#the girl you said that was unable to love and be loved?
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nanaslutt · 10 hours ago
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roommates!gojo & geto jerking each other off while thinking abt their cute neighbor they both want soooo bad
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔
“do it harder.” geto groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he laid back against satoru’s pillows. said man currently had his hand wrapped around his cock, albeit poorly. his hand was soft as fuck, but he was touching him like he had never touched a dick before. “jerk me off how you jerk yourself off.”
gojo snorted, his words breathy as he spoke, “what if i like it soft?” geto shook his head and curled his toes when gojo wrapped his hand around him tighter. “these walls are thin, i’ve heard you having sex and i know you don’t like it soft. those poor girls.”
gojo laughed, “they love it, i think she would love it too.” he said. geto licked his lips, starting to paint an image in his head. “what would you do to her?” he asked tentatively, his eyebrows furrowing together when gojo focused on his cock head like the bastard he was.
“mmm i think id start with fingering her.” gojo said. “i’ve seen her a couple times in the laundry room bend over in those tiny shorts—you know the ones. and her-“ he stopped talking to groan when geto stroked over a particularly sensitive vein. “they don’t cover much.”
geto nodded, seeing you bent over in his head. “you think she’s sensitive?” geto asked, cracking his eyes open to peek at gojo. his eyes were lidded and focused on the hand around his cock. geto tried not to shy away when he felt his pre cum drip into his hand. he’d never jerked anyone off before—besides himself.
“oh yeah,” gojo responded, biting his plush lip. for some reason it made geto’s mouth water. “i think… fuck, i think i could make her squirt with just my fingers.” gojo’s face was getting flushed now. it made geto want to tease him. “yeah?” he asked, squeezing his hand tighter around his shaft and relishing in his reaction when he sucked in a breath through his teeth and arched his back. “would you make her squirt all over our couch?”
gojo moaned at his filthy words and nodded, his head tipping back against the headboard. “yeah.” geto nodded, looking at his roommate even though his eyes were closed. “what would you do if i walked in when you were making her cum?” he asked, paying attention to the head of his cock.
“i-id let you suck my fingers clean.” he groaned, making geto’s balls throb at the visual. “god, she’d probably get so hot… trying to press her thighs together watching me suck your fingers.” gojo nodded, his mouth falling open in a small O.
“would you want her pussy or her ass?” geto asked, his breath coming more quickly. “ass, i know it’s so tight and warm. god. would you want her at the same time?” geto nodded despite him being unable to see. “yeah, just think about how good she would look with tears down her face trying to take us both.”
suddenly, a hand way being wrapped around his wrist. geto opened his eyes fully and watched with rapt attention as gojo cursed before his back arched. he continued stroking him, despite knowing what was gonna happen. he cringed when hot ropes of cum spilled from his dick, coating his hand and his cock and making a lewd sound from the stroking.
gojo gripped geto’s wrist to stop him, and geto pulled it away and made a face at the mess on his hand. gojo also had stopped jerking him off, just weakly holding his throbbing cock. “that did it for you huh?” he teased. gojo laughed before removing his hand from geto’s cock.
gojo crawled off the edge of the bed and bent down to grab a towel to wipe his cock clean with. geto gripped his cock and languidly started stroking, waiting for gojo to help him get off. “your turn, one minute man. come keep this fantasy going so i can blow all over your hand and pretend it’s hers.”
a cruel smile twisted on gojo’s face before he dropped the towel and zipped his pants back up. “i’m sure you can finish yourself off.” getos mouth opened in disbelief. “if you need some help, i have porn from last night still up on my laptop, feel free to check it out. it’s really good stuff.” with a wink, he left geto gaping and alone in HIS room with his stiff cock in his hand.
fucking biiiitch.
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forwomenbiwomen · 14 hours ago
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I learned of a Tiktok 'trend' recently of men taking their female family members, friends, partners etc out on a lovely nature walk, then starting to record and saying "I bet nobody would be able to hear you scream here."
There is not ONE video that the woman laughs in, even when they explain the prank. Not one. For a sex who have been socialised to nervously laugh when uncomfortable, not one of them found it funny. It was mothers who stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes filled with fear. It was girlfriends who started running away in fear, to the laughing taunts of "it was just a joke come back!!!!!". It was sisters who stared these men down, unable to process what this male had said to them.
First of all, the timing is sociopathic. It's not an accident. With Nick "we control your bodies b*tch" Fuentes doing a monologue that undeniably sunk into the psyches of most men, AND the general political landscape for women atm, they feel joy and pleasure at unabashedly making their female friends and family suffer. They giggle at the prospect of making them fear for their life, and they film it for other men to get off on.
Moids continually stun me. After hundreds of thousands of years of oppression you'd think I would understand and expect it, but they reach new heights every time I blink. Deep down, I'm just a hopeful girl who sees men as humans. I try not to assume they're beyond saving, but they're making it harder to believe. They just seem wired for pain and suffering and destruction.
My heart bleeds for the women and girls in places where they have full reign. These demons won't stop until they have raped and destroyed the planet in pursuit of more intense porn to feel a sliver of the emotion women possess.
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monstersflashlight · 1 day ago
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Patreon Commission for anon
Request: I’d like to do a werewolf male. Typical bulk big dicked guy. I want him to have a chubby human female as his mate. She is nervous to have sex because he is so massive, so he “warms her up” with fingers turned fisting. I would like it to be soft and gentle, a dom slowly stretching his sub and praising them along the way type deal. Obviously it’s going to be painful for her but praise and loving touches help
A/N: Hope you enjoy this story, it was very fun to write. :)
Sex induced coma
Werewolf x fem!reader || size kink, fisting, praise kink, dom/sub (light), edging, dirty talk
When you started dating your werewolf boyfriend, you knew intimacy was going to be hard between you two. But as a surprise to both of you, it wasn’t.
Well, mostly.
He loved to eat you out, to the point of having you coming and coming and coming for hours to an end, your body tired from orgasms, but unable to resist his clever tongue and hot grunts as you gushed around his mouth.
In the same way, you loved going down on him, even though the first time you saw his dick you were literally speechless, staring into a huge cock that could barely fit between your hands. He was massive… and you were a big size queen, who could blame you?
He refused to fuck you, he said it was dangerous, he would never fit, you were too small to fit…, and you understood his reasoning… but you didn’t share his opinion. So you persevered, you asked and begged to be fucked any chance you got. You asked with his fingers inside of you, you asked with his clever tongue against your pearl, and you asked with your little human tongue against his huge cock...
And he denied you over and over, but you knew he was starting to reconsider. You asked over and over again, and you knew he was starting to give in when he smiled at you when you asked. When he teased your pussy for hours, trying to fit another finger inside as you came messily around them.
And then he gave in and indulged in your shared pleasure. He laid you on the bed and got to it, smiling like a wolf as he watched you tremble under his hungry eyes. “Are you ready for this?” He asked.
You struggled to get the words out as his fingers made the first contact with your shivering cunt. “Ngh- yes.” You pushed your hips against his hand and he frowned, but his lips twitched, trying to hide a smile.
“None of that, little minx. You take them as I please, you are not in control here, are you?” His voice was amused and you could see the edge of his mouth twitching, trying not to smile. “Answer,” he pressed his thumb against your clit intently.
You looked at him, your eyes unfocused because of the pleasure. “N-no. You are.”
“I am what?” He asked again.
“In control. You are in control.” You assured him, your body shivering at his commanding tone. You didn’t know you liked him being in control as much as you did, it was intoxicating in the best way possible.
“Good girl.” His praise made your pussy twitch around his fingers and he chuckled.
He started a slow finger fucking, way too slow for your desperate cunt. You needed more, you wanted more. But he already told you, you had no control over what happened, over what he did or what pace he took. And the fact that you were at his mercy only drove you further into your pleasure.
You moaned and groaned, asking for more. Pleading for more. Little by little he stretched you, stopping every time you felt like you were about to cum, kissing trails across your stomach as he distracted you from your pleasure. Just to start all over again.
He kept teasing your G-spot with his wide fingers until you were sweating and your legs were trembling like crazy. Your pleasure was so high you couldn’t stop chanting, a chorus of ah ah ah leaving your mouth at every movement of his two fingers inside of you. His fingers were wide and long, you felt so full... almost to the point of pain.
And he didn’t stop talking, “you are going to feel like a dream around my cock, aren’t you?” You moaned in response, unable to form words with three fingers inside of you.
In and out, in and out. Driving you to the edge and stopping. Building up to an orgasm and leaving you dry as your pussy quivered around his fingers and your pussy leaked around his hand. You were drenched by the time he pushed another finger inside. The fourth was a big stretch, your pain and pleasure mixing. He scissored them inside, opening you up, caressing parts of you didn’t know existed.
“You are so tight, good goddess… A bit more darling, I know it’s a bit painful but you can take it. Come on, one more.” And then you felt his fifth finger slipping inside. The stretch was so awesome you felt a gush of juices dripping around his fingers, probably soaking his whole wrist. You couldn’t even be embarrassed, it was so hot you could only moan in ecstasy as he grunted and asked you to breathe.
When he pushed in his knuckles, and then his whole fist, you screamed his name so loud you were almost sure your whole neighborhood heard you. You felt stretched to the extreme, and his grunts were only making it better. “Such a good girl, taking my fist so well, you are so tight around me, such a pretty pussy taking me so well…” His words were borderline non-sense, but you couldn’t even understand him properly, your pleasure too high, too intense.
And when you were about to reach an orgasm…
He took out his hand, and you screamed. Your hands flying to his wrist to ask him for more. But then you felt the tip of his cock against your stretched hole. After all his teasing, you could barely be coherent when you asked: “Are you… are you gonna?”
He smiled at you sweetly, your whole body trembling in anticipation and pent up frustration. “Yes, darling. Are you ready?”
“Please,” was the only word you could get out.
He pushed inside of you slowly, his dick breaching your stretched pussy. You were glad you took his fist, because it was already a stretch to fit his length inside of you. “You are doing so well, such a good girl for me. You are taking me so well.” His words of encouragement made you preen, sweaty and on edge of the greatest orgasm of your life as he kept going further and further.
The moment he bottomed out, both of you screamed in ecstasy, the feeling like nothing else you’d ever felt. His face contorted with pleasure, pleasure you were giving him as you tightened around his length. He felt incredibly big, and you still felt so tight around him that you felt the veins of his shaft pulsating against your inner walls. It was exhilarating and your brain was rapidly losing focus as he started a slow pace.
“I’m not- I’m not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunted between short hard thrusts.
“I- I’m…”
You didn’t even finish that thought before you were screaming his name loud enough to wake up every single bird in the surrounded area, probably your neighbors across town, too. But you didn’t care. The orgasm washed over you like the sun hitting snow. It was mind-blowing and full body pleasure that drove you into the next dimension, one where pain and pleasure were the same and you couldn’t get enough of either.
You came down to your body as he kept thrusting, his non-sense a mix of “how good”, “how pretty”, “so tight and wet”… He was completely gone on his own pleasure, driving you further and further into the race for a second orgasm. His soaked hand found your clit, and his thumb caressed your pearl until your eyes rolled back into your head.
The first shot of come inside of you drove you over the edge, his howling matching your screams. Your orgasm hit you like a brick, leaving you breathless as the world faded and your pussy filled with his seed. There was so much of it, it overflowed your pussy, gushing around his length still buried deep inside of you. It was the best feeling in the universe and your brain could barely process all the pleasure rushing through your body at the same time.
He was kissing your forehead when your neurons got connection back. “Totally doing it again,” you whispered before you fell asleep into a sex-coma with his chuckles as a background sound.
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inthedarkshadows000 · 9 hours ago
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Thoughts at 3 am:
Dating suguru meant tolerating Satoru as his very whiny, half boyfriend.
Who, he had been unable to keep away after a few dates
"Suguru come on!!! I need to make sure she is good enough for us."
"Us? And no. You just want her to knows that she can't come between us, even though there is no us romantically. That's how you scared away the rest."
Who had actually told you exactly what Suguru said he would but instead of being weirded out, to his utter amazement, had just laughed and said "Don't worry, I'll just be the less pretty, side chic then, deal?"
Who had your name saved in his phone as Boyfriend Stealer. Yet dumped any of his flings/girls if they used it against you, even if it was kind of his fault for the misunderstanding.
Who would randomly put up infinity around Suguru right before you were about to jump him, because he is petty like that.
"Yes toru, I got you your favourite sweets. So if you could, please lemme hug our shared boyfriend after staying away from him for two, entire days. The two days that you spent with him on a mission. All alone."
"Oh! Why would you not begin with that, silly? Gimmme it."
Who would constantly rile you up only to expand his eyes dramatically and say, "Suguru!!!! Look at her!!! She is being to me!!! Will you really let her talk to your pretty partner like that!" All the while clinging onto his arm like a little damsel in distress.
"Satoru if you didn't want her to be mean to you then maybe you shouldn't have been pulling her hair like a kindergartener."
"You've changed Sugu, she has finally created a wedge between us!!!! I knew this would happen!!!! Why god why?! Why didn't you just make me ugly, if you really wanted to punish me? Why make me go through this?!"
Who would wiggle himself between the two of you during a walk, forcing you to stop leaning on his shoulder. Instead, you would wrap an arm around satoru's waist to reach over to your boyfriend's arm.
Who would whine for days after Suguru proposed to you, till you both got him a promise ring, to make sure he knew that he wouldn't be left alone, not to mention days of massive pampering because we were a few days late and it caused him emotional stress.
However, dating suguru also meant tolerating having satoru as your very sweet, half boyfriend.
Who kisses you on your forehead just as sweetly as Suguru does, on you you lips, before leaving for their mission.
"Well if you are Suguru's lucky charm, there's no way you aren't mine too." Was his logic.
Who puts up infinity around you when a guy starts becoming too chummy, while the two of you wait in a line for your orders and Suguru takes care of the table.
Who stood up to the elders when they bullied you for distracting the strongest because you simply existed.
Who would step in to take over any social situation because you needed a breather and Suguru to feel less overwhelmed but were too polite to leave.
Who would take turns with Suguru too nurse you back to health because both of them had missions and Suguru didn't want you alone.
Who had suddenly started relying on you to take care of him just as he had on Suguru, for so many years.
"Y/n..."
"Y/nnnnnnnnn......"
"Yes I do have your extra hair ties ru and no your shades aren't lost toru, you left them with megumi. You can use the extra pair I keep here for you."
So, although it was Suguru that you were in a relationship with, you realized that Satoru was a package deal. Not that you minded, afterall looking at them bickering like an old couple, it was obvious that there would be no Suguru to love without Satoru and no Satoru without Suguru.
You can't have YIN without it's YANG, can you?
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inmyheaddd · 3 days ago
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✦ nobody gets me, you do - averyjameson
a/n: wooo games untold release day!!! the first part of this is so silly help i love max summary: avery has the worst interview in the world, with constant interruptions and snide comments. jameson is watching it from home, (along with his brothers, max, and lyra) and finds himself going to see avery, despite her team telling him no. wc: 2.4k
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max was watching her best friends interview live on her phone, sitting in her boyfriends bed.
she could read her like an open book, and could tell something was definitely wrong. 
“xander,” she called out the boy next to her who was solving a 9x9 rubix cube leisurely, laying on his back with his hands up in the air. “are you seeing this? look what they’re doing to my girl avery.”
xander sat up, and watched for a few seconds. to xander, she looked how she did the first time he ever saw her: scared, uncomfortable, but trying to put on a brave face.
after just two seconds, he called out at the top of his lungs: “jamesoooonnnn.”
no response. 
max pulled xander out of the room — much to his dismay, and finally spotted jameson in one of the libraries.
she barely got a word in before jamesons eyes flickered to her phone that was still playing the interview. his brows furrowed, “you’re watching the interview too?”
“…of course i am,” she deadpanned, “i’m literally avery’s girlfriend.
xander raised a brow from beside max, and jameson and him shared a confused look. “oh… right.” jameson said as he nodded slowly. 
“yeah…!” xander added. “how could i forget?...” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes flickered between jameson and max.
“you guys are weird…” max trailed off, confused at their strange reactions, when she said something so completely normal in her opinion. 
 “but look!” she exclaimed, “she literally looks so… uncomfortable. in their right mind allowed this interviewer to have a job?” she said, as the two brothers looked at the tiny screen on her phone showing avery’s interview live. 
they quickly ditched watching it on the phone, because jameson suggested they watch it on the large tv in one of their living rooms.  
max rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, “of course you’d suggest that.” but nodded anyway as the three made their way to the nearest living room. 
avery shifted in her seat slightly, her smile just a little off and strained as the interviewer asked another prying question.
“so, how does it feel to have your entire life handed to you on a silver platter- or shall i say, gold?” the audience laughed at the last line. his tone was light, but the implications were hard to miss.
avery smiled, like landon had rehearsed with her, trying to maintain her composure. 
“who the hell is this guy?” jameson scoffed, “seriously?” he stood up from the couch they were sitting on and ran a hand through his hair. 
“i wouldn’t exactly describe it that way,” she responded far too fast, so she went to correct herself— otherwise she wouldn’t her the end of it from her team. “but i’m endlessly grateful for all the opportunities i have, and for all the experiences.” she said with a smile that looked a little too sweet and practiced, that it made jameson sick.
the interviewer leaned forward, a cruel smirk on his face that made avery want to grimace. “oh?” he challenged, “so you’re saying the billion-dollar inheritance didn’t change your life overnight?”
xanders usual playful grin was gone as he muttered, “avery looks like she’s about to walk out.”
“she should.” jameson was now pacing in front of the TV, unable to stand still any longer. “if i’d been there—”
“but you’re not,” grayson said calmly, standing beside another couch that lyra was sitting on. “she’ll handle it.”
lyra had heard everyone in the room a few minutes earlier, and suggested her and grayson go see what was going on. 
jameson’s eyes focused laser sharp on the tv once again as he heard the interviewer mention his name, before turning back to look at grayson.
“she shouldn’t have to handle it, grayson.” his voice cracked with frustration.
her heart raced, but she managed a small laugh. “i think anyone’s life would change with something like that. my life has changed a great ordeal, but it’s more complicated than—”
“and what about your relationship with jameson hawthorne?” he interrupted, not caring for a single word she had to say. “was that part of the package deal?”
the live audience laughed, and avery just smiled politely, frustration flashing behind her eyes that only the people closest to her could spot.
grayson was going to say something to calm his brother down, but didn’t get the chance to. 
“oh, this guy is a fucking comedian, isn’t he?” jameson ran another frustrated hand through his hair, chuckling lowly as he exhaled. “i’m getting him fired— bankrupt for gods sake.” 
he knew how snobby-privileged-rich-kid he sounded even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. 
“yeah,” lyra chimed in, who rarely ever agreed with jameson.  “i’m with you on that one.”
jameson shook his head, letting out a blow of air that it almost sounded like a whistle, “goddamnit, i don’t care, i’m going. her team and the paparazzi can go to hell for all i care.” 
he turned off the tv, he couldn’t bear to see avery uncomfortable for another second.
nash stood leaning against the wall, sending a slight nod to jameson. “you need a ride?” he asked, alluding to the motorcycle jameson loves to use when he needs to blow off steam. 
with no complaints from nash, jameson knew that he was doing the right thing. 
he muttered something under his breath along the lines of: “too dangerous,” and shook his head. and with that, he made his way to the stairs. 
everyone shared confused glances — jameson hawthorne, saying something was too dangerous? something has seriously changed. 
“is it just me… or is jameson being weirdly responsible right now.” xander muttered as he looked at the turned off tv infront of him. 
grayson and lyra shared a look that communicated the message; ‘…he’s still not responsible.’ but didn’t say anything.
max nodded at xander in agreement. “it’s the avery effect.” she stated matter-of-factly. “i don’t know about you, but whenever i’m around her i feel like… woah, i just want to be a better person, you know?” 
xander thought about it for a moment with his hand on his chin, and then nodded ,like max had said something profound. 
he looked up at her, and then they both nodded in sync, sharing a high five. 
nash, who was still standing leaned against the wall, stifled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before walking out of the living room. 
he was definitely going to be mentioning the “avery effect” to libby later.
— 
avery sighed as she finally got in the dressing room, leaning her head back on the door and shutting her eyes. 
she got to go home in half an hour now, finally. 
atleast she was done with that interview. 
she walked away from the door, slumping in her chair as she brought her hands to her face, looking into the large hollywood style mirror infront of her. 
she was hyper-aware of everything around her—the feeling of her clothes scratching against her skin, the way her makeup suddenly felt heavy on her face, the ache in her cheeks from smiling, and the slight tremor in her hands. 
avery re-enacted the smiles she gave throughout the interview, wondering if they looked too fake, if she needs to start tweaking them, and overthinking just about every small detail.
5 minutes had passed, and she was still staring into the mirror. 
surely this wasn’t healthy, but she stayed practicing the answers she gave, sighing in defeat when she remembered how people would take it as snappy and defensive.
god, she wouldn’t have wished that interview from hell on her worst enemy. 
her reflection started to look weird to herself, but she kept practicing the right way to smile, to not look fake.
suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and her attention was diverted from the mirror for the first time in 10 minutes. 
“yeah, come in!” she called out quietly, eyes fixated on the door, nervous to see who it was.
hair and makeup? someone from her team already there to scold her? or god forbid, the interviewer— her thoughts were all silenced when she saw pair of familiar green eyes.
“jameson,” she breathed out, “what are you doing here?” 
his hair was a tad messier than usual, and his eyes seemed panicked as he looked around the room, until they finally met hers. 
he shut the door behind him and locked it all in one swift movement and walked over to her, standing behind her chair she was sitting on. 
his hands found her shoulders, but she stood up and turned around, meeting him face to face.
“heiress,” he put his calmest voice on as his hands found their way to the sides of her face. “i was watching— we were watching the interview at home.” his eyes flickered between hers, “are you alright?”
she smiled a little, letting out an exhale. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” she shook her head in an attempt to portray she was confused. 
it was slightly difficult for her to act like she was perfectly fine, when she had spent the last 20 minutes doing nothing but overthink. 
he brought her out of her thoughts once again. “avery.”
“what?”
“i saw the look on your face— you may be a good bluffer, but not with your emotions. not with me, atleast.” 
unfortunately for avery, jameson could see what she was feeling when she tried her hardest to hide it, even from her own self. 
she sighed, trying to shrug it off. “jameson, it’s just one interview. they ask questions like that all the time—it’s part of the job.”
“i don’t care if it’s part of the job. you never asked for this.” his voice was hard-edged, his hands moving down her shoulders, then down to her hands. “you looked uncomfortable, avery. you shouldn’t have to be fine with that.”
“i was managing it,” she countered, tilting her head up to look at him, trying to ease the tension. “that’s what i’m supposed to do.”
her hands fiddled with his fingers with a mind of their own. it was a tell tale sign she was holding her feelings back. jameson knew it better than anyone.
“and that’s the problem.” he didn’t speak to her condescendingly, or in any way that was trying to belittle her. he was just worried. 
he simply cared, and it made avery’s heart soar. 
“they’re counting on you to just handle it every single time, like it doesn’t get to you.” his voice was low, “you shouldn’t act okay with it just because it’s easier. it’s not right.”
she wanted to prove that she was okay, that she wasn’t bothered, and that he didn’t have to worry about her, but she couldn’t, because then she’d be lying.
she let out a small sigh of defeat, “you’re right, jameson.” she shook her head, “i know… i just— i don’t want you to worry about me, or anyone to worry about me.”
“tough luck.” he replied, voice low but unwavering as his eyes searched hers. 
she opened her mouth to argue, but his hand gently brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, and the words seemed to fade.  
“its the worst thing in the world, seeing the hurt on your face. i hate it.” avery looked down, but he tilted her chin back up. “and,” he murmured, “i hate the people inferior who project their own problems onto you, because they feel like they can, even more.” 
avery couldn’t argue with the rest of what he said, but she needed to say something. 
“no one’s inferior to me.” she mumbled 
“please,” jameson said with a deep chuckle, “i could name quite a few.” he said. “for starters, that interviewer—“
avery cut jameson off with a light laugh, a sound that made jameson feel like the sun was shining down just for them two. 
his eyes flickered all around her face, his own smile growing as he committed the picture to memory. “he was the worst. am i wrong? tell me i’m wrong.” he teased, selfishly wanting more laughter out of avery because he loved it so much.
she shook her head vigorously, “no,” she laughed, “god, no. he was the worst. i hate that idiot.” 
jameson let out another one of his bigger chuckles, “keep going,” he joked, “there’s my heiress.” 
avery rolled her eyes jokingly, feeling the last of her worry fade away. “i wanted to punch him square in the face,” she said, and jameson rose his brows in amusement and nodded enthusiastically.
she continued, “but that doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re here now, and that’s more important.” 
he let out a breath, his shoulders loosing the last of their tension. “is that so?” he murmured, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her a bit closer.
“yeah, it is.” and before he could protest or mention anything about her emotions any longer, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 
he melted into her, arms wrapping around her fully, and tighter. she felt like she could stay in his arms for all eternity as she put her arms around his neck. 
the kiss was brief, reassuring, but enough to melt away the last traces of his worry.
when she pulled back, jameson was looking at her with softness in his eyes— one rarely seen by others, but always seen by her. 
his thumb brushed over her cheek, and his eyes travelled her face all over. he looked deep in thought, and avery could sense a question was stirring. 
“heiress?”
she hummed, “yes, jamie?”
“you know, i never mean to be,” he hesitated slightly, “overbearing, or controlling, i just…” he paused, pressing his lips together in a line as he racked his brain for the right words. 
“yeah, i know, jamie.” she nodded slightly with her hand brushing the sides of his face, understanding what he couldn’t verbalize.
his hand held her hand that was on his face, and moved it back down. 
both their hands were locked together now, and jameson rested his forehead on hers gently.
avery was so sure he would lean in for another kiss, perhaps one less tentative, now that she could see the tension had dissolved from his shoulders. 
she let herself relax, realizing that she stopped fidgeting with jameson’s hands a while ago. 
he brought her so much peace without even trying. she wondered if she ever did the same for him— and then jameson broke the silence. 
“i’m still getting him fired, by the way.”
avery laughed quietly, almost scoffing in amusement. she bit back her smile as she shook her head, taking a slight step back, hands still intertwined. “of course you are.”
“for you, heiress?” his cheshire grin slowly returned, reeling her back in close. he shrugged, “i’d do much worse.”
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nadvs · 14 hours ago
Text
hard to ignore (two-shot) (part two)
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.
content warning parental abandonment
» part one
» masterlist
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Zach gets you and his daughter box seats for his next home game.
It happens to be on your first day back at work after his family leaves and he jokes that sooner is better than later, not only because his team might get knocked out of the playoffs, but also because Ella could change her mind about wanting to come.
The private space overlooking the stadium is small, only a handful of other people there, as the late afternoon sun shines over the rich green field.
You learned that Zach is a major league soccer player minutes into meeting him. You knew he had an unusual life and a certain level of notoriety as a professional athlete. But seeing the crowds filling the seats below you makes it real to you.
The music and the announcer’s voice boom through the stadium, fireworks going off as players rush the field. All this craziness doesn’t match the man you know. Zach is kind and humble and beneath his silly sense of humor, he has a gentleness to him that you’d never expect from someone whose last name is sprawled over fans’ jerseys, who’s getting cheered for so loudly that it’s deafening.
Ella excitedly claps when her father appears on the stadium screen, his face hard as he jogs under the bright lights. You gaze ahead in awe, unable to believe that this is the world he lives in when he’s not at the house, running around with his daughter, thanking you for everything you do.
After the game ends in a draw, you take Ella home in time for dinner. As you drive, wipers cleaning away the drizzle that just started to fall, she excitedly rambles about the experience from the backseat. You smile to yourself, glad that she enjoyed herself and proud that you’re the reason she went.
As usual, Ella slips out of her chair with a mouthful of food when she hears the front door open halfway into dinner. You watch her dart out of the dining room, listening to the huff Zach lets out every time his daughter roughly launches herself into his arms.
“That was so cool!” you overhear.
“Really?” he says. “You didn’t get bored?”
“Um, it was kind of too long,” she says, “but I had pictures to color.”
“Appreciate your honesty,” Zach replies with a laugh.
They round the corner to enter the dining room and when Zach’s eyes land on you, your heart does a somersault.
“Hey,” he says to you, nervous.
“Hi,” you reply. “Thanks for the fancy seats.”
“They were alright?”
“Good enough for two princesses,” you tease.
“Princess ballerinas,” Ella corrects you as she sits down again.
“Right,” you say. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that we’re princess ballerinas now.”
Zach mirrors your smile, loving the feeling of sharing a moment like this with you. You stand to clean your plate and it reminds him of what his mother said a couple of nights ago. That you look at him the same way he looks at you.
He hopes that it’s true, because he can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s a little embarrassed that you saw him in a match. He’s always loved soccer, but he never liked how much attention is on him as a major league player.
“Maybe you should wait out the rain,” Zach says to you. “It started coming down hard on my drive home.”
“Good idea,” you say, happy to spend more time with him.
The rest of dinner consists of Ella happily chattering with you and Zach. As she clears her plate, Zach’s phone buzzes on the table top. His lips purse in worry at the notification, and then he shows you the severe thunderstorm warning message on his screen.
“That looks bad,” you say. “How long is it supposed to go on for?”
“It says into the early morning,” Zach answers. “Do you want to crash here?”
“I’m sure I could make it home,” you say. “I’ll just drive slowly.”
Zach’s lips part, and then he closes his mouth, simply nodding.
“What?” you chuckle. His eyes dart away.
“Just worried about you,” he admits. You huff an endeared laugh.
“Fine. I’ll sleep here,” you decide.
He sighs a breath of relief and says, “Thanks.”
Zach takes Ella to bed and you settle on the couch, glad you already have everything you’ll need in your overnight bag in the guest room. You eventually hear his footsteps coming down the stairs over the sounds of the television and the rain hammering down on the roof.
He sits on the other end of the couch next to you, so far that a person could easily sit between you. It’s typical Zach, never getting too close to you. The only time he’s ever touched you is when he shook your hand before your interview half a year ago.
“She fell asleep while I was explaining what offside means,” he says with an adorably puzzled expression. “Trying not to be offended.”
“I can’t believe she’s actually interested in soccer,” you say.
“Ouch.” Zach puts his hand over his heart. “Okay, I’m offended now.”
“I mean because you said she never cared before,” you laugh.
“I asked her so many times if she’d want to come to a game,” he huffs. “But you suggest it once and she’s immediately in. She always listens to you.”
“Not when I’m trying to convince her to leave the park,” you say. He chuckles. “Can you believe she’s starting kindergarten soon?”
Admittedly, Zach’s concerned about it. In less than a month, Ella will be going to school and he never was one to have much anxiety before he became a father, but all he does now is worry. He doesn’t want any teachers or kids to be harsh with his little girl. She’s already been through enough.
“She’ll be okay,” you say.
“What?”
“You have that worried look on your face,” you tell him. “She’ll love school. I’m sure of it.”
“You can read me pretty well,” he says, smiling. You shrug timidly, thinking back to how quickly he’d noticed something was bothering you on the night of Ella’s birthday.
“What?” he asks.
“It goes both ways,” you admit. “You saw right through me after the party.”
Zach’s jaw tightens, the playfulness between you replaced by a fragile air. He takes a breath before speaking. He knows he needs to have this conversation with you.
“Do you feel better about what she said?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply. Now that you’ve had some time to process, you’re okay. “How about you?”
“Well,” he begins, nerves tightening in his stomach, “it wasn’t easy to hear. Ella shouldn’t have to wish she had a different mom. Jade should be here for her.”
He’s never said her name. He’s never looked like this before, his eyes avoiding yours, hand trembling a bit as he scratches his jaw. You can tell this is hard for him to talk about. But he’s choosing to do it with you.
“You said ex-wife that night, but she was never my wife,” Zach admits.
“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I know I haven’t told you much. When we talked that night, it reminded me of just how much you don’t know about it. I just… I hope you know that you’re… you’re so much more than Ella’s nanny. You’re our friend. And you’re obviously a mother figure to her. And it feels weird that you don’t know what happened.”
His words sink into you, every syllable having an effect on your heartbeat.
“What happened?”
“Ella was a surprise,” he tells you. “Jade and I were dating in our senior year of college when we found out she was pregnant. And then I got drafted into the league and we graduated and everything was happening so fast, but we were happy and… I stayed happy and she didn’t.”
You nibble on your bottom lip, looking at him as his eyes stay trained off of yours.
“We broke up a few months after Ella was born. But we were both sure we could handle co-parenting. She stayed at home while I worked. I could see she didn’t like it, though. She wasn’t a bad mother or anything. She just wasn’t very… affectionate with Ella.”
Your chest tightens. It’s painful to imagine Ella wanting love and not getting it.
“I don’t know. I thought she’d eventually feel how I feel about being a parent. I tried everything,” Zach says, remembering how he’d encouraged Jade to go to therapy or take time away or work while they hired help. It was like she was stuck in her unhappiness. “But then she left and… that was it.”
He finally looks at you and the tenderness in your eyes gives him a breath of fresh air. It’s what you do. Just by being you, you give him the push to stay hopeful that he and his daughter will be okay.
“We weren’t in a good place when you came. But you made things so much better,” he says. “You do an amazing job taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”
Your eyes light up, the smile on your face gentle.
“Thank you for saying that,” you say. “And thank you for telling me the full story. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Zach sighs now that the weight of reliving it is gone.
“I really do love her. I meant it when I said it.” At this point, you’re sure you love him, too, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. “And I feel lucky to get to watch her grow up. This doesn’t even feel like a job to me anymore.”
“So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t want the pay?” he says. You find relief in his joke, tossing your head back with a laugh. “Seriously, though, let me know if you need me to keep things the same while you’re part-time during the school year. I don’t mind.”
“Wait, are you offering to pay me for hours I’m not even working?” you chuckle. “Zach, no. I’m good. I have other things lined up. But thank you.”
“What? Everyone knows you should always accept free money.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say. “How do you even have the energy to joke around right now? I just watched you run around for ninety minutes.”
Like always, Zach blushes when you bring up his job. He’s intense and focused on the pitch, but he’s different when he’s at ease at home.
“There’s a break in the middle,” he replies.
“I stand corrected,” you say. “So, how’d you get into soccer?”
Your conversation quickly and easily drifts into topics you hadn’t explored before, the storm raging outside as you learn more about him and he learns more about you. He’s still on the other end of the couch, but soon, his arm is resting against the back of it, his hand inches away from you as you sink into the soft cushions, beaming at each other as you talk.
You don’t want to stop, but eventually you can’t stifle your yawn, prompting Zach to check his watch.
“Jeez,” he says. “Ella went down three hours ago.”
“Are you serious?” You sit up. “That flew by.”
Zach knew that the more he learned about you, the more of a goner he’d be. It feels like he just went on the best date of his life and all he did was sit on his couch and talk.
There’s something between you and he hopes that it’s not just his infatuation misguiding him.
────୨ৎ────
You were right. He had nothing to worry about. Ella’s more than happy at school. It’s only a week into the year and she’s already naming all her new friends when Zach picks her up Friday afternoon.
Her first dance recital is tonight and he’s looking forward to seeing you and his family there. Ella had even mentioned that her other grandparents could come. They were elated to get the invitation.
And of course, when he arrives at the studio that evening, you’re already there, reliable and steady like you always are. You greet him and his family warmly and introduce yourself to Jade’s parents.
It feels wrong to hear you refer to yourself as Ella’s nanny. You’ve been in his life for eight months now and you’ve nestled your way into his soul so deeply that he knows you’ll stay with him forever.
He’s been grappling with this since he first realized he had feelings for you; this bothersome sense of wrong. He can’t pursue you. Technically, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like it, he is your boss. He pays you to take care of his child. If things went sideways, it could push you to leave.
Although he’s never felt this much love for a woman in his life, it’d be selfish. He can’t do it to Ella. He didn’t even want to date other women when Jade was still around simply because it could confuse his daughter.
But you’re different.
His thoughts are interrupted when you look at him, pulling him out of his haze.
“I saved us seats,” you tell him.
Zach’s sitting between you and his father when the recital starts. Eventually, Ella drifts across the middle of the floor between the other dancers.
“This is the part she’s nervous about,” you whisper to him, recalling how she’d told you that this part in the choreography makes her trip sometimes.
You watch her hop sideways, focused as the music grows faster. You’re so on edge that you don’t realize your hand slips into Zach’s, squeezing nervously. She lands her last skip and rejoins the group. You let out a sigh of relief. Then, you look down, seeing your fingers wrapped around Zach’s.
“Sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off as you pull your hand back. “I think I’m taking a five-year-old’s dance recital a little too seriously.”
Zach can only offer a tight smile. His team’s inching closer to advancing to the championship semi-finals and the pressure has never been heavier, but even that hasn’t affected him like the tension he’s feeling right now. His whole body is on fire from your touch, and it won’t go away.
When the recital comes to an end, Zach leans closer to you to murmur over the applause surrounding you.
“You going out to dinner with us?” he asks.
“Do I have to?” you quip.
“What, you got a date or something?” He worries that the joke was too much. Too flirty.
But you laugh and say, “I haven’t had a date or something in forever. Yeah, I’ll come.” Although it’s hard to believe that a woman like you is single, he’s glad you are.
The eight of you sit in the busy restaurant, making conversation. As Zach expected, Ella insisted she sit next to you. You have endless patience for her, listening to her talk, answering her questions, letting her pick off your plate. He would move mountains for his child. He can tell you’d do the same.
Zach picks up the bill and you all say your goodbyes to Jade’s parents, who insisted they didn’t need to stay the night. Before you head out, you tell his family it was nice to see them again. He can tell you’re a little surprised when his mother pulls you in for a hug, but you kindly return it.
Connie obviously appreciates everything you’ve done for her son and granddaughter. Zach tries not to daydream too much, but he likes imagining being your boyfriend and telling you that his mom called that you’d become something one day.
When you say bye to Zach, your gazes meet like you’ve been waiting for a private moment for ages. Things changed on the night you stayed over. You went from friends to a gray area of something more, neither of you acting on it but knowing it’s there.
Only an hour after Ella falls asleep, Zach’s parents and sister turn in for the night, tired from their drive in. Zach is too wired, silently sitting in his living room, his tea not having its usual effect of soothing him.
He goes through his camera roll, wishing he could go for a drive to relax, but not wanting to leave his daughter in case she needs him. He stares at a photo his mother took of you and him and Ella earlier tonight after the recital, Ella’s hair frizzy from all the jumping around she did.
His smile is wide and so is yours and you look like more than just someone he hired to help take care of his daughter. You look like a family.
He opens your conversation and sends you the photo. It’s nearing 10 p.m. and he’s not sure if you’re already asleep, but you respond a minute later: Aw I love this. Thanks :) How’s your night going?
Zach responds: Good… but everyone’s asleep and I’m still wide awake. Yours?
You reply: Is your tea not working?
He smiles to himself and texts back: Not this time.
You text: I’m kind of wired, too.
How come?
Not sure.
He replies with a joke: Could be Ella’s fault. I saw her eat a lot of your dinner. It’s probably hunger keeping you awake.
Once again, his mind drifts to the way your palm felt against the back of his hand tonight. Then, he hears a door open upstairs. In case it’s Ella, he quietly rushes up the stairs to run into his mom, who’s leaving the bathroom.
“Sorry,” he whispers when he startles her. “I thought Ella woke up and I didn’t want her to think I was gone.”
“I’m sure she’ll be deep asleep until the morning,” Connie says. She notices he’s still in the clothes he wore to the recital. “Can’t sleep?”
“No,” he chuckles. “I’d go for a drive, but I–”
“If she wakes up, I’m here and if she needs you, I’ll call. Go. You need to take care of yourself, too.”
“I’m fine.”
“Go for a drive,” his mother insists. “She’s okay. I promise.”
Zach considers it. With work and Ella and you, his mind has been sort of chaotic. A drive, even a short one, will give him some relief.
“Thanks,” he finally says, giving his mom a grateful smile.
The streetlights plunge him in and out of darkness as he drives through town. When he got in the car, the impulse to go see you seemed ridiculous. With every minute that passes, it feels less and less silly.
Zach eventually pulls over and looks at his phone, staring at the text message he sent you ten minutes ago. How could he even ask to come over without coming on too strong or crossing a boundary?
He’s not sure if he believed in signs from the universe before, but when you text him right when he’s considering if he should text you, he takes it as his answer.
Nothing is ever her fault. But now I’m having a midnight snack lol. Are you still awake?
He replies: Yes. Just driving around. Do you want company?
He’s nervous as he waits. But then you send him your address.
Minutes later, you open your door to gentle knocks, heart skipping when you see him. At this point, being apart from Zach is starting to hurt. You lied when you texted him. You know exactly why you’re wired. It’s because he won’t leave your mind.
“Hi,” he says, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Kind of crazy that you’ve been to my house a million times, but I have no idea what your place looks like.”
“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “You need to see it that bad?”
“I think it’s what’s keeping me awake.”
You laugh, stepping back, inviting him in. Zach’s eyes travel over your apartment, taking in every little piece that you’ve put into it. Being here is more intimate than he expected. And then you shut the door behind him, thickening the tension, both of you now sharing complete privacy in a way you never have before.
“Is that an Ella original?” he says, pointing to a drawing stuck on your fridge.
“Yup. That’s me and her and the castle we live in,” you tell him. You lead him into the kitchen as you gaze at the bright crayon marking the paper. “And that’s her horse. She was very adamant about it being her horse. But I can pet it if I ask nicely.”
He laughs and gazes at the drawing, touched that you’d keep something his daughter made up on display. Even when you’re not at the house, you want to be reminded of her.
“Where am I?” he asks in mock offense.
“I’m sure she meant to include you, but the horse took up too much space,” you explain, looking over your shoulder up at him. He’s inches away from you, towering above you. You’re so close to him that you can see the stubble growing over his jaw.
“The tutus are a nice touch,” he says, pointing to the pink skirts drawn on both of you. You laugh and turn to face him all the way. You clear your throat, smitten that he’s really here.
“She was great tonight, huh?” you ask.
“She was.” Zach’s smile is bright, the same way it always is whenever he talks about her. “And she wanted all the grandparents there.”
“I think that’s progress.”
“Me, too.” He exhales. “It was an almost perfect night.”
“Almost?”
“My hand still hurts,” he mumbles, face pinching as he looks down at his hand.
“Listen…” you say with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, okay? I was stressed.” Zach laughs and it takes everything in him not to hug you. “Was it really that bad?”
“So bad,” he teases, flexing his hand. “You’re too reckless.”
“Reckless? Is that what you think of me?”
Zach cocks his head, staring down at you with a look that burns through you, and soberly says, “No. It’s not.”
His gaze drifts over your face, taking you in slowly. You think back to the first time you saw those eyes, sad and distant. Comparing the way he looked that morning to how he’s gazing at you right now is like comparing black and white.
The light atmosphere has quickly been replaced by a somberness hanging over both of you. Your heart is thumping against your chest. Hard.
“What, then?” you ask.
How can he even find the words to describe how you make him feel? You fit perfectly in every way. You settled into his life like there was always a place waiting just for you. Even tonight, when you grabbed his hand for only a moment, it felt like he was born to be touched by you.
You’ve brought light to his life. He always looked forward to coming home to his daughter, and now he looks forward to coming home to you, too. And having to continue to live like this, acting like his heart isn’t completely yours, is torture.
“I think you’re…” Zach’s tone is low, lids dropping as he looks at your lips before he speaks again. “Perfect.”
Your breath catches. You’ve been able to keep yourself away from him for what feels like ages. You’re not sure you’ll have the strength for much longer. This is the moment where everything can change. You know you both feel it.
“Should I not be here?” he says quietly.
It’s his way of making sure you’re okay. That you want him to be here as badly as he wants to be here. That even though maybe this shouldn’t be happening, you have faith that it will only bring you both joy, and you don’t need to consider the risks because you’ll never have to face them.
He looks so painfully unsure that you long to comfort him. Your hand finds his and he laces his warm fingers between yours the instant he feels you. He exhales slowly, never having felt so vulnerable before.
Too much is on the line. He’s only thinking of himself right now. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have–
“Stay,” you whisper. Your simple word untangles the knot in his chest. You step closer to seal the distance that remains between you. His eyes finally drift back up to find yours.
“I can’t help how I feel about you,” Zach murmurs. “I don’t want to mess up how good things are, but I just…”
He trails off into silence, sighing shakily.
“I know,” you say. “Me, too.”
“Tell me to leave,” he says with a note of pity. You breathe a sad chuckle.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you here.”
Zach’s grip on your hand tightens, his heart feeling like it’s just been put together after being fractured for years. His lips part and while he doesn’t know how to say how much your words mean to him, he knows how to show it.
He leans closer, cupping your face, capturing your lips with a soft and impatient kiss. You dissolve into bliss, eyelids fluttering closed as his hot mouth presses against yours, head swimming, body buzzing.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, eyelashes overlapping as you kiss deeply, hungrily tasting each other in adoration. His arms circle around you and surround you in warmth.
He lets out a short, almost silent moan against your lips, relieved and assured and grateful that you want him this badly, too. Everything about this feels right. He’s where he’s supposed to be, standing here, kissing you, baring his soul.
You’re breathless when you eventually pull away, eyes slowly opening as he tilts to plant a lazy kiss on your forehead, thumbs stroking your cheeks.
“I kept telling myself that I can’t like you,” he says against your skin. “Do you have any idea how impossible that is?”
You exhale a contented sigh, afraid that you did actually doze off and that this is all just a dream.
“I think I do,” you reply.
Zach’s laugh is breathy, leaning back just enough to look at you. He’s in awe, his lips tender from pressing against yours, his knees weak as he holds your face in his hands. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it or force himself not to stare, he lets himself drown in your eyes.
He brushes his lips against yours again and you smile under the kiss, placing your palm over his hand.
“Is this the hand I hurt?” you tease, gently squeezing.
“Ow,” he playfully winces, making you laugh. You nuzzle your cheek against his palm and smile up at him.
“You sure you like me?” you say. He’s sure he loves you, but it’s too much, too soon to say at this moment. “You know you can’t afford any injuries right now.”
“Worth it,” Zach plays along.
“I keep wanting to ask you about work,” you say. He hasn’t spoken much about playoffs, but you did a little research on his team’s standings. “How has it been? Are you stressed?”
“Pressure’s on, but I’m fine,” he says simply. Your words won’t find you at first. It’s sort of unbelievable how he doesn’t ever flaunt his success, not even a little bit.
“That’s it?” you laugh.
“What?”
“Your team could go to the finals and you’re just fine?” you say.
“How’d you know that?” he says, his heart warming.
“Had to look it up. Not like you’ll tell me,” you quip, pulling away, his hands falling off of you. Zach chuckles, following you into your living room.
“Are we fighting already?” he asks.
“We won’t be if you tell me why you get all cute and shy whenever you talk about your job,” you say, settling on the couch.
He sits to face you, his knee bumping yours. You love that he’s as close as you want him to be, instead of keeping a distance like before. He finds your hands, holding them in his.
“Just a second,” Zach mumbles. “I need to process that you called me cute.”
You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle against his chest.
“I’m serious,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. “We talk about my job all the time.”
“Oh, come on. Because we have to. That’s the whole deal.”
“Is it?”
Zach sighs, kissing the top of your head, loving the way your body slightly shakes with your laughter. You sit up again, looking down as you interlace your fingers with his, playing with his hands as you wait for him to speak.
“I love soccer,” he says, “but I never expected I’d be good enough to go pro. And somehow, I did and all the attention that comes with it is just… it’s not me. I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. Never wanted to be.”
You nod. You could tell soon after meeting him that while he’s confident and loves to joke around, he’s not one to demand the spotlight.
“And now the more attention I get,” he continues, “the more people might want to know about me and I’d rather keep Ella safe and give her a normal life.”
He scratches his cheek, uncertainty flashing on his face.
“And… I’m not exactly proud that I’m not working a normal job. I’m always thinking that maybe it’d be better for Ella if I had a nine to five, but the pay is great and I can’t play forever, so I just want to save up as much as I can for her. Then I’ll find something more steady.”
You're sure you’ve never met a person this humble. It’s nice to know what goes on in his head after having wondered for so long.
“Will you still even need a nanny then?” you ask lightheartedly. Zach purses his lips as he nods.
“I will if she’s you.” You smile as he pulls you in, holding you as your cheek rests against his shoulder.
“I don’t think there’s anything that you shouldn’t be proud of,” you tell him. “You’re an amazing father.”
