#'caught in 4k' i say as these gifs look like they were put through a BLENDER

[strayklds]

surprise ferret attack caught in 4k || @ 슈슈

[number1mingyustan]

Apartment 222 ☾

neighbor!jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, fingering (f.), protected sex (missionary), explict smut, y/n is such a sweetheart bless her soul

Summary: Rule number 1: don't show up drunk at your hot neighbor's apartment if it’s 2am

Word Count: 4k

_______________________________________________

“What the fuck?” You sigh out of frustration. It’s 2am and you are very drunk trying to get into the front door of your apartment. The uber dropped you off and now that you’re home safely, you can’t actually get into your living space.

You’re fiddling with the doorknob, twisting and turning and pushing the door in. But for some reason, your key doesn’t fit in the door.

Your feet hurt from the heels you’ve been wearing all night and it’s making you more frustrated.

Why the hell is your key broken?

Suddenly, the front door opens, completely startling you. A very tired man is on the other side, wiping his eyes and clearly pissed off. Your drunk brain has still not processed what's happening, but all you know is that he's really hot and standing in your apartment?

Are you dreaming right now?

“What the fuck?” he groans.

Oh.

This is not your apartment. This is not your apartment at all and you are such an idiot. You look up at the number on the door, 222-A. Oh fuck, you live in 222-B.

You gasp. “Holy shit I’m so sorry! I thought this was my apartment and I was trying to figure out why my key wouldn’t fit and, I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He’s silent, staring at you dumbfounded and somewhat in disbelief. He’s looking you up and down, based on your attire it’s obvious you’ve been out clubbing. He can tell you’re drunk, but sincere.

He sighs. “Yeah whatever.”

There’s a moment of silence. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed. “Do you know where you live?”

“Oh! Yes I do, I’m in 222-B,” you say much louder than intended. “That makes us neighbors!”

He blinks at you. “Uh huh.”

There’s another moment of silence. He’s waiting for you to leave him alone so he can go back to bed but you’re too drunk to pick up on social cues. He is so beyond uninterested and the alcohol is completely clouding your judgement.

Of course you didn’t know this, but despite his cold demeanor he was actually kind of intrigued by you. Granted, you were a very drunk girl who woke him up at 2am. However, you were a very pretty drunk girl that woke him up at 2am. Not to mention the little dress you were wearing looked absolutely stunning on you.

It was simple, yet sexy. All black long sleeve off the shoulder that hugged your body perfectly. He caught himself staring a bit too much through tired eyes.

Your makeup was faded from the night you had, but the smudged eyeliner actually seemed to suit you more. You had a very effortless beauty to you, he liked that.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding again,” you apologize once more before stumbling to your actual apartment.

His door is already closed by the time you unlock yours. You feel so bad for waking him up this late. You’ve only been living here a month and you’ve already pissed off your insanely hot neighbor.

__

It’s been two weeks since your drunk encounter with the hot neighbor and you think you’ve found the perfect way to make it up to him.

You don’t seem to be the only person confusing your apartments because when you went to retrieve your mail this morning, there was an envelope in your mailbox addressed to a Yoon Jeonghan at 222-A.

You take your mail and his before heading up the elevator to your apartment. You make a pit stop, knocking on the door of 222-A.

You wait patiently and sure enough your hot neighbor opens the door again. He’s wearing a plain white tee and some sweatpants and half his hair is styled up into a ponytail.

“It’s you again,” he leans against the door frame.

“Hi, yeah. Your mail was in my mailbox and I figured I’d bring it to you since it got mixed up,” you tell him.

“You could’ve just put it into my mailbox, but thanks,” he replies, taking the envelope out your hand.

“I know, I just felt bad about the other night and I guess I felt a little inclined to do some sort of kind gesture,” you say.

“You’re new here right?” he asks suddenly.

You nod. “Yeah, I just moved in about a month ago. I’m still not fully unpacked yet.”

“Figures,” he mumbles.

He clears his throat. “Thanks for the mail and uh, I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before the door is closed. You’re standing at his door for another 30 seconds dumbfounded and in disbelief.

At least he said thank you?

__

“Dude your neighbor’s hot,” Joshua comments as he exists the elevator, making his way toward his friend's apartment.

Jeonghan follows his friend's eyes, seeing you struggling to fit a large box through your door. He’s in no place to disagree with his friend, anyone could see that you were beautiful.

“Yeah, kind of annoying though,” he shrugs, pulling out his keys.

“Have you talked to her?” Joshua asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know her name or anything, she just moved in like a month ago. She woke me up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago because she thought she lived in my apartment.”

Joshua smiles. "That's adorable."

"No it's not," Jeonghan frowns. "I was trying to sleep and she was pissing me off."

"Yeah but she's hot," Joshua comments. "Besides, you haven't been with anyone in forever, maybe this is your chance."

Jeonghan's jaw clenches. "Don't even think about it. Joshua I swear if you–"

Joshua smirks before disappearing from his friend's side and heading toward you.

“Do you need help?”

You pause what you’re doing, looking up at the handsome stranger in front of you. You can see the hot neighbor, Jeonghan, standing behind him.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you smile. “The last of my furniture finally arrived but they couldn’t have someone come and install it for me.”

The handsome stranger nods before helping you move the large box into your apartment.

“I’m Joshua by the way,” he introduces himself.

“Y/n,” you say, giving the box one last push that wedges it between the door frame. “Do you live here too?”

“Practically,” he smiles. “Jeonghan is my best friend so I spend a lot of time here. So I hope to be seeing more of you around here.”

You smile back at him. “Maybe you will.”

_________________

You’ve successfully moved the box into your apartment with Joshua’s help. You talked a bit while he helped you, getting to know him. He's a total sweetheart.

“Do you need help setting it up too?” he asks.

“Uh, only if you want to.” you shrug. “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” the boy smiles.

He peaks his head out the open doorway. “Jeonghan! Come here!”

The other boy walks over and stands in front of the open doorway. “What?”

“Help us out will you?” Joshua smirks. “It’s not very neighborly for you to lurk in the hallway while Y/n struggles with her bed.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Didn’t think she’d be struggling if she had you helping her.”

Jeonghan pushes past his friend wordlessly and begins opening the oversized box. Joshua lets out a scoff before closing your front door and joining in on the help.

__________________

Joshua and Jeonghan have been bickering for the last two hours about how to set up your bed frame. They've managed to build somewhat of a structure, but it's hard to say whether or not they've done so correctly.Unfortunately, the instructions were in German.

"Google translate said it means left," Joshua instructs.

"I don't give a fuck about what google translate says," Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

Jeonghan continues against Joshua's will, and moments later the entire structure falls to the ground with a thud.

"See!" Joshua scoffs.

"Screw this," Jeonghan rises to his feet. "It's getting late, I'm going back to my apartment. Joshua, you can go home."

"Jeonghan, you can't just break someone's bed and then storm out," Joshua points out.

Both of the boys shift their gaze to you slowly. You're standing in the middle of your bedroom awkwardly. "Uh.."

Jeonghan rolls his eyes again before reaching into his wallet in his back pocket. He pulls out a bill and extends his hand toward you. "Here's 50 bucks,"

Joshua is quick to swat his friend's hand away. "You asshole!

"I didn't do anything!" Jeonghan exclaims.

You clear your throat. "I'm gonna call the company and see if they can come in tomorrow and set up the bed... properly. Can you guys just clean this up for me?"

You excuse yourself, making the phone call from the living room. You can still hear the boys bickering and scrambling.

After finishing up your phone call, you make your way back to your bedroom. The two boys look to you. "They said someone is going to come by in between 12 and 4 tomorrow. Thanks for the help though."

"But where are you going to sleep tonight?" Joshua asks.

You shrug. "The air mattress in the living room like I have been the past month."

"No, you've been sleeping on that busted ass air mattress for a month already. Just spend a night at Jeonghan's until the professionals come back tomorrow." Joshua suggests.

"Excuse me?" Jeonghan scoffs. "Have you actually lost your mind?"

"Jeonghan don't be rude, she's your neighbor," Joshua points out.

"Just because she's my neighbor that doesn't mean she needs to be sleeping in my apartment."

"Yeah well it's your fault the bed isn't set up, so the least you can do is offer her a place to sleep for one night." Joshua explains.

"Oh yeah, you really don't have to–"

"Nonsense," Joshua cuts you off and begins pushing you toward the front door. He grabs your phone and keys for you and continues pushing you out the room. "Jeonghan's a good guy and great company, it's the least he can do."

Jeonghan groans before trailing behind as the three of you head toward 222-A. When you arrive, Joshua leaves as quickly as he enters, leaving just you and Jeonghan.

It's painfully and awkwardly silent between the two of you. The only noise filling the room is the sound of rain from outside.

Jeonghan finally breaks the silence after what feels like an eternity. "Okay, I'll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed. Bedroom is right there to the left. Bathroom is connected to my room, it's the door on the right so you can take a shower." he states plainly.

"Thank you."

Without another word, he makes his way to the couch and plops down, turning on the television for himself. You stand there for a moment, blinking and dumbfounded before venturing into his bedroom.

His room is nice. Everything is kept neat and organized, much like the rest of his apartment. What really caught your attention however, was the large trophy cabinet pressed against the wall and filled with different lego sets.

Holy shit.

You stood in front of the cabinet, admiring the different lego sets. There were castles, spaceships, helicopters, bridges, trees, ships, and more.

Your attention soon shifted to the lego sets on his dresser. There were four of them, all built into cars. You couldn't begin to imagine how expensive and time consuming this must have been. The cars by far, were the most impressive things in the room.

Who knew your cold neighbor was a lego nerd?

Your eyes are trained on the cars, fingers running along the hard plastic as you admire his work.

"Don't touch those," a voice says from behind you, completely startling you.

You retreat your hands quickly, backing away from the dresser. "Sorry," you apologize sheepishly.

He doesn't acknowledge your apology. "I thought you'd be in the shower, so I was going to come in here and get some clothes for you to wear."

He begins looking through his neatly organized drawers.

"Oh, I can just get stuff from my apartment, it's no bother," you offer.

"It's fine," he says, pulling out a t-shirt. "Just don't stain my clothes or anything."

He leaves one of his shirts and a pair of shorts on the bed for you and exits the room. You shower and dress yourself in his clothes before venturing into the livingroom. He's still seated on the couch, he looks back at you before quickly shifting his attention back to the tv.

"Um," you scratch the back of your neck. "I'm done so... thank you."

"Mhm," he doesn't shift his eyes from the tv.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," you start.

"You think?" he brushes past you.

You sigh. "Sorry... I know me being here is inconveniencing for you, I'll just go back to my place and wash your clothes so you can have them back tomorrow. Thank you though."

You begin making your way toward the door.

"Wait," he sighs. "I'm sorry for being so mean to you." he pauses the tv.

You stop in your tracks.

"You can stay... I'm just a bit tired. I don't mind having you stay here all that much."

Relief washes over you.

"Thank you," you say before venturing back into his bedroom for the night.

_______________

It's funny how history repeats itself. For the second time in just a few weeks, you've woken Jeonghan up in middle of the night. Although this time was very different from the first.

He knocked out on the couch about a while ago, but indistinct mumbling whimpering and what sounded like crying brought him out of his slumber.

"Y/n?" he calls.

Nothing.

It's raining harder outside now. Shocks of lightning flash, illuminating the living room, often followed by loud crashes of thunder. He rises from the couch and makes his way toward the bedroom.

He calls your name again.

You don't respond. He watches the way the blanket jumps as the thunder crashes again. His face softens when he realizes, you're terrified.

"Y/n?" he takes cautious steps toward the bed.

"Jeonghan?" you question in just above a whisper. You pull the covers off your face, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sob. "I'm so sorry–fuck this is pathetic. I'm sorry."

He sits atop of the covers on to corner of the bed next to you. "Don't worry about it, you're fine. I get it–"

The thunder crashes again, causing your whole body to react. He feels awful.

"Do you... do you want me to sleep here with you tonight?" he asks hesitantly. "Would that make you feel better?"

"But you hate me," you mumble.

"I don't–I don't hate you," he sighs. " I told you already that I was sorry, please believe me. Honestly, I think I acted so coldly toward you because I've been kind of interested in you since you first showed up at my door and I have a bit of a defense mechanism when it comes to stuff like this."

"Are you serious? Because all my friends have been hearing on the phone is me talking about my hot neighbor for the past few weeks," you mumble into the pillow.

He smiles to himself at the thought. "Yes, I'm serious."

Wordlessly, you slide down the bed covers next to you, inviting him in. He accepts your invitation, slipping beneath the soft sheets next to you.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

You nod. "Yeah."

His face is so close. You're mere inches apart, the slightest movement in the right direction and your nose would brush against his.

Your heart is beating so fast, yet you somehow still feel at ease. You feel comfort with him, all feelings of fear wiped from your mind. His soft orbs stare into yours, occasionally drifting down to your lips and back into your eyes.

He's silently asking for permission to kiss you. He really really wants to. Is this even the right time for that?

Fuck it.

Holy shit–

Your eyes are closed before you know it.

You're not entirely sure of what to do with yourself, so instinctively you reach out, allowing your body to act before your mind. You stop fighting the urge that is kissing Yoon Jeonghan and allow an arm to wrap around his neck and the other entangling into his hair.

His hair is so soft.

He smiles against your lips, breaking away for only a moment. "I didn't ask before I did that," he whispers. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Anything but," you say against his lips.

It's all the permission he needs before leaning back in. Your lips are already tingling, burning with heat and excitement from the previous contact. This time, he's relentless, mouth meeting yours with hunger and desperation.

It was as if a fire broke out inside of both of you.

Your breathing changed, growing more shallow as warmth spread across your body. He was pressed so close against you, causing something to flutter in the pit of your stomach.

You were on cloud 9.

Never had you been kissed like that, and never had someone given you that feelings but fuck, it felt so good.

You began tugging lightly at his shirt, signaling that you wanted it off. He got your message quickly, momentarily breaking the heated kiss to slip the fabric off his body.

He tosses is somewhere onto the ground, he'll find it tomorrow morning. It was the least of his concerns right now. The pretty girl in his bed had all his attention.

Soon, other articles of clothing were stripped from both of your bodies, discarded onto the floor without a care. It didn't take long before your naked bodies were pressed against one another, lips still pressed against one another.

His delicate fingers trace along your skin gently. He pushes your body down lightly, pinning you flat onto the bed as he pulls away from the kiss. He climbs on top of you, hovering over your nude figure.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes. It's dark in the room, but the moonlight shines from his window, illuminating the room just enough that he can see your beautiful body and face.

He begins leaving a trail of kisses down your body. Your jaw, neck, breasts, stomach. He mumbles about how pretty you are with each kiss he leaves on your skin.

You tug at his hair with a whine when he presses a kiss against your lower stomach. "Jeonghan, just touch me... please."

He's happy to oblige.

He brings his head back up, burying in the crook of your neck as his fingers move between your thighs. You let out a soft moan at the initial contact.

He continues to work his fingers on you, focusing on your clit and smiling to himself as you start to soak his fingers. It doesn't take long for you to get wet enough for him to slip a finger in.

"Shit," you breathe out.

He continues pumping his finger before slipping in another. You're panting and moaning softly beneath him as he works his fingers on you. He curls them ever so slightly, creating the perfect angle that has you craving more.

You're pushing your hips into his fingers, fucking yourself on his slim digits. His thumb continues to rub circles on your clit as you completely soak his fingers.

It gets easier for him to pleasure you as he thrusts his fingers into your cunt. You sound so pretty too, whimpering his name as he coaxes you toward your orgasm.

You can feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach as you grow closer to your high. You're pushing your hips into his fingers messily, growing less and less coordinated as you desperately try to get yourself off.

It only takes another curl of his fingers before you're sent over the edge. Relief washes over you as you entire a state of euphoria. You can feel his hard cock twitch as its pressed against your inner thigh. He whispers sweet words against your collarbone as he talks you down from your high.

"Good?"

You nod in response, hands immediately reaching for his hard cock. "Need more... want you inside."

He curses to himself.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you plead. "Want you to feel good too... please fuck me."

He's quick to act, reaching into his nightstand drawer to grab a condom. He rips it open with his teeth and slides it on with ease before lining himself up with your entrance. He drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, teasing you just enough to whine about how you needed more from him.

And he was going to deliver.

Now that he prepped you, you took his length in easily. He slid in, building up to an intense thrusting speed in no time. You were so wet, the sounds of his cock fucking into you echoed throughout the bedroom.

"Fuck," he groans. "Was made for this fucking cunt... you take me so well."

Your head sinks into the pillow as you allow the pleasure to take over your body. The headboard creates a thud with each thrust, pushing against the wall as he fucks you. He fills you up so nicely, thrusting and hitting all your sweet spots.

Your bodies grow sticky and sweaty as he fucks you. "Feels so good," you moan.

Each drag of his cock into your cunt pushes your thoughts around in your brain. All the fear has been fucked out of you and you can hardly think properly. The only thing you know for sure right now is that he feels absolutely incredible inside of you.

You've never had sex like this before. So intimate... yet rough and full of passion. It was rare for your past partners to get you to climax, but you can already feel your second one approaching.

"You gonna give me another one already, pretty girl?" he asks.

All you can do is nod.

Your cunt is clenching around him, walls fluttering as you near your second orgasm of the night. He knows he won't last much longer either, not with the way you're gripping him.

"Oh fuck," you moan.

A few more thrusts are you're done for, allowing your second orgasm to fill you with inexplicable pleasure. You're somehow gripping him tighter when you cum, sending him into his own orgasm.

He fills the condom, pumping his cum into the rubber as your cunt milks him dry. You're both panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

He pulls out of you, discarding of the used rubber before snuggling up against you beneath the sheets. His arms are wrapped around your frame and his fingers entangle themselves into your hair.

"Are you okay?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yeah," you respond, snuggling closer into his chest.

"You were so good," he praises, lips brushing against your ear. "So so good."

"I wanted you to feel good," you admit with a yawn.

"You're perfect," he compliments. "You feeling sleepy?"

You nod. "A little."

"Okay," he continues running his fingers through your hair. "Get some rest okay? I'll hold you and make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You .let out another yawn. "Yeah... thank you neighbor."

You're out like a light in less than five minutes. Jeonghan finds himself smiling as you rest in his arms. He feels better with you in his bed, it helps him sleep better.

Before he knows it, he's drifting off. The storm outside has died down, and he knows when the sun comes up, you'll still be in his arms and he couldn't be happier.

He'll have to thank Joshua later.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[prolix-yuy]

A Gift of Light and Joy

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader "Conejita" (Plus Sized Reader)

Summary: Javi wants to spoil you, but his good intentions put you in a difficult position.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming on someone, minor cum play, negative body image, toxic shopping culture, some angst, Javi is clueless about women's clothes shopping but he makes up for it.

Notes: Happiest of happy birthdays to my darling, my sweet friend, the indescribable @ezrasbirdie! I was planning to post this around November but I couldn't pass up a chance to give you a fun little Javi present. I am so lucky to know you and get to yell about stories together!

While in the two previous stories Conejita wasn't described as plus sized, I always headcanoned that she was from the start. There are a couple references to the previous stories, but you can also dive in right here! Like most stories this is me working through a few bad experiences of my own, and while Javi may be a little thick in the beginning he will get to make up for it.

Cross-posted on AO3

Continued from On the Right Flight and A Bearable Weight

“I have a surprise for today.”

Javi’s gleeful face ramps up your own excitement as he ushers you into his car. 

“I thought we were going to have a picnic?” you ask as he flops into the drivers seat, curls bouncing almost as much as he is.

“That was my distraction,” he says, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. Your heart still flutters, even months after that first one at the stroke of midnight. 

Dating Javi had, of course, been just as much of a step off the deep end as you thought. Even being close by now that you’re back in LA for work and he’s hobnobbing with the Hollywood elites, some days getting dinner feels like making a doctor’s appointment. Matching schedules down to the half hour, groaning when something comes up. But it’s all worth it when the stars align and he’s on your doorstep with all-encompassing hugs and breathless kisses. 

At first Javi’s dates were low-key and low-stress - a day at the beach, movie nights of course - but as you got closer and closer he started to take you places that had dress codes and extravagant names. He always beamed like you were the only one in the room, but you’d been in enough spaces you didn’t belong to feel eyes and judgements skitter across your back. 

You could be poised, and knowledgeable, conversational and charming, but nothing changed how you looked. Javi was always dripping in Armani, Burberry, Brioni. Your paltry wardrobe didn’t stand a chance. Every new art show or movie premiere sent you running to a department store to find a new dress (pretty girls on their rich boyfriend’s arm didn’t reuse eveningwear) and inevitably you’d be pinched or poked or squeezed into something not made for you. Long minutes spent in the bathroom wondering if Javi would notice the bra strap divot in your shoulder, or the dark lines of seams pressed along your skin. Pretending you enjoyed slipping into a silk robe every time you spent the night was more palatable than the embarrassment of wriggling out of shapewear in front of him, or refusing to let him undress you in case a zipper pulled too tightly. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t hide your discomfort as well as you imagined. Sometimes you caught Javi’s concerned look when the built-in corset made you squirm in your seat, or when you winced at the chafe of your heels. 

So when he parks his car on Rodeo Drive he’s the picture of pride and sunshine. You, on the other hand, leave your stomach on the sidewalk behind you.

“I wanted to do something special,” he’s saying, muffled words bubbling up as your feet trudge to a gleaming glass door. There’s security inside, sales people scattered around holding hangers up to discerning buyers. “And before you say anything about money, I don’t want you to look at a single price tag.” Javi turns your face to him with a gentle nudge, breaking your doom stare through the glass. “I want to spoil you a little. You never let me spoil you.” His pout brings a little smile to your face, dipping in to kiss him. 

“We can do anything Javi. I don’t need things,” you try to deflect, hoping you can convince him away from the inevitable rejection you’ll receive inside. 

“Just one time?” he asks again, soft brown eyes imploring you. How could you say no? 

“Okay,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for the worst as Javi beams back at you.

“I thought this place would match what you like,” he says as two suited doormen guide you inside. It flutters your heart. He’s right, you’ve always liked this designer’s silhouettes and styles. It’s exactly what you’d choose…if you were several sizes smaller.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” a small-framed woman with black plastic glasses and a bouncy ponytail asks. She’s dressed head to toe in the designer’s current collection, sleek black throughout with stylish red earrings that dangle down her neck. Her smile isn’t as cold as you might expect. You’d heard horror stories of snide sales people practically insulting clients to get them to spend more. 

“Yes, Gutierrez,” Javi offers smoothly, placing a grounding hand on your lower back. “For my girlfriend.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He doesn’t get the chance to say it often, but when he does you love the way girlfriend rolls off his supple lips.

“Ah, yes, miss…” the sales woman begins, letting you offer your name. You catch a fleeting look of concern cross her face. Her cheek sucks in like she’s chewing on it, smile still bright but eyes more cautious.

“My name is Melanie, if you’d like to follow me to your consultation space,” she says, leading you and Javi to a curtained-off partition with several chairs, a changing room and a pedestal that makes your stomach flip. 

“So what are you here to find today?” Melanie asks. Javi settles in a chair, spreading his knees and leaning back so sexily you can almost forgive him for the anxiety pumping through your veins. 

“Whatever my Conejita desires,” he says, and you’re torn between smacking or straddling him. Melanie turns her attention to you and you wrack your brain.

“I guess…a dress would be nice?” you say. Javi reaches out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, adoration so clear in his eyes. He truly has no idea it’s the most likely to have ease in the sizing. You might make it out with one and blame it on not wanting to overspend. Javi would get his wish, and you would make it out with most of your ego unscathed. Win-win.

Melanie leads you out of the space and into the clothing racks. The choices are sparse, a few items hung per rack in an exclusivity motif. As soon as you’re out of earshot she starts chatting.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet to be treating you today.”

You hum and nod, chewing the inside of your lip. Some of the pieces are very pretty, flattering cuts and classic shapes, but none of the silhouettes look large enough for you. 

“Does he…do this often?” Melanie asks carefully, and when you look at her you see an understanding that soothes you ever so slightly.

“First time.”

“A surprise.”

“Yeah, pretty big one.”

Melanie smiles at that, arms wrapped around an iPad. Her nails are very pretty tapping against the device.

“Let’s take a look back here,” she says, leading you off the main floor and further into the store. The racks are fuller back here, but not nearly enough to make you think success is within reach. Your chest tightens, but you put on a cheery smile when Melanie turns back to you.

“Men are just…so thick sometimes,” she sighs, and the sharp change makes you bleat out a laugh. “I’m sure Mr. Gutierrez has the best intentions in mind…”

You nod and finish her sentence.

“...but you don’t have anything here for me.” Her hands clutch at the tablet again, going white around the knuckles.

“We might have a few things, but they’ll be simpler. Not like the current collection.”

“Simple is fine,” you rush to say, her smile making your own come to the surface. 

“Okay, let me go digging. I think we can make it work. I’m…” She pauses to clear her throat, lowering her voice. “I’m sorry this isn’t fun. I hate it. I just want everyone to feel happy in their clothes, not…left out.”

You turn your comfort to her, squeezing her shoulder.

“I appreciate you trying to help.”

Melanie scurries off to the backroom, leaving you on the bustling floor with ten other women who could slip into anything off the rack no problem. Weaving aimlessly, you peruse the dresses. Each one holds promise, which only makes it more disappointing when the tag numbers run too small. But you’re keeping positive, searching for Melanie’s bouncing ponytail returning with anything. You’d gush over a mumu. 

“Excuse me,” comes over your shoulder, and you turn to another sales woman hovering expectantly behind you. Her brow is lifted high, barely waiting for you to shift before tugging a garment off the rack. She turns quickly, but in the split second before you see it. That stomach-dropping look that screams good luck slathered in sarcasm. Your throat clenches, hands coming to your middle and you wish you could just collapse into yourself like a dying star. 

“Fuck this,” you whisper, tears shining in your eyes as you hurry back to the consultation space. You’ll tell Javi you have a headache, that you’re too hungry to shop right now, anything to convince him to get the hell out of here. 

“Cone…” he says as you burst in, snatching up your purse and steeling your voice. The sunshiney excitement trades quickly for concern. “What is wrong? I promise the cost…” 

“Actually, I don’t really…I don’t…” You try to get out your white lies with an even tone but when Javi cups your face in his large hands your composure crumples. A fat tear breaks rank and rolls down your face, Javi’s eyes widening with shock.

“Conejita, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes darken a fraction. “Did someone say something to you?”

Your heart skips a beat, which you blearily file for later introspection. Resting your head on his shoulder, he envelops you in his arms. Orange peel and musk surrounds you, Javi’s soothing hands traveling up and down your spine. When your breaths stop warbling you pull back, wiping your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, but Javi moves you to sit. He drops to a kneel, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No, Conejita, you are not apologizing for one second. What has upset you? Was it someone out there?” When you shake your head, his eyes soften. “Was it me?”

“Oh Javi,” you sign, squeezing his hands. Your lashes are still wet with tears, but you can see his dread so clearly. “I really appreciate this, all of it. I’m sure it’s flattered lots of people before. But I’m…me.” You release a big breath, the pain of keeping all your anxieties in finally easing. “I can’t shop at places like this, Javi, I don’t…they don’t make clothes like this for people my size.” 

Javi’s concern smashes into confusion.

“But they must have seamstresses in the back. They take your measurements, no? Find an acceptable piece and tailor it?”

The laugh you bark out is watery but it does raise the corners of your lips.

“Men have it so easy,” you bemoan. “I think the closest size I saw was still in the single digits. And even then, the numbers rarely mean anything.” Javi’s confusion only deepens.

“But how do you know what to buy? Surely the measurements are the same. Inseam, waist, sleeve length, how can it be so different?”

“Javi, I’m rarely the same size at the same store.”

Javi sputters. “That’s madness. How does anyone put up with that?” 

You giggle lightly, the tears finally receding. “I just go to the department stores. More variety, more sizes. No pushy sales people. Though Melanie is really nice.”

“But you are still uncomfortable,” he says, stroking his thick thumbs along the back of your hands. “I did not want to say anything, but I noticed. You do not seem to feel good in the nice things you wear.” 

You shrug. “It’s not perfect, it’s just…easier.”

His eyes implore up at you. “I wanted you to feel good with me.” Your heart patters, Javi’s face falling. “But I have made it worse. Please forgive me, Conejita, I truly did not know this would be so painful.”

You pat Javi’s cheek and give him a quick kiss. “I know, Javi. I know you didn’t mean for it to be.” A tap on his nose makes him smile. “But next time, when the lady doth protest too much, maybe listen?” Javi’s cheeks pink as he nods.

“Shakespeare has always been wiser than me,” he jokes as he helps you back to your feet. He leads you back to the front of the store with one hand on your back, and for a few seconds you do feel like the most beautiful person in the room. Women looking at you in awe, Javi’s fingers pressing in a way that’s subtly possessive. You could be lady Godiva riding a Shetland pony and not feel a lick of shame when he looks at you like that.

“Mr Gutierrez!” Melanie calls as she hurries up to the front to intercept. Her hands are empty, which is a relief.

“Thank you for your help, I just don’t think there’s anything for me here,” you say in a practiced tone that makes Javi pull you closer and Melanie’s eyebrows knit in the middle. She nods, extending a folded piece of paper to Javi. 

“I’m sorry they didn’t have something for you today,” she says, and Javi takes the proffered paper. He leads you out of the store and into the fresh sunlight of the street. Unfolding it, he raises an eyebrow then secrets it away in his jacket pocket.

“What was that about?” you ask, tucking your arm into his elbow. He shakes his head.

“Nothing important. What is important is going to get some lunch, then we are going driving with the top down and dinner at my place after.” 

“Javi…” you say with a little warning, but he tuts at you as his long stride pulls you down Rodeo drive.

“I know, I know what you will say, but bear with me because I am learning how to love you the right way. Today was not so good, but I would like to try and make it better.” He slows down when he catches your wide eyes and dazed smile. “What? What have I said now?”

“That you love…” the last words disappear on the wind as Javi’s smile crinkles his eyes.

“Of course, Conejita. Dios mio, of course I love…I love you,” he rushes out, barely able to finish before crashing his lips into yours. Wide palm cupping your head, you couldn’t care less that you’re making pedestrians part around you. Javi loves you, even if he’s a little clumsy about it. But when someone wants to learn to love you the right way…how can you not love every atom of them back?

The following weekend finds you in one of the lesser-used rooms in Javi’s house, sitting on a chair by the window. He deposited you there with a cappuccino and a promise to wait, so now you’re doing just that. Javi does love surprises, but you never expected Melanie to walk in the door.

“Oh my god, hi,” you manage to get out, standing up to shake her hand but are treated to a tight hug instead. She looks brighter, lighter than the last time you saw her, black ensemble traded for a pale blue button-up and floral patterned pants. 

“Javi told me it was a surprise, and I want it on the record that after this one he’s not allowed any more!” You sit across the little cafe table from her with visible confusion.

“I am a bit…lost…as to the surprise,” you giggle out nervously, which has Melanie opening a smart black bag and taking out folios and fabric swatches.

“I’ve been trying to get my stylist business off the ground and…” She pauses for a moment before making genuine eye contact. “And if there’s anything I was meant to do, it’s find people clothes that make them happy. So I offered him my services and he’s…well, he’s been very generous.”

Pride swells in your chest. So Javi.

“So what we’re going to do today is figure out what you like, don’t like, colors, styles, and then I’ll start building your wardrobe. Sound good?” Melanie’s smile is contagious.

“Sounds amazing.”

You don’t quite understand every step of the process. At one point she drapes color swatches on your chest like a bib and you can’t help but giggle. But it’s fun, maybe for the first time you can remember. She writes down that you hate side-seam zippers and skirts cut above the knee. That you love color but not too garish. And when you catch Javi pacing outside the glass door to the patio, peeking in anxiously every five minutes, your smile softens. She probably doesn’t write that part down. That’s written on your face. 

You can’t stop twirling in the mirror, inspecting from every angle. You try to scrutinize, but you can’t find a single thing wrong.

It’s perfect.

After the wardrobe cleanout, the basics overhaul, and the lengthy plan Melanie made, she asked a thrilling question. 

“What’s the first piece you’d like me to find?”

“I’ve always wanted a little black dress,” you replied, and her smile almost eclipsed her face.

“I have the perfect one in mind.”

She wasn’t kidding. It’s full and flouncy, smoothing in all the places you normally criticize and accentuates your figure in the best ways. The fabric is sumptuous under your fingers, just the right weight without dreaded sheerness. You can imagine yourself with hair done up, your favorite lipstick, Javi’s hand on your lower back, that possessive glint in his eyes. All of the excitement makes you spin three more times, the room tilting briefly before you catch Javi standing in the doorway.

“Hey!” you call out breathlessly, smoothing the skirt again. “It’s the first thing Melanie’s sent over. I…oh my god, I love it so much.” You turn to look in the mirror again, and in the reflection you see Javi’s mouth parted, eyes dragging over you. His fingers are rubbing together at his sides and…is he clenching them?

“She took everything I said and just found the most perfect dress.” Your thumb catches in the fabric and you spin back around to gasp, “And it has pockets!”

You’ve barely taken your hands out of them when Javi is on you, all greedy mouth and firm hand on the back of your head. His tongue demands on your lips, slipping inside when you gasp for him. Arm banding around your back, he steadily walks you backwards towards the bed. 

“Conejita, mi amor, eres tan hermosa,” he pants, his wandering hand settling on your ass and squeezing. It crackles between your thighs, white-hot arousal at how he holds you. Javi has always been generous in bed, and highly competent, but this is a side of him you haven’t seen. Maybe briefly when he asked you if someone bothered you at that awful boutique store. 

Before you can rationalize anything further he guides your hips down to the bed, teetering on the edge. He quickly drops to his knees and dives his hands under the skirt, sliding one knuckle along the seam of your pussy. 

“Javi…” you squeak out, but his touch leaves to curl around your underwear and yank them down your legs. The rip of a seam makes arousal gush between your legs, spreading them instinctually. He licks his lips before fisting your skirt above your waist and ducking down to taste you for too brief a moment. Your hips buck, teeth nipping at your inner thigh before he lifts up to kneel between your legs. 

“Javi, the dress,” you caution, and with a sweeter smile he shifts his knees to make sure the fabric isn’t trapped between. When his eyes meet yours again he plants a hand by your head and laps between your lips, slow and sensual. The clink of his buckle coming undone aches deep in your core, fisting his button-up across his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Conejita, I just…cannot control myself when you look so beautiful,” he confesses as his fingers tease at your entrance. A choked whimper ekes out as he opens you up on two, pumping mercilessly into your clenching heat. He swears in Spanish into your neck, and your quiet whines grow to moans when his thick cock begins thrusting into the crease of your hip. His panted breaths start to take on a rumble, then a growl as his fingers match his shallow thrusts. Overwhelmed, you grasp at what words will make him give in.

“Javi, please, oh my god, please fuck me,” you finally manage, rocking your hips with his frantic pace. 

“You’re ready for me?” he husks, your vociferous affirmations drawing his fingers out to leave you achingly empty. He slicks his cock with you, lining up and pressing just the head in before he plants his hands by your head and just…looks at you.

“Dios mio, eres una diosa,” he breathes, all of the sweet man you love. Grabbing around his wrists, you roll your hips down to sink more of him inside. He stretches you so deliciously, filling your cunt and lungs.

“Take it, Javi,” you rasp, head tossed back. “Show me I’m yours.”

Javi bites his lower lip and looks at you with a depth you crave. Infatuation and devotion and a desire so hungry you want to sate him for hours. In a dizzying flick of his wrists he now presses yours into the bed. 

“Mine,” he purrs, and the snap of his hips as he buries himself flush draws a lusty cry from your lips. “My beautiful Conejita,” he grits out, grinding his hips deep to press punishingly into your g-spot. You writhe under him, legs clamped around his waist as he slides out just enough to punch back in. “You are mine, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Javi, yes, I’m yours,” you beg, and it’s exactly what he needs to begin fucking you earnestly, scooping his hips to drive deeper and deeper. The friction of his grind strums your clit just right to tremble around him. Pinning you with a rumble, he fucks you into the mattress until his wandering hands can’t stop from palming your breast, rolling your nipple through the fabric. The spike of pleasure urges you to meet him stroke for stroke, riding him just as hard back. He grabs your chin just firmly enough to coax more slick to coat his cock, guiding you back to his demanding mouth. He steals your breath, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and groaning when you shudder around him.

“Not going to last, mi amor,” he whispers, lacing your fingers together as his thrusts lose rhythm. 

“Cum on my pussy,” you plead, and with a strung-out moan he pulls out just quick enough to cover your mound with his hot spend. It drips lewdly, sliding to gather in the crease of your thighs. His eyes are fixated on it, the brand of his lust sticky on you. Your orgasm tips over as he slides his thumb through his cum to press firmly on your clit. His name is all you can manage as pleasure laps over your skin, his touch grounding as he praises you over and over.

In the afterglow, Javi folds the length of your skirt well above the mess he made. 

“I will be sure to send this to drycleaning before you want to wear it,” he says, pulling a juddery giggle from your chest. He stands oh shaky legs and you glimpse his wet cock in the vee of his open pants, realizing you just fucked like college kids so horny for each other they couldn’t even undress properly. It makes you giddy as he brings over tissues to clean up, careful not to leave any of his spend where it could stain. When he’s finally satisfied he drops down on the bed, opening his arms for you to snuggle into. Once fitted together, eyes heavy, he murmurs in your ear.

“It wasn’t the dress.”

You hum sleepily, sitting up to look into his sated face.

“You are most beautiful when you are happy,” he says, the earnestness earning him another sweet kiss.

“I am very, very happy Javi.”

He doesn’t need to tell you that he is. It’s written on his face, and in his heart. 

END

[rollingsins]

all hers, part viii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual. Ghostface!Tara

warnings: (+18), ghostface!tara, possessive behaviors, murder of an established character. 

word count: 4k

a/n: peep the murder warning for this one, thought we’d get stabby again ;) as always, thanks so much for the love and let me know what you want to see next!

Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual. 

You’ve felt it ever since the night of Amber’s party. He had always been one of Tara’s quieter friends. Shy, almost. But he was sweet, and he’d always had a lot in common with Tara. They both liked those awful, gory horror movies. Video-games. They had the same taste in food and in books. In fact, out of all of Tara’s friends, you think you liked Wes the most. He’d been the first to welcome you into the group when you’d started dating Tara, and he always went out of his way to make you feel like you belonged. 

But over the past week he’d been acting even stranger. 

It had started in the cafeteria on Monday, when you’d arrived late to lunch and climbed into your usual spot in Tara’s lap. He’d watched you close as you’d kissed her softly, fed her the last of your grapes. He was just lonely, you figured. He wanted a girlfriend of his own, maybe. 

But then Tuesday he’d looked down at your entwined hands in the hall and made a face. Something you couldn’t quite place in his expression. 

Wednesday he’d left the table the moment you and Tara sat down. 

And Thursday he spent the entire biology lesson staring at the back of Tara’s head. And something clicked. 

“Wes has a crush on you.” You tell Tara that night. She’s in the kitchen, one hand stirring the potatoes, the other minding the chicken. You’d been thinking about it all afternoon. Stewing about it all afternoon. The idea of him and her made your stomach writhe with hot, wanton jealousy. 

Tara looks up at you for a moment. Then, she quirks her eyebrow and snorts. 

“It’s not funny.” You tell her, smacking her arm gently. 

“Why on earth would you think that?” She asks. She’s amused, you can tell by the sparkle in her eyes. You’re not laughing. 

“I caught him staring at you today.” You say, “All through biology. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” 

She stirs the chicken, a smile playing on her lips. 

“Maybe he was daydreaming.” She suggests, a little wry. 

“Babe. He wasn’t daydreaming. He was staring. He has a crush on you.” 

Tara puts down her spoon, reaches for you. 

“Wes doesn’t have a crush on me,” Tara assures. She pulls you into her, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “He’s like my brother. You have nothing to worry about.” 

She makes her point with a kiss. Strokes the hair out of your eyes. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” You mumble. You feel hot, a little tingly. It had been hard for you at first to understand why Tara got so angry when she thought someone liked you. You think you understand it now. Anger burns under your skin. Anger towards him. 

“Stop worrying.” She kisses you once more. Retracts to go back to her cooking, “Wes is harmless. And he doesn’t like me. I’ve known him forever.” 

It feels unfair, the way she’s allowed to brush this off so easily. Your mind can’t help but wander. Dan. Sam. Sadie. Chase. Amber. All with one thing in common. 

“If he had a crush on me, you’d have killed him by now.” You don’t often bring it up, the elephant in the room. It was unspoken between you. Like if you didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist. 

Tara looks up at you. She isn’t smiling anymore.  

“That’s different.” She says, quiet. Your lip twitches. 

“How?” 

“You know how.” 

You do know how. She’d explained it, one night when you were entwined and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The Rage, she’d called it. She described the feeling. Hot, ever-present, like burning bright fury coursing through her veins. 

“Well, maybe that’s how I’m feeling right now.” 

It feels like a low blow, the moment the words leave your lips. If you were honest, you had no idea what The Rage felt like. This was something different. Something less. Insecurity, maybe. Jealousy. You didn’t want Wes thinking of your girlfriend the way only you were supposed to. 

“So what are you saying?” Tara asks, “You want to kill him? You want me to kill him?”

You hesitate a moment. 

“No. Of course not.”

“Good.” She says. There’s tension in her shoulders. She stirs the potatoes, a little more violently, “Because I won’t. He’s my friend.” 

She points her spatula at you, accusingly, “And besides, you made me promise-”

“I know.” You cut her off. Rub your eyes, “I’m sorry. Forget it. I don’t know why I said that.” 

You lean into her, press your forehead to her shoulder. She’s tense. You press your lips to the back of her neck, trying to soothe her. Trying to apologize. 

“You’re right, he was probably daydreaming.” You say and she relaxes. 

Wes isn’t in school the next day. It’s still there in the back of your mind, the idea that he wants your girlfriend. You try to shake it, the horrible feeling of suspicion that seeps into your bones. He has no chance with her even if he does like her, you tell yourself, She loves you. She wants you. 

If nothing else you can believe that. 

It’s Friday, date night, and Tara’s taking you out to a new place that opened up a couple of towns over. You want to wear something special, look nice for her, so you insist she drives you back to your house so you can grab your outfit after school. She parks in her usual spot, down a small side street so your dad doesn’t see her and switches off the engine. 

“I’ll only be five minutes.” You tell her, leaning over the console of the car to kiss her, “Thanks, baby.” 

And you exit the car and dash up to the house.  

Your dad isn’t home, a small blessing, so you make your way upstairs and rifle through your closet, looking for the dress you want. 

Not a minute later, someone is ringing your doorbell. 

When you answer, it’s Wes standing at the door. 

He looks terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. He’s jittery, nervous. He swallows when he sees you. 

“YN.” His voice is serious, “Can I come in?” 

This is it, you think as he plays with the can of soda you’ve offered him, he’s about to tell me he’s going to make a play for my girlfriend. 

He’s refused your offer to sit down so you stand, watching as he paces back and forth through your kitchen. 

Your stomach writhes, that familiar feeling of jealousy sinking in. 

Tara will rebuff him. 

It’s that voice in your head, trying to calm you. 

But then again, what if she doesn’t?

Wes sits. Flattens his hands on the table. His knee is bouncing, nervous. He looks as though he might throw up. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

You blink back at him. Grit your teeth. 

“Alright.” 

You wait, but he takes a minute. Decent of him to pay you a visit, you think briefly, as decent as a person could be when he’s about to try and steal your girlfriend from you. Your mind flashes to all those times he’d been with her alone. Taking her to the cinema to watch whatever latest slasher was showing. Talking for hours with her about the importance of elevated horror over a plate of fries at the local diner. You wonder if that’s how he’d fallen for her. A beautiful girl talking animatedly with him about a bunch of teenagers who’d been carved up by a masked killer. 

If only he knew.  

“I don’t want you to freak out.” Wes says. His eyes are wide, earnest. “I’ve thought really long and hard about this and I wanted to come here first. You deserve the truth.” 

He runs a hand through his bleached hair. He’s handsome, you suppose. You could see the appeal. They’d make an attractive couple. Your heart clenches painfully at the thought. 

Tara loves you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara doesn’t want him. 

The voice is back. You’re grateful for it. Wes could tell Tara he wanted her until he was blue in the face, it wouldn’t make a lick of a difference. 

“Wes-” You say. You think for a moment, trying to pick your words carefully, “I know what you’re going to say. And-”

“You don’t.” Wes says. His leg is bouncing again, “Please, YN. I need to get this out now or I won’t be able to say it.”  

You stare. 

“Do you remember that party a few weeks back? The night Amber died?” His voice is shaky, uneven. You frown. That’s when Wes realized he was in love with Tara? The night one of his best friends was being murdered? 

“Of course.” You say. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand. You look down at it, see Tara’s name flash across the screen. 

almost done babygirl? not getting any younger over here. 

“Is that Tara? Don’t answer it.” Wes says, voice urgent. “Please.” 

You put your phone on the counter. 

“Wes, I have dinner reservations. Whatever you need to say-” 

“My mom has this theory.” He interrupts, “I’ve overheard her talking about before. The attacks, they’re not random. They’re all connected.” 

Something niggles at you in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m confused.” You say, “What are we talking about?”

“Amber made a pass at you that night.” Wes continues on as if he didn’t hear you, “In front of all of us, do you remember?”

Your stomach flips. Wes is staring at you, his eyes wild. Suddenly, you think you’ve got everything wrong. 

“Yes.” You say, voice low, “So what?” 

“Sadie was your ex-girlfriend. Chase was your best friend.” Wes says, “Everyone knew he liked you. Including Tara.” 

The room’s getting smaller, closing in. You press your hand to the counter, suddenly wishing you’d sat down. 

“The other two - I don’t know, maybe they liked you. Maybe you had a thing with one of them at some point.” He’s rambling but you can barely hear him. “I think they were killed because they liked you. Same with Sadie, same with Chase, same with Amber.” 

The blood’s rushing to your head. You grip the counter so hard your fingers turn white. 

Wes doesn’t seem to notice. He takes another shaky breath, looks you straight in the eyes. 

“I think Ghostface is killing people who are connected to you.” He says. “YN, I think Tara is Ghostface.”

The room spins. The hair on the back of your neck rises tall. Every atom in your body courses thick, fast, in a mesh of panic and fear and confusion. 

He knows. 

His eyes are wide, desperate to convince you. 

“Please don’t panic.” He says. He rises, reaches for you. His hands press hard around your forearms. Your face is white, he must see how you look as if you might pass out. 

“I know it sounds crazy. I know it’s a shock. But I’m certain. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t certain.” 

Your mouth opens, then closes. You have questions, so many questions. You want to know how he knows, what he knows. You want to know everything. You don’t know how to ask. 

“Have you told anyone else?” The most pressing question spills from your mouth before you can stop it. His mom is the sheriff, god, his mom is the sheriff. If she knows it’s over. Tara will be in a cell by sunset. 

He shakes his head, wildly, “No. I wanted to come to you first. I wanted to keep you away from her before she could hurt you too.” 

You exhale. You can’t hide your relief. He catches it, his eyes knit tight in confusion. 

“YN, do you understand what I just told you? Tara is Ghostface.” 

You take a breath. Look him in the eye. Wes is sweet. He’s nice. And Tara is his friend. You can talk him down, you know you can. 

“Wes, that’s-” You take a shaky breath, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” 

He stares at you, shakes his head. 

“No, no it’s not. YN-” 

“Tara is not Ghostface.” You tell him firmly, “She’s my girlfriend. She’s your friend.”  

“It’s her, YN. I’m sure. Think about it. Where was she, that night that Amber died?” He’s staring at you, searchingly, desperate to convince you.

“She was with me.” You insist, “She drove me home. I stayed with her, in her bed. She was with me the whole night. If she had left, I would have known.” 

Something flickers behind his eyes. His eyebrows knit tight in confusion.

“She didn’t drive you home.” He says, voice a little flat. “I saw Sam pick you up. I watched Tara put you in the car.”

Your heartbeat pounds. Idiot, you think, of course he saw you. why did you lie?  

The look in your eyes is all he needs. His blue eyes blink back at you as he pieces it together. Hurt, confusion, realization. 

“Oh my god.” He says, as it dawns on him, “You already know. You already know it’s her.” 

Your fingers grip white on the countertop. You swallow hard. 

“Wes. You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

He backs away from you slowly, runs his fingers through his bleach blonde hair. 

“I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this. Are you in on it with her?” He’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s scared. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Wes, calm down.” You reach for him but he jerks back away from you. “Wes.” 

Your mind races. In all your effort to unravel his theory, you’d only confirmed it more. Tara flashes through your mind. Her sweet smile. Dark, chocolate-eske eyes. Freckle-kissed face. 

You think of Wes driving madly to the police station, pointing the finger at her. You think of the Sheriff pulling up to Tara’s house in a squad car and dragging her away in handcuffs. 

You think of Tara in a cell. Tara in an orange jumpsuit. The smack of the Judge’s gavel as he declares he guilty and locks her away for life. Far away from Woodsboro. Far away from you. 

You’re thinking of her when you grab the knife. 

It happens in a flash. Wes launches himself at the door, trying to make a break for it. Adrenaline rushes through you. The handle is cool around your palm as you wrap your fingers around it. You surge forward, grab the back of Wes’ shirt and tug him towards you. In a panicked, heavy swing, you thrust the knife forward and sink it into Wes’ back.  

He cries out, stumbles forward onto the carpet. The knife is lodged deep between his shoulder blades. You don’t think, you act. Rush forward and take the handle between your fingertips. He yells out again as you pull the blade out. Thrust it forward once more, then twice, then three times until his whimpering is dying down and your hands are coated thick with his blood. 

He falls limp beneath you, face down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Your hands shake as the knife clatters to the fall. 

Over the blood in your ears, you hear your phone buzzing. 

You stumble backwards, grab it from the kitchen counter. It’s Tara, her smiling face looks back at you as you coat the phone bloody. 

“Five minutes my ass.” Her voice is light, she’s teasing, “Maybe I need to buy you a watch.” 

“Tara.” You whimper into the phone. Your hands are shaking. You stare down at Wes’ bloodied body. 

He stares back at you, lifeless. Dead.

“Baby?” You hear the concern in her voice, “What’s wrong?”  

“Tara,” You gasp into the phone. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out, “Tara, please you have to come, I’ve done something really bad. Tara-” 

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there. Stay on the line with me, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.” 

But you can’t, you don’t even know it yourself. It’s all a blur. The shake of Wes’ knee, his blue eyes earnest, worried. Fearful as he backed away from you. Glassy now as he stares back at you. Tears roll down your face as you sob into the phone. 

By the time you hear the front door open, you’ve sunken down into the floor, wide-eyed, clutching the phone in your hands as you look at the sight in front of you. 

When she enters, you watch as she freezes. Blood splattered across the floor. On the ceiling. All over you. Wes’ lifeless body at the center. Her eyes linger on him, wide and mournful. 

“Baby. What have you done?” 

“I had no choice.” You feel tears spill from your eyes. The awful metallic smell of blood permeates from your red hands. “He knew, Tara, he knew.” 

She’s moving over to you, kneeling down to your level. You sob as you feel the warmth of her on you, her fingers on your face, brushing your blood soaked hair out of your eyes, on your shoulders, tugging you into her. 

“He knew what, baby?”

She takes your hands, looking for something, inspecting. Cuts, maybe. There’s no point. It’s all his blood. 

You choke back a sob. She pulls you in close. 

“He knew you were Ghostface.” You say, tears are streaming thick and fast down your face now, “He came here to tell me. He didn’t know I knew.”

Your voice shakes, “He was going to go to the police, I had no choice-”

“Oh, honey.” She pulls you into her, nestles her hand in your hair. You choke back a sob. Press your face to her chest. Her scent, her arms around you soothe you instantly. But you don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve her comfort. You just killed somebody. 

“Tara, what did I do?” 

“Hey. It’s alright.” Her hands are either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.” 

She presses a long kiss to your lips. Your lips quiver against hers. 

“It’s all going to be okay.” She murmurs as she pulls back. You feel her take charge, “You’re going to go and get into the shower. Wash your hair. Scrub under your nails. Put the clothes you’re wearing in a plastic bag and wait for me upstairs, okay? I’m going to clean this up.” 

A fresh wave of tears falls thick down your face. 

“Tara-” 

“Baby. I need you to be strong for me now. Okay? Tell me what you’re going to do.” 

You swallow. Her voice is urgent, her eyes flitting between yours. 

“Baby.” 

“I’m going to shower. I’m going to wash my hair and scrub under my nails. And then I’m going to put my clothes in a plastic bag and wait for you upstairs.” 

She kisses you. 

“Good girl.” She murmurs against your lips, “That’s my good girl. It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart.” 

You shudder as she retracts. 

“Where’s your dad? What time will he be home?” 

You didn’t even think about him. Panic swells in your chest, fills your eyes. 

“I don’t know. God, Tara, if he comes home and sees this-”

Her hands grip firm around your shoulders. 

“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t panic. Just think. Where is he usually on a Friday? What time does he finish work?” 

You blink, struggle as you think hard. 

“Friday drinks.” You say, finally, “He goes to that bar on 2nd with his work friends. He’s not home until like eight.” 

“Good.” Tara says. She presses a kiss to your forehead, “See? Everything will be fine. Now go upstairs, and do exactly what I said.” 

You try not to think. 

You shower, exactly like she said. Put your clothes in a bag and leave them on the bathroom floor. 

Then you slip into one of Tara’s old hoodies and curl up into your duvet and press your eyes closed. Try not to think about how Wes had felt under you as you drove your knife into him. Try not to think about his screams. 

She doesn’t come up for a while. You hear her down there, moving around. You can smell the bleach wafting up the staircase. Finally, after what seems like hours she’s moving into the bathroom and turning on the water. 

She’s naked when she emerges, drops her towel and rifles through your wardrobe for an outfit. Slips on a pair of your sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“What did you do with him?” Is the first thing you say. Salt on your lips from the tears. You can still taste the metallic twang of his blood. 

“Don’t worry about that. Come on sweetheart, we’re leaving.” She pulls you up out of bed, wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Home.” 

The kitchen is immaculate. Scrubbed down, perfectly clean. Almost like it never happened. There’s a large suitcase by the door when you get down the stairs. You stop in your tracks. Your heart drops. 

“Tara, is he in there?” 

Her hands are strong on your back as she leads you forward. 

“Yes he’s in there. It’s broad daylight, sweetheart. It was the only way.” 

You didn’t even think about the logistics. The clean-up. The neighbors. The body. The body that was inside your Dad’s suitcase. 

“What are you going to do with him?” Bile rises in your throat. Tara rubs your back, presses her lips to the side of your head. 

“It’s better if you don’t know, babe. Come on, let’s get in the car.” She tries to pull you forward, but you resist. 

“Tara. I want to know.” 

She stares at you for a long moment. 

“I’m going to wait until it’s really late and then I’m going to drive out to the river and dump him in it.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand. She doesn’t allow you a moment longer to think. 

“Baby. Come on.” 

The drive home feels like a dream. You stare out through the windshield, trying to blink back your tears. Her hand grips yours tight over the center console. The radio blares some pop song. Kids play in the street. Grief washes through you. Grief you caused yourself. 

Tara helps you out of the car, half carries you upstairs to her bedroom. You can’t stop thinking about him. He’d been here only a couple of weeks ago, laughing and smiling and smoking weed in the living room. The lump in your throat aches at the thought. 

You curl up under Tara’s covers. Breathe deep, trying to surround yourself in her scent. You feel her tuck herself into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, not an inch of space between you. Her lips ghost the back of your neck. 

“Are you hungry?” She’s murmuring, “I’m going to order us some food.” 

“We’ve missed our reservation.” You say, a million miles away. You could have been there by now. Sharing a plate of sushi and holding her hand over the table. 

“We’ll go next week.” She promises, as if things are perfectly normal and there isn’t a body in a suitcase in the trunk of her car. As if it isn’t your fault he’s in there. 

“His mom’s going to be so upset.” You can’t stop the tears from flooding over now. You’d met Wes’ mom once. Judy, the town sheriff. She was a hard ass. And she loved her son with everything she had. Tara squeezes you tight. 

“Don’t think about that, honey.” 

“I’m an awful person.” You whimper. 

“No you’re not. You did what you had to do.” Her voice is firm, “You were protecting me. The way I protect you.” 

She kisses your neck. You close your eyes, try not to think. Feel the beat of her heart, the warmth of her body pressed against you. The sweet smell of her shampoo. Coconut, you think, coconut and vanilla. 

“If you didn’t do what you did, I’d be gone now. I’d be locked away. They’d take me far away from you.” 

At that, you turn in her arms. Lean up to kiss her, fierce. 

“Nobody’s taking you from me.” You say. You lock your hands around her neck, brush your nose against hers. “Nobody.” 

Not Wes, and certainly not Judy. You’d die without her. You’d kill to keep them from her. She’s yours. She belongs with you. 

Your heartbeat steadies, slightly. You take a shaky breath as you look into the warm brown of her eyes. Brush your fingertips over the spatter of freckles across her nose. She’s everything to you. She’s more important than anyone else. Anything else.

“Nobody.” She affirms. 

Next part

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Frank Castle X Reader: Bloody savior

Explicit content ahead (mdni)

Warning: Shower sex, breeding kink (lightly), smut, kissing, creampie, penetration (p in v), size difference, mentions of masturbation, sexual fantasies, use of 'sir', description of killing, blood, death, fighting, use of weapons, cruising.

Summary: Frank got caught and you came to the rescue. When getting cleaned up smut ensues

Word count: 4K

You had this look in your eyes. A manic kind of look. Like a hungry animal who’d just caught a whiff of blood for the first time in weeks. Castle knew that look. He was familiar with it. He had it when he’d been in Afghanistan and he’d brought it back home with him. He could put it away, ignore the hunger for a while but whether he liked it or not it was always there in the back of his mind. In Frank the hunger was fueled by revenge. Ever since what happened with his family it seemed that the hunger had become insatiable. He’d learned to live with it. Learned to control it. But every once in a while it’d break free and hell would break loose. You’d come into Frank's life as a pleasant surprise, an ally, a friend and eventually a partner. You were different in various aspects but the thing that tied you to each other was your desire to make things right. Whatever it took. You didn’t have training like Frank, you’d never served but you knew your way around a gun. Your dad had made sure of that.  Because of this you knew how to keep up with Castle. Knew how to clean your weapons, keep them nice and polished but most importantly you knew how to use them when the time came. You were a hell of a good shot, not better than Frank but then again few were more capable at warfare then him. He lived off it, thrived in the chaos. You only chose violence when there was no other way. 

They had left you with no other choice. 

The minute Frank didn’t  return from his stakeout you knew something was wrong. Knew they got to him somehow. Nearly no one knew he was alive and the ones who did were set on making sure he wouldn’t see another day. That meant you were his only chance, and by god were you going to make sure you got him out alive. 

With Lebiermans help you managed to find Frank's possible location and made your way to it. Once you surveyed the area, taking note of possible exits in the building. You managed to sneak into the second floor deck moving quickly as you tried to pinpoint where they were keeping Frank. You had expected them to be holding somewhere underground, that would have been the smart choice, but to your surprise they had him in one of the upper bedrooms, the one with a bigass window. It was too risky to simply break the glass and jump in. The noise would attract to much unwanted attention and by what you had managed to see Frank seemed to be passed out in the chair he’d been tied to.YOu wondered how these fools had gotten a jump on Frank when you remembered he’d been injured in your last mission and hadn’t had the proper time to heal completely. 

Fucking cowards. 

You gritted your teeth as you tried to figure out a way into the room that would make you have to deal with too many people. Just as you were about to make a move the door to the room opened. You ducked down, getting into a position that allowed you to see what was happening while at the same time not letting yourself be seen. You watched as a large man made his way towards Frank, followed by two buff men carrying guns.  The large man, who you believed to be the leader of the gang, got to Frank and slapped him hard in the face. Frank flinched awake, his body moving against his restraints. You couldn’t hear what they were saying through the glass but it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on. They were trying to pull information out of Frank but he wasn’t talking. You watched Frank's features seeing them twist into his signature snarl. You hesitated for a moment, maybe it would be best to let Frank handle these three by himself and once the rest came in you’d make your entrance. The thought was gone in a matter of seconds. The leader had pulled out a knife cutting the once almost healed wound in Frank's shoulder. Frank's face scrunched up in pain, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Even as blood gushed down Frank's arm he refused to talk. Clearly annoyed by the lack of answers the gang leader began punching Frank. He kept hitting Frank with everything he had. The grip on your weapon tightened. You were going to make them pay for this.

Frank was used to pain. He’d learned to live with it. Even so the blood he was losing was making his head spin and the constante plowing he was receiving was causing his brain to hurt. He should be trying to get out of his chains. Should be trying to grab the knife on his enemy's hip but he couldn’t get himself to move. For a moment he wondered if this was it. After everything he was going to die in some shit house because of some idiot gang. Just as he’d begun to accept that maybe this was the end he heard shooting outside. His attacker's punch stopped in the middle of the air, his head turning towards the sound of guns firing.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“I think someone broke in, boss.”

“That’s impossible.”

The noise of bullets was exchanged by the sound of screams. It kept growing closer. The sound of bodies falling to the ground becoming more and more consistante. Frank saw the fear in the eye of the three men before him.

“You two watch the door and don't let anyone come in until I'm done with this one.”

Frank watched as the boss turned to face him, his fist rising in the air once more when silence overtook the room. These fools had no idea what that meant. In their head the quiet meant it was over. It lulled them into a false sense of security. Made them think that they were safe. Frank knew what it meant though. It was your signature move. Make the enemy think he’d won and once they let their guard down you atack. Frank couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re dead.”

The three men turned to face him, the unexpected tranquility being replaced by fear.

“Big talk for someone strapped to a chair.”

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

The moment the words left his mouth the door of the room blew off its hinges.

You wasted no time the second your eyes caught onto one of them you ponced. You latched onto one of the men slitting his throat with ease. The other lackey started to fire at you but his gun jammed. You looked at him, a smile gracing your features as you raced toward him pushing him into the wall before head bumping him and sticking your blade into his neck. His body slumped to the ground, blood gushing from his wound as you pushed your knife deeper. You snapped your head in Frank's direction, eyes falling on the boss. He was a big man. Larger than you but he was unarmed and you were fueled by an abnormal amount of adrenaline. You could take him. You moved like a cat, twisting your blade in your palm as you waited for your prey to move. You glanced at Frank upon noticing how beat up he looked your shoulders sagged a bit. Your pity quickly turned to rage, a scream leaving your lips as you charged at the larger man. He grabbed you with ease pushing you against a wall and hitting you in the chest. You went to move your hand to stab him in the stomach but he grabbed your arm before you could get a good angle. He hit your hand against the wall causing you to release your weapon. You bit into your lip to the point that it drew blood. You had been backed into a corner and you hated the feeling. 

“Not so tough now hum?”

You spit onto the man's face watching anger appear on his face.

“You little bitch.”

His hands wound around your throat cutting off your ability to breath. YOu kicked at his legs trying to get him off you. Frank struggled against his chains as he tried to get to you.

“Hey! Let her go, she's got nothing to do with this!”

“Ah you like this one do you Frank?”

“Just let her go and I'll tell you what you want.”

“She killed my men. No way I'm letting her live.”

Your face was starting to turn red due to the lack of air but you kept fighting against the man's grip. You placed your hands against his stomach trying to push him off. Your hand skimmed at the handle of the knife near his hip, fingers trying to grab it while you could. You looked at Frank trying to tell him your plan without speaking. He got the message giving you a nod as he started talking, just spewing random shit out of his mouth to distract your attacker. When Frank mentioned the man's family his hands slacked ever so slightly allowing you to get a grip on his weapon. Before he could even notice what had happened you stabbed him in the stomach. He turned to look at you, his face contorting in pain as he stumbled away from you. You fell to the ground gasping for air. You couldn’t hear anything anymore except for the dull thud of your heartbeat. You rose from the ground charging at the man once more. Since he was hurt you managed to knock him down much easier then last time. YOu straddled his hips, filling your eyes as you stared down at the man. YOu raised your hand and stabbed him in the neck. You repeated the action over and over again, a scream leaving your throat with every stab. You knew he was dead. Could see the lack of life in his eyes but you couldn't stop yourself from plunging your blade into his body. Frank called out your name causing you to look at him. He took in your appearance. You were covered in blood. Your hair had turned red due to the amount that covered you. When he looked at your eyes he wasn't greeted by their usual warmth. You were looking at him like a rabid animal, your hands latched onto your weapon for dear life.

“It’s over. He’s dead.”

You glanced at the man beneath you before turning to look back at Frank. When your eyes fell on Frank's face they softened a bit. You rose from where you were making your way to Frank. He watched you come to him, his body relaxing once he realized you’d weren’t looking at him like he was a piece of meat anymore. You kneeled in front of him picking the locks on his chain before looking up at him. You placed a hand on his face. Frank watched you look up at him with your eyes full of love before falling onto the blood on your hand. Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself seeing the damage you’d caused for the first time. You moved your hand away from Frank trying to scrub the blood of your palms despair gracing your features as you failed to remove the red tint. Frank could tell you were starting to panic. You weren’t used to this much killing, especially not by yourself.

“Hey it’s okay. Look at me. 

You looked at Frank with lost eyes. It seemed like you’d just woken up from a daze. Frank got up from his chair pulling you off the ground before wrapping you in his embrace.

“Shhh it’s alright. It’s over. Let's go home.” 

You stumbled into your apartment removing your boots before making your way to the bathroom. Frank followed behind grabbing a towel on the way. You sat on top of the toilet  as Frank turned on the water to fill up the tub. You stripped your clothes, throwing them in a plastic bag before sinking into the warm water. Frank kneeled down soaking a sponge in the water and beginning to clean you up. You let him do what he needed sitting still as he washed the blood off your body. Perhaps it should have been weird, this was the first time he was seeing you naked yet for some reason this felt normal. 

“How’s your arm?”

“It will heal.”

“It was almost healed already.”

Frank heard the anger in your tone. He looked up at your face, finding you staring at his bare shoulder. There was a twinge of guilt in your expression. 

“Hey. This is not your fault.”

“I should have been quicker. Should have broken the window and just jumped in. Dragged you outside.”

“Would have called too much attention.”

“Right cause killing all of them won’t.”

“They were drug dealers and gangsters. No one will care, trust me I know.”

You closed your eyes, sighing  as Frank moved the sponge against your back. He watched as your shoulders sagged, finally calming down. You’d gone bat shit back there because they had hurt him. Frank didn’t have a lot of people who would risk themselves like that for him. He appreciated it.

“You’re gonna need to turn on the shower to wash your hair. There is too much blood.”

Frank got up to leave but you grabbed his wrist. He turned to look down at you. 

“You need a shower too.”

“Once you’re done I'll clean up.”

“We could share.”

Frank's breath hitched at the sound of your voice.

“You sure you’d be comfortable with that?”

You let out a laugh.

“Ever the gentleman Frank.”

You rose out of the water crossing your arms in front of your bare chest. Frank's eyes never left your face but he wouldn’t lie that he was tempted.

“I’m covered in the blood of people I killed for you. Pretty sure I can handle seeing you naked.”

You grinned at Frank's shocked expression. You always did like making him flustered. Frank mulled it over in his head for a moment before beginning to remove his clothes. His arm burned as he tried to remove his shirt.

“Here let me help.”

You stepped out of the tub moving closer to Frank so that you could reach the edge of his shirt.

“Raise your arms.”

Frank did what you asked, allowing you to remove his bloodied shirt from his body. A small gasp left your lips when your eyes fell onto the new wound fingers moving over it softly.

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches but we might have to bandage you up.”

“Okay.”

“Need help with your pants too?”

“Nah i got them. You can turn on the water.”

You nodded, turning around to face the shower. The shower head sprang to life in a matter of seconds. You put out your hand to see if the temperature was good.

“I think it's warm eno-”

The words died on your lips as you looked at Frank's naked frame. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen him without his shirt before and the way he was built didn’t leave much to the imagination but good lord he was big. Frank flushed under your gaze, his eyes running over your body as you stared at him.

“Like what you see?”

Your eyes snapped up to Frank's face, a blush growing in your cheeks once you realized he saw you checking him out. 

“I know I do.”

Ah fuck, why did he have to sound like that? Mustering all of your self restraint you moved into the shower glancing as Frank as you threw your head back under the water. 

“You gonna stare or you gonna join me?”

Frank let out a grin moving to get into the shower. Once he was inside he pulled the curtain close, blocking out the outside world. The two of you stared at each other for a while trying to figure out how to go about this. You made the first move, pulling Frank's hand with your and placing it on your hip.

“You’re too far away. The water is not even getting on you.”

“That’s why you want me closer? So the water gets to me?”

There was a playful tone in Frank's voice causing you to relax a bit.

“It doesn't make kissing you much easier either.”

“Oh well if you wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.”

Frank leaned down, closing the distance between your lips. It started off soft. The two of you explored the feeling of each other's lips but soon things got more intense. You bite into Frank's lips making him groan against your lips, his hands pulling you closer to him. Your breasts came in contact with his chest, nipples running against his skin and making you whimper against him. Frank loved the sounds coming out of you. It’d been a while since he’d had sex. He’d forgotten how good it was to hear the sound of someone's pleasure. You pulled away from Frank, ignoring him pout as you turned around. You pushed your ass up against Frank's dick listening to him groan as you rubbed yourself against him. His hands made their way to your hips guiding your movements.

“Shit. There you go, attagirl.”

You pushed your hands off the wall, your back making contact with Frank's chest as you pulled his hands away from your hip and guided them to cup your breast. He leaned down to kiss your neck, his fingers playing with your nipples as he rutted against you. You moaned at the feeling of his hard dick on your ass.

“I need you Frank, please.”

“Are you sure you're wet enough?”

You almost laughed at the question. You knew he meant if your pussy was wet anough but considering he was about to fuck you in the shower it was a funny thing to ask.

“Let me show you.”

You dragged one of his hands to your folds, allowing him to feel how wet you were. He let out a growl as he pushed a digit into your cunt.

“Dirty girl.”

“This is the cleanest I've been all afternoon, Frank.”

He laughed at your words moving to grab your chin.

“You and that mouth of yours.”

“I bet you love my mouth.”

“Oh I do.”

“You imagine it much? Me going down on you, I mean.”

The truth is that he did. Whenever he couldn’t sleep at night and the books didn’t help he’d close his eyes and think of you. It started off innocently: the sound of your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you were angry with him, the sound of your voice when you called his name. But soon those images turned into you on your knees before him gaging as you tried to take all of him in your mouth. Whenever the two of you slept near each other he feared he’d have a wet dream about you and ruin everything.

“I do.”

Frank had been so focused on remembering that he’d forgotten to answer you. You didn’t mind though your head leaned back on his chest as you talked.

“Evrytime you come back from a mission I get turned on. I don’t know what it is but something about the way you walk in. Chest puffed out hands bundled into fists. Something about this glow you get after a mission. It makes you, like, ten times hotter than average. Which is saying a lot because you're pretty damn hot.”

Frank placed another finger inside your cunt moving them in and out slowly. You gasped, mouth falling open at the feeling.

“What do I do? When you imagen me.”

“Ah-shit-uh loads of stuff. Sometimes you finger me until I can't talk. Or you’ll go down on me for hours. My favorites when you fuck me though. I imagen you let out the prettiest fucking sounds.”

“Ah fuck baby. Why’s that?”

“You moan when you’re in pain. I bet the sounds you make when you feel good are just as loud.”

“You wanna find out?”

“Please Frank. I’m ready, fill me up.”

Frank flipped you around, backing you up against the wall before pulling your leg to the side. He hesitated for a moment worried that he’d hurt you. You were smaller than him by a bit and from this angle you look smaller than normal.

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank met your gaze. You pulled him in for a kiss resting your forehead against his.

“You’d never hurt me. I trust you Frank. Go ahead.”

“If you need me to stop or slow down you tell me okay?”

“Okay.”

Frank groaned as he pushed his head into your cunt. You threw your head back, hands latching onto Frank's shoulders as he pushed in. Frank groaned against you taking deep breaths as he felt your pussy clench around him.

“You keep doing that, I'll cum.”

“Isn't that-ugh-the point.”

“I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Don’t worry we have time for another round if we need it.”

The idea of this becoming a regular occurrence did something to Frank's head. He plunged the rest of his dick into you, his hands keeping you still as you moaned in ecstasy.

“Tell me when to move.”

“Move Frank! For the love of god move.”

Frank started thrusting into you with a force you’d only seen him use when he was in a fight. Your nails dug into Frank's skin so harshly you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. You were right about Frank being vocal. He was groaning and whimpering against your neck as he thrusted against you which only made you wetter.

“Frank, I'm gonna cum.”

“Just a bit more, hold it a little okay? Think you can do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Attagirl.”

Frank's speed got faster, his hand releasing your hip as he made his way to your pussy, his finger finding your clit as he continued his movements.

“Come on baby come on.”

“Ah shit-ugh.”

“Let go baby let go.”

Frank gave a particularly rough thrust and you were seeing stars. You screamed out Frank's name as you came your head leaning against his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“Attagirl.”

YOu could tell Frank was close by the way his dick twitched inside you. You placed your hand against his cheek placing a kiss on his lips.

“Fill me up Frank come on. Fill me up with your cum.”

“You on the-”

“No, want you to fill me up. Want you to breed me.”

It was a shot in the dark. You weren’t sure if this would kill the mood or not. Franks family was an odd topic but something told you that he liked the idea of fucking his cum into someone until it took. You were glad you took the risk because right as you uttered the words Frank started cumming. As you felt his cum going down your thighs you felt kind of bad for lying to him about not being on the pill. You knew he’d understand though. The life you lead had no space for children. Frank knew that well.

Frank pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden lack of his presence inside you. He leaned down pulling your chin up so he could kiss you. His hands weaved inside your hair making him remember why you’d gotten into the shower in the first place.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

You again?!

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v, oral sex, fingering, self-indulgent filth.

A/N: This is set when they go back to get the rest of the money. It's something about Benny I cannot stop writing for this man.

Summary: You keep running into the guy you had sex with in an airport bathroom.

Word Count: 4k

Of all the trips you’ve taken it has been with a friend group or family, this would be the first time you venture off on your own. You always wanted to visit Colombia. The forests were so beautiful and you heard the nightlife wasn’t so bad either. 

Making your way through the airport without anyone else to help guide you was nerve wracking but once you calmed down you realized you could ask any of the employees. Even though you were traveling to one of the hottest countries, you still opted to wear leggings and a hoodie. 

You realized soon enough that maybe you had left a little too early since the lines for TSA were quick. Sitting at your terminal with at least 2 hours until you board and nothing to do you grab your backpack and look around. Upon looking at the sign that shows where which terminals are you see they have a bar not too far away. 

You grab a seat up at the bar and place your bag behind you, looking around you see a few other lone travelers and one group of men. Once you put in your order with the bartender you feel someone sit next to you, despite the various empty seats farther away. You sneak a glance at him through the mirror only to find him staring at you already. You grimace as you turn and hide your face in your hair. He was one of the guys from that group. 

When the bartender places your long island iced in front of you, quickly grab it. The stranger says something but you weren’t paying attention so you ask him to repeat it. 

“I asked if you know there’s no iced tea in that. It’s only like tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, vodka, and coke.” His southern drawl makes up for his awkward icebreaker.

“Good I hate iced tea.” You tell him with a scrunch in your face.

You see the fake mortification on his face after you insult the most beloved drink of the south. He even puts his hands on his heart like you gave him a heart attack. “Not from the south then?”

“No I am, I just hate that drink with a passion.” You fully turn your head to look at him, liking what you see. He has sandy blonde hair that’s covered by an army green hat. His eyes were like an ocean blue that you could stare at all day, he even had that dangerous southern charm. His skin even has a slight tan that makes his eyes pop even more. 

“I’m Benny,” he gives you a once over while waiting for you to tell him your name. You wonder if he likes what he sees.

After telling him your name you feel warmth spread through your body from the drink you’ve been nursing. You move to take off your hoodie, leaving you in a tank top. You remember your decision to forgo a bra when you catch Benny’s eyes drifting to your chest. Once he’s done with his assessment, his eyes travel back to you realizing he’s been caught.

You watch his face redden before he addresses it. “I’m… It’s not-”

Your giggle cuts off his nervous rant. “It’s ok. I don’t mind Benny,” you maintain eye contact with him while finishing your drink. You go to get the bartender’s attention before Benny interjects.

“You want another one? Let me take care of it.” Before you could even pretend to object he’s already ordered for you. When he turns back towards you there’s barely any space between you two, causing you to wonder when you two got so close. Not that you’re complaining.

With the alcohol loosening you up you place a hand on his shoulder before bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. “What do you want Benny?” 

You see from the way his back constricts that his breath quickens from your seemingly innocent question. “That depends entirely on you darling.” You face him again as you feel his hand on your thigh, inching its way higher. His hand taking up so much space makes you clench around nothing. There’s a temporary pause when the bartender sets your second drink down. 

You sip on it, eyeing Benny. “Men’s or Women’s restroom?”

He smirks at you before placing his mouth at your ear to whisper, “Family restroom, amatuer.”

You feel an involuntary shiver go down your spine. Placing the half empty drink on the counter you take Benny’s offered hand as he helps you off the stool. While you grab your bag Benny pays the tab before taking your hand in his, easily swallowing it.

You two walk through the airport under the guise of being a couple when really the both of you are like horny teenagers. Upon finding the family restroom you both check the coast before going in, Benny obviously letting you go first. After finding a hook to hang your bag you feel him behind you. His mouth ghosts over your neck, hands finding their way to your hips, and his hard length pulsing on your ass. 

He turns you around only to capture your lips in a messy kiss. You taste the whiskey he was drinking on his lips making you want more. With your hands flat on his chest you snake your tongue into his mouth, making him grip your hips harder and bringing your body closer to his. His thigh sat right in between your legs, allowing you to rock your hips against him. The soft fabric of your leggings coupled with his rough denim catching your clit had you reeling from pleasure. 

Soon enough you're moaning into Benny’s mouth, wetness pooling in your underwear. If you were thinking clearly you’d worry about it leaking onto your leggings. Benny’s hands stall your hips from grinding into his thigh further, causing a childish whine to leave your mouth. He won't leave you wanting for long when his hand dips into your underwear. He takes his time rubbing his fingers over your entrance, wetting them before slowly circling your clit. It’s sweet torture.

“All this for me?” Benny looks at you for an answer as if he didn’t already know. Still you oblige him by nodding your head and gazing in his eyes. You must have done something right because he finally takes two fingers and plunges them into your entrance. You cry out begging him for more, and he begins pumping them in and out of you while watching your hips rock into his fingers. He gently curls them inside you looking for that spongy spot, with a sharp jerk of your hips he knows he’s got it. 

He takes your mouth again but this time he’s holding your jaw. You tilt your head to give your tongue more room. As Benny keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot you continuously moan into his mouth. A knot tightens in your lower stomach, getting tighter and tighter until you feel yourself clench down on his fingers. Your mouth opens in a silent cry and your hand digs into Benny’s biceps.

“That’s it cum all over my fingers baby.” Your head slumps against his chest while you regain enough strength to hold yourself up. You feel Benny remove his hands from your panties and you look up to find him sucking on them. Removing one hand from his bicep you move it down his body, cupping his prominent bulge. You hear his low groan while he rocks his hips into your hand. 

“Shit baby turn around.” As you follow his instructions you hear him unbuckle his pants and his zipper. You sneak a peek behind you only to see him stroking the thickest cock you’ve ever seen. His hand barely wraps around it fully. You pull down your leggings and panties, the latter almost sticking to you. Benny grabs your ass cheeks and spreads them wanting a full look at you.

Once he’s satisfied you feel him nudging your entrance, teasing you. Not being able to handle it you push back on him making him grab your hips. You feel a palm come down on your right cheek before he mumbles about you needing to be patient. The contact makes you jolt in excitement. Benny finally puts you out of your misery when he slowly rocks into you, wanting you to become comfortable with the stretch. 

Even though it’s a tight fit you love how you could feel him no matter how much or how little he moved. When he feels how you’re clenching around him he knows you’re ready. He places one hand on your shoulder and the other digging into your hip while he angles his hip into you. Feeling him fill you up fully causes your fists to ball up against the wall, your breathing turns into quick pants. 

Benny gets lost in the lust filled haze your cunt is giving him, the way you wrap around him is intoxicating. He hasn’t felt this way since he was a teenager, his ball clenching up letting him know that he’s close. He surprises you by sliding his hand down to circle your clit while he fucks into you deeply. 

The tension in your lower stomach builds quickly, the feeling bordering on overstimulation. It all comes to a head with a particular rough thrust that has you gushing all over Benny. The way you clench down on him has him cumming and putting his hand on the wall for support, right next to yours. The air in his lungs feels suspended as he basks in the afterglow of sex.

“I would beg for round two but my flight leaves soon.” Benny breathes out next to the shell of your ear. He pulls out of you leaving an empty feeling and a cold breeze. 

“Mine too.” You rasp before reaching in your bag to grab baby wipes to clean yourself up. You offer one to Benny after you’ve pulled up your pants, he thanks you with a forehead kiss. Heat fills your face and you turn to make sure you have all your things. 

The both of you bid each other a goodbye kiss outside the bathroom, you think that maybe you should’ve got his number. After separating you decide to buy some food to bring on the plane since you were starving. By the time you make it back to your terminal they’re boarding but your group hasn’t been called yet. 

By the time you make it on the plane you carefully search for your seat number. Once you find it you're stunned to find Benny is in the window seat next to you. The man in the aisle seat looks up at you with a smirk, you recognize him as one of the guys that was sitting at the table with Benny. His salt and pepper curls really emphasize his beauty, but that means nothing with that stupid shit-eating grin on his face. 

Benny is occupied with his face looking out of the window like a puppy dog so you slip in to get to your seat, hoping he won’t recognize you. The asshole next to you giggles at your misfortune, you glare at him causing him to turn in his seat. Still laughing. 

The jig is up when Benny’s thick thighs spread and nudge your leg, he whips his head down to apologize only to find you. While you stare straight ahead with your lips tucked into your mouth Benny looks at you in disbelief. He nudges you with his shoulder and gives you a panty dropping smile that has your thighs clenching. 

“You know I was really regretting not getting your number, I thought you might think I was a slut or something.” You laugh at his omission and the awkwardness that was previous there dissipates as you two look at each other. 

You begin eating your food and offer to share with Benny since you don’t finish it all. He inhales all of it and licks his fingers, flashbacks to him sucking his fingers after he made you cum have you staring heatedly at him. When you finally do meet his gaze he looks at you with understanding.

“About that round two,” you let your sentence trail off knowing he’ll catch on. 

“We haven’t even taken off yet baby,” his lips barely touched the shell of your ear. “But when the seatbelt sign goes off make sure you're ready.” He puts his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth. 

You and Benny spend the first hour learning more about each other, everything from your favorite colors to the reason why you’re going to Colombia. The seatbelt sign had turned off 30 minutes ago but neither of you paid any mind. Anyone who didn’t know you would think the both of you were dating, between the intimate touches and the hushed whispers. Neither of you were complaining, it seems you both wanted to bask in the made up reality.

When the flight attendants come down the aisle with their drink carts, you are relieved since you’ve been craving a sprite. The guy in the aisle seat who you’ve come to find out is named Santiago puts in his order first, you go to put in yours when she turns back only to have her ignore you in favor of Benny. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and asked what you want since he’s not that thirsty. She hands him the sprite you wanted and he passes it to you while the biscuits are passed down. Before she leaves she makes sure to ask if that's all he needs, you keep your head down while sipping your sprite unsure of what to do. Benny tells her he’s all set before setting his sights back on you, and that hand rubs the inside of your thigh again. 

You finish your sprite in record time while waiting for the attendants to come collect the trash. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get up to head to the bathroom without waiting for a response. You’re only in the bathroom only a few seconds before you hear a playful knock on the door, you stare at Benny in disbelief.

“You couldn’t wait a little longer? Now everyone’s gonna know.” You scold him before pulling him into the tight space. 

“You realize there’s two restrooms back here right,” you roll your eyes at his response but smile when he pulls you closer by your waist. “Besides, I wanted to get you alone in the bathroom again.” He nudges his nose in your neck 

“That's not the point Benny,” still focusing on him basically trailing after you. 

“I can’t even bend you over in here.” He sighs into your neck as his lips leave tender kisses.

“You won’t need to.” Before he can question what you mean you’re already on your knees in front of him. Your hands running up and down his thighs before cupping his growing bulge. When you lock eyes with him it’s easy to see the effect you have on him. 

Your hands have a mind of their own unbuckling his belt and zipper letting it fall to his ankles, leaving him in his boxers. Maintaining eye contact you press a kiss to his clothed cock, you feel it jolt underneath your lips. Benny’s hands grip the sink hard enough to turn his knuckles white, you haven’t even put him in your mouth yet.

Finally you pull his boxers down and his cock springs out, staring you right in the face. You lick a stripe from his balls all the way to his leaky pink tip. You taste the saltiness of pre-cum and suck his tip into your mouth. Benny takes a sharp inhale as you swirl your tongue around and under his tip. Slowly working your way down his thick shaft you bring your hand up to play with his heavy balls. Benny’s hips jerk at the sensation making you take more of him in your mouth. With you bobbing your head up and down on his length he can’t help the moan that slips out of his mouth. Just hearing him lose control like that makes you moan while bobbing your head faster. 

Benny is entranced by the way your warm mouth wraps around him, your saliva making you glide all over him. His chest heaves feeling like there was limited air, or maybe you were just sucking it out of him. Literally. He balls one fist and bites it to keep from exposing you two while the other snakes its way onto the back of your head. 

“Shit baby I’m close,” he warns you thinking you’ll want him to finish elsewhere. But it seems to have the opposite effect, now you were hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. Benny can’t control the way his hips jerk towards your mouth, wanting everything you can give him.

He twitches in your mouth and you know it’s only a matter of time. As you wrap both arms around the back of his thighs taking him deeper, you nuzzle your nose in his light brown pubic hair. At the same time Benny lets out a loud groan, you feel his warm cum shoot into your throat. You stay there hollowing your cheek until Benny has to pull you off himself. He helps you get onto your feet before he pulls you into a messy kiss. His hands are in your hair breathing you into him like you’re oxygen. 

When he pulls away you feel a bit dizzy but give him a lazy grin. You turn to walk out of the bathroom but Benny snakes an arm around your front preventing you from leaving. “Uh uh I wanna smell you on my face later.” 

Which is exactly how you found yourself on the cramped sink with one ass cheek in and Benny’s face in between your thighs. Your discomfort was overpowered by his tongue flicking your g-spot over and over. His nose even brushed up against your clit in a way that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were sure if anybody was outside the door they would hear your indiscretions, but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Benny was groaning into your pussy like he was feeling the same things you were. 

The vibrations of him groaning sent you into your orgasm at lightning speed, stomach clenched and eyebrow scrunched from the tightness in your body. You bite the sleeve of your hoodie to keep from screaming and really disrupting the plane. Benny continues his ministrations like you didn’t just cream all over his face it’s like deja vu except this time you're pulling him off of you. Looking down at his face you see it glisten in the shitty bathroom lighting, all because of you.

Benny stands at his full height and ushers you off the barely there counter. While wiping down you catch a glimpse of the indent from the sink on one ass cheek, Benny notices you staring and laughs when he sees. 

“It’s not funny Benny.” Even though you try to school your features you laugh too. You check yourself in the mirror one last time, making sure you’re semi-decent. Once you approve you turn around to open the door and step out, except the flight attendant that was interested in Benny is staring back at you. Your eyes widen and you realize you're blocking the door when Benny’s hand comes down to smack your ass, and grab it. 

“Don’t tell me you want me again? Jesus woman you’re insatiable.” As Benny finally steps out he smirks down at you before seeing why you were blocking the door. Not knowing what to do you hot tail it back to your seat, that asshole Santiago smirking at you. 

By the time you’re strapped in Benny makes his way into the row thanking you for leaving him high and dry. All you can do is smile and give him a nonchalant sorry. He ignores you and pulls up the divider between you two before pulling you into him. You didn't even know how tired you were until resting your head under his shoulder.

………..

By the time you and Benny woke up the pilots were pulling into the gate. He and his friends walked with you to baggage claim but it was mostly Benny at your side. He insisted on getting your bag for you and making sure you got a cab. 

You didn’t argue. After pointing out your bag he carries it while the guys wait for theirs. Benny looks at you without saying anything, your mind races at what could be going through his head. But it comes to a halt when he asks, "Do you think I could get your number?"

“What you wanna meet up again while we’re here?” You joke before pulling out your phone to exchange numbers.

“No- well yes but I want to take you out when we get back to the states.” He admits sheepishly.

“If you would like to go out with me.”

You give him the goofiest smile before responding, “Yeah I’d like that.” with the two of you grinning like idiots Santiago, Frankie, and even Will look away at the nauseatingly cute display you guys got going on. They’ll get on him later.

Before Benny sends you off in a taxi he leans down close to your ear. “You’re gonna let me know when you reach your hotel right baby?” His low voice makes you want to drag him in the car with you. 

“Yes Benny.” You playfully roll your eyes and he grabs under your chin to give you one more kiss. Once he’s satisfied he opens the door for you to get in, but not without slapping your ass one last time. He even gave the driver money for the fare and before you could protest he closed the door waving you off. 

……….

On the way to the airport you think of all the fun you had on this trip, you even have a hot date waiting when you get back. Making your way through TSA you feel a bit sad to leave but you had a great time. You even scored some cute trinkets you can give to your friends. This was a great trip however you gotta thank Benny for starting it off so well.

Benny and the guys got the rest of the money without a hitch, now able to live their lives somewhat stress-free. Frankie and Will were especially happy to be able to do their own thing. As Benny boards the plane he thinks about how excited he is for the date you guys have set up, he had to stop talking about it since the guys got tired of listening. Doesn’t mean it didn’t run through his mind 24/7, or you for that matter.

Once he finds his seat number he does a double take, you’re already sitting down in the middle seat. He’s never moved so fast in his life to take the aisle seat, you almost get whiplash from seeing Benny next to you. Again. Santiago sees the two of you sitting together again and immediately wants to get another flight. It was funny the first time but he knows this time will be worse.

“Fuck no, one of you is switching with me this time.” He turns to look at Frankie and Will who look around as if they didn’t hear him, so he takes one of their seats in the row behind you and Benny. 

Will is ultimately the one stuck with you two this time. On the bright side, neither of you needs a ‘bathroom break’, but the nonstop talking and cuddling have him ordering headphones and an eye mask from the flight attendant. 

[softiecaro]

GORGEOUS — MICK SCHUMACHER

summary: Inez think that Mick was too gorgeous to be real and every time she looked at him she felt like was going to die. Mick wondered why she always ignored him.

pairing: Mick Schumacher x Inez (reporter!reader)

words: 4K

warning: Some swear words, a lot of angst. Also, English is not my native language, so any spelling or writing error is the fault of the translator hehe.

notes: The lyrics of the song are in italics, and these are not in the same order of the song, so i put excerpts that may have some connection with the situations that I am narrating.

MASTERLIST TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS SERIES

Inez Santana is a journalist by profession, who started out uploading videos to tiktok about motorsports and making podcasts about it. Thanks to the success that she had on this podcast, she was given the opportunity to start working for Formula 2 years ago. Despite not having been around for as long as some of her colleagues, she is well liked by the people in the teams and the paddock in general, even by the fans. 

She formed a strong friendship with Esteban Ocon when she signed a short contract for a few months to do some communications work for the Alpine team. When that contract ended, they continued to hang out constantly, even spending a few vacations together. 

She is known for her sweetness and kindness with everyone, for how she talks to people and puts all her attention on them as if they were the only thing that mattered, she made them feel loved. Of course, this happened with everyone except the 23-year-old German driver, Mick Schumacher. 

It's not because she hates him. Quite the contrary. She thinks he is too gorgeous and his presence makes her so nervous that she prefers to ignore him. Every time she can get away from being in the same room with him, she does. Of course, she can't escape her obligations at work and the interviews that she sometimes has to do with Mick after a career. 

Inez, Esteban and Lance were walking through the paddock one morning as they greeted everyone along the way. They were laughing at something the French one said, and by mistake, the girl dropped her coffee cup on the floor right in front of the Haas team space, which luckily was not full. 

They laughed even louder, which caught Mick's attention, who came out to see what was going on. 

—Damn Esteban, look what you made me do.—She joked, still laughing as she stood looking at the mess she made.

—Hey, don't blame me. 

—Hey guys, what happened here?— Mick approached them with an amused smile on his lips. They greeted each other with the typical fist salute that men give each other.

 Her smile automatically disappeared when she heard his voice. Posture uncomfortably straight, lips set in a line, she looked everywhere but at him, except at his ocean blue eyes. If she looked at them, she felt that it would be the end of him. 

—Just Inez being Inez.— Lance says humorously, putting his arm around her shoulders. 

—Are you okay?— Mick asks. She looks at the floor, looks at Esteban and then looks over Mick's shoulder at something, continuing his work of avoiding his eyes. 

—Yes.— She simply says. 

—If you want I can bring you a new coffee.—The blond tells her as he points to Hass's space.— You know, free coffee. 

—No thanks, I have to go.

“You're so gorgeous. I can't say anything to your face 'cause look at your face. And I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way. But what can I say? You're gorgeous”. 

Have you read those cliché stories where the main character gets locked with her love interest in an elevator for a period of time, they kiss, then someone pulls them out of the elevator and they walk out completely in love? That was what happened to Inez, except for the kissing part of it, of course. 

The cars that take the communications people from the hotel to the paddock left at 7:30 a.m. It was 5 minutes before the time limit and Inez was on the 20th floor waiting for the elevator which was taking too long. 

—Come on, please, quickly.— she whispered anxiously as she saw that the elevator was finally approaching her floor.

When the gates opened, Inez couldn't believe how much bad luck she had (or good luck?). Mick was inside in his blue Haas team uniform, who also hadn't noticed the girl's presence since he was too busy texting. 

She quickly entered and went to press the button for the first floor, but seeing that it was already selected, she left her hand in the air. 

Inez looked at the boy out of the corner of her eye, still typing on his phone with a visibly frown. Inez wanted to say hello, but nothing came out of her mouth. So she just looked at a fixed point of the elevator as she held her breath hoping to arrive at her destination soon. 

She suddenly felt the lights on the buttons start to flicker and she approached it curiously. Then, the main light that illuminates there began to blink. She turned around, facing Mick on the opposite side of the elevator, but he still didn't notice anything. 

Silence. 

—Mick?— A whisper of hers barely left her. The blond raised his head automatically and looked at her with those ocean blue eyes just a millisecond before the place went completely dark. 

Neither of them said anything, analyzing the situation. 

—Inez?

—I'm here, Mick.— She answered fearfully as she hugged herself. 

The next thing that happened was the elevator made a loud noise that caused Inez to gasp in surprise. She suddenly felt a pair of icy hands touch her face in delicate touches, to which she cringed.

—Here you are.—Now he was touching her shoulders as if looking for something specific, then went down her arms slowly until he reached her hands. His touches were so delicate, as if she was going to break. He gave her chills. 

—Hey, are you okay?—She gave a little startled cry at his touch and her closeness, a sound that Mick took as a sort of nod to his question. His hands felt so soft and perfect on her.

“And you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room."

—Let me call someone on the team.— So he unlocked his phone and the light from it lit up his face. 

—Don't be scared, I can feel your heart beating so fast. Try to calm down, we'll be fine.—Now he had pulled his hands away from her and stood beside her, feeling his left side against her right side.

—It can't be, I don't have a signal. 

—What?—She exclaimed, turning in his direction.

—I was joking, sorry. I've always seen that happen in the movies.— He laughed a little as he dialed a number. 

Inez started to reply but before she could think of anything to say to him, Mick spoke again. 

—Kevin? Hi, you're not going to believe this but I'm stuck in the hotel elevator.

She stirred in her place and suddenly remembered the car that was supposed to take her. She took her phone and looked at the time. It marked 7:45. The car had already left without her. 

—No, I'm not alone, I'm with Inez. Yes, Esteban's best friend.— She felt Mick say the last thing with a different tone that caught her attention.— Uh-huh, yes. OK thank you. See you mate. 

Inez sends a message to her boss explaining the situation and saying that she will unfortunately be late, hoping that he will believe that she got stuck in the elevator, although it sounds a bit false.

Maybe Esteban hasn't left yet and she can go with him to the paddock in his car, so to make sure, she texted him too to ask if he's already gone. 

—Hey, don't worry, it won't take long for them to come for us.— Mick told her softly when he saw the girl's worried face. 

—It's not that.— She locks her phone so the place is bathed in darkness again. 

—What happen? 

—Nothing.— As soon as her word left her mouth, and in an unkind tone, she regretted it. 

Silence again. 

The closeness of his to her sides disappeared as he moved away from her. 

—Why do you hate me?

Inez's heart sank. He thought she hated him? Silence again. She didn't know what to say. 

—Mick, I don't hate you. 

—Then why are you always like this with me?

—What do you mean? 

—Whenever I'm getting close, you run away. Plus you never look me in the eye. You're always ignoring me and... 

Suddenly a voice from the elevator speaker startled them both. 

—Guys, we're about to get you out. The elevator will make a small jerky movement. Don't be scared, it's part of the process. 

Only a couple of minutes later, in which neither of them had said anything else, the elevator doors were being forced open and two big men could be seen through the small space on the other side. Behind them, some familiar faces of some people from the teams, including Lance and Esteban, who were laughing. 

—You first.— Mick told her. So Inez quickly made her way out of the small space with help from the men. Then Mick came out. 

—I can't believe you got locked in an elevator.— Lance was still laughing at the situation. 

—How long were you in there?

—Like 30 minutes.— Mick replied. 

—30 minutes?! And what did you do during all that time? 

—Nothing dude. I have to go, see you.— Mick smiled at the three without showing his teeth and left. 

—Inez?— Esteban spoke to the girl after seeing her in a kind of trance.— Are you okay?

—Yes, I'm perfect. Why?

—You're red as a tomato, are you sure nothing happened in there? You know you can trust us, come on. 

—I swear to you. Now come on please, my boss is going to kill me. 

…………………………..

On a Saturday after a race, Inez is preparing for the press round with the drivers. She had already interviewed Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and now she was with Esteban. 

—And moving on to the next race, what do you think about Hungary? 

—Yeah, I can't wait. Great memories of course from last year. So hopefully we can fight in full force.— He simply answered.

—That's all Esteban, thanks. See you.— They finally say good-bye, but as the French boy was walking away, he whispered something to Inez that didn't help her for what lay ahead of her.

—Mick is next.— Followed by a wink. 

Just hearing his name made her stomach turn. She then saw him slip from the previous reporter until they were face to face. He gave her a toothless smile and her blue eyes met his. 

"Ocean blue eyes looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die."

She was silent for a few seconds until she reacted when noticed the expectation on the face of Mick and his communications assistant. 

—M-mick, we saw that the race had some problems, sorry about that. Because in some way, you were unfortunately a victim of the crash between Lance Stroll and Fernando Alonso. How much was your race compromise by accident damage?

“Did I say everything too quickly? Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something in my teeth? After the rain of thoughts that attacked her, she felt the blood begin to pool on her cheeks, and felt the temperature rise even more when she watched as Mick lapped her lips with his tongue. 

—Yeah, there was quite a bit of unfortunate damage that affected some specific areas of the car.— As he began to speak, he leaned slowly between the grid that separated them and Inez tried to appear as if that movement didn't affect her. As if having him so close to her didn't make her heart burst.— Obviously it was something that got out of hand but I think that, looking on the positive side, at least we were in a good position to give the team points. 

—And speaking of the performance of the vehicles, what do you think are their strengths and weaknesses and do you think they will be able to continue on a good path with this one?

—Yeah, I mean I don't see any reason why it shouldn't. I think our car. And we are aware that there is a constant battle with teams like Alpha Tauri, Aston Martin and Alfa Romeo. So all we care about is finishing the races and collecting as many points as possible in the coming weekends after the holidays.— He finishes with a smile. 

—Thanks for your time Mick, rest and have a nice vacation. 

—Thanks Inez, see you around. Goodbye.— Giving her one last look and a characteristic German smile, he walked off in the direction of the next reporter. 

Inez. Inez. Inez. Inez. Inez. Inez. Why did his name sound so nice when it came from his lips?

 ……………………………………. 

That same night someone organized a party because after this race there would be a short vacation before returning to the tracks. It would be a lie to say that Inez hated parties, because she didn't. But she really wasn't a big fan of crowds, so this was what always discouraged her from going. Both Esteban and Lance tried to convince her to go but they couldn't. 

She preferred to stay in her hotel room watching some romantic comedy movie on netflix. She changed into comfortable clothes, made herself some hot tea, and lay back in the comfort of her bed. 

Before the movie started, she took a picture for her Instagram stories and then put her phone aside and played the movie. The sound of the notifications caught her attention so checking the phone she saw responses from some fans, from Lance, from some people she knew from the paddock, but what mattered most to her was Mick. 

“Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats, alone. Unless you wanna come along." 

@mickschumacher won't you come to the party? 

@inez.santana nope :( 

Immediately the three dots appeared in the chat indicating that Mick was typing, only to disappear later. She then blocks her phone but was left waiting for her reply message. The ring rings again, she picks up the phone, but it wasn't Mick. 

@landonorris GURLLLLL are you really going to lay down and not come to the party? 

@inez.santada BOYYYY, yes

@landonorris sent an audio note “Come on Inez, how dare you miss out on the best party of your life? DJ Lando will liven up the place. I'm still at the hotel, so I'm not going to let you stay here alone with yourself. Tell me your room number and I'll pick you up in 20 minutes, see you muac” 

Inez was left thinking. Maybe she should just give him on seen and he´d never find her room, but he probably ask Esteban and Lando would come banging on her door until she came out. 

@inez.santana 621 floor 10. 

She quickly got up from her bed leaving her computer on the desk along with her tea. “I'll come back for you” she thought looking at her drink. Then, in record time, she dressed in white cloth pants, a bright green top and boots. "Yes, this will be fine." 

A little makeup, a little shadow on her eyes, mascara and matte lipstick on her lips. She grabbed a purse and had minutes to spare before Lando showed up at her door.

—I thought you wouldn't come out.— He said when Inez opened the door for him. 

—I thought about ignoring you, but then I figured that one way or another you would know my room number and you would be knocking on my door desperately all night, so… 

—You guessed right.— Lando laughed as they both got into the elevator. On the way to the party they were both talking about random things and laughing. When they arrived, Lando opened the door to hus car and helped her out. Then they came in laughing with their arms crossed. 

—Lando, there you are! Get up here.— Someone yelled at him. Lando looked at Inez and she nodded so he knew she was going to be okay. 

—Go, I'll look for Esteban. 

So he gave her a little hug and walked away. Inez's mind said that she would search for her best friend Esteban in the crowd, but her heart began to search for Mick. She can't find him, and in fact for some reason she can't find any familiar faces. So she just walks over to the bar, orders a drink and sits there. 

From Inez to Estie bestie: Heyyyy! Guess what, Lando brought me to the fucking party. Where the fuck are you? I can not find you :( 

Then she put away her phone again, took a drink as she continued to scan the room. Until she saw him and her heart stopped like it always did when she saw him. But this time it was different, now he is with a girl. They are both sitting across the room talking. Mick said something to the girl while he pointed to the crowd, seconds later Esteban appeared on the shot and sat next to the unknown woman, leaving her in the middle of it. 

“If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her. But if you're single that's honestly worse 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts (Honey, it hurts)”. 

Inez wanted to go, but she couldn't, she didn't want to, not with Mick and that girl there. But then Esteban checked his phone and automatically started looking for his best friend in the crowd. Until he saw her and began to beckon her to see him. She pretended she didn't see him, so the French one got up and went to look for her. 

—Inez! I've been waving to you for a while. Come on, we're over there with Mick and Emma. 

Inez wanted to ask her who Emma was and why she was with Mick, but she kept quiet. 

—I'll be there in a moment, I'm fine here. 

—Something wrong? I'm staying here with you, no problem sweetheart. 

—No, please go. I'm going in a minute.

Esteban looked at her doubtfully, then she gave him a smile and pushed his shoulder in a friendly way to unconcern him. 

—Okay, we'll wait for you there.— She took one last glance in the blonde's direction only to meet his gaze already on her. He smiled at her and waved, but she ignored him, took the last of her drink, got up and went out to the terrace of the place. 

From Mick's perspective, he felt his heart break more and more at the attitudes she held about him. He constantly questioned his own actions, wondering if he had ever done something wrong that upset her.

—Where are you going bro?— Esteban asked Mick when he saw him get up. 

—I'm going to get some air, I'll be right back.— Mick was adamant about her goal, clear things up and for her to tell him why she hates him. 

—Hello.— Inez jumped in shock. She didn't need to turn around to know who he was because she recognized that voice anywhere.— I thought you told me you weren't coming.

—I know, I didn't come of my own free will. Lando made me. 

—Oh. 

Finally she dared to turn to look at him and gave him a small smile. 

—Can I sit with you? 

—Sure.— She replied immediately. 

They didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity. Both looking towards the horizon. But both wanting to look at each other. 

—I understand if you don't want to talk about this, but that day when we got stuck in the elevator, I felt like the conversation was on hold. Because it is a topic that is very important to me and I need to know the answer, if there really is one… 

—Oh, that. Do you want to know why I'm ignoring you?— Suddenly she felt a wave of confidence. Maybe it was the alcohol… or desperation. 

—Hmm…— Mick nodded. 

It took Inez a while to collect her thoughts to see what she wanted to say to the boy next to her. With so many thoughts in her head she became dizzy and felt like she was going to pass out. 

—I ignore you because…because you're so kind and respectful and caring and generous and funny, and you're so damn gorgeous that I can't even look at your face, because look at your face.— She finally blurted out, regretting it the second she was done. That was like the vomit that her heart needed to release. 

—What? So…so you don't hate me? 

—No fucking hell Mick, I'm in love with you and I'm ignoring you because you make me so nervous.

Silence. 

Only the music from the party and Inez's heart breaking into a thousand pieces could be heard. 

—Look at me. 

—Mick… 

—Please look at me. 

Inez knew what was coming now. Mick was so nice that he would probably give her some compliments like how she's beautiful and smart but he didn't reciprocate that feeling. He would ask her to start being friends, probably. 

Already emotionally prepared, she turned to see him, trying to hide her nervousness and the tears that asked to come out of her eyes. She tried, but she couldn't hold his blue gaze for more than 2 seconds, turning to her own hands as she played with them.

Mick raised her head taking her chin gently so that she looked into his eyes again. 

—What would happen if I told you that I'm in love with you?

—What are you talking about? 

—I said what I said, what would happen?

—I wouldn't believe you.

—But it's true.

Inez hadn't realized the closeness between them and her breath caught in her throat. 

—Mick…— She said barely.

—Can I kiss you?— He whispered inches from her lips, still with his hand on her chin. 

"Ok, I'm going to pass out right now." she thought. 

She licks her lips and looks into his eyes, and swore it were even more beautiful up close. As if his eyes could illuminate the dark place they were in at the moment. 

—Do you want to kiss me?— She asks, still not believing what was happening to her. 

—Yes, do you want to?— Now he had shifted his hand from her chin to her jaw. 

—I do.— That was all it took for Mick to close the space between them. 

At first it was just a chaste kiss on her lips, to test the waters. Seeking to affirm something, she put her hands on his chest and squeezed his shirt as if wanting to bring him closer to her. 

It was then that he lowered her hands to her waist and found hers again on his lips in a relaxed movement, full of love that they had hidden for far too long. 

She could easily have melted in Mick's arms and she was glad they were sitting because her now-jelly legs would probably have betrayed her. With her arms also made of jelly, she reached for Mick's neck and her hands buried themselves in his blond hair pulling him closer to her, as if that were possible. 

Leaving his left hand on her waist, Mick ran his right hand up her arm as well, leaving a trail of fire all the way to her head to smooth out some strands that were bothering the kiss, and then continued. stroking his head lovingly. 

When they felt that it was too much, both separated from the kiss, still with their hands on the other. 

Inez didn't want to open her eyes, she didn't want to wake up from this perfect dream she was in. She thought that she had actually ignored Lando and stayed in his hotel room, had fallen asleep and now she was having a wonderful dream with Mick. 

But finally she relented and met the ocean blue eyes that always took her breath away. It hadn't been a dream, Mick had really kissed her. 

—In case it wasn't clear to you, I'm in love with you too.

------

Tags:

@primadonnasdream

@midnightric

[honeysunai]

Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part five - Sun and thunder

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Word count : 4k

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

Warning: Mention of blood and some bad volleyball description.

This other vacation day is an absolute bliss! No alligators, no chlorine filling your lungs, only the beautiful sun and a hot breeze. On the downside… Kyoya made sure that you had to share your vacations with your guests. This is why you’re in your most revealing bikini you had, you had to entertain your guest in some way and you still had to prove that you could be a better host than Kyoya.

You and Taishiro, one of your newest guests, were playing volleyball against Renge and another boy. Your team was clearly winning because of your past in this sport, five years of volleyball! You weren’t the best, but you were certainly a really good player.

Renge passed the ball over the net and you threw yourself to send it back, but failed miserably. You dropped onto the sand and Taishiro rushed over to you. You had to play your part.

“I’m sorry Taishiro, I missed this one.” You sniffed and he grabbed your hands in his. “No worries y/n! You did so great and it’s only one point, we can make it!” He smiled and so did you. You wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you Taishiro! You’re such a great guy! Isn’t he, ladies?” You turned your head to meet with a crowd of girls fawning over the two of you. Taishiro wanted to be more desirable to the female gaze, so this is the part you’re playing. He is a sweet guy, really, you don’t understand why he would need your help to get girls. He just needed a little boost of confidence, you thought.

You played your role so well that even Kyoya was looking at you– staring at you. The cold death stare as you let your guest help you back on your feet. He gives a feather light kiss to your knuckle without breaking eye contact and you blush. I wink at him as his cue to go see his new groupies and he does just that. They welcome him with sweet words and you laugh on the inside.

That stupid plan did in fact work.

But now, you’re missing a player. You looked around to find a replacement and all of your friends were busy, but your male guests were free. “Hi boys! Can one of you be a darling and play with me?” You wave at them, batting your eyelashes. One of the few boys stood up and dashed to you. “Thank you Asahi, you’re so sweet to play with me.” “It’s my pleasure!” He smiles with all his teeth. Asahi was tall and had long luscious dark brown hair. You’d say he was your type, you like tall pretty boys. “Are you any good at volleyball y/n?” He asks while putting his hair in a bun. “I was captain of my team when I was younger. What about you?” “I wasn’t captain, but I was the ace of my team.” He smirks proudly. “I just hope I can keep up with you, my darling ace.” You wink at him and his entire face becomes red. “I’m taking a break ladies, great match.” Renge’s partner smiles before leaving at once, now we’re back at missing a player all of the sudden. “I’ll replace him.” The deep voice you recognize all too well is heard from behind you and as Kyoya walks past you, he makes sure he bumps into you. Where was he when you needed a teammate?

The referee waits until both teams are ready. Kyoya was your opponent, he was in front of you and he was tall. You’d have to find a way to get through him to win. His gaze on you was intense, cold and determined.

“They can start!” Asahi shouts at the referee. “We’re going to win anyways.” He says to you in a low voice and you smirk. You will win.

For some reason, Renge became great at volleyball in an instant and caught you off guard when she served perfectly between you and Asahi. She was strong and fast… She too, played the game of the helpless girl to get the guy’s attention. Well played Renge, she even fooled you.

The referee’s whistle echoes and the point is theirs. You look over to Asahi and nod, this won’t happen again.

Renge serves again and you stay focused on her face, where she will dare to look. She makes eye contact with you and smirks. Direct hit on you! The ball hits your chest hard and you gasp when it hits you.

“Chance ball, Asahi!” You grunt and he doesn’t let a second be wasted to send it the other way as hard as Renge did, harder even towards Kyoya. He sends it to his teammates and she sends it back to him higher. Another direct hit towards Asahi, this time, and he sends it to you with ease. You smash it right in front of Kyoya and he falls onto his knees trying to retrieve the ball, but fails as it rebounds on the sand.

“Can’t keep up, clownfish?” You laugh.

“I can do this all day, goblin shark.” He spat and your blood boiled inside of you. He stands up and calls over Renge to talk about a quick strategy.

Asahi serves and you smirk as you see Renge struggling to focus on his next move. Asahi is unpredictable and that is to your advantage. The ball is up and when Renge figures the move of your teammate, it’s too late. Kyoya was on his toes and reacted before she could send it up in the air so she had enough time to send it back to your side of the court. It was all in slow motion just like in movies, Kyoya’s eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat. It was the tension his gaze exudes towards you, the thrill of the competition. The playful smirk upin his face told you that he was enjoying this too. For the first time, he looked like a normal boy of your age and you found him so beautiful. It’s unfortunate he wasn’t like this at all times. But no matter what, you won’t lose to him, ever.

This intense exchange goes on forever until you have had enough and hit it right next to Kyoya’s head. The whistle blows and it’s your point. He doesn’t move and for a second you think you might’ve traumatized the poor guy. But he laughs, truly laughs.

“You’re trying to kill me?” Kyoya says while trying to keep his composure and you laugh too. You looked like two idiots, but you didn’t care, it was the first time you were laughing with Kyoya. You wanted to cherish that moment a little while longer. 

“You’re in my way.” You finally say and he snorts as if he was saying ‘yeah right’. Asahi gives you a high five and Kyoya’s jaw tense and his smile leaves his face once again.

The scores are equal and you won’t let yourself be beaten by Kyoya’s arrogance. You’re growing tired and your body doesn’t want to keep up with what you have in mind. Your opponents can see that and they are playing at their advantage by making you run everywhere. Kyoya hits the volleyball right in front of you, almost out of reach, but you drop in the sand to hit the ball back to Asahi who spikes it directly behind Renge hitting the line made in the sand. Kyoya walks over to you with a smirks on his stupidly handsome face. You were fuming. He crouches next to you still on his side of the field and laughs.

“Don’t be a sore loser, y/n” The whistle is blown and you look over to the referee– it’s in! That's your point!

“Can’t be a sore loser if I’m winning.” You smirked at your turn and stood up to tower Kyoya. “Great job Asahi!” You shout never leaving Kyoya’s gaze. By his expression, he wanted to wipe that evil smirk stained on your face.

After your sweet victory, you were looking at the sunset with some of your female guests. You were all sitting on a towel you’d put down to enjoy the view. They were nice girls and talked to you about the boys they had a crush on and you listened to them. You’d listen carefully to what they were looking for in a partner and you’d slide in the conversation offering advice. After all, even if they weren’t your friends, you’d still have to be there for them as you are their host. 

“Look at what we have here, one girl for each of us.” A deep masculine voice is heard behind you and your head snapped to see who it was. It wasn’t anyone from your school that you’d seen around, they were local boys and the way they were slowly approaching you meant only trouble. 

“Leave us alone, this is a private beach and you’re not one of our guests.” You warn the boys who are still  approaching you and your female guests. “I will gladly call the security and they won’t be as nice as I am if you do not leave.” You stood up and put yourself in front of the girls. One of them grabbed your arm and quickly let go of it.

“She said leave them alone!” Haruhi’s voice is heard and it gives time to the girls to leave the rock you were now stuck on. The small brunette had an urchin in her hands ready to throw it. 

“Is that your security?” One of them mocks. He grabs onto Haruhi’s shirt and drags her to the edge of the cliff. 

“Come on! Stop messing with him.” You tried to yank the guy off of Haruhi, but instead he drops her in the ocean. You loudly gasp before running to the edge ready to jump after her.

“Haruhi!” Tamaki’s scream is heard as he dashes in the water after your friend before you could.

“Looks like it’s only the four of us now.” One of the boys grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to him. Without thinking your elbow moves and hits him in the groin, hard. It gives you enough time to get away. You can see some security coming up the rock you were on and you felt relieved that the girls alerted someone of our group to call them. Your feet hit a small crevice and you fall down the rest of the way. It was a short fall, but nonetheless it hurts. 

“Y/n!” Honey’s high pitched voice echoes in your ears and you see Kyoya dashing towards you before you can even see the small blonde. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, cupping your cheeks in his hands and you nod. “Are you hurt?”

“I might have scratched my foot and knees.” You grunt.

“And elbows.” Honey pants. You look at your arms and blood is dripping down them. You guessed your fall was more severe than you thought. 

“I’ll bring her to the infirmary.” Mori simply says and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.  

“Tamaki’s in the water with Haruhi! Go look for them please.” You begged your friends.

They all ran towards the water as you and Mori left for the infirmary of the beach resort. You saw blood dripping down his chest going downwards and you were afraid it might stain his swim shorts.

“I’ll ask my mother to make you a new pair of swim shorts, I bet you won’t want to go back swimming in them.” You tried your best to apologize and to squirm out of his grip so he wouldn't be covered in blood.

“Don’t worry about it.” He speaks holding you tighter to his chest and you blush silently as he man handles you.

You finally found the infirmary and he sat you down on the office table. The nurse is probably on break because there’s no one in this room and the tall man starts to look inside the drawers to get some rubbing alcohol and bandages.

He kneels in front of you and starts with your feet. He grazed the damaged skin with a cotton ball dipped in the rubbing alcohol. His touch is so gentle and yet you hold on to his shoulder to hold a hiss. He looks up and you can see that he’s worried he might’ve hurt you.

“I’m fine. It’s not everyday I get injured.” You joked and he lightly smiled. He does the same for your knees and your elbows before wrapping every single one of your injuries with swift and gentle movements. “Thanks Mori.” You smile at him and so does he. You kept silent when he was doing his ‘work’, but now you wanted to know. “Why did you volunteer to carry me here and to patch my wounds yourself?”

“You’re my friend. I have to take care of you, just like you would with me.” He softly speaks as he finishes to wrap up your elbow. Your heart melts, he was too sweet to you and deep inside your mind you wished a certain someone would be a little like Mori. 

“You’re a bit too heavy for me to carry around.” He chuckles at your joke. “But thank you again, for the help.” It was that simple with him, no argument, no teasing… Just plain simple, you liked that. 

“Anytime.” He stood up and towers over you even when you’re sitting on the nurse’s counter. His gaze never left yours and you couldn’t look away from him. “It’s a shame.” He speaks and he’s surprised that these words came out of his own mouth. 

“What is?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“That Kyoya can’t admit to himself that you’re pretty.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” Your surprise with his words.

“You are.” He softly smiles.

“Wait– What do you mean about Kyoya?” Oh my god– Does he know?

“He should tell you that you’re pretty. You’re engaged.” He says it as if it was nothing. You were shocked.

“You knew?” He nods. “How?” You were frantic, but never raised your voice. 

“Mitsukuni and I looked you up before you came into our club. Since you didn’t mention it, it wasn’t our place to do so.” You forgot how powerful their families are! Why didn’t you think about it before?!

“I guess it makes sense.” You hide your face in your hands.

“Are you unhappy with Kyoya?” He asks and you bring yourself to look him in his eyes. 

“No– yes? I don’t know.” You scoff and he pats your shoulder. “He’s infuriating most of the time and gets on my nerves, but sometimes, he’s kind and he cares. He made it clear that our relationship will only be for business, no feelings attached.” You explain.

“But what do you want?”

“Love, plain and boring love.” You laugh. “Just like my parents.” 

“You’ll find it, your old boring love.” He snorts.

“So will you Mori.” You smile.

Dinner was… something.

You sat next to Tamaki and you could smell the smoke coming from the blonde’s perfect ears. You guessed something had happened between him and his protégé. Because during this entire time Haruhi has been eating lobster like she hasn’t eaten in days while ignoring Tamaki who was scolding her. Haruhi was having none of it.

“If I wasn’t there to do something, y/n and the other girls would’ve been in so much more trouble!”

“You were being careless!”

“Now’s the time I excuse myself.” Kyoya pushes back his fancy chair and exits the room rather quickly.

“Can we enjoy a dinner together without yelling, please?” You practically begged the two idiots yelling at one another. They weren’t listening to you, it seems none of your other friends were listening to you as well. Honey quickly gave you a shrug that meant ‘at least you tried’ before ravaging his plate with more lobster. 

“I hate you!” As soon as the words leave the girl's mouth, Tamaki goes silent and turns back to face his plate. He is pale as if he saw a ghost. Haruhi storms out the dining room and you were hoping that her beloved prince would try to catch up to her, but he stayed silent as she ran away. Oh Tamaki…

The other’s finished their meal and went somewhere in the manor while you stayed with oh so silent Tamaki Suho.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” He is sulking, again, and it makes you sad. Tamaki is supposed to be the cheering type of guy who always puts a smile on people’s faces. It didn’t sit right with you to just leave him alone.

“I think you might need a friend for a ‘talk’ or a hug. Both are at your disposal.” You tried to make a joke, but failed miserably as no familiar smile crept on his lips. “What happened with Haruihi?”

“I told her that going after those boys was reckless and that she wasn’t thinking when she tried to be the hero. She’s too fragile! I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He almost raised his voice out of anger, but kept quiet.

“Haruhi is a lot tougher than you want to admit yourself.” You start and he sighs. “I’m not saying that you don’t have the right to be angry, you do. But she did save our guests' life, god knows what these boys would’ve done.”

“What about you?” He simply says finally looking you in your eyes. “You were left alone with them.”

“I gave the guy a hit he will not forget I think.” You chuckle. “I’m no fighter, Tamaki, but I’m not weak. I would do anything in my power to protect my friends or anyone in need. Haruhi did that to try and save me too.” You add. “It was reckless, but you have to understand that she wouldn’t have stayed there and done nothing. She’s stubborn and reckless, but that’s our Haruhi.”

“She could’ve tried to find me beforehand.”

“Tamaki… You’re trying to act like a father figure to her– hell you call yourself her daddy! But she already has a dad and she needs a friend. You’re acting like someone you think you have to be to get close to her, but you’re not bad when you’re yourself, Tamaki. I think you’re a great guy and I think Haruhi would love that guy too.” 

“But she said she hates me.”

“I would’ve said that to you too if you were yelling at me while I’m eating.” You snort and so does he. There he is. “I think you should apologize to her or at least talk about it without yelling.” His soft smile indicates that he understands what you're saying and you gently pat him on the back. 

“You mean that? Do you think I’m a great guy?” The purple tint in his eyes felt like it regained joy and you were proud of yourself to be able to cheer him up.

“The day I tell you otherwise is the day pigs will have wings.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” You give him a quick nudge on his side. 

“Walk me to my room? A certain someone’s room is next to mine.” He nods and you both exited the dining room.

You keep rambling on about the lobster and how great it tasted, but realize that he stopped following you. You look back and he’s in complete shock in front of Kyoya’s open bedroom door. You rush towards him to see what’s got him so confused. You were perplexed as to why your fiancé and Haruhi were sitting next to each other on his bed. Kyoya wasn’t wearing a shirt… The tension between the four of you felt tense. Haruhi, as she meets your gaze, blushes looking away quickly shyly. It wasn’t like her to be like this. Did he tell her? Did they do something they shouldn’t have done?

“Are you all right?” Tamaki asks Haruhi, walking closer to her.

“I’m f—” Kyoya starts. 

“He was speaking to Haruhi.” Your words were sharper than a knife. Thunder raged outside as if you’d made it appear with your feelings. How dare he judge you for a televised kiss? But he’s half naked with Haruhi. The rage that you exude from your body was a clear warning for Kyoya to not speak until you ask him to. Tamaki shivers from this side of you and yells at Kyoya how he is not being a gentleman with his girl. Kyoya’s shocked gaze never left yours as he was being scolded by Tamaki. Your jaw clenched as tears welled up your eyes. You were so angry! Angry that Kyoya can’t keep it in his pants. Angry that he wanted Haruhi over his own fiancé. Angry that he lied and broke his promise to you! You turned around and rushed to your room hoping Kyoya would not come after you.

“Y/n–”Kyoya grabs your wrist to spin you around, but you yank off your arm from his grip. He was so fast and so stealthy you didn’t even hear him follow you.

“Don’t touch me!” The tears in your eyes finally slipped. “You’re an absolute asshole! You judged me for kissing Kaoru in a film, but you were probably going to do far worse with Haruhi. You asked for faithfulness and you can’t keep your word. I hate you Kyoya! I hate—” Your face hit his warm, strong chest while one of his hands is gently stroking the back of your head and the other one around your waist, holding you so close and so tight to him.

“Please don’t cry.” He whispers while tilting his head so his cheek wasn’t resting on your head anymore, it was his lips. “Don’t cry because of me, I didn’t  break my promise to you y/n.” The soft skin of his lips made your entire being burn. Was it his heartbeat or your own who was pounding in your ears? “I was changing and she thought it was her room. We just talked about how reckless she was being today.”

“It sounds ridiculous.” You scoff. 

“I know…” He sighs. “I swear on Tamaki’s head I didn’t do anything or tried anything.”

“You don’t like Tamaki very much.” A soft giggle escapes your lips as you sniff.

“I do in a very special way, but I swear it on yours then.” He chuckles.

“You don’t like me Kyoya.” You roll your eyes.

“More than you make yourself believe.” He whispers. You try to look up, but Kyoya only holds you tighter as if he was ashamed of what he had just said to you. What did he mean by that? Does he want to try? He probably said it to tease you again or to make you stop crying like a baby.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, Kyoya. No one is watching us.” Disgust was shown on your face, but your fiancé couldn’t see it.

“I know.” He keeps stroking your hair as if he was the one who needed it now. He needed comfort just as much as you did. You finally tighten your grip on him and melt into his body as if it was made for you.

After a while you both let go of each other and bid the other one good night and walked to your respective rooms. You finally rested your head on the silk pillowcase, but couldn’t manage to be a little bit tired. After your intense day, week even, you couldn’t even find sleep. You could only think about that stupid dinner date with your in-laws and what happened to day. What happened with Kyoya… The intimacy you shared with him. You needed to talk to him.

You pulled out your phone and tossed and turned in your bed trying to find the courage to call or text him, until your text tone went off. You quickly check your phone and your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you want to go walk around the estate?” - Kyoya

— 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬

✧ @gay-noble @vanicogh @hopeless-romanticnamed-s @idktbhloley @p1nkliquor @hellokittykuroo @batboob @kisskissshutmydoor @lemonrolls @hoku-killer @sunukissed @jessiegerl @lunalily19 @i7zha @asrainterstellar @arimoony24 @simp-lythebest @fan-g0rl​ @randobeetlehouse​​ @glomp-me @yeeyeebabe @maackiimoo @kaelysian @noendingtolove @luminaaz @thewendyslogo @eri0-0 @arielbillyboy16 @aangsupremacy​ @yuriklol​ @lillunna @lostsomewhereinthegarden @chocorenchin  @sukcama @bratb1tch @topmeyelena

[1987vampire]

Tim's a Little... Tied Up Right Now | Tim Wright & Brian Thomas

Fandom: Creepypasta / Marble hornets Word Count: 4k Warnings: Mommmy kink, Daddy kink, cunnilingus, overstimulation, edging, Tim is the sub in this, gay shit cuz Tim x Brian, rope bondage, praise and degradation, etc. not beta'd. A/N: Like all my proxy x readers, the reader is dating Tim, Masky, Brian, Hoody, and Toby BUT this focuses on Tim and Brian in this one :)) Extra:

There wasn’t much that surprised you anymore when it came to living with the boys. From walking into Toby duct-taped to the wall or Brian having an entire dance-off with Tim to an 80s song you didn’t recognize to an entire grown man tied to one of your dining room chairs, face fucked up and bloody, it was suffice enough to say you were used to not knowing what to expect when you walked in.

Today, however, you were caught off guard for the first time in a long while when you walked in, and the first thing you heard was a guttural, full-body shaking moan. You racked through your brain, trying to think of who would be home as you placed your keys and a few groceries on the table.

Toby was gone for the weekend - wanting to spend the night with Natalie and her girlfriend. Tim was on a mission when you had woken in the morning, but Brian had been home. Maybe he had made it back while you were gone?

“A-ah! Please! ”

Oh. That was definitely Tim.

You stood for a few moments, sorting through the groceries and putting them up as quietly as you could. On one hand, you didn’t want to interrupt them. They were allowed to have time by themselves, after all. On the other hand, fuck, if Tim didn’t sound good right now, need begining to course through your veins.

You were so caught up in thought, debating between the two options, that you hadn’t even noticed someone was in the room with you until arms were around your stomach. You gasped, turning quickly, but relaxed at the sight of Brian, bare-chested and breathing heavily. “Hey, baby, you’re back a little early.” He leaned down, mouth pressing to yours quickly.

“Yeah, only needed a few things. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two. You can finish and all, if you want.”

Brian pressed close, nose trailing down the side of your face to your neck until he pressed his mouth to that area, instead, a smile playing on his lips. His hands pressed lower, one dipping to play with the band of your pants. “You care to join?” Your breath hitched, and he grinned even wider. “I have the prettiest scene all laid out right now. I bet you’d love to see it, too.”

You turned, looking at him with wide eyes before nodding.

He slipped his arms from around you and took your hand, leading you away and towards the bedroom. He watched you as he kicked open the door and holy fuck.

Tim was face down on the bed, fully nude with vibrant red ropes tied all around him. Brian had restrained his arms behind his back, fingers intertwined with each other as the rope circled around up to his shoulders in sturdy knots. His knees were pulled open wide with rope going from there to a bedpost, same with his feet, making sure he stayed still. His ass was high in the air, cock looking uncomfortably hard, leaking precum.

“ Oh fuck, ” you breathed out, mouth falling open as you took a step forward without thinking.

Tim turned at the sound, eyes wide but clouded with arousal. Drool dripped down his chin to the bedding below, and his chest was heaving as he took in the sight of Brian and you in the doorway. He let out a small squeak and moan. “ F-fff-fuck, Brian, y/n, please, ” Tim’s voice was breathy and higher than normal, hands clenching into each other, as he whined.

Brian chuckled, hand pulling away from yours as he walked to the other man. He bent down slowly, towering over him as he pressed his fingers to his chin, forcing him to strain to look up at him. “You know that’s not my name.”

“D-daddy, please,” he cried instead. For complying, Brian let his hand slip down the man’s stomach before grasping his cock, hand pumping his length, relishing in the cry of relief he let out. “Thank you! Thank you. Thank you.” He pressed his face back into the mattress, muscles clenching across his body. If that wasn’t a pretty sight, god knows what was.

Brian turned, eyebrow raised as he continued to pleasure the man, a smirk playing at his lips. “So, care to join?”

You took a few more steps into the room, closing the door softly behind you. “Think I could get him to call me mommy?”

At the question, Tim let out a choked sound, whining into the bed.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Brian replied, reaching his free hand out to you. “Come here.” You took Brian’s hand slowly, eyes flitting between the two men. Brian redirected your positioning until you were in front of him, the hand on Tim retreating to press to your stomach, holding you close to him. Tim made a low groan at the action, his entire body shaking from the edging.

Brian’s hips pressed to yours, slowly grinding his erection into your back as one hand slipped into your pants and the other raised up your shirt, toying with one of your nipples. Your head fell back, resting on his shoulder. His mouth pressed to your open neck while his fingers pressed lower and lower, feeling around until you let out a breathy moan when he made it to your clit. He chuckled against your skin.

“C’mon,” he breathed out, “don’t want to keep him waiting, huh?” At the question, you opened your eyes again, half-lidded, staring at Tim who was watching, panting heavily, shifting his hips from side to side as if it would help at all. “Or do you? Want to make him watch while I fuck you? Look at him - so helpless.” He drawled on, pausing only to press a slow kiss to your neck again, this time right below your ear. “He would just have to wait and watch while I pounded this tight little pussy.” A finger slipped into your entrance at the words, and you couldn’t help the moan that followed or the way that your hips canted into his hand excitedly.

God, that sounded nice, but there was a part of you that was winning only by a little, one that you knew would be even better. So, you raised your hand to cup the back of Brian’s head, pulling him closer. “No, I say we completely fucking destroy him.”

Brian chuckled again, fingers tugging at the fabric of your shirt, raising it above your head and throwing it to the side. The rest of your clothes were gone in only a few more moments until you were bare in front of them. Brian was the only one with clothes still on, the sweatpants sitting low on his hips, fabric doing very little to hide or restrain his hard-on.

“Come here, you little minx,” Brian mumbled. “Lay down in front of Tim. Put his mouth to work for me while I get him ready.”

You were following his instructions without even thinking, sliding into the bed in front of the man without hesitation. Tim’s face rose, cheeks flushed red with the need for stimulation, and he leaned forward, trying to get closer to you in any way he could. He grumbled as the restraints kept him relatively in place, but you granted him one favor before you made him work. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his gently. Any hesitation the man usually showed seemed to be thrown out the window at the moment as he practically devoured you, tongue pressing in as quickly as allowed and face pressing forward to get as close as possible.

You whined lowly as he sucked on your tongue, not expecting the action, but definitely not against it. When you pulled away, he chased your lips, only stopping as Brian’s hand wrapped around his throat from behind, pulling him back as you situated yourself in front of him.

“Gonna be a good boy, Tim,” Brian questioned.

He nodded the best he could against his hold. “Yes, yes, I- I will, daddy.”

Brian smirked and then pushed Tim’s head down forcefully, straight between your legs. “Then be a good boy and eat .”

Tim obeyed, mouth falling open and tongue pressing against your folds before finding your clit and sucking hard . You keened against him before pushing his head away, startled by the sudden stimulation. “Be nicer, baby, c’mon.” Tim groaned but dove back in when you let go of his head, eager to taste as much as he could.

You gripped his hair as he moved, whining into the air lowly. Brian’s eyes were trained on the two of you, making you feel a bit self-conscious, but he distilled any fear in one motion as he leaned over Tim, full body covering his and pulling your head to his to kiss you heavily, successfully trapping Tim between the two of you. Tim’s breath was heavy against you, pulling back for just a second to lave his tongue across the inside of your thighs before diving back in. Brian’s mouth pressed to yours again and again, grinning as your mouth opened, breathy moans exchanged to him instead of proper movements. He leaned back for a moment before bumping his forehead against yours and placing a kiss on your cheek.

Then, you heard the most delicious sound - Tim moaning loudly into your core as Brian’s fingers finally pressed into him. Fuck, when had he gotten lube? You didn’t care because Brian’s pulled his fingers out before surging back in and Tim whined so loudly you thought you might cum just from that.

Tim pulled back, gasping for breaths as Brian began a steady rhythm, two fingers pressing in over and over, leaning down to kiss the man’s back, freehand toying with the ropes he had tied so nicely. “Uh-uh,” Brian chided, stopping knuckles deep inside the man before using his free hand to push Tim towards me again. “You stop and I stop, baby.” Tim whimpered but pressed his tongue to your clit again before running down, digging his tongue into your opening, nose bumping against you just enough to give a good amount of friction. You sighed, eyeing Brian again. “He doin’ good?”

You nodded, letting your head rest against the headboard. “Yeah, he’s doing good. So, so good.”

Tim let out a choked sound as Brian sped his movements up in response. “Doing good enough to cum,” he questioned, the other hand moving to grip the other man’s cock, giving a few strokes in time with his fingers thrusting.

Tim’s movements, though sloppy, sped up at the question as well, his breathy, little moans getting louder and louder. You gripped his hair particularly tight as his teeth grazed your clit before he wrapped his lips around it. “Oh, fuck, yes. Yes. ”

Brian chuckled, but it sounded strained. “Is that for me or him?”

You pulled Tim’s face impossibly closer, grinding into him. “Fuck, let him cum if I can, too.”

“Of course, baby,” Brian cooed. “Cum all over his face. Make a mess, slut.”

You cried out as you came, the coil in your stomach snapping, head thrown back in pleasure. Tim made a pained noise at your grip only for it to be followed by a deep groan as he came, spurting all over your bedsheets. He didn’t stop his mouth, though it slowed significantly, until you pushed him away, both of you panting harshly.

After you pushed him away, Brian quickly pulled him back, using the ropes to drag him up so his back was to the taller man’s chest. “Gimme a taste,” Brian murmured before pulling him into a deep, open-mouthed kiss.

You watched through half-lidded eyes, Brian’s hand gripping Tim’s stomach while both of their mouths pressed into each other, the pink of Brian’s tongue sliding against Tim’s bottom lip before diving into the cavern. You let your gaze trail down, the man fully exposed, forced onto his knees. It was a pretty sight, his chest heaving, back arched into the other, the hair that seemed to cover so much of him. Brian had always liked to stay fully smooth, but Tim was a burly man, thick with muscle and fat, everything accentuated with that dark body hair. Even having just cum, he was already half-hard again, cock twitching as Brian gripped particularly tight.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Tim leaned his head back, letting it rest against Brian’s shoulder while Brian cut his eyes to you. He seemed to think for a moment before a shit-eating grin covered his face.

“What,” you questioned as his eyes trailed down your body, thumb rubbing against Tim’s stomach as he thought, Tim’s cock jumping in response.

Brian hummed, pressing the smallest kiss to Tim’s neck before speaking. “You ready?”

You were confused, but you nodded nonetheless. What did he have planned? Brian gently lowered Tim back down before grabbing both of your ankles and pulling you rough until you were face to face with the brunette, his breath fanning across your face. You grinned at him, hands raising to hold his cheeks as he closed his eyes, obviously already tired but happy. “Hi, baby,” you cooed to him as Brian fumbled around for a moment. He opened his eyes at the noise, nuzzling into your palms, clearly out of it, and then closed them again. God, how long had Brian been teasing him?

You made a confused noise as the man in question reached around the other to your waist, using one hand to lift you a bit, just enough to slide a pillow underneath your hips. You situated yourself against it so it was down comfortably before looking up to Brian. What now?

Brian’s hands danced around Tim’s hips for a moment before digging into the flesh and pushing him against you, cock resting just above your heat. Tim whined at the motion, eyes opening slowly. “Wha-”

“Get in her, darlin’.” Brian manhandled Tim again, using his hands to feel out where to go, one hand pressing to Tim’s hips and the other around him, against your heat, thumb pressing to your clit. Your body jerked at the feeling, making him chuckle. Tim was still for a moment before slowly sliding forward, hips pressing forward until he filled you completely, both of you moaning at the feeling.

He stilled once he was fully inside, head hanging as he huffed quietly. Brian met your gaze again and winked before disappearing behind Tim for a moment. Tim made a low noise, confused, and then strangled groan, folding over himself and onto you, shaking harshly in your hold. “F-fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated, whimpering and then groaning again. “Holy Jesus fucking christ.”

You giggled at the words, peeking over his shoulder to see what had him feeling so good. The question was answered pretty quickly at the sight of Brian’s hips flush against Tim’s, hands digging into the flesh of his ass to admire the way he stretched him out. “That’s a good fuckin’ boy,” Brian drawled out, and you watched in awe as he pulled his hips back, relishing in the sound Tim made, before snapping back harshly, using enough force to have Tim rocking into you.

“Fuck, daddy, too much, it’s too much. I- I can’t- I-” Brian repeated the motion, the slow pullback followed by the snap, and you gasped as Tim’s eyes gathered with tears at the overstimulation. How fucking long had Brian teased him? “ Mommy!” Tim’s mouth parted, drool spilling across your neck, visibly straining against the restraints his arms were in. “Fuck, please, mommy, daddy, please, fuck .” His words were slurred together, almost incomprehensible as Brian settled his hands on the man’s hips, moving him to fuck himself back onto Brian and into you.

Brian leaned over him again, still rocking the man’s hips, and you stifled a moan as he went around Tim to kiss you again, this time, the three of you pressed so tightly together you thought you might suffocate, but oh, what a heavenly way to go. Brian let go of Tim, letting the man still for just a moment, before he began thrusting again, slamming his hips into Tim so forcefully that the slaps echoed around the room and Tim struggled to keep himself still, rocking into you again and again enough to have you wrap your arms around him, nails digging under the ropes to leave scratch marks on his back. The brunette let out such pathetic little sounds, words slurring from his tongue but complete gibberish by the time they were out. After a while, he gave up, letting his mouth half-heartedly suck on your neck, more slobber than anything as he whimpered and whined, Brian’s grunts and your moans filling the empty space.

“I knew this would be a good - fuck - a good idea,” Brian growled out, seemingly in a trance as his rhythm picked up in speed just the slightest. “So fucking pretty like this - the both of you. God, my little whores, so pretty, so fucking slutty.”

Before either of you registered it, Brian gripped the front of Tim’s throat and violently forced him up so his face wasn’t buried in your neck anymore. Tim unconsciously thrusted at the movement, a gargled moan spilling from his lips with the drool that fell down his neck. “Feel good, boy?”

Tim nodded quickly. “Fee-feels- feels so -so fucking g-good - so- fuck- so good, so good, so good.” Tears were streaming down his face. “Feel so good, daddy, good, good, good, good.” He cut himself off with a whine. “ Mommy - mommy feels good, feels- nngh - I-”

You would have laughed at his predicament if you could, but all you could focus on was how the words went straight to your core, forcing you closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

“I need- cum - cum - I need to cum, please, please, daddy, fuck, please. ”

And, god, you wanted to cum at the sound of his voice, but first, you wanted him to, needed him to release it all before you did, wanted to feel him fall apart as you came, but you were so close already. You bit back a moan as he blabbered on, pleas and begs for Brian to let him cum continuing in a mess of garbled, half-understandable words. He was right there, so close, and you reached your hands up to his face, pulling him close to kiss, just to get him to be quiet for a moment, but he was unresponsive, only whimpering and moaning into your mouth as you tried to kiss him.

You let out a low gasp for air as you pulled back, squirming uncomfortably as you tried to keep from cumming as Brian fucked into him particularly hard before pulling Tim’s hips in that controlling motion all over again, forcing him to fuck himself. "C'mon, Tim, cum for mommy, yeah?" You cooed the words so gently, fingers tracing his face as he opened and closed his eyes blearily. "Want you to fill me up."

"Don't you fucking dare, Tim." Brian's hand gripped the man's hair before roughly pulling, forcing him to arch his back into him, a whine spilling from his lips. "I did not give you permission.”

You leaned forward, stretching a bit uncomfortably, mouth open and tongue pressing to his chest. He shuddered at the feeling, flexing his arms again as he tried to fight the restraints. Your hands gripped his waist over Brian’s hands, coaxing him as close as possible while not messing with the other’s rhythm. "Come on, baby, cum for me. I want you to cum. Cum in mommy."

"Yeah, well, daddy's telling you no." Brian pressed his mouth to Tim’s neck, the man shaking fiercely at this point. “Are you really going to disobey me?”

You giggled nefariously, breathing the next question into his skin. “Are you really going to disobey me ?”

You wrapped your mouth around his nipple, and then, he was gone, blabbering endlessly as he came, crying even harsher, shaking his head. “I’m sorry- sorry- sss-sorry- I can’t- I- fuck - please-” His voice cracked, but Brian was quick to silence him with a kiss, one that he actually reciprocated this time. You gasped at the feeling of his cum filling you, warmth coating your insides and slipping down to the sheets below as he rutted helplessly. You came, then, grinning at the way he sobbed into Brian, overstimulation the only thing on his mind as you dug your nails into the backs of Brian’s hands, head thrown back and body tense as waves crashed over you, running down your fingertips and making your toes curl almost uncomfortably.

Brian made the softest noise at the feeling of your nails, opening his eyes and pulling away from the kiss to watch as you came apart underneath them. He grumbled a soft, “fucking shit,” hips faltering, snapping forward, and then stuttering again before he groaned deeply. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled as he took a few ragged breaths, letting Tim fall down to you again, the brunette probably not even recognizing the change in position as he gasped for breath, eyes closed. “Wanted to last a bit longer, but fuck,” Brian continued, “y’all are gonna fucking kill me.”

You giggled in the post-orgasm haze, grinning up at him. “It was your idea, B. Can’t be mad at us for that.”

He chuckled. “No. No, I cannot. You okay down there?”

He leaned over Tim a bit, and you patted the blonde’s face affectionately. “I don’t think I’m the one you have to be worried about right now.”

Tim looked asleep at this point from where he rested. “He’s been through worse,” Brian replied. “And he knows his limits. He’s fine.” Tim grumbled but didn’t say anything, nuzzling his face into your collarbone. Brian leaned back, and then Tim let out a disappointed noise as he pulled out. “Oh, shut up, Tim,” he laughed, “I’m going to go get the shower running, and then I’ll untie you.” He opened the door, and you watched with eager eyes as he left, taking in the sight of him nude and standing to where you could see all of him. Beautiful.

Once he had disappeared, you shuffled quietly, laughing quietly as Tim grumbled again, shifting until he pulled out of you, both of you gasping at the feeling, and then he shifted around the best he could until he was laid on your chest instead.

“Are you okay there, baby,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “Looks like he put you through a bit.”

You could feel Tim smile at the question, and he nodded just barely. His voice was raspy as he spoke. “I’m perfect.”

You grinned. “Yeah, you are.”

Brian returned, keeping his word of untying the brunette who stayed unresponsive for the most part, his only movement being to wrap his arms around you when they were finally freed, pulling you impossibly close. Then, after his legs were free, Brian slowly ushered the two of you to the shower with him, having to practically carry Tim even as the man grumbled that ‘I don’t need no help, dammit, I can walk just fine,’ only to practically collapse when Brian let go.

It was silent in the shower, just the two of you holding Tim up, Brian having to hold you just a bit a few times when you moved a particular way. The only thoughts that occupied your mind at the moment were ‘I really need to get a bigger shower ’ only to go ‘maybe not’ as the three of you pressed closer, shuffling around a few times to get properly cleaned, forced together.

Finally, you were collapsed on the bed, you just threw an extra cover on the bed until you could properly clean the sheets. Tim had passed out as soon as his head hit the covers, squished between both you and Brian, you cuddled to his chest and Brian wrapped around his back. Sometimes surprising was good, you supposed.

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

See You Very Soon

Panic arises between Father Paul and you once you learn the dioceses could transfer him elsewhere. Established relationship. This might be one of most (if not the most) angstiest pieces I’ve ever written (if you can even call it that). A happy ending and lots of comfort is a must. Enjoy <3

See You Very Soon - 4K

tw: slight angst, crying, suggestive themes (mentioned)

Father Paul Hill was usually able to keep his cool where other people would lose their minds. This was important in his line of work as a priest. He needed to be calm, patient, compassionate and always kind. And to everyone on Crockett Island he was just that. However, now there was a storm of emotions swelling within him, like a hurricane they shook him and made his carefully built up calmness crack and crumble. His palms were sweating and a slight dizziness began setting in his head. He knocked upon the wood of your front door and waited.

Having a secret relationship with the local priest was just that - very much a secret. There was some thrill to it, quiet kisses stolen on the beach or in the woods, tender soft words spoken in the silence of Saint Patrick's, lustful moments spent wherever you wouldn't get caught - and occasionally somewhere where getting caught was a real danger. The secrecy of it wasn't that hard to bear, because two people actually did know; your best friend Erin and, to some extent, Riley Flynn. Erin hadn't told him, you knew as much, one day Father Paul casually mentioned that Riley knew. And that he was particularly sassy about it during one of the meetings Joe didn't attend, poking fun at the priest, yet promising to keep the secret. All in all, the relationship was mature, filled with mutual love and respect and built upon a strong base of trust, honesty, understanding and friendship. You were absolutely able to imagine yourself spending the rest of your life by this man's side, helping to guide him and let him guide you. Even though it meant that you would forever need to remain a secret. No wedding, no sound of little feet running around. But you held no regrets - all you needed was the priest and his love.

It was a sunny afternoon and your windows were left open to let the crisp sea air in. You smiled when your gaze fell upon your beloved through the window, your heart filling with delight immediately. Your joy was short-lived though. Even at such a distance you could see Father Paul had a worried line between his expressive eyebrows and a sense of urgency about him. You were standing by the door before he reached it and opened it in the blink of an eye after his last knock. He walked past you quickly, deep in thought, apparently, chewing the inside of his cheek as he often did. He still wouldn't look at you and you grew more and more worried by the second. He had that effect, his emotions so deep and overwhelming you found yourself experiencing them with him. You came forward slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. "Paul?" your hands slowly touched his forearms and moved up until settling on his shoulders, "what's wrong, my love?" The priest finally looked at you, his eyes unreadable. "I-I um..." he finally spoke, voice uncertain, "I received a call from the dioceses. The nursing home where Monsignor Pruitt currently resides finally sent them his full examination and final conclusion, which confirms that the Monsignor is no longer able to carry out his duty as a priest."

You listened to him intently, not quite grasping why would that upset him so: "Well, and what does that exactly mean? For you, that is?" Father Paul took a deep breath and seemed to wilt before your very eyes. His eyes lifted again to meet yours: "It means that he's no longer the parish priest of Saint Patrick's. The church will need a new priest... And I was put here as Monsignor Pruitt's substitute while he was recovering. Now, since he's been relieved of his duties, it could mean..." Paul's lip shook and his eyes glistened. You didn't say anything. You couldn't if you tried, really, the implications were strong but unthinkable. "I don't automatically become this parish's priest just because I currently serve here. They have the right to find someone else entirely for the post here. They could make me... leave." Hearing these words made you feel like you were a tower hit by a trebuchet fired stone. You trembled, your hands on his shoulders subconsciously squeezing him so hard your knuckles went white and your eyes spilled. However, you refused to give up. There had to be something you could do! "And..." you swallowed hard, "you don't have a say in it? You can't, I don't know, volunteer?" Paul was now holding you around your waist, hanging onto you like a thread saving him from falling down into the abyss. "O-of course I can apply for the position, but if they really need me someplace else, or they find someone better suited... there is nothing I can do about it." "But there's nobody better suited!" you called out desperately, startling the man, "the people here trust you, they adore you! And they need you! You're their spiritual leader, not some seasonal job hired help!"

You were getting more and more upset, tears streaming down your flushed face like salty rivers and your voice broke with sobs. Paul now embraced you fully and made soft shushing noises in an attempt to calm you down. And after the longest while, during which you cried silently into his strong chest, he succeeded. "W-when... when w-will you be m-meeting them?" you asked, your voice hoarse and shaking. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his cheeks cold and wet from his own tears, yet he spoke steadily, almost monotonically: "Tomorrow. I'm catching the Breeze in the morning. Bev, of course, knows and mass will be cancelled." "I'll come with you," you sniffled meekly, your fingers grabbing at his shirt desperately. "No." he said firmly, startling you a little. He pulled away to look into your eyes, his own were red and puffy. "No," he said again, softer this time, "it's going to be nerve wracking enough... I don't want to put you through it too. Stay here and try not to think about it. If there's anything I truly hate, it's knowing that you're sad." He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb.

You lifted your face and held his own in your hands. You tried to tell him everything you felt for him with your eyes and he seemed to understand, for his lips suddenly captured yours in a hungry kiss. The kiss said what words  could never properly formulate, the deepest, most basic and carnal feelings that bound you two together. You made love the entire night, desperate in your movements, as if it was to be the last time, as if trying to take absolutely everything the other had to offer.

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone and his side of the bed was cold. Your eyes still stung from crying, which you did all throughout your lovemaking, sorrowful tears mixed with heavenly pleasure and burning love. It was only 7 o'clock. You sat up in your bed and fisted the sheets in frustration. Finally, you got up and quickly began dressing yourself, determined to make it to the harbour before Sea Breeze sailed towards the mainland. The morning was rather cold and you foregone putting a jacket on in your hurry, but no chill could reach you. You ran as fast as your own feet would take you, the gravel crackling underneath with each step. Finally you saw the piers, the various fishing boats, big and small and in the centre of them was Breeze, its engine rumbling and with people climbing aboard. One of them was a tall man with jet black hair and he was currently talking to Sturge in front of the ferry. "Paul!" you called , voice still hoarse. His head snapped to you and you could see him gesticulating at the bearded man before he swiftly ran to where you stood. Instinctively, you ducked behind some tall crates and waited for him.

"What are you doing?" asked Paul when he joined you there, "I told you I’d rather you stayed here." Having stopped running, you suddenly felt cold and crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve your body's heat: "I know and I will, but... y-you didn't even say goodbye." Paul hurriedly took off his jacket to drape it over your bare shoulders. "I couldn't," he admitted then, "the idea of saying goodbye to you considering the situation... I just couldn't." You touched his cool cheek with your hand. "Let's not say 'goodbye' then. Let's just say...'' you thought for a bit, "let's say 'see you soon'. 'See you very soon'." The priest swallowed and closed his eyes, nodding once. You returned his jacket and kissed him deeply. "Uh, Father Paul!" sounded a loud voice, making the two of you part immediately. "Father, we need to go, the ferry should have left five minutes ago!" Your lover gave you one final look, making you feel absolutely seen in every aspect of your existence. "See you very soon."

---

You walked back towards your home slowly, and despite shaking like a leaf from the cold, you took the longer route, through the wooded areas. What was to become of you if the dioceses truly decided to send Paul away. What would you do? You could follow him; but that would mean leaving this island, maybe forever. Leaving the people you grew so fond of, and leaving Erin of all people! How could you ever do that to her? And what if you did follow Paul and you turned up in some community of Bev-like fanatics with eyes everywhere. If they put two and two together, with their new pastor spending suspicious amounts of time with a newcomer young woman, it could ruin him. It could wreck his entire career as God's servant. And you couldn't do that to him either, you could never. Yes, he was breaking his celibacy vows with you, but he was otherwise made to be a priest and he fulfilled his duties masterfully. There were folks who observed themselves as broken beyond repair, doomed to forever live in despair. They weren't like that to Father Paul Hill. To him, nobody was beyond repair, nobody was doomed, and everybody deserved his help if they asked for it. He was an amazing person who went out of his way to help people, and part of the reason he was able to do that was his position as a spiritual leader. If you rid the world of that, if you rid him of that, you'd never be able to forgive yourself.

What if you stayed and he left? Would that mean your entire relationship was over? Or would you attempt to keep it long-distance? How often would you be able to visit him, once a week? A fortnight? Once a month? What if he was moved to the other end of the country? Writing paid well, but not nearly well enough for you to be able to afford tickets across the whole of the USA every week. What if - and you froze in your tracks - what if he met someone? What if he met someone... better than you? Some prettier, smarter girl who'd steal his heart... The idea made weakness rush through you and you sat down upon a nearby boulder, hugging yourself tighter. So cold. Another thought occurred to you, one that made you feel sick with yourself. Because if Paul really did leave and found someone better, you wouldn't be able to be happy for him. No, you hated yourself for it, you felt incredibly selfish, but you wouldn't be able to be happy for him, even if he was happy. At least for a while... For a long while, all you would feel would be agony and jealousy and rage.

You started crying again, sobbing into your cold hands and leaning your forehead against your knees. "Oh dear, what are you doing here, dressed like that?!" came a voice from somewhere to you left, "you're going to catch your death!" You looked for the source of the voice and found Annie. She was merely 15 metres away and walking swiftly towards you. "Oh, oh dear," she said once more, her kind voice filled with worry as she saw your tear-stained cheeks. She approached closer and got to her knee in front of you, putting her warm hands on your knees in a very motherly way: "Get up, sweetie, we need to get you someplace warm." You didn't know why you immediately obeyed, why it didn't even occur to you to protest. It was probably the feeling of maternal safety you got whenever you were in Annie's presence. You got up from the cold boulder, letting the older woman wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you to her home.

---

"I heard your stay on Crockett Island was quite fruitful. Steady growth in attendees of daily and Sunday masses, and the Easter vigil was apparently a big success," Bishop Theodore listed, observing a few pages in front of him, "you also began an AA program, from what I'm told." "Yes," Paul replied. Ever since he parted ways with you, his legs felt unsteady and he was more nervous than he ever was before. Now especially, since the conversation reached the subject of his illness some time ago, and he had to explain that you were a dear friend of his who helped him a lot after he first came on the island. Seeing as you were very much a newcomer too. The bishop accepted this answer without another word. "Now," he put the papers back into a simple thin manilla folder, "there is a church in northern Massachusetts which recently lost their pastor to old age. It's a bigger town and I think you'd do very well there... However, I'd like to ask about your opinion as well. You seemed rather unwell ever since you stepped over the threshold." The younger priest blinked and fiddled with his hands in his lap.

"Yes, I'd... is there any chance I'd be able to remain on Crockett Island?" he asked, finally looking directly at Theodore. "Stay on Crockett?" the older man asked, surprised, "but it's such a small place, with so few people. To be quite honest, I half expected to find a priest here who would only venture there to serve Sunday mass. Why would you want to stay there? In Massachusetts, you could grow as a priest, maybe you could even become a bishop yourself, someday." Father Paul swallowed and took a deep breath: "I know. But... that's not what I want. I've grown... used to Crockett Island and I can't just leave the people. They became my neighbours and friends. They were used to having Monsignor Pruitt there everyday, not only on Sunday, he was their spiritual leader for, what, 50 years? And they got used to me too, now," he leaned forward on his chair to rest his elbows on his thighs, "I still have responsibilities to them. I have to continue leading them in Christ, I have to carry on with the AA program. I need to be available to them when they need me. It's my duty not only as a priest, but also as a good Christian."

The bishop looked at him with his baby blue bespeckled eyes, observing the young pastor curiously. "Please, Excellency," Paul looked up and held his gaze, "let me stay on Crockett Island." There was silence, disturbed only by the steady ticking of a massive grandfather clock. Paul could have screamed, and he could've begged and he'd probably give anything to be able to escape his superior's piercing gaze. But then, in a moment which engraved itself into Paul's memory forever, the older man smiled warmly at him. "Very well then," he said only, "if you really do wish to take on the full responsibility of being this parish's priest permanently, so be it. We'll have to go over a few things then, though." A mountain fell from Father Paul Hill's shoulders.

---

You sat at the Flynn family home, a warm knitted blanket resting over your shoulders and a cup of hot tea in your still cold hands. You felt incredibly stupid, but also strangely numb. Annie sat opposite of you, looking at you questioningly, but not prying. Only when she realised you wouldn't spill your beans on your own did she finally speak: "Is this about Father Paul, dear?" Your eyes widened in shock and you almost heard a record scratch in your head. "What," you said eloquently. "Oh you know, are you having problems? Did you have an argument, maybe?" You couldn't believe your own ears. Annie Flynn (whom you definitely haven't told of your relationship with the local priest) was casually asking whether the two of you had a domestic. Still, you tried to deny: "I-I don't really know what you're talking about, Annie." The woman just chuckled and rolled her eyes, as if this entire situation was just one big joke and you were being cheeky with her. "Oh, come now, sweetie!" Your cheeks took on a light shade of crimson and you suddenly felt too hot.

"Father Paul and I, we are-.... we're fond of each other." you said quietly, as if the entire Island could hear you, "and the fondness goes beyond friendship." You were terrified of looking at Annie and seeing her disappointed face, you were so afraid of what she's going to tell you. But instead of some deeply disapproving retort or maybe even an insult, a gentle hand landed under your chin instead, lifting it. There was no disappointed look on Annie's beautiful face, there was no frown, no knitted eyebrows. Instead, Annie Flynn was smiling at you, comfortingly, warmly. Your rapid heartbeat slowed down and your black thoughts started to dissolve like salt in hot water. Saint of a woman, she was. "I know," Annie said only. You still questioned her with your gaze, wanting to know how she found out. She chuckled again and stroked your cheek: "I had my suspicions for a while. I only knew for sure a week ago." You searched through your brain for any moment spent with Annie in the last week when you might've let something slip. "I went to meet Ed for lunch. He was on his own for the day, so we figured we could make it a little romantic. And then I pass this small hidden beach and what do I see? Someone's already being romantic here!"

"Oh my goodness..." you let your head fall into your hands. You knew exactly what Annie was talking about. Back then, you and Paul agreed that Sex On a Beach was a fine drink and a great thing, but not quite in broad delight, and most definitely not without at least a picnic blanket, lest you brink the Beach back home with you. And thank god for that, because it meant you and Father Paul were merely engaging in languid snogging right when Annie must have accidentally seen you. She actually laughed at your horror-stricken face. "How- how can you be so fine with this? I mean, you're basically a saint, and I... He's a priest, and h-his vows... I thought you'd be angry with me."

The older woman shook her head: "These things happen, (F/N), way more often than you'd think. When I was young there was a rumour that even Monsignor Pruitt... well, anyway, it doesn't change anything. You're both lovely people and you've got a lot in common. And even though he's a clergyman, the two of you are still very much humans. He's still a wonderful pastor who does his work dutifully, and you're still a dear friend who's always ready to offer a helping hand, and I'm not judging either of you. It's a happiness that harms no one." You listened to Annie's kind voice, feeling more and more at ease with every word. Still: "But it's a sin." "Perhaps," she admitted, "everybody sins. I too sin. So does my husband and my boys. And the entire island. If your greatest sin is love for another person, I think god might just be willing to turn a blind eye to it."

You couldn't help it, you had to grin. But as you sat with her in silence, the dark fear of losing Father Paul came back. "But I'm afraid I'll lose him," you conceded, "I'm afraid they'll send him to another parish, far away, and I won't be able to follow." "Is that why you were crying earlier, dear?" You didn't answer immediately. "It's just... I've had a few...boyfriends over the years, but I feel like what I felt for them wasn't a thousandth of what I feel for Paul. I was very fond of them, but I've never been so utterly terrified of losing them." Annie smiled but said no more.

---

You spent the entire day at the Flynn house, helping Annie with various household chores, aiding her in preparation of dinner. Warren came home from school, then disappeared for some time again, presumably with his friends. Or maybe Leeza. Ed, Riley and Erin also joined you. Right when almost everyone sat down at the dinner table, there came a knock from the door. Seeing as you were the only one still standing, you went to answer. Your eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Father Paul Hill. "Hi. How did you know where I am?" you asked softly and joined him outside, closing the door behind you. "Annie sent me a text," he explained, patting the pocket of his jacket which contained his phone. "Can we talk?" he asked and took a hold of your hand. You let him lead you by the side of the house, away from the streetlight and into the dark backyard of Annie and Ed's home. He sat down with you then, so you were facing the sea, not letting go of your hand for a single moment. "So... how did it go?" you asked, uncertain once more, but trying to make your voice sound neutral. "Bad," replied the priest in a strange voice, "horrible, really. (F/N), Angel, prepare for the worst." Your heart sank and you felt fresh tears already fighting their way out.

"Oh god, Paul!" you sighed shakily, but didn't manage to get another word out, because: "Yes, it seems you won't be getting rid of me after all, and this time it's permanent." You gasped and stared at him in utter bewilderment. You recovered quickly though: "You! Utter! Git!" you punctuated each word with a light slap to his chest. He had the absolute audacity to giggle, and while it was a beautiful sound to hear, you weren't quite ready to forgive him just yet. "Don't you dare laugh at me, I was bloody terrified!" You stopped hitting him and instead left your hands on his chest and rested your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry," he said quietly, stroking up and down your back. You breathed him in, he smelled like the sea and incense and something that was so uniquely him, and you were getting high on this scent. His hand then ventured up the back of your neck and into your hair, and he gently made you pull away. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." And then Father Paul Hill crashed his lips against yours with reckless abandon, making you moