#i hope this email passes over you like leaves in the fall

[dostoyevsky-official]

this email could've been a wordless locking of eyes across the street

#i hope this email passes over you like leaves in the fall

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Sometimes, I wish I was as important as your email inbox - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Hurt comfort, could be considered angst. Miscommunication(?) established relationship, fem!reader. This was supposed to be pwp... then it turned in to this unholy abomination of hurt comfort because I have daddy issues and can’t fucking do this.

In which, Price has been a bit extra busy with work, and reader feels a bit… alone.

You open the door and step out of the bathroom, tugging your towel tighter around yourself as the steamy warmth from your shower mixes with the relatively cold air of the bedroom.

Price is sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out and phone in hand as he scrolls through the device- likely for something work related. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his eyes flit towards you and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

You hadn’t expected him to be home yet. For the past week, he’d been leaving early and getting back late. Usually, he left early enough that it was still dark outside, and that the only goodbye you’d get was a gentle nudge to wake you up and a kiss on the forehead- followed by a goodbye and a reassurance he’d be back before you knew it. You knew he had to go, it was some week-long training he was helping to administer- but that didn’t help to soothe the loneliness that came with an empty house and waking up to a cold spot where your husband usually lay. 

Most of the time, it was dark again by the time he got back. And he was too exhausted to do much more than shower, collapse into bed next to you, and mumble a few “love you’s” before tugging you against his chest and using you as a body pillow for the night.

Tonight though, he was home earlier than usual.

Not by much- it was still late, and had you been given another thirty minutes, you’d probably have been curled up in bed and- judging by how exhausted you felt- probably completely passed out. And of course- though he may be home earlier than expected… he wasn’t really free. The texts, emails, and paperwork were what most commonly followed him home from work- and it was stupid to be jealous of paperwork or goddamn Gmail. You knew that. You told yourself that constantly. You also constantly reminded yourself that you chose this, you knew what you were getting into with this man. But that didn’t help how starved you’d become for his touch and affection. And it certainly didn't help the nights where you would fall asleep next to your Price, yet feel more alone than ever- because there was something heartbreaking about falling asleep feeling cold, lonely, and unwanted, with the man you loved right next to you- but too busy with what felt like constant work.

Although… As much as you hated those nights, it was still better than when Price would come back with new injuries and guilt weighing heavy on his shoulder.

Today had been a bit of a rough day for you. Tiering, to say the least… especially now, as you realized tonight was shaping up to be one of the ones that hurt the most. And despite the guilt you felt at not even attempting conversation with Price after nearly a week of only goodbyes and goodnights, you really wanted nothing more than to put on your comfiest pajamas and curl up for sleep. 

You missed him dearly, but you were too emotionally and mentally drained to figure out what to do about it. Frankly, this was the only thing your exhausted self could think to do: go to sleep and hope that the rest of this (particularly) dreadful week passes quickly.

As exhausted as you may be… you also know that Price is probably about to stand up to take a shower of his own now that you’re out, and that by the time he’s done, you’ll probably be asleep- so you stifle a yawn and pad over to Price.

Once at Price’s side of the bed, you lean over to press a kiss to his forehead- a hand held over your chest to keep your towel from falling down when you do so. “Goodnight.” You mumble, stumbling a bit when you get a head rush as you try to stand back up.

When you start to sway, Price frowns and reaches out, placing a steadying hand on your upper hip. “You alright’, Love?” He asks, forehead knitted in worry.

You nod, ducking your head a bit and pressing a hand against your temple as you wait for the momentary dizziness to pass. “I’m fine, just stood up too fast.” You murmur, silent for a moment as you take a deep breath and start to straighten up.

From where you stand, you can see that Price’s phone is, in fact, open to his email inbox- and you can’t help the frown that accompanies the pang of dejection that shoots through your chest.

“You sure?” Price asks, his concern seemingly only growing as he speaks. “You look a bit off-color.”

You nod your head “yes”, trying your best to simply put Price’s worries to rest. You do know that you should talk to him, that you should take this opportunity to tell him how you feel, that you should stop this spiral you're in. But… you’re tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired emotionally- You’re just fucking tired, and everything feels like it’s all going shit. 

The hand on your hip moves upwards, and a strong arm wraps around your waist and gently tugs you down. You land with a bit of a bounce onto Price’s lap- his arm around your waist bracing you and keeping you upright as his other one comes up to press the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Bloody hell, you’re burning up.” Price says, the worry lines on his forehead deepening as he quickly drops his phone. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” He asks again, clearly not believing your early assertion of “fine”.

“‘Not sick, just took a hot shower.” You mumble, leaning into his hand where it still rests on your forehead- letting out a deep breath at the touch and letting your heavy eyes drift shut.

Price is clearly unconvinced- looking just as worried as before as he moves one hand to your upper back and the other to the nape of your neck- pulling you close and lifting your hair out of his way so he can check once again for a temperature.

The hand against your forehead must've broken something in you, because from that moment on you feel like a damn had burst. Like all the effort you’d been putting into hiding how bad you’ve needed this is violently swept away and forgotten. Even when you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself against him, you’re not close enough. No matter how much of you is touching him, you need more. No matter how much you press your face into his chest or the crook of his neck, you can still see the lights from the bedside lamp, smell the soap you used in the shower, and hear the neighbor's dog barking at god knows what. And that’s wrong- because all you want in this moment is Price. You want to be held impossibly close to him, you want your everything to be only him, just for a moment.

You don’t hear what he says, but you feel him take you by the shoulders and gently to get you to look up at him.

In response, you only whine and squeeze him tighter, pressing your face deeper into his neck and shaking your head no. 

He gets the hint- a deep sigh leaving his body as you feel him relaxing beneath you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head and you feel two large, warm, calloused hands slip under your thighs and lift- moving you so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Comfortable, Love?” He asks- to which you nod, goosebumps rising along your body as the air from the fan, even on its lowest setting, feels frigid against your still slightly damp skin- your towel from a moment ago having fallen as Price moved you. A hand runs along your arm, warming the skin slightly as you feel Price shift underneath you in preparation to stand up. 

“Do you want me to get you some clothes?” He asks- to which you, again, shake your head in response. This time, side to side as a “no”.

Price chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh traveling between you as he sets a hand on his nightstand, using it to support himself as lifts you two and yanks the covers out from where he had been sitting on them- settling back down and pulling them up to cover the two of you.

The comforter on you two’s bed is big and fluffy- perfect at trapping body heat and warming you up quickly. It’s probably your favorite blanket in the whole house, and you’ve been known to drag it out of the bed and curl up with it on the couch whenever you’re sick or it’s cold enough outside that the heater can’t keep up. Being wrapped in it is enough for you to- gradually- begin to loosen your hold on Price. Eventually, you’re not so much clinging to him as much as you’re simply draped over him.

But even when you release your death grip, Price doesn't try to get you up. He lets you stay, keeping you pressed close against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. He keeps one hand under the blanket, resting on your lower back- occasionally stroking at the soft skin with the pad of his thumb or idly tracing the dips and rises of your body as you drifted in and out of sleep. In his other hand, he held his phone. Likely going through emails or doing something or other work related. 

You drifted between varying levels of sleep and awakeness as he held you. Whenever your head would start to slip from where he’d propped it up against his shoulder, he’d pause from his work to gently set it back and make sure you were doing okay. He’d often press sweet, loving kisses to the top of your head, cheek, or temple, or give gentle, protective squeezes to your waist whenever he felt you stir awake, and he’d speak soothingly and stroke your hair whenever you started mumbling half-asleep words to yourself or him. 

At one point, you started drifting deeper and deeper to sleep- waking up less and having fewer moments of half-awake confusion after being moved or repositioned- only to later wake up flat on your back - now dressed in some pajamas- and with Price slowly pulling away from you.

You jerk awake, gasping for breath as you immediately latch onto the part of Price that’s closest to you- which turns out to be an arm. You immediately find him back at your side, tears running down your face as you beg for him to stay.

You have his right arm in a white-knuckled grip, and his other one is behind your back, holding you up as he looks down at you- the most worried you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shh, you’re okay- I’m right here.” Price says, his look of concern only worsening as you let go of his arm in favor of clinging to his torso.

“D-Don’t go!” You sob, the burst of adrenaline from waking up and thinking he was leaving flushing through your body and leaving you shaky and with a pounding heart.

“I’m not going to leave, Love.” he reassures you, one of his hands petting your head, his beard scratching at your cheek as he holds you close in an attempt to comfort you. “But you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t respond, hiding your face against him.

He pulls away, cupping your cheek gently and making you look at him. “Sweetheart, I’m worried. You wouldn’t talk at all once you got in my lap, and you freaked out when I tried to set you down. I need you to talk to me.”

You pull your face away, going back to hiding against his chest… but eventually nod.

Price is silent for a moment- thinking before he speaks again

“Did someone hurt you?”

A quick shake of your head “no” and a heavy sigh of relief from Price.

“Is it something that happened at work?”

Another shake of your head “no”.

“Is it something that I did?”

You hesitate… 

Your lack of answer tells Price enough, and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head. Had you moved your face from where you were hiding it, you would have seen not only the look of absolute love he was looking down at you with, but the thinly veiled guilt he held as he watched the way you clung to him.

“I figured, love.”

You hiccup, choking on your own tears as you do and starting to cough. Price rubs soothing circles into your back as you try to catch your breath.

“I know, I know. This training thing is hard, and I should've done better at making sure my girl was okay. I’m sorry, love.”

“Y-you don’t have anything to be sorry f-”

Price cuts you off with a stern look. 

“None of that, now. I should’ve made more of an effort to be there for you.” He pauses, kissing you sweetly before continuing. “I love you so, so much, and I’m so sorry I let you forget that and that I let things get to this point, okay?”

“I love you too- “ You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe away some of your tears- only for Price to come in with a tissue and gently start to blot at your red and blotchy face.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you about it…” You mumble, your face heating up as you try to take the tissue from Price to dry your own face, but failing to do anything more than get him to laugh a bit and start teasing you by keeping the tissue away.

“Tomorrow is the last day of the training, I’m going to take the day after off, and we’re going to do something, okay?” He says, laughing softly before letting you have the tissue and kissing you on the cheek.

Price’s hand finds yours, and he laces you two’s fingers together before pulling your still interlocked hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. 

“And I’m not just sorry about this week, I’m sorry about recently in general. I’m going to be better about making sure I make time and showing you how much I care for you, okay?”

You nod, giving one final wipe to your face before you started squirming in his hold in an attempt to sit up a bit more.

“I’m going to be better too- I’m not going to bottle things up… and I’m going to try harder to tell you when I’m feeling like something’s wrong instead of letting it get like this…”

Pride tugs Price’s smile wider, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face- tucking it behind your ear before pressing yet another kiss to your face.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’m glad.”

You smile, feeling like a weight has been lifted after your cry and conversation with Price. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as you possibly can in an attempt to convey how thankful you are. Of his patience, of his kindness, of him.

“I love you,” You say into his chest as you squeeze him

He lets out a soft “oof” at your squeeze, huffing in amusement before wrapping his own arms around you and giving you a (far from full strength) squeeze of his own.

“I love you too.”

#john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price mw2 #john price x f!reader #john price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain johnathan price #john price x female reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #misunderstanding #cod mw fanfiction #john price fanfiction #john price fluff #john price fic #cod modern warfare

[xxnghtclls]

Flickering Lights

Chapter 2: A Tall, Pink Haired Man

Chapter (1/3)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

For tags and synopsis, please see Chapter 1!

Bam!

You slam the door shut behind you. Finally you’re home in your small apartment, still thinking about what happened in your office. Sitting down on one of your two chairs, you absentmindedly tap with your key into the surface of your kitchen table.

Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Who was that?” you mumble to yourself, while your leg is wiggling nervously. “Where and… why? Four eyes and four arms, too?”

A pause.

Tap. Tap.

“HOW?” you blurt out loudly and distort your face in confusion. Your brain is so tired.

Shaking your head, you decide to get up and get a hot shower.

-Monday me- is going to have a huge problem, leaving the office like this.

“This” meaning a broken window, a crack in the floor and the wall. Your computer is for the trashcan, too. A fucking mess.

Motherfucker. 

You kind of hope it was a dream, a hallucination or a lightning. Monday you will get back to your same old habit, going to work and writing emails, lists and calculations. And then Tuesday. And then Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.

Sigh.

Rashhhhh

You close the shower curtain in front of your face and turn on the water. Warm steamy drops are tickling your face and calming your nerves. Sleepiness washes over you with the steamy warmth and you’re quick to finish soaping you up. You let out a big yawn, as you turn off the water and step out. 

“Time for bed.” you sigh, before you brush your teeth and dry yourself. Taking your phone with you, you carry yourself up the ladder to your elevated sleeping space. The perks of living in tokyo.

Mini studio apartments.

Crawling onto the futon, you pull the blanket up to your nose. A last time you peek onto your phone, before your eyes shut themselves.

- 01:38 a.m. -

“Goodnight...” you mumble, before you fall asleep. “Stranger.”

♫ Up with the sun, gone with the wind, she always said I was lazy-

“The fuck?” you breathe into the darkness, still half asleep, as you peek onto your phone, trying not to get blind from your display brightness.

- 6:00 a.m. - 

“Ughhh shut up, Bob.” you groan, as you shut your alarm off. You must have forgotten to adjust the settings in your alarm to workweek only, after you had to get up for an out of schedule meeting last saturday. 

But, today is free.

You close your eyes and think about what you want to do today.

Get new earphones perhaps. Get groceries. Find out who…who…  

Zzzzz…

After a moment, you send another peek to your phone.

- 10:12 a.m. -

“Good morning sunshine.” you grumble to your sleepy self, before you yawn and stretch. “Sorry Bob, now you can sing.” you mumble and put on Bob Seger’s song that ripped you out of sleep earlier. 

-play-

“Travelin maan, love when I caan. Turn loose my hand ‘cause I’m goiingg.” you sing, as you’re making yourself some eggs for breakfast, checking your social media inbetween. You roll your eyes, as you read that there’s some unnecessary discourse over something unimportant AGAIN and you swear to yourself, that you’re going to delete that app sooner or later. It just makes you angry. 

Fucking idiots.

Your eggs are ready and you sit down, take a bite and text your bestie Mio. 

Oy. Akiba in 45 mins?

👍

Good. Need new headphones. Mine broke last night.

No wonder. Get some real ones.

You huff at her text.

“No way.” you smile, as you’re putting your phone away and shove the last bite of eggs into your mouth. You need to get dressed quickly, in order to catch the next train to Akihabara. 

On your trainride, you stare out of the window across from you. Listen to the railway and see the houses passing by, the sun shining onto the roofs, before the train goes underground again. Silhouettes and moving lights run along the window.

Moving lights. Flickering lights.

And suddenly you remember last night. 

What happened?

That creature, that… man. 

How unusual he looked and how his eyes pierced through your soul. 

Uncanny. 

You wonder if you should tell Mio about it. 

Maybe not…

Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination or a lightning after all.

…That rip in space definitely.

But what if he was not?

“Excuse me, is everything alright?” an elderly woman that’s sitting right next to you asks you. 

You must’ve zoned out, looking so concentrated… maybe even, as if you’re constipated or something. 

“No, I’m fine. Sorry- I mean, thank you.” you force a smile at her, before you pull out your phone to look busy at least.

And you start to scroll on your socials. 

And scroll.

And scroll. 

And scroll.

Not thinking anything, just remembering that man’s face. Those tattoos. The nose.

Kinda pretty nose, you think as your lips turn into a pout.

Two slits in his eyebrows.

That mask.

So interesti-

Wait what?

Interesting…?

Sigh.

…He is.

You get out at Suehirocho Station and walk to the next 7-eleven, the point where you’re going to meet with Mio. She’s not there yet, so you decide to walk in and buy an Onigiri. 

Only one? 

No, two. 

For later. 

Of course you open the first one immediately and bite into it. The first bite is always the best.

Goddamn.

You love it. Closing your eyes, to savour the taste, you stand in front of the store, enjoying the bliss.

“Oy, peanut!” Mio’s voice comes up behind you. You turn around and nudge your head to her, shooting her a look. 

“What’s up?” you say with your mouth full.

“Got one for me, too?” she eyes your Onigiri.

“No.” you bite into it another time.  

She cocks her eyebrows at you, probably already knowing that you bought two and that you don’t want to share, before a little pout cracks upon her lips.

“Get your own!” you complain, before she pokes her finger into your arm. 

“I’ll get you some snacks later!” she coos.

“Fine!” complain and offer her a bite of your last piece. 

“Mwuah hah hah!” she laughs deeply in excitement, before she gulps down the whole remaining Onigiri. “I know you love me.”

“Ehhh.” you sigh, letting your shoulders sink, disappointed that she ate it all.

“Sorry.” she brushes off her hands on her jacket. “Anyway, let’s go, my greedy little peanut.” she says, before she hooks her arm into yours. “Did you cut your hair?” 

You laugh her question off, as you both start to walk into the city.

While on the search for new 5000 yen headphones, you both keep bullying each other lovingly, laugh and talk about the week. No matter how exhausting your workweek is, she always manages to distract your mind, makes you feel not as lonely. She really is the light of your week. 

You don’t really know how it came to this. To feel like this in this city of millions. You used to go out, to dance and fuck a guy every now and then. But maybe it was just the start of how you feel now. The nights of clubbing grew rare, the nights at the computer and phone listening to music grew more frequent. Because nothing could really satisfy it. This hole in your heart. Listening to music helps. Spending time with Mio helps, but only to a degree. Because you wish for a change in your life. More than work and eat and shower and sleep. More than everyday life.

However, you decide not to tell her about what happened last night. Maybe you’ve gone crazy after all. Even if you’re not, you still feel odd about it. Feel, like it might be the change you yearned for, an adventure. 

Feel like it only belongs to you.

Quickly you find some new headphones and earn a mocking joke from the side, while Mio continues to buy herself a new phone case. Huge, pink and with little glittery stones and charms.

So ugly.

“Don’t look at me like that, when you’re the one who walked around with a Hello Kitty phone for the longest time!” she complains.

“At least I wasn’t mistaken for a disco ball.” you sneer at her.

You walk to another store to get your promised snacks and after a while, when the hottest gossip is done being discussed, you catch yourself getting silent inbetween.

Because your mind wanders off.

Because you remember.

Those eyes.

Dangerous.

Sometimes she notices and throws you a glance, but you just wave it off, excuse it with sleepless nights because of work. 

And she buys it.

At least you hope she does.

“I need to get home.“ you sigh, as you arrive at the next train-station. “I still need to get some groceries. I’m gonna gonna see you next week?”

She sighs too and stops in her tracks. You turn and look to her, seeing her face turning serious. Suddenly the energy shifts. You halt and frown at her in confusion.

Something’s wrong.

“What?” you ask. 

“I need to tell you something.” she looks to the ground and it makes you worried.

“What is it?” you poke her shoulder. 

She hesitates.

“You’re gonna hate it…” she mumbles and your heart starts pounding. You hate situations like this. Last time she acted like this, she told you she lost the one pair of very expensive headphones you bought in your life. You hated her for it, but you learned your lesson. 

Crossing your arms, you keep staring at her, almost holding your breath, trying to remember what kind of item you possibly could’ve lent her recently.

A pause.

“I’ll be on a work trip.-”

“Jesus.” you complain, as you exhale loudly in relief, rolling your eyes.

“For the next week.” she continues, a smug smirk on her face. So proud, knowing to have you fooled so good. “Coming back on Sunday night.”

You sigh.

“I’ll manage!” you exclaim snobbish into her face, but deep down, you know it’s gonna be hard. You’re not gonna see her for two weeks and you’re gonna miss her. A lot. Next to the fact that you can’t meet up with her next weekend, she’ll be busy too and not be able to text you much during the week either.

She punches your shoulder, before you grab her sleeve.

“Come.” you tug on it. “We gotta wish you a safe travel and return.” you mumble, as you drag her with you.

“Huh?” she exclaims, but gives up and willingly walks down to the underground with you. 

“I didn’t go to the Meiji shrine in a while. Let’s hang up an Ema there.” you fiddle with her sleeve, as you’re both sitting next to each other in the train towards Yoyogi Station.

“Is everything alright?” she asks and you notice real concern in her voice. 

She knows something’s up.

“I think I need to go out more, Mio.” you mumble. “If you’re not here to cheer me up, I need to see someone else then.”

“Sounds as if you’re already have someone in mind.” she jokes and you feel the heat rising in your ears, feel caught.

“Yeah.” you fake-laugh, before you try to change the topic. “Where are you going next week?”

“We’re going to have some meetings in Gifu. But also team-building events, this sort of stuff.” she says, while fiddling with her new phone case and you nod.

“Never went there.” you respond. “Tell me if it’s nice, yes?” 

“Sure, little peanut.” she smiles, before she looks back at you. You smile back before, looking around in the wagon.

“Maybe you should go out while I’m gone.” she says, making you look back at her. “Try to focus less on work and have some fun. Treat yourself.” she punches you in your arm again. 

Hard.

“Ow!”

“It’s just work after all.”

“I shall.” you hiss, while you rub your hand over the soon-to-be bruise, as the train stops at Harajuku-Station.

After a short walk, Mio and you arrive at the entrance of the shrine. It’s busy, just like the last time you visited, but as soon as you walk through the Torii, it grows calmer with each second. You might not believe, that in you’re a city of millions, when you walk through the beautiful area around the shrine. Trees and plants seal yourself off the loud noises of the streets. 

Quiet.

Maybe I need a vacation.

“I’m thirsty.” Mio longingly says, as you walk past the huge Sake barrels. 

You snort at her comment.

“Mio Mio Mioooo.” you squeak like a bird. “You called me greedy.”

“That’s what you are.” she chimes. “I know you still have that second Onigiri in your jacket.”

“Shut your mouth.” you smile, while you look up to see the sunlight shine through the branches of the trees, as a gentle breeze flows against your faces. It’s beautiful at this place, but somehow, a weird feeling grows in your gut. 

After a ten minute walk along the shrines nature, you arrive at the camphor trees where the Emas are hanged upon. Mio steps forward, reading some of the wishes that are already hung up. After purchasing a little wooden plate yourself, you tipple to the desks and start writing. 

For my lovely Mio. 

Please let her have the safest travel, a lot of fun and a more safer return to her little peanut.

You draw a little raccoon in the corner, since that’s her favourite animal and turn around, ready to hang it up, only to notice, that Mio holds a little wooden plate in her own hand as well.

“No! I already got one!” you wiggle it into her direction, before you hang it up. 

She steps into the corner of your eyes, hanging her own plate right next to yours. You’re about to complain that she bought an unnecessary one, as your eyes catch what she wrote.

For my lovely y/n.

Please let her have the most fun, good food and a little adventure, until her Mio returns.

“Is this for me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Bro, it’s your name right there!” she sneers as if you’re stupid, tapping her knuckle loudly against the plate.

Your heart warms up, before you continue in a serious voice.

“You forgot to draw a cat.” 

“I cannot draw a cat.”

“Bullshit. Everyone can draw a cat.” you wave her off and turn around, only to see-

Oh shit.

You freeze in your spot, as you see that tall man from last night standing in front of the holy praying area of the shrine. His back is turned to you, but his height, his black cloak and the pink spiky hair is proof enough.

A sinister energy reaches your feet and crawls up your legs.

“What’s up?” Mio asks, as she notices how you froze in your spot, tugging at your sleeve.

Your heart starts pounding. 

Badum. Badum. Badum.

In the corner of your eyes, you see Mio catching focus on that man herself.

“I’ve never seen a guy that tall-“

“Me neither.” you mumble, while you keep staring. In the corners of your eye, you see many people walking around the mean, peeking and staring and mumbling about his unusual appearance.

He walks up the stairs, shoving a middle aged woman out of his way. She tipples, looses balance and-

Bam!

falls down the stairs, while he’s stepping closer to the doors that lead to the praying area. The huge doors, that now don’t seem to tall in comparison anymore.

“Disrespectful asshole!” Mio exclaims in disgust, as an appalled gasp is heard from the by-standing people and the feeling in your gut grows into a huge lump. Others rush to the woman to help her back up, and Mio wants to go forward too, but you grab her sleeve, holding her back. You stay silent, as you keep watching the man intensely, seeing him lay his right hand on the wooden surface of the saisen-bako that’s placed inbetween the doors. People start to talk to him, try to get his attention, but he is ignoring them, concentrated on doing what he came to do. 

Your eyes are fixated on his hand, a tattooed black ring decorating his wrist. The people around him grow louder and louder, but the sound grows mute in your ears. Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you watch how the wooden surface starts to vibrate, the lines between his hand and the wood start to blur. A deep humming starts to vibrate in your ear, just like last night.

Mio notices your trance and calls you, but you hear without hearing. 

Whatever he’s doing, it has you in his grip.

Mio calls you again, louder and snips her fingers in front of your face to wake you from your trance but you keep being fixated on his hand until-

“Hey!” another man loudly exclaims and tugs on his cloak to get his attention. Without even looking, the pink haired man flicks his left hand and suddenly the throat of the other man bursts with blood and his head falls from his shoulders.

Fwip! 

Pap.. Pap… pap.

Down the stairs it falls and rolls. Your heart drops and everyone starts to scream, as your eyes widen in horror. Blood splatters everywhere, as the head rolls and comes to a halt next to the woman, coating the holy grounds with red essence.

“Y/N!!” Mio calls your name again, now very loud and clear, making your body finally start moving.

You meet Mio’s eyes and grab her wrist, before you run towards the entrance, already seeing security guards run into the opposite direction. Other people run in panic as well, shoving you out of their way, almost make you stumble. For some reason, shortly before you can run through the huge gate, you need to turn around.

Turn around.

The time slows down.

Exhale.

You look.

Focus.

And he turns around, too. Making your eyes meet his for the split of a second, before you turn back forward again, running through the gate.

Inhale.

Sirens are already howling in the distance, as Mio and you and many other people run through the shrine grounds in order to get back to the entrance you came from. Your heart is pounding in your throat and your throat is as dry as sand, as you finally reach the streets. A glance to Mio and a nod from her confirm that you will not separate your ways right now. She’ll come with you.

Bam!

Zschk Zing!

You lock your front door behind you, as Mio sighs loudly, slumping down on one of your kitchen chairs.

“Jesus.” you sigh under your breath, your hands still lingering on the door-lock, your eyes staring into nothing. The image of that mans head rolling down those stairs keeps replaying in your head. 

“Gonna make tea.” Mio says, before she gets up and fills the cattle.

You blink and shake your head, before you turn around and sit down on the other chair on the adjacent corner of the table. 

You have seen some bad stuff on the internet before. Multiple times unfortunately. However it’s still different to see such things in real life.

“The police will get him right?” she asks. 

“Maybe they shot him on sight.” you mumble. “Most probably.” you try to assure her and yourself.

She hums and the kettle starts to whistle.

Louder and louder.

Louder and louder.

Until Mio takes it from the stove and fills your cups with water.

You take a sip and the warmth flows through your body, making you feel better in an instant. 

“I still got no groceries.” you mumble into your cup.

“Let’s just wait a bit. It’ll be safe in a few hours.” she mumbles into hers.

A pause.

And you ponder.

“He wouldn’t have slashed that man, if he let him do his thing in peace.” you sip absentmindedly. “Whatever he was doing.” you add and she glances over to you, cocking an eyebrow.

“If he didn’t shove that woman down the stairs, he wouldn’t have been bothered.” she responds annoyed. “Nothing he was doing can justify this.”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Doesn’t matter now, they probably shot him.” she sighs. 

Your eyebrows twitch at the thought. Somehow, you don’t feel like it’s true.

A few silent hours go by, sipping tea, trying to calm down. Both of you avoid to read the news, try to distract you from what just happened, talk about anything, except about what happened at the shrine today.

And somehow, it works. They probably shot him after all.

The sun sets and it grows dark outside. Mio taps on her phone.

- 10:13 p.m. - 

“I think I should go now.” she sighs. “Gotta get up early tomorrow.” 

You inhale deeply, knowing it’s the last time you’re gonna see her for at least two weeks.

“Alright.” you exhale, as you stand up and walk her to your door. “Text me when you’re at the station, k?” 

“Sure, peanut. The police is probably still roaming around. And if not they got him.” she smiles at you and leans in for a tight hug. “Gonna miss you.” she whispers in your ear and it almost makes you tear up.

What today happened was a lot for you and now you have to deal with it alone, if the distraction looses its effect. For two whole weeks.

“Gonna miss you, too!” you sniff into her ear and press her against you, before you separate.

“Stop crying, bitch.” she jokes and boops your nose. 

You stick out your tongue and with wet eyes, you unlock your front door. 

“Here you go, your Majesty. Please return safely.” you bow, trying to overact your upcoming crying-session and it makes her giggle. 

“It’ll be fine.” she waves you off and walks down the hallway. “I’m a big girl.”

“Text me!” you yell after her, before you close and lock up the door.

Zschk Zing!

Silence.

Too silent.

You grab your back and pull out the new headphones you bought. In all the hectic you forgot to properly charge them, but luckily, they always are charged halfway up when you buy them. 

You sit down on your kitchen chair and go to your phone’s settings, to connect it via bluetooth with your headphones. 

It worked.

You put them on and scroll through your music library, not sure what will give you the right mood for now. If you want more distraction or if you want to cry. Already feeling an empty feeling spreading in your heart, you scroll and scroll and your eyes keep watering.

Maybe crying it is. 

Mio didn’t text yet and you hope she’s about to arrive safely at the station. It’s just a short walk anyway. You keep scrolling. Being a person who listens to almost everything, it’s difficult to choose sometimes. Closing your eyes, you tap on shuffle, letting fate decide what song to play.

But right in the moment, when the song is about to start, a loud knocking is heard on your door.

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock.

You quickly look to the door.

Mio? 

Maybe she forgot something.

Without turning off the music, you put your headphones on the table and tipple to the front door.

“Mio, is that you?” you call.

No answer.

You frown in suspicion, before looking through the peephole. 

And your heart drops into your socks, as you see a deformed fish-eye version of a stranger.

A tall, pink haired man.

#flickering lights #flickering lights chapters #sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #fanfiction

[izvmimi]

cw: fem!reader. minors dni. part of enemies to lovers au. reader is leads spokesperson for and president of an organization that calls for hero society reform. a/n: i'll probably be releasing a few parts to this and this is actually a follow-up with permission to an idea work-shopped with a lovely friend. first part here.

Your first night together doesn’t end up being hasty, heated and heavy in the stall of an overly luxurious convention center bathroom, but in a similarly over-the-top hotel room, the type that swears it’s not a love hotel but doesn’t separate the shower and the bedroom and has too many towels, and even more places to rest your body when you fuck nasty for hours. 

And Deku takes complete advantage of that. By the time the night is over and you’ve regained your senses, your core and everything below feels like jelly and your heart pounds in your chest, but over time, growing up with the unforgiving camera and the sting of negative online opinion, your poker face is immaculate. You’d hoped that Izuku was the type to fuck and fall asleep immediately, but he’s still awake, staring at the ceiling with a smug smile on his face, and you feel as though you should gloat somehow, just to knock him down a peg, but you know your voice will come out raspy and breathless.

He’s doing something with his hands, and you’re not sure what. Fidgeting. This is the time that either of you should leave the bed and go get a smoke, but neither of you smoke, and neither of you really want to leave this bed. You turn and pretend there’s something important for you to check on your phone; when you shift, you see that he’s rested on his side now, watching you with an amused expression on his face, waiting for you to speak, his head propped up by his elbow. The way his skin glows with a thin layer of sweat, and soft red underlies the smattering of freckles on his face, makes your stomach turn again. You see too much of him for the first time tonight, all broad muscles and scars and smiles, careful, gentle hands and wanting mouth. You know that you hate him, hate everything he represents, but it’s hard to quantify that when you’re still damp between the legs.

You have to regain power somehow, you tell yourself. 

“What are you looking at?” you ask. Immature and snarky, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t matter. He smiles. 

“You.”

You scoff but his grin is steadfast. It annoys you. You look at your phone again as if someone could have possibly sent a pressing email at 3 am in the morning. He’s still watching you carefully and you feel analyzed from your toes to your nose.

“You’re not the best I’ve ever had, but I have to give it to you, the pro hero body is at least good for something.” You reply.

He blinks, and you hope he takes offense, but instead an arm pulls you closer. He breathes deep and part of his exhale tickles your face. Your body tenses and you suppress a whimper.

“I still have time.”

Your head spins for a moment but you think quickly. Pulling back just a slight bit - he lets you, easily - you steel yourself again. Perhaps you should leave, even if it’s late, although there’s nothing you want more than to be rendered breathless again. 

“I think that’s enough,” you reply. Your pulse stabilizes, and you resume your mask of stubborness. “Momentary lapse of judgment, not saying I regret it though.”

With that you make your way out of bed, suppressing the urge to wrap your body in blankets so he can’t ogle you anymore, trying not to look at his perfect body bare and lose the resolve to walk confidently out of the front door. 

He sits up, crossing his legs and arms over his chest. A quiet moment passes as your footsteps pad towards the bathroom sink. The water turns on, and then he speaks again.

“You sprayed perfume on your ankles.”

You turn, confused, spotting him again, his gaze dark from your vantage point. He runs his hands through tousled curls and you remember why so many horny netizens bomb your social media, any time you mention the Symbol of Peace in an interview.

“Your point?”

“Your lingerie is expensive and the set matches,” he adds, eyeing remnants of lace strewn on the ground. You follow his gaze, your cheeks burning. 

“Maybe I enjoy the finer things in life?” you reply, lower lip wobbling and you bite your lip quickly, embarrassed. His eyes narrow and his lips curl into a smile. Devilish, unlike anything you’ve seen on television before. Before he says the next thing, you can tell he’s already pinned you again in this quick battle of words.

“Like me.”

Checkmate.

You can’t think quickly enough, instead retreating to turn on the shower, hoping it’s as loud as possible. Drowning him out, drowning yourself out, drowning this moment out of existence.

It won’t happen again.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

[romansdoll]

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

Delusional 1

⟡ 1.3k / 18+ some smut

⟡ charlie walker x reader

⟡ crashing over your interaction with kirby about charlie, someone is there to remind you they are always watching.

You hated Kirby. You weren't entirely sure why though. She wasn't an evil person nor did she make you as mad as lets say, Trevor did or the girls in pre calc did. No. She made you upset for a whole other reason. Charlie, your Charlie, was enthralled with her. By her. She was probably some kind of witch that casted a spell on him, because the way he stares at her during the Woodsboro Cinema Club meetings, it has your blood boiling.

To be fair, you didn't know Jill all that well. Your mothers only growing up together. Yours cutting the Roberts off as a whole after Sidney’s mother died. It was too much of a mess for your family to be connected to. But when Sidney moved back to Woodsboro, and bodies started dropping like flies, Kirby had latched herself onto Charlie. Interested in who could be ghostface this time, they basically flirted in front of you. Something that made you absolutely sick to your stomach to watch.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you barely notice Robbie slid down in the seat next to you, rows back from where Charlie and Kirby were entertaining the club members with their banter.

“If it makes you feel better sweet girl, I don't think Kirby likes him… um like that.” he says gently. Sweet girl being a nickname Charlie coined after you cleaned alcohol off Robbie last year at Trevor’s party.

“Yeah but he likes her that way.” you pout.

Robbie scoots closer to you, “Then he’s missing out.”

Kirby smirks at Charlie, and you all about lose your shit.

“I think the killer is someone close to us.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Charlie and Kirby look at you in sync. Your cheeks flush and you can't find the words anymore.

“I think it’s uh, probable.” Robbie rushes to defend you, “The attacks are personal, and we all know they fall in line with Sidney’s return.”

“I don't think it's someone who knows us.” Kirby basically challenges.

“Why not?” you frown.

“Because it wouldn't make sense. It has to be someone-”

“Wasn't your friend Olivia gutted?”

The room falls silent.

“Okay well I think that wraps up today's meeting. Remember guys the stabathon is currently in the works and emails will get sent out.” Charlie cuts in, cutting the awkward silence. “If anyone has questions you know where to find Robbie or me.”

“You didn't have to go so far.” Robbie whispers.

You know that. That sucked. Badly.

Kirby’s nasty stare blurs everything for you, and you try to decide your next move as everyone shuffled to leave around you. Charlie nods at you as he passes and you watch, fully turning your head to do so, as he leaves out the door with Robbie in tow.

“Is that what this is about?” Kirby’s voice startles you, reminding you someone is there with you.

Fuck.

“What?” you say.

“You want to what? Fuck Charlie? That’s why you're such a bitch to me?” she crosses her arms.

“I don't care about you.”

“No shit dumbfuck.”

“It’s nothing personal.” you lie. Obviously.

“Please don’t lie to me. I see the way you look at him. How you watch him. Then how you look at me. You hate me. Because of him.” Kirby isn’t wrong. You do hate her. You're sure you love him.

“You don't even like him!” you rise out of your seat, raising your voice so slightly. “You play games with him, I watch you do it!”

“He’s my friend you delusional Idiot!” she shouts back.

“I hope you die next.” and with that you gather your bag and rush out before she cant react to your words.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Your parents are usually never home. One is a lawyer and the other is some city council person. You actually don’t know. You don't pay attention, just take the allowance and live in your own world. Which brings you to your current situation; lying on your bed with music blasting while attempting to do your homework.

You don't usually answer unmarked calls. It’s not quite like you. But when the no caller ID phone pops up, you feel inclined to answer, and so you do.

“Helllooooo.” you draw out. It’s either this or hard calculus you really don’t understand and Robbie isn’t answering your texts.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“____. Who’s this? You called me.”

“I’m surprised you picked up.” the voice, deep and a little alluring if you were being honest, spoke.

“Why? It's not like homework is any more fun than taking a stranger's call.”

“Well,” the voice says, “there's a serial killer going around town murdering people rather, viciously.”

“I know. It’s pretty awful. Everyone is so scared and on edge. I hate it.” you admit. You roll over onto your back, and begin twirling your hair.

“Are you on edge?” the voice asks, feigning concern.

“I don't know. Part of me is scared but, part of me isn't involved in so it isn't my business.”

“You aren't involved?”

“No.” you giggle and sit up. “My family cut that family off years ago. I barely know Jill and her friends.”

“Just that one girl that got...” the voice says, “What was the word you used? Gutted?”

Your stomach dropped.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“I said, gutted. Isn't that the word you used?”

“Who is this? This isn't funny Kirby.”

“Who's Kirby?” the voice genuinely sounds confused at the name.

“I’m not an idiot you know. Sorry I told you to basically drop dead, but this isn't funny. You're crossing a line.” you stand up, pacing back and forth now.

“You seem anxious.” the voice says. “Why else are you pacing so hard.”

You stop.

“Are you… watching me?” you glance around, one window open.

“I might be. You're a very pretty girl to watch. Especially with a hand down your pants moaning… what's his name again? Charlie’s?”

“Shut up.” you demand. You grip your phone and go to close the window.

“Oh. Have I struck a nerve? Are you no longer in love with him? Moved on so quickly have we?” the voice lets out a laugh and you want to vomit.

“Do you…” you start to shake. “See everything?”

“Yes. When your back arches because your fingers hit that sweet spot, or when you pant so hard I can only imagine how you’d sound being played with by someone.” the voice sounds almost seductive now.

“I’m hanging up now!-”

“You fucking hang up and I’ll gut Charlie like a fucking pig!” he shouts and you yelp.

“No please! No don’t do that!”

“Hard to masterbate to a corpse.” it threatens.

You're in tears now. Full blown tears, and you’re shaking so badly you allow yourself to collapse into a sitting position on the floor.

There's some silence for a little while.

“What do you want?” you ask in a small voice.

“To hear those moans again. I’ve been missing out. Give me a taste.” it replies.

“And you won't hurt Charlie? Right? Promise?” you’re willing to do anything if it means Charlie still breathes. You love him.

“Touch yourself. Over your panties. Now. I’ll think it over.” he demands.

You nod, not that you think they can see, and push your skirt down to your knees and begin rubbing through the cloth.

“Tell me how it feels.” the voice says, breathy.

“Good… feels good. It feels so good.” you mean it. You’re pretty sensitive down there.

“I bet. Slip a finger in.”

And you do that. And it feels good. You’re wet, wet enough that drops are running down your hand. You're a whimpering mess, bucking your hips and essentially riding your fingers.

The voice isn't saying anything, but you don't care. It feels so good. You keep moaning and at this point, drooling on your shirt practically and soaking the rug below you with your wetness.

“Charlie oh please Charlie faster!” you beg no one, you’re orgasm so so close. “Charlie, I need you, please!”

Your orgasm hits you pretty hard, and you finger faster until you’re left a breathing mess. You collapse against your bed and notice that your phone is no longer on call, not realizing that the voice had hung up.

#ghostface x reader #charlie walker x reader #rory culkin #YAHHHH #probs only like 4 chapters but heyy #slasher x reader #ghostface #charlie walker #rory culkin x reader

[illiterateaffairs]

behind the scenes chapter three | friends with professional benefits

masterlist | prev | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 3,410

summary: you and jamie get to know each other. let the games begin.

a/n: this is coming out later than i had planned but i hope it was worth the wait! going to be less busy this coming weekend so hope to share more soon and get a lot of chapters in the queue for you all <3

Five days. It had been five days since you and Jamie agreed on your plan to fake date in front of the entire world. And although you didn’t regret the idea - yet - you’d still had enough time to overthink and suddenly become very nervous about things going wrong. 

You hadn’t seen Jamie since your conversation in the café, but you had various text exchanges throughout the week. At some point Jamie had asked you what your contact name was for him.

what do you mean? it's your name. jamie.

just jamie?

what else would it be?

you’ve gotta add emojis luv if someone sees your phone it's gotta look like i’m ur boyfriend. mine says ur name with like 5 hearts

That’s when you realized you needed to be more thorough than you thought. 

Which is precisely why Jamie was coming over to your flat today. Sure you’d known you needed to get together sooner or later to talk through the plan as a whole, but today you were armed with a checklist of things to cover. 

You’d also talked things over with Margot earlier in the week. And Harry. But that conversation had been a lot more cut and dry. He was over the moon you were doing this, and sent you an email with own list of requirements. It basically started and ended with: be a couple in PUBLIC. 

With Margot, she’d repeatedly asked if you were sure about the whole thing. You’d told her over and over again that, yes, you had never been more sure of anything in your life. Though by the fourth reassurance, you weren’t sure how convincing you sounded. 

Either way, you were committed to this and dammit if you weren’t going to see this through. This was just another role you had to play. It’s what you did best.

From your spot on your coach, you nearly fall off of it when there’s a knock on your door. 

Jamie.

Its go time. 

You put your laptop down on the coffee table and jog over to the front door. Pulling it open, you’re actually surprised to see Jamie standing on your doorstep holding a bouquet of flowers. 

You squint, “Are those for me?”

Jamie scoffs, “No, they’re for your elderly neighbor I just passed. I’m hoping you can introduce me.” You roll your eyes but give him a smile, “Of course they’re for you. We have to make this look convincing right?”

“Jamie, there’s nobody else here.”

“Okay, but what about paparazzi? One could be lurking about and catching me visiting your flat would be the perfect kickstart to this whole thing.”

You chuckle, “I doubt there’s any photographers around here.” Still you look around behind him, and after seeing no one, you pull him into your apartment and shut the door.

“Still, you know Google Earth. Always taking pics,” Jamie jokes, laughing to himself as he steps further into your living room.

You stop in your place before you follow him, “Did you just quote Parks and Rec?”

Jamie spins around, “You understood that reference?” 

You laugh in disbelief, “Of course. It's one of my favorite shows.”

“Same,” he smiles, “Used to watch it with my Mum all the time in high school.”

“I love that,” you smile back, closing the gap between the two of you so you can take the flowers from his hands, “These are pretty by the way. Let me go put them in a vase but feel free to make yourself at home.”

You’re quick to fill up a vase in your kitchen, leaving the flowers on the counter, but are surprised to return to Jamie still standing in the middle of your living room, looking around.

“This place doesn’t seem very you,” he comments as you return, plopping down on the couch.

“How would you know? You just met me,” you ask teasingly.

“Well, that’s the point of today isn’t it,” Jamie teases back, joining you on the couch, “Still, it seems very posh and you seem a lot more chill.”

You nod, “Well, I’m just renting this place while I’m here so not much of it is mine. I’m thinking about decorating it a bit to make it more homey.”

“Well if you need any recommendations for places to look, I know some stores that have cool shit.”

“I may have to take you up on that.”

You lean forward and grab your laptop again. You glance over the excel sheet you had open and try to figure out where to start.

“What you lookin’ at over there?” Jamie asks curiously, trying to peak over.

“I want a way to keep track of all the things we need to figure out like our cover story and just things we need to know about each other,” You explain, turning your computer towards him.

His eyes widen at the very detailed and colored coded document you had laid out. “Wow, that’s…intense.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, I may be a creative but I am very Type A. I also don’t want to fuck this up so I think it would nice to have a place to keep track of everything. I can email this to you if you want? Or ooh! I can upload it to Google Drive so we can both edit it.”

Jamie shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his face, “Sure. Where should we start, Boss?”

“Well, I feel like the most obvious thing we need to cover is how did we meet? How did we get together?”

Jamie’s thoughtful for a second before shrugging, “I feel like we could use how we actually met, you know? It’s realistic because it's actually real. And keeps it simple. We ran into each other and got coffee, or hot chocolate, as some may prefer.”

“Nice, you remember my preferred beverage,” you smile as you start typing in the doc, “Who asked who out? Did we do it that day?”

“You asked to exchange numbers, but I reached out a couple days later. Maybe we went on our first date last weekend?”

You nod thoughtfully, “That works.”

“It would’ve had to have been Friday, though,” he adds, “I had a match Saturday afternoon and told Keeley about seeing someone that night.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I filmed late on Friday night.”

Jamie shrugs, “I could’ve waited up for you. Got drinks at a bar?”

Your lips quirk up at the thoughtfulness - even though it was made up.

“Okay,” you continue filling out your spreadsheet, “I have a list of things that one might normally know about a significant other, but since our “relationship” is so new, I think we only need to cover what you would on a first date.”

Jamie’s eyebrows furrow, “Like…what?”

You glance up at him, “What? Jamie Tartt’s never been on a date before?”

He laughs awkwardly, “I’ve obviously been on dates. But we didn’t really do a lot of talking.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh lovely. Alrighty, then, let's just focus on what normal people do the first time they’re getting to know someone.”

“Fine,” Jamie sighs, “Hit me.”

“What’s your…favorite color?”

“Seriously?”

“What?” you laugh, “It's a completely normal question.”

“Yeah, for five year-olds,” he frowns, crossing his arms.

“Come on, you’re seriously going to sit here and tell me you don’t have a favorite color?”

“I dunno,” he shakes his head looking around, “Maybe, blue?”

“Blue? Come on, that’s such a boy answer,” you mock.

“Well, I am a boy if you haven’t noticed,” Jamie throws back defensively, “Its my favorite color your asking, is it not?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, amused by how seriously he’s taking this, “It is. Why blue then?”

He shrugs, “Dunno. It’s one of Richmond’s colors. Was a Man City color, which is the team I used to play for and my hometown team. I remember my mum wearing it a lot growing up.”

A genuine smile starts to form on your face as you listen to him ramble. It was the second time he’d brought up his mom. “Are you and your mom really close?”

He turns to you, a little taken back, “You ask about parents on a first date?”

You shrug one shoulder, “If it's going well.”

Jamie has to turn back away from you so he doesn’t do something stupid like blush. He decides to focus on answering your question. “We are. She’s sort of like...my rock, I guess? She’s actually the one who got me into football.”

You nod, listening intently, “And your dad?”

You notice Jamie tense slightly, but he turns back to you with a half smile, “Our relationship’s a bit complicated. Maybe that’s more of a story for a fifth date or something.”

You give him a kind smile, “That’s fair.” And then you turn back to your laptop screen.

“What about you?” Jamie asks after a beat.

You look up with raised eyebrows, “Me? My favorite color is yellow.”

Jamie chuckles, “Noted. But no, I meant, what's your relationship with your parents like?”

“Oh!” you chuckle lightly with him, “My mom is the best. Feels like she might get along with yours; she’s the reason I’m an actor.” Jamie’s smile grows, “She did literally everything in the world to support me even though she was a single mother. I never knew my dad though. He left my mom before I was born so he’s never been around.”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry,” Jamie says softly.

“It’s fine. I don’t know him. And from the brief things my mom has said, its probably for the best. And honestly it's okay. Mom’s been more than enough on her own.”

Jamie nods, the smile back on his face. “Okay, anything else you got on that list besides colors and parents?”

“Oh, I have plenty,” you chuckle, “But feel free to ask me anything of your own?”

“Hmm,” Jamie thinks for a second, “What's your favorite flower?”

You look up, amused, “My favorite flower?”

“Yeah. You know that way I can be more specific next time I get you some,”

You once again have to bite back a smile, “Uh, I would say daisies are my favorite flower.” Jamie nods, committing the information to memory, “What about you?”

“Me?” you nod and Jamie doesn’t even hesitate, “I think lilies are nice.”

“Lillies are nice,” you agree, typing it into the doc.

That’s how you spend the next hour or so, asking one another trivia about each other and inputting it into the doc for ease of studying later. You learn about each others childhood pets and the careers you wanted when you were five. You learn each other's favorite foods, stores, bands, as well as the little things you hated. You learned more about his teammates, particularly those closest to him like Sam, Isaac, Colin and Dani. In turn you told him about how Margot was more like a sister to you even if she was technically your employee, as well as your childhood next door neighbor Katie who was still your best friend today.

You only realize you’d been talking for so long when your stomach lets out a growl, and Jamie doesn’t even pretend to courteously not hear it when he lets out a belly laugh. 

“Leave me alone, it actually is almost dinner time, dude,” you defend, even though you find yourself laughing along with him.

“Fair point,” he amends when he catches his breath, “Do you want to order in?”

You don’t even protest the idea of prolonging your time together, thoroughly enjoying getting to know him, “Sure. I can order a pizza.”

You start searching local pizza places into Google, when you remember another item of business you had on your list. 

“Ooh, that packet on the coffee table is for you.” you nod in the direction of said stack of papers.

Jamie sits up, intrigued by the mysterious document, and picks it up. He squints at the weird legalese, “Is this…a contract?” You nod, “What, you don’t trust me or something?”

“No, it's not that, it's just standard,” you shrug, “It's more or less just to appease my publicist and the like.” Jamie still looks unsure, so you sit up and start flipping pages of the document for him, “Looks, its no big deal. I already signed it myself. It just states we can’t tell anyone about this. Besides, the NDA expires in 5 years anyway. So by that time, I’ll have an Oscar and you’ll be a washed up football player, and no one will believe you if you said anything.”

Jamie huffs, “I want to be offended by that, but you called it football so I’ll accept it.”

You smirk, “See, I’m a fast learner.” Then you settle back into your spot on the couch and carry on ordering pizza. 

Jamie looks over the packet again, before siding it was no use tonight, “You mind if I look this over and get it back to you in a few days?”

You nod, “Of course.”

“And your publicist knows? I mean obviously. And assuming Margot knows? Have you told anyone else?” he asks.

“Nope, that’s all,” You answer, “I get it if you want someone to confide in, but I figure the tighter we keep the circle, the better, right?” Jamie nods, “I mean have you told your publicist or professional team?”

Jamie laughs humorlessly, “My publicist is my ex, Keeley.”

You once again look up at him with your mouth agape, “Nooo, how does that happen?”

Jamie shakes his head, “Not intentionally. She took over the club’s PR before I came back to the team and I guess I never thought to find someone else. We became friends, genuine friends, but then everything got tangled up again a few months ago. And yeah. Here we are.”

You look at him for a few seconds before you let out a deep breath, “Well, that all sounds fun. A real incestuous family you got going on over there at AFC Richmond huh?”

Jamie can’t help but laugh along with you, “Yeah, look what you’re marrying into.”

You chuckle, but weirdly you feel your stomach flip at his phrasing. You brush right past it in order to collect his pizza preferences. As you finalize submitting the order, Jamie starts over analyzing your apartment again. This time he’s a bit more nosy and pulls open some of the coffee table drawers. He gasps when he pulls open the second one.

“No way. Please tell me this is yours and it didn’t just come with the place.”

When you look up, he’s holding up a Mario Kart game cover. 

You scoff, “Of course that’s mine.” 

“I haven’t played this in ages,” Jamie says, studying the back cover. 

Another smile plays at your lips. You nod at the TV in front of you, “I can hook up my Switch if you want. It’s been a while since I’ve played with someone other than myself.”

Jamie looks up at you, an excited grin forming on his face. “You’re fucking on.”

And so you spend the next hour competing against Jamie in various Mario Kart races. You play as Toad, naturally. Jamie plays as Princess Peach which makes you laugh. In between rounds, you munch on pizza and breadsticks. You also manage to get to know each other more, and set up ground rules for your charade even as you trash talk one another.

“I feel like the most important is PDA,” you state, somehow managing to focus on not falling off rainbow road while also talking strategy.

“Well, we’ve obviously got to do some of it,” Jamie comments, cursing as he gets hit with a shell, “It would look weird if we didn’t sometimes.”

“Sure, but we’ve gotta have some boundaries. We can’t just be kissing each other willy-nilly.”

Jamie chuckles, “Well, yeah, consent is key.”

Your lips quirk, “I’m completely fine with small things like hugs and hand holding whenever it seems fit.”

“Okay, cool, yeah,” Jamie nods, “And if you’re fine with it, kisses on the cheek are pretty innocent.”

“Yeah,” you nod, swerving to avoid a banana, “But actual kissing…”

Neither of you know how to finish that sentence. However, your race comes to an end. This time you get away with first place, Jamie in second, which you’d be switching between throughout the evening. Without gameplay to distract you, you have to make a decision.

“Maybe we just take it as it comes?” you suggest slowly, “I mean, couples kiss right? So if it feels right in the moment, it's not a big deal for a peck here and there?”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees, “And if there’s ever a time we need to make a show of it, we check in with each other. Either beforehand, or if its in the moment, we give each other a signal.”

“A signal?”

“Yeah, like we blink twice or something.”

You nod, “Blink twice. Okay. And if we’re ever uncomfortable with something, we just have to communicate with each other, right?”

“Right.” Jamie nods. After a beat, he extends his hand, “Looks like we’re doing this.”

You chuckle, but shake his hand none the less, “We’re doing this.”

You exchange smiles. Now that the sun has gone down, Jamie decides its probably time to head out for the night, feeling like you’d accomplished a lot over the course of the evening.

As you walk him to your door, you ask one last question, “There was actually one more thing I wanted to ask. If you’re free Thursday night, do you want to come to an event with me? Isabel Mercer’s new movie is premiering, and since she’s dating my costar the whole cast is going. Figure it might be a good place to make a public debut?”

Jamie smirks, “A movie premiere? You should have started with that.”

You snort, “Yeah, well, I had to make sure this mock-date went well first.”

“I’d say it went very well, wouldn’t you?” Jamie smiles, “I think we’ve got this shit in the bag.”

You laugh, “So I guess that means you’re in?”

Jamie does a half bow, “I would be honored.”  

“Good, because I hate going to these things. I need someone to suffer through it with me.”

Jamie fake-pouts, “Don’t try to make this sound less fun for me.”

You shake your head, and you make your voice really high as you reply, “Don’t worry, it’ll be great!”

Jamie tsks, “You’re gonna have to be better than that when we’re trying to convince the whole world we’re madly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” You tease, opening your front door and gently shoving him towards it.

Jamie turns to you with a smile, “Good night, girlfriend.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and give him a smile of your own, “Good night, boyfriend.”

Before you can process what he’s doing, he’s leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he completely pulls away, he whispers in your ear, “Google Earth.” He gives you once last smirk before jogging down the steps. 

You shake your head as you lock up. This was certainly going to be an experience these next three months. 

You flop back down on your couch to review your notes from the evening. After reading through for a few minutes, you remember you hadn’t checked your phone the entire time he was there. Aside from a couple emails and a text from your mom, you didn’t have much since it was a Saturday. However, you also have 2 texts from Margot. The first you had missed from earlier this afternoon, which was a link to tweet from an updates account about you. The tweet contained pictures of Jamie arriving at your flat earlier that day. The second had been sent minutes ago, including a tweet from the same account, this time with pictures of Jamie leaving literally ten minutes ago.

The devil works hard, but paparazzi and stans work harder.

You also realize that Jamie had been right. That smug bastard.

You couldn’t be too annoyed though. The comments under the tweets, even the most recent, were filled with people surprised yet supportive of your coupling. A few even conceding that you did look cute in a relationship. You smile to yourself as you scroll through.

Shit. This was going to work. 

a/n: can’t wait to hear what you guys think!!! :))))))

taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog​ @royalestrellas​ @loveslide​ @torpedo-belly​ @skewedcherries​ @littlemisssunshine192​ @hopefulromances​ @breakmyheartlater​ @ohpuckyeah​ @alipap3​ @meg-ro​ @rexorangecouny​ @pythagothug​ @bonesbonesetc​ @xxenia14​ @rockchickrebel​ @thatonedogwithablog​ @percysaidnever​ @msjb2002​ @loveforaugust​ @dicgohargreeves​ @whimsical-roasting​ @gcidrvsh @lightninginab0ttle it wouldn’t let me tag the last couple of you, but i will keep trying <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #mine #my writing #behind the scenes series

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

09: This Love

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 2.8k

warnings: Lando's pov, handritten is in italics, emails

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part

a/n: HELLO I hope no one hates me because of what I have done and what will happen :)

He was broken.

The day he broke her heart he wanted to delete it from his mind, act like it never happened. He regrets lying to her, not telling her from the start his real name and who he is. He regrets so many things and there's no way back.

Sitting on the bed, a bed he barely slept in, felt bad, wrong. He knows she is at the other side of the wall, throwing things and breaking them. He can hear her.

Tomorrow he has to leave, but time passes so slow right now without her that it feels like the day he has to leave will be next year. 

The shell she made for him is burning on his chest, making him hold it on his fist like his life depended on it. He feels how the hickey she left on his collar burns his skin. Her hair bands he has on his wrist are getting tighter and tighter, he feels how his hands are getting cold with the lack of blood. 

But it's all mental. All mental and not real.

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe none of this happened, it's just a nightmare of what could happen if she discovered his real name. 

He just has to wake up and then he will find her laying next to him on the bed, with her back on his chest and her hand holding his in front of her chest.

He tried to wake up desperately, slapping himself, pinching his arms. But it hurt, it hurt and what hurt him the most was that everything that happened was real.

"What have I done?" he cried softly, holding the shell with both of his hands and bringing it to his lips.

He really loved her. He loved Lily so much it overwhelmed him. He couldn't believe how much he could love a person in so little time, how his heart could beat for her and how he sighed thinking about her. 

For the first time, he felt she was the one. For the first time he felt she was his weakness. For the first time he let his mind wonder about the future and not live only in the present. 

He really saw a future with her. He saw himself waking up next to her all mornings and falling asleep next to her every night. He saw himself spending evenings with his friends while holding her hand. He saw himself buying the perfect apartment for them, with a room for her and all her paintings. He saw himself kneeling in front of her with a box in his hands and a shiny ring inside of it. He saw himself walking out of a chapel as newlyweds, holding her hand and hearing their friends cheer for them.

He saw a life with her. But it just faded away the moment she locked her apartment door.

He flinched when he heard the ringtone of his phone, making him run his hand all over his face and then hair, picking up the call.

"Yeah?" he sighed, not looking who was calling 

"You finally pick the call!" Zak.

"Zak… I'm not in the mood to talk right now" he sighed, closing his eyes, not wanting to hear his boss.

"Do you have any idea of the trouble you made? Who is that girl?" he asked. "You have a lot of things to explain"

"There's nothing to explain anymore" he said. "Whatever that happened with that girl is done. I'm coming back home tomorrow"

"There are pictures" 

"I know there are pictures! Even if I asked at the start of my summer break that I wanted no one to take pictures of me, people wouldn't listen! I don't have the energy to explain things about my private life because it is what it is! Private" he explained. 

He's tired. Tired of explaining his behavior, why he says and does things. He's tired of people not liking him because of how he is. He's tired of acting and looking at what he can say or he can do.

"For once in my life I wanted to do something by myself" he said, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling. "And it looks that I can't even do that"

"Once you come back from those holidays you have to come to the headquarters" Zak stated. "You have things to do"

"Of course I do" he sighed.

Who was him to believe that he could have the life of a normal person? That he could go somewhere alone and have a calm and quiet break? 

He's a celebrity, no matter where he goes there's always going to be someone that will recognize him.

"Fuck" he groaned, leaving the phone on the bed and taking a deep breath.

Now what? What he should do?

Carlos said he should use his brain to fix things. But how? How will he explain himself if the person he wants to talk with is the person he betrayed and hurt?

He sighed, getting up and walking out of the apartment, walking around the town. 

He ignored the people asking him for pictures, those who called him by his name like if they knew who he actually is. 

He didn't know, but his brain was working alone, taking control of his body and leading him to a store. He saw his hands grabbing a notebook and pens. He saw his feet walking towards the cashier, watching how he paid for what he bought.

He made the way back to the apartment, looking at her door with a sad gaze.

"I do love you" he whispered sadly. "More than you think"

It was incredibly hard to be Lando now. He wanted to be the man she fell in love with. He really wanted to be Logan.

The notebook was open in front of him and the pen was in his right hand. What is his brain planning to do? 

Dear Lily:

I know I hurt you. And I'm so sorry for doing that, you have no idea. I know that there's no way you can forgive me for what I did. And I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness.

Yeah. My name is not Logan. So now I will tell you everything about me. And by everything I mean the truth.

I'm Lando Norris. I was born on the 13th of November of 1999. I have siblings: an older brother named Oliver, and two little sisters named Cisca and Flo. My older brother is already married with Savannah and has two beautiful daughters: Mila and Athena (you would have loved them, I know you would have smiled a lot hearing Athena's name). My sister Flo is a professional horse rider, and I bet you would have loved to ride her horse, it would made you giggle like when we went to those ruins riding a horse.

I'm half British and half Belgian. My mom is the Belgian half of me. I really would love to learn her language because that would help me talk with my Belgian family, but I'm so bad with new languages, you know that.

I'm not a DJ. I mean, I do have a DJ set, I try to make some music but that's only a hobby. My work is being a driver. A Formula 1 driver for the team McLaren. This is my fifth year racing with them and I plan on doing it for a long time. 

I like to play golf too, and play video games as you saw. I have an eSports team named Quadrant that is going pretty well. I'm so proud of the team and of my own brand, of how much it grew since I created it. Many people follow us and we do a lot of things, we even have clothes. You know that red hoodie you borrowed me? It's from Quadrant. And those violet shorts?  From Quadrant too.

I would have loved to introduce you to my friends. I'm sure Carlos would have loved you, all my friends would. They are nice guys. 

Sometimes at night I imagine how you would fit in my life. How you would come to my races, cheer for me and walk next to me through the paddock. How much you would have loved to spend time with my family and friends, going together on vacations. 

My family would have loved you so much. Mila would love you, asking you to draw with her or make jewelry for her. She would be your number one fan. Savannah and you would be good friends, I'm sure. And I think you would be good friends with the girlfriends of other drivers.

Lily, I do love you. I couldn't tell you who I was because I was so scared of you recognizing me, or people around the town recognizing me. I'm so tired of being in the spotlight, of being in the mouth of other people, talking bad things about me. And I didn't want you to know that, I didn't want you to know the bad side about me.

I fell in love of you so hard, and it kills me hearing you cry and being the cause of your tears. I wish I could be there to hold you close to my chest and brush your hair. I wish none of this happened and I told you the truth from the start.

I'm yours, Lily, only yours. You own my heart and I'll leave this town knowing that I will never have it back.

Always yours,

Lando

He signed the paper with a sad smile. He told her everything, the essential things she has to know. He could tell her more, but he doesn't know how she would react, or if she would read this first letter.

Staying inside that apartment drove him crazy. He needed to be with her, it was as if he couldn't breathe without her touch.

He always asked himself what it was like to be in love, to find true love. When he was little he observed his parents, how much they cared for each other, how they shared their joy and sadness. Then he saw his brother, how he built a connection with his girlfriend. 

And now he found that connection, he knows what it feels to be connected with someone, to have the same feelings and caring for someone. He doesn't want to stop feeling that way.

Putting his things on the suitcase was hard. He knows that once he closes it he won't come back here, that he won't see her. 

Laying alone on the bed of that apartment was different. He felt cold, even if he had the blankets under his chin. His eyes wouldn't close, the ceiling was too interesting, apparently. He stopped hearing her, and it made him feel anxious. But he can't do anything.

He woke up early, or got up, because he could sleep. It was like a funeral walk, keeping his head low and grabbing his things, grabbing the notebook and ripping off the paper. He folded it and walked out of the apartment with his things and the letter in his hand.

"Lily?" he sighed, knocking on her door and slipping the paper under her door. "Just… take care, okay? Don't let this affect you. I love you, I want the best for you. I hope you forgive me… I love you"

He walked downstairs for the last time, looking back at the apartment complex with a sad smile and tears in his eyes. He went to the restaurant where the owner of the apartment works, taking a deep breath.

"Eh… Nora?" he called, making seconds later a woman walk out of the kitchen. "I came to leave the keys"

"Oh, how was your stay?" she asked with a lovely smile. 

"Eh… good" he smiled weakly, sniffling softly. "Can you please keep an eye on Lily?"

"Oh… Lily" she nodded. "Yeah of course"

Lando nodded, smiling weakly. He grabbed his backpack and turned around to walk out of the restaurant, but the woman stopped him.

"I won't say that what you did was right" she sighed. "I know what happened. But, Lando… if you truly loved that girl just give her time, don't give up on her"

"I won't" he smiled sadly. 

"Here" she said, writing something on a piece of paper and handing it to him. "It's her email. If you love her, don't stop letting her know"

"I…" he mumbled surprised, looking at the paper. "Thank you… you don't know how much it means to me. Thank you so much"

"Just fix this… make our girl happy" 

He nodded and held the paper close to his chest, walking out of the restaurant and waiting for his taxi.

There's a tiny hope for him. Just a tiny light of hope.

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 15/08/2023

My lovely Lily,

I arrived home. Things here are a mess… There were some not funny fans that decided to take pictures of us and post it on social media. And now, instead of enjoying the last days of freedom before working again, I have to make sure that everything is out of the internet.

I hope you read the letter.

I miss you so much 

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 24/08/2023

My gorgeous Lily,

There's no morning where I miss your hair in my face. 

Today I have to go to Zandvoort, it's the first race after the summer break. I'm so excited, actually. The car is amazing and I just hope I can finally win a race.

But sometimes I wish you were here… I wish I never lied to you, Lily. I'm not myself anymore. I can't sleep, Lily. I can't stop thinking about you and how you looked at me the moment you discovered the truth. Sometimes it hunts me in my sleep.

I wish you were here, love… 

I miss you

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 27/08/2023

My dear Lily,

The race didn't end well. I scored points, but the one that won was too fast and I couldn't follow his pace, nor stand on the podium next to him.

It's not that the car failed me. I failed the car. I wasn't focused, my mind was flying to Greece.

My boss is not happy with my result, and blames me for the bad performance.

God, you have no idea how bad I need your hugs, Lily. You have no idea how much I need your smile or giggles.

I miss you

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 20/09/2023

My sweet Lily,

Today I saw something in a store in Japan that reminded me of you. It was a little figure of Athena, your favorite Goddess, but from that anime called "Knights of the Zodiac". Did I tell you that my brother's little daughter is named like her? I have an Athena in my life, it sounds amazing, right? 

I sent you a hoodie from the new collection of Quadrant. I hope you like it and use it.

I miss you so much

I love you so much

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 18/10/2023

My beautiful Lily,

You won't believe this. I'm in Las Vegas. 

This place is amazing, but I don't think you would love it. It's too noisy, there are too many lights here. This place is the opposite of everything you like.

Do you miss me? Because I still do so much. 

In less than a month will be my birthday. I wish you were there with me to celebrate it.

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 12/11/2023

My precious Lily,

Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't want to celebrate it.

These last weeks and months are not the same without you. I wish I could say that my results at the races are good, but it's far from that. They are miserable. I can't focus. I do score points, I work well with the team. But I feel tired all the time, not well rested.

I just want this season to end. I want to go to Greece and see you, hug you, kiss you. 

I'm getting crazy everyday while checking the mail, wanting to read about you, wanting to know how you're doing. 

I know I fucked up, but please… I can't anymore, Lily. I don't want to give up, but I don't have energy anymore, baby… please, give me a simple answer. I don't care if it's an "I hate you" or "fuck you". Please let me know you are still alive.

I miss you so much.

And I love you to the moon and back.

From: Lily

To: Lando

Date: 13/11/2023

My dear Logan. Or Lando,

I'm alive.

Happy birthday 

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart @beatricemiruna @nonameishere

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fanfics #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

[retrodreamgirl]

lacking trust | steve harrington x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three

summary: there's no us in us when i'm lacking trust OR you don't trust steve's intentions with nancy and you finally confront him [1.3k]

warnings: angst, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, fem!reader, language, not proofed, lmk if i missed anything

might do a part 2 if there's any interest

definitely based on emails i can't send by sabrina carpenter

⤜♡→

He looks at her like she hung the moon but to her he’s not even a passing star. 

You’d be an idiot not to notice the longing glances and the smiles that inch just a little closer to the apples of his cheeks when she enters a room or utters a vague phrase in his direction. It pushes you to the brink of manic, knowing you're less important to him than someone who couldn’t even say ‘I love you’. 

It’s become a game, the way you hold your tongue and maintain complacency as his second choice. No matter how well you play, it’s never you who’s winning. Perpetually a consolation prize watching him fall further into spiraling naivete, waiting for the moment he rebuilds the confidence to throw his hat back in the ring. 

It’s pitiful, the half truth of whispered love confessions in the front seat of his car or pressed beneath thin sheets post bliss. And yet, you take every one of them to push further into the hole gaping in the center of the appendage dripping with adoration in the cage of your chest. You take them to nurse between hot tears alone in your bedroom, waiting for him to call and knowing he won’t, assuming he’s found some way to spend the evening with her instead. A sick reminder of your own failure to love, to be able to conceive the intangible emotion as more than something fleeting and convenient.

Your deprecative state only seemed to worsen when Jonathan moved away, the one buffer between Steve and his almost love now cross country and building a life brand new. Leaving not only a window cracked just above the sill for Steve to worm his way beneath but the uncertainty of a high school sweetheart whose only mechanism to cope is building stress in the fashion of extracurriculars. 

She’s unguarded and Steve becomes the haven she’s missing without her own knight stationed at her side every waking moment. She takes yours, as if he hadn’t already belonged to her in the first place. The sharp wounds weakening your defenses proof enough of his archaic betrayal. 

Too nice is the bitter taste lingering at the tip of your tongue with a snide remark about the constant cancellations and last minute excuses. Idiotic is the one that stings with the desperation that  leaves you clinging to the hope that seems to dwindle with the days cut short by leaves falling into fall. 

Heated emotion is what drives you to Steve's front door, the porch dimly lit by a fashionable sconce placed adjacent to the door. You have a key but you never use it and you know the latch on his door isn’t locked but you feel foreign even breaching the steps to the front door and kissing the wood with the gentle reach of your knuckles.

He isn’t expecting you and that’s perhaps the worst part. His smile drifts to the side when he swings the door open, a twenty clutched in his fist and a soft laughter that drops off from the living room. He’s wearing your favorite sweater, a soft, gray cable knit one you often find yourself sliding on for a night in. He smells of traces of lemon and rosemary, the cologne you gifted him for his birthday, his lips look to be stained with the blue icing from one of the cupcakes you baked the other day. 

“Hey, baby, I didn’t think you were coming over tonight.” He has the foresight to step beyond the threshold, leaning in to press his chapped lips to the skin of your cheek. That gross sense of security creeps in, tugging at the lines of your face even as your gaze drops to study the laces of your white converse. “Nancy is just over for a movie, was feeling kinda lonely without Jonathan.” 

There’s a small confidence in you then, his need to explain the extra character away. Like he still cares.

“Nancy.” It speaks like an affirmation, like the words you came here to say are reliant on your own understanding of an untouchable bond however one sided. “It’s just always Nancy these days, isn’t it? Shit!” 

The words are not directed at Steve but naturally the absence of a third party would make it apparent that your words are being spewed at him like venom. He takes half a step back and you tilt your head to meet his hazel eyes reflecting in the brilliance of the single sconce keeping you from the dark. 

“Whoah, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing. Just—I suppose you won’t invite me in?” The way his hand scratches at the nape of his neck, his eyes glancing to the door, is enough to send you stumbling backward. You clip your foot on the corner of the bottom most step, the cool of red setting your senses on high where it trickles down your ankle and into your sock. 

“I just don’t know if Nancy really wants to be around another couple right now…let me take you home.” A gasp disguises itself in the back of your throat, high in pitch and not altogether of your own consciousness.

“Oh…well you know, not that I actually wanna come in and watch you make a fool of yourself but she wouldn’t have to worry about being around another couple because we aren’t one. Not really.” You ramble, ignoring the furrow in Steve’s brows and the way his hands slip to his hips in that way they do when he’s exasperated or confused. There’s a dull ache licking at the small gash in your leg but you ignore it in favor of your train of thought.

You miss the way Nancy’s head momentarily pops through the crack in the door to regard you both in concern. She almost steps onto the porch and urges you inside but feels her presence would only cause an escalation in the already climactic scene.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” He leans forward, ignorant to your audience too concerned about the way your words are half slurring together, body swaying against the evening breeze. He glances to the driveway and spots the absence of your car, silently thanking whatever higher power that you didn’t drive here, half frightened that you walked the distance from wherever you’d been prior to his house. He takes careful steps, sizing the distance of his hand to your waist without drawing attention to the slow extension of the lengthy appendage.

“I guess we never were…I was always just a placeholder for Nancy and I’m just so fucked up that I thought it was fine, that I could deal with it. But now I’m telling you that we’re not whatever version of a couple we were pretending to be so you don’t have to lie about just being a good friend anymore—” 

“Baby, you know I love you. Now just—” You step out of his reach again, finger lifting to your lips as if to silence him in the quiet of his picket fence suburb.

“But you’re in love with her.” 

“Y/n, you should come inside and lay down. Please, baby.” 

“Oh so now I should come in? It’s fine, baby. I’m fine.” You push at his hands trying to gently guide you, laughing at the absurdity of his delayed affection. The gratification of finally getting it all off your chest has you riding high, forgetful of the empty bottle you’d chucked into Steve’s yard on the way up. No sense to remember the reason you’d picked it from your parent’s liquor cabinet to begin with. 

“Please, just come inside and we can talk about this tomorrow when you’re not—” 

“No, I’ve said all I need to say and ya know what? I’m sure I’ll get over it and you eventually. But, I hope you know that as much as you’re still in love with her, she got over you a long time ago.” 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader

[hsgucci94]

Long day

Summary: The one where Harry wants attention but Y/N’s working.

Content warnings: fluff from start to finish.

Work count: 500

masterlist

———

“Darling,” Harry called you, laid on the couch with the TV on, although he wasn’t really paying much attention to it.

You simply answered with a quiet “Hm?”, your gaze fixed on the computer screen as you quickly typed a bunch of emails you had to urgently send before you could be fully done with work for the day.

“Darling,” he called you again, this time hoping to get a bit more of your attention, but you kept on typing, too concentrated to even take a second to answer him. It had been a long day at the studio for him, and he was craving you and your hold.

“Darliiing,” he repeated, this time pouting a bit when he realised you weren’t going to look in his direction, so he had no other choice but to toss the blanket away and get up from the couch, walking over to the big table in your living room that worked part-time as your office.

He positioned himself behind the chair you were sitting at, cautiously passing his arms around your shoulders and giving them a slight squeeze. You closed your eyes as soon as you felt his touch, your posture relaxing almost immediately.

“Hey, love?,” he mumbled, “Are you almost done?”

“Yeah. Just five more minutes and I’ll be all yours,” you assured him.

He nodded, a small smile making its way to his lips, “Alright. Come join me on the sofa when you’re finished, please.”

“Mm-hm,” you replied, turning your head around enough for him to see the smile you were flashing at him.

When you were done reading and rereading what you had spent the last few minutes typing, you finally hit ‘send’, a relieved sigh escaping your lips afterwards. You closed your computer and made your way to the couch, Harry’s cheeks lifting into a smile the moment he saw you approaching him.

“Finally! C’mere,” he said, making you giggle.

He quickly wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you to him, your body falling next to his as he momentarily moved the blanked away, before making sure it covered you both. His legs instinctively entwined with yours while his arms wrapped around your waist in an attempt to pull you closer to him. He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a sweet kiss to it.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment all day,” he confessed, brushing his nose against yours as soon as his face was in front of you.

“How was it, though?,” you softly asked, closing your eyes and focusing all your attention on his voice.

“Boring,” he chuckled, “Had to listen to Jeff and the others talking about bureaucratic stuff I couldn’t care less about.”

You giggled, moving yourself closer to him as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, his cheek resting against yours. His grip tightened around you as a small sigh escaped his lips, enjoying the closeness you were experiencing after what looked like a tiring day at work for the both of you.

Coming home to each other was, undoubtedly, the best part of your day.

#harry styles #short story #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles prompts #harry styles stories #harrystyles #hs1 #hs #harry styles fluff #hsgucci94 #hsgucci94 imagines #hsgucci94 prompts #hsgucci94 stories #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 31

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: E

A/N: Hi everyone! It feels like I blinked and suddenly I haven't updated this story in over 7 months, ooops 🙈 I moved abroad and went back to school in September to start a postgraduate degree, so I've had very little time to write over the past few months. I hope you can all forgive me and are still interested in Lorelei and Richard's story! If you are, I've tried to make this chapter extra special... 😈

Before I know it, the spring break is over, and I am drowning in emails, deadlines, and assignments to correct. Thankfully, however, the telltale signs of summer bloom across Oxford as the term unfolds. The air, once crisp, now carries a gentle warmth, accompanied by the hum of bees and the fragrance of blooming flowers along the banks of the River Cherwell, which beckons scholars and locals alike to punting excursions. Days lengthen, inviting late-night strolls through narrow cobblestone streets while the evening sky blends into hues of soft pastels. The fast-approaching exams threaten the leisurely atmosphere of the city,  but when I walk through the sunlit streets with Richard’s hand holding onto mine, I feel as though time stands still; there are no exams, no piles of unmarked essays on my desk, and Richard is here, and he is not leaving. Not now. Not ever. 

I try to be happy and excited for him—I am—but with each passing day, it becomes harder and harder to imagine being thousands of miles away from each other. But we have many things to look forward to; in a few days, we will officially be on summer holiday, and I will move in with Richard. That is what I need to focus on. His imminent departure looms over us, but it does not change the fact that we love each other and are determined to make this work. A year ago, I was offered a lecturer post at Exeter College. It was more than I had ever dreamed of, and I thought life could not get any better. Little did I know I would meet Richard and fall in love with him. The past few months have been a whirlwind, and it still surprises me how fast things have progressed between Richard and me—how quickly he has come to mean the world to me. The thought of losing him terrifies me, but we have been through so much already, so I have to believe that we can get through this next year. 

“Lorelei?” A knock and a familiar rumbling voice pull me back to the present moment.  

Richard stands in the doorway to my office, one hand resting against the aged wooden frame as he smiles at me. The unbuttoned collar of his white shirt draws my attention to his throat and the patch of hair peeking through. Just like the first time we met. 

“Hey,” I say with a smile. 

“Lost track of time?” 

“What?” 

“It’s half past four.” 

“Oh,” I breathe out as I glance at the time on my phone. “Sorry—I completely lost track of time, yeah. Hope you haven’t been waiting for me too long.” 

Richard shakes his head as I throw my laptop and notebooks into my bag, then rush to the door, but he blocks the way with his arm. “You alright?” 

“I’m fine,” I reply, smiling at the concern in his voice. “Just have a lot of things on my mind.” 

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and the tender look in his eyes tells me he is thinking of kissing me, but the hallways are busy with students and professors, all rejoicing at the end of the term. 

“Good or bad things?” he asks, his hand lingering on my jaw for a moment longer than it should in this environment. 

“A little bit of both,” I reply, but when he merely continues to watch me, I sigh. “There’s still so much to do before the move. I haven’t packed any of my clothes or anything from the kitchen—”

“Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you pack. Don’t worry about that.” I nod and offer him a grateful smile. Then he frowns. “That’s not what’s bothering you.” 

Sometimes, I wish he did not know me so well. “It’s just the move combined with research deadlines and all the exams I’ll have to correct in a few days,” I say, not wanting to bring up the true cause of my discomfort. I do not want him to feel guilty—he should be excited about this research opportunity, and he deserves nothing less than my unwavering support. “Have you gotten any news on that flat you were interested in?” I ask a few moments later as I lock the door to my office before walking towards the main staircase, trying to appear unphased. 

“Not yet, but it’s still early in Boston so maybe I’ll get some news later.” 

“Right,” I say with a smile, but it hits me all over again that we will not only be separated by an ocean but by time as well, and the thought of needing to wait hours for a text or call from him when he wakes up each day claws are my heart. 

“So I told Michael about Harvard’s offer.”

“How did he take it?” I ask, knowing this was difficult for him as they have been friends and colleagues for many years. 

“He took it well. I mean—it’s not like he could do anything if he didn’t like the idea of me leaving for a year; I’m allowed to take time off from teaching for research. That being said, he told me he was happy for me and that it would be great for the department and the college to have one of their professors working with a famous scholar like Stanley Griffin.” 

“Just as great as it is for Harvard to have one of their professors working with you, I imagine,” I say, looking up at him. 

Richard chuckles skeptically. “Lorelei, he’s Stanley Griffin.” He speaks the scholar's name almost as if he were talking about Shakespeare himself. “His anthologies are used in most English departments.” 

“Well, only one of you is a professor at what is arguably the most prestigious university in the world.” 

“I guess,” he replies with a sheepish smile that warms my heart. 

The sun burns bright in the sky above the dreaming spires, casting long shadows on the cobblestone beneath our feet as we walk through the main quadrangle toward Broad Street. All around us, students rejoice in their newfound freedom, lounging at cafes, iced coffees in hand, discussing summer plans while cyclists whizz by, their wheels clicking against the cobbled paths.

“I can’t believe it’s so warm and sunny today and we have to spend the whole evening indoors for the staff party,” I groan as I step into Richard’s car, throwing my bag on the backseat. 

“We don’t have to go,” he says, closing his door and buckling his seatbelt. 

“Of course we have to go.”

“Lorelei, these things tend to be really dull. They call it a party but it’s just a room full of tired academics who’d rather be at home or locked in their offices, and they serve ridiculous canapés that leave you starving at the end of the evening. Although, admittedly, there’s always an open bar.”

“Alright, then let’s stop and get burgers on the way and stay close to the bar for the duration of the not-so-party party.” Richard chuckles as he steers out of the parking spot. “Come on, our presence is expected. And it might be the last time you get to see some of our colleagues before you leave.” 

He does not say anything for a while, then he reaches out to squeeze my thigh, and I know he, too, is thinking of the long months of loneliness ahead. 

In an attempt to change his mind, I intertwine our fingers and smirk as I say, in a light, sing-songy voice, “I bought a new dress for the occasion that I think you’ll really like. It’s navy, and sleeveless—I just hope it’s not too short…” 

Richard shakes his head but fails to hide his smile. “I see what you’re trying to do, sweetheart.” As we stop at a red light, Richard notices my expression and sighs. “Alright, let’s go to the stupid party—but we’re not staying too late.” 

***

It took longer than expected to get ready at my flat. Despite agreeing to attend the event, Richard prevented me from getting dressed with languid kisses and lingering caresses, but eventually, we managed to tear ourselves from each other and leave. 

The city is submerged in the sun’s golden farewell to the day when Richard and I arrive at an imposing, Jacobean-style mansion near The Queen’s College, and as we walk through the tall wooden doors and into the main hall, I cannot help but gasp and look up at the ceiling high above us, causing Richard to chuckle. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he says, squeezing my hand as he leads me toward the grand staircase. 

I nod. “I think I’d prefer to just walk around the building instead of going to the party,” I begin playfully, but Richard shakes his head.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he says, letting go of my hand to hold my back and push me forward. “You practically dragged me to this thing so you better not leave me for even a second.” 

I bite back a smile. “What if I need to go to the loo?” 

Richard chuckles. “Okay, you’re not leaving me except to go to the loo.” 

The hubbub of conversation and clinking glasses fills the air as we step into the grand room lit by the setting sun and the soft glow of chandeliers hanging from the frescoed ceiling. I spot familiar faces in the crowd while we make our way to the bar, but most people I do not know, so I am grateful for Richard’s reassuring presence, and I already dread having to attend events like these without him next year. 

“So here we are,” Richard says dispassionately after we order drinks. “Now do you believe me for saying these things are boring?”

I shake my head in amusement, then bite my lips, suddenly feeling shy. 

“What is it, sweetheart? You’re blushing,” he points out with a curious smile. 

Hesitantly, I lean in and speak in a soft voice only he can hear. “Would it be less boring if I told you I’m not wearing knickers?” 

Richard laughs, but then he catches my eyes and gulps heavily. “Are you—you’re really not—?” 

I shake my head, slowly gaining confidence as his eyes darken. He laughs again, the sound deeper and hoarser, telling me exactly how he feels about my styling choice. 

 “This is a work event!” he playfully chastises me, and I giggle as he brings a hand to my back.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure this party wasn’t too dull for your tastes.” 

He smirks. “I now suspect I’ll be feeling unwell or tired rather soon and you’ll have to bring me home earlier than planned.” 

“Oh, yes? And how will we spend the rest of the evening once we’re back home?” I ask, feigning innocence. 

“Well, for starters, you’ll take off that lovely dress and bend over—” 

Heat rises up my neck, and I nearly choke on my drink when, just at that moment, someone calls out to us, forcing us to pull apart suddenly. 

“Richard, Lorelei!” Professor Bennett greets us with a kind smile. “I was beginning to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t be joining us.” 

Richard glances at me, a cheeky grin illuminating his slightly red face, before turning back to Professor Bennett. “Last-minute outfit crisis,” he replies teasingly, squeezing my waist. 

I shake my head, trying to ignore the tingling in my belly caused by his last words to me. 

“And this is what you landed on?” Professor Bennett says playfully as he looks Richard up and down, causing me to laugh.

“Well, not everyone has your fashion sense, Michael,” Richard responds with a chuckle.

“Maybe we should start being evaluated on that; that way, I might stand a chance against you and win the teaching award for once.” 

Smiling, I look up at Richard and then back at Professor Bennett. “Richard was voted favourite Professor again?” 

“He sure was!” he says, raising his glass to Richard. 

“How amazing!” I exclaim, momentarily resting my hand on Richard’s chest. “Congrats, love!”

Richard’s grateful smile is made all the more endearing by the faint blush blooming on his cheeks. 

“But don’t tell anyone—I haven’t sent out the official announcement yet.”

Professor Bennett then turns to greet a passing colleague, so I lean into Richard. “I know one person who for sure voted for you,” I whisper with a teasing smile, thinking of Jane Taylor and the stars in her eyes when she speaks to him. 

“Shut up,” he responds, though he fails to hide his smirk as he pinches my waist, causing me to giggle. 

“Hey, there you are!” Natasha’s familiar voice interrupts us, and I turn to see her squeezing her way around a couple of Ph.D. students. We all greet her, but then she notices Richard and seems to hesitate for a second before she says, “Apparently, congratulations are in order!” Richard smiles shyly. “Working with Stanley Griffin—that’s exciting!” 

“Yeah, it is,” Richard replies with a nod, though he momentarily tightens his hold on me.

  “I must say, thank God for you, Lorelei,” Professor Bennett begins, causing me to frown in curiosity, “under different circumstances, I’d be worried about losing Richard to Harvard forever, but I know as long as you’re in Oxford, he’ll be coming back,” he says with a fond smile. 

I chuckle, then try to come up with a playful response, but I cannot ignore the heaviness in my heart. How can I miss him already when he is still here, holding me tight?

Thankfully, Richard steps in. “Don’t worry, Michael, you won’t even get a chance to miss me. I’ll be coming back periodically to check in on my postgrad students—that sort of thing…” 

“Yes, sure. For the students, of course,” Professor Bennett says teasingly, and from the corner of my eyes, I notice Richard staring at me longingly, and heat rises to my cheeks. 

As they continue to joke around, Natasha catches my eye and gestures for me to follow her. I reassure Richard I will be right back, then step aside, concerned by the frown on her face. 

Once we are far enough from the others, she reached out to caress my arm and asks, “How are you feeling?” 

I gulp, suddenly understanding her previous hesitation. “I’m fine.”

She nods slowly, biting on her lower lip. “So he’s leaving for a year…” 

I nod, struggling to gather the strength to respond in words. 

“That must be really tough for you.” 

“Yeah, it is, but… we’ll make it work.” 

“So you guys aren’t—aren’t breaking up or anything, are you?” 

“Oh, no!” 

She lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! When I heard the news earlier today all I could think of was…” She trails off and laughs nervously. “You guys can make it work. I know you can.” 

I smile. “Yeah, I hope so.” Then my smile widens. “Actually, I’m moving in with him.” 

“Really?” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up in genuine happiness. 

“Yes! We want to make the most of the time we have together before he leaves, and this makes it a little easier to reassure ourselves that we’ll get through this together.” 

Natasha nods and squeezes my arm. “I’m so happy for you two!”

“Thanks,” I reply, grateful for her friendship. Then I notice Richard eyeing me from the bar, but before I can say anything, Natasha smiles in understanding. 

“Alright, go back to your man,” she teases. “I just really wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll go see if I can find Sarah somewhere.” 

I give Natasha a quick hug before making my way back toward Richard, who is now conversing with two men I do not know. As soon as he notices me, he excuses himself from the conversation and, wrapping one arm around my waist, pulls me slightly to the side of the bar, away from prying ears.

“Everything okay?” he asks in concern.

“Yeah, Natasha just wanted to check in and make sure I was alright given… you know…”

Richard nods, then looks down at me with an exaggerated pout. “You left me alone when you said you wouldn’t.” 

“So needy,” I tease as I rest a hand against his solid chest, my fingers absently playing with the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “You were talking with Michael so I figured you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Okay, new rule: when we’re at an event and you tell me you’re not wearing any knickers, you have to stay within arm’s reach.” 

I burst out laughing, though heat rises to my cheeks at his rumbled words. “Alright, I can abide by that rule.”

“You better.” He smirks before leaning in to kiss me. His lips are soft and warm against mine, sweetened by the wine he has sipped. I can feel passion simmering deep within him, and when I reluctantly pull away sometime later, all too aware of our surroundings, Richard groans quietly. He then takes one quick glance around the room before leaning in conspiringly. “I think we might be able to sneak out of here for a little bit,” he says in a quiet voice, then gulps, and I am momentarily distracted by the movement of his Adam’s apple. “You know, to explore the building like you wanted.” 

“Right. To explore the building,” I repeat, smiling innocently. He finishes his drink in one big gulp, then winks as he takes my hand to lead me out of the crowded room.

The sound of our shoes against the polished stone floor echoes through the long hallway as we search for a more private place to continue the evening, failing to contain our laughter as we try door after door, in vain. We have nearly reached the other end of the building when we finally stumble upon an unlocked door. We cast furtive glances around us to make sure we are alone before slipping inside what turns out to be a small reading room with bookshelf-lined walls and a few rows of desks, illuminated only by the lamposts in the street below. The sweet, earthy scent of aged paper and leather-bound tomes fills the air, but then Richard wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, laughter lingering in his eyes, and the familiar smell of his cologne surrounds me. I can still hear echoes of the party in the distance, but it all disappears when, with a soft smile, Richard leans in to rest his forehead against mine. One of his hands is now tangled in my hair, holding the back of my head and pulling me closer as we share our breath, lingering in this moment, allowing ourselves to pretend that the rest of the world does not exist. 

When he finally claims my lips in a hungry kiss, I let my eyes flutter close and, standing on my tiptoes, circle my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to me as I drown in his passionate embrace, content to pretend that my only worry is knowing we will eventually need to pull apart for air. We move against each other out of instinct, ignoring the time and place, fuelled by an evening of flirting and lingering touches and our impending separation. He lets go of my lips to trace a path along my jaw, down my neck toward that sensitive spot below my ear, and the warmth of his tongue combined with the rasp of his beard sends heat spiralling down my spine. My hands are now buried in his hair, tugging on the soft curls, and he groans into my neck before reconnecting our lips. 

Without breaking the kiss, he effortlessly lifts me into his strong arms and sets me on one of the desks, spreading my legs apart with his body. Already, I ache for him; heat swirls through me, buzzing incessantly between my legs, and when he squeezes my left thigh with one of his large hands, I cannot help but buck towards him and whimper, the desperate sound of desire echoing through the room. 

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” Richard murmurs against my lips, and a rush of arousal floods my core. 

As his hand slides higher up my thigh and slips under my dress, I cannot help but chuckle. “Are we really doing this?” 

Richard grins. “Don’t act innocent; you knew we’d end up in this situation the moment you decided not to wear knickers.” I giggle into the kiss at the deep, unbridled lust coating his words. “I can’t resist you.”

He pulls away just enough to watch my face as he teasingly slides two fingers over my folds, coating me in my arousal. Biting my lips, I wriggle on the desk to grant him better access, and when his fingertips brush against my clit, the whole room seems to pulse with the intensity of the pleasure tingling through me. Richard knows my body by heart now—he knows exactly where and how to touch me to have me panting in his arms in no time. He sets up a languid pace, alternating between drawing circles on my clit and slipping a long finger inside me, only allowing himself to increase the pace when I latch onto his shoulders, my hands pulling on his tweed blazer. My breath hitches in my throat when he slips two fingers inside me, crooking them and almost instantly finding the spot that has me arching my back and whimpering his name. My legs are now wrapped around him, my thighs pressing into him as he catches my mouth, taking the breath from my lungs and the moans from my lips. 

My release washes over me in a dizzying wave, pulsing through every fibre of my being, leaving me hot and panting as I cling to Richard while he continues to pleasure me, not stopping until I collapse in his arms. A car horn echoes in the distance, reminding me of our surroundings. Even so, as I look up to meet Richard’s lust-darkened eyes, desire flares in me again, and the warm weight of his hardness pressing into my inner thigh reassures me that this is far from over. Licking my lips, I raise a hand to teasingly caress him through his trousers, revelling in the whimper he fails to hold back. One of his hands returns to my hair, gently tugging as I slowly reach for his belt buckle—

The door creaks open. 

In an instant, Richard and I pull apart, and I hasten to tug my dress back in place and press my thighs together just as a security guard steps inside. His eyes flicker between Richard and me, his expression a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. 

“Er, sorry, guys—this room is supposed to be closed. You can’t be in here.” 

Too mortified to speak, I turn to Richard, and he smiles sheepishly at the security guard. “Apologies, we didn’t realize. I was just showing her around.” 

The security guard nods, then steps back to let us pass. My face burns as we mumble apologies, but he walks away as quickly as he first appeared, leaving us to stand awkwardly outside the reading room. 

“I guess we should stick to our offices,” Richard muses playfully.

My heart still hammering in my chest, I look up at Richard, biting my lip, but then my eyes drift down to the noticeable bulge in his trousers, and I burst out laughing. 

“That man certainly won’t be losing any sleep trying to decipher what you meant by ‘showing me around’,” I giggle. 

Richard looks down and tries, in vain, to adjust his trousers. “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Well, I hope for his sake he doesn’t make a habit of staring at strangers’ crotches. But if he does, then yeah, he definitely noticed.” 

“It’s all your fault,” he replies with a grin. Laughing, I wrap my arms around him and look up to meet his tender gaze, but he quickly takes my arms and reasserts a more appropriate distance between us. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” I chuckle as I straighten his blazer, not wanting to let go of him.

“Oh, yes—you look very sorry.” 

“How about I make it up to you instead?” 

Richard grins. “Does that mean we get to go home?” 

“Yeah, I think sneaking away sounds like a good plan.” 

The ride back to my flat is filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. As soon as we arrive and lock the door behind us, he pulls me in for a passionate kiss, and I melt in his arms. His touch is tender and possessive, and with each kiss, each caress, we reassert our love for each other, surrounded by the boxes that signal the beginning of our new life together.

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlep @albionscastle

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters or added to my tag list, let me know!

#richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

[snelbz]

Better or Worse {8}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language.

Every session with Gwyn is easier.

I’m still tense as hell when we arrive, but as Cassian and I leave our most recent appointment with her, I actually feel like we might actually be getting back on the right track.

His hand is in mine, which has been a much more common occurrence in the past few days than it had in the last year.

Gwyn knows what she’s talking about, that’s for sure. As a relationship therapist, I would really hope she’s good at what she does, but I didn’t realize just how much I missed Cassian’s touch, the feel of his rough hands on my skin.

Nothing past PG has happened, but every time he tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear or takes my hand in his, my stomach does a little flip and I feel like a teenager with a crush.

Except this isn’t just a silly crush.

He’s the love of my life. I knew it, even in my darkest hour, even when we rarely spoke, even when it felt like we did not exist within the same space. I have never doubted that Cassian is the one and only man I am meant to be with, which is somehow even more terrifying than having a simple teenage crush. I wasn’t even this scared when we were engaged, when we were about to be married. Then, I felt like I had nothing to lose, there was no question about it, about us. Now, I feel like I have everything to lose. Even though things are getting better, we aren’t back to being us, and even though I feel like we’ll get there, that we’re on the right track, the fact that we’re not still leaves me scared shitless. 

“You’re quiet,” Cassian says, as he pulls us out of the parking lot. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I say, and it’s an honest response, even though he looks unsure. “Just reflecting.”

He nods, looking both ways before pulling out onto the main street. “I get that.” There’s a beat of silence, then he says, “I think we should go out tonight.”

I look at him, brow raised, instantly thinking about the last time we tried to go out a few weeks ago. “Really?”

He shrugs, fingers dancing on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’d kind of like to erase the last date we had. Thought we should try again.” Another beat of silence passes. “But, if you’re not ready, that’s fine—”

“I think that sounds nice,” I interrupt, afraid I was giving off the wrong vibes. I’m more surprised that he wanted to try date night again after I messed the last one up so badly, but he gives me a smile that I know is genuine, and slightly full of mischief, which reminds me of the old him, the one that didn’t want to leave me.

I miss him.

And even though I see glimpses of that old Cassian lately, I know he’s still holding back. 

“Good,” he says, and we spend the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence. 

We agreed we’d leave at six-thirty, which allows me two hours to respond to some emails before I have to start getting ready. While I’m in my office, Cassian’s downstairs going over a few new menu items for the restaurant. Half of my inbox is nasty emails from Eris, which tries to dampen my mood but I won’t let it. If I got pissed and upset everytime Eris told me something I don’t want to hear, I’d never feel a single ounce of joy. I send him one email as a response to all, letting him know that everything is on track and I’ll send him an update at the end of the day tomorrow. 

It’s just after five-thirty when a soft knock comes to the office door and Cassian peeks in. He’s shirtless, yet again, and I’m starting to think that he’s coming around shirtless more and more just to watch me ogle, which I do, with no shame. Especially when he’s sweating, looking like he’s just conquered a thousand pushups. “Red or blue?”

I lift a brow. “What?”

He smiles. “Red or blue?”

I snort. “Blue?” 

“Seafood or steak?”

I cock my head to the side. “Is this how you're planning our night? Twenty questions?”

His grin widens. My eyes fall to his chest, his abs, back up to his lips, then his eyes as he asks, “Seafood or steak?”

I think about it for a second. “Steak.” 

“Inside or outside?”

Thinking about the warm, clear day we’ve had, I say, “Outside.”

“I’m getting in the shower.” With a wink, he’s gone.

I decide I should probably start getting ready too and close my laptop, deciding to ignore all work related bullshit for the rest of the night. Tonight is about me and Cassian, and everything else officially doesn’t exist. 

When I enter our bedroom, the bathroom door is cracked and I can see the inside getting steamy from the shower. Gray pants and a navy blue button down are sitting on the bed. 

I’m glad I went with blue.

I grab a brush from my nightstand before sitting at my vanity and setting out what makeup I’m going to use. I need to wash my face first, and glance towards the bathroom door that’s slightly ajar. Surely if he left it open, he doesn’t mind if I go in.

Right?

After debating it for far too long, I walk to the bathroom door and softly knock, nudging it open an inch or two more as I do so.

“Yeah?”

“I need to wash my face,” I say, peeking my head in.

The shower door opens just a bit and out pops his arm, my bottle of face wash in his hand.

I take the bottle, doing my best not to look at the expanse of toned skin and dark ink on display, but failing miserably.

Gods, he’s mouthwatering.

Heading straight for the sink, I turn it on and wet my face. As I squeeze a good amount of the product onto my fingers and form a lather, I clear my throat. “So is our game of twenty questions over or will there be more?”

Cassian chuckles and the sound makes my nipples tighten. A husky laugh shouldn’t undo me so easily, but gods, it’s been so long. “There are a few more,” he says, as I scrub. “But I was going to wait until we were on the way to ask.”

After rinsing my face and drying it off with a hand towel, I turn to lean against the bathroom counter. “And if I have one for you?”

The water shuts off and the bathroom becomes unnervingly quiet for a moment as Cassian towels off. The shower door opens and he’s once again wearing nothing but that towel slung low on his hips. The well defined muscles leading down into the towel may as well be an arrow pointing at his cock because it’s all I can focus on.

“Nesta?”

Right, I said I was going to ask him a question.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Legs or breasts?”

The only sound is the shower head slowly dripping water onto the tile floor. Cassian blinks, likely making sure he heard me right. “What?”

“Legs or breasts,” I repeat, heading for my closet.

“Are we going to KFC on the way home?” He asks, shaking his head.

I can’t help my own laugh as I look at him. “Just pick one, you ass.”

“Breasts.” His eyes are focused on my face, trying his hardest not to let his gaze dip to the aforementioned part of my body.

“Okay,” I smirk, stepping into my closet.

I can still feel him watching me as I disappear into my chaos of clothing, searching for a dress that shows off my best assets. A few come to mind, but there’s one in particular that I’m hoping to dig out for tonight’s occasion. It takes me a minute to find it, and when I take it out of the closet, my face now clean, Cassian’s still standing there in the bathroom, that fucking towel still barely hiding all that’s beneath. 

I wonder what he would do if I kissed him. Without warning, if I just grabbed his face and kissed him, I wonder how he would react. It’s ridiculous, being nervous to kiss your own husband, but I am. His eyes dart to the dress that’s hanging on the hanger in my hand. His eyes darken. He knows exactly what dress this is. 

“Give me half an hour, and I’ll be ready,” I say, as I go by him, into the bedroom. When I look over my shoulder, his eyes are on my ass.

They snap up to mine and he clears his throat. I try to ignore the fact that I can see something happening beneath that towel of his, even though it causes a longing throughout my body that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. “Sounds good. Yeah, me too.”

I leave him in the bathroom and sit at my vanity, getting to work on my appearance. Cassian’s voice comes from the bathroom. “Twenty questions — clean shave or no?”

I laugh quietly to myself. I like this little game we’re playing. As I dab on my foundation, I say, “Keep the scruff.” 

He comes out a few minutes later, his long, wavy hair brushed and dried and loose above his shoulders. He notices me looking and smiles as he takes his clothes off the bed and goes back to the bathroom. I suddenly realize how much I wanted him to drop that towel, right here, right now.

I focus on my eyeshadow. 

Once I’m done with my makeup, I brush through my hair and add a few more curls since some had fallen loose before spraying it. 

I’m halfway into my dress when the bathroom door opens again, and Cassian is dressed to perfection. He smells phenomenal, like my favorite cologne. When he sees me, he stops.

“Perfect timing,” I say, although I find it hard to find my voice. “Help me zip?”

I turn around and move my hair out of the way. For a moment, he doesn’t come, but then he’s moving toward me, silently. 

He finds the zipper that’s just above my waist, and my breath catches as his fingertips brush the bare skin of my lower back. He takes his time, and every time his fingers make contact with my skin, an ache that’s newly been awakened throbs between my thighs. 

I never thought zipping up my dress would be erotic. I was wrong.

“Ready?” He asks, hands still lingering on my waist.

Ready to throw you down on the bed and say to hell with our date.

I smile at him in the mirror and shake my head. “Almost.”

He steps back, letting me cross the room to my jewelry box. I retrieve a necklace he gave me for our anniversary a few years back. I don’t wear it often, despite loving it, because of the length of the chain. The diamond pendant fell right between breast and as I fluff my hair out around me, I turn and face my husband.

“Now I’m ready,” I say and I don’t know why I sound so breathless.

Okay, I do. If Cassian’s gaze could set something on fire, my dress would be ashes.

Silently, he holds out his hand. I take it, loving the feel of his rough callouses against my skin. I don’t let myself think about how those hands feel on other parts of my body, despite it having been months since I felt them.

Once downstairs, he swipes his keys and wallet, and then we’re headed to the restaurant.

He takes me to one of the best steakhouses in Velaris and we sit on the roof, where string lights and live music surrounds our candlelit table. The conversation is easy, nothing is forced, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

We talk about our most memorable dates, once Cassian mentioned that one time we skipped a group date because we saw a new taco stand on the way and ate there instead, just the two of us. We sat on the steps of the art museum, dressed in some of our finest, eating a heap of messy tacos. That had been about eight years ago, and I hadn’t realized just how much time has passed between the two of us.

Nearly ten years of marriage.

A decade since we swore our lives to one another.

And I almost let it all go. Looking at my husband across the table, I don’t know how I could have ever been so foolish, so selfish.

He sees me watching him and smiles, setting his fork down, his plate now cleared. I take a sip of my wine. He refills it once it’s almost empty, until the bottle that the waiter left us is almost gone.

After calling for the check, Cassian looks up at me. “Should we head home or walk around for a bit?”

I set down my empty wine glass. “Is this a part of twenty questions?”

He chuckles. “I haven’t exceeded twenty questions yet?”

I shake my head.

“Then yes,” he says, quietly, the toe of his boot nudging the toe of my stiletto. 

“A little walk sounds nice,” I say, afraid that when we get back home we’ll fall back into our polite small talk. Small talk isn’t bad, but this easy conversation we’ve had between us today… I like it.

We walk along the Sidra, the warm, clear day making way for a beautiful night, and I listen as Cassian regales me with tales of a new chef at the restaurant. She’s young and has never had an official kitchen job before, only graduating from culinary school the year before. I glance over at him, with lips pursed. He usually isn’t willing to put his restaurant’s reputation on the line like that. His chefs and sous chefs all have long lists of accomplishments and recognition, upholding the notoriety he’s earned.

We walk on, pausing at an ice cream stand to get to two cones.

“What?”

I look over at him and he’s already watching me as we walk.

I repeat his question. “What?”

He reached out and skims a thumb over my brow. “You’re thinking too hard about something.”

I push him away, rolling my eyes, but he catches my hand and we’re heading back towards the car.

“What’s on your mind, Nes?” He pushes, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of my hand.

For a brief second, I consider lying to him. I could tell him it’s nothing, tell him there really isn’t anything on my mind. But we haven’t gone through four weeks of marriage counseling for nothing.

“I just… This new girl, Emerie,” I start, hoping he doesn’t see my question as a sign of jealousy. “What exactly made you bring her on? She’s pretty green, as far as your assistant chefs go.”

I don’t think there’s any nefarious reasoning behind his hiring her. I just don’t understand his sudden change in pace.

He’s quiet a minute, which only makes my nerves ratchet higher. When he finally speaks, his words are low, almost too soft to hear over the sound of the city around us. “She’s from the same small town as I am. Similar upbringing, no dad, single mom that worked way too much.”

My heart fractured a bit inside my chest.

I stop, tugging on his hand to make him stop, too. I look at him. Really look at him. My husband is a damn good man. I’ve always known it, and I know that he’s proud of his past, although a lot of it is tragic. He loved his mother, before she passed, considering she had raised him on her own and fought tooth and nail for everything they had. It would make sense he would be sympathetic for someone of a very similar life. 

When it’s clear I’m not saying anything, because I truly cannot find the words, his brows furrow. Before he can ask me what’s wrong, I lean up on my toes and press my lips to his cheek. He inhales, as if he’s shocked, and I let the kiss linger against his warm, stubbled cheek. Our hands remain clasped together and when I lean back, his eyes are searching mine.

“You’re a good man,” I say, my voice hoarse. “And a good boss.”

He swallows, but he nods as he brushes his thumb over the back of my hand. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

I want to yank his mouth down to mine, but this moment is cherished and I don’t want to overstep, don’t want to ruin what we’ve built here. I give him a smile and we resume our walk. 

I make a note to stop by the restaurant this week and meet Emerie as we find our way back to the truck. Cassian helps me inside the cab and his hand lingers on mine, even after I’ve sat, before he closes the door and finds his way behind the wheel. 

We listen to music on the way home and he makes me laugh when he sings along to some nineties R&B song that definitely should’ve been left in the nineties. He catches me watching him on more than one occasion, and his smile softens every time he does. 

When we’ve made it home and witnessed Greg sprawled out next to the fruit bowl on the island, Cassian says, “I had a really good time tonight.”

“Yeah,” I say, setting my clutch on the counter. “It was a good night.”

He nods, and for a moment we just stand in the silence, staring at one another. He’s the one to break it.

“I have to be at the restaurant early tomorrow,” he says, but he’s stepped closer to me. “I should get ready for bed.”

“Right.” I clear my throat, not sure what to say, as I edge around the island, closer to him. “I have to go in early, too.”

Meetings with my manager and the publishing company start tomorrow. I have no idea where the future of my books are with this company, but they have to understand that I can’t keep putting out the same volume of content out. Not if I have any hope of salvaging my marriage.

He sets his keys in the center of the island, which puts him right in front of me. Staring up at him, I watch as his eyes dip down to my lips and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Can I…kiss you?”

I nod, not trusting my voice, holding my breath. He leans in and my eyes fall closed.

After a second, his lips press against mine and I’m lost. It’s been so long since he’s kissed me. I’d forgotten how soft his lips were, how heady his cologne made me feel, the feel of his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.

I melt into him, losing myself in the feel of his kiss, clinging to his shirt with both hands.

It’s over as quickly as it began.

When he pulls back, his hazel eyes are bright and he’s breathing heavily. I want to pull his face back to mine, want to grab him and drag him upstairs with me.

But Gwyn told us to hold off on sex.

Reaching up, I caress his stubbled cheek. “We should get to bed.”

He nods and swallows, not making a move to let me go any more than I’m making a move to let him go. I can tell his self control is on a short leash, just as mine is. So I step back and make my way upstairs.

He’s just behind me.

When we’ve reached our bedroom, Cassian quickly brushes his teeth before getting a pair of sweatpants. I’m watching him on the bed the entire time, suddenly not trusting myself to be too close to him. Before he leaves to go downstairs, he kisses my forehead, quickly. “Night, Nes.”

“Goodnight,” I say, but barely anything is audible as the word leaves my mouth. He leaves, and I feel empty once I’m alone. 

After stripping out of my dress and pulling on an old t-shirt, I wash my face and brush my teeth, and bury myself beneath the blankets of our bed. I miss Cassian sleeping next to me. Tonight, more than ever, the bed feels lonely. 

My heart is racing and I’m not tired in the slightest, despite the fact that I know I need to go to bed. I need to be well rested to deal with Eris’ shit in the morning.

But I can’t stop thinking about my husband, sleeping on the couch downstairs. I wonder if he wants to come up here, wants to climb into bed with me, wants to hold me until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.

I want his body pressed up against me.

I want to feel his skin on mine.

Fuck, the throbbing between my thighs is unbearable. I don’t want to touch myself, I want to run downstairs and have him touch me, taste me, fuck me until I can’t think straight. I’m not thinking straight now, I’m too horny, too needy.

It’s been too damn long.

But Gwyn is right. Nothing should be rushed. We need to wait until we’re good again, until we’re back to being Nesta and Cassian.

That doesn’t mean that he can’t sleep in his own bed, though.

Sex may be off the table, at least for now, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t share the same bed.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed before I can think better of it. The house is quiet as I make my way to the door and push it open. Everything’s dark, and I try to be as quiet as possible as I make my way down the hall. At the top of the stairs, I stop, making out Cassian’s massive figure on the couch. There’s no way he’s comfortable. Half of him is nearly hanging off of it. 

But he’s asleep.

At least, I think he’s asleep. The living room is dark, silent. He’s not moving. I think about walking down the stairs anyway, to brush his hair off his face and ask if he wants to join me, but I can’t seem to convince my feet to move. If he’s already asleep, he’s apparently not having the same internal crisis that I am. 

Silently, I turn around and go back to bed, careful not to make any noise, careful not to wake him. 

When I’m back beneath the blankets, I slip my hand beneath my panties and rub one out until that throbbing ache between my thighs is no more. 

#better or worse #nessian #nessian bow #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab #snacmc collabs #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sjm fanfic

[chaotic-nick]

Boss Shunsui Headcanons

Note: posting this as a way to celebrate getting my internship! Unedited, wrote this on my phone

Bleach headcanon suggestions are open

Boss Shunsui who always starts the week praising you for being the backbone of his busy schedule as he walks in the door.

"(Y/n), good to see you in one piece. I'd be in hell if you weren't here."

Being new to the company(and taken back by his personality) you're not sure how to reply. Matching his energy would make heads turn to you. Being uptight would make you the office's old woman, sneering at everything.

So, the best thing to do was just smile. "Thank you, Sir." You say, tilting your head toward the stalk of papers left on his desk

And it did wonders to Boss Shunsui who makes sure his praises sounded genuine and were repeated twice a week now.

Boss shunsui who wasn't sure what you were saying about the print outs when he first saw your smile, he was unable to comprehend anything for the entire day. He spent the entire work day looking up from his desk to watch you work, hoping you'd smile again

Over time you loosen up, thank you's slowly turn to how was your weekend to I tried your recommendation, sir. Boss Shunsui takes his opportunity to start a conversation. "And did you like it?"

You nod no, fighting a sour expression on your face. He was sure that the little crush he had on you turned to a full blown high-school type of crush. "It was too . . . for lack of a better term, manly, sir."

Boss Shunsui who feels guilty over the amount of emails you go through every day. Really. You come in work looking cute. And leave work looking like you'd cry over anything.

So he stops asking you to get his coffee.

Boss Shunsui who surprises you by placing cup from the opposite bakery. It even surprises you that it was the exact flavour you'd always get. "I'd be a fool to not know your drink."

He watches you as you reach down in one your desk's drawers to take a straw out.

Boss Shunsui who's now surprised that you offered a sip from your drink, reaching it up to him. Arms on your desk, he crouches down.

"What do you think, sir?"

"You drink this everyday?" You nod yes, saying that it was for the shot of energy. "It's uh, for lack of a better term, girly."

Except, the next day Boss Shunsui also has the same drink sitting on his table. "I need the extra shot of energy." He says, matching the grin on your face.

Boss Shunsui who's always calm, too calm. Sometimes it's annoying that's he's too laid back, often ending the weekend with drinking parties.

It's rare seeing him focused on work, overtimes weren't a thing in your company. Until Yamamoto falls sick and he's tasked to take over his company for the time being.

Sleeves rolled up and the mischief gone in from his eyes, Boss Shunsui is now sat upright with a death grip on his pen.

Tired yourself you don't know how much time has passed, only aware that you rested your head on too your arm.

Boss shunsui who's guilty that he put you through amount of workload he was used to. And wakes you up with soft strokes to your hair.

He's glad that you don't apologise when you crack your eyes open, only asking what happened.

Boss Shunsui who offers to drive you home. Telling you that tomorrow is a well deserved day off for everyone.

Boss Shunsui who's too tired to turn down your offer of making him a meal.

"I don't remember the last time someone cooked for me," he says joining you in the kitchen. Your face hovering above the pot's steam. "Can I help you?"

"You can set the plates,"

It's a quiet meal with Boss Shunsui and the two of you are sure that you've crossed some sort of line in relationship. But with your knees meeting and heads almost bumping against each other, you two would rather celebrate getting through a the first week of handling Yamamoto’s company.

Another line was crossed as you drape a blanket over Shunsui's tired form that fell asleep on your couch. His face looking younger for his age and hair free from it's ponytail.

Uhmm tagging @dejwrites because SHUNSUI

#nick headcanons #shunsui kyoraku x reader #bleach headcanons #shunsui x reader #shunsui x you #shunsui x y/n

[smilingformoney]

Sharing Part III | Lionel/Reader/Eli

These two have taken over my brain send help

Now with surprise appearance from Sinclair and Betty!

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Apparently luck was on Lionel’s side, because a month or so later - during which time your flirting hadn’t ceased one bit - you were on your way to London.

It wasn’t for the best of reasons - you discovered on Thursday night that your uncle back in England had died and the funeral was on Monday, so you were very suddenly trying to book flights and accommodation at the last minute.

You: Urgent. Cheapest way to get last-minute tickets to London?

Lionel: Are you that desperate for me?

You: Family stuff. Any tips?

Lionel: When do you need to leave?

You: ASAP. Family thing is on Monday.

Lionel: I’ll sort it. Hold tight.

You: My hero ❤️

Less than twelve hours later, you were at the airport with a boarding pass Lionel had emailed to you. He had apologised profusely that you were flying commercial - apparently he had a private jet, because of course he did - but at the very least he’d managed to secure you a business class ticket.

Business class was fancy. You were generously paid by your university - far more than a literature professor should, even if you had a doctorate - but things like flight class upgrades were luxuries you’d never seen the value in.

But you might just change your mind on that. There was no way you could go back to being packed into economy like sardines now that you’d experienced the luxury of business class.

You were almost disappointed when the plane landed in London and you had to get off, but at least your dual nationality meant you could get through immigration quickly with your British passport. Lionel had told you to expect a driver to be waiting, so when you saw a man holding a sign bearing your name, you introduced yourself to him and let him take your bags to the car.

Even the car was a luxury. Lionel had really gone all out for you - but, then again, the man was filthy stinking rich. This was probably the minimum standard for him.

The driver pulled into the underground car park for a fancy-looking building, which you presumed to be your hotel, which was no doubt also very fancy and far too expensive.

He took you and your bags to a lift within the car park and handed you a key, telling you to use it to take you straight to number 69.

You wondered if Lionel had picked that room number intentionally. Probably.

The lift ascended, and you felt extremely out of place. Even the damn lift was fancy! And here you were in your baggy, worn out flying clothes. If anyone saw you, they’d probably think you’d snuck in and try to kick you out.

The lift finally reached its destination and you stepped out directly into the room, which could only be described as an entire apartment. What sort of fancy hotel had direct lift access to the rooms?

Your question was answered when you turned your head and saw the artwork on the wall.

It wasn’t a hotel room at all. It was Lionel’s penthouse.

“Fucking bastard, Lionel,” you muttered under your breath.

“Is that any way to address your host?”

Sure enough, Lionel was descending the stairs, an animal-print robe wrapped loosely around his torso, leaving just enough of a gap that you could see his chest hair poking out.

You’d sworn you’d wait at least to say hello before you jumped him, but… fuck it. You met him at the bottom of the stairs and your lips were on his instantly.

You felt him smiling into the kiss as his arms snaked around your back, one hand cupping your arse. He pushed against you lightly, and you were like putty in his hands, immediately falling back against the wall, allowing him to trap your body against his.

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t wine and dine you first,” he growled in your ear as your kisses moved up his jawline. “I’ve been waiting far too long to have you.”

“God, no, fuck that. Take me out later. Right now I just need you to take me.”

You could feel his erection pressing up against you, his robe threatening to come apart, and of fucking course he wasn’t wearing any underpants. You grabbed clumsily against his chest as you tried to open his robe, and Lionel chuckled.

“Not here, love. I have quite a comfortable bed I think you’d much prefer over the wall.”

“We could be behind the fucking bins at Taco Bell, I wouldn’t care. I just - just fucking need you, Lionel - fuck, please —“ You muttered your pleas between kisses on his neck, and Lionel moaned when your teeth grazed his skin.

“Ohh, yes, I’ll take you, [Y/n]. You won’t ever want to leave London again - you won’t want to leave my bed again. You’ve entered the lion’s den now, love. Prepare to be… devoured.”

He pulled away from you slightly, causing you to gasp in surprise at the sudden absence of his skin against your lips, and he gestured for you to lead up the stairs.

“Looking for a view of my ass?” you teased.

He smacked your left cheek for that.

“If I want to see your arse, I know you’ll show me. I don’t need to trick you. Here - this room on the left.”

“How many bedrooms do you have?”

“Only five.”

Only?

You always thought your apartment was a bit big for one person. Lionel was one person too, and yet the master bedroom he was leading you into was bigger than your entire apartment.

You’d be disgusted at the obscene wealth if you weren’t so horny.

You were still gaping at the size of the bedroom when Lionel wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He slipped one hand into your pants and you gasped at the sudden intrusion as he cupped your pussy with his large hand.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to walk,” he growled in your ear seductively.

“Please,” you begged, throwing your head back onto his shoulder as his fingers began teasing at your folds. His other hand slipped under your t-shirt and grabbed at your breast, causing you to gasp when he squeezed your nipple.

“Gah - fuck - please, Lionel - please fuck me, please, please, please —“

He smirked as he placed a kiss to your jaw.

“Do you not need foreplay? Or is my lioness hungry already?”

“We’ve had months of foreplay, Lionel. I’m done waiting.”

“Mmm… I suppose you’re right. Get naked and get on the bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

You almost stumbled over your own feet to get to the bed and undress at the same time, and Lionel just laughed.

“I knew you’d be eager. That’s why I didn’t bother getting dressed.”

He dropped his robe, and just as you’d suspected, he was stark naked underneath.

“Where are your condoms?” you asked.

“In the drawer.”

You reached over into his bedside cabinet, and stifled a giggle when you saw his box of condoms was right next to a copy of the Karma Sutra.

“There are a lot of fun positions in there we can try,” Lionel said when he saw you looking. He took the condom from you and began to roll it down his shaft. You watched his movements, practically drooling at his cock. “But we’ll experiment later. For now, I want to see your face as I fuck you for the first time.”

Lionel climbed on top of you and kissed you, hard and passionate, as if the only air he could breathe was that from your lungs. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him desperately, your hips bucking up towards him in a desperate plea.

He unstuck his face from yours, both of you panting for air, and Lionel looked at you with a surprising amount of tenderness.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and with a swift thrust he slipped inside you.

You both groaned in relief, months of sexual tension finally paying off. He fit perfectly - just the right amount of stretch, and when he bottomed out, you could feel his tip pressing snugly against your G-spot.

He paused once he was sheathed inside you, his eyes closed as he savoured the feeling of being buried inside you.

“Lionel…”

He grunted in response, his eyes flickering open to look at you with a wild lust in his eyes.

“Devour me.”

Lionel grinned and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“With pleasure, love.”

He set a brutal pace, and you had to hold onto him to stop yourself from being thrown around on the bed - not that that was an unpleasurable idea, but for now you liked being sandwiched between his body and the mattress as his hips rammed into you as if he was trying to hammer you into the bed.

“You’re right, we don’t need foreplay,” Lionel said smugly as he lifted himself into a kneeling position, keeping his brutal pace going the whole time. “You’re soaked.”

“I’ve been wet for you f - for months, Lionel - ah!” You squeaked when his hand reached between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit with his thumb, just adding to the anguishing pleasure you felt burning through you, and you wondered if he’d consulted his Karma Sutra on how to pleasure the clit just right - either that or he was just a natural at pleasuring women.

“You know, I fucked Polly from accounts last week and - ugh - the whole time I thought of you. You’ve - mhm - you’ve ruined other women for me, love. Even before I’d had you. And now I have - hahhhh - now I have, I’m afraid they’ll all pale in comparison.”

You grinned cheekily. “That’s what they all say.”

Lionel’s grip on your thigh tightened, and he shook his head.

“I mean it. Fuck. Even your tits are perfect.” He eyed them hungrily, watching the way they bounced with each of his thrusts, the way your chest shuddered slightly with each moan. He increased the pace of his thumb on your clit, and you cried out.

“Lionel!”

Your hands gripped the sheets, desperate for some sort of purchase as your whole body shook with each of Lionel’s thrusts. You were close, you knew it, and when you felt the familiar flame burning inside you, you knew there was no stopping it.

“Lionel, I - I’m gonna cum, I —-“

“Yes, love, that’s it, cum on my cock - let me hear you —“

“Oh god, Lionel… Lionel!”

You screamed his name as you came, your muscles spasming and your walls clenching tight around his length. Lionel gritted his teeth, a low rumble building in his chest, and your name tumbled out of his mouth as he came, cock pulsing, and you were hit with a desire to feel him fill you with his seed.

He held your hips flush against his, his cock twitching inside you as he panted, his brain empty and dizzy with nothing but the bliss of you.

After a few moments, Lionel pulled out of you and you reluctantly climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom. When you came back, Lionel had discarded his condom but had made no effort to put his clothes back on. He beckoned you towards him, a satisfied smirk on his face, and you clamboured under the blankets with him.

Lionel wrapped an arm around you and held you close, as if without your body heat he would freeze.

“Hello,” he mumbled with a chuckle.

“Hi.”

You both laughed.

“How was your flight?” Lionel asked, adjusting himself slightly on the bed so he could look at you and hold you at the same time.

“Amazing. I didn’t want to get off. I’ve never flown business before.”

“Really? Much better than first, isn’t it?”

You scoffed. “Lionel, I’ve never flown anything other than economy.”

“What?” he said incredulously. “Packed in like sardines with god knows who?”

“Well, sometimes I use my flying points to upgrade to economy plus.”

“Outrageous. That university should be paying you far more if you feel you have to slum it in economy.”

“I teach literature, Lionel. Nobody cares about literature. The money’s in science.”

“Nonsense, the arts are extremely important!”

“You’re only saying that because you run a media company. You need us artists, or you wouldn’t have anything to sell.”

“First of all, I run multiple media companies —“

“Oh, sorry, of course.”

“— and second, I run them because I believe art is important. So brilliant people like you can continue creating. You’re welcome.”

You laughed, and you were about to respond when your phone began ringing from where you’d tossed it on the floor when getting undressed.

Lionel, who had a better view of the phone, peered over at it.

“Pfft, you’ve barely landed and Michaelson misses you already.”

“I’ve barely landed and you’re fucking me already.”

Lionel grinned. “That’s true.” He leant out of the bed to grab the ringing phone and tossed it to you. “Go on, better not keep Daddy waiting.”

You rolled your eyes at him and answered the phone.

“Hi, Eli.”

“[Y/n], where are you? I’ve come to your office and you’re not here.”

“No, I’m off today.”

“Off? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you sick?”

“Yes, off. I didn’t tell you because it was last-minute and you’re not my keeper. And no, I’m not sick.”

“Well, when are you coming back?”

“Erm - I’m not sure, actually. Lionel, when’s my flight back?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t booked it yet.”

“Lionel?” Eli repeated down the phone, flabbergasted. “You took off at the last minute to see Lionel?”

“No, of course not! I had to get to London quickly and —“

“Yes, I’m sure you did. I thought you were a professional, [Y/n]. I can’t believe you booked the day off work to fly to London for a shag, as you lot like to call it —“

“Eli! Will you shut up? My uncle died, dickhead, his funeral’s on Monday. Lionel was kind enough to get me a last-minute flight and put me up for the weekend.”

“Oh, yeah? Fucked him yet?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I knew it! Barely off the plane and you’re already spreading your legs.”

“Put him on loudspeaker,” Lionel muttered to you. You sighed and did so, hoping if they hashed it out quickly it’d be over sooner.

“Michaelson! You need to learn to share, mate. You both made it clear you’re not a couple, so what’s your problem? Or are you only interested in fidelity when it’s one-way? Speaking of which, found any more bastards lately?”

“Ah, fuck off, Shabandar. [Y/n], you better get back soon as you can. You’re in for a hell of a punishment.”

He hung up.

“Prat,” Lionel spat. “Does he always speak to you like that?”

“He’s an asshole, sure, but he’s not usually that bad. He’s just - well, not jealous, I don’t think. I think he’s just annoyed because he likes the idea that he’s fucking multiple women but I’m only fucking him.” You paused. “Aw, man, I’m just a replacement for his ex-wife, ain’t I?”

“You are a lot of things, [Y/n], but you’re certainly no one’s wife.”

“Damn straight.” You tossed the phone aside and leant back into Lionel’s arms. He smiled and held you happily, both of you glad you could finally feel one another’s warmth.

“Have you ever been married, Lionel?” you asked absentmindedly.

“No. Never found a woman I’d want to commit to.”

“So you’re too much of a man whore?”

Lionel chuckled, and you could feel his deep laugh reverberating through his chest.

“Precisely. Just like you’re too much of a slut. Would you marry either one of us if it meant you could never have the other?”

“You’re rich, so yes, I’d marry you.”

“So shallow, [Y/n]!” Lionel said in mock surprise. “Have you been flirting with me all this time just to get to my wallet?”

“No, the other thing in your pants. But the hefty wallet’s pretty nice too.”

Lionel smiled and kissed the top of your head surprisingly gently. “Did you want to get dinner tonight? It’s on me and my hefty wallet. Anything you need while you’re here is on me.”

“Hmm… I’ll be honest with you, I’m not too keen on putting any more clothes on today.”

“Good point, nor am I. We’ll order in, then, and tomorrow we’ll go out for lunch. I have a charity event tomorrow night if you’re interested. Very fancy party, lots of rich people mingling and writing generous cheques to show how rich and altruistic they are. I’m sure you’ll find yourself a rich husband there.”

“I doubt anything I’ve packed will be suitable —“

“Then I’ll buy you a dress in the afternoon, after we go out for lunch. Please say you’ll come, [Y/n], these things are horrifically boring. I’m richer than everyone else there, so their displays of wealth are so tedious.”

You turned your head to look up at him with a smirk. “Why would I go looking for a rich husband at this party if I’m already fucking the richest man there?”

“So you can fob him off to fuck me instead.”

You laughed, then turned around to throw a leg over his lap, straddling him, his half-erect cock pressing against your thigh.

“I seem to recall you saying you always get what you want, so do I really have a choice here?”

Lionel grinned. “You’re a quick learner.”

“You think? Let me see how quickly I can learn the best way to ride you…”

***

It was very, very dangerous how much you were enjoying spending time with Lionel. From waking up to his face between your legs, to lunch at a fancy restaurant and shopping in the afternoon, you could definitely get used to being spoilt.

And on top of treating you well, he was good company too. He was witty and he had a way of making you feel comfortable with him, even in unfamiliar surroundings. You bonded over a mutual love of all things artistic - not just paintings, as were his passion, and literature, as was yours, but you had similar tastes in theatre, music and cinema.

When it was time to leave for the charity event, you met Lionel at the bottom of the stairs where he was standing looking out the window as he waited for you in a perfectly fitted tux, which was no doubt tailor-made.

“Well, don’t you look handsome!” you said, eyes raking up and down his body, containing the urge to rip the tuxedo off him.

Lionel turned around, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you.

“Wow, [Y/n]…”

“Do I look alright? I wasn’t sure what to do with my hair, so I figured I’d just curl it —“

“You’re beautiful.”

He said it so suddenly, so sincerely, that it made you blush.

“Oh - erm - thank you. I won’t look out of place?”

Lionel shook his head incredulously and approached you to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Darling, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb only because you’ll outshine them all. All eyes will be on the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Lionel, stop it, you’re making me blush!” you giggled, but you loved to hear such sweet words coming from him.

“And you still look beautiful with your cheeks glowing red. Shall we, then?” He offered you his arm.

“Yes, let’s,” you said, taking his arm gratefully and allowing him to guide you to the elevator.

The party might have been tedious to Lionel, but you were having a great time. He introduced you to so many people that you lost track, but you did meet a few famous faces you were a little starstruck by.

“Ah, and here’s my cousin, late as usual!” Lionel announced as a man around his age, bearing some resemblance to him, arrived with a smile on his face and a slightly younger woman on his arm, who looked just as nervous to be there as you were.

“Lionel!” the cousin announced cheerily. “Good to see you, cuz!”

He wrapped his arms around Lionel in a big bear hug, which Lionel tolerated with a pat on the back before stepping back.

“[Y/n], this is Sinclair Bryant, my cousin. As you can already tell, he has no respect for decorum or timekeeping.”

If Sinclair heard the insult, he showed no sign of it, as he was still beaming as if seeing Lionel was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“[Y/n]? How lovely to meet you! You know, our great-great-grandmother was called [Y/n], wasn’t she, Lionel?”

Lionel shrugged. “Was she? I wouldn’t know. Sinclair has the family history memorised,” he explained to you, “along with every other fact known to man.”

He turned his attention to Sinclair’s companion and smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eye, and a twist in your stomach suddenly reminded you of Eli. You hadn’t heard from him since last night’s phone call.

“And Elizabeth, looking lovely as always, dear.” Lionel took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it with a flirtatious smile, and she blushed.

“I’ve told you before, Lionel, you can call me Betty.”

“Betty, of course. Now, if you ladies don’t mind, I have some business to discuss with Sinclair.”

“Now?” you said. “Aren’t we at a party?”

“Yes, and if we don’t catch each other now, it won’t be until Christmas. Now, Sinclair, about those reports you sent me…”

The two men wandered off, and you excused yourself for some air, finding your way out to the balcony, which you were relieved to find was empty.

As if he psychically knew you were thinking about him, your phone rang and sure enough Eli was calling.

“How’d you know I was thinking about you?”

“Because you’re always thinking about me. How’s the party?”

“Good, but I feel so out of place. Met some interesting people though. Hey, wait, how did you know about the party?”

“It’s on Twitter.”

“Since when do you use Twitter?”

“Since this morning. You know Lionel’s super famous, right? Being filthy rich does that. Everything he does gets tweeted. There are photos of you two all over the internet.”

“What?!” you gasped.

“Yep. Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman at lunch… Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman go shopping… Mystery woman accompanies Lionel Shabandar to charity gala… Oh, now here’s an interesting comment. ‘Isn’t this the same woman who went to Shabandar’s Christmas party with Eli Michaelson?’ You’re really making a name for yourself. Or you would be if anyone knew your name…”

“Fucking hell. Nah, I can’t have this, Eli. I can’t have my personal life plastered all over the internet!”

“Should have thought of that before you fucked a Nobel Laureate and one of the richest men in the world.”

“Oh piss off, you are not using this to excuse your jealousy. Look, I have some fame of my own, okay? Maybe not like you two do but I am known in lit circles, and the last thing I want is for my name to be associated with who I’m dating rather than my work.”

“Dating? Is that what you and Lionel were doing today?”

“No - shut up, you know what I mean. Do you think Lionel can take them down? He pretty much controls most of the media, right, so maybe he can talk to the head of Twitter or whatever —“

“Too late. Once it’s on the internet, it’s everywhere.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“So… you were thinking about me?” Eli said after a few moments.

“…Maybe.”

“But you’ve got such exalted company, [Y/n]. Why would you be thinking of a humble little Nobel Laureate?”

You scoffed. “You are the very antithesis of humble, Eli. And you’re certainly not little.”

“But I am a Nobel Laureate.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

“So… what were you thinking about? Missing my cock yet?”

“Actually, I thought of you because I saw Lionel flirt with someone. Realised I was jealous… made me think I kind of understand why you’re mad about me being here.”

There was a long pause.

“I was gonna ask you out,” Eli said.

“…What?”

“Last night. That’s why I was mad. I was gonna ask you for a real date. Spent an hour working up the courage to knock on your door, meanwhile you were in London fucking Lionel.”

You froze. Your world was spinning. Then, without even thinking, you said, “I woulda said yes.”

“You wouldn’t rather Lionel instead?” Eli scoffed.

“No. I dunno. I… I like both of you. You fuck around, and I know Lionel does too. Can’t I have it both ways? You for when I’m in the States, Lionel when I’m in the UK. Both of you when you’re both around. I keep thinking of taking both of you again.”

Eli let out a frustrated groan.

“Fuck, you’re such a greedy slut. I wish I was there to take you right now in front of all those stuck-up snobs. Lionel can join in only once I’m done with your tight cunt and it’s all loosened for him. Or maybe he could take your ass at the same time. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“God, Eli - I can’t be getting wet in the middle of this party —“

“You knew you’d be getting wet the moment you started thinking about me.”

“I’m always thinking about you at the worst of times… last week one of my students asked if I was friends with you and I had to resist saying I’d sucked your cock half an hour earlier. Not least because I’m pretty sure she’s one of yours. Leah Driver?”

“Oh, Leah… yeah, she’s one of mine. Gives terrible head, but her ass is divine.”

That awful twisting feeling rose up in your gut again, and you pushed it back down.

“In fact, since you’re off playing fancy with Lionel, maybe I’ll arrange a one-to-one with her…”

“Are you trying to make me jealous of a student when I have Lionel here ready to take me as soon as I open my legs? Try harder, sweetie.”

“Not there with you now, is he?”

“No, he’s catching up with his cousin.”

“Oh, Sinclair? Yeah, I’ve met him. Extremely annoying.”

“He seems alright to me.”

“His wife’s hot, though. The new one, not the old one.”

“Okay, Eli, you go fuck your students like the professional you are. I’ve got a party to enjoy.”

Meanwhile, back inside, Lionel and Sinclair had finished their business chat and conversation had turned to more interesting things.

“That woman you’re with seemed really lovely! Are you dating her?” Sinclair asked with excitement, as if his cousin’s love life was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Why, are you looking?”

Sinclair looked offended. “Of course not! I’m very happy with Betty, you know that. I wouldn’t dream of even looking at another woman.”

“Sinclair, relax, I was joking,” Lionel reassured him, knowing his cousin’s feelings about cheating. “No, we’re not dating. Simply fucking.”

“Well, Betty was looking on Twitter earlier - I don’t have it myself, I’m completely inept with technology - but somebody spotted you and [Y/n] at lunch earlier, so I thought maybe there was something more there. Especially as you brought her tonight.”

“She’s certainly… piqued my interest,” Lionel admitted. Sinclair’s eyes lit up, but Lionel quickly added, “But she’s clearly not interested in anything of the sort. I’m not the only man she’s seeing, for starters.”

“Then you need to win her over! Why don’t you bring her to Betty’s birthday party on Tuesday? I can be your wingman! I’ll tell her all the embarrassing stories from when we were kids and you used to show up to family events in your lion onesie, and if she’s still interested after that, you know she’s the one!”

“Don’t you dare, Sinclair,” Lionel said warningly. “If you ruin my chances with [Y/n], I will steal your wife.”

“So you do like her! Oh, this is great, Li! I’ll ask Betty to talk to her and see if she can find out if she likes you too. Ooh, this is so fun! I’ll go talk to Betty right now! She can be super sneaky when she wants to - lied to my face for months about not being in love with me —“

Sinclair was out the door before he’d even finished talking, and his sentence seemed to run straight into the next when he bounded up to Betty and started talking animatedly to her.

Lionel hesitated before returning to the party. He was one of the richest men in the world. He could have pretty much anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers - or a flash of his debit card. Why was he letting a woman get to him like this?

No, he wasn’t having it. Sharing you with Eli was one thing, but he would not doubt himself.

After your call with Eli, you made your way back inside, and glanced around, hoping for a familiar face. You saw Sinclair chatting animatedly to Betty, but Lionel was nowhere to be seen.

You began to make your way through the crowd towards the bar, carefully avoiding bumping into a drunk Bill Gates, when you felt a large hand close around your wrist and pull you back around.

You hardly had a moment to register that it was Lionel who had a grip on you when his lips were on yours, and his hand released your wrist from his grip only to hold your face firmly between his hands, as if worried you might break the kiss.

Somewhere in the distance, some rich people were wolf-whistling and cheering, but you paid them no mind. All that existed in that moment was you and Lionel, and the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever received.

It was all over Twitter within minutes.

#alan rickman #lionel shabandar #eli michaelson #sinclair bryant #lionel x reader #eli x reader #sinclair x betty

[wolfiemcwolferson]

hello, unusual request of mine, but for the prompt thing .. could you maybe do 9???????

thank u love u

hi baby, Piarles son of my CEO with a twist. I was going to make everyone suffer DEEPLY about this pre-race drabble but I decided against it after making myself very sad.

Pierre has no business being here.

It's too late, it's too hot, and he's got to be in a meeting to meet the new nepo hire tomorrow morning at 10 AM.

But, that's why he's here.

His guy - the one he hired and trained and turned into the perfect employee - was passed over for the son of the CFO.

He's barely out of grad school - probably can't write a report without consulting his textbooks.

And he's meant to be Pierre's equal. He's meant to be the person that Pierre is going to work with on major acquisitions - trust to read his mind and stay late. Do all the work that Pierre does.

So, he swore off doing this - off dragging pretty boys in bars home when he should be home sleeping and resting his brain for his job, but he's here and there's a boy sucking on the side of his neck while they ride the elevator to his floor.

"You live in a nice place." The Pretty Boy says when the elevator stops and Pierre hums, squeezing his waist, pulling him down the hallway.

They haven't spoken much. There had been some dancing and some light kissing and then he had been the one to ask Pierre if he wanted to leave with him.

He's electric though. He's electric underneath his touch and he's beautiful even in the harsh light of the hall and Pierre knows he's the kind of guy he would ask on a proper date if they met in a coffee shop or maybe at the gym.

"I do," Pierre smiles at him as he pushes the door open and then there's no more talking for awhile.

There's no more talking for exactly three hours and then there's too much talking for Pierre's liking, but he can't seem to stop.

Charles is funny as hell and he's kind of stupid and he's the best fuck Pierre has had in ages, and he's eating Pierre's lunch currently, standing up at the counter while Pierre sits across from him, accepting cold chunks of sweet potatoes off the fork.

"I just think," Charles laughs through a mouthful of potato and a smile, "that no one actually hates action movies. They say that because they want to seem cultured and interesting and above it!"

Pierre has to swallow a piece of potato that's a bit too big so he doesn't choke on it.

"There is not another genre of anything that lets you look at a dirty, hunk of man, doing things that no human being should be able to do, and -"

"Okay, yes!" Pierre agrees with him, but he waves his hand to try and get him to stop talking. "But that doesn't really do it for me so maybe that's -"

Charles spears another sweet potato and hangs his head. "There's not a single part of you that enjoys the thought of some big strong man throwing you over their shoulder and -"

He squeals because the stool Pierre was in falls to the floor and Pierre is chasing him around the counter and it's way too much for a hook-up but Pierre can't care.

Charles is gone when he wakes up, but his name and his number are on the fridge whiteboard calendar in the Saturday slot and Pierre understands that he's meant to call him on Saturday, but he's running a bit late, so he just dumps his ruined lunch into the trash and grabs one of those canned coffees that he keeps in the fridge and hopes that his shirt goes high enough to cover the bruise on his neck that Charles left with his teeth.

He's going to call him. He's already decided.

Pierre is halfway through his morning routine. He's checked his email on the train and now he's responding to everything urgent and he's about to go and debrief with Alex about their upcoming meeting, but Otmar knocks on his door, sticking his head through it immediately.

"He's here," he says simply and Pierre abandons his emails and he knows that he won't be talking with Alex. He walks into the hallway after Otmar, expecting to be met with the face of a literal child except -

Charles stands there, new badge around his neck, hands in the pockets of his black suit pants, smiling at Esteban with his eyes crinkled up and Pierre thinks he might just die.

That's the fresh faced grad that he's going to have to suffer through.

"It's nice to meet you," and then Charles makes a show of looking at his badge, "Pierre. I hear we are going to be working together on acquisitions."

Pierre has regrets, but he nods at Charles, making a show of looking at his badge too. "Charles, we will be spending most of our evenings together."

And then when Charles reaches out to shake his hand, Pierre squeezes on it too hard, watching Charles' nostrils flare.

He's swearing off pretty boys in clubs. He decides. For good this time.

#piarles #a little nonsense #pre race drabble

[tinyhockey]

be my fire in the cold - winter exchange 2k23

well this is something eh? i went into this hoping to get up the courage to write my first hockey fic and ended up writing about 9.3k words of christmas fluff. who'd have thought!

big thank you first and foremost to @antoineroussel for organizing this exchange! thanks to my beta readers @hockeytwinx @neuroweird and @thewonderzebra, and to @2manytabsopen @jostystyles and @teex for help with characterization.

and lastly, but most importantly: thank you to @lifeofpriya for giving me such wonderful inspiration and answering each and every one of my probably very annoying questions! from your magical winter exchange elf, i hope you enjoy! 💖

quick note that this is an OC fic and an AU. have fun reading!

“Santa, tell me if you're really there…”

Priya hummed to herself as she sent off another email, unconsciously nodding her head to the sound of Ariana Grande belting through her airpods. She’d had her Christmas playlist practically on loop over the past six days, as if determined to broadcast as much holiday spirit as possible directly into her ears. She didn’t think anyone could really blame her for that, though. There were only so many days out of the year where it was socially acceptable to blast Santa-themed music. It only made sense to make the most of them.

Besides, it had been a slow morning at the office. Priya had been hired as an intern (paid, thank-you-very-much) back in October, and she had quickly learned that there was no such thing as an average workday. Sometimes she found herself rushing around running errands for every person who passed her desk; thankfully, most of them were friendly, with a few exceptions she preferred not to dwell on. Other times, like today, she had to stop herself from browsing skincare websites or looking up last night’s baseball highlights. Thankfully, she’d found that her long hair typically hid her earbuds, meaning she could listen to audiobooks or k-pop albums to make the time go by faster. Unfortunately, they were sometimes too good at soundproofing.

“Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…”

“Priya!”

She jolted at the sudden call, eyes darting up, only to see her manager standing before her desk, a wry smile on his face. She quickly reached over to pause the music on her phone, tucking her hair behind her ears as she removed her airpods.

“Sorry, Dougie,” she smiled sheepishly. “I’m working, I swear.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, letting out a laugh. 

“No, seriously! I just sent off some emails. I just figured, you know…” Priya shrugged. 

“It’s fine,” Dougie shook his head fondly. “You’re fine. I’m sure you can get your work done while you listen to carols.” 

“Maybe I’ll be better with some Christmas music,” Priya responded. “Almost everything is.”

Dougie’s smile grew. “I’m actually glad you said that.”

Priya was halfway to matching his expression, only to suddenly take notice of the bright red folder in his hands. She quirked an eyebrow upwards in suspicion. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, yeah. Extremely.” After a second, he clarified, “I’m kidding.”

“I figured.” Priya nodded towards the folder. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, right! So.” He leaned forward across her desk, as if he were entrusting her with some great mission. “Every year, we have this big company holiday party towards the end of December. There’s always music, and it gets catered with all this awesome food. One year, they even had an open bar. Now that was a fun time.”

“It sounds like it,” Priya laughed, eyes still trained on the folder. “So is this an invitation, or…”

“Oh. No. Well, kind of,” he laughed. “See, the last couple years, it’s always been planned by the same two people. But one just retired, and one’s out on maternity leave. So…”

“You entrust it to the intern,” Priya finished, tutting in fake disapproval, though her smile was clear even as she shook her head. 

“It won’t just be you. Not that I don’t think you could pull it off alone.” Dougie passed over the folder. “Tom and Linda left all the major stuff in there. Who to call if you have questions about the space, which caterers they usually hire, all that stuff.”

Priya flipped through the folder as Dougie spoke, running her finger down the pages. The photos of the ballroom showed a large but intimate space, with dim lighting and velvet curtains. It would be nice to hang some string lights over the windows, she thought. And they could set up some tables there, and maybe a photo booth if the budget allowed…

“Does that sound good?”

Priya glanced up from the folder, lips already curved into a smile. “Yeah, no, of course. Absolutely. It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” Dougie smiled back. There seemed to be something slightly more to it than just a happy sort of relief, but Priya couldn’t quite pin it down. 

He took out his phone, firing off a few emails. “You have anything going on at 4:30 today?”

“Not that I know of,” Priya shrugged. “Why?”

“I’ll book off one of the smaller conference rooms for you guys, then. You can get started on the planning. Normally we have it on the Friday before Christmas, so that gives you about two weeks or so.” Dougie smiled as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I look forward to it.”

He had already taken a step away when a question popped into Priya’s mind. “Dougie!” she called. “Who else am I working with?”

“Didn’t I just tell you?” he chuckled. “One of the other interns, from tech support. You might know him.”

No. No, no, no, please, no, anyone but-

“You’ve met Nico, right?”

Damnit.

“Uh, yeah, I think. Once or twice.” Priya fidgeted with the corner of the folder, hoping she’d kept her face in a neutral enough expression.

“Cool. Glad you two know each other,” Dougie smiled, that same strange tinge to his grin as before. “You guys will be great together, I’m sure.”

She smiled tightly. “Can’t wait.”

Priya waited until Dougie’s footsteps sounded far enough away, letting out a groan as she dropped her head onto her desk. Of course. Of everyone in the entire company, it had to be Nico.

She hadn’t started off disliking him. In fact, she’d almost thought he was cute. Alright, fine, she’d thought he was incredibly cute. When she’d seen him at the intern orientation, she’d been the first to come up to him and try to introduce herself. Instead, all she’d found herself met with was a dark look and a curt reply. She’d tried sitting with him at lunch, asking him about himself, even bringing in coffee for him. Every time, the same sullen stare, the same short sentences. She’d won over almost everyone else in the office. Nico was her one exception. 

Every so often, Priya still caught him staring at her. Across the cafeteria, in company meetings — she’d turn her head, and catch him just turning his away. She couldn’t figure out exactly what she’d done to irritate him so much. At this point, she wasn’t sure finding out would make the difference.

Sighing, Priya propped up the folder on her desk, studying its festive red color as she put her airpods back in. There wasn’t any going back on it now. She’d already agreed. Dougie was her manager, and she didn’t want to let him down. Maybe, she thought, starting her playlist back up, it would end up being fun. Maybe Nico wouldn’t glower at her too much, and the whole thing would go off without a hitch.

It’s Christmas, she thought, letting out a breath as she went to check her inbox. Miracles happen all the time.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

4:30 found Priya sitting in the conference room, alternating between looking through the window of the door and her phone clock. Once or twice she considered messaging Dougie, just to ensure she hadn’t misheard him on the meeting time. To be fair, she was sure tech support was always busy, and something might have come up. With Nico, however…

It took another ten minutes for the door to finally open. Priya glanced up from the red party folder on the table, watching as Nico walked in. He barely even seemed to notice her, eyes glued to his phone screen as he typed something.

Seizing the opportunity to take a quick breath, Priya forced herself to smile in his direction. “Hey.” Nico didn’t respond even as he sat down in one of the free chairs, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes remained trained on his phone, seeming to be reading something before going back to typing. To her surprise, she thought she could almost see the hint of a smile on his face. 

Clearing her throat, Priya sat up in her chair, straightening her back. “So, um, looks like we’re working together, right?”

Nico was silent until he finished his typing, putting his phone face-up on the table. “Yes,” he responded, dark eyes seeming to study her — judge her, even. “Dougie gave you the folder.”

“Yeah. Yeah, um, he did.” She nodded, a tight smile returning to her face as she flipped it open. “I already called the venue owners, and we’re all set for the Friday night before Christmas. I didn’t want to do anything else before I asked you, but I did look up a few ideas, and I think-” Priya went to hand over some of the ideas she’d printed photos of, only to see Nico back on his phone, typing something. She frowned, voice trailing off into silence.

Nico finished typing, glancing up again. “You can keep talking. What ideas?” Priya took a breath, passing the papers across the table. “I looked up some holiday decorations, and I thought the Christmas tree made out of balloons was super cute. And then-”

“You can’t have a tree made out of balloons.”

Priya raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s silly. We could get a real tree for the same as it could cost for all of those balloons,” Nico rebutted, passing that page back across to her.

She frowned, looking back down at the photo. “I mean, maybe. But a lot of people are going to have trees at home, you know? And it’s easier to take down balloons than it is to get rid of a big tree. Plus, you’d get pine needles everywhere.”

Nico huffed out a sigh, shaking his head as he flipped through her other pages.

Priya felt her shoulders slump, softly biting down on her bottom lip. “Okay. Maybe it’s a little much for, like, just starting out.” She went back into the folder, taking out a blank sheet of notebook paper. “What about, like, a color scheme? Just so we have an idea in mind. I kind of like the traditional, like, red and green, but we could also try some sort of blue and white wintery colors. Or silver and gold, but that could look kind of dark in the ballroom, unless we got some lights. Oh, what about-”

She cut herself off as she looked up at Nico. Once again, his eyes were trained on his phone screen, as if she’d never said anything at all. Worst of all, there was a smile on his face, like the whole thing was amusing him.

Priya felt her mouth tighten into a line. Impulsively she snatched the papers from in front of him, quickly stuffing them into the folder.

“What are you doing?” 

She looked up, only to see Nico looking at her. He had the nerve to seem confused. 

“I’m going home,” she responded, gripping tightly to the folder as she stood, taking the long way around the table just so she didn’t have to step around him.

“You’re what?” Nico stood, following Priya as she left the room and began walking towards her desk. “Why? I was listening.”

“No, you weren’t!” she retorted sharply, finally turning around to face him. “I’m trying to get your opinions on this, because we’re supposed to be working together. Both of us. But instead you’re ignoring me, you just keep — texting your girlfriend, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m not texting my girlfriend,” Nico responded, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Then whoever it is! That’s not the point!” Priya groaned, running an exasperated hand through her hair. “The point is, I came here with ideas, and a checklist, and wanting to actually make this work. You show up late, which, fine, maybe you had something else to do, but then you turn down my ideas and you don’t even listen to me!”

“I told you, I was listening.”

“Were you? What was I just talking about, before I left?”

Nico opened his mouth, only for it to slowly shut. At the very least, he had the decency to look guilty over it.

“See? Exactly.” Priya sighed, beginning to walk backwards away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… take care of everything.”

“But-”

“You won’t get in trouble. I’ll tell Dougie you had something come up.” She turned around, not wanting to hear any excuses he would somehow come up with. “It’s totally fine.”

“Priya...”

She didn’t turn back, walking back towards her desk, noting a lack of footsteps behind her. 

Well, she thought. Maybe Christmas miracles are in short supply this year.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

The next afternoon found Priya bursting through the office doors, trying to speed-walk as fast as possible to her desk. Her class had gone on fifteen minutes longer than usual, meaning she’d had to book it to the office the moment her professor had finally dismissed them. It certainly didn’t help her bad mood. 

Not that she was in a bad mood. She was totally fine. Chipper, even. She definitely hadn’t spent yesterday evening on the phone to her best friend Jack, ranting about how immensely frustrating a certain coworker of theirs was in between mouthfuls of leftover pasta. And she surely hadn’t been awake until three in the morning, trying to brainstorm ideas on how to throw a company holiday party so unbelievably kick-ass that it made said coworker feel like a fool for not helping out. That was for someone who hadn’t put the entire situation behind them. Like Priya had.

Priya turned the corner, brushing some wayward hair out of her face, only to stop in her tracks. There, pacing in front of her desk, dark eyes trained on the floor, was Nico.

“What are you doing?” Priya asked before she could stop herself.

Nico’s head jerked up as he halted his pacing, as if he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t sensed her approach. “Oh. Um. Priya. Hi.”

“Hi,” Priya responded, trying to keep her voice even. (Not that there was any reason for it not to be. Because she wasn’t frustrated. At least, Nico didn’t need to know that she was.) “Any reason why you’re burning a line into the carpet?”

“Why I’m… what?” Nico asked, brow furrowed.

Priya sighed, crossing her arms. “Why are you at my desk? Don’t you have, like, computers to fix or something?”

“No. I mean, yes, I do, but…” Nico huffed out a breath, squaring his shoulders. “I wanted to apologize.”

Priya blinked over at him, trying to process the other’s words. “You what?”

“For yesterday. What happened.”

Letting out another sigh, Priya shook her head slightly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she muttered, moving past Nico to begin unpacking her bag.

“No, I-“

“If Dougie put you up to this, I’ll talk to him about it. I told him it wasn’t your fault.”

“Priya-”

“Listen, it’s totally fine,” Priya continued as she took out her lunch bag. “I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry-”

“Can I just talk for a second?” Nico interjected. Priya’s eyes flickered up, only to be met with a look of desperation she didn’t think she’d ever seen on the other. Her mouth shut before she could say anything else. 

Nico let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I — Dougie didn’t talk to me. I came by myself.”

Priya’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but she kept silent. 

“It wasn’t right of me to ignore you like that,” Nico continued, his deep brown eyes soft as they met hers. “You came in with all of these ideas, and I just shot yours down. And then I ignored you while you were trying to help. It was rude. You deserve better than that. So. I’m sorry.”

Priya’s face softened as Nico spoke. She’d never heard the other sound so genuine. “Oh,” she murmured. “Th-thank you for apologizing. I appreciate it. It’s, um, it’s totally fine.”

“Thank you for being understanding,” he countered, the barest hint of a smile crossing his face. 

“No, I mean, I get it,” she let out a breath, taking a seat at her desk. “Some people just don’t, like, get into the season. Not everyone likes Christmas.”

“I like Christmas,” Nico spoke up quickly, hands slipping into his pockets. “It’s just…” He sighed. “It’s hard, sometimes. To get into the, what is it called? Holiday spirit?”

Priya hummed in confirmation, keeping her lips pressed together as she studied Nico’s face. “Do you genuinely want to help?”

“What’s that?” Nico questioned.

“Do you really want to help me out with the party? Like, you don’t just want to apologize and pretend nothing happened. You actually want to plan it together.”

Nico nodded, looking deadly serious, as if the task at hand was a thesis paper and not some office holiday gathering. “Yes. I actually do.”

Ignoring the strange twinge in her chest at his expression, Priya grabbed a sticky note and pen, scrawling down her phone number. “Do you work weekends?”

“No. Sometimes I have practice on Saturdays, but always early in the morning. Otherwise, I’m not busy.”

“Fantastic. Sunday then.” She scribbled down an address, handing over the sticky note. “Meet me there at 10?”

Nico studied the note, nodding firmly. “Okay. I’ll be there.” He smiled, holding out his pinky. “Promise.”

Priya stared at his offered hand for a moment before it clicked. She reached over, linking their pinky fingers together. 

Nico gave her one last smile before walking off, still studying the note as he disappeared around the corner.

“Huh,” Priya hummed, shrugging slightly as she went to set up her laptop. It wasn’t until a few minutes had gone by that she realized she was still smiling.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Sunday morning came faster than Priya had expected, and she soon found herself sitting by one of the large windows in Woodland Coffee. The cafe was decked out in holiday cheer - there were stockings hung over the cozy fireplace, paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling, and soft piano covers of Christmas songs playing over the speakers. Still, Priya’s focus kept drifting back and forth between the front door and her phone, its clock reading 9:59. 

Maybe this was all a set up, Priya thought to herself, sighing quietly as she began to scroll Instagram. Maybe he thought it would be funny to get my hopes up again, and then —

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. She glanced up, only to see Nico rushing over to the table, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Hi,” he managed out, catching his breath as he unwound his scarf. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long. There was an accident on the main road, so I had to go around all these back streets, and I’m still not really used to the area —” 

“Hey,” Priya interrupted, holding up her hand. “It’s fine. It’s, like, 10:01. You’re not late.” 

Nico sighed in relief, smiling as he took off his hat, shaking out his hair. “This place is cute,” he commented, glancing around at all the decorations. “I don’t think I’ve been here before.”

“It’s my go-to,” Priya told him. “They’re a godsend around finals.”

“I’ll bet. What do you usually order?”

“Depends on the time of year. But their peppermint mocha is amazing.”

“Peppermint mocha, got it. Be right back.” Nico smiled, draping his jacket over the back of his chair before heading up to the counter. Priya found herself smiling back, pulling the red folder out of her bag.

Soon enough Nico returned, cautiously carrying two white mugs with red trim. “Here,” he nodded, lowering one of them in front of Priya’s seat. “Peppermint mocha, right?”

Priya’s eyes widened slightly. “I, um, yeah. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Nico shrugged, taking a seat across from her, a soft smile on his face. He took a small sip of his drink, humming to himself.

“Good?” she asked, smiling.

“Mm. Very good,” he nodded. He took another sip before he sat up straighter, going to root through his backpack. “So, um, I did look up a couple things…” Nico pulled out a manila folder, opening it on the table, only for a few dozen clippings to come spilling out. “Or, um, more than a few,” he admitted, cheeks slightly pink.

“Whoa,” Priya let out a laugh, though she met his eyes to make sure he knew it wasn’t a mocking one. “That’s… wow. This’ll be great to work off.”

Nico smiled back, gesturing towards her folder. “But I want to see yours too. I liked some of the pictures you had. The ones with the string lights over the windows?”

“Oh, uh…” Priya flipped through the pages quickly, taking out one to place on the table. “This one, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one,” Nico said. “But I was thinking, maybe we could make them white lights instead? It would look good with whatever colors we used.”

Priya looked over the photo, slowly nodding. “Yeah. I like that. Plus it’s sort of dark in there, from what I can tell, so it might be best to have the brightest ones possible.”

“Speaking of the room. I was looking over some of the photos, and I think…” Nico took out the page he was referring to, pointing to the picture. “We could put the tables downstairs, and maybe use the second floor for something else. I don’t know what, though.”

“I was thinking maybe a photo booth?” Priya suggested, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “Or, oh my god, what if we got one of the managers to dress up as Santa?”

Nico let out a laugh, dimples showing through as he threw his head back. “Yes. We have to,” he insisted, getting out a pen to scribble down the idea. “And we can get Dougie to be an elf, because he’s so tall.” 

Priya found herself laughing along with Nico. “I don’t know if there’s a pair of tights in the world that would fit him.”

“Oh, we’ll find some,” Nico grinned cheekily.

The hours flew by quickly after that. By the time the clock struck noon, the two had planned out the decorations, the entertainment, the food and drink, and everything they had to do in the next few weeks to get everything done. In truth, they probably could have wrapped up faster if they’d kept their focus entirely on the party. But Nico kept interjecting with jokes and questions about her, and, well, Priya would be rude if she didn’t respond in kind.

“So I know you like to read and listen to music,” Nico hummed with a smile, drinking from his third mocha of the day. “Do you like any sports?”

“Oh, yeah,” Priya nodded. “Baseball, football and hockey.”

“I love hockey,” Nico grinned. 

“Really?” she smiled, taking a sip of her own drink. “Do you play or just watch?”

“Oh, no, I play for my college. I used to play football too.”

“You did? You don’t seem the type,” Priya commented.

“Why — oh, you mean American football. No, um, soccer. They call it football in Switzerland.”

Priya raised her eyebrows. “I never knew you were from Switzerland.”

Nico laughed. “The accent didn’t give it away?” 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a Swiss accent before yours,” Priya countered with a smile. 

“That’s fair,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “But yes. Born and raised.” 

Nico’s face seemed to grow almost forlorn as he spoke, eyes growing distant. Priya’s brow furrowed.

“Do you-”

“So-”

The two of them laughed, Nico shaking his head.

“You go.”

“No, you go,” Priya prompted, taking another sip of her mocha.

“Just… you said that you like to read,” Nico murmured, fidgeting with a stray pen. “If I was… looking for a book, to get for someone. What would you think?”

Priya thought the question over, putting a hand under her chin. “That’s a hard one. It depends on what they’re interested in. Nonfiction, or the classics, or mysteries.”

“What about you?” Nico asked, draining the last of his coffee cup.

“I mean, I’ve always loved Jane Austen,” Priya told him. “Something about her writing just makes me feel… hopeful, I guess. Like love like that can really exist.” She blushed, setting down her cup. “I bet that sounds silly.”

Nico made a noise of disagreement, his dark eyes studying her. “I don’t think it does,” he told her. “I think it’s nice. To think that way.”

Priya smiled shyly, taking a final sip from her mug. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Nico smiled back, glancing down at his phone to check the time. “Oh, wow, it’s the middle of the afternoon. I should get going. But, um —” He stood, pulling on his coat. “You work all day on Tuesday, right?”

“No, Wednesdays and Fridays,” Priya offered, going to pack up her own belongings. 

“Okay, Wednesday then. On our lunch break. We can go out and grab some supplies?” Nico offered, putting away his folder. “Ask Dougie if we can steal a company credit card?”

Priya snickered, shaking her head. “I doubt that’ll happen. But, yeah, that sounds fun.” She was surprised at how much she genuinely meant it.

“Great.” Nico tore off a scrap of paper, writing something down and handing it over to Priya. “I’ll come by your desk at noon. Promise,” Nico smiled. He held out his pinky finger. This time, Priya knew to hook it with her own. 

“See you then!” Nico called as he left. He stopped right outside, then turned around, waving through the glass doors with a goofy grin.

Priya let out a laugh, waving back at him. As he walked off, she glanced down at the paper, finding a phone number with a smiley face drawn next to it. Though she didn’t know it, her own smile grew to match it.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

“What’s the difference between these?” Nico called, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Priya glanced up from her checklist, rolling the shopping cart over to where Nico was standing. Thankfully the aisles weren’t too full, given it was noon on a weekday. “Between what?”

“These,” he repeated, showing her two boxes of string lights. “They look the same.”

Priya studied the packaging, pointing to the one in Nico’s left hand. “I think this one is more of a warm white, like, tan almost. This one is cooler, almost blue.”

Nico looked between both packages, frowning as he did so. “I still don’t see a difference,” he admitted.

Priya giggled, taking a few boxes of the cooler lights and putting them into the cart, checking off the box on her list. “Okay, so that’s all set… I think all we need is the candy for the dessert table and we’ll be good to go.”

She’d come up with the idea when Jack had approached her, asking if he could bring something to represent Hanukkah to the holiday party. “I’m a horrible cook, but I’ve made jelly donuts a couple times and haven’t burned down the whole kitchen,” Jack had told her with a laugh. Something had clicked, and she’d quickly fired off a message to Nico, asking what he thought. Thankfully, he loved it.

Thus far, they’d had five sign-ups to bring homemade desserts — mini pies, gingerbread bars, peppermint bark fudge, snickerdoodles and Jack’s jelly donuts. Priya had already bought the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, though she wasn’t sure if eight dozen was too few.

She snapped out of her worries when she suddenly recognized Nico humming along to the store radio, making her laugh. “You like Mariah Carey?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Nico laughed sheepishly as they strolled through the store. “Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of Christmas music, but… I like this song. I like that it’s more about wishing for someone rather than something.”

“That’s sweet,” Priya smiled at him, heart fluttering slightly (though she couldn’t quite place why).

She thought over Nico’s words as they walked down the crafts aisle, glancing around at the crayons and construction paper. Suddenly she gasped, stopping in her tracks.

“What?” Nico asked, turning around with a worried expression.

“I just had an idea,” she rushed out, going to grab a pile of forest green construction paper. “What if we made a wishing tree? Like, we made a tree out of construction paper and hung it up on the wall, and we made little paper ornaments. And people could come over and write their holiday wishes on them, and hang them up on the tree?”

Nico froze for a moment, letting out a soft laugh. “You just came up with that?”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded, shoulders lowering as she looked over at him. “I — is it -”

“It’s brilliant,” Nico reassured her, eyes sparkling. “Beyond brilliant. I’m just — I’m surprised you came up with that so fast. But, yes. Definitely. We should.” He went to grab red and white construction paper, along with some colorful markers. “You’re really good at this.”

Priya blushed, shrugging slightly. “I mean, you gave me the idea.”

“I think Mariah Carey came up with it to begin with,” Nico joked, putting their supplies into the cart. “We should send her a thank-you gift.”

Priya laughed, walking alongside Nico as he took over cart-pushing duties. “Speaking of gifts, have you bought all of yours yet? I’m still trying to figure out what to get my parents.”

Nico didn’t reply. Priya looked over, only to see his jaw tightened, the same forlorn expression on his face from when they’d talked about his home at the coffee shop.

“Oh, does — does your family not do gifts?”

“No, they… they do,” Nico told her, voice low. “Just… they’re all back home. My family, I mean. They’re all in Switzerland. So it would… it would take a while for any gifts to get to them.”

“Oh.” Priya stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. “Well, I mean, you can give them the next time you visit, right? A late gift is still a gift.”

“I don’t know when that will be,” Nico admitted. “Plane tickets are expensive. And there’s still work, and school… it’s hard to find time to talk to anyone back home, let alone go and see them.”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded, biting her inner lip. It makes sense why he wasn’t into planning this, she thought, with everyone far away. “So, um… when you are home, for Christmas. What’s it like? In Switzerland? Is it much different from here?”

“I’ve only celebrated Christmas here once, and it was just with a few friends from the team,” Nico told her with a slight shrug. “But at home, we don’t set up the tree early like you guys do sometimes. The parents decorate it the night before Christmas Eve, and in the morning you come downstairs and see it. They used to tell us the elves did it.” He let out a laugh. “And then we usually have ham and raclette. Like, melty cheese, with potatoes. And my mom will make spitzbuben.”

“Spitzbuben,” she repeated with a slight laugh. “I like that word.”

“It’s like, um… jam cookies,” Nico told her after a moment’s thought. “They’re always so good.”

Priya’s face lit up as she nudged Nico’s arm. “You should make them for the party!”

“Me?” Nico asked, eyes widening. “Oh, no, I — I’m terrible at making food.”

“I can help you out,” she told him. “Ask your mom for the recipe. You can come over when I’m making the chocolate chip ones. Tackle them together.”

Nico’s smile slowly grew as he nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Priya smiled back, her chest hit with that same strange feeling as earlier. Shaking her head slightly to reset herself, she cleared her throat. “So, when do you give the gifts?”

“Oh, um, not… not on actual Christmas,” Nico told her, running a hand through his hair as they approached the food section. “Samichlaus — that’s what we call Santa. He comes on the 6th of December.”

“Really?” Priya asked. She was about to turn down the candy aisle when a realization hit her, making her stop in her tracks.

“Priya?” Nico asked, voice suddenly filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered after a moment. “Yeah, I… I’m really sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Nico questioned, hands in his jean pockets. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, I…” she sighed. “December 6th. That was the day we met, right? I mean… when we had our first meeting. About the party.”

Nico nodded slightly, face still reading confusion.

“You — I was so mad because you weren’t paying attention to me,” Priya sighed, guilt pooling in her stomach. “But you… you were probably texting your family, right?”

Nico was silent as she spoke, slowly nodding again. “Yeah. Yeah, my… my family was sending me messages. And some of my friends from back home.”

“God, Nico,” Priya whispered, letting out a sigh. “You could have said something. I would have understood.”

“I thought it was silly,” Nico confessed after a moment. “To be sad about missing something so… childish.”

“It’s not silly if it means something to you,” Priya told him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “I should have asked.”

Nico nodded slightly, meeting her eyes. “I should have said something. Or at least, not been so much of a jerk to you.”

“You weren’t a jerk-”

“No, I was. I didn’t — I took my feelings out on you. I didn’t want to even think about Christmas, and you had all these great ideas, and you were so happy about it… it wasn’t right of me to act how I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Priya sighed, slowly lowering her arm to wrap around her waist. 

“You don’t have to be,” Nico told her, this time raising his hand to pat her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ve done so much. And your ideas are incredible.”

Priya let out a shy laugh. “I try.”

“I’m glad you do,” Nico smiled, patting her shoulder once more before turning back to the cart. “Come on. We can get some candy for the drive home too.”

Priya smiled back. “Well, I mean, if you insist.”

“I do,” Nico grinned, the two of them making their way down the aisle.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Priya tightened her jacket around herself, shivering as she stepped out of the grocery store into the blustery air. When she’d gone shopping for supplies for her and Nico’s baking session, she’d thought a dozen eggs would be enough for the chocolate chip and Swiss Jam cookies. What she hadn’t counted on was burning the first batch of chocolate chip, then struggling with separating the yolk from the white for the spitzbuben, then Nico tripping and dropping two of the eggs onto the kitchen floor.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get them?” Nico had asked, trying to mop up the splattered mess. “I feel bad sending you out into the cold.”

“It’s fine. There’s a store, like, two blocks from here. It won’t take me long,” Priya promised him, giggling internally at the kicked-puppy look of guilt he wore. “Just make sure the ones in the oven now don’t get burnt.” 

Now that Priya was thinking it over, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to leave someone she’d only known for a few weeks alone in her apartment.  Particularly not someone who, before they’d started planning together, she’d been sure held some sort of personal vendetta against her. But things had changed. Nico was still quiet at times, but always in a way she could tell was considerate of the world around him. His eyes held the same intensity, but it no longer scared her away. There were still those instances of strange fluttering in her chest from time to time, but Priya refused to focus on those. Not while there was still so much to do before the party.

As Priya pressed the call button to cross the street, she suddenly noticed a collection of bright lights to her left. A row of booths had been set up along the sidewalk in a miniature Christmas market, with a dozen or so shoppers meandering between the string-lit tents. She could see some children stepping away from one with paper cups of hot chocolate and cider.

Priya glanced down at her phone to check the time, shrugging slightly. Though she’d gotten almost all her holiday shopping done, it couldn’t hurt to poke around. Besides, if nothing else, maybe she could bring Nico back some hot drinks to share.

She ducked her head entering the first tent, seeing it filled with fuzzy scarves and gloves. Reaching her free hand up to stroke the fabrics, mindful of her grocery bag, she walked further in, seeing a collection of multicolored, handknit beanies. They reminded her of Nico, she thought with a slight laugh. He’d worn the same black winter hat every time she’d seen him the past month. 

Maybe he could use a new one, she thought. Would he like the red, or — 

Priya paused in surprise at herself, pulling her hand back from the display. She hadn’t been planning on buying Nico a gift. They weren’t close like that — or were they now? They’d spent almost every day together since their shopping trip, sitting at the same lunch table and working on crafting the wish tree display. But that was just because of the party, wasn’t it? Once it had passed, they wouldn’t be attached to each other like they were now. Then again, more often than not their conversations had drifted away from planning, to music and sports and funny stories from each others’ pasts. She didn’t want that part to end. She — she liked Nico.

Biting her lip, head still spinning from the revelation, Priya turned away from the hat display, instead studying a glass display table of different jewelry. Her eyes scanned over the different earrings and bracelets, only to stop once they caught sight of a necklace. Hanging from black cord was a small gold-colored coin, two intertwining flowers etched into the metal.

“You like it?” 

Priya’s head jerked up, only to meet a smiling older woman in a purple headscarf. “It’s edelweiss.”

“Edelweiss?” Priya repeated, eyes returning to the necklace. 

“Yes. A flower that grows in the Alps,” the woman told her. “Very popular in those countries. Austria, Romania, Switzerland.”

Priya’s heart jolted in her chest, studying the coin, the way the flowers’ stems wrapped around one another.

“How — how much?”

A few minutes later, Priya carefully opened the front door of her apartment, two large cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“There you are,” Nico sighed, relief clear on his face as he made his way to the front door. “I was about to call you. Did you get caught up in something?”

“Just thought I’d stop for these,” Priya shrugged, handing over one of the cups to him. 

“Oh, wow. Thanks,” Nico smiled at her, his dimples clear as he took the grocery bag as well. “You’re the best.”

Priya let out a shy laugh. She glanced up towards Nico, watching as he walked back into the kitchen and ran a hand through his dark hair. He really is handsome, she thought. And sweet. And passionate. And —

“Priya?” Nico called, making her snap out of her thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yep! Yeah, sorry. Give me one second,” she smiled over at him. She turned to hang up her coat by the door, taking just a moment to reach into her pocket, running her fingers over the small crimson gift box. 

Not tonight, she thought. But soon. Probably. Maybe.

Taking a deep breath, Priya turned back towards Nico, smiling wide. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

The date of the Christmas party finally arrived. Priya had spent most of the day setting up the ballroom with Nico, securing the decorations and making sure the caterers had everything they needed. A few times she’d glanced over at Nico, a confession she wasn’t sure how to phrase on the top of her tongue, but she’d always swallowed it back. If she was going to completely embarrass herself in front of a cute boy, she was going to do it right. 

After a well-deserved nap, Priya had gotten to work preparing herself for the party. Instead of her usual uniform of sweatpants and a hoodie, she’d decided on one of her nicest outfits: a knee-length, deep green sparkly dress with long sleeves, paired with silver flats. She’d done her hair in a low bun, securing it with a velvet green bow, romantic tresses framing her face. She kept her makeup basic, but made sure to use her favorite red lipstick, double checking to make sure none had gotten on her teeth.

Priya did a spin in front of her bedroom mirror, smiling at herself. It wasn’t too often she got a chance to dress up — a fact she was largely grateful for — but it was still fun when the moment came.

Grabbing her handbag, her eyes drifted over to the burgundy jewelry box, still sitting atop her dresser. Was it even a good idea to give it? Would it be overstepping? What if he thought it was cheesy? What if it made him miss home even more? What if —

A knock on the door made Priya’s head jolt up, brow furrowed. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. Before she could think better of it, she grabbed the box, shoving it into her bag.

“Coming!” she called, making her way down the hallway to open the front door.

Standing there, in a deep red shirt and black tie, was Nico. “Hi,” he managed out, his voice sounding shyer than Priya could ever remember it. 

“Hi,” Priya responded, her voice soft to match his.

Nico looked Priya up and down, his cheeks pale pink. “You, um… you look beautiful.”

Priya’s own cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she smiled shyly. “You look nice too. Very handsome.”

“Thanks.” Nico bit his lip, moving his hands from behind his back, handing out a bouquet of white and red flowers. “I… these are for you.”

Priya felt her heart leap as she took the bouquet, inhaling the sweet aroma. “Garden roses,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “I love them. How did you know?”

“I, um, I might’ve asked Jack,” Nico admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just… you’ve been so great with everything, and… I wanted to thank you.”

Priya smiled, stepping forward to pull Nico into a hug. She could feel him tense in surprise for a moment, only to wrap his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. He smelled like warmth, and cinnamon, and the slightest bit of pine. She could already imagine herself getting addicted.

“Thank you,” Priya murmured into his shirt, closing her eyes for a moment. “You’re… you’re wonderful. Really.”

“I try,” Nico let out a soft laugh.

After a few seconds too long, Priya forced herself to pull away, shyly laughing. “I’ll, um, I’ll go put these in water.”

“Yeah,” Nico nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, no worries.”

Priya had gotten only a few steps away when a thought hit her, making her turn to face him. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you’d be at the party.”

“I am. I mean, I’m going. I just thought, maybe I could drive you. If you don’t have other plans.”

Priya smiled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’d love that.” She put the flowers onto the kitchen counter, making her way back to the doorway. “Jack said he’d drive me home, but I’ll just tell him to meet me there.”

“You sure?” Nico raised his eyebrows worriedly. “You don’t have to. I mean — I should have asked you first —”

“Nico. It’s fine,” Priya reassured him. “I want to go with you.”

Nico’s smile practically lit up her insides as he nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He offered his arm, putting on a slightly goofy formal voice. “Shall we, my lady?”

“We shall, good sir,” she giggled, taking his arm as they made their way outside.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Even though she’d spent most of the day setting up for the party, Priya still found herself unprepared by how beautiful the ballroom had ended up. From her spot on the second floor balcony, she could watch the string lights glow, illuminating the smiling faces of the people below. She spied one of the tech heads, Miles, dressed up in a full Santa suit, taking photos with the marketing team. The playlist she and Nico had crafted was playing softly through the speakers, adding a pleasant hum to the whole scene. Somehow, everything had worked out.

Priya gazed over the crowd, only for her eyes to stop on a familiar face. Nico smiled at her from his place near the dessert table, motioning her down. She grinned back, nodding quickly as she made her way downstairs, carefully maneuvering around the guests.

“Hey,” she smiled, nudging Nico with her elbow. 

“Hey.” Nico let out a soft sigh, glancing around at the crowd. “We pulled it off.”

“I know,” Priya sighed with him. “Is it weird to say I’m proud of us?”

Nico glanced over, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think it’s weird. Not at all.”

Priya’s eyes softened as she nudged him again. “Then I am. I’m proud of us. And you.”

“Me?” Nico laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah, you. I know it wasn’t the easiest thing for you, but… you really stepped up. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Well, I couldn’t have even gotten started without you,” Nico pointed out. “So. I’m proud of you, too.”

Their eyes met, the rest of the world seeming a distant blur.

“Nico-”

“Hey-”

They both laughed.

“You first,” Nico gestured towards her.

“No, no, it’s fine. You go,” she nodded.

“Just, I have to head out pretty soon,” Nico admitted, scratching the back of his head. 

Priya frowned slightly. “Oh. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no, stay and have fun. You’ve earned it,” Nico assured her, patting her shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know. Jack said he could drive you back, right? So you won’t be walking in the cold?”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded after a moment. “Yeah, no, I’ll just have to go find him.”

“Okay.” Nico smiled. A few seconds of silence passed between them. Priya bit her cheek, feeling her heart begin to pound in her chest.

Without warning, Nico stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. Priya closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him, letting out a deep sigh. 

Eventually they pulled apart, Nico’s smile seeming to have a tinge of melancholy to it. “See you around,” he nodded.

“I — yeah. See you around,” she forced out, managing a smile. Priya let herself watch for just a moment as Nico made his way through the crowd. Then, straightening her shoulders, she turned around, beginning to search the room for Jack.

She found him not too far away, chatting with Dougie. “Hey, Prius!” Jack grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Did you have one of the donuts yet?”

“Not yet,” Priya admitted, laughing as she pulled apart. “But soon.”

“Amazing job with the party, Priya,” Dougie nodded.

Priya shrugged modestly. “It would’ve been better if we could have found you an elf costume that fit.”

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Dougie laughed, Jack chuckling along with him. “You know, I have to say, I wasn’t sure at first when Nico came to me asking to work with you. But you guys really came together.”

Priya’s eyes widened slightly. “He what?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” Dougie’s brow furrowed. “He came to me begging for me to put you on party planning with him. I knew you could handle it, but I always thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We didn’t,” Priya managed out, voice hitching. “Can you, um… will you excuse me a sec?”

Without waiting for an answer, Priya walked away, her head spinning. This whole time, she’d thought that she and Nico had been thrown together by some twist of fate, or that Dougie had wanted to minimize the tension between them. Nico had really asked for her? Why?

Priya was drawn out of her thoughts just enough to stare at the wishing tree she and Nico had assembled. It wasn’t too full yet, with only a few red and white baubles attached to the construction paper tree. Almost instantly, though, her eyes were drawn towards one particular ornament, with handwriting that felt all too familiar.

I wish I could tell her how I really feel.

Her heart stopped in her chest. Everything seemed to stop; the world became a blur. Before another thought crossed her mind, Priya found herself rushing out of the ballroom, hurrying as fast as she could towards the parking lot. Thankfully, there was still a figure standing outside of his car, wearing a familiar black winter hat.

“Nico!” Priya cried, running towards him. “Nico, wait!”

Nico turned around, brows drawn tightly together as he noticed her. “Priya? What are you doing out here? Can Jack not-”

“Be… be quiet for a second,” Priya told him, catching her breath as she finally approached the car.

“Priya, I don’t -”

“What did your wish mean?”

Nico’s brow furrowed further. “What wish?”

“The one you wrote on the tree,” Priya clarified, crossing her arms. “You said… you said you wish you could tell someone how you really feel. What does that mean?”

Nico’s eyes widened, a guilty expression taking over his face. “That — I — I didn’t think you would know that was mine.”

“I know your handwriting by now,” Priya pointed out. 

There was a beat of silence before she sighed.

“I don’t — I don’t get it. You hate me. Or you — you did hate me. Why-”

“I never hated you,” Nico murmured.

“Then why did you always stare me down? Why wouldn’t you just talk to me?”

He let out a soft sigh, staring down at the pavement. “I was scared,” he confessed. “You were so… so beautiful, and smart. And you just… you lit up the room every time you walked in. And I was just this… this boy who barely spoke English, and I was so afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

Priya’s face softened, her arms drifting down to her side. “Is that why you asked Dougie to work with me?”

Nico winced for a moment at having been found out, but slowly nodded. “I thought… it would be an excuse to get to know you better. And to spend more time with you. And I messed it up, because I was too in my own head. But you gave me a second chance, and…” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced up to meet her eyes, his own dark and anxiety-filled. “I know it… it sounds foolish. But I thought…”

“Nico,” Priya whispered, stepping forward. Biting her lip, she quickly rustled through her bag, handing over the jewelry box.

Nico’s brow furrowed. “What… what is this?”

“It’s for you. For Christmas.”

Nico slowly removed the lid, carefully removing the necklace. “Edelweiss,” he whispered in awe, turning to look at her.

“I got it a few days ago,” Priya confessed, her cheeks pink. “I just… I thought of you. And I thought of… how sweet you are, and how supportive you’ve been, and how easy it is for you to make me laugh. And I-”

“Priya.”

Nico stepped forward, slowly closing the gap between them. Priya’s heart raced as he reached his hand up to cup her cheek. “Priya,” he repeated softly, before leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.

Priya felt her chest burst open, moving to wrap her arms around his neck. She’d never imagined a kiss in a freezing cold parking lot could feel so perfect.

Nico was smiling when he finally pulled away, his eyes sparkling. “Wow,” he let out a short laugh.

“Wow,” Priya repeated, a giggle rising in her throat. 

Nico leaned in once again, only to be interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. “Damnit,” he cursed, quickly pulling it out. “That’ll be Jonas.”

“Jonas?” she asked, hands still on his shoulders. 

“My friend from Switzerland,” he told her. “I… after we talked about it, I went online and got a flight home. I’m leaving tonight.”

“Oh,” Priya gasped, her eyes wide. She pulled her hands away, shoving at him gently. “Oh my god, then, go, go! Don’t miss your flight!”

“Wait, wait,” Nico laughed, grabbing at her hands to hold them. “I have something for you first.”

“What?” Priya asked, a wide smile still on her face. 

“One second.” Nico quickly turned around, opening the back door of his car, pulling out a box wrapped in royal blue paper. “For you,” he offered with a smile.

“Nico,” Priya grinned. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“I wanted to,” Nico countered. “Besides, you got me something.”

“But that was just something small, and you already got me flowers-”

“You’re going to make me miss my flight,” Nico teased, smirking.

Sighing, Priya carefully removed the paper, only to let out a gasp. “Is this… you got me the entire Jane Austen collection?”

“I noticed you didn’t have any on your shelves at your apartment,” he shrugged sheepishly. “And I… I got a set for myself too. Not as nice as those, but I thought… Maybe we could read them together. See what gives you, what was it… hope? For love?”

Priya’s heart fluttered as she placed the books on the hood of Nico’s car, throwing her arms around him again. “I love them. Thank you so much,” she whispered.

“Of course. And thank you. For everything,” Nico whispered back, turning his face so he could kiss her cheek.

The sound of a phone buzzing made them both groan, though they giggled as they pulled apart. 

“I really should get going,” Nico sighed, handing Priya back her book collection. “I fly back on the 2nd of January. Can we — can we talk then, maybe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Priya smiled. “And I have your phone number, so I can FaceTime you. If you want.”

“I’ll always want to see you,” Nico admitted, smiling shyly.

Priya pulled Nico into another kiss, her hand venturing up to stroke a thumb over his cheek. “January 2nd,” she whispered as she pulled apart.

“January 2nd,” he nodded, holding out his pinky finger. She quickly looped hers with his, cheeks flushing red as he leaned down to kiss her knuckles.

“I’ll see you then,” Nico smiled. “Merry Christmas, Priya.”

“Merry Christmas, Nico.”

One more hug, one more kiss, and then he was off, car disappearing into the night.

Priya watched him go, feeling warmer than she’d ever felt. Quickly she took out her phone, moving towards her calendar app. Eleven days, she thought. I can make it that long. 

Slipping her phone back into her bag, Priya let out a blissful sigh. She glanced down at the books in her hand, stroking a finger over the spines, before she began to make her way back towards the ballroom.

I guess I was right, she thought with a smile. Miracles really do happen all the time.

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #nico hischier fic #my writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction

[ihearttweek]

creek smut | rough sex | but ultimately super sappy, they’re in love

formatted version on ao3 : here

5k :3

tweek was pretty fucking fed up with this.

he stood tiredly, and very much– aggravated ( for a lack of a better word ), in the doorway of their office. it was originally just another bedroom, barely, it was barely bordering on the size of someone’s closet. craig worked languidly at his laptop, groaning into his palms.

because unlike tweek, he’s a notorious procrastinator. he wasn’t in top of his shit 24/7 like he is. it takes him all the way up until receiving a very passive aggressive email from one of his classmates to get his shit together and bullshit his way through another assignment.

well, one of the perks of being decently smart is that he half-assed well enough to always pass. but, still not smart enough to take account of deadlines. he’d spend days giving it a ; “good look over”, as he called it, and the other small part actually doing it.

the sound of metal clinking brought him up out of his hands, looking over his shoulder and swiveling his chair back. tweek. tweek was stirring a mug full of tea for himself, and carried another, hooking his fingers of the same hand into the handle. craig lazily smiled.

“hey, babe,” he motioned for tweek to come closer. he did not. “sleep well?”

tweek humph-ed at him, resting a hand onto his hip. very straightforwardly, he said “fuck you.” craig’s smile dropped. he furrowed his brows at him.

“what?” despite this, tweek still came to set craig’s tea onto the desk. craig pat his hip in appreciation, but tweek shimmied away from him. this was very confusing, too many mixed signals. “baby, what’s the matter?”

“you keep leaving me lonely all night, man.” tweek mumbled in annoyance. craig grabbed for him, but tweek refused to budge. “you can’t keep doing this shit,” he gestured to the chair, his hands moving more furiously while he talked. common signs of a pissed off tweek. craig was a little intimidated. “‘cause you complain about your back hurting and shit. and being tired. and i fucking miss you.”

craig frowned. “‘m not doin’ it on purpose, honey, i’m sorry.” but tweek just huffed at him indignantly. “don’t be like this. please.” tweek gave him an unwavering stare for a solid few seconds. until, finally, he sighed aloud.

craig got hopeful. “whatever,” the bite behind it stung, and that hope was soon gone, that just made it worse. tweek turned harshly to leave, but craig made grabby-hands for him like a toddler. tweek stayed in the doorway again. “what do you want?” he sounded frustrated, his voice nearly breaking. he wasn’t as angry as he was just plain upset.

“for you to lose the fucking attitude?” craig shot back instantly. whoops. tweek turned back again, more erratically and fueled. “wait- fuck,” tweek, by some grace of god, turned back.

the undeniable sadness in his eyes just made craig ache. he extended out his leg a bit, patting his thigh for tweek to sit. “stay with me?”

“i don’t want to watch you do this all day again.” his fingers clutched at the doorframe. craig let out a shaky sigh, putting out his hands sort of just feeling defeated. tweek prodded him with a look, he quirked his brow at him expectantly. craig sighed again.

“i don’t know.” he said. tweek stood there a little longer, letting his arms fall loosely at his sides.

eventually, he trudged over to accept craig’s invite into his lap. craig’s arms were promptly around him , seeking contact from his body– he was worried, sue him. a small kiss was placed into his blonde hair, but tweek dropped his head and ultimately avoided it. craig was, now, even more crushed.

“tweek.” he persisted. tweek gave a short whine. his body was trembling, this could mean nothing good. this meant tweek was already pushed past saving him from a breakdown. this meant craig was in trouble. he was fucked. craig’s insides just coiled further. “come on. stop this.”

“stop what?” tweek said petulantly. craig brushed his fingers along his shoulder, and tweek was squirming. but craig wasn’t planning on just letting him go. tweek gave a few meager inept punches to his shoulder. craig only held him tighter to his chest.

tweek, subsequently, just gave up. his ultimately smaller body had no use fighting out of his resilient hold. he slumped into his arms instead. “talk to me, baby.” craig murmured. “please?”

it didn’t take long for a sob to tear through tweek. his shoulders shook with effort, hiccuping weakly. “you don’t want me anymore.” his voice was so small and pitiful.

“what?” craig sputtered. “tweek, you’re insane.”

tweek persisted. “you don’t. you don’t spend time with me. you don’t love me,” craig shushed him from delving into his mantra, but that only seemed to frustrate him worse.

“don’t, baby. please,” craig’s hands clung to tweek’s sweater for comfort.

“i miss us.” tweek continued.

“babe,”

“you don’t come lay with me anymore.”

“tweek.”

“you don’t love me like you used to. you don’t even touch me like you used to.”

“honey,”

“you didn’t eat with me last night, even.” tweek cried into his chest. “you barely kiss me. we haven’t had sex in weeks, craig.”

craig cupped his face, firmly. “tweek.” tweek stopped. he just sniffled. “stop it.” he lifted tweek by the chin to face him, swiping a tear from his cheek. tweek’s frown deepened. “you’re horribly wrong, i still love you, babe. it’s not your fault.” he leaned in to gently peck his lips, but tweek dodged it.

“you’re an asshole.” tweek weakly punched into craig’s chest again. and, craig let him. “i hate you right now.” well, there was a ‘right now’ bit, at least.

craig held him again, tweek writhing and fighting against him. “i know.” he sighed. “i’m sorry. it’s got nothing to do with you. i wanna fix this, but you have to let me.” it took a little for tweek to still his fists. he looked defeated, now.

a few beats of silence. the tension was palpable, and craig despised it. “okay?” he tried.

tweek slumped further into him, his nose smushed into his chest. “i don’t know what to say.” craig brought him back up to look at him. craig kissed his temple, and tweek actually let him this time around.

“stay with me, please? we can watch something. do you wanna watch something?” craig soothed tweek’s scalp, slowly twisting at the strands of his hair.

tweek diminished into his hand. “nuh uh,” he murmured almost childishly.

“what do you wanna do?” he didn’t say anything for a little, and tweek began to shift up out of his lap silently. “babe?”

“i’m tired,” he persisted on trying to get up. craig still was firm. “i want to go to bed.”

“i’ll come with you,” craig reached a hand out for his laptop to tilt the screen about 45 degrees. tweek snatched at his wrist.

“no.”

“no?”

“no. we can talk later.” by that, it meant tweek would go wallow away for the entire day. and once it sank in again, he’d be more agitated than now. and that sort of levels is good for nobody involved.

tweek was just plain being petty now. craig was not having it.

he grabbed tweek’s chin again, stroking his jaw. “stop.” craig gave him a hard glare that made tweek stiffen. it gave him full body chills. “quit fighting me.”and he slowly captured his lips in a fervent kiss. so much so it made tweek whimper against his lips.

and, tweek was kissing back pretty much instantaneously.

craig was pouring every last bit of all of his emotions into it, clutching tweek’s jaw and carding his fingers into tweek’s hair. craig forgot how good it felt to make out with his boyfriend. tweek was sucking at his bottom lip like a fucking leech, lapping his tongue around his mouth and making small mewls into it which craig happily swallowed into the back of his throat. he has really missed this.

craig ran his hands down his body, caressing his back. their teeth were clicking, missing each others lips, bumping noses and saliva pooling. it felt like they were inexperienced teenagers again. where it felt it was fueled by the anticipatory, perfervid hunger, and excitement of having close contact with each other.

and yeah, hormones, too. craig was, now, also helplessly horny, and tweek wasn’t helping any. the want to hold onto his body was now mixed with the need to hold his body down and fuck into him for the rest of the morning.

his lips were quickly coaxing tweek to sag into him, breathing hard out his nose. craig felt it tickle the skin of his cheek. tweek’s shaking hands found purchase in the fabric of craig’s sweats, pinching and pulling. his petty demeanor was being melded away at, his fingernails digging into craig’s thighs and gently rocking his hips into him. the slightest bit of affection given, and tweek would be all his.

and thinking back to what tweek was upset about; yeah, craig came up empty in trying to recount the last time he truly paid any kind of this attention towards him. it explained his eagerness. ( both of theirs, truthfully. ) tweek was missing getting kissed goodnight. getting held in craig’s arms to help him sleep. all of that, obviously, but he was also missing out on an overdue satisfying pounding.

he was being deprived, unfairly. he likes to think he has every right to be this greedy straight of the bat. sometimes, he just wants dick, dammit. that’s fair.

craig was the first to pull back, quick to move down to his neck and press wet, messy kisses to any exposed skin. he toyed with the hem of his sweater, before insistently tugging on it. “take your fucking clothes off.” he mumbled into tweek’s ear, giving it a quick nip as he yanked his boyfriend closer, curling one arm under tweek’s waist and bracing him back onto the desk behind them, pressing his back flat into it.

tweek didn’t exactly process it all that quick, instead mewling in surprise. “now.” he urged hastily. when tweek finally acquiesced it, craig was already shoving it off his body himself and discarding it off to the floor. he was wasting no time. craig was usually slow with him.

with tweek’s torso being exposed, craig dropped his head to his neck again, nipping at his skin briskly, rubbing circles into his prominent hipbones. tweek’s body twitched needily, ankles locking around craig’s body, hand clutching to the top of the desk for leverage. craig worked his teeth into his pale skin, glistening already with a light sheen of sweat, utterly fixated on marking the entire expanse of his flesh.

craig finally trailed from the of fragile skin of tweek’s protruding collarbone to the base of his sternum. he lingered there long enough to inhale deeply through his nose, gaze flickering up to tweek’s face. so pretty, and already ruined. bringing a hand up from tweek’s hip, he deliberately flicked over his nipple with his thumb. tweek unconsciously kicked out a leg and let out a strained, strangled sob, shivering in oversensitivity already.

craig gave a few more hard periods of his sinking his teeth into various parts of his shallow stomach, relishing in how his muscles twitched. he alternated between his nipples for a minute or so, and then tapped his side, signaling for him to turn over. but tweek just mewled dumbly, brain already scrambled. craig stopped touching him, which made tweek cry out again. some tears wet tweek’s bottom lashes as he wailed from the sudden loss of contact.

“huh?” tweek whimpered. craig simply just chose to grab him firmly by his hips, manhandling him and maneuvering him over. craig pushed his knee under him to hold him up momentarily, tweek’s body becoming easily pliable for craig to meld. craig gave an appreciative slap to his thigh, hooking his fingers into the waistband of tweek’s boxers and pulling them to just about half past his thighs. craig caressed the back of one, his hand almost big enough to cover the entire circumference of it. he smirked, pleased with himself to feel how hard tweek’s legs were already trembling.

with his other hand, he spread open tweek’s ass. digging into the soft flesh firmly, appreciating his body. he’s a bony little thing, sure, but he’s got an ass on him. tweek wriggled his hips back to obediently present himself to craig, peeking back behind his shoulder to look at him.

craig took a few more seconds to salivate over him, and then clapped the side of it appreciatively. it elicited an obscenely loud slap, making tweek flinch on impact, eyes fluttering closed and jaw clenching. what was left behind was a pink handprint. craig smiled a bit, pleased with himself.

“craig,” tweek mewled, gyrating his hips back over craig’s knee. craig huffed, getting to his knees, hands holding tweek against the desk firmly. he didn’t hesitate to sink his fucking teeth into him. after a series of fruitless kicks of protest from tweek, craig just continued, leaving harsh marks right into him. eating his ass, literally, if you will. no? alright.

no matter how hard tweek tried to pull away, craig wouldn’t let him. tweek did enjoy the sensation of craig’s large, calloused hands caressing his sides and his thumbs pressing harshly into his spine. craig began to slide his tongue over him, too, and tweek groaned in satisfaction. he reached one of his own hands back to hold into craig’s hair, gripping hard into the curls and twisting his fingers through them.

much too focused on the task at hand, craig’s tongue was everywhere now, lapping over every part of tweek’s ass. except, he was diligently neglecting his hole. tweek let out another squeal. craig had the urge to give grace for what he was being presented, tweek was fucking unreal. mentally laughing in his mind, he did. he’s a good religious boy at heart, his mother would be proud.

gracias señor por estos alimentos. he stared at how tweek 's soft, pretty cock was weeping cum onto the desk. y bendice las manos que los prepararon ( not really, fuck his parents.) taking note of the fact the he was completely fucking shaven. how long had he’d been anticipating this? amen. releasing a hand from tweek’s side, craig gently cupped his balls, gradually applying pressure with his fingertips and then pinching softly at the skin of his perineum.

tweek was twitching too hard to make it really easy, and craig was only teasing. he wasn’t going out of his way to pay attention to what he really wanted craig to. craig was usually the insistently giving type, but not now. craig could be petty, too.

once he pulled back from him, the scene displayed out was rewarding. overwhelmingly so. tweek had red and purpling teeth marks all over his milky, supple skin. they’d be there for a while, and them bruising would have to hurt, craig supposed. he reminded himself mentally to make sure to give tweek a lot more extra kisses and a nice, sympathetic back rub after this. he would need it. and maybe dinner, too.

he instinctively went to kiss the weltering marks, gently pecking a few. to be a little nicer, he looped an arm under tweek’s body and wrapped his fingers around tweek’s cock. he was aching already. he gave a few gentle tugs, and rolled his thumb around the pink slit. with his free hand, he tugged on the back of tweek’s head by his hair, forcing his head up. he leaned over to meet his ear, sucking at it before grunting.

“you’re so eager for me, hmm?” tweek nodded absentmindedly. “you want this so bad don’t you? such a good fucking boy.”

with the combination of the previous stimulation from grinding over craig’s knee, and this, it sent tweek spasming quickly, crying loudly with sobs racking his body as he came into craig’s hand right on the words. quick, thick spurts covered his fingers and a few stray drops landed onto the desk beneath him. craig grinned puckishly, tenaciously working his thumb on the swollen tip for a prolonged amount of time.

“craig, nghh, please, please,” he sobbed, he sounded wrecked. his raspy, shaky cries stirred all of craig’s insides up. craig didn’t let up, not until tweek’s muscles clamped so hard that his legs locked tight. in the darkened screen of craig’s laptop, he could see the reflection of tweek’s blissed out face. brows knitted together, eyes glazed over and brimming with tears, mouth slack. completely just, perfect.

he looked like he was on some kind of high, his drained out eyes were fixated now, looking straight into craig’s soul. his eyes are so fucking alluring, it’s downright unfair. ( and cruel, honestly, his dick could barely keep up. ) tweek was a fucking beautiful mess. his entire body was trembling and quivering, craig wanted to fold him over and fuck into his smaller frame until he broke. fucking christ, he looked good like this.

craig didn’t plan on giving him any pity for being pretty, however. craig used the middle finger of his left hand, dripping with tweek’s cum, to gently trace a circle around his pink, exposed hole. just on the outside of the puckered ring, not quite able to penetrate him more than just with the tip of his finger. tweek whimpered, another feeble cry tearing through him. tears spilling and running down his flushed cheeks, temple gleaming with sweat, drips of spit hanging off his bottom lip. sweat soaked his hair and it matted against his forehead. so sensitive without even getting properly fucked yet.

craig was instantly slamming open a drawer within the desk looking for anything to use as lube. there weren’t many options. tweek’s needy little noises were being drowned out by the sound of useless clattering. there was a small vat of unscented hand lotion. would have to do. another mental reminder to make tweek something decent for breakfast, too. and watch house hunters with him.

craig unscrewed the lid and slicked up his index, middle, and ring fingers. it was thick, and cold. he slid his middle finger inside of tweek, using the lotion as lubrication. he got it down to about his knuckle, tweek was sucking him in. he was fucking tight. that both intimidated him and aroused him. it felt like his dick was nearly swollen with arousal already, pulsing and throbbing within the constraints of his clothes. tweek was too short for him to really be able to reach craig’s pelvis. that made it so craig was unable to grind up into him or anything, so he had to make it quick.

which was sort of unfortunate for craig, he was trying to prolong this for as long as possible and give his same energy back. he loves tweek, god, does he— but he’s a brat. and, tweek also makes him terribly horny terribly quick. watching tweek come apart, twitching and groaning and moaning, from such simple gestures was way too easy for him. and that got craig going every single time.

craig gave him no real time to adjust, quickly squeezing in his ring finger. it was honestly a struggle. craig took a hand and placed it firmly onto tweek’s shoulder, pushing his own body back to create a little gap for more arm room.

he gradually is picking up the pace with his fingers, a loud squelching noise following. it isn’t like tweek doesn’t know how to take dick– he’s gripping around him and releasing, but he’s not relaxing. “jesus, tweek. when’s the last time you opened yourself up?” he’s gently stroking his back now to try and soothe him a little. he wasn’t a total asshole.

tweek grunted, knees almost buckling. “ngh, other night, dunno.”

craig lovingly pinched his side. “you’re clamping down on me. guess your just a natural fucking whore,” he slipped in his last finger. it was mean– or sounded that way. but craig knows tweek likes it, he shuddered, getting all bambi legged, almost toppling over. craig would have to help support him eventually.

his poor boyfriend was writhing and sobbing, blubbering and hiccuping, throat raw and hoarse. usually, when tweek was crying, his instinct is to hold him all protective like. but that was a different kind of cry. that was a ‘holy shit i am going to explode’ kind of cry. this was a ‘holy shit i am going to explode. but in a good way’, kind of cry. but still craig had the instinct to get all lovey-dovey on him, gently kissing him up and telling him he’s gonna be okay, praising him.

but he still jammed in and out of tweek, all until his ass felt less constricted, just the slightest bit. keeping his fingers in, he shuffled back up to tweek. tweek struggled, but he got onto his tip-toes, this made it so his ass bumped just below his cock. craig let out the quietest groan, removing his fingers and ignoring the way tweek wailed about it, and wiped them down tweek’s lean thigh.

craig untied his sweats, tugging them til they were bunched at his ankles, and in a hurried swoop, did the same with his boxers.

tweek shivered in absolute fear ( and delight ) at the feeling of craig’s cock slapping just over his back. he whimpered, in concern for himself, because fuck is he hard. tweek was dubious on if he’d be able to walk very well, let alone stand. judging on craig’s previous roughness, it wasn’t likely.

if craig didn’t know better and wasn’t already used to it, the sight of just how fucking huge his dick looked laying flat against tweek’s back should’ve been uncanny. and not to say that it wasn’t, it absolutely was. it nudged just to a few inches below the middle of tweek’s back. it was abnormal how tweek was able to take it, craig would’ve felt horrible if he didn’t know how much tweek liked it.

craig began to slather up his own cock with the remnants of what was left in the tub of lotion, grunting at how bad he needed it. he was aching. tweek eagerly wiggled back into him.

usually, they were accustomed to getting around their height difference. and not just sex wise, either. tweek was used to having to tug craig down for kisses and such, he’d never stop complaining about it ever since craig did gain his growth spurt. there was nothing craig could really do other than take it, i mean, wasn’t his fault his dad was an enormous guy.

however, right now, it was pretty apparent. and sort of an issue, tweek wouldn’t be able to keep up on his toes, that’s for damn sure. craig thought for a moment, and suddenly, gripped tweek below the waist and lifting him up from the floor ever so slightly. tweek kicked his feet a bit disgruntled. with no warning, craig prodded tweek’s hole for a second, or two, and then just shoved right in. tweek sputtered out a cry so high in volume it was barely even registered as audible.

craig’s fingers stay put, dragging along just above his pelvis, just barely missing his cock. all on purpose. as he scraped his dick in further, he felt a bump protruding from the little cavity that was tweek’s stomach from his cock pounding into him. jesus christ.

“good fucking boy,” he punctuated each word with a slam into his ass, digging his nails into tweek’s skin. tweek just went completely limp, his limbs sagging uselessly. to be honest, he sort of felt like a fleshlight. both because of the way he was being held, and also of the way he was being fucked into relentlessly. craig’s pace was brutal, and punishing. he felt delirious, and dizzy, a tiny bit.

craig tirelessly bounced him off and on his cock, a stinging sensation coursing through tweek’s body. not in a way that hurt too bad, but just, overwhelming? his legs were shaking, having nothing to rest onto. it was a lot for tweek, which made it all the more nice for craig to watch. and to feel the way he would react to his every stroke.

beads of sweat forming along craig’s forehead from the intensity. he was getting a tad weak in the knees, too. half of his strength was going to keeping tweek up. the other half was going to thrusting into him as fast as he was. eventually, he hoisted tweek up enough to balance him back on one knee, looping an arm securely around his waist. he took his now free hand and gripped onto tweek’s hair, tipping his head back.

craig bit down onto his ear, causing tweek to jerk in shock. the biting soon turned into nibbling, working the lobe tediously between his teeth. craig began scratching, digging his nails into his scalp. it was going until tweek was wincing, biting on his bottom lip. it almost drew blood.

craig grunted loudly, losing his hold with his teeth. he panted into tweek’s ear. “you fucking wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” tweek simply whimpered in response, clutching desperately at craig’s wrist. the hair pulling did somewhat hurt, he had a tender scalp from years of abusing it when he was little, ( sometimes now, even ). “i think you did.”

in contrast, however, craig was giving him gentle pecks to the side of his face following each heavy thrust. tweek already felt thoroughly used, his body just dangling, he felt like some sort of ragdoll. body shaking with sobs. but, he felt good, he didn’t want craig to stop. the pressure of craig’s hips slamming against his aching prostate was heavenly. tweek had been craving this, wanting this. he just forgot that craig could drive him this crazy. he liked being worn out like this.

craig grabbed him closer, somehow, and pulled out half way before slamming back in. tweek kicked a bit involuntarily, his mouth going agape, eyes crossing, saliva threatening to leave his lips.

craig was close. he’s been close ever since tweek was gyrating onto his thigh. seeing him desperate is his thing. to be fair, tweek is just kind of his thing. tweek could do anything during sex and he’d be more than happy to endure it, he thinks. his insides were coiling. he wasn’t sure how much longer he had. or how much more strength he had left.

tweek’s body was pulling back, clamping over craig’s cock. “craig,” he had other words to say, but he couldn’t articulate them. they turned into incomprehensible murmurs and cries. craig pulled on his hair and turned his head to the side, kissing him.

it was mostly tongue. craig kept tweek’s head firm with the grip on his hair. tweek was clumsily missing his mouth. mainly cut off by all of the noises leaving his lips. he was losing his voice. he couldn’t muster anything more than stupid whimpers and mumbling craig’s name. craig was giving him gentle kisses along his bottom lip and chin, not minding the copious amount of saliva. he looked beautiful all fucked out.

tweek’s eyes unfocused, drooping, and stuttering closed as he came again. his dick went flaccid, cum painting the underside of his stomach and the desk. craig huffed heavily at the tightening sensation. he dropped tweek’s hair and focused all of his last bits of strength into holding him around the middle, securing him to the flat top.

his fingertips almost touched. that was fucking insane.

craig let out a long, extensive strings of curses. he locked his knees to hold himself firmly to the ground, sinking down to lay his chest over tweek’s back and biting into tweek’s shoulder. tweek couldn’t do anything other than moan and cry, hands trembling along with literally every other one of the muscles in his body. still spasming and fluttering around craig’s vigorous, relentless movements. his head lolled over the cool surface beneath him.

craig was losing his composure, the anticipation of his orgasm making him cave. with a stuttering, harsh series of pulling tweek back down onto his cock, tweek struggling to keep taking it. he bit down onto tweek’s shoulder harder, letting a muffled “fuck.” strain through his lips as he unloaded into him. his calves strained, struggling to stay up. he leaned a bit more into tweek, searching for support, despite tweek being the one relying off of craig’s.

panting, he let his head hang. sweaty, warm, tight, holy fuck.

what pulled him from it was tweek’s unfaltering sobs. the protectiveness consumed craig again. he used his very last ounce of strength to carefully slip out of tweek, giving a few final tugs on his sensitive cock, letting the last drops of his release falling over tweek’s back. taking a quick second to look him over, he gave a gentle pat to his side, huffing out a breath and linking his arms underneath tweek’s, pulling him off the desk and hosting him up into his arms.

tweek let out hoarse little cries, and craig gently shushed them, wiping his weeping eyes with his thumb. “you did so good. so good.” tweek clutched onto his wrist for comfort. “did i hurt you? are you okay?”

tweek tiredly shook his head no. craig continued to wipe away his tears, half stumbling and half trying to retain his current strength enough to sit down into the rickety office chair. craig held him close, tweek bunching his knees to his chest to cover his shaking body. he felt vulnerable. he was quite physically exposed.

craig exhaled, and nudged his nose into tweek’s neck and kissed him, letting his lips stay firm. tweek relaxed enough to crane his neck and let his head rest atop of craig’s. tweek gently played with craig’s hair for comfort, still recovering.

they sat in silence, breathing hard. and after a second, craig stirred back up and nudged his knee into tweek’s leg resting over it. “shower?”

“please,” craig smiled a little, stroking tweek’s skin. “i love you, stop being a dick,” he said, chuckling breathlessly.

craig hummed a bit. “i love you too.” he kissed his neck again, and then got up with tweek in his arms towards the bathroom.

#ao3 #fanfic #south park #creek #south park fluff #south park smut #craig tucker #tweek tweak