“You don’t know how nice it is to hear you say that,” he admits. The worries that he’s being selfish have been gnawing at him for a long time. He’s always concerned he’s making the wrong choices for his daughter.
“I think it every time I see you with her. I know you said she was a surprise, but you treat her like being her dad is all you’ve ever wanted.”
Zach leans to kiss your forehead over and over again, palm gently pressed on your cheek, like he’s making up for all the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. You start to giggle under all the kisses, hugging him tighter.
“Speaking of,” you say, “I’m sure you’re thinking it, too, but we should keep acting like we’re just friends when we’re around our boss.”
He breathes a chuckle, nodding as he looks down at you lovingly.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow. She’ll be so happy when we tell her.”
“You think so?” you say, your heart blooming from the certainty in his words, from the way he unabashedly intends on being with you and telling his daughter.
“She’s always asking me if I like you.” Truthfully, Ella asks if he loves you, but again, he doesn’t want to use that word until he’s sure you’re comfortable with it.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She actually asks if I like you yet. It’s like she knows it’s inevitable.”
You realize that the way you’re wrapped up in each other does feel like it was always inevitable. You know that your heart would never have been able to resist him. You’re glad he feels the same way about you.
────୨ৎ────
A week after the night in your apartment is the semi-final. You’re sitting in the living room playing with Ella with the game on in the background. She’s partly interested, whereas you can’t ignore the ball of nerves sitting deep in your stomach.
Zach’s been opening up more about his job when you get time alone, admitting that the pressure can give him tunnel-vision sometimes. You’ve taken on the workload as much as you can so that he’s not too stressed.
You’ve kept things the same when you’re around Ella and you’ve already determined that if she asks why you’re so invested in what’s on tv, you’ll simply say you grew an interest in soccer after the home game you both attended. But she’s too busy playing with clay to care.
The first half ends with no goals scored. You set up an afternoon snack for Ella, letting her help, your mind elsewhere as you imagine Zach in the locker room, wondering what his coach is telling him and what he’s thinking about at this moment.
Five minutes after half-time, the opponents score. Your heart sinks. Twenty minutes later, Zach scores. You have to stifle how loudly you want to cheer.
Then, the game goes to penalty shoot-outs. Zach had told you how much he hates when a game comes down to that. It’s a nail-biting few minutes, but Zach’s team wins, securing their spot in the finals. In his next game, his team could take the cup.
Right before dinner, you and Ella change into the jerseys you’d secretly bought a few days ago. Zach already told you that even if his team wants to celebrate a win together, he’d prefer to see you two, so you know he’s coming straight home.
He steps through the front door to see you in his team’s jerseys, rushing to give him a hug. Your arms are around his shoulders while Ella’s are around his hips, both of you excitedly cheering. Zach’s heart has never felt so full.
“So, I take it you watched it?” he mumbles into your hair, reveling in the familiar aroma of your shampoo. It takes everything in you not to kiss him when you pull back.
“You did amazing,” you tell him.
“Daddy, do cats ever come to your games?” Ella asks.
Zach looks at you, puzzled.
“There was a commercial with clips of animals crashing soccer games,” you explain, laughing. “It’s a valid question.”
“I haven’t seen any,” he tells her, kneeling to meet her eyeline. “But I hope we get one so I can tell you all about it.”
“Could we keep it?” she asks.
“If a cat comes onto our field and it doesn’t have an owner, sure, we can keep it,” he says. She jumps excitedly, then runs off to play. Zach stands up again, grinning at you.
“Don’t let her watch any more matches,” he says. “If a cat shows up, I’m done for.” You laugh, crossing your arms simply to keep yourself from touching him.
“Congratulations,” you say. “I know you don’t like the attention, but you deserve it.”
“Thanks.” He looks down at your jersey. “It looks great on you.”
“Yeah?” you ask, turning to show him the back. It’s his last name and number. He almost can’t believe this is really happening, that he met someone like you who cares about him this much.
“Better on you, I think,” you say.
“Impossible.”
You face him and he gazes at your lips in the way you know means he wants to kiss you. In the few private moments you’ve had since you confessed your feelings for each other, you’ve shared warm hugs and sweet kisses. You can’t wait until you don’t have to hide your love for him anymore.
“Dinner in twenty,” you tell him. “I bet you worked up an appetite.”
Zach’s legs are heavy as he trudges up the stairs, partly from fatigue, but mostly because the last thing his body wants to do is be away from you.
────୨ৎ────
Zach’s family drives in to watch the championship game at the house. You weren’t all that nervous around them before, but now that you and Zach are privately dating, you’re eager to impress them.
He had mentioned to you that he hadn’t told them about you yet, but he’s hoping to the next time he sees them. He also told you how his mom had a suspicion about you two, which makes you hope you’re not too obvious.
It’s only been a couple of weeks since you decided to date, but every moment you get alone with Zach isn’t long enough. You knew he was kind-hearted, but now that he’s not holding back, he showers you with affection and compliments, reminding you of how much he appreciates you every day.
Just like it is with Zach, it’s easy with his family. You talk and snack and take turns playing with Ella while you watch the game. The game starts off as promising, but unfortunately, the final ends with a loss for his team.
“He did tell me they were kind of the underdogs,” you say to his family sadly, watching the screen. “I still think it’s great that he got this far.”
The stadium he’s playing in is hours away and he won’t be getting home until after midnight. You spend the rest of the evening with Zach’s family, wishing you could see him and give him a comforting hug.
When Zach gets to the locker room, dejected and disappointed, he checks his phone to see a text from you. I know it’s not how you wanted the season to end, but you played an amazing game. We’re all so proud of you, no matter what.
It’s ten minutes past midnight when you hear the front door open. You’ve been sitting in the kitchen, staying awake on your phone after everyone turned in for the night. You turn on the kettle you already filled with water and find Zach in the dim hallway, meeting his eyes with sympathy.
“You’re here,” he mumbles in surprise. You only close the distance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly.
“Wanted to see you,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve had better days,” he admits, kissing your neck. “This feels good, though.”
“I’m making you some tea if you want it,” you tell him, “but if you’d rather go to bed, I get it.”
“Tea sounds good.” He pulls back, stroking your cheek. “You’re really proud of me? Even though I’m a total loser?”
You half-chuckle, nudging him.
“Never call yourself that again,” you say.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll stop ‘accidentally’ making too much food,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.
You settle in the kitchen, reminded of the first time you sat together like this all those months ago to plan Ella’s birthday party. Now she’s halfway to six years old, growing faster than you could have ever anticipated.
After you put the steaming mug of tea in front of him, Zach puts his hand over yours, squeezing.
“I tried to be positive but I saw it coming,” he admits to you. “They were the stronger team. We’ll just train harder and hopefully get them next year.”
“And I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you say. “Just don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? You’re not a loser.”
“Baby…” Zach breathes a chuckle. “Being with you makes me feel like I’m always winning. It sucks to get this far and to put so much work in just to lose, but knowing you and Ella are waiting for me at home… That's what my life is really about.”
You stare at him, awestruck, heart beating so hard that you can hear it in your ears.
“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say, but I’ve loved you for a long time.”
You bite your lip, giving into the urge to lean closer and kiss him. When you pull back, palm resting on his cheek, you smile.
“I love you, too,” you say. “It’s not too soon.”
“Phew. I was more nervous about telling you than I was about the game,” he says. You laugh, pinching his cheek.
“Stop being so cute,” you whisper.
“I can’t help it,” he quips. “I didn’t forget how you said you haven’t been on a date in forever. What do you think about tomorrow night? Ella will stay with my family and you and I can go out for dinner.”
“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. You chat a little longer before you head home.
When Zach tells his mother he’s taking you out for dinner the next morning, she’s overjoyed to hear that you’re an item now and throws in a few ‘I told you so’s. When the evening rolls around, he tells Ella he’s running some errands and instead drives to pick you up from your place.
Sitting across from you at a restaurant on a real date feels like a dream. He holds your hand on the table and nudges your knee with his every so often, unable to keep his hands off of you like usual. It’s like talking with a best friend, the conversation flowing so naturally that he refuses to believe he’s only known you for just shy of a year.
When he drives you home after dinner, you lose track of time kissing him goodnight.
────୨ৎ────
You and Zach had discussed that today would be the day. Now that you’ve been together for over eight months, he’s ready to tell Ella.
It’s a Saturday and Zach’s making lunch while you and Ella set the table. Long gone are the days of spending just a few minutes together, one of you arriving at the house while the other one gets ready to leave. The three of you are almost always a unit now, settled into a routine.
After lunch, you leave as planned so he can talk to her one-on-one. Zach finds Ella drawing on her bedroom floor after he says his goodbyes to you and knocks on her door.
“What are you drawing?” he asks.
She holds up the paper, three figures under the shining sun. When he asks if that’s you, him, and her, she happily nods.
Zach settles on the floor, watching the way she colors in the yellow sun, her legs kicking in the air. He’s seen a change in his child. There’s no doubt about it.
While she was always a happy kid, she’s grown to be much more expressive and affectionate since you stepped into their lives. You bring out the best in her. The best in him, too.
He tries to force down the tears that come up every time he looks at his daughter and thinks about what happened a year ago. She’s too small to have to know the pain of abandonment and betrayal. He pushes away the thought.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Zach says, clearing his throat.
“Do you want another bracelet?” she says.
Zach smirks, looking down at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that she made for him a few days ago. She made you a matching one that you always wear, too.
“Yeah, if you’re not too busy,” he says. “But that’s not it.”
He says it exactly as he rehearsed, telling her how happy you make him and asking if she’s okay with you being his girlfriend. When she grins up at him and asks if that means that you can move in with them, he chuckles, tears pricking his eyes.
Zach always felt like he needed to make up for the love Ella’s mother wasn’t giving her. Now, there’s nothing to make up for, nothing missing. He wishes the circumstances had been different, but he knows he’s lucky that he met you.
He was sure soon after he got to know you that his daughter would grow to love you. Deep down, he was sure that he would grow to love you, too.
────୨ৎ────
It’s past nine p.m. when Zach gets home from training. Now that he’s in the midst of playoffs again, he doesn’t get as much time at home anymore, but he takes it in stride.
When he can’t find you on the main floor, he tiptoes upstairs in case you’ve fallen asleep putting Ella to bed. Sure enough, she’s snuggled up next to you, both of you snoozing.
It’s been a month since he told her about your relationship and somehow, she’s grown to love you even more now that she knows you love her dad. Zach wonders if Ella can see how much happier he is these days. He tried to hide how empty he felt before, but maybe she caught on.
He’d rather not know. He’s rather not think about the past at all, really. Because right now, as he gazes into his daughter’s bedroom to see you hugging each other in your sleep, he knows he’s looking at his future.
(the end)
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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 2 days ago
Text
Something Else - Lando Norris
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<word count - 8614> |part 1 - Nerd|part 2 - Rumours|part 3 - So Special|
warnings: more maths, biology, bitches
That night, Lando spent his evening in his room, procrastinating. He had homework to do, but he couldn't bring himself to sit at his desk and pick up his pen. Plus, he could just do it with you tomorrow, anyway. 
The excitement that he felt as a result of getting to sit with you again, getting to spend time with you again was unlike anything else he had ever felt. It was like he was a young child on Christmas Eve, unable to wait for the next morning to roll around so that they could see what Santa had brought them. 
His whole family could see a clear shift in his mood, since they had grown so accustomed to moody, sad Lando over the past couple of days. All he wanted to do was get to school the next day just so that he could get to second break and meet you in the library - and that was something he never thought he'd say. 
Lando had also made his mind up that tomorrow, he was going to ask for your snap. Or your number. Having your number felt a lot more personal and serious than just having your Snapchat. He had a lot of people's snaps, but not many people's numbers. But he wanted yours. 
He wanted to save the conversations you'd have, he wanted to be able to call you when he got home from school and talk to you until he couldn't keep his eyes from drooping shut and then do it all again the next day until he could spend his weekends with you. 
Lando truly was the epitome of a love-sick teenage boy, pining after a girl who he wasn't even sure who wanted him back. You had to though, right? You wore his jumpers, you helped him with his work, he drove you home, hell you hugged each other. 
Meanwhile, you were happy, just not to the scale that Lando was. You were confused, to say the least. You didn't think that everything was just automatically going to blow over just because you had stuck up for yourself once, and the fact that you had was surprising to you. 
But you didn't know if you could keep on standing up for yourself, remembering how you had just broken down in front of Lando and felt like a complete idiot. It also baffled you how... understanding, he had been.
He didn't laugh, didn't tell you to get a grip, he didn't stand there awkwardly - well, he did but he had the right intentions. He had hugged you. I mean, what teenage boy hugs a girl that they're friends with when she's crying?
Despite the jokes he sometimes made, he clearly had an old head on young shoulders. The maturity that he had showed made you like him more, if you were being honest. How much you like him was obvious to you at this point.
You'd always been able to appreciate his face, but now it was more than that. You wanted to spend time with him, sit with him, just be near him. You wanted to laugh at his jokes, hear his voice, make him laugh. 
Yet there was always the fear. If you were actually together, what other rumours would people spout? How much worse would it get? Sure, you'd have Lando there by your side, and you knew he'd stick up for you, but how much more could you take? 
Was your adoration of him enough to cancel out everything people said?
Alas, the next morning, you had the courage to get on the bus instead of having to walk the freezing journey to school. Lando wasn't there, but you weren't upset by it. Max and his friends also didn't say anything, which was... weird, but you chose to ignore it. 
That and the weird feeling of dread that you had in your gut. 
Anyway, you walked into school, actually going to the canteen instead of the toilets or the lockers in fear of people talking to you. As you sat down at the table you usually did, the people that filtered in gave you weird looks. 
It almost looked remorseful, maybe something along the lines of pity? They spoke in hushed whispers around you, none of them making the effort to speak to you. You just scrolled on your phone as you sat there, your headphones in your ears. 
You could hear the faint chatterings of the other people in your year, but you were more focused on your phone. Eventually, the people in the canteen fell silent, the light buzzing of their conversations dying down as the doors opened. 
Out of curiosity, you looked up to see Lilly, strutting into the room. You knew something was amiss, but you had no clue what it was. People looked between you and her, and you were so confused as to what was going on. 
To make the atmosphere worse, Lando walked in after her a few seconds later, and you saw how come people's eyes went wide. Lando smiled at you before taking himself over to his friends, and Lilly went to her own table. 
"Mate, is it true?" Max asked Lando, and all he could do was roll his eyes. He had heard the sentence a lot of time recently, and he could only assume that he was about to hear some bullshit. But what Max said nearly made his heart stop. 
"Did you cheat on Y/N with Lilly?" 
Now that was a question that had a lot to unpack. To start off with, there was no way he could've cheated on you since you weren't together, that was the first major thing that he went through in his head. 
The second thing was that it was a stupid question; he'd never cheat on you. If you were his, he wouldn't risk losing you over something so stupid and hurtful as cheating. If you were his, he'd never have the desire to be with anyone else. If you were his, he'd be the best damn boyfriend he could've possibly been. 
Thirdly, it was already established that he wouldn't cheat to begin with, but certainly not with Lilly. God, even the sound of her name in his head made him want to throw up. He knew she had a massive crush on him, but he'd never stoop that low. 
"Who the fuck said that?" he rushed, his tone not lacking urgency. 
"I don't know where it came from, Will told me this morning," Max sheepishly said, not missing the alarm in Lando's voice. He knew his friend had been having a hard time lately - and he was a participant. But he also knew that it was going to get worse from now.
"Oh my christ," he mumbled, getting up nearly as quickly as he had sat down. Lando had spotted Will going over to the lockers earlier, and he hoped he was still there. You saw his face, the look on it. 
There was no emotion on his features other than rage, and you still didn't know what was going on. As he left, people carried on looking between you and Lilly, and you could only assume that it was something to do with her. 
"Will," Lando said, spotting the blonde boy fiddling with dials on his locker. 
"Hey Lando! What's-" he cheerily started, but he stopped when he saw Lando's face. He knew what he was asking about. "What's up, mate?" he asked, not even knowing if he wanted to find the answer out in the end.                                             
"What did you tell Max? About me 'cheating' on Y/N?" 
Will was internally cursing Max for telling Lando that he had been the one to spread the message around the friend group, and he was nothing short of terrified of Lando right now. "I just told him what Maisie told me," he quietly said. 
"And what did Maisie tell you?" Lando prompted.
"She just said that things weren't great between you and Y/N and that you apparently spent last night with Lilly..." he trailed off, and the pieces all fell into place in his head. Lilly. 
She had surely been the one to spread it around her friends, who were the gossipers of the school. He should've known it would be her, especially after how she had spoken to you and about you when he was listening. 
He wasn't going to bother going to Maisie and asking her what Lilly had said, but he knew Lilly would just spout pure and utter bullshit to him and it'd be a waste of time trying to get the truth out of her. At least Maisie would be easy to intimidate the veracities of the story out of. 
Lando needed to get to the bottom of this, preferably before first period so you wouldn't spend your lesson upset. It was naive to think that this wouldn't get back to you before that point, but he would be a lot more relieved if he could tell you what was going on before you got upset. 
"You absolute idiot, you know that Y/N and I aren't together, and you sure as hell know that I wouldn't touch that bitch with a 10 foot barge pole!" Lando spat, taking himself away from will before he did something he'd regret. 
Meanwhile, you were still in the dark about everything that was going on. Until now. "Hey... erm... I'm really sorry to hear about what Lando did. It's really shitty. Especially with Lilly. I guess we all should've seen it coming," someone came up to you and said. 
It was one of the usually shy girls, so it was surprising to see her come and talk to you out of the blue. "What are you talking about?" you asked, and her mouth dropped.
"You don't know what he did?" she asked, suddenly feeling like this was the single worst idea she had had in at least the last five years. 
"What did he do?" you replied, thinking that Lando had done or said something that was instantly going to ruin the reconciliation that you had both made yesterday. You really hoped that it wasn't something he had done, because you didn't think you could handle that volume of feelings again. 
"With... Lilly... you know... cheated..." she mumbled, avoiding your eyes and looking at the freshly buffed canteen floor. 
"Lando can't cheat if we were never together to begin with," you coldly said, your voice betraying no emotion. For some reason, the word 'cheated' sent a pang of hurt through your body, but you couldn't quite decipher why. 
Maybe it was just the mere idea of Lando cheating on you that sent your heart into a spiral, but there was certainly something about it that hurt. And with Lilly? Ha, that was funny. As if he'd do that... or would he?
Oh here came the doubt, the questioning, the lack of reasoning. Lando would never cheat on you. Never. He was not that kind of guy, and you couldn't even see him thinking of it, let alone actually doing it. But you weren't even together so it didn't matter.
"Oh... I... erm... sorry..." she trailed off, scurrying away from you before you had chance to say anything else. Now you knew why everyone was giving you looks and whispering about you. They all believed that you and Lando were together from the first set of rumours, and now it seemed perfectly plausible that he had cheated on you. Just great. 
In the interim, Lando skulked down the hall, before spotting Maisie just before she reached the canteen. "Maisie!" he called out, jogging up to catch her. The girl's face absolutely fell when she saw Lando, and she was clearly of the knowledge that she was in some deep shit.
"Look, I only know what Lilly told me, OK?" she said, and he could have laughed at how scared she was. 
"Which was...?"
"That things between you and Y/N were rocky, to say the least. Apparently she was too boring, too square for you. So you called Lilly and... you know." Maisie explained. The implication in her words wasn't lost on Lando, and he could feel the hot sears of fury building up in his stomach and spreading through his veins. 
"And you believed it? You really fucking believed a word that she said? Are you seriously that naive?" he grovelled through gritted teeth, really trying not to lose his temper with the cowardly girl in front of him.
Maisie was scared. Terrified, even. "She's my friend... I..." she stuttered, unable to meet his eyes. 
"Well she shouldn't be, get better friends. She is nothing but a lying, manipulative, awful person that you'll be better off getting rid of sooner rather than later," he told Maisie, leaving her awestruck at what he had said. 
Now all Lando had to do was find the single thing that had caused him the most distress as of recent: Lilly.
He had seen her in the canteen, and he assumed that she'd still be there. Pushing past Maisie, he stormed into the room, and you knew he knew. You had instantly jumped to the conclusion that Lilly had been the one to spread the rumours, and now it seemed that Lando was trying to resolve the issue. 
"Lilly what the fuck are you playing at?" he sneered, leaning over the table and towering over her. The smirk on her face looked proud of what she'd done, and it pissed him off even more than he already was, if that was possible.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you watching him. He knew you knew, and he was going to go to every length that he could to make sure that you weren't upset by this, by her. "Not my fault she was too vanilla for you," she laughed, her friends grinning along. 
"Too vanilla? Are you out of your fucking mind? I'd rather be dead than touch you!" Lando near on yelled, people averting their eyes to him as his voice raised slightly. 
"Not what you were saying last night..." she chided in a sing song tone, and Lando was about 2 seconds away from losing his cool. 
"Well then let me make it quite clear. I would never ever want to be anywhere near you, got it? Now stop making shit up that everyone knows isn't true just because no one actually likes you. Y/N doesn't, your friends don't, no one around here does, and I sure as hell don't," he ranted, and Lilly's confidence faltered. 
He could see the slight expression of jealousy on her face, since she knew deep down that her efforts of being with Lando were proving futile. There was also some semblance of hurt there, since it was never nice to be verbally berated by the boy you had a crush on. 
"And what makes her so special, eh? Her drab personality? The fact that she's a complete suck up? Her lack of friends? Or is it just because she's clever?" she spat back, her tone not lacking that familiar snark that she was famous for. 
"She's a hell of a lot more than you'll ever be. If I hear one more lie come from your mouth, your life around here will be hell," Lando finished, moving across the canteen to go and sit with his friends: who had all been watching the ordeal from afar. 
He hadn't noticed, but pretty much everyone in the year was watching the argument. Even you, sitting at your table by the wall, were dumbfounded. As Lando sat down, you could see how he was trying to seem all cool, calm and collected like he normally was.
But, you could see the faint inklings of his anger still lingering on the surface, and you were sure they'd be there for the rest of the day. You were pissed off too, but you couldn't help but feel a small smidgen of upset too.
You didn't want to be upset, not by Lilly, never by Lilly. Yet you were. That sad feeling that you'd had over the past couple of days was creeping back in, as much as you were willing it to go away so that you could carry on as if this had never happened. 
Cutting through the light chatter, the bell rang out that signalled that you should go to first period. You spent your hour in history not really concentrating on the details of the Cuban Missile Crisis, more on what Lilly had said.
Something about the words ran deeper than they ought to have, and it was like an itch you couldn't quite scratch. "Y/N, who was it that met with Anatoly Dobrynin to secretly resolve the crisis?" your teacher interrupted, pushing you momentarily off the path that your mind was taking you down.
"Erm..." you stuttered, and something that resembled concern flashed in your teacher's eyes. You were normally so on the ball, always switched on and tuned into lessons. But, he wouldn't hold it against you that you were zoned out once.
He had never ever seen you not paying attention, so he'd let it slide. Just before he said the answer, it popped into your head. You seemed to remember reading about it in your textbook once, but it might not have been right. "Robert Kennedy?" you said, and a soft smile found its way onto his face. 
"Yes, well done," he nodded, and you were off the hook for now. You could go back to your little daydreams about everything that had gone on in the morning. Or day-mares. You weren't quite sure. 
First break and second period went by, and you remembered that you said you'd help Lando with his biology. The anxiety that you used to feel about seeing Lando was crawling through you, feeling almost like a hand wrapped around your neck.
You were at the library first, as usual. You didn't have biology today, but you had brought your text book just so you could fill in any of the gaps in your own knowledge before attempting to teach Lando any of it. 
You weren't actually sure what about anatomy he was wanting to learn or if that was just a joke, but you thought it would be better to be prepared. The chair in front of you was pulled out, and Lando sat down with a big grin on his face. 
He was trying to be normal, but he was scrutinising your every move to see if you were OK. "Hey," he smiled, rummaging through his bag to get out his crumpled work book and biology textbook. "So, tell me about that cycle thing," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, ready to listen to you. 
"The menstrual cycle?" you pressed, since there were many cycles he could have been referring to. Plus, it was funny to see the flush of red on his cheeks and the way the tips of his ears turned pink when he was embarrassed.
Lando may have been a mature boy when it came to your emotions, but he was just like the rest of them when it came to talking about slightly awkward topics like periods. "Erm... yeah. That one." he confirmed. 
"OK, so, what you need to know about are the 4 hormones. You've got LH, oestrogen, progesterone and FSH. FSH causes the maturing of the egg in the ovary, LH triggers ovulation, which is the release of the egg into the uterus. Oestrogen repairs and thickens the uterus lining, and progesterone maintains the uterus lining." you explained, and Lando tried to be an active listener by nodding his head as you spoke. 
"Sure, yeah, I can remember that," he nodded. "You'll probably have to explain it a few times to me, but I can remember that. It isn't so hard," he reassured, but it sounded like he was telling himself more than he was telling you. 
"So from that, try some practice questions, and then we can fill in any gaps after, yeah?" you said, taking his textbook and flicking through the pages until you found the practice questions at the end of the chapter on the menstrual cycle. 
"Yes ma'am," he jokingly saluted, picking up his pen and looking after the questions. "Do you have some paper?" he asked, clearly not having brought any. You just rolled your eyes at him, ripping a sheet out of your notebook for him. "Thanks, you're the best," he winked at you, his eyes moving down to the paper on the table before he could spot you blushing. 
God was he charming. As Lando distracted himself with getting on with the practice questions, you figured you might as well finish your physics homework that you had been given in second period. It wouldn't take you long if you concentrated. 
But it was hindered by that small feeling of anxiety again. Anxiety of being here with Lando. Lilly's words echoed in your head again, and the stab of pain didn't become any less stinging as you thought about it.  
'Her drab personality?' You knew you weren't the most egregiously outgoing person in the world, or the most funny, but you didn't think you were drab, per se. Maybe just reserved. The people that had put the time in to get to know you seemed to find you funny.
Well, Lando seemed to find you funny. That had to count for something, right? You didn't have to be overly loud or obnoxious just to have a personality, but you were in high school, so maybe you did. 
'The fact that she's a complete suck up?' You wouldn't say you were exactly a suck up, you just liked doing well in your lessons, it was as simple as that. You didn't like getting told off, so you did your work, and you did it well. 
The praise brought you a nice little ding of satisfaction, and you didn't really see much reason to act out or not do your work. You had your moments where you had forgotten things, but your teachers were lenient since you were always so diligent. 
'Her lack of friends?' Now that was just inaccurate. You had friends, most of them were people you just so happened to sit next to in your lessons and you hung out on occasion. You didn't hang out with them in school since you liked to knuckle down and get your work done during the day so you could limit the amount you did at home. 
You went out on the weekends, whether it be for lunch or to do some activity that one of them had picked. There was just the illusion that you didn't have any friends, but you didn't expect Lilly to be so observant. 
'Or is it just because she's clever?' The more you thought about it, the more you thought that being smart was the only thing you had going for you. It was easy to look past everything that made you you when you were always getting the best grades. 
A lot of people seemed to omit the detail of your name when referring to you, simply calling you the 'smart one'. It had never bothered you before, so why did it now? Surely though, Lando didn't just like you because you were smart?
Most of the time, you weren't being academic when you spent time together, so there had to be more to it than that. As you got in your own head, your self-confidence was dwindling. Was all of that really what people thought of you?
That you were drab, friendless, a kiss ass, just the smart one? Maybe they had and you had just never noticed. All anyone ever saw you as was clever. The little lonely thing who just studied instead of having a worthy social life. 
That you were destined for solitude with nothing but your textbooks and scientific journals teeming with knowledge. It wasn't how you wanted yourself to be seen, not in the slightest. For a moment, you considered having a full on glow up, complete with the leather pants and hairspray - just like Sandy in Grease.
But that would be a little too much, so you decided against the idea. At least you didn't have long before you could leave that place and never look back. School had never been about the people to you, not until now, anyway. 
Lando noticed that you weren't doing anything, your pen was just hovering over your sheet and it had been for a few minutes now. He didn't know whether you were brainstorming or thinking, but by the look on your face, whatever you were thinking wasn't pleasant.
"Hey..." he softly mumbled, reaching out hand to place on your arm from across the table. He gently shook you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You just looked at him for a moment, your brain taking you back to where you were. 
Right. Studying. Biology. Physics. With Lando.
"You stuck?" you asked, leaning over to glance at the practice questions he had been scribbling down onto the paper. 
"No, you just seem a bit spaced out. You doing OK?" he asked, concern written all over his face. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, and he was nearly 100% sure that he was right. 
"Yeah, I'm good, just tired," you lied through your teeth, and Lando knew it was complete and utter bullshit. His expression hardened, not liking that you were lying to him. He hated it when you lied to him.
"Hey, c'mon, don't do that. Talk to me," he urged, his hand still remaining on your arm as he squeezed it. You stayed silent, not wanting him to take the mick out of you for thinking the way you were. But Lando wasn't having it. "Please? You're clearly upset about something. You can tell me." he pressed. 
"I just... nevermind. It's stupid," you dismissed, picking your pen back up to actually make an attempt on your physics homework. 
"No, we're not doing that. If you don't tell me, then I can't make it better," he carried on pushing. Lando just wanted you to open up to him, to make you see that he could trust you. He wanted to fix your problems for you.
"I... do you think I'm drab?" you asked, and he was taken aback. He took a few seconds, thinking over your question. He hated that you even had to ask him that in the first place. 
"No, course I don't, you're so much more-"
"OK so do you think I'm a suck up? Do you think I have no friends? Is the only good thing about me my brain?" you rambled, and his face softened. He was right. It was exactly what he thought it would be: Lilly's words had gotten to you. 
"No, no. Listen to me," he said, but you were still looking down at the paper and fiddling with the top of your pen. "Can you look at me?" he asked. His mum always got him to look at her when he was upset and she was trying to be reassuring, so he figured he'd try the same approach as her.
"Y/N. Look at me." he said more firmly. The sternness in his tone wasn't like anything you had heard from him, and you didn't know what else to do apart from listen to him and do as he said. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, the softness hiding behind the hard exterior. 
"You are none of that. Don't let Lilly think any less of yourself. You're not drab, you're a joy to be around. You're not a suckup, you're a hard worker. You have friends, you've got me. And there is so much more to you that just your brain. Sure, it's an incredible thing that I admire about you, but there's more to you than just that."
Now you really didn't know what to say. Somehow, Lando had just said exactly what you needed to hear. Yet it didn't make the insecurity go away, not fully. "But do you think other people think that? Or is Lilly just saying what everyone thinks...?" you nearly whispered. 
"You don't need to care about anyone's opinion. Not everyone else's, not mine, and certainly not Lilly's. The only opinion you should care about is yours," he told you, and that was another moment where Lando showed that he was wise beyond his years. 
"OK," you agreed, and Lando finally removed his hand from your arm. He seemed settled by your agreement, but he knew he hadn't fully convinced you. He'd keep an eye on you and be ready to swoop in and quash any more of that lingered self deprecating doubt. 
"Now, do your physics. We can't have our number one scholar falling behind, can we?" he chuckled, trying to bring some light to the situation. 
"As if you could catch up, Norris," you laughed, finally starting the questions that you had to do. You had them done in ten minutes, and finally the bell went for the end of second break. You and Lando packed up your stuff, ready to head to your next lesson. 
"Hey, can we meet back here for the second half of lunch? I've got some maths I need help on," he asked, and you couldn't say no to him.
"Sure, I'll be here all lunch so just come up whenever," you told him, and he ran out to the language block for French so that he wasn't late. You just had English downstairs, so it was a short walk for you. 
Exactly as he said, Lando trudged back up to the library halfway through lunch. "My French teacher is an absolute bitch. She kept me behind for ten minutes because apparently the way I say 'jouer' isn't French enough for her. We went through pronunciation for ages and said I need to work on it," he scoffed, plopping down in front of you and earning a glare from the librarian. 
"So are we doing French or maths today?" you chuckled, thinking he'd want to do French after his little outburst. 
"I would rather die than have to think of 'qu'est ce il y a dans ta ville' again," he mocked, purposely avoiding trying to pronounce the words right. "We're doing maths. And we're doing polynomial division. Because further maths is kicking my arse at the moment,"
"Sure, sure, OK. Get your book out," you told him, going into your bag to get your own maths book out. You had it last period, so you thankfully had all your stuff to hand.
"You know, I'd be much better at maths if I could sit with you again..." he said, hoping you'd catch onto what he was asking. It was true - his maths was a hell of a lot better when he had you to help him and guide him through it. 
"Are you asking if you can come back to your old place?"
"Yes. Yes I am." he confirmed. 
"Then yeah, I think you're good to move back to your old place," you confirmed, and the smile on his face was adorable. If you were being honest with yourself, you were also missing him in maths. The seat next to you had been left vacant, and you quite liked it that way.
But, having Lando there would've been a hell of a lot better than sitting by yourself. You enjoyed teaching him and it brought you a lot of satisfaction. It was nice to have that sense of fulfillment when you had shared your knowledge to someone, especially when it was Lando. 
 "So what is it about polynomial division that you don't get?" you asked, taking his book from him and looking at the half-done sums on the page.
"I get the first bit about putting x into x cubed, but from there? Nah," he told you, and you could see what he meant. He had gotten past step one, but had completely faltered on the rest of the maths.
"So now you want to times out your x squared by the -4 after the x and put that under there," you told him, pointing to the spot on the page where he needed to put in the multiplied terms and numbers. 
You talked Lando through the rest of the steps and went over a few more with him, before letting him go through a few himself. "Are you OK? You know, after earlier and everything. I don't want you thinking like that about yourself,"
"Oh, yeah, it was just a short thing. I was being silly," you shook your head, and Lando seemed to believe you. 
"Good. And... what do I do from this bit? Minus the 3?"
"No, plus. If you try to minus a minus, it turns into a plus, yeah?" you reiterated, and he instantly remembered the small maths fact. He just smiled at you, and you couldn't quite decipher what the look in his eyes was. It looked like some form of wonder, but you decided that that was just wishful thinking on your part. 
"You're something else, you know that?" he quietly said, and you wouldn't have caught it if you weren't in the near silence of the library. 
"Hm?" you asked, wanting to make sure you had heard what you thought you had heard. 
"Oh, nothing," he blushed, pretending like he was doing his maths while you sat there. Lando mentally scolded himself for the slip up, annoyed that he had let it leave his lips. It was a freudian slip, yes, but he wasn't going to admit that. 
He wanted to tell you again, and he wanted to tell you over and over and over again until you believed it, but he didn't want to push it too far. You had only just gotten back to normal, and he didn't want to ruin it just as quickly as he had gotten it back. 
You both worked in silence until you needed to go to your 4th lesson of the day, yours being Spanish and Lando's being chemistry. "Can I walk you there?" he asked, not caring if he was late for chemistry, he hated the lesson anyway.
"Sure," you agreed, packing up your stuff and walking by his side. Lando wanted to be able to reach out, intertwine his fingers with yours and feel the warmth of your hand. But again, that'd be too much far too soon. 
People gave you dubious glances as you walked through the corridors, and the people going into your class thought it was weird when Lando just stood outside with you when they knew he wasn't in their class. "Have a good lesson, yeah? I'll see you in maths," he smiled, leaning against the wall next to the classroom door. 
"Yeah, enjoy chemistry," you smiled at him, walking in and taking your seat. After spending all that time with Lando, you forgot one teeny weeny detail. You sat with Lilly in Spanish. Great. And the realisation kicked in when she took her seat next to you. 
Dread settled in the pit of your stomach, even if she didn't say anything for the first half of the lesson. The two of you didn't have any reason to talk, so you were perfectly happy with ignoring her existence and getting your lesson out of the way. 
Yet of course, you had to do partner work. The task was simple, it was just testing each other on vocab. One of you would give the English word, and the other would give the Spanish word back. But, it wasn't like you could get out of it or ask to move places, since that would be way too obvious. She didn't initiate the conversation, so you had to be the bigger person and start it.
"Do you want me to ask first or do you want to?" you asked, and she looked at you as if you had just thrown up on her. The disgust on her face was obvious, since she made no attempt to hide it. If anything, she was playing up to make you feel worse. 
"You can ask," she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. You looked at the vocabulary that you had written down in your book, scanning through the different words.
"OK... what is the plot?" you asked, and she sighed.
"Don't know." Oh. So that was how this was going to go. OK, yeah, sure, you got the idea. 
"El argumento. What is the scene?" 
"Don't know." she said, looking bored as ever. She looked like she wanted to say something, but for whatever reason, she was holding her tongue. That wasn't like Lilly, not at all, so you were slightly surprised. 
"It's really easy, come on," you huffed, feeling quite frustrated that she was being so stubborn and pig headed. But it was Lilly, what else were you expecting? 
"Look, Y/N, if it wasn't already obvious, I don't like you, and I'm certainly not going to sit here and play classmates with you, OK?" she said in the way an adult would scold a child. 
"Good, because if it wasn't already obvious, I don't like you either. But I'm not going to sit here and be a bitch about it, OK?" you replied with the same tone, and you spotted the spark that ignited in her eyes. 
Did you slightly regret snapping back? Yes. But was it a little fun? Hell yeah. 
"Ha, please. I'm not a bitch, you're just delusional," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. Delusional? How had that come out of your previous sentence? Clearly noticing the confusion on your face, she spoke again. 
"Did you see that little show that Lando put on this morning? He's a good actor, isn't he? Mind you, it is quite pathetic that you believed it." she said, and you dropped your book down onto the table. 
"You and I both know that that is absolute-" 
"He just uses you, you know that? Ever since you've been 'friends', haven't you noticed that his grades in pretty much everything have gone up? He didn't mean a word of it," she spat, and it was like she had read your mind and brought back up the rest of your insecurities. 
She had triggered them earlier, and now she was doing it again. "Not so mouthy now, are we?" she grinned, clearly satisfied with your facial expression. 
You felt the familiar trepidation of seeing Lando next period coming back to the fore, and all you could muster was a simple, "And this is why nobody likes you."
"Lando seems to," she said after hearing your quip, but you both knew it was bullshit. At least that wasn't true. Or was it? You didn't know what was true in regards to you and Lando anymore. 
Did he really just use you to get his grades up? Was that all this was?
Spanish was over after a little while, but you went straight to your maths classroom so that you wouldn't have to see Lando during break. Your teacher wasn't there, so you just sat in your seat to think about things. 
She walked in after some time, you couldn't say how much time you had been sat there, but there were likely only a few minutes left until break was over.  "Y/N? What's wrong? Did something happen with Lando again?" she asked, seeing the look on your face. 
"Not with Lando. Well, not Lando directly, anyway." you mumbled, and she knelt down in front of your desk. 
"You can tell me," she said. Lando had said the exact same thing to you earlier in the day, but it didn't have the same effect coming from her. 
"It's fine, I've got it covered," you said, and she decided not to press the issue further. It wasn't long before the bell went and people started filtering in. Surprisingly, Lando was one of the first to walk in and came to his seat next to you. 
"Lando, to the back," your teacher said, and he instantly knew something was wrong. 
"Miss, it's fine, really," you reassured her, and Lando briskly took his seat beside you. He could tell the energy around you was off, and he was hell bent on getting to the bottom of it. 
Meanwhile, Lilly's words were storming through your head like a runaway freight train. 'He just uses you'. It had been a fear you had held for a while, albeit one that you had convinced yourself of being irrational.
Surely, there was no way he'd do that, right? There was no way he would hug you, drive you home, walk you to class, spend his free time on projects for you if he was just using you. People weren't overly nice to people they were exploiting. 
Or maybe he was just doing it to butter you up, keep you sweet for him. Keep his grades higher. Maybe he had figured out that his niceties got him favours from you, all of which involved help on his school work. 
Maybe he was what you initially thought he was when you first talked to him on that broken down bus. A character. A special version of Lando Norris, crafted just for you. The edition of him that would get him what he wanted in the most efficient manner. 
Maybe, just maybe, Lilly was right. Lando was the star actor, the leading role, the puppet master. And you were simply the one on the strings, dancing to whatever sick tune he played.  
While you were thinking, Lando let some of the lesson go by until you were set off to work on some questions. "What's wrong?" he asked straight up, turning his body so that he was facing you more. When you didn't answer him, he nudged your leg with his knee under the table. "Come on, I know something's wrong. Is it about earlier?"
'No, I've just come to the conclusion that you might be using me' was what you thought, but you still couldn't deduce whether it was just Lilly and your mind wreaking havoc on you, or if it was the uncovered truth.
"Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours," he said, hoping to get some form of a smile from the compliment. He would take anything at this point. However, you gave him nothing. You kept your eyes trained on your paper, your pen mindlessly scribbling. 
"Was it Lilly?" he asked, and he saw the slight change in your expression. Well at least he knew something about what was going on with you. Even just the mention of it triggered the familiar, hot prickle of tears at the backs of your eyes. 
Lando spotted you welling up, and he knew he'd hit a sore spot. "Hey, no, I'm sorry for pushing, I'll stop, it's OK," he rambled, feeling panicked at the prospect of you crying. He had seen it a few times, and it was a few times too many. 
He also didn't want you to feel embarrassed by crying in the middle of class, especially not because of him. "You're OK, I'm sorry, it's OK," he tried to soothe as you tried to fight the tears back. 
Lando wished he could just hug you like he had before, since that seemed to take the pain away for a little bit. At least then, he wouldn't feel so useless and like he was just sitting by and watching you get upset. 
All he wanted was to hold you in his arms, make sure that no one else could ever hurt you again. But even then, it probably wouldn't be enough. "It's nothing," was all you could muster out, and something in Lando snapped. 
He was so frustrated, he didn't know what to do with himself. He tried to tear his eyes away from you, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to look at your pretty face all day. But, he left you alone, returning to his maths. 
Lando couldn't focus though, and time seemed to move unbelievably slowly while he was waiting for the lesson to end so that he could talk to you in a less public space. The bell had rung after an agonising half an hour, but you were too quick for him to catch as you practically ran out of the classroom. 
He couldn't spot you as you walked through the corridors, since the hoards of people leaving their lessons obstructed his view. Darting out of school, he saw the bus waiting, and he was meant to be catching it, but he didn't care about that right now. 
On the other side of the road, he saw you walking down the pavement with your headphones stuffed in your ears. He had to jog across the road as he was nearly ran over by a van, but that was the least of his worries right now. 
"Y/N!" he called out after you, but you clearly hadn't heard him over your music. That wasn't going to going to deter him, however, as he continued to jog down the pavement and started walking next to you. "Y/N, talk to me," he said, slightly huffing as he finally got to slow down.
"Hm? Oh," you mumbled as you heard him beside you, not knowing what to say. You didn't want to push him away, but you didn't want to be like this anymore. 
"C'mon, tell me, I'm here, there's no one around, it's just you and me," he tried to convince you. Stopping and turning to look a him, he saw the tears welling up in your eyes again, and he still didn't know what to do. 
"You can't just be my friend again, then suddenly stop talking to me and not even tell me why," he ranted, his frustration seeping through his words. 
"Look, I don't think we should be friends, Lando." you said, and he felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. 
What the hell had triggered this? Why were you thinking like this? And why wouldn't you tell him what was going on? He hoped that this was just some spur of the moment thing, that you were just upset and acting on impulses.
God, he couldn't take this again. Not again, he wouldn't let you walk away from him again. He wouldn't lose you again. He had lost you once and it had been the worst few days of his recent memory, and he wasn't going to let you slip away that easily.
"No, no, don't do that. Don't do this to me, don't be stupid," he scoffed, waiting for you to crack a smile and tell him you were kidding and that you were just a bit on edge from something or another. The smile never came. 
"Why? Why the fuck are you coming to this conclusion?" he continued, but the tears just started to silently fall down your cheeks. 
"Me being associated with you just brings us both unwanted stress and upset. Your friends take the piss out of you, everyone seems to take the piss out of me and I can't do it Lando. You're brilliant but I just can't do this anymore," you sobbed, trying to walk away from him. 
"No, no, you can't say that and not tell me what someone said to you," he pressed, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back so that you couldn't walk away from him. "I know it was Lilly, but you've gotta tell me what she said to you."
"She... nothing," you stuttered, and Lando's patience was wearing very damn thin. 
"No, don't try pull that bullshit with me, I will not have it. You're going to give me one good fucking reason right now or I will lose it with you," he said through gritted teeth.
"She said that you don't actually want to be my friend and that you just use me to get better grades and it got me thinking and-"
"And what?" he cut you off, "You really believe a word that slimy bitch says? Sure, you helping me with my work is great, I won't deny that, but I spend time with you for you. And you wanna know why? Because I think you're amazing. You're funny, pretty and a hell of a lot smarter than anyone should be." he carried on, and he realised by your facial expression that he may have said more than he was meant to, but he didn't care at this point.
"You... huh?" you said, the words replaying over in your head.  Was he meant to say that or was he still just trying to keep you attached to him?
"I said I think you're amazing and you're more to me than just a tutor. You're my friend. Dare I say one of my favourites because you never take the piss out of me, you're always nice to me, and being around you makes me happy. And you're too smart to believe a word she says." he reaffirmed.
Your eyes searched his face for any trace of dishonesty, any hint of a lie. Yet, it they found nothing. Not a speck of chicanery in sight. He kept saying all this stuff, and it was supposed to be exactly what you needed to hear. Then why wasn't it?
"Were you and Lilly ever anything?" you asked, the question slipping past your lips before you could even find it in yourself to stop it. You didn't even know why you cared - well, you did. The stallion of jealousy was rearing its ugly head, and there was no way that you could suppress it.
You liked him, you liked him a lot. And, even if he had only had something fleeting with Lilly, it still would have upset you. 
"No." he sharply and quickly answered. "Why the fuck would I ever-" he started, before cutting himself off with a sigh. Getting annoyed at you wasn't the best approach, even if you were making it damn impossible not to. "No. No I never and will never have anything with her." he said. 
"But still, people are still awful to me and to you," you whispered, trying to hold back even more tears. 
"That doesn't matter, not to me. I don't give a shit what people think, I just give a shit about you." he pleaded, hoping and praying that you weren't going to turn around and leave him.
Despite the clear sincerity in his voice, you couldn't bring yourself to believe him. As much as you desperately wanted to believe him, you couldn't. You needed to believe him, but you couldn't. 
The worst part was was that you knew the notion was completely absurd, but you believed it anyway. "Please don't do this..." he whispered, moving his hands to hold you at the top of your arms. God, he didn't want you to go. Not again. 
"I'm sorry, Lando..." you mumbled, shrugging away from his grip and pushing your headphones back into your ears. With every step you took, it felt like another stab to his already broken heart. 
Lando closed his eyes, unable to watch you walk away from him. "I thought you were the smartest person I knew, but it turns out you're the fucking dumbest," he called out after you, his voice cracking on the words. 
It was mean, sure, but he didn't care. What he did care about wa the fact that the only girl he had ever had real feelings for was walking away from him, and there was seemingly nothing he could do to bring you back. Nothing. 
A/N - Already 5k into the next part of this, and I'm sorry, I know it felt like it was just getting better. Alas, we're getting there. And happy birthday Lando! He may piss me off to no end, but damn do I love writing about him 💖
tag list: @cheriladycl01 @ln4swiftie @mariedeyes223 @ironmaiden1313 @daemyraforever56
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 1 day ago
Note
Idk if you do requests, but if you do,
You should write a Slash x Reader smut
Where reader is virgin, and Slash has a corruption kink
Im just gonna leave it at that. 🙏🏼
A/n: trying to get through all my slash requests bc APPARENTLY that’s all I’m good for 🙄 /j I love Slash ☺️
Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink (I hope, I tried 🥹), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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No one thought he could do it, no one had ever imagined that Slash could date someone long enough to get married without sex, yet here he was.
You met between breaks in tour, it was late and he was high and starving. You were working at a pizza place down the road and helped him get back home after he lost his shoe and keys, although he was most heart broken over the loss of his pizza but that didn’t happen until after he ate it.
He was stupid and his state of mind was evidently altered, however, it only meant it was harder for him to hide how pretty he thought you were.
He came back to your place of work later that week, sober this time, and you actually got to talking which led to dating and moving in.
It happened quickly, only a few months between dating and engagement, which no one was surprised by given Slash and his lifestyle. Your family and friends were a bit shocked that you of all people ended up with him, but after seeing the way the guitarist no one could deny it.
Sure, no one questioned it when Slash announced his engagement soon after announcing his new relationship, but there was a reason.
“What the fuck does that mean?” He asked. You were in his bed, curled up against him while he played with your hair. His other hand had been slowly making its way lower and lower and you thought it was the time to tell him the truth.
“It means I’m waiting until marriage.” You explained. He paused for a moment, and he did try to convince you otherwise a few times, although he always stopped if he felt it was pushing you too far or if he thought you might say yes; you made up your mind years ago and he didn’t need that on his conscience, he loved you too much.
On top of that, he loved the idea of being your first, of being the one to take away your innocence. He wanted to marry you and have you forever, you were his and he was yours.
Which led to now, Slash planting kisses up your neck as you sat back against him. “Just relax, sweetheart, and let me know what feels good, alright?” His soft voice flowed into your ears.
You nodded and he got right to work, nipping at your sensitive skin while rubbing your sides, one hand moving down lower between your legs until he was rubbing your clit and slow circles. Your breath caught in your throat, a shiver running up your spine.
You just had to relax and melt into him turning your head to meet his lips, he didn’t pull away as you kissed him and his fingers moved faster.
His other hand moved down, pushing two fingers into you and making you gasp and moan into the kiss. He didn’t want to rush you so he just kept them there, focusing on your clit with the other hand but he could already feel your walls fluttering around his fingers.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl, just relax.” He said, not changing the pace of his fingers. “Just be a good girl and cum on my fingers for me.” Of course you listened, you couldn’t not cum with the praise that he muttered, filling your thoughts of him and his love for you.
He kissed your cheek as you came down from the high. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nodded, eyes feeling heavy as you looked up at him. “This-this is how you feel when I…” You didn’t need to finish, he knew what you were talking about.
He chuckled and shrugged. “Kind of, feels better for you, guarantee it.” He mused.
“Do I not do a good job?” You asked, slight worry in your voice.
Slash was quick to shake his head. “No, nothing like that, no, just, like…” He sighed as he tried to think of a way to word it. “Biology..?” He said, unable to contain his laughter as he said it. “I swear I read somewhere it was better for women than it was for men.” You laughed at his explanation and moved off of his lap, laying down and nuzzling into your pillow.
Slash gave you time to recuperate, the last thing he wanted was to overstimulate you, he’d do that another time but for now he settled for flopping on top of you. “Jesus, you sound like those pig dog toys.”
“Did you just compare me to a pig and a dog toy in a single breath?” You demanded, voice coming out strained as you were being crushed under him. He really wasn’t that heavy and he wasn’t putting all his weight on you but it wasn’t easy breathing either. “And you still expect sex?”
Slash snorted at that, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not expecting shit, I-I’m helping you sleep..?” You were married the night before and spent time travelling and sleeping on the way to your honeymoon, having woken up not long ago and feeling the need to consummate the marriage just as you’d always imagined. To a point, anyway.
He was stupid but it worked and you pushed back into him, moaning as you felt his hard cock against you. He slipped into you, drawing moans out of the both of you. He waited for you to adjust to him, his fingers had helped but it wasn’t the same. No, this was much, much better.
He began moving his hips, his thrusts quickly picking up speed until the room filled with the sound of skin on skin and your loud moans mixed with Slash’s low grunts and groans. “Fuck, listen to yourself, a virgin and already so fucking loud and needy for cock. My cock, sweetheart.”
“Yes! Yours, only yours!” You said, pulling your knees up. You were trying to get on your hands and knees, doggy style, but he put a hand on your back and kept your face mostly shoved into the pillow. Not that you mind, it just put him at that perfect angle where he repeatedly hit that spot that had you seeing stars.
“Oh, that’s a good girl, keep- fuck, keep saying that.” He said, giving your ass a quick smack. He was so pent up, he wasn’t trying to be rough with you but he couldn’t keep himself totally in control, not after all this time.
“Ngh! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Feels so good!” You whined, feeling that same knot from earlier building in your gut. Slash’s thrusts were quickly losing their rhythm as you squeezed him, sucking him in and bringing him closer to the edge as well.
He made sure you came, letting you rolled onto your stomach after he pulled out, hand going to his throbbing member so he could jerk himself off, hot strings of cum spurting onto your stomach before he flopped over beside you and pulled you to his side.
He gathered some of his cum on his fingers and brought them to your mouth, letting you lick them clean. “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly.
“Tired.” You responded after a moment, nuzzling into him.
He chuckled and nodded. “Sleep then, we’ve got the whole month and then the rest of our lives.”
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pipsyy · 16 hours ago
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detestable...
enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader
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hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!
summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.
word count: 3066
You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.
The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.
“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.
You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”
“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.
“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.
“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.
“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.
“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”
“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.
“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.
“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.
“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”
“I know you are,” you said. 
To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”
Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”
“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”
“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”
“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.
“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.
“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.
You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.
“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.
“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.
“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”
“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”
“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.
“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”
You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.
“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.
“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.
“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.
“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.
“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.
Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”
“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.
“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”
You whimper in response.
“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.
“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.
“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips. 
“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.
“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.
“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”
“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.
“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.
“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”
“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”
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jeonsblackgf-writes · 19 hours ago
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When the Tide Turns | Rafe Cameron
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summary: the one where rafe is in love with his bestfriend’s sister
warnings: none i believe
word count: 4,212
——————————————
Rafe Cameron was never one for introspection. He preferred to live in the now, to act without hesitation, to indulge in whatever fleeting desires life offered. That was, until her. He knew it was a bad idea. He’d known it from the very first time he saw her — leaning against the railing of the Cameron family’s porch, laughing at something Kelce had said, her dark skin glowing golden in the afternoon sun. Her eyes, dark and deep like the night sky, shone with a curious mischief. He had caught himself staring, unable to look away, even as his best friend and the rest of the group continued their chatter around him.
"Rafe, you good?" Kelce had asked, snapping Rafe out of his daze.
Rafe had forced a smile, masking the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just thinking about something."
But that was the first time it hit him—he was in trouble.
He had tried to ignore it, told himself it was a phase, a simple crush that would fade. After all, Kelce was his best friend. He had known him for years. The thought of jeopardizing that bond for some fleeting attraction was beyond stupid. But every time he saw her, he couldn’t help it. The flutter in his chest when she looked at him. The way her laughter made everything else in the world fade into the background. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. In fact, he had never really felt this way about anyone. Rafe wasn’t the type to pine. He wasn’t the type to get caught up in anything more than a quick fling or a simple hookup. But with her? It was different. And that scared him.
It was the summer before their senior year of college and the Cameron beach house was filled with the usual chaos. The Outer Banks was at its peak tourist season, and the group of friends was used to spending most of their time down by the water. Rafe and his buddies, , had spent the day surfing and lounging in the sand, while the girls — and of course , Nia — had stayed behind at the house to cool off and relax. Nia was Kelce’s older sister, the one he’d always mentioned in passing but rarely brought around. She was a couple of years older than Rafe and the rest of the gang, which made her seem like this mysterious figure who was always out of reach. But Rafe had always noticed her. He wasn’t blind. She had this effortless elegance, something so unbothered about her presence that it drew people in.
And yet, she never seemed to be the type to crave attention. Her quiet confidence was intoxicating.
Nia had always been a little different from the others. The group would go out, get into trouble, and she’d hang back, listening to music or reading, never making a scene. She was insanely beautiful, almost too beautiful to be true. That was probably part of the reason why Rafe was so drawn to her—she didn’t *need* the attention. She wasn’t one to beg for validation. She simply was. But that afternoon, she was standing by the kitchen counter, wearing a flowy sundress that caught the late afternoon light. Her hair was braided loosely, a few strands framing her face, and she was making something to drink, humming to herself.
Rafe found himself watching her again. The way her fingers curled around the glass, the faint smile on her lips as she adjusted the jug of lemonade—he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was so beautiful, and yet so effortless about it. She wasn’t trying to be, and that made her even more captivating. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Kelce’s voice calling from the door.
"Yo, Rafe! Earth to Cameron!"
Rafe snapped back to reality, turning around with a sheepish grin. "Yeah?"
Kelce raised an eyebrow, following Rafe’s gaze and grinning. "You’ve been staring at my sister for, like, ten minutes, bro. You good?"
Rafe’s heart skipped. The last thing he needed was Kelce noticing, but there was no denying the tension in the air. "I’m fine," he said quickly, his tone more clipped than he intended. "Just... zoning out."
Kelce chuckled, but Rafe could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Just don’t make it weird, man," he teased, stepping inside. "She’s a lot to handle."
Rafe couldn’t help but grin mischievously , though his stomach twisted at the thought of handling Nia. It was a dangerous game to play. A game or two never hurt anybody. Kelce leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She’s way out of your league anyway."
Rafe bristled. "You don’t know that."
Kelce shrugged, his expression growing more serious, knowing his sister. "Trust me, I do."
Rafe wondered what he meant by that.
——————————————
Later that evening, the group gathered around the fire pit. The sun had set, and the sky was painted in hues of purple and orange as the waves crashed in the distance. Everyone was lounging on chairs, drinking beers, telling stories, and joking around, but Rafe couldn’t seem to relax. He kept glancing over at Nia, who sat a little further off, watching the fire with an enigmatic expression. The way she was sitting—her legs crossed, her chin resting in her hand—looked almost too perfect. And then, when she caught him staring again, she didn’t look away. Instead, she smiled.
A slow, knowing smile. She was baiting him. Rafe felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He looked away quickly, trying to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary, but it was too late. The pull between them, that silent acknowledgment, was too strong. He could feel it in the air, thick and suffocating.
"Yo, Rafe, you gonna sit with us, or are you just gonna stare at my sister all night?" Kelce’s voice rang out, loud and unashamed. The entire group laughed, but Rafe’s heart was pounding in his chest. This wasn’t good. He was spiraling, and he had no idea how to stop it. Nia’s voice interrupted the chaos, light and teasing. "Don’t worry, Kelce. Rafe’s probably just thinking about how to ask me out."
Rafe froze. The words hung in the air, as though they had a weight of their own. The fire crackled, the sound of the ocean filling in the silence that followed.
Kelce shot Rafe a look that was half amused, half suspicious. "You’re not really thinking about that, are you?"
Rafe stood up, his pulse racing. "I—"
Before he could say anything more, Nia’s soft laughter rang out, cutting him off. "I’m just messing with you, Rafe."
The tension in his chest didn’t loosen, though. If anything, it only made the moment more awkward, more uncertain.
It wasn’t long after that evening that things between Rafe and Nia started to shift. There was a subtle change in the air whenever they were in the same room. The awkwardness faded, replaced by a comfortable tension that both of them could feel but neither dared to acknowledge. They spent more time together, often alone, without the group around. The first time it happened was when Rafe found himself alone in the kitchen, trying to fix his broken surfboard. Nia appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the doorframe with a cup of coffee in her hands, watching him in that quiet way she did.
"You need help with that?" she asked, voice low but full of humor.
Rafe shook his head, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. "I think I’ve got it, thanks."
She leaned closer, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Are you sure? Because I’m pretty good with tools, among other things."
The way she said it made Rafe’s stomach flip. His mind raced, unsure of whether he was imagining things, or if Nia was actually flirting with him. But before he could respond, she disappeared, her laughter trailing behind her.
—————————
It had been three weeks since Rafe Cameron first realized he was in over his head. Three weeks since the day Nia had arrived at the beach house, laughing at something Kelce had said, with that effortlessly cool vibe of someone who didn’t care about anything but enjoying the moment. From the first moment Rafe saw her, something in him shifted. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but everything felt different now.
But Nia wasn’t the type to make a scene. She was quietly confident, always in the background, like she had nothing to prove. It was that quiet strength that drew him in, but also made him feel like he was chasing something out of his reach. She wasn’t like the other girls he’d been with—more than just a pretty face with a smile that lit up a room. Nia had this presence, this calm, but also a mysterious, guarded aura that Rafe couldn’t shake. And the worst part? She seemed oblivious. At least, that’s what he told himself. Part of him hoped she knew the things he wanted to do to her, the way he thought about her. Kelce would lose it.
Rafe didn’t talk about his feelings. He didn’t have feelings, at least not for anyone who wasn’t a fleeting distraction. But Nia… she made him question everything. Every lingering glance, every laugh that vibrated in his chest, every time she brushed by him so close he could smell the coconut oil in her hair—it was like a spark in the dry kindling of his usual indifference. The fire was building, and he was terrified that it would burn everything to the ground.
---
The tension between Rafe and Nia wasn’t something that could be pinpointed on a single day. It was a slow, gradual thing, like the rising tide inching toward the shore, barely noticeable at first, but inevitable. Every time she smiled at him, Rafe felt that pull—a magnet drawing him in, an invisible thread weaving between them. And every time he caught her looking at him, her gaze lingering just a beat longer than necessary, his heart would skip in a way he’d never felt before. It was during those quiet moments that the tension truly began to take shape. No one else seemed to notice it. Kelce, his boys, and the rest of the group were too wrapped up in their own drama, too carefree to see what was happening. But Rafe couldn’t ignore it.
The first real turning point came one afternoon when Rafe found himself alone with Nia in the kitchen. It had been a long day of surfing, and most of the group had scattered to do their own thing—Kelce had disappeared to the beach to meet some friends, and the others were lounging in the living room. Rafe had made himself a sandwich, but the sound of the blender whirring stopped him in his tracks. Nia was at the counter, her back to him, slicing fruit for a smoothie. The low hum of the blender and the soft rustle of her movements were oddly soothing, and Rafe found himself standing there, watching her. She was wearing a simple tank top with no bra and shorts, her dark skin glowing in the soft light. The way her hands moved, so purposeful and graceful, made him feel like he was witnessing something intimate—something private. Rafe didn’t mean to stare. But he couldn’t help it. There was something about her that pulled him in. His breath hitched once he seen the jewelry around her nipples.
Nia turned, catching his gaze. The air between them thickened. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile. "You need something?" she asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper—something teasing. Rafe cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how awkward he must look. "Just… watching the magic happen," he muttered, his words coming out rougher than he’d intended. Nia’s smile grew wider, and she leaned against the counter, studying him. "You know," she said slowly, "you’ve been acting a little… off lately."
Rafe stiffened. "Off?"
"Yeah. Staring into space, zoning out during conversations. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve got this… look in your eyes." She paused, and the playful edge to her voice softened. "Like you’re thinking about something. Or someone."
Rafe swallowed hard. His heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Had she noticed? Had she known all along?
He forced a chuckle, trying to brush it off. "Nah, just tired. Been surfing all day."
But Nia didn’t look convinced. Her eyes never left him, and there was a knowing quality to her gaze that made his insides twist.
"Okay," she said slowly, dragging out the word. "But you don’t have to act so weird around me, Rafe. I’m not gonna bite."
The way she said it sent a ripple of heat through him. The teasing tone, the way her voice dipped just slightly at the end—was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. Maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But even then, that seed was planted. He couldn't shake the feeling that the tension between them had shifted just a little. Maybe she was picking up on something too. Maybe she was playing with him, testing the waters. But whatever it was, it was undeniably there, and it was dangerous.
————————————-
The days that followed were a blur of stolen moments and heavy silences. There were no direct confessions—no grand gestures, no open acknowledgment of the pull that seemed to grow between them. Instead, it was the little things. The way Nia would brush against him when she passed him in the hallway, always so close, always so deliberate. The way her eyes would meet his across a crowded room, and for just a second, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. She bent over in front of him any chance she got, wearing skirts most of the time so that he could see her different color thongs. Rafe couldn’t seem to stop himself from responding, his body reacting instinctively, always wanting to bridge the distance. He was a guy who’d never been afraid of the chase, but with Nia, it wasn’t about that. It was about something else Something deeper, something that made him feel more vulnerable than he was willing to admit.
He didn’t understand it, and he hated the way it made him feel.
————————————
It was the night of the full moon when it all came to a head. The group had gathered on the beach for a bonfire. The ocean stretched out before them, dark and infinite, the waves crashing against the shore. The air was thick with salt and laughter, the sound of crackling wood filling the space between them. Rafe was drunk. Not enough to lose control, but just enough to feel reckless. The night was fading, the sky darkening above them, and everyone was starting to break off in pairs or small groups. But Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off Nia. She was sitting by the fire, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her face illuminated by the flames as she talked with Kie. It was so easy to let his gaze wander over her—so natural. She had this way of commanding attention without trying. The firelight danced on her skin, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips. Everything about her seemed to draw him in like a moth to a flamee.
It was at that moment, when she glanced over and caught his gaze, that Rafe felt his heart skip. She didn’t look away immediately. In fact, she held his gaze for a beat too long before a sly smile tugged at her lips, and she turned back to Kie. But the damage was done. The pull between them had shifted into something undeniable.
A few moments later, Rafe found himself alone by the edge of the water, trying to cool off. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore—he just needed a break from the intensity of the night. But then he heard her footsteps behind him.
"Nia," he said, turning just as she stopped beside him, close enough that their arms brushed.
"You’ve been acting weird again," she said, her voice low but direct. Rafe let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "You don’t give up, do you?"
She smiled, but there was something different in her eyes now—something more serious. "You think I don’t notice?"
Rafe didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, Nia took a step closer, her body now inches from his. "I’ve been noticing," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper above the crashing waves. "I know what you’ve been thinking."
Rafe’s breath hitched in his throat. His body tensed, every muscle screaming at him to back away, to walk away before things went too far. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.
"You don’t know what I’m thinking," he said, his voice rough.
"I think I do," she replied, her hand brushing lightly against his arm, sending a shock of heat through him. It was the first time she had touched him like that. It was enough to set everything in motion. Rafe turned to face her, his heart hammering in his chest. "And what is that?" he asked, his voice barely more than a growl.
Nia’s eyes flickered down to his lips before locking onto his gaze again. "That you’re trying to resist something that’s already happening."
———————————-
Rafe’s breath hitched in his chest at her words. For a moment, he was frozen, unable to move, his mind racing a million miles a minute. The pull between them felt *too much*—like the tension in the air before a storm, just waiting to break. His pulse hammered in his neck, and he couldn’t look away from her. Nia was so close now that he could feel the warmth of her body, the faint scent of coconut oil on her skin, the sweet, intoxicating fragrance of the summer evening air. She was standing just inches from him, but the distance between them felt like a chasm.
“You’re not wrong,” Rafe muttered before he could stop himself. His words hung in the air like an admission he hadn’t meant to make.
Nia’s lips parted slightly as she processed his response, her gaze never leaving his face. She didn’t smile this time, but her eyes softened. The playful edge that had usually colored her voice was gone, replaced by something more sincere, more searching.
“I didn’t think you’d admit it so easily,” she said quietly, taking a small step closer, her hand now hovering just above his. Her touch was almost electric, just a fraction of an inch from his skin, and it made Rafe’s heart race even faster.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, but the air between them was thick, heavy with something that felt far too real to ignore. Nia was looking at him like she was trying to decipher him—her eyes searching his face, trying to figure out if what he’d just admitted was the truth.
“Why do you keep doing this?” Rafe asked, his voice hoarse, betraying the uncertainty gnawing at him. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
Nia raised an eyebrow, a glint of something almost amused in her eyes. “Like what?”
“Like I’m the only thing that matters in the room.” His voice cracked slightly, and he winced. Damn it. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But it was too late. The words had left his mouth, and now the floodgates were open.
Nia was quiet for a beat, but when she spoke again, her voice was low, almost a whisper, as though she were letting him in on a secret only the two of them shared. “Maybe because you *are* the only thing that matters, Rafe.”
The weight of her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart seemed to stop for a second, before it started pounding faster, a crescendo of emotion building inside of him. He wanted to pull away—he needed to pull away—but his feet felt like they were glued to the sand. It was too late now. The magnetic force between them had already snapped.
Rafe exhaled shakily, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let his guard down. All of the pent-up frustration, the confusion, the desire—it all came crashing down on him at once. He stepped forward, closing the remaining gap between them until there was no space left. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the saltwater on her skin mixed with the faint scent of her perfume.
Nia didn’t pull back. She didn’t run, didn’t hesitate. Instead, she stood her ground, her eyes locked on his, unwavering.
“What are we doing, Nia?” Rafe breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air between them, charged with everything they hadn’t said to each other up until now.
Nia’s lips parted, her breath mingling with his, and for a moment, Rafe thought she might say something, anything that would pull them back from the edge. But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance between them, just a fraction of an inch, and pressed her hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath her fingers. Her touch was soft, delicate even, but it sent a shock of heat through Rafe, and the tension between them became unbearable.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Nia said quietly, her voice barely audible over the crashing of the waves. There was a vulnerability in her words that Rafe hadn’t expected. It was raw, unguarded in a way he hadn’t seen before.
Her hand slid from his chest up to his jaw, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin. He could feel the heat of her touch radiating through him, like a fire igniting inside him, and he couldn’t resist anymore. He stepped forward again, tilting his head slightly, eyes dropping to her lips. Everything else seemed to fall away.
The world around them, the sound of the waves, the crackling fire on the beach—it all blurred into the background. There was only Nia. Only this moment. Before he could second-guess himself, before he could talk himself out of it, Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against hers. It was a soft kiss at first—hesitant, almost tentative, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile tension that had built between them for so long. But the moment their lips met, something inside Rafe snapped. The kiss deepened, slow and languid, as if they had all the time in the world, but neither of them was willing to let go of the moment.
Nia’s hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Rafe responded in kind, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into him until there was no space left between them. The kiss was everything he hadn’t known he was craving—passionate, desperate, but with a tenderness that made his chest ache.
For a moment, it was like the entire world had disappeared. There was only the two of them, tangled together in a kiss that felt like it had been a long time coming. Rafe didn’t know what to do with the feelings swirling inside him. All he knew was that he wanted more. But when they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, the world came crashing back into focus. Nia was looking up at him, her eyes wide and breathless, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss.
Rafe’s heart was still racing, his mind still reeling. “What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion, but with a trace of disbelief.
Nia bit her lip, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I think that was the moment we stopped pretending we weren’t feeling this.”
Rafe’s chest tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her to say that, to make it real. “And now what?”
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his face. “Now? I don’t know, Rafe. But we can’t keep pretending this doesn’t matter.”
He nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and fear flood through him. “You’re right.” His voice was rough, barely a whisper. He could feel the weight of the unspoken words, the ones they both knew they weren’t quite ready to say yet.
Nia’s eyes softened, and she took a step back, but only just. Her fingers lingered on his arm, like she wasn’t ready to let go either.
“We take it one step at a time,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his. “No pressure. Just… us.”
Rafe exhaled, his heart still pounding in his chest, but somehow lighter. “Yeah. One step at a time.”
As they stood there, just a breath apart, the tension between them hadn’t faded. It had only shifted—into something new, something uncharted. Rafe knew that whatever happened next would change everything. But for now, this was enough. This was the start of something neither of them could walk away from, even if they tried.
The waves crashed against the shore, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
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uniquelyuninspired · 2 days ago
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NOTE: I may or may not be absolutely in love with the below Thomfield fanart by @raihyeon, and felt the need to write a short little piece inspired by it. I hope you don't mind!
FANART LINK BELOW, DON'T MISS OUT ON CHECKING IT OUT!
• • • • •
Laying back on her handmade quilt, completely relaxed, face directed up to the calm blue skies, eyes closed; Amanda didn’t think that she had ever felt so joyfully at peace. She inhaled deeply to take in the blooming nature around the expanse of grass between Hellerton House and the lake where she had dragged Max to enjoy a small last-minute makeshift picnic in order to get the artist some sun for once. Of course, it still wasn’t technically getting her away from the campus like Amanda had wished for, but she took her victories where she could, well aware that Max currently had a fairly busy schedule with spring break quickly approaching.
After having – like always – absolutely devoured the food that Amanda had brought her, Max had slipped off to take a couple shots of the newly grown flowers and coloring trees around the area, muttering in amazement about having never expected the campus to be so beautiful in the spring. Amanda had teased her about the fact that she had said the same exact thing about the campus with every season shift, but Max had only offered her one of those heart-fluttering crooked smiles that were far too adorable for Amanda’s health, before sticking her tongue out at her and making her way closer to the water. Amanda had watched her wander around looking for perfect angles on anything that caught her eye, wondering if she ever professionally published her more lively work or if that was a part of her art that she kept to herself.
When the sun had moved out from behind a cloud and shined off the lake water at just the wrong angle, however, Amanda had been forced to look away, and so she had chosen to lay back on the quilt and relax while she gave her girlfriend longer with her camera.
The now incredibly familiar sound of a polaroid camera snapping close-by caught Amanda’s attention, causing her to open her eyes and look in the direction she had heard the sound float over from. This damn girl, she thought as she admired the smile gracing beautiful features, Max too busy easing the polaroid from its slot once ready to notice that Amanda was watching her.
Propping herself up on her forearms, Amanda stretched her legs out in front of her as she smiled up at her girlfriend. “You know, you still owe me that modeling fee.”
Deep-blue eyes lifted from the camera to find dark-brown, and Max lifted her eyebrows as she set her camera and the new pictures down on the quilt beside her bag. Now kneeling beside Amanda, she playfully said, “Oh, really? And here I thought I’d already paid all my dues.”
“Hey, my pockets are no more lined than they were before we started this arrangement,” Amanda teased, nudging Max gently with her knee.
Max moved over her and Amanda immediately made room for the woman between her legs, completely entranced by blue and unable to avert her eyes from Max’s gaze as the younger woman settled down against her. Resting her chin down on Amanda’s chest, Max stared up at her adoringly.
“I thought I was paying by means of other commodities?” Max spoke quietly now, as if she were sharing a secret that no one else could ever know.
If the lowered seductive tone hadn’t been enough to give away exactly what she had meant, the way her hands slid underneath her shirt and up Amanda’s sides, fingernails delicately scratching over skin, definitely erased any doubt. Immediately, Amanda felt the burning in her cheeks that indicated that she was blushing.
Still balancing on her forearms, she lifted her hands just enough to grab hold of Max’s arms. “I don’t recall ever having that conversation. I would never agree to such a thing.”
“It’s too late now,” Max said, sticking her tongue out at her as she pulled her hands from her shirt to instead slide them down her arms until she was playing mindlessly with Amanda’s fingers. “Not my fault you don’t remember. Shoulda signed a contract.”
Bringing one of her hands up to brush the hair back from Max’s eyes before settling against her face, Amanda slid the pad of her thumb over an irresistible bottom-lip. “Perhaps you can show me how this supposedly agreed upon ‘commodity’ is better than money?”
Max’s smile brightened, and she lifted up just enough to bring her lips over Amanda’s, teasing a kiss as she whispered, “I think I could manage that.”
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clemkruckinnie · 2 days ago
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the pogues + their favorite holidays!!
john b’s always been a christmas kinda guy. some of his happiest memories are of him tearing open the wrapping on the few presents big john had been able to save up for, cross-legged under their little tree. is also 1000% the type to put mistletoe everywhere to kiss you (which backfires when jj shoves you out of the way, wanting a smooch of his own).
pope loves halloween! i know he kind of reads as the type to be a scaredy cat, but i feel like he’s a HUGE film buff, so he’ll gladly sit and marathon scary movies with you. he’ll point out how cool the practical effects are, or make fun of the terrible acting, you happily listening as he rambles. and if you’re passing out candy to trick or treaters? oh my GOD. pope is hyping up every kid and their costume, saves up for a month prior to make sure you guys hand out the big candy bars, just generally has the time of his life. he is ADORABLE.
jj’s favorite holiday is the fourth of july, not because he’s particularly patriotic, but because it’s the one day a year where he can set off as many explosives as he wants without having the police called on him. absolutely insists on grilling burgers on a charcoal grill so tiny he can barely do 2 at one time, so by the time he’s done everyone would be significantly hangry had they not blown through all the snacks everyone had brought. finds the perfect place to watch the fireworks days in advance, unable to tear his eyes away from the blinding colors for the duration of the show. it’s beautiful, watching the wonder in his eyes, truly carefree as he marvels at the fireworks.
sarah is a valentine’s girl!! she was 100% the little girl who made everyone in her class a special valentine, not wanting anyone to be excluded or feel less loved! she’s just obsessed with the vibes, too—pink, hearts, lace, etc. if you’re blessed enough to be her valentine? she is going ALL OUT- a little gift bag, a special dinner…certain activities after several glasses of wine during said dinner…..
though it’s less of a traditional holiday, kie’s favorite is earth day! it’s the one day of the year where no one is allowed to roll their eyes at her environmental campaigns. that and it’s the start of taurus season, because kie is 1000% a taurus and i will die on this hill <33 totally the type of gf to plant a tree for you on this day, or get you one of those turtle tracking bracelets (one to match her’s, ofc).
cleo loves thanksgiving! the girl is a natural born chef, so she’ll really jump at any excuse to cook. that, and she doesn’t really have family in the states besides the pogues, so anything to get you all together for a family meal is good in her book. if you show genuine interest in what she’s making, her heart absolutely SOARS because she really pours herself into her cooking. being her unofficial sous chef gets you points too because acts of service mean a lot to her.
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daily-clace · 3 days ago
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“I could tell how much you liked him, and I thought he was using you, that you were just some stupid mundane girl he could impress with his Shadowhunter tricks. First I told myself that you’d never fall for it, and then that even if you did, he’d get tired of you eventually and you’d come back to me. I’m not proud of that, but when you’re desperate, you’ll believe anything, I guess. And then when he turned out to be your brother, it seemed like a last-minute reprieve—and I was glad. I was even glad to see how much he seemed to be suffering, until that night in the Seelie Court when you kissed him. I could see…”
“See what?” Clary said, unable to bear the pause.
“The way he looked at you. I got it then. He was never using you. He loved you, and it was killing him.”
City Of Glass, Cassandra Clare
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korereapers · 2 years ago
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My feel of infinite disbelief when someone who used to tell me i was too much/too dramatic and that it made them angry posted a very tear inducing insta story about her sick leave. I have been on sick leave for months by now. You insisted I should do it and then told me I was overreacting. I didn't post shit about it, but i did post something (respectful and out of genuine grief/wanting to move on) when the friendship ended and i still got angry messages. I'm always overreacting always a crybaby always emotionally manipulative even if NOBODY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE READING ME. And i think. Good fucking riddance. Honestly. Her leaving is the best thing that ever fucking happened to me
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petrowriting · 5 months ago
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the revelation that claudia’s rebirth was such a twisted and horrible moment, with louis dragging her like she was a thing, a stranger who neither of them knew but he kept saying over and over “our daughter, our beautiful little daughter” to lestat, really solidified the way she was never the main character of her own story. she was always an accessory to some or the other of louis’ whims: his guilt, his loneliness, his conflict of being a killer, his rocky relationship with lestat. there was love there, love from both her fathers, but it was never enough. lestat saw her too much as a wretched mirror held up to his own self, and louis was always too steeped in his own feelings to care enough about hers. claudia’s story truly was the greatest tragedy in this tale, treated horribly by every man around her, even her fathers, relentlessly exploited and brutally ignored, always second and never first. the only one who loved her the way she deserved to be loved was madeleine, and the moment she truly had her, her happiness was torn from her. and just before she died, she got to see someone actually choose her in her entirety, not for what she can be but for who she is, and it still wasn’t enough. she still burned alive in the sunlight. the love was there, but it wasn’t enough to save her.
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hella1975 · 1 year ago
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hella I'm out for a friend's bday and I typically don't visit restaurants like it's a whole thing w my friends how UNAWARE I am of shit. Anyways so I ordered a burger that I didn't know would have so fucking much added on it, this thing was HUGGEEEEE I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY THEY DIDNT WARN ME ABT THIS. I was chided by my friends for not requesting a burger with less on it, I DIDNT KNOW. so this burgers huge I don't know how to eat it I'm cutting it into pieces and it's falling apart and there's stuff I'm trying to pick off of it, it is a nightmare on my plate my friends are absolutely making fun of me with how I've just decimated this thing. and um. I wore my nice clothes today I can't lie it was my fit with my patched up jean jacket and pinwheel hat also I've got a mullet and my hair curls so ive been told i could he on stranger things. very silly of me. WELL I GUESS IT GOT ALL THE WAITRESSES ATTENTION. THEY WOULD COME OVER JUST TO SAY THEY REALLY LIKED MY OUTFIT AND IM HERE HUNCHED OVER MY PLATE I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. the waitress who took my plate was so nice abt it but I've suffered greatly today
CANT BELIEVE IM SEEING THIS SO LATE BUT THIS IS SOOOO FUNNY. you got beaten by a burger. do better
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