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fairy-angel222 · 2 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

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latetaektalk · 28 days

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love to hate you | jjk [viii, preview]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU, angst, fluff, sexual themes (later chapters)

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: estimated 100k for the entire series, 970 for this preview

— warnings: none for this preview

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: i cant believe we've gotten this far into the story. we're slowly but surely nearing the end and i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it bc this is by far my favourite chapter ive written so far for those two idiots <3

— find it here

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae.

It was Taehyung.

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.

“We weren’t arguing.”

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.

You knew it was about you. It had to be.

find it here

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #linh.preview

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allywthsr · 5 months

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WISHLISTS | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and you check your kids‘ wishlists

wordcount: 1.7k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: kids

notes: I think it’s cute, what do you think?? Also Lando is older in this than he is right now :)

advent calendar

”Are they both asleep?“

”Yes, we should look at their wishlists now, and see what we can order or not.“

It was later than normal in the evening, but both kids were little troublemakers and did not want to sleep today, both of them were buzzing with excitement over Christmas. They spent the day at nana and Pop's house, and Lando’s parents made a wishlist for Santa with them today.

Louis was about to turn six years old and little Sofia was three and a half years old.

Both of them were opinionated and knew exactly what they wanted. So when Lando’s parents brought up the idea of making a wishlist with the kids, how could you say no? Normally that was a thing that Lando and you did with your kids, but you hadn’t had the time yet, so you were thankful Cisca and Adam did it for you. This year, Louis was old enough to try and write it himself, it almost made you cry looking at his scribble that had been corrected by Cisca or Adam many times, but still, it was the cutest. He was growing up too fast, when you looked at Lando and saw the little pout on his lips when you showed him the paper, you knew he was thinking the same.

Sofia‘s list was written by Cisca, and Sofia had decorated it with stickers and random streaks of colorful pens. The ’Santa‘ on top of the paper was written by Sofia, the wonky letters were different sizes and the second ’a‘ was the other way around, but you were proud of your little girl.

Lando and you sat on the couch, you were in your fuzzy socks and sweats, relaxing with your favorite hot drink, while Lando was drinking some water and was also dressed in sweats and a hoodie. It was almost Christmas and you barely had presents for your kids, a few you both picked up on some errand runs, but nothing specific.

You cuddled up to Lando and held the wishlist of your eldest in your hand.

”I‘m ready to see what an almost six-year-old wants for Christmas. I can’t believe he‘s six, we are old, Lando.“

”Probably a car like mine, yesterday he said: ’Daddy, I want to race with you every weekend‘, so I guess we need to get him in F1, and talk to McLaren about it.“

He let out a high-pitched giggle. Lando said he wanted to wait for kids after he retired, but Louis happened because you weren’t careful enough, and when you broke the news to him, he wanted nothing more than to raise this baby with you. He was only twenty-three years old when you got pregnant, and not ready to retire yet, so he gave it a year to try it out, in the end, the three of you managed it well and he didn’t need to retire. Sofia was planned, you wanted to give Louis a sibling and now he was the best big brother you could imagine for your girl. Both of your kids were totally daddy orientated, whether they were crying and needed cuddles, or they wanted to play with someone when daddy was around, he was their first choice. But when daddy said no, which barely happened, they ran to mummy and asked you, and if you said yes, you were the favorite for the rest of the day.

With your head on Lando’s shoulder, you started to read out loud.

”Alright, dear Santa, I am a good boy and have a few wishes. A new big boy bike without extra wheels, a kart like daddy had when he was younger, the new cars racetrack, a cars lunchbox, new cars, construction trucks, a real bunny, a camera like daddy, my own helmet. Thank you, Santa. That are some wishes.“

”He certainly knows what he wants, but I like most of them, we can work with that. I also love his spelling, cars with a z or boy with an i.“

You pressed a kiss to Lando’s cheek, ”he‘s all grown up, he wants a big boy bike and a kart. I don’t think I can endure another Norris in a kart.“

”Don’t worry baby, I‘ll be with him.“

You talked about putting Louis in a kart when he shows interest, but so far he only loved cars and watching daddy drive around, for a week he wasn’t able to stop talking about driving himself. Lando loved that, he started around the same age and couldn’t wait to put Louis in a kart, especially since he had his own karting team.

”I think the bike thing is something we can give your parents, we can get him the cars things, do you think he wants the lunchbox with lightning McQueen or someone else?“

”He loves this Ryan car, he’s orange and ’looks like your daddy‘, maybe we should see if we can find one with him on it.“

You hummed in agreement, ”What about the construction trucks?“

”Sure, there's probably a set with different cars inside, that would be nice.“

Again you nodded your head, ”I don’t like the bunny idea, animals shouldn’t be something that’s gifted for Christmas. We can talk about that with him next year, but not for Christmas. I want him to understand that a pet is not just a cute thing that you can pet all day long, it’s work and commitment.“

”Yeah, I agree, we’re also away a lot, we can’t take a bunny with us to the tracks, and taking care of two hyperactive kids is a chore.“

You two chuckled, ”Well, they clearly have that from you, you’re always hyperactive, Lando.“

”And I‘m proud of it, we can’t deny that they’re mine.“

”We definitely can’t. What do think about the camera? I saw on Amazon a few days ago, that there are kids cameras, not expensive and does the job.“

”I like that. And I want to make a helmet for him.“

”Do you have his measurements?“

”No, but I‘ll say Santa needs his head size if he wants to make a helmet.“

”That’s sweet. And we also have that new swing play set outside for both of them, that should be enough presents from us, right? He’s going to be spoiled from the rest of our family anyway.“

He hummed quietly and kissed your forehead.

”Onto the next one“, you mumbled, grabbing the page that lay next to you.

”Dear Santa, I am the best girl, I want for Christmas: a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a bunny, a pretty pink purse like mamas, a bunny stuffie, pets for my Barbie’s, the dogs from paw patrol, new hair clips, a T-shirt from uncle Carlos. Thank you, Santa.“

”A T-shirt from Uncle Carlos? What is wrong with her?“, Lando was confused.

”I think Carlos told her multiple times over Facetime a few days ago, that she should wish for a T-shirt from him.“

”I have to call him tomorrow. But why has she listed the Barbie doll four times?“

”We should call your mum and ask.“

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and clicked on FaceTiming his mum. You two greeted her with waves and ’hellos‘ when she picked up.

”We went through the wishlists and why did Sofia list the Barbie doll four times?“

”I have no clue, darlings, when I told her, I’ve already written it down, she kept on repeating I need to write Barbie doll multiple times, or else Santa won’t get her point.“

”She‘s truly Lando’s child.“

”Oh yes, I can remember Lando also did something similar when he was young.“

”Are you calling me old, mum?“

”No, my darling.“

”Cisca, we thought you and Adam could get him the bike? Or do you have something else?“

”We only have small things yet, we would love to gift him the bike. He said he wants a black one with orange and bright yellow stripes, like daddy’s helmet.“

”That’s fine, I don’t know if you want to buy it with him or without him, should he be with you while picking it out?“

”Maybe that’s better, we can say Santa told us to buy it with him, so he gets the one he wants.“

You two nodded, ”And with Sofia, we need to check first, what dolls she has and which she does not have, we don’t want to gift her some she already has.“

”Sure my darling, let us know if you have any ideas for her from her wishlist.“

All of you said your goodbyes and Lando and you went back to discussing Sofias list.

”We have to check her Barbies tomorrow when she‘s at daycare, as well as the pets she has for them, I like the hair clips and the stuffie, does she want the paw patrol dogs as stuffies or normal toys? The bunny is obviously a no.“

”Yeah, bunny’s a no, but maybe as stuffies? You know how much she loves stuffed animals, she can also play with them as if they’re normal toys. What about the purse?“

”I don’t know yet, maybe we find a kids purse somewhere?“

She may love her daddy more, but she was imitating you, all the time, playing dress up with your bags and shoes whenever she was bored.

Lando hummed to the purse idea and sighed.

”She‘s three and already wants a handbag, and I thought you would be the only one for a while.“

”She‘s a true girl, next year she‘ll ask for makeup.“

”I won’t allow her that, she can do that when she‘s eighteen.“

”Lando, when she‘s fifteen she‘ll be doing her makeup, like it or not. If she already wants a handbag, that’s the next step, soon she’ll have a boyfriend.“

”No, she doesn’t need a boyfriend, she has me and Louis, she doesn’t need different men in her life.“

”So you don’t want to have grandchildren?“

”Louis can make them.“

You decided to drop that topic, you wouldn’t be able to change his mind today.

”And what about the Carlos T-shirt?“

”I‘m not even going to give you an answer on this.“

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #dad!lando norris #christmas

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creamsickle-writes · 1 year

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Forbidden Fruit: Shanks x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, Modern!AU, AGE GAPS (at one point he mentions he's old enough to be reader's dad), mentions of creampies/breeding, dirty talk, daddy kink, sex toys, and phone sex

Thank you @aces-sweetheart for making this post which inspired me to write this fic!

Click here for part two!

You were desperate.

After looking for a boyfriend for so long, you were getting frustrated. Boys at your college seemed dull to you, and online dating was a total bust; finding companionship seemed impossible for you.

You wanted something romantic, sure, but right now, you needed something more sexual. You hadn’t been laid in god knows how long, and the sexual energy within you had reached its bursting point.

You thought to yourself as you lay in bed; you could’ve used one of your many toys to get you off, but that was growing old. You wanted someone to be there with you.

You chewed at your lip, trying to decide what to do with your frustrated self.

Until an idea popped into your mind.

Maybe you didn’t have a companion, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t buy some services to replicate the experience.

Immediately you perked up and began searching for online cams and various male voice-over actors you could listen to.

But after looking at those, you decided that wasn’t quite right either…

That’s when you see a targeted ad about a phone sex hotline. You raised your brows; you had never considered doing something like that before… but the more you thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

You clicked the number on the search engine page without even thinking it through.

You almost hang up, but you’re greeted by an automated voice.

“Welcome!” It cheerily rings, “You have reached The New World Chat Line! Please select one if you are interested in women, two of you are interested in men.”

You debate hanging up right then, but with shaky fingers, you select ‘two.’

The silence is loud, but eventually, you hear that automated voice again.

“Please select one of our many male operators to chat with!”

The phone begins repeating back various profiles that the men had recorded themselves. There were many different guys, each with their own list of kinks and physical descriptions. You chewed your lip as you listened; some were interesting but not enough to get you to bite the bullet.

That is, until you hear a deep, raspy voice.

“Hey there,” It starts, “You can call me Akagami. Uh, let’s see, I’ve got red hair, and I’m a little over six foot… I think I’m around six foot six?”

Your eyes bulged; he considered that “a little” over?

“I’m looking for sweet girls that like to play with older men. Real innocent, cute types are perfect for my style of play. I want to guide a girl, teach her everything from how to squirt to how to please me-“

You don’t need to hear anymore. You want this guy now.

Pressing ‘one’ on impulse, the phone begins to ring.

It doesn’t take long before there’s an answer.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he says it with a familiarity that causes your body to heat up.

“U-Uh, hi-“ you want to smack yourself as your voice comes out way too squeaky and high-pitched.

He laughs on the other end, but you can tell it’s all in good fun, not out of malice.

“And how are you doing today, princess?”

“Uhm,” you pick at the hem of your shirt as you lay on your back, “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I wanted to talk to someone…”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Is that right? So you decided to talk to me? I’m flattered.”

“Mhm…” you trail off, not sure how to get the ball rolling.

But fortunately for you, he’s a natural.

“Honey, you sound a bit young,” he starts, “How old are you?”

“O-Old enough!”

He chuckles, “So you’re a younger girl.”

Your face burns bright red. Were you seriously so obvious that he could read you so easily?

“Hm, don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me.” He purrs it into the phone, and your body shivers at his tone, “Is this your first time calling for this kind of thing?”

“Um, yeah…”

He chuckles lowly, and your heart skips a beat, “Don’t worry, we can talk about anything you want. It can get sexy, it can get sad, hell, you could just tell me about your day; I’m all ears.”

You smile a bit at his words, your nerves starting to disappear.

“Well, I called because, like I said, I’m kinda lonely…” you pause as you debate what you want to say, “I’ve been trying to find a boyfriend but no luck…”

You hear him “aww” as he listens, and you talk a bit about your dating struggles, how college has been challenging, and how you’re up to your limit with how sexually frustrated you are.

“Things can be rough at your age. I remember I had a hard time when I was in college…”

“How old are you?” You chirp up, and he laughs.

“Curious? I’m 40 now.”

You hummed, “You’re old enough to be my dad.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “I kind of figured that.”

“It’s kinda…” you swallow, unsure how to finish your sentence without dying of shame.

“Kinda what?” He pushes, and you can practically hear his smirk, “Go ahead.”

Your core lit up at his words, “Even though you’re almost twice my age- no because you’re almost twice my age… it’s really getting me worked up.”

He growls, “Yeah? You like fantasizing about older guys?”

“I-I do-” you whimper, “My dad has a friend… I’ve always found him attractive…”

“Sounds like you’ve always had a thing for older men.”

“Always.”

He groans at that, “Dirty little girl… don’t you know it’s girls like you that make things so tempting for guys like me? We want to take advantage of cute things like you who have no idea what you’re getting into…”

You bite your lip, “But I want you to take advantage of me.”

“Fuck-” he hisses, “Alright, I don’t know if I can take the idle conversation anymore, princess. You’re making me so hard right now.”

You swallow, working up the courage to make the first move, “Can you tell me how hard you are? Please?”

Your core flutters at the grunt that comes from the other end of the line.

“It’s getting really hard, baby. My pants feel so tight right now just listening to your sweet voice say such dirty things.”

He groans, and your ears perk up at the sound of fabric shuffling in the background. Your heartbeat accelerated at the action.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve any discomfort that grew between your legs at his words.

And with that, there’s a click from the phone.

“Hello?”

“To continue, please enter payment information.”

Shit. Your free minutes ran out.

You scrambled to grab your wallet on the bedside table and fished out your card. Quickly, you punch in your credit card info before the phone rings again.

A warm chuckle greets you, “Did I lose you?”

“Yeah-“ you sigh, “I needed to enter some card info.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “I see… don’t worry, I kept your seat nice and warm for you~”

“Thank you,” you laugh, “I appreciate it.”

“Yknow,” he starts, “I bet a slutty little thing like you has a bunch of toys to play with. Why don’t you take one from your collection and use it?”

“O-Okay.”

You whine as you remove your hand from your cunt and get out of bed, pulling out a box from underneath it. You pull out your favorite clitoral vibrator and a basic dildo. You describe to Akagami the toys you’ve chosen.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Try easing that dildo inside first…”

As you lay on your back, you spread your legs, teasing your hole with the silicone tip. You whimper softly before pushing in and gasping at the intrusion. You’re plenty wet, so the toy slides right in, bottoming out to the suction cup base.

“I-It’s in- “

“Good, good.” He hums. “Turn on the vibrator now. Make sure it’s on the lowest setting, alright?”

You adjust so that you’re holding the phone between your shoulder and cheek, your dominant hand turning on the vibrator and placing it on your clit. Even though it was only on the first setting, the buzzing made you jump.

“God, I can just imagine your flustered body writhing…” he laughs, “You said you’re in college, right? Don’t you have roommates you’re worried about?”

You bit your lip, “She won’t be back for a while… I think.”

“Oh? You think?” He teases, “Now you’ve got me thinking about if I was in your dorm room with you…”

“W-Wh-” you try to get your words out, “What would you do if you were here?”

“Mm,” he drawls, “first, I’d kiss my precious princess. Swipe my tongue over your lips before playing with your tongue.”

Your face grows hot, and you wonder what his tongue would taste like. Does he drink? Smoke? Your tongue darts over your lips as you ponder.

“And I’d play with your tits… squeeze them and play with your nipples that I bet are so hard right now.”

You use your free hand to pull at your nipples, which are just as stiff as the older man speculated.

“A-And then what?”

“Eager, are you?” He stifles a laugh, “I like that….”

“Just for you, Daddy.”

A silence lingers, and for a while, you’re worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable.

But then he speaks.

“You know, a lot of dorms have security. And even if yours doesn’t, other students will likely see us…” You press your lips together, wondering where he’s taking this, “You think they’d think I’m your father when you lead me to your room? That our relationship is innocent?”

Your eyes flutter shut as he continues, “Or do you think they’d know I’m just there to use your younger body? That I’m just a perverted old man fucking a college girl?”

“I-I-“you stutter, tossing your head back, “I don’t know-“

“Turn up your toy, princess. Let Daddy hear your moans.”

You obey his command immediately as if he’s placed a spell on you. Your finger clicks the button on your toy again, making the vibrations grow stronger.

“Oh, Daddy-” you sharply gasp, “I need your cock- how big is it? Tell me-“

“Around eight inches when I’m this hard, princess.”

Your mouth watered.

“Never had a dick that big in me before…”

He chuckles, “No?”

“It’s probably too big-“

“Daddy will make it fit.”

You moan openly, your cunt squeezing the dildo inside you at his words. Even though he didn’t give you permission, you turned the toy up one more notch. You bit your lip, knowing you’d get in trouble if he found out. Over the sound of your toy, you hear wet noises coming from his end.

“Would you let Daddy fuck you raw, princess?” He grunts, “Would you let him creampie your little pussy?”

“Yes-“you breathlessly gasp, “Y-Yes, I want it-“

“Mm,” he moans, “You answered that quickly. You could get knocked up, you know.”

As you approach the edge, your breathing goes shallow, “Don’t care, just need you to claim me. I need you to own me-!”

“Fuck-“he draws it out, “I’m gonna make it so you only want Daddy’s dick. None of those little boys at school will be able to compete.”

You whimper and arch your back as your toy happily buzzes away, stimulating you in all the right ways. Your clit throbs and pulses as the toy surrounds it, and your insides tighten around the other toy.

“I’m so close-“

“That’s good; turn up your toy one more notch.”

“I-I can’t-“

He hums, “A toy that only has two settings? That doesn’t sound right… did you turn it up without permission?”

Your voice trembles, and your legs shake, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Naughty thing,” he tsks, “I’ll allow it this time, but only because we’re both so close-“

Your eyes shut tight as the pleasure overwhelms you. As you approach the end, your legs begin to quiver, and your heart rate is off the charts. Your body tense as your feelings become too much to bear. You needed to cum.

“Daddy, I-I need to cum!” You whimper, “Please let me cum!”

“Ngh-“He grunts, “Cum for Daddy. Squirt your cum all over your cute fingers*

Your vision goes dark as you cum. Your body seizes, and your toes curl as your back arches off the bed. Your chest heaves, and you hear a low growl from the other end of the phone, “That’s it, that’s it, princess. You sound so pretty when you cum for me.”

“Daddy,” you moan helplessly, “Cum for me too.”

Akagami’s breath grows ragged as he gets closer, “Don’t worry, princess, Daddy isn’t far behind-!”

He lets out a low groan when he cums, and you bite your lip, listening to him. After a few moments, everything grows quiet.

“I’ll call you again Daddy. Let’s play again soon, okay?”

“Of course, baby. I would love to guide you through another orgasm.”

And with that, you hang up the phone.

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece #one piece smut #x reader #cream's fics

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partnerlesspansexual · 7 months

Text

No, you kill it!

(Hobie Brown x Gn!reader)

Synopsis: Hobie being an absolute man baby

It's around 9:30 pm. You're nesting on a pile of soft blankets and cushions on the sofa in your and Hobie's shared flat, reading your favourite book and munching on your favourite snack, peacefully winding down after your stressful day at work.

But just as you're about to fully surrender your body to relaxation, you hear a shrill, high pitched scream come from the kitchen. You jolt upright, startled by the sudden loud noise and are curious as to what the hell just happened. After roughly 2 seconds of silence, a voice calls out from the kitchen.

"Y/N! Can you pop into the kitchen, please? Preferably NOW"

Hobie yells in distress.

You sigh as you effortlessly decipher who the voice belongs to. Then you begrudgingly drag yourself off your sofa nest and through to the kitchen (at a pace a lot slower than Hobie would prefer). When you reach the entrance to the kitchen, you lean on the doorway and fold your arms as you behold the site before you. Hobie is crouched on the kitchen counter, plunger in hand and is adorning an expression that gives the impression that he's just witnessed the most disgusting creature known to man. You smirk and raise your brows at him.

"Evening love. If you don't mind my asking, what the hell are you doing in here?"

You ask, your tone laced with exasperation as you eye your boyfriend with a suspicious stare. He points to a black speck in the middle of the kitchen floor with a shaky hand, and speaks as his voice quivers with fear.

"There's a s-spider"

He whimpers like a little boy who's just been severely traumatised. Your eyes widen before you burst out laughing, clutching your chest as it heaves with hearty chuckling. Tears begin to stream down your face as you try to contain your outburst of laughter; all the while Hobie is glaring at you as if you've just kicked him in his crown jewels.

"It's not funny"

He grumbles, crossing his arms like a moody toddler that has been denied sweets. After a moment, you're able to regain your composure and give Hobie a sarcastic look.

"Oh, but it is, my love. It truly is"

You saunter closer to him, a smug expression slowly spreading across your face.

"The great Spiderpunk himself, Mr Hobie Brown... is afraid of spiders? My my, the irony of this situation is just delectable"

You tease him as his cheeks flush a dark shade of red, his embarrassment becoming very visible. After a moment he rolls his eyes and bonks you on the head with his trusty plunger.

"Yes, yes, there'll be time to mock me later, but right now I have a favour to ask"

You eye him suspiciously, raising one of your brows at him

"Go on?"

He takes a deep breath before responding

"I need you to kill the spider for me"

You make a shocked face, pretending to feel sympathy for the 8 legged creature just to annoy Hobie

"Why would I do that? He's just a little guy, he's not hurting anyone"

You say with an overly sappy tone as Hobie looks you dead in the eyes and responds with

"That's a load of bollocks and you know it! That wanker is a menace to society"

He shouts passionately as he waves his plunger at the spider. You give a hearty chuckling and decide to put an end to Hobie's suffering.

"Alrighy, alright, princess. I'll pop him outside but I'm not killing him. Deal?"

You hold your hand out for a handshake, hoping this will satisfy Hobie's bloodlust and hatred for the tiny arachnid. He ponders for a moment and then returns the handshake with a nod.

"Deal"

You chuckle and shake your head as you crouch down to the floor, pick up the little spider and walk to the front door. But before you reach it, Hobie calls out to you again.

"Y/N!"

"Yeah?"

You yell back, wondering what on earth he could possibly want now

"Love you!"

He shouts as a warm flush spreads across your cheeks and you roll your eyes at his adorableness

"I love you too, you big baby"

You call back

(I know this isn't my best work but it's 10 pm and I'm so tired 😭)

#hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x reader #gn reader #atsv hobie #atsv

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buckychristwrites · 10 months

Text

Could This Be | Chap. 3 | j.t.

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about..

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

Sanctuary.

That’s how you viewed the medical room at the Nelson Road Stadium.

It was supply order day, which meant it was a day with your headphones in, going through inventory for yourself and for the physical therapists before placing the order, and resorting the stock if need be. It normally took all day, and you were only interrupted if someone got hurt or sick on the pitch, which wasn’t often on non-match days. So you could expect to spend the entire day by yourself.

You were sitting on the floor of the supply room, tapping your feet against the grey tile as you wrote down how many leg splints were on the shelf. Quietly, you were singing along to the song playing. At least, you thought it was quietly, but it was hard to tell over the music. It wasn’t something you bothered about though. No one would hear it even if you sang at the top of your lungs. Resting on the floor next to you was the two way radio, turned up loud so you’d be able to hear it, in case of emergency.

Over the two days that had passed since Keeley’s party, you had tried very hard not to think about Jamie or the conundrum he had put you in. It proved to be especially helpful to your mental health if you didn’t. The solution was a simple one. Everyone would just be informed of the breakup, stating that you weren’t ready for a relationship or things just didn’t work out or whatever, and then everything would go back to normal. And normal was something you yearned incredibly hard for.

Movement out of the corner of your eye alerted you that you were not alone. Slowly, you turned, finding Jamie Tartt leaning against the door of the supply closet.

A loud shriek left your mouth while you scrambled to your feet. As you ripped your headphones from your ears, he raised his hands apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry,” He said in a quiet tone. The expression on his face read a mix of guilt and amusement. “I didn’t want to interrupt ya, but I need to talk to ya.”

You didn’t say anything, instead stuffing your headphones in your pocket and waiting. He also had his hands in his pockets, looking almost as uncomfortable as you did. After a moment, he sighed as he pulled his phone out.

“Do you have Twitter?”

Your eyes narrowed. That was the last thing you expected him to say.

“I- uhm… I got rid of my social media,” You admitted, pulling your hand from your pocket to run it up and down your opposite forearm. “Last year.” He nodded without looking up, and you were surprised when he didn’t push the issue. Most people would question you to no end about how you could live without social media. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Jamie intently searched his phone before, hesitantly, handing it over to you. For a moment, you just stared at it. Whatever it was that he was trying to share, you knew you just by the look on his face that you weren’t going to like it. Maybe it would be best if you just didn’t know. He urged you to take it, as if he read your mind.

“You need to know, too.”

At that, your eyes met his. They were sad. Almost regretful. Without breaking eye contact, you slowly took the phone before looking down at it.

What you found were pages and pages of tweets about you and Jamie, pictures of you and him laying together and also some with his arm around you from the party, attached to almost each one. You were named directly in all of them. It was so tempting to read each one, especially the ones where they picked you apart by your appearance and called you names. They still caught your eye, as hard as you tried, and each one felt like a bullet in the chest.

“Who leaked these?” You asked him as you finally forced yourself to look away. All he could do was shrug.

“Keeley said she would try to find out, but the source was anonymous,” He said. “It could’ve been anyone at that party.” Your phone suddenly felt very heavy in your pocket.

He’s going to see it.

You wanted to scream as you handed Jamie back his phone.

“I’m sorry,” He said, sincerely. “I never meant for any of this to happen. You were so upset that night, I felt ‘orrible.” You shook your head.

“It’s fine, Jamie,” You said. “I’m not mad at you. I mean…” You smiled slightly. “I definitely was mad at you. The whole thing just had me more… overwhelmed than anything else.” You scratched your head. “Even more so now.”

He nodded, rocking back and forth from the tips of his toes to the heels of his feet. It was clear that the conversation wasn’t ending here. You watched him carefully.

“What is it?” You finally asked. He ran a hand down his face.

“I think…” He said, tilting his head. “I think we should keep this goin’, just for a little bit.” You stared at him in confusion.

“And why would we do that?” You asked in an unusually high voice, walking passed him out of the supply closet and back into the medical room. He turned to follow. The shaking in your hands started again as you sat down at your desk. If Jamie noticed your brand new demeanour, he didn’t comment on it

“‘Cos how stupid would it be if we told everyone we broke up right after we told them we’re together?” He asked. “Also, it still saves us from the blind date business we talked about. Can’t question ya if they know who you’re datin’, can they?”

It infuriated you that he was making sense.

You turned in your chair as you contemplated all of this. There were so many factors to consider. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing, necessarily. It certainly would get everyone off your back about dating someone new. But then there was the fear. It would be one thing if Jamie were a regular guy, but he was a public figure. Meaning, your picture would get put out there more than it already had. You wouldn’t be under the radar like you had been, which is something you felt you needed for safety and sanity reasons. But maybe that could be a positive in itself. Jamie could offer a sort of security at the matches that you didn’t have before. Maybe being on his radar was exactly what you needed.

“How long would it go on?” You asked him. Running his fingers through his long hair, he shrugged.

“At least a month,” He replied. “Give things time to smooth over.” You nodded as you continued to think.

“We’d probably need some rules then.”

He perked up at this, as if he hadn’t considered it.

“Alright,” He said, sitting down on the edge of your desk. Which you hated. “Rule number one, you have to go to all of the matches.”

You stared at him with a blank expression for a long time, wondering if he was joking. When he didn’t respond, you knew he wasn’t.

“Jamie,” You said slowly. “I already go to every single match. I have to because of my job.” He looked absolutely embarrassed, and you felt it too. Had he really noticed you so little that he couldn’t even remember you being at the matches? Who was the person who had helped him every time he got hurt at a match? Maybe it would be easier if you didn’t think about it too much.

“Fine, sorry,” He mumbled. “Real first rule then. You have to go to public events with me.” Nodding, he looked pleased with this one. “Movie premieres. Charity parties. Weddin’s. All that shit. You’re going too.” You scrunched up your face.

“Does that include Coach Beard’s wedding in a few weeks?” You asked him. He slammed his hands down on the desk, clearly grateful that you reminded him. It made you regret bringing it up entirely.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely it does!” He sounded so pleased about it, as if he was happy to know that he wouldn’t have to find a date for anything for the foreseeable future. As much as you wanted to be upset by this, your original plan for Beard’s wedding was to third wheel with Keeley and Roy, and while that would’ve been the safe route to go, now you’d have an actual date, and wouldn’t have to worry about Keeley, after a few drinks entered her system, asking every man who was alone to ask you to dance. Like she had at the last wedding the two of you attended.

“Rule number two I think is an obvious one,” He continued. “Just be honest with each other.” You nodded, liking this one a lot.

“I think that for this to work, we have to become friends on some sort of level,” You said, adding onto what he said. “I feel like I know nothing about you.” This seemed to surprise me.

“Do ya know what, I think you’re the first person to say that to me in a long time.”

“So, we have to be honest with each other,” You repeated back to him. “That’s rule number two, but rule number three is that we’re going to leave this as amicable friends.” Your head tilted towards your shoulder. You wanted to add a comment about no longer being invisible to him, but decided not to.

“Then, of course,” He said, a cheeky tone filling his voice. “There’s rule number four; Don’t fall in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes so hard that you could feel them strain. Immediately, you changed your expression, giving him the best heart eyed look you could muster.

“Can you believe it, I already have!” You exclaimed, throwing a dramatic hand to your forehead. “Whatever shall we do?” He was fighting a smile as he watched you.

“I know, I’m just too irresistible,” He said, playing as if he knew this would happen.

“Oh Jamie Tartt, the most real while also the most fake love of my life, how will I ever find anyone else?”

“Alright, fuck off,” He said through a laugh. Dropping your hand to your lap, you found that you were laughing as well. He was looking at you, as if for the first time. “I always forget how funny ya are. Ya always seem to keep to yourself.”

Yeah, you thought to yourself. There’s a reason for that.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. There was no good way to respond.

“Last rule,” You said, more reservation in your voice this time. “I…erm.” Your eyes dropped to the table, but you could still feel him staring. “I need…” You inhaled sharply. “I need you to… to ask before you touch me.” The words hung in the air for a moment, and you wished so desperately to suddenly gain the ability to turn invisible so you could escape his gaze. “Or, at the very least, let me know before you touch me. Please.”

He stared at you for a long moment, waiting for what you could only assume was an explanation. But you didn’t intend to give one, instead just continuing to stare at the table awkwardly while trying to remain cool and not panicked.

“Alright,” He said slowly. Another beat passed before he continued, “Can I ask-”

“No,” You interrupted him quickly, feeling stupid by how desperate you sounded. “No, you can not.” His face softened, head tilting to the side slightly.

“What I was going to ask… if it upset you when I touched ya the other day.”

The heat rose in your cheeks.

“Oh, erm… It did,” You admitted, trying not to replay the absolute panic attack, along with washing your skin raw and sitting in the burning water for an hour, in your head. When the guilt filled his face, you shook your head. “Please don’t feel bad. There’s no way you could’ve known.” He shook his own head, waving you off.

“I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.”

You were dumbfounded by this response. This conversation usually went very, very differently. Never had it been this easy to set a boundary and not only not have them question you on the why, but also have them apologise for unknowingly breaking them in the past. The anxiety that had initially filled your chest completely evaporated, and you found it replaced with ease.

You opened your mouth to speak when you were interrupted by the door flying open. The both of you jumped up, turning to see Roy Kent at the door with Will the kit man next to him. Will’s nose was gushing with blood. Alarm bells began to ring in your head at the sight of him.

“Did you throw your radio into the fuckin’ ocean or somethin’?” Roy shouted as he grabbed Will by the sleeve and dragged him over to the bed. “Or are you too busy making puppy eyes at your new fuckin’ boyfriend?” Ignoring Roy, you ran to the supply closet and grabbed your radio, feeling nauseous over missing the call. You set it down on your desk when you reentered the room before turning your attention to Will.

“What happened?” You asked as you put some gloves on.

“The boys said I couldn’t juggle shoes,” Will explained. With his eyes on the ceiling, he couldn’t tell that you were giving him a look. “I had to prove I can.”

“It’s not broken, just busted up,” You said, your eyes scanning the area. “Did you prove it? That you can juggle shoes?”

“Yes!” Will exclaimed at the same time that Roy said, while shaking his head, “No.”

“I would’ve been fine had Isaac not thrown a 5th one into the mix.”

“I think you would’ve gotten clobbered with one of them either way, if I’m honest,” Roy remarked, taking a seat in the chair that you had previously been sitting in. He looked over at Jamie, who hadn’t said a word since they had arrived. “Don’t you have practice? Fuck off, Tartt.” Completely unfazed by Roy’s aggression, Jamie nodded while taking a step towards you.

“See you later, yeah?” He said gently. You looked at him as you packed Will’s nose with gauze, giving him a smile and a nod. He leaned in, before tapping his finger against his cheek. You stared at him, the corners of your lips flicking upwards into a small smile. It was clear by his eyes that this was a question, not a demand. He was giving you the power. You planted a kiss onto the side of his face, and he gave you a wide smile before sauntering out the door.

“I fuckin’ hate this,” Roy grumbled as the door clicked closed.

“I heard about you and Jamie,” Will said quickly, his voice all mucked up from the tissues in his nose. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Will,” You said as you grabbed a wipe to clean the dried blood from his cheeks, now that the bleeding had stopped. “If only everyone were as nice and supportive as you.” You made sure to say that last part a little louder, so that Roy was sure to hear it.

“Fuck you.”

“If you’re just here to pout and be an arse, you can fucking leave,” You told him with a friendly tone. Giving Will one last look, you ripped off your gloves. “Alright, Will. You’re clear to return to work.” Tossing the bundle into the rubbish bin, it dropped in easily. You gave Will a look of warning. “Maybe hold off on the shoe juggling for now, yeah?” He nodded understandingly before hopping off the bed and making his way out the door.

Roy, however, stuck around.

“Who said I don’t support you?” He demanded. Sitting down on the bed, you stared at him.

“Your entire behaviour has said it.” You cocked your head to the side. “You literally just said, and I quote.” You did your best Roy Kent impression, having perfected it over the years, “‘I fuckin’ hate this.’” If he was impressed by your Roy Kent voice, he did not voice it, to your complete dismay.

“I do,” He admitted, casually. “That don’t mean I don’t support you.” You crossed your arms over your chest, saying nothing. Roy leaned forward in the chair, pressing his hands together as he looked at you.

“Do you remember my last match as captain of Richmond?” He asked. “When I fucked up my knee-”

“-Sliding into Jamie,” You finished. Because of course you remembered. He got up and took himself out of the game, and you found him with Keeley in the locker room. Staying out in the hall where they couldn’t see you, you waited until she left, and then you gave him care. “I remember.”

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me?”

You nodded. “‘Should’ve kicked him harder, you would’ve broken his ankle.’”

Roy smiled fondly as if he was replaying it in his head. “Yeah.” Another moment passed before he spoke again. “And then do you remember the second thing you said to me?” You nodded, this one being much clearer.

“‘You’re more than this, you know. You’re so much bigger than this game. When you’re old and can’t remember how to wipe your own arse, they’ll still remember you as one of the greats, even if you don’t feel that great at this moment. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done it.’”

He had been so hurt, so devastated, when it became clear he couldn’t keep playing. His knee just wasn’t doing the job anymore. You had known him for a few years at this point, as you wrapped and iced his knee. A few years of watching him dominate matches. All you had done in that moment was be honest with him.

“You’ve done it, now,” He said tenderly. “You’ve always been more than that arsehole who you won’t let me kill. And you let it hold you back for longer than you should’ve. You deserve someone kind. Now you’ve got that. Of course I support you.” He sat up straight, face hardening once more. “I’m still going to complain about it, though.” You rolled your eyes, as the softness of the moment had reached its end.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

TAGS

@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgal, @hotdoglamp, @loveslide, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143, @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #tedlassosource #ted lasso fanfiction

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fandomwritingbit · 9 months

Note

How about Drunk William being a little too loud while yelling at his tv that AFAB!reader (neighbor) asks him to tone the noise down but instead he convinces her to come inside for drinks but ends up in a sticky situation.

My guy, I read this request at 4 in the morning and physically vibrated with excitement. This is so good, thank you!

I changed it a little- but I hope this is the ticket!

Drunk William x afab reader - Bad Neighbours

Arguing and smut below the cut xx

From directly above you the sound of metal scraping against the floor again woke you up. It sounded like the person in the flat above you was rearranging their whole set up, a drag and then a thump, shortly followed by glass clinking; it’s maddening.

What the fuck is that noise? Your brain finally snaps, for God’s sake, it’s so late, well past the half eleven noise curfew and you’ve got work in the morning. It’d be another thing entirely if the sound happened once or twice but it had been on and off for hours, pulling you in and out of sleep in the most brutal way.

Sitting up in bed, you rub your eyes to better see your phone screen, which stung your eyes in the pitch black of your bedroom. 03:12. You exhale from your nose, more than pissed off.

Tired induced anger motivated you to put a jacket on over your sleep shorts and vest, grab your keys and stomp out of your flat. Only recalling the need to be courteous when you see the night sky out the windows. You don’t bother with the lift, b-lining for the stairs and following them up to the next floor in your building, eager to give the person who lived above you a piece of your mind. You have no idea who lives there, your knowledge limited to your floor, and even then you didn’t know your neighbours that well.

You make it up the stairs quickly and head to the door with the same letter as you, the one directly overhead. There you knock on the door, firmly but not too loud out of respect for neighbours - if any of them could feasibly sleep with that racket going on. And from inside you can hear the rustling of someone standing up and walking over to the door, so you steel yourself waiting for confrontation. Keys jangle and thud against the door as the inhabitant clearly missed the lock, making you sigh, great, a pisshead.

Finally your neighbour manages to unlock their door and it swings open revealing perhaps the tallest man you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have to tilt your head to find his eyes, he squinted with the harsh light of the hallway before fixing you with a bemused stare. He’s so attractive that you briefly forget what you came here for.

“You alright, love?” the man asks a little slurred, eyebrows raised as he waits for you to say something. Seriously, who knocks on someone’s door and doesn’t say anything?

You blink, remembering you’re angry, scoffing a laugh, “Not really, mate. I mean, come on. Some of us have work in the morning, what the hell are you doing in there?” You speak too quickly for him and it takes a second for your interrogation to register.

“Dropped a glass.” he shrugs, before flashing you a stunning grin. “Though I’d have been more careful if I knew it would wake a cute thing like you.”

You’re taken aback and just laugh a little. “Yeah, sure. Look that noise wasn’t just a glass, whatever fucking DIY you’re doing, save it for normal hours, yeah?”

He sniggers at your tone, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, sorry, sweetheart. I’ll stop.” He held up his hands, swaying slightly at the change of posture that his drunk mind wasn’t ready for. “Honestly, you always so tightly wound?

His condescending question might as well have struck a match because you move closer to the door, trying not to raise your voice, “Listen, mate, I didn’t come here for an argument- just to ask you nicely to pack it in-”

“Well, I’m sure you can be nicer than that, sweetheart.” Somewhat understandably, he didn’t flinch from your form, instead just meeting it, hand on the doorframe for support. His eyes looked you up and down for a moment before he continued, “But it’s alright, you’re clearly upset. Why don’t you come in… I’ve got some class whiskey.”

In little more than 5 minutes you have so many questions for yourself and most of them begin with why. Why did you say yes and come into this man’s flat? How did you think this could possibly be a good idea? Why did you let him press you against the front door? Why is your tongue in his mouth? Why aren’t you going to stop?

The answer to the majority of these is probably ‘because this fella is hot, like really hot.’

His frame practically consumes you pressed up against this door, his touch clumsy and down to the point dirty, large hands squeezing your arse. You grunt some kind of approval, grinding your hips against this stranger’s crotch, feeling the prominent and hard bulge that you just couldn’t wait to quite literally get your hands on. Almost grinning when you realise that the only taste of that ‘class whiskey’ you were going to get, being the taste of it on his tongue, and it could be arousal talking but he was right, it was fucking delicious.

Almost before you can register it, you’re pulling this man’s shirt up to gain access to his waistband and letting him suck inelegant kisses on your neck. Much too eagerly pulling down his trousers and boxers and grabbing the hardness no longer concealed. You still can’t quite believe this is happening and you just stroke his stiffness utterly mesmerised, hearing him grunt against your skin, whilst his hands pull down the straps of your vest enough to free your tits. Feeling brave, you tilt your hips up, now rubbing his cock with the tip resting against your core, the feeling somehow making you wetter than you already are.

He pulls your shorts to the side to reveal your glistening pussy for him, then two fingers slide between your legs, collecting your slick before giving your clit some much needed attention. Even nearly mortal, as this bloke clearly was, he still knew exactly what he was doing, his thumb putting delicious pressure on your bundle of nerves and fingers diving between your folds and pushing intoxicatingly inside you.

“Fuck…” You moan, your breath almost ragged as his movements tighten the coil inside you. There was really no finesse to it at all, your hips rolling against his fingers bordering on embarrassing, and no doubt that shame would catch up with you tomorrow. But right now, you just want to cum so bad.

You’re letting him fuck his fingers in and out of you, trying to stroke his cock while rutting against him, the amount of stimulus too much for this time of the morning, especially when confronted with this guy who knew all the buttons to push to have you a gooey sticky mess. You’re almost at the top of your climb, pulling him towards you by his arm, looking at him with your lip between your teeth in a hope that he knows what you're thinking, his fingers shoving you closer by the second. And just- just as you’re there, the screaming taste of climax coating your tongue, he pulls out of your hole, leaving you clenching around nothing.

You groan in disappointment, shoving your hips forward to silently demand that you want more. Taking his cock, you notch it against your entrance, the precum leaking from him sticking to your overflowing pussy, which his drunk brain just can’t cope with. And he’s pulling one of your legs up, draping it over his waist to let his body that bit closer to you so he can press his dick inside you. Clearly tiredness had blinded you to his size because, to say the least, it’s a surprise. You claw at him in pleasure tinted shock, by the time he’s fully sheathed your climax begins to resurface, spurred on by that fucking delicious stretch.

He grunts when he hits the hilt, your little pussy tight and fluttering around him, and it could be the drink, or the unexpected encounter but he knows he won’t last long with a grip like that. You have no doubt that if someone was on the other side of this door they’d hear the sloppy sound of your cunt taking him in, louder as he became more greedy with how he was fucking you. He’s going so hard it’s almost like he’s forgotten you’re there, and you’re right on your peak, leg and hands wrapped tight around this stranger. Falling apart when he shoves his hand on your clit, instantly making your hips buck forwards as those familiar blinding waves took you over.

He groans with the vice-like fluttering of your walls, reaching the ‘fuck it’ point of reasoning when he just chased his own creeping end. Thrusting into you through your climax before pulling out of your twitching pussy to spread his release on your lower stomach.

He laughs, when he’s finished painting you, pulling away to fix himself as you do the same, the reality of it becoming apparent when your shorts cling to the stickiness coating all of your lower half. What a fucking mess.

You don’t exchange another word with this man, the second you’re righted you open his front door and slip out of it, careful to not let it bang behind you. You stand blinking in the bright light for a moment, dazzled by it after the darkness of his flat, or at least the small part of it you saw. Sighing, you take a step forward, a little unsteady on your feet, and then you hear it again.

That god forsaken, stupid-arse, motherfucking sound of metallic scraping screeching through the whole building. You turn back to the man’s apartment, fury seeping through your veins, before you realise… The sound isn’t coming from behind you but rather to your right.

And disbelief floods over you- you got the wrong fucking flat.

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton

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saezurumurmurs · 20 days

Text

A BL Platform For Everyone

NB: Please reblog this for visibility!

A little over two years ago, me and my BL crew were in our little chat sharing recommendations.

Cat had an impressive spread sheet, Marcie and I had iCloud Notes, and it was pretty much chaos.

I looked at it and said out loud, "There has to be a better way for us to keep track of our reads and share recommendations. There has to be right?"

Cat said she wished someone would build a BL app with everything already there. Me, a developer of almost thirty years, paused while a floodlight (not a light bulb) went off in my head.

“Well I could maybe build one… cause like, I build stuff. How would that be?”

By the end of the conversation Cat had invited me to build an app for BL.

Four weeks later, in late February of 2022, digitaljuicy.com was online.

In the last couple of years, I’ve been listening to the fandom, paying attention to feedback, poured over analytics, read your responses to the Reader’s Survey and continued to craft a platform with all this in mind.

What I have been building is 100% for us... there is nothing but BL and it is an attempt to encompass ALL of BL. Not just the bits and pieces.

But for two years I've been struggling. Struggling in many ways, but specifically to get what I wanted out of the platform. I tried and failed so many times.

In September of 2022 I tried to raise venture capital to build the platform I wanted for us. I pitched it to accelerators and true blue venture capital.

Juicy is what is called 'pre-seed'. Which means were still so new and evolving, under-resourced and while there was interest, there was no joy. No funding was raised.

In December 2023, I realised it was time to rethink Juicy. i have been on the deepest dive for months rebuilding Juicy from the ground up and preparing the framework for the mobile app.

I’ve built something I want to use… and wild, I’m building it and using it as a fan at the same time. I'm at the point where it's impossible not to want to share.

And what kind of platform do I mean? At its most basic level:

You can track your reads, watches and plays

You can review and recommend the titles to the community, your friends, strangers on Twitter, your friend you're trying to corrupt outside the fandom. Your poison.

Timelines for you, for titles, for episodes, chapters… just about everything. I mean everything: The creators, the publishers, the studios, the actors... you can leave reviews and status posts on EVERYTHING. No algorithms, no force feeding... just discovery, recommendations and honest reviews by this community about our community and the industry we feed.

Collections! Lists of stuff you're reading, dropped, want to read, want to buy, love or hate, all pretty and organised and shareable..

A growing database resource of titles, tagged up to its eyeballs with a minutiae of data.. with reading an streaming links and anything else we find that we think is relevant.

But it is also a lot more than this.

I wanted it to be more than what it was. I want to turn Juicy into a mobile app, add some more functionality and more specifically, platform all of BL for its non-Asian fandom.

We get left out of so much, I feel like we need our own thing.

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I was tired of being banned on social media for sharing content. How you gonna ban me for saying a 2D fictional character needs to be shot with shite and strung with cobweb? But they did… and I know it’s not just me.

What about the creators? How do they interface with the non-Japanese or non-Korean fandoms? On which misogynistic hell site?

What about the publishers and merchandisers? What about the little Etsy sellers? Why does BL have to hidden away in the databases of mangaupdates, anisearch and anilist? Why does every single manga tracker out there seem to have pitiful listings for BL?

Is it because we’re a female or queer audience?

Look at this lil video I made:

youtube

Either way, I’ve long felt it’s time for us to do our own thing. So I’ve been building it. Pixel by pixel. Feature by feature on my own.

Juicy has been a small chat group, but I’m the only developer. We’ve always been clear about what we wanted to build: A platform for the fandom, the creators, the publishers, the merchandisers… my goal is a one-stop platform for BL and I am damn close to presenting this new iteration.

This was and remains the core of what I’m building: The largest English platform for BL on the planet. The functionality is one thing, but building a database like that is not a one-person job.

So now I need your help.

First to keep the servers online, so I can continue to build and develop and finally, finally release the mobile app. I can't tell you how much I want that.

I’m close to pushing the new Juicy 3.0 out, and I’m very in love with the work I’ve done since December. It’s a new look, and it works 1000 times better than the previous iterations of Juicy.

I just have hit a wall financially, and need your help and support to get it over the line.

Juicy's ass is fat and I been carrying her mostly alone for two solid years.

I’m going to launch a Kickstarter for this project in a bit so I can hire another developer to help with the trickier bits and fine tune the mobile app, but for now, I felt a Patreon would at least help us keep the servers up and maybe, just maybe allow us to afford a few crucial bits that will elevate your experience as a user.

And because I’m a developer, and I can do some pretty kinky shit with APIs and such, if you support this Patreon campaign, you will get some nice feature perks on the platform automagically. You won’t have to pay again to access these perks in-app later.

As many perks as I can cook up anyway, not the least of which will be access to some of the nicer functions and features I’ve already built into the platform.

When the mobile app launches, you will get it first and for free! Plus we’ve been talking about a lot of other ways we can make the platform fun beyond what I've done already.

I plan to monetise the platform in various ways, but in a profit sharing model. You contribute to the database, you contribute content, you get a share of whatever the platform makes. This is already built into the system. This will be open to anyone willing, but to Patrons first.

Finally, I'm limiting the number of people who can subscribe via Patreon to 1000 people. Once we hit that number, the rolls will be closed to new membership, and everyone directed to the platform to pay for any services or merchandise.

My goal for this group of Patrons is that you become an exclusive and tightly knit inner circle.

My hope is that you will help me actively shape what Juicy will become. Your votes and say will carry weight. Your feature requests considered and if possible implemented first.

You will get access to exclusive merchandise, exclusive giveaways and promos (like free stuff), and exclusive programming from the team.

With your help we will produce an exclusive podcast for Patrons only discussing all things BL and Juicy (honestly our conversations are generally wild and hilarious... it will be a rollick for sure), along with other content for Patrons only. We've even planned watch parties and other fun shit... I swear, we want you all to be our greatest ambassadors so we are planning as many treats as we can.

Your access on the platform will be specific to your Patreon subscription and your treatment will be VIP for the life of your subscription.

Finally, the way my auADHD are set up, I have no interest in the dramas of the BL fandom, so this is never going to be about gatekeeping access to anything. It’s about making more access possible. You can help bring us all together and make us stronger as a group.

So do you think Digital Juicy sounds like something you’d like in on?

Okute Sea

Saezuru Murmurs

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multicolour-ink · 10 months

Note

Pre Canon prompt:

Mama Mario goes in for her ultrasound and finds out she's having twins.

But when she's shown the sonogram, she sees something that even baffles the technician: how the two fetuses seem to be hugging each other.

She takes the video and shows it to the family, with whatever reactions you want them to have.

And when she comes back for the other ultrasounds, it keeps happening. They may change positions or one may switch to hugging other, but there's always something like that going on.

And then, for the ending, when they're born, I'd LOVE for this to connect to Don’t Let Go, where you mentioned a memory of them seeing each other for the first time.

Request - Non Prompt

Whist I have mentioned I do not do requests, I did want to do this idea very badly, and only if someone sent it as a request. So here we are! Hope you like this @jellyfishinc!

Mentions of babies in the womb and various other pregancy related stuff.

Please note I am not an obstetrician, nor do I know that much about pregnancy or what is normally expected to be seen during an ultrasound, besides what I have read and been told.

Takes place pre-Mario Movie verse.

Mama Mario is called 'Mia' (as is headcanoned by the fandom)

- - -

I've Never Left Your Side

It was quite a joyous occasion, to say the least!

The moment the now soon to be parents had announced that they were expecting, the whole house was filled with the cheers and cries of elation! Marie had hugged Mia, Arthur had burst into tears, while Tony had joked about "getting a hole in one", until his eldest brother had threatened to throw him out the door!

"We must get ready for the new bambino!", said the now soon to be Nonno, who had neither cheered nor cried, but had sat there grinning ear to ear at the news.

Everyone had of course wanted to pitch in. Marie even taking the soon to be parents (and Arthur much to his reluctance) out to the baby stores.

* * *

It wasn't until they had to go to their first scan, at 12 weeks, did things really take a surprise!

"Well", said the obstetrician. "It seems to me everything is looking healthy. And by such wonderful luck, you're having twins!"

He pointed out the two moving shapes on the screen to the still stunned parents. Mia was clutching her husband's hand, her smile instantly wide and tears wetting her cheeks. The man who sat beside her was dumbfounded.

Two babies. Two babies. Who were there as dark shapes on the monitor (later Papa would admit that they looked like jelly beans to him). It was so much to take in.

The obstetrician carefully moved the scanner around on the woman's bump, so the he could get a slightly better look at the twins.

And what he saw made the obstetrician raise an eyebrow. One of the foetuses seemed to be "reaching" for the other, an arm outstretched to the full. The other was also reaching out, but seemingly more timidly. It was as if they were both expecting to hold hands.

""Well, they seem to know the other is there", chuckled the obstetrician. Congratulations you two."

The parents were beaming.

The two hugged each other before they drove back home, and Mia clutched the print of the ultrasound close to her heart the whole way.

* * *

They knew they weren't going to hear the end of it when they told everyone. And as expected, when they made the announcement at dinner, the uproar was tremendous.

Arthur burst out laughing so loud that Marie had to hit him on the back so he wouldn't choke on his wine. Tony spluttered and nudged his older brother.

"Hey he got two holes in one!"

His brother turned very red, and after a quick glance at his wife's expression that told him 'no it wasn't a good idea to consider throwing Tony out onto incoming traffic', he settled down, and informed the family that they would need to get two of everything, and that they would find out the gender on the next scan.

* * *

The next weeks passed by in a blur. Everyone was busy chipping in to provide any necessary means for the babies. As for the expectant mother, she had been surprisingly taking it all in her stride. Despite the occasional nausea and uncomfortableness, she was still beaming through it all. And she would always be rubbing her stomach and talking to the babies quietly when she had down time.

He husband on the other hand, had proven to be quite the mother hen during all this! He would call from work every 2 hours, asking if she was alright, and would promise to bring her whatever she needed. Of course things went a bit too far when he stole the sheets from all of the family beds, and was not able to replace them on account of the fact he had stolen every other piece of bedding from the cupboard.

It also didn't help that his work colleagues had frightened him with tales of their own children's births, and stuff about blood, and other terrifying things that could happen. Naturally they were just playing around, but it had frightened the soon to be father so much, that it took a call to the obstetrician to debunk these ridiculous claims. He had calmed down after that. A little.

He came back from work one day to find his wife sitting on the couch, her hands pressed gently on her tummy, smiling fondly.

She smiled up at him as he came in.

"Come feel", she whispered.

He eagerly came over. Sitting beside her, he gently pressed his larger palm onto her stomach. Instantly, he felt the tiny patter of movement, and his eyes shone.

His wife took a look at the first ultrasound photo.

"Do you think they will get along?", she asked.

He hesitated, unsure how to reply. But before he could think of anything, she turned to him and grinned.

"I think they will", she said. "I think they love each other already.

He husband smiled back and took her in his arms.

* * *

The second, and last, scan was to be more nerve-racking.

"Looks like everything is going smoothly", said the obstetrician as he moved the scanner around.

"This is the baby that will be born first", he said, pointing to the screen. "A bit bigger than the other, but not too much difference."

Then he suddenly frowned.

"That's...a little unusual", he said.

The parents leaned forward. What they saw was an extraordinary sight. The two babies, now at 24 weeks and not yet fully developed, seemed to be pressed against each other. The larger twin, for as tight as the room in there was, had its head angled in a way that its forehead was very close to the other twin's. The smaller twin in turn, was snuggled close to their sibling.

As the three of them watched, the smaller twin began to squirm, almost like they were having a bad dream. But the larger twin (to their astonishment) raised a hand and moved it slowly and carefully against the space near its twin's head. And all at once, the smaller twin became still and calm.

The three adults in the room were silent. Then Mia turned to her husband, and he knew immediately what she was thinking.

"They won't be able to feel each other", explained the obstetrician. "I doubt they are even aware of each other's touch yet. It's more likely the shared space and weight of each other they are aware of."

"Please can we take a copy with us?", the woman pleaded.

"Of course, smiled the obstetrician.

"Would you be able to tell us the gender?", Papa blurted out, almost forgetting in the rush of excitement.

"Certainly!", replied the obstetrician.

He ran some more scans, took some readings, then he turned to the expectant parents.

"Well", he said, his smile gentle. "You two are having twin boys."

* * *

The lead up to the birth was yet another blur. As soon as the whole household was aware that twin boys were arriving, the excitement was even more abuzz.

Mia had taken to spending the last months of her pregnancy making matching hats for her sons. One red, one green. Both with initials for the chosen names the parents (and by extension the rest of the family) had agreed on.

Her husband had come back from work one evening to find her once again working on this project.

"You need to rest", he fretted. "The doctor said you need your strength when...", he trailed off.

"I'm fine", Mia laughed. "I am tired, but I will go to bed as soon as I finish this stitching."

Her husband sat across from her. He continued to watch as she sewed the initial (an M) on the red hat.

"I wonder what they will be like", he said. A smile crept under his moustache.

Mia stopped her work, and put her hand onto her stomach. She closed her eyes, then opened them again with a content sigh.

"I think...they'll have each other."

Her husband frowned. Then he spotted the printout of the last scan lying beside her.

He hesitated.

"The doctor did say that they can't really feel each other. I mean...it is unusual. But one of the guys at work...well he was saying that his friend had twins and...well they didn't get along. They still don't. I mean, they are siblings, they get along like that, but they were different...and..."

"Whatever they are like", said Mia, dragging her husband out of his thoughts, "Whatever they choose to be as people, we will love them. And I know they will love each other."

She held out her hand. She couldn't lean forward now due to her vast stomach, so her husband leaned forward instead, and gently clasped her hand in his own.

She rubbed her stomach again

"I just...have this feeling. I feel like...they know each other already..."

Her husband didn't have anything else to add, and just sat with her in content silence.

* * *

The new papa was crying.

His sons. Their sons, were perfect.

After many hours of labour and frantic panic, they were here. Lying side by side in their mother's arms, sleeping peacefully.

"They're beautiful", Mia cried, as her husband gently stroked his large finger down each of the twin's cheeks.

"And they have each other", her husband smiled.

Both the twins seemed to stir. Then very slowly, they opened their eyes for the first time, and peered at each other.

Neither parent could ever say what kind of exchange was happening between them, but as the babies smiled and took each other in, they seemed to say

"Hi. I know you."

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rainydayathogwarts · 12 days

Text

Ron weasley - Opposite teams

Summary: You play a match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser. wc: 2k

Seeing him on the pitch shouldn't have had such an effect on you, especially considering you were playing for the opposite team. The gear looked good on him, and confidence was beaming off his skin, but you were one of the best chasers at Hogwarts, priding yourself on how rarely you missed a shot. "Pull yourself together Y/N!" Flint yelled at your frozen form, still in shock of what had happened. It was all because Ron had flashed you that stupidly gorgeous smile when you were about to score that you hesitated - hesitated enough for him to read your body language and predict your next move, easily catching the quaffle when you threw it. Even your boyfriend had been surprised, well aware of how good you played from years of watching you on the field.

"Wow! It seems as though L/N is too charmed by her boyfriend to get a good shot, this is a new one folks!" Begins Lee, rousing up those in the bleachers. "And it looks like Slytherin Captain Flint is calling for a time out! Good choice I'd say!" It was already embarrassing enough that the entire school knew the time out was being called because you were too hot and bothered by your boyfriend, but your face flushed a dark red the second the Slytherin team turned to look at you in disappointment. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me, he's just so- I can't be the primary shooter I'm sorry!" The entire team looked back at you as you rambled and you felt your face get impossibly warmer realising you were gushing about your boyfriend to six teenage boys. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

"Y/N's right," Starts Flint again, "She shouldn't be the primary shooter for this game..." His voice trails off and your gaze drifting to where to Gryffindor team stands. You can see them laughing for a moment, and Harry pats Ron on the back - the reason you missed literally couldn't have been more obvious and they were having a field day about it. "Got it Y/N?" Your head snaps back to Flint, looking at you with raised eyebrows. Your face goes blank, your mouth opening as though to say 'what' but nothing comes out. "You'll switch places with Nott as secondary." Malfoy says quietly to you, and you perk up "Yes, got it!" Flint doesn't look convinced, but calls time out to be over anyway, and everyone gets back on their brooms.

"Stay focused or I'll knock your boyfriend off his broom!" The remark is clearly aimed at you, but is loud enough for both teams to hear and you glance at Ron, whose face has blanched at the comment. You turn away from him, trying not to smile, and the whistle blows. Nott scores time after time after time, and you can see your boyfriend's confidence decreasing while his anger increases. Nott passes you, high-fiving you on the way back to his post. "Good strategy change by the Slytherin team, it seems that they're back - OHH AND MALFOY CATCHES THE SNITCH, GAME OVER EVERYONE!" You're relieved to be off your broom when the game end and you sigh deeply, rolling your head in a circle to try and stretch a kink in your neck out.

You finally join your team, earning pats on the back by them, and teasing comments "Well he's not gonna be happy about that one." and "Good luck getting laid tonight." The comments follow you all the way back to your dorm since Pansy walks with you back to the common room. "I don't even know how that happened though! You never miss! Like you can't be so attracted to someone that, well that happens. He's going to be in such a prissy mood, good luck with that."

The party in the common room is in full blow when you finish showering and getting dressed. You're clad in a tight black mini-skirt with a red crop top, something your boyfriend will hopefully appreciate. "I see what you're doing." You're interrupted by Draco, who eyes your outfit once before handing you a drink. "I think you underestimate just how capable I am of getting my boyfriend in bed, Malfoy." He grins, shaking his head "Well if you have the effect on him that he had on you, I doubt it'll take much." You scoff in amusement, the jokes will never end. "Hey if Marcus asks where I am, don't tell him I'm sleeping with the enemy." But Flint is already beside you, muttering "Cheers" under his breath, so you scurry away quietly, starting your trek to the Gryffindor common room.

The Gryffindors' party is completely different. The music in the background is quiet, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team sits together, each player with a drink in hand while they talk. Others seem to be having more fun than them. When Ron spots you walking towards him, he rolls his eyes, clearly upset. His teammates, on the other hand, greet you kindly, some even joking about the slight incident on the field. You stand in front of Ron, putting a knee on the couch between his legs to support yourself when you put your hands on his shoulder, leaning into his body.

Despite Ron's free hand coming to the back of your thigh, he still mutters "I'm not in the mood." though he leans into your touch when one of your hands comes up to play with his hair. You tilt your head down so your lips barely graze his ear "You're so hot when you're angry." Ron stiffens, looking up at you, but your head is already dipping lower so you can press kisses on his neck. He shivers at the cool touch of your slightly wet hair on his collarbone, and his eyes flutter close for a moment. When he opens them back up, Harry is grinning at him and wiggling his eyebrows. Someone wolf whistles, but he doesn't know if it's directed to you. He feels your teeth graze the spot you've been sucking on right below his eye and he sighs, trying to disguise his pleasure as annoyance, pushing your hip away from him.

Yes, he wants you, but he has to at least pretend that he doesn't for a while longer because he's still angry, and wants you to feel as though you need to try a little to win him over. You've played his game before, and you know what follows. When Ron nudges at your hips one more time, you separate from him, tilting his chin up so he can look at you. He's putty in your hands, but you like to give him the illusion of being in control, so when you kiss him, it's a soft, almost desperate kiss. "Ronnie," you plead "Please." And that soft whisper is enough to make him begin to stand up. You back away, pushing your bottom lip forward and making doe eyes at your boyfriend to stop yourself from grinning in accomplishment.

His shoulder brushes past you and he begins walking up to his dorm, but when you catch up with him, snaking your hand in his, he only holds your hand tighter, so you know you've won. Ron's door slams shut behind you, and immediately, hands are on you, pushing you against the door and groping your ass while he kisses you aggressively. The kiss is filled with angry passion, and Ron's tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. Both your arms are thrown over Ron's shoulder in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer to you so your tits are pushed up into his chest. The hands on your ass move to your front, sliding up your crop top and cupping your tits, while Ron pulls away from the kiss to attack your neck.

Moans are immediately escaping your mouth in soft breaths, your back arching into Ron's hands, pulling and massaging at your breasts, teasing your nipples. His teeth bite at your neck, and one leg comes to shove itself right between your thighs and you jerk up, an electric shock being sent right through you. At your loud gasp, Ron looks down to where his leg connected with your cunt, and his hand immediately pushes your skirt up to find that you're not wearing panties. "What a little slut. No underwear under a mini-skirt? You're practically begging." He grunts, and you whine, grinding your pussy against his thigh. "Just for you, Ronnie."

The comment seems to make him happy, at least happier than he was before since he starts working on taking your top off. "Get this skirt off now." He mutters, his attention back on your tits the second they're exposed. Your bra drops to the floor at the same time your skirt does. Ron pulls away from where he was leaving hickeys on your tits, and takes a moment to oggle at your naked body. You falter under his stare, a hand coming up to grab the material of his t-shirt. "Ron?" At the sound of his name, he looks back up, taking an impossible step closer to you and pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. "You're so fucking amazing." He mutters between kisses, all of his previous anger seemingly gone "Don't deserve this. Don't deserve you." Before you can react to his words, his hands are wrapping around your waist and carrying you to his bed, where he immediately shuts the curtains of his four-poster.

He wastes no time pressing his clothed cock against your naked, which has you moaning his name, bucking your hips up for more friction. "Take it off, take it off." You beg. He complies, chuckling at the sight of your hips bucking up, but takes his time stroking his cock once it's finally freed. His demeanour completely flips the second he pushes into you; his hips snapping at a faster pace than you can keep track of, his hands grabbing both your legs to pull over his shoulders. The angle is perfect and with the way his cock is hitting the right spot with every stroke, you're sure you won't last ten minutes.

You're tightly gripping the bed sheets and you're almost positive that your eyes are going to get stuck at the back of your head because of how hard they're rolling back. "Mmph, bloody hell you feel so nice." The compliment only spurred the pleasure inside you and you moaned louder, bucking your hips up for something more - anything more. Ron's hand comes down to your clit in a harsh slap, and quickly starts putting pressure on it, watching as you squirmed underneath him at the extra friction. His pace sped up and your legs started to shake on his shoulders, a sign that you were clearly close. Ron's hand begins rubbing quick circles on your clit and hips start erratically jerking into you as he releases his load into you, triggering your very own orgasm.

Ron rides out both your orgasms, stilling his movements when you put a hand on his chest. He pants, his chest heaving with every breath he takes as he takes your legs off his shoulders. "Christ, that was too much exercise for one day." He mutters, looking down at you when you open your arms wide for him. He falls into your awaiting arms and mumbles "Can't sleep. Need to clean you up." You moan, shaking your head at him. "Just five minutes."

#harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley fanfiction #ron wealsey #ronald weasley #ron weasley smut #ron weasley #ron wealsey x y/n #rainydayathogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp #potter #captain flint #draco malfoy #theodore nott

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hllfireclb · 1 year

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Hey there!!! I hope you got the request box open :D. I have an idea for a fluff. Reader is cold and her feet are frozen during winter. So eddie her BFF tries to warm her cold feet while they are watching TV on the sofa the thing is that he tells her that her feet need to be up in the air for blood circulation, but reader complains and decides to rub her feet on under Eddie's sweat. He realizes the position in which are. Eddie in his knees in front of her like in +18 way. He insinuates her which makes her shy out of sudden, eddie likes to meet with her hehe. I leave you out the rest, thank you for reading ❤️

This is so cute!! I am SO sorry that this took so incredibly long omg. I hope I didn‘t misunderstood the kneeling part? Anyway I hope you can enjoy this small fic!

Warm you up | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Pairing: best friend to lovers Kinda? (Eddie Munson xFem!reader)

Warnings: fluff, mention of drugs, mention of smut so +18 kinda, best friends to lovers trope (hihi)

Word count: 848

English is not my first language, so I apologize for all kinds of mistakes! Feel free to send requests! feedback is always appreciated but please be nice! Don’t like? Don’t read! Enjoy the story

It‘s a cold winter evening in Hawkins, Indiana. One of the coldest you‘ve experienced so far. Normally you don’t have a problem with the cold because you’re all cuddled up in your bedroom, millions of pillows surrounding you together with blankets and your heater turned on until you‘re sweating. Unfortunately that isn’t the place you’re in right now.

Right now you‘re settled on your best friends sofa, in his cold trailer, in the middle of the night. The air is filled with music and the smell of weed coming from the joint that Eddie smoked earlier that evening.

Normally this would be your favorite place to be in, like normally, but right now you regret that the two of you didn’t meet at your place. The temperature is way below zero and it feels like the trailer is freezing from the inside.

"Eddie it‘s too cold! My feet will fall off any minute" You whine out loud as you look up from where you’re lying right now, Eddie in front of you. He looks at you with a raised brow and the, usual smug grin, on his lips "Well that means it won’t smell like cheese in here ever again" he teases but you‘re not having it right now. Normally his stupid jokes would make you all giggly and cause you to blush but right now, you could slap him for any kind of stupid comment.

"Edward." You warn, glaring over to him and he lifts his hands up in the air, showing you that he doesn’t want to start a fight. He never would do that, the fear of losing you because of his cockiness is way too big.

The TV in the background fills the silence which lingers in the air, some horror movie you‘ve rented from FamilyVideo earlier still playing on the screen as you whine again.

Eddie shifts a bit, putting some pressure on his elbows to sit up and look at you "You know…I’ve heard that you should put your feets up if they are cold. For blood circulation, y‘know?".

The only answer he gets from you is another long, high-pitched whine as you shake your head dramatically, causing your best friend to let a soft sigh escape his lips, followed by a chuckle. A sound that makes you shiver all the time. He leans up further to get a better look at you, now resting on his hands as he kind of kneels in front of you. The position he‘s in gives you perfect access to see his tummy and happy trail when suddenly an idea pops up in your mind.

An evil idea.

He‘s about to grab your feet with one hand when you suddenly shove them under the fabric of his sweater, grinning at him when he gasps loudly. He definitely wasn’t prepared for the sudden contact of your cold skin against his burning hot skin.

"Y/n wtf!? Are you crazy!?" He yells out as he tries to shift away from you but when you lock your feet behind his back it‘s impossible for him to move anywhere but closer to you. That’s how he ends up leaning forward so that he’s fully kneeling in between your legs, slightly hovering above you, causing him to hold himself up with one hand.

"That‘s way better! Thank you Ed‘s" you simply give him an innocent smile, acting like he‘s not just a few centimeters away from your lips, acting like you can’t feel his hot breath against your skin and not hearing his heartbeat going a thousand miles per hour. The way your feet keep him in place, doesn’t make it easier for him too. Eddie‘s heart feels like it’s about to explode.

Of course he‘s been close to you before, you’ve cuddled a million of times by now, also shared a few soft kisses on the head of cheek sometimes, but being in between your legs while feeling your cold skin, makes him feel dizzy in so many ways. His body is covered in goosebumps and when tries to look at you properly, he just see‘s a sleepy Y/n beneath him. Eyes closed and hands touching his arm carefully. All the naughty thoughts Eddie had a few seconds ago are definitely gone now.

He‘s looking at you in pure awe. The way you feel so safe and comfortable with him, that you almost fall asleep under him, just because of his body temperature makes him feel special in so many ways. It‘s been almost 3 years and the poor boy still doesn’t know what he did to deserve an angel like you. Someone so amazing and adorable.

"I‘ll warm you up, don’t worry Sweetheart." He whispers against your skin when he slowly tries to get comfortable on top of you. Your hand finds it’s way into the messy curls of his faster than he expected, smiling into your well his shirt when he hears your soft snores above him. Next time you’re cold, he‘s definitely gonna warm you up again, doesn’t matter how ;)

masterlist

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #eddie oneshot #eddie one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson best friend #best friend to lovers #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fluff #he is so cute Wth

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mirisss · 8 months

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Pick-up lines & Library kisses

Pairing: Jock! Sunwoo x afab! nerd! Reader

Wordcount ≈ 2.1k

Warnings: very cliche, overuse of the word ‘cute’, Sunwoo sorta kissing reader with consent, flirting, I think that’s it.

Summary: Kim Sunwoo is a campus flirt, well known for his attractiveness, his skills as a soccer player, his extroversion, and mostly for his flirtatious ways. The man can flirt with a wall and make it blush. Though the only one he wants to flirt with is Lee (Y/n), the cute girl who spends most of her time in the library reading books, and, unfortunately, doesn’t pay him any attention.

Note: (Y/n) is Juyeon’s younger sister. All the boys are the same age, (Y/n) is a year younger. Though you can imagine her looking any way you want, if it helps imagine them being like step-siblings or something.

Please reblog!

Sunwoo’s POV

“Great practice today boys! Keep up this energy for tomorrow and we’ll win the match!” As the coach yelled out his points for tomorrow I looked toward the bleachers, looking for a certain someone who would probably be nose-deep in a book of some kind. “Looking for your girlfriend?” Changmin jokingly said as he came up to me. I tutted, “She’s not my girlfriend, idiot,” “I heard Juyeon say that (Y/n) was gonna be in the library with Chanhee,” Eric said as he came over to the two. “Yah, don’t be so loud, it’s bad enough that pretty much all of the team knows of my crush, if Juyeon finds out, he’ll kill me,” “Dude, he already knows, I mean it’s so obvious that you’re head over heels for (Y/n),” I pushed Changmin and Eric a little as they taunted me. “SHUT UP! You idiots,” “(Y/n)!” I almost jumped a meter in the air as Juyeon called out his sister’s name. She was jogging over to him, she was facing down to the ground as she was embarrassed, she’s quite shy, how, I don’t know. “Juuu, don’t be so loud,” “Sorry sis, did you find the book you were looking for?” “No, the system said they should have it but I can’t find it anywhere, Chanhee and I looked through the entire fantasy section but couldn’t find it,” (Y/n) was pouting as she looked up at her brother, (Y/n) loved reading and she would often sit on the bleachers reading during soccer practice to wait for her brother, I loved when she did that because it gave me more time during the day to admire her beauty and also to do this: “If you wanna live out a fantasy, I’m right here,” (Y/n) looked at me as I began talking and she blushed and looked away as I ended my line with a wink. “Watch your mouth, number 19. Wouldn’t wanna be number benched tomorrow, right?” Juyeon gave me a friendly glare while threatening me. Though I knew he would never bench me as I’m the star player, I still raised my hands in the air as we all laughed. Throughout the years of knowing Juyeon and (Y/n), I’ve always felt something special for (Y/n). (Y/n) though, has probably never taken me seriously, whenever I tried to flirt with her or do anything to get closer she would always just look away and tell me to “be serious” before she would return to her books. “Can we go home now? I have to try to find my book somewhere else,” “Yeah, come on, I just have to get my bag. Wanna start walking to the car?” “Mm, see ya there,” “I’ll walk with you,” I quickly offered before she walked off. “See ya tomorrow, Sunwooooo,” Eric said in a high-pitched voice as he blinked his eyes at me, I’m so getting him back someday.

(Y/n) and I walked in silence for a while, (Y/n) looked literally anywhere that wasn’t me. “So, what book were you looking for today?” “Um, it’s this one book, it’s quite new, so it’s popular, but the status in the library finally said it was available, however, someone must have taken it without logging in and checking it out, because Chanhee and I searched through the entire section without finding it and the librarian didn’t know where it was either,” (Y/n) began talking about the book, telling me pretty much every piece of information she knew on the book except for the name of it. She was so excited and cute. Too soon we had reached her brother’s car and this also marked the end of our conversation, if you can even call it that. “Why don’t you try looking for the book again tomorrow? I can help you during lunch and even after classes too, I have some time before the match,” “You don’t have to help me, thanks though. But I’ll just ask Ju and maybe Jacob to help me,” “Come on, Juyeon will be busy preparing for the match as the captain since Sangyeon is sick, and Cobbie is supposed to help Haknyeon with some project, so just let me help you, I’m good at finding things,” “Like what?” “Like your cuteness or your adorable smile,” “Be serious, Woo,” “I am serious, let me help you?” “Alright, thanks Sunwoo,” “See you tomorrow, cutie,” I gave her a wink and a little wave before I walked away.

Third person POV

A few minutes later Juyeon came up to the car and we got in and drove home. “I’m sorry I can’t help you search for your book tomorrow, I just have a lot of preparations to make for the game and I’m also working with Kevin to prepare some things for the dance on Saturday, maybe we can go on Monday?” “It’s fine Ju, don’t worry about it. Sunwoo said he would help me tomorrow so hopefully, we can find it. If not, I’ll just have to wait until I find it. Oh, by the way, how’s the dance prep going? Chanhee said that they were a bit behind schedule since Younghoon caught a cold,” “Well, yeah it’s a bit behind schedule with prepping the dance hall so Sangyeon, Hyunjae, Eric, and I are gonna help them after the game tomorrow so I can’t drive you home cause we’re gonna stay until everything is fixed,” “I can help out too, the dance committee really need to get some more members, there’s so few of them,” “No, you should go home tomorrow, or you won’t have any energy for the dance. And, yeah, you’re right, the dance committee is so short-staffed, everyone loves their events but no one wants to help them,” “Mm, I’ll text Yeji and ask if she can give me a ride, it’s on the way for her anyway,” “I don’t think she can, Yeji and the other cheerleaders are doing prep of their own for the dance,” “Oh, then I guess I’ll just take the bus,” “I could ask Sunwoo to take you home, he’s not helping out with the dance prep cause I’m scared he’ll start bickering with Chanhee and ruin something,” (Y/n) looked at her brother a bit quizzically, (Y/n) was pretty confident that Sunwoo had a crush on her and if she knew, that meant Juyeon definitely knew. (Y/n) was surprised that Juyeon would still allow Sunwoo to be close to her, last time someone had a crush on her, Juyeon literally chased the guy away, with the help of his teammates. “I wouldn’t want to bother, Sunwoo, I can just get home on my own,” “He’ll gladly do it, besides I don’t want you to go home on your own that late. Here, take my phone and text him,” “Okay,” (Y/n) took Juyeon’s phone and opened it to text Sunwoo. *Hey, can you drive (Y/n) home tomorrow after the game?* *Yeah, absolutely, no problem, see ya tomorrow, cap* “He said he’ll take me home tomorrow,” “Great,” Not long after, the two siblings arrived home, ate dinner, and then headed to bed.

Sunwoo’s POV

I swear that time was moving slower than ever this morning. My classes seemed to take forever, maybe I was just too eager to meet up with (Y/n), I don’t know but I’m certain that the clock in that lecture hall was only moving every fifth minute instead of each second. Not a second too late the lunch bell rang and I ran out of the room to begin sprinting toward the library, where I was gonna meet (Y/n). “(Y/n)! Cute shirt,” As soon as I reached her I noticed her wearing a very familiar t-shirt, it just so happened that Juyeon accidentally brought one of my t-shirts with him home one day and (Y/n) probably thought the shirt belonged to Juyeon, but nope, it’s mine. “Hi Sunwoo, thanks, it’s Juyeon’s shirt, it was cool so I took it, he didn’t seem to notice though,” I couldn’t help but smile even wider at how cute she was as she looked down at the print on the t-shirt. “You sure it’s Juyeon’s?” “I mean I took it from his wardrobe so I’m pretty sure,” “Have you ever seen him wearing it?” We walked into the library and began scanning the fantasy section for her book without her answering my question, she looked really focused so I thought she might have forgotten about the question. “Now that you mention it, no. I’ve never seen him wear it but I think I remember seeing someone else wearing it,” “Really? Who?” She looked toward me with a somewhat embarrassed look, “You,” I tried to quiet down my laugh as I nodded resulting in her blushing like crazy. “That’s right, it’s my shirt. However, I think it might be yours now, 'cause you look so cute in it,” I walked closer to her while she covered her face with her hands. “(Y/n)?” “Yeah?” “Look at me,” “No,” “I found your book,” She removed her hands from her face and looked up at me happily, “REAL-mm?!” I swooped down and gave her a peck on her lips, “Shh, we’re in a library,” (Y/n) froze, she just stood there staring at me while one of her hands lightly covered her lips. “Why?” “Why what?” “Why did you kiss me Sunwoo?” “Because I like you,” “Seriously?” “Yes, (Y/n) I’ve liked you for a long time and I haven’t been subtle about it, I’m surprised you didn’t know already. So, do you like me back?” “Mmm, I will if you can find my book for me,” “That’s easy then, considering that I did find it,” I reached over her head and took down a book, the one she had been looking for, and handed it to her. “But, I searched for hours yesterday, how could you just find it in 30 minutes??” “I had my good luck charm with me, everything is easy when I have you with me, but, since I found it, that means you like me?” She turned her back to me as she clutched the book to her chest. “Yeah, I like you,” She tried to walk away from me but I followed after her, probably smiling like a dork because I was so happy. As we stepped out of the library (Y/n) finally stopped to look back at me for a second and then she began walking again. “Wait, (Y/n), I have two very important questions to ask you,” She stopped and turned to face me once more, her face was as red as a tomato from how much she was blushing. She’s so cute. “Alright, what’s the questions?” “This isn’t one of them but do you not want to spend time with me? You seem to want to run away?” “I’m embarrassed and don’t know what to do right now, I need to find Chanhee to get advice,” “You don’t have to be embarrassed, I like you and you like me, no need to feel embarrassed. Anyway, my first question: (Y/n), would you do me the honor of going to the dance with me?” “Yes, I’d like that,” “Great, secondly: be my girlfriend?” She took a step closer to me and leaned a little closer, kissed me on the cheek, whispered ‘yes’ and then she ran away before I could react. “See ya after school, good luck on the match, bye,” She shouted as she ran. “YESSSSSS!” I shouted and did a little dance before I walked toward my next class. Lee (Y/n) is officially my girlfriend and I couldn’t be happier, let’s just hope Juyeon doesn’t kill me for dating his sister.

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da-proti-toku-grem · 12 days

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This little fic was heavily inspired by the wonderful moodboard that @thegengarprincess shared with me and the little story attached to it so, thank you very much for sharing it with me and I hope you like this 🥰

sweet knowing that i love you, and running my fingers through your hair (read on AO3)

Allowing themselves to buy so many sweets for their movie date wasn't that good of an idea to begin with.

The fact that they practically managed to finish all of them before the ads were over and the movie started probably made it even worse – no one really wanted to be sitting near two puppies high on sugar during a movie if we're being honest.

After all, they managed to behave fairly well – if you don't count all the times Bojan let out a high-pitched squeal and cuddled up to Jure every time there was a jumpscare in the movie, resulting in a far too loud chuckle from the drummer and several exasperated sighs from those seated near them – and they made it to the end of the movie without being kicked out.

Jure found himself being pulled by the hand by Bojan, who was running excitedly towards the arcade right next to the movie theater.

“Jure, look, there's a golden retriever plushie!” Bojan exclaimed when they reached one of the claw machines, a big smile spreading across his face.

“Do you want me to get it for you?” Jure immediately offered, smiling back at him.

“Would you?” the brunet asked. As if Jure could ever say no to those adorable puppy eyes.

“Of course, baby.”

After a few attempts, the blond was able to catch the stuffed animal, dropping it in the corresponding place. As soon as he bent down to pick it up, Bojan quickly jumped on his back, almost causing them both to fall to the ground as he let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy, planting a loud kiss on the older guy's cheek.

“Thank you, muca,” beamed Bojan when he was once again face to face with Jure.

“You're welcome,” he said, booping his nose with the plushie, making him giggle. “Do you wanna try any other game or do you wanna go home now?”

“No!” he pouted, “I want to get the alpaca for you now.”

Could this man be any more adorable?

“You don’t have to, Bojč,” Jure tried to convince him, but was immediately cut off by the singer.

“But I want to! Can't I be a good fiancé and get my soon-to-be husband an alpaca plush because I love him very much?” His attempt to sound angry failed miserably as he was hugging the stuffed puppy close to his chest and several strands of soft hair were falling over his eyes. Cute.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender and immediately bringing one of them up to the brunet's hair, tucking that unruly lock behind his ear and cupping his cheek, not missing the way he leaned into the touch before adding, “we still have a few more coins left so…”

“Yay!” Bojan whooped, turning back to the machine and inserting a coin.

The first attempts were not very successful, but with a lot of dedication and the drummer's moral support, Bojan seemed to be getting closer to his goal.

“Dammit, I almost got it this time,” he groaned.

“We only have one coin left, Bojči.”

“Really? Well, this has to be the good one then.”

He inserted the coin, moving the control and making sure the claw was positioned just above the alpaca before pressing the button. They both watched intently as the claw came down, grabbed the alpaca's head and picked it up, slowly making its way back to where it came from, just above the hole.

Just when it looked like they had it, however, the stuffed animal's paws collided with the plastic surrounding it, causing the claw to release it and fall back down along with the others.

“Seriously?” Bojan said, in his voice a mixture of anger and disappointment.

“Hey, it's fine,” the blond said softly, resting a hand on his lower back.

“But... I wanted to get it for you,” he pouted, not quite meeting his boyfriend's gaze.

“Don't worry about it, okay?” Jure's fingers went to his chin, lifting it until brown eyes met blue ones. “We already have a lot of them with the ones the fans give us at concerts, anyways. I think one day we'll have enough alpacas to make an army,” he added, eliciting a small chuckle and a mumbled ‘yeah’ from Bojan.

At that moment, Jure remembered something.

“Wait, I think I know something that will cheer you up.”

“Do you have another coin?” The younger asked, hopeful.

“No, but I think it's better.”

“What is it then?”

The way he tilted his head curiously had no right to be so adorable. Just like a puppy.

“Just... Wait here for a minute,” he smiled.

“But-” Jure shut him up with a short kiss.

“Just a minute, I promise.”

“Okay...”

Just as promised, Jure was back a little over a minute later, a pleased smile on his face and holding a balloon in one hand. It was one of those transparent balloons with little colored lights and Bojan couldn't help the way his face lit up the moment he saw it.

And there it was, that beautiful, bright smile that reached up to his eyes, the ones that shone almost as bright as the stars that painted the night sky.

Bojan ran towards him, pulling him into a crushing hug. “You like it?”

“I love it! Thank you so much, Jurček.”

With a last kiss on the younger's forehead, they left the arcade, Bojan with the puppy plush under his arm and holding the balloon with the other, giggling happily when Jure placed an arm around him as they walked in the direction of their car.

“Oh wait, I forgot something,” Jure said, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the empty sidewalk.

“What is it?” Bojan began to speak, only to be interrupted when the older man turned him around until they were face to face and tried to give him a kiss.

The kiss never came, though, as they both felt the stuffed animal being squeezed between their bodies, the unexpected – and quite squishy – barrier separating them causing them to burst into laughter.

Slowly, the singer removed the arm holding the plush animal from between their bodies. Jure took it as an opportunity to take his other hand in his own gently.

“Careful! You're gonna make the balloon fly away!”

“Oh, is the balloon more important than your future husband?” The blond responded, bringing a hand to his chest in mocked offense.

“Uhmm…” Bojan pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Yeah.”

Jure gasped. “I see how it is,” he said, making them laugh loudly once again.

“Well, want me to hold this for you?” he offered then.

Bojan nodded but, as he was about to hand him the balloon, the drummer quickly dodged it, holding his waist instead and pulling him closer until he was pressed flush against his chest.

“Smooth,” Bojan whispered, breath ghosting against the other's lips before closing the distance in a long, tender kiss.

~~~~

The drive back home was quick and, not too long after, they both walked through the door of their shared apartment.

After leaving their stuff in the living room, changing out of the clothes they were wearing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth, Jure put his phone charging and lay on his back on the bed, waiting for Bojan to come out of the bathroom.

As soon as he did, the singer threw himself on the bed, lying on top of the blond and wrapping his arms tightly around him. “Now you're trapped.”

“You know I can easily pick you up and throw you out of my way, right?”

“Yeah, but you won't.”

“Oh, and why's that?”

“Because you love me,” Bojan replied, smugly.

Jure couldn't help but chuckle. “Yeah, I do.”

Just when Jure was starting to feel his eyelids grow heavy, Bojan cursed under his breath. “Oh sranje, wait.” And, before the older could ask what was wrong, Bojan quickly got up and rushed out of the bedroom. A few seconds later, he appeared at the door again, holding a familiar golden retriever plushie in his arms.

“Almost forgot about my fiancé’s latest gift.“

The drummer smiled up at him, opening his arms in a silent offer Bojan would never dare to refuse, climbing back into his embrace.

“Now I have two cute puppies to cuddle with, isn't that awesome?” he said, making the younger giggle.

“I love you so much, kitty,” Bojan said softly, as if it were a secret only they were meant to know, tipping his neck back a little until he left a sweet kiss on his lover's lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

Jure brought his hand up, caressing his soft brown hair as the singer nuzzled up against his neck.

“I can’t wait ‘till I finally get to call you my husband.”

“Me neither,” he said, leaving a gentle kiss on the top of his head before they both drifted off to sleep.

#title from Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex #i intended this to be a very short thing at first so that's why the action moves really fast in the beginning #but then i got a bit carried away and it turned out way longer than i thought it would #so i hope it's not too weird to read or smth idk #joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jure maček #bojure #mine #maca writes

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leiawritesstories · 10 months

Text

PART TWO: FEBRUARY

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: graphic violence, alcohol, mentions of homicide, Sam, police bureaucracy, innuendo

All the thanks once again to @house-of-galathynius for beta reading 🫶

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“P-please,” stammered the man chained to the steel wall, his voice pitched high with terror. “I sw-swear, I don’t know anything a-at-at all.” Dark, wet patches marred his torn clothing–the stains of blood, sweat, urine, and pure uninhibited fear.

Rowan rolled his eyes and idly danced a small knife across his gloved knuckles. “If you knew nothing, Mr. Wilkins, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He was pleasantly surprised it had taken this long for Cairn Wilkins to start talking, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed drawing out the interrogation as long as possible. Perhaps he could speed things up…“Mr. Wilkins, why did you blow up your own warehouse?”

Despite the way his body must have been screaming in pain, Cairn managed to stiffen his spine and muster a glare. “I d-didn’t blow up–” a deep, raspy breath–“my own fucking warehouse.”

“Who did?” Feigning disinterest, Rowan flexed his black-gloved hand atop his black-clad thigh, drumming his fingers against his sturdy cargo pants.

Cairn coughed and spat blood. “The fuck should I know?”

Faster than a cobra, Rowan struck. His brass-knuckled fist slammed into Cairn’s already-broken ribs hard enough to deepen the break, making the man groan deeply, his breath reduced to a sputtering wheeze. “I can smell your bullshit,” he said flatly. “Who was it?”

“Fuck…you.” A second later, Cairn screamed, writhing in his bonds as a long, narrow strip of his skin fell to the concrete floor, landing with a soft, wet thwack.

His face utterly bored, Rowan flicked the short, slender knife back into his sleeve. “The sooner you spit out a name, the sooner that person pays.” He had a sense that appealing to Cairn’s obvious greed would provide the last bit of convincing needed. He was right.

“Th-that…fucking Gal-Gala-Galathynius bitch,” Cairn wheezed, fury flashing across his battered face.

Rowan raised a skeptical brow. “You mean the Galathynius who was seen lounging on the roof of her building on that night? The Galathynius who was miles away from your pathetic little warehouse? That Galathynius?”

“That bitch–” Cairn paused to spit out another mouthful of blood. “Did it.”

“Hmm.” Rowan mulled over the information and shrugged. “You seem convinced. Now, while we’re on the topic, why would Galathynius blow up your warehouse?”

Cairn’s glare, though quickly overtaken by agony, was venomous enough to kill. “Because that bitch knew I was coming for her.” Once he’d started ranting, he couldn’t seem to stop. “She killed my– uh, Arobynn in cold blood. Some fucking bullshit about how he was a sleazy criminal bastard who didn’t deserve to live. She’s got it in her stupid head that she’s cleansing the world of v-vil-villains–” he paused to gasp for breath–“and I’m next on the fucking list.”

“That was quite a speech.” Rowan’s tone was as dry as the Red Desert. And yet…something about Cairn’s unhinged rambling clicked with his theory. Cleansing the world of villains. He almost snorted out loud. Maybe if Aelin Galathynius wasn’t a villain herself, he’d believe it. “So what, you were going to end her before she ended you or some shit?”

“Yeah.”

At that, Rowan did snort out a laugh. “Sometimes, I can’t fucking believe the shit I hear.” He stared at Cairn for a moment. “Thank you for the information.” With that, he slammed his fist into the man’s temple, knocking him out cold, then exited the warehouse and nodded to the pair of soldiers standing outside. “Drop it off like we talked about.”

Rowan had known as soon as his man informed him they’d got Cairn Wilkins in custody that he was going to interrogate Wilkins and then dump whatever was left in a location where it would easily be found. He hoped that the bastard’s remains would turn up as another homicide scene shortly later, and he hoped that would give him the first block of evidence he needed to present to Gav. With any luck, Aelin Galathynius would find Cairn Wilkins’s battered self, kill the bastard, and leave him for the police and the press to find.

Which was exactly what happened.

“Lieutenant!” The police sergeant burst into Rowan’s office, interrupting a relatively slow, rather boring morning. “There’s another homicide scene.”

Rowan was out of the office in seconds, the sergeant falling into step beside him and quickly briefing him on the details. He nodded. “Thanks, Luca.” Luca was one of the few members of the Orynth PD investigative team that Rowan tolerated, mostly because he was passably smart, observant, and usually kept his mouth shut unless he was saying something important.

Luca nodded sharply. “You’re going to the scene?”

“No.”

“What?”

“No need.” Rowan stopped at the door to Captain Westfall’s office. “Keep me posted if there’s any significant evidence.”

“I…right. I will.” Luca turned on his heel and strode away. Another reason Rowan tolerated the kid–he didn’t ask stupid questions.

Before Rowan could decide whether he was going to knock or just barge into that incompetent twat Westfall’s office, the door flew open to reveal a steaming-mad Chaol Westfall. Rowan could practically see the smoke pouring from his ears. “Just the man I wanted to see,” Rowan drawled.

“Just the asshole I was about to summon,” Chaol growled. He stepped aside so Rowan could enter his office and slammed the door behind the two of them. “What the fuck, Whitethorn?” Rowan hadn’t even been on the investigation for two weeks before Chaol stopped calling him “Lieutenant.”

“What d’you mean?” Rowan couldn’t resist playing innocent; riling up Police Captain Chaol Westfall was just too fun. And too easy.

“I mean the fucking victim,” Chaol snapped. “What. The. Fuck.”

“If you’re accusing me of murder, Shale, you really should think twice about your precious little job.”

“That’s not my na–whatever. You know what I’m fucking talking about.”

“Maybe I don’t. Could you specify?” It took all of Rowan’s self-control not to snicker at the delightful shade of purple Chaol’s face was turning.

Chaol’s dark eyes narrowed in fury. “You tortured that victim before he was murdered,” he seethed. “Don’t give me any bullshit about how similar it is to the MO of the other homicides. It’s not. It’s your work, and I recognize your work when I see it.” He took a deep breath. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you, I’m the head of this investigation, and therefore you come to me for clearance before you go off and fucking torture someone?”

Rowan just rolled his eyes. “I’m an outside contract, Westhall, not one of your brainless lackeys. If I decide your methods aren’t working, then I use my own.” One corner of his lips curled up into a vicious smirk. “Besides, it worked. I got the info I needed. It’s not my fault Wilkins happened to end up getting finished off by some other criminal.”

Chaol muttered a string of truly creative curses under his breath. “Get out of my office, Whitethorn.”

Rowan threw Chaol a lazy, sarcastic salute and strolled out of the office, not bothering to close the door behind him. He went down the hall to the investigative team’s main gathering space and checked in on the evidence they’d gathered from Cairn Wilkins’s murder scene. It wasn’t much, just a few photos and samples of his clothes. He asked a few questions but mostly left everyone else alone, knowing that they could handle taking care of this crime scene. All he did was add Cairn Wilkins to the whiteboard, the latest addition in the column labeled Homicides–String?

His theory that all the deaths were connected was coming along nicely, as was his slowly-crystallizing theory that Galathynius was behind the crimes. After the setup with Cairn’s worthless corpse, he believed had one of his key pieces of that goddamn “concrete proof” he needed. Now, he just had to hope Gav would listen to him long enough to see his point.

Ren Allsbrook, alias Chaol Westfall, waited until Rowan’s angry footsteps had faded away before he picked up his cell phone and called his boss. He drummed his fingertips on the desk as he waited for her to pick up, muttering a curse under his breath when her phone went to voicemail and he had to try again.

The second time, she picked up just before it was about to go to voicemail again. “Unless you have something worth sharing, go back to stamping paperwork with your ass or whatever it is you useless cops do all day.”

“Pleased to hear your sweet voice too, Commander,” Ren drawled.

Aelin rolled her eyes so hard he could practically hear it. “Say something worthwhile or shut up.” The rapid clicking of her keyboard in the background indicated that she was probably working on something very important.

“Cairn Wilkins turned up dead.”

“I know.”

Ren blinked, his thoughts momentarily stalling. “He turned up dead on Galathynius property,” he continued. “Whitethorn got his dirty little hands on the bastard first, though.”

“I know,” Aelin repeated, her tone utterly dry.

“How the hell–”

“Wilkins’s worthless corpse turned up on my property.” She hadn’t stopped typing while they were talking. “Put two and two together, if you can, and deduce what happened. You’re a police captain, Westfall, aren’t you supposed to be good at figuring out this kind of shit?” Wry amusement laced her words.

“You did it.” Ren grumbled a string of curses under his breath.

“Not personally,” Aelin said offhandedly. “Not that I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I have bigger and better things to do than finish off a worthless piece of shit who would have bled out anyway.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Has anyone ever told you how goddamn impossible it is to have a productive conversation with you?”

She snickered. “Actually, yes. You’re one of the few who’s said it this bluntly, though, and that’s part of the reason why you have this little job, Captain.” She pronounced his title with dripping sarcasm, a not-so-subtle reminder of what he was supposed to be doing. “Thanks for confirming that PD knows about Cairn’s, ah, untimely demise.”

He could have sworn she was laughing. “So it wasn’t you?”

“I’m assuming it was one of the trigger-happy guards that are on night patrol down at the warehouse.” She shrugged. “Like I said, he would’ve bled out anyway. A swift death was as much mercy as he was ever going to get.”

As Ren hung up the phone and turned back to the endless stack of paperwork that came with posing as a police captain, he sighed yet again. He had to admit it: Aelin was right. Hearing that she herself hadn’t killed Wilkins, though…perhaps he could find something about the scene to distract Whitethorn from running off to tattle to his commanding officer.

He pulled up the images of the crime scene, zooming in on the close-ups of Wilkins’s body. Knowing from experience that Aelin’s preferred method of finishing someone off was a slit throat, Ren examined the throat, and…well, that was interesting, indeed. He checked again, making sure he was actually seeing what was real and not deluding himself, saved copies of the close-up images, printed off a set of the photos, and strolled off to the investigative team’s meeting room.

“Fucking hell,” Rowan seethed. “You better not have doctored the photos, Westfall, or I swear I’ll kill you myself.”

“I’m a law-abiding citizen and a member of the police force,” Ren drawled, immensely satisfied by the way Rowan caught onto the implied insult and turned a surprising shade of crimson. “All I did was properly examine the images.”

“I’m going to get confirmation from the morgue,” Rowan snapped. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the meeting room. Ren snickered. It was almost too easy.

And when Rowan returned from the morgue with confirmation of what Ren had discovered in the photos, the look on his face was worth every second of verbal abuse Ren had had to deal with since that man joined the investigation.

Cairn Wilkins had indeed been killed on Galathynius property, but his fatal wound was not the severed throat that had been the common thread linking all the other homicides and, coincidentally, was the notorious criminal Galathynius’s preferred method of disposing of victims. Rather, Wilkins had been shot through the throat. The state of his brutalized body was consistent with the string of tortured victims that Rowan firmly believed were Galathynius crimes, but the cause of death simply did not match.

“Hope that isn’t too drastic of a factor,” Ren said calmly as he passed Rowan on his way out of the room.

“Fuck off,” Rowan grunted. His jaw muscles pulsed rapidly; hell, his entire body was coiled with tension like a spring stretched to its maximum limit.

Although he did enjoy testing the limits, Ren knew better than to push Rowan Whitethorn over the edge of that deadly anger. So he just offered a bland, smarmy smile and strolled back to his office, wondering what the hell would happen when Whitethorn inevitably crossed paths with Aelin.

A week before the Galathynius Inc. annual gala, Aelin paced across her living room, wearing a path into the expensive carpet despite not having any shoes on. Two pencils were haphazardly shoved into her messy updo, and she was about three seconds from screaming every swear word in every language she knew.

“Are you fucking serious?” she half-yelled, ready to throw her phone at the nearest wall. “There’s only a week left!”

“Lin, calm the fuck down.” Ansel ordered in her I’m-your-lawyer voice. “I visited the ballroom today to confirm that they weren’t bullshitting us. The whole goddamn building is flooded.”

“Fuck,” Aelin groaned. “What the hell else could we possibly book?”

“Elide’s already been on the phone with every other place on our list. So has the event planner, and everyone gave the same response. Booked out.” Ansel muttered a rather creative curse. “I’m looking into the last couple of options, but we might have to–”

“Wait.” Aelin’s gaze honed in on a framed photo of her parents that hung on her wall. The snapshot had captured Rhoe and Evalin in the middle of the gala, formal wear and everything, laughing at a private joke they were sharing. Brushing off the pang of grief she always felt when she saw reminders of her parents, Aelin focused on the background of the image. “They’re at the office,” she whispered, mostly to herself.”

“The hell?” Ansel’s question jerked Aelin back to reality.

“Don’t bother calling any other venues,” Aelin responded. “We can hold the gala at the office.”

“Um…”

“Thirtieth floor. It’s listed as a ‘multipurpose space’ but mostly used for random conference meetings or other big speeches. My parents held the gala there a few times when every other venue in Orynth was booked out.”

Ansel sucked in a soft gasp. “That’s right. How’d we forget about that?” She started typing rapidly in the background. “Call Ells. I’ll call you back if I need anything.” She hung up.

Aelin released a deep breath and called her right-hand woman. “Hey Ells, I’ve got us a solution.”

“Please fucking share,” Elide grumbled. Aelin heard the telltale hiss of a can opening and knew her dear friend was probably cracking open a cider. “Every single fucking venue in this city is booked.”

“We’re holding the gala at the office. Thirtieth floor.”

Elide swore quietly. “Why the fuck didn’t I remember that? Rhoe and Evalin held events there all the time.”

“Slipped all of our minds.” Aelin pushed back the memories of her teenage self at those events. “I only remembered when I walked past the photos on my wall.”

“Right, your whole decor is probably just photos of you and your family at that office,” Elide teased.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “If I hadn’t been dragged along to every goddamn event Gal Inc hosted, we’d never have met, you know.”

“I know.” Elide tapped on her iPad in the background. “Okay, I’m gonna talk to the caterers. Thanks, Ae.”

“Call me if you need anything.” Aelin hung up and poured herself a generous glass of wine. Maybe she shouldn’t be relying on the alcohol after a long, exhausting day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She did, however, limit herself to just one drink.

She had to be sharp for her meeting that night, after all.

“N-no, I swear, I'm telling the truth!” The man’s voice cracked.

Lounging in a comfortable chair with her booted feet propped casually on the desk, Aelin regarded the man sitting across from her with great disdain. Not speaking, she just lifted her hand and crooked two fingers, calling one of her men over. The huge, muscled, masked man chuckled darkly and flicked out a dagger with a soft zing.

The man opposite Aelin shook with terror. “Pl-please, Boss.”

Aelin arched an eyebrow. “Begging so soon, Tern?”

“I don’t know anything,” he whimpered, cringing away from the knife.

Aelin lifted her chin. Her guard grabbed the sniveling man, hauled him up by the collar, and let him squirm pointlessly in the air for a moment before setting him back into his chair and tying his arms and legs so he couldn’t wriggle away. He looked to Aelin for confirmation. “Boss?”

She nodded.

“I–I haven’t–aaahhhh!” Tern screamed, thrashing futilely, as Aelin’s guard ripped open his shirt and sliced his dagger slowly down Tern’s right pectoral.

Aelin clicked her tongue. “Pity to mess up such fine tattoo work. Vaughan is truly an artist.” She steepled her fingers, watching her guard work on Tern until the bloodied, bruised man relented.

“S-st-stop,” he wheezed, spitting blood and a tooth onto the concrete floor. “I’ll tell you.”

Standing, Aelin strolled around her desk and leaned on the front edge. “I knew you’d come around eventually.” She tipped her head, and her guard stepped back. “Speak, Tern.”

He trembled. “It was Finn.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“H-he did it himself, had me and a few other guys sneak onto the ship and kill or subdue the crew, then took over command. He was bragging about it for weeks.” Tern inhaled shakily. “Said he knew a woman couldn’t properly arm her shipments.”

“Did he, now?” Aelin’s voice was lethally soft, dangerously controlled.

“Yes.”

“Fascinating.” She smiled softly. “It was very kind of you to tell me, Tern. Thank you.”

He blinked in shock. “I–you–you’re welcome, Boss.”

She patted his bleeding face with a gloved hand. “I hope you have a competent doctor; you’re going to need it.” With that, she sauntered away.

Tern wheezed out a shaky sigh, but he couldn’t control the part of him that was a giant raging misogynist. “Bitch,” he whispered, thinking Aelin couldn’t hear.

Bang.

“I thought you might say that,” Aelin mused, knocking the empty chamber out of her gun and holstering the weapon. She tipped her head towards Tern’s corpse. “Dump it.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” her guard grunted.

She left her gun in the warehouse’s weapons room, locked up, let herself out, and headed back to her shitty apartment down by the shipping district. It took her almost an hour to get there, thanks to the traffic accident blocking half of the freeway, and she was bone-tired by the time she finally slipped through the window and bolted it closed. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she stopped to glance in the mirror to check on her suit.

Gods fucking damn it. There was blood staining the material again.

After a quick shower, Aelin dumped her suit in the bathtub and filled the tub with water, laundry detergent, and some bleach. She left it to soak overnight and got herself into bed, falling into deep, exhausted sleep as soon as her head hit the pillows. In the morning, she’d deal with the damn suit.

In the morning, the damn suit was mostly clean, so she drained the tub, rinsed her suit, and wrung it out–a task that took far too long and made her swear violently. She’d have to call Nehemia and see if she could figure out a way to make the fabric less of a pain in the ass to clean.

As she folded up the damp suit, Aelin’s fingers passed over what felt like a frayed spot. She frowned and held the suit up to the overhead light, searching for whatever she’d just felt.

Fuck.

It wasn’t a frayed spot.

It was a tear. A tiny one, but still a tear. The suit’s material was supposed to be incredibly difficult to damage, which meant…

Fuck.

She could only hope that the torn scrap had come into Aedion’s hands, because if the police had it–or worse, if the TSF had it–that fabric would be the first piece of hard evidence linking Boss Aelin Galathynius to her crimes.

“I shouldn’t be this jittery,” Aelin muttered, clasping her hands tightly together to stop herself from twisting her rings, the one and only nervous habit she had. “It’s just the gala, it happens every year.”

“Lady.” Elide swept gracefully across the room, two tall glasses of champagne in her hands. “If you don’t stop quivering, I will kick your ass. Have a drink. Charm your guests. Stop fucking worrying.”

Gratefully, Aelin accepted one of the champagne glasses and took a long, long sip. “What would I do without you, Ells?”

“Probably lose your damn wits,” Elide snarked, winking at her dear friend. “Now, please go over and chat with Cortland before I strangle you for ignoring our company’s newest acquired partner.”

“As you wish.” Aelin drained the champagne, placed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, and walked over to the Cortlands, who were making small talk with some of Aelin’s employees.

Mark and Sam Cortland, the father and son duo who ran Cortland Advertising, had officially joined Galathynius Inc. just a few weeks ago after months and months of negotiations. The advertising company’s stock and profits had been tanking ever since a tabloid article supposedly exposed Sam’s affair with one of the interns. Aelin’s covert research had confirmed that the tabloid rumors were true, and she’d approached the company with an acquisition offer after letting them flounder in their sudden decline for a few months. Initially, of course, the Cortlands had been completely opposed to the idea of letting another company, especially one as potentially notorious as Galathynius, Inc., acquire them. But after Aelin had sat through a few weeks of pointless arguing, she simply dropped three printed photos onto the conference table and watched Sam squirm.

That had been a very productive meeting.

“Ms. Galathynius.” Noticing her approach, the elder Cortland welcomed her into the small knot of people, dipping his head at her. “Spectacular event, as always.”

“Thank you.” She allowed a small, professional smile. Mark Cortland was a complete gentleman, refined and well-mannered, and she actually enjoyed working with him. Sam Cortland, though, was an entirely different story.

“You look exquisite, Ms. Galathynius.” Right on cue, Sam had a compliment. He even went so far as to lift her hand towards his face for a kiss…until he caught sight of her icy expression and dropped her hand faster than a hot coal.

“Sycophancy doesn’t become you, young Cortland,” Aelin said softly, just loud enough for the small circle of people to hear. A few of the others muffled snickers. “But thank you for confirming what my friends have already expressed.” Sam’s face flushed a gratifying shade of crimson, and he made a hasty excuse and strode for the bar.

“Keep an eye on him,” the elder Cortland murmured to the man nearest him. “My apologies for my son’s behavior, Ms. Galathynius. He hasn’t yet adjusted to being someone’s subordinate.”

“He will, in time,” Aelin reassured him. “If it helps, he can report to you, rather than to one of my employees. Perhaps he’ll still feel autonomous that way.”

Cortland nodded. “We’ll see.”

Aelin chatted with him and his colleagues for a few more minutes, her friendliness setting all of them at ease. She’d found that to be her best asset–showing a friendly face at public events. It helped reassure everyone, especially the company’s new additions, that she might be the intimidating CEO in the office, but she was perfectly approachable and had a sense of humor. She left Cortland and his colleagues with a promise of lunch soon and headed across the ballroom, picking up another glass of champagne as she passed a waiter. She flashed a thank-you smile at the young waiter, who couldn’t possibly be more than eighteen or nineteen, and chuckled to herself as his face turned pink. As she strolled towards Nox, she caught sight of a very familiar blonde head and reversed her steps.

“Uncle,” she beamed, genuine joy on her face as she came up to Gavriel’s side.

Gav beamed right back and hugged her briefly but affectionately. “You look just like your mother, Ae,” he murmured. “How are you?”

Aelin had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. “I’m just fine, Gav, so stop worrying.” Her lips curled into a genuine smile. “I’m a little sleep-deprived, but that tends to happen when you’re working on a major project.”

“Please tell me you’ve been eating something that isn’t coffee,” Gav teased.

She smacked his arm. “You’re impossible. Yes, of course I am. Elide bullies me into having real groceries in my fridge, you know.”

“As she should.” He dodged her next swat, years of serving in Terrasen’s special forces having honed his reflexes. “Before you ask, Aedion’s working.”

“Of course he is,” Aelin sighed. “I swear he works more than both of us combined.”

“That he does,” her uncle agreed. “No matter how many times I try to convince him to leave the lab every once in a while, it’s like he doesn’t even hear me.”

“We’re having lunch this week, so I can bully him then if you want.”

“Please do.” Gav’s eyes crinkled with humor. “Tell that boy his father wants to see him, too.”

Aelin laughed. “I might just have to let you take my place at lunch so you can bully him.”

“I wouldn’t say no.” Gav squeezed Aelin’s free hand. “Oh, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Another one of your rookies?” she teased. “Uncle, you bring one of the new guys every year, and every year I tell you to stop meddling in my love life.”

He smirked, the expression pure Ashryver. “Hard to meddle in something that doesn’t exist, Aelin dear.” Before she could protest, he linked her arm through his and raised his other hand, crooking his fingers in a beckoning gesture.

The most gorgeous man Aelin had ever seen strode up to Gav, lifting the chiseled line of his jaw in an effortless salute. She barely had any time to sweep an appreciative glance over his height, his muscles, his piercing green eyes, and the exquisitely tailored suit that accentuated his physique when he spoke, addressing her uncle.“Sir?”

Just like that, ice shot through her heated blood. That voice. She knew the sound of that voice. She’d heard it over the Orynth PD radio. This man was the special forces officer on the investigation.

Hmm. She could have…fun tonight after all.

Rowan had been dreading the Galathynius, Inc. charity gala since the moment Gav informed him that he would be the second special forces guest that year. Apparently the TSF and Gal Inc. had some form of partnership that allowed Gav two invitations to the gala. Every year, Gav picked one of the newer soldiers to show off, probably so he could set the poor guy loose on the wealthy, lustful businesspeople who attended that kind of event. The idea of being smirked at and flirted with for hours on end made Rowan’s skin crawl. Not only would he have to wear a formal suit–which meant absolutely no weapons–but he had to stand around and smile and fucking chitchat with a roomful of complete strangers. The open bar was a blessing. Honestly, he’d been incredibly relieved when Gav motioned him over, drawing him away from an incredibly uncomfortable conversation (if one could call it that) with a platinum-blonde woman who wasn’t even trying to conceal that she wanted to get in his pants.

“Sir?” He stifled the urge to perform a full salute and simply lifted his chin at his commander.

The expression on Gav’s face was nothing short of meddlesome. “Rowan, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” His grin widened. “This is my niece, Aelin Galathynius. Aelin, dear, this is Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn, Terrasen Special Forces.”

Holy fucking shit.

Every single coherent thought vanished from Rowan’s brain as he stared into the completely stunning face of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the woman he was convinced was behind one of the biggest criminal outfits he’d ever encountered. He couldn’t stop his gaze from trailing down the elegant lines of her body, appreciating how the deep crimson silk of her formal dress molded to her subtle curves, the way one long, tanned leg peeked through a slit that was nearly indecent, the smoky makeup enhancing the brilliant turquoise of her eyes, and the lipstick that matched her dress perfectly. Lipstick Rowan suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to kiss off of her full, plush lips.

Aelin arched one perfectly groomed blonde brow. “Does he talk?” she asked Gav–her uncle!–in a throaty, musical voice that had Rowan’s cock twitching in his pants.

Gav chuckled. Actually chuckled. “Occasionally.” Say something, idiot, his eyes practically screamed.

Rowan cleared his throat. “P–pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galathynius.”

“Oh, the pleasure is entirely mine,” she purred, so much charisma thrumming in her tone that Rowan had to think up images of sad puppies to control his body’s reaction. Untucking her arm from Gav’s, she slid it into Rowan’s and shook his hand firmly, her skin soft against his rough calluses. “Where are you from, Lieutenant Whitethorn?”

“Wendlyn,” he replied. “Trained at Doranelle before accepting the TSF offer.”

“Impressive,” she hummed, and damn him straight to hell, the innuendo in her voice would be the death of him. “I’ve heard that the Doranellians are some of the best-trained soldiers in the world.”

“You’ve heard correctly.” Gav grinned at his niece. “If you’ll excuse me, dear, I believe your chief of sales has been trying to subtly wave me over for the last ten minutes and is about to cause a scene if I don’t acknowledge her.”

Aelin laughed softly, the musical sound sending sparks shooting down Rowan’s nerves. “Business calls,” she quipped, placing a kiss on Gav’s cheek. “I’m sure I can entertain Lieutenant Whitethorn while you have a boring conversation with someone else, Uncle.” Gav smirked and left, walking over to a woman who must have been one of Aelin’s colleagues, leaving Rowan and Aelin alone. Together.

“Well.” Aelin turned the full force of her bone-melting smile onto Rowan, and gods burn him, he was helpless against such power. “Can I get you a drink, Lieutenant?”

“Please,” he grumbled before he could stop himself. “Gods, I’m sorry, I’ve just never been that comfortable at…this kind of event.”

She flashed him a conspiratorial smirk. “Too much bullshit?”

If he’d been attracted to her initially, he was completely head over heels for her now. “You get it.”

“Of course I do,” she snorted. “I’ve been coming to business events since I was fourteen–perils of having ambitious parents, I guess. Well, I certainly learned how to survive a gala: have an open bar.” She led him over to the bar and waved at the bartender. “A little boost, Owens?”

“Sure thing, ma’am.” The bartender grabbed two shot glasses, poured a measure of whiskey into each glass, and slid them across the bartop.

Rowan picked up his glass and held it up to the lamp, admiring the rich golden-amber color of the whiskey. It looked like a damn expensive brand, and with that look, it was probably worth every dollar of its price. He tasted the liquor and his eyes went wide. “Damn.”

Aelin’s brows raised. “Was that a good or bad damn, Whitethorn?” Behind the bar, the bartender let out a wheeze, covering it rapidly with a soft cough.

Rowan rolled the whiskey around on his tongue. “Good. Definitely good.” He clinked his shot glass against hers and downed the fine liquor in one go, almost regretful to take it like a shot. Whiskey this good deserved to be sipped. To his shock, Aelin drained her shot in one go as well, barely even blinking as the liquid burned down her throat.

The whiskey warmed Rowan’s blood enough for him to crack a smirk. “If we were anywhere else, Ms. Galathynius, I’d have to buy you another drink.”

The grin she gave him in return was nothing short of sensual. “If we were anywhere else, Lieutenant Whitethorn, I just might say yes.”

Fucking hell. He was in such deep shit.

Aelin talked with Rowan for another few minutes at the bar, covertly gesturing at Nox to keep the whiskey coming, and eventually let him go off to find Gav after several more shots. She couldn’t muffle her satisfied little smirk as she watched the supposedly unflappable lieutenant stumble once and quickly catch his balance. Clearly, her little scheme to get the fearsome lieutenant a little tipsy had worked.

“You are an evil, brilliant woman,” Nox muttered as he collected the shot glasses.

She flashed him a deadly smirk. “And you controlled yourself surprisingly well when I said Whitethorn’s name. I was expecting at least one broken glass.”

He snorted. “If I was anyone else, I’d have dropped the fuckin’ bottle. Dunno whether to be terrified or excited that he’s here, though.”

“A little bit of both.” Aelin drained the small glass of water Nox had given her and stood up. “Thanks for the drinks, Owens.”

“Anytime, ma’am.” He winked at her. “Anytime.”

In her periphery, Aelin noticed Ansel covertly gesturing at her, so she headed over to meet the redheaded attorney, who corralled her into a small knot of men talking in low voices. One of those men was none other than Archer Finn, CEO of Finn’s Imports, LLC. His little shipping company had recently developed an…interest in Aelin’s shipments–or, as the rest of the world called it, piracy.

“Ms. Galathynius.” Ever debonair, Archer stepped to her side. “May I have a dance?”

“Of course,” she replied, accepting his hand and accompanying him onto the dance floor. He was a competent partner, if not particularly skilled at masking his surprise when she dropped the news. “How has the business been lately? I’ve heard you unexpectedly lost a few vessels.”

His short, tight inhale confirmed what she suspected, but his voice was even. “You know how unpredictable the weather at sea can be, I’m sure.”

“Indeed.” She clicked her tongue softly, using the slow spin he guided her through to slightly tilt her upper body, drawing Archer’s very male attention to the deep V-neck of her formal dress. “I’ve had shipments damaged by storms as well. Truly unfortunate.”

“Quite.” His eyes narrowed into a cunning, if lascivious, expression. “I wonder, though, if it would benefit a leader such as yourself to contract more than one importer, lest you put all your eggs in one basket.”

It was almost too easy. “What a novel suggestion,” she purred, lacing her tone with just enough sarcasm that Archer wouldn’t realize she was mocking him. “You’re offering me a partnership.” It wasn’t a question.

“I believe Finn Imports and Galathynius, Inc. would mutually benefit from an alliance.” Clever of him to word it like that. Archer Finn shipped drugs and arms to a sizable number of Erilea’s biggest crime rings–or he had, until a series of unfortunate, unsolved murders destabilized most of the outfits.

Aelin hummed softly, pretending to mull over the proposal, and swayed with the dance just enough for her toned leg to flash through the slit in her skirt. “Perhaps we could.”

Archer swept a brazen gaze down her body. Asshole. “Let’s set a meeting, then. Monday? I have a handful of openings in my schedule.”

Aelin refused to shudder beneath the badly disguised lust in his lecherous gaze. “I believe we could expedite the process of our alliance if you present your terms now, rather than later. My meeting schedule tends to be booked out weeks in advance.”

“Spoken like a true savant.” The fool couldn’t even recognize a veiled insult. “I’m offering to import fifty percent of your Kingsflame deliveries and thirty to fifty percent of your Gal Tech deliveries, and of course, I know how to be discreet.” He smirked. “As for compensation, I believe fifteen percent would be reasonable.”

“Fifteen percent of net profit, or fifteen percent of gross profit?”

He couldn’t mask the avarice that was his guiding characteristic. “Gross profit. However, I’m also willing to distribute a portion of the deliveries at no additional cost.”

“Hmm.” Aelin pretended to consider his outright robbery of an offer. “Ten percent.”

“Ten percent profit?”

“No. Ten percent of my Kingsflame and tech deliveries.” She squeezed his hand tightly before he could protest, shutting him up. “Ten percent…to begin. If you can demonstrate your competence after an initial trial period, we can negotiate increasing that amount.”

He nodded slowly, seeing her logic. “How long would the trial period last?”

“Four to eight weeks, depending on how frequent my shipments would be.”

“And are you willing to accept a fifteen percent compensation?”

She smothered her snicker. He really was predictable. “I believe it would be wise to set the compensation rate in proportion to the percentage of goods you import. For example, if you import ten percent of the Kingsflame shipments, you receive five percent of gross profit. If you import twenty percent, you receive ten percent. And so on.”

Archer ran the calculations in his head, clearly entranced by the prospect of the immense wealth a deal with Galathynius could bring him. “Agreed. On all terms.”

“Excellent.” She flashed him a professional smile. “My attorney will set up a meeting with you so we can sign the necessary paperwork.” The song drew to a close, and she stepped back from Archer, dipping her head in the customary gesture of appreciation for a dance. “I look forward to our partnership, I truly do.” She couldn’t control the wicked, steel-edged smirk that edged across her crimson lips.

Aelin turned away from Archer, her mind already clicking pieces into place for the “partnership” with Finn Imports. She fully intended to sneak back to the bar and have a drink of water, if not something stronger, but before she could step away from the dancefloor, a broad, callused hand landed on her waist, and she found herself in the arms of Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn.

“May I?” he murmured, his voice thick and a little slurred, eyes bright with the effects of the whiskey he’d drunk earlier.

“Of course.” She rested one hand on his shoulder–even in six-inch heels, she had to raise her hand to his shoulder–and placed her other hand in his. “I’ll try not to step on you, Lieutenant, since my shoes might cause some damage.” The music started again, and he led her into a dance with more grace than a probably drunk person should have.

His low, rumbling laugh was something straight out of her nighttime fantasies. “Those heels prob’ly hurt you worse than anyone else, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Beauty is pain, though.”

“Bullshit.” His whiskey-bright eyes, the exact color of evergreen forests, lingered on her face, dipping to her crimson-painted lips. “’Cuz you’re beautiful, not painful.” He blinked. “Wait. That made no–what did I say?”

Aelin snorted a laugh. “I believe you called me beautiful.”

“That I did.” Rowan’s guiding hand on her waist pressed her closer, until they were sharing breath. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Ms. Galathynius.”

“Please, call me Aelin.”

“Aelin,” he repeated, and gods, the way her blood sparked at the sound of her name on his tongue. “Call me Rowan, then.”

“Rowan,” she murmured, lowering her lashes in a demure manner she knew drove men wild.

“Stunning,” he whispered, his gaze meandering down her form and back up to her lips.

She smiled, more appreciative of his compliment than any other platitude she’d been offered that night, because his was genuine. It probably came from liquid courage, but it was genuine nonetheless. “You clean up rather well for a soldier, yourself.”

He grinned, a brilliant flash of teeth that lit his face with youthful joy. “Soldiers have to dress up sometimes, too, Miss CEO.” As the music built higher, he spun her outward, keeping a delicate hold of her fingers.

Aelin took that opportunity to slip out of his grasp and exit the dancefloor.

She made it all the way into the quiet hallway that led to the bathrooms before Rowan caught up with her, the wintry scent of his cologne tickling her nostrils. “That was surprisingly fast for a drunk man,” she teased.

“I’m not drunk, Aelin,” Rowan mumbled, his voice a deep, velvet caress. Those stupidly huge hands of his wrapped around her waist again, backing her gently against the wall.

“Oh?” She raised one eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you see this, Rowan darling?” With that, she sidestepped him, ducking into a short, shadowed side hallway. He stayed right behind her, catching her again as soon as they were both in the quiet, darkened space. Tilting up her head, she caught his eyes in the shadows and smirked. For a moment, their breaths were the only sound in the space, the only thing passing through the tension that crackled between the two of them.

Then Rowan sank one hand into her hair and crashed his lips into hers.

Aelin melted her body against the hard, muscular planes of his, caught his jacket’s lapels, and dragged him closer as she let her lips fall open, deepening the kiss. Fuck, the man kissed like a god, his lips warm and soft, his tongue tangled with hers in the most delicious way. Desperate for a breath, she broke away, tipping her head back to draw in a lungful of fresh air, and he took that opportunity to press his deviously talented lips against her throat, sending a shudder racing down her spine. Stifling the moan that threatened to escape, she threaded her fingers into his cropped hair and tugged him back to her lips, kissing him deeply, hungrily.

He broke the kiss after an eternal moment, his chest heaving as he practically gasped for breath, clearly just as wrecked by the kiss as she was. Despite the alcohol she could taste on his lips, he didn’t falter once as he whispered her name, his voice hoarse with barely-concealed desire and a hundred other emotions she wouldn’t name. “Aelin.”

That desire–the desire of the man who was trying to put her behind bars–was like a bucket of icy water dousing her simmering lust. She slipped his grasp and darted away, ducking into a secret hallway that she knew was nearby. She waited there for a few minutes, hands pressed over her mouth to keep Rowan from hearing her shuddering breaths, until his footsteps faded away into the distance. Then, she steeled herself, straightened her spine, and pressed her thumb into the hidden keypad that was next to her, opening a concealed door with a muted click and heading down the hidden hallway to her private exit.

Rowan didn’t remember anything after his and Aelin’s kiss, the kiss that shook him to his very core. He’d been too stunned to chase her when she disappeared, and in the space of the twenty seconds it took him to recover his breath and try to follow her, she was gone.

He didn’t remember walking back to the gala, his head spinning with alcohol and Aelin’s kiss. He didn’t remember heading straight for the bar and downing another few drinks. He barely remembered making his excuses to Gav and getting the hell out of the gala before he could do anything stupid like tear apart every floor of the building looking for Aelin.

In a hazy, alcohol-blurred fog, Rowan made it back to the barracks, stripped out of his suit, and collapsed into his bed. Sleep claimed him in minutes.

When he woke up, bright sunlight hit him full in the face, and he buried his face back into his pillow, groaning. Fuck, it was too much. Too bright. His head was heavier than a wheelbarrow full of bricks and foggier than a San Francisco morning.

Someone snickered from his left. “Long night, Whitethorn?”

“Fuck you,” Rowan grunted into his pillow, flipping his middle finger at the jackass who dared to comment on his rough appearance.

Lorcan mercilessly ripped the pillow out of Rowan’s arms and snickered some more. “Get your ass out of bed, Lieutenant Hungover. There’s water and ibuprofen on your nightstand. Commander won’t wait forever to see you, y’know.”

“Bastard,” Rowan grumbled. He rolled over, grabbed the water and medicine, downed both, and forced himself to sit up and reach for the fatigues that he always kept in a neatly folded stack on the shelf of his nightstand. As he pulled on his shirt, a coherent thought broke through the foggy mess of his brain. “Salvaterre?”

“What.”

“Why does Gav want me?”

Lorcan shrugged. “Fuck if I know. He sent me to get your drunk ass out of bed right after morning briefing, said he needs you in his office as soon as you can stand up.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a jackass?” Rowan rolled his eyes.

“You do, every day.” Lorcan smirked and threw Rowan a mocking salute.

“Oh, fuck off!” Rowan yelled as Lorcan left the room. Muttering under his breath, he quickly finished getting dressed, strapped his Kevlar vest on, and chugged another glass of water before leaving his room and going upstairs to face the commander.

Gav was about as welcoming as a wall of bricks. “Whitethorn,” he said flatly when Rowan walked into his office. “Nice to see you up and about so early.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Rowan saluted sharply and said nothing, his lips flattened into a firm line.

His commander returned the flat stare. “Do you know what day it is, Whitethorn?”

“Saturday, sir.”

Gav scoffed. “Today is Saturday, February 28, Whitethorn. You know what that means.”

Fuck. It was the last day of February. And Rowan was not even a single inch closer to the proof he’d promised his commander he’d be able to gather. Not after the--gods fucking dammit.

That kiss…Aelin had thrown his previously set theories into scrambled chaos.

“Dismissed.” Gav turned his attention back to the paperwork piled atop his desk. “Clock’s ticking, Whitethorn.”

~~~

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#my writing #until proven guilty #criminal/investigator au #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin the crime boss au #crime boss aelin x investigator rowan #tw: violence

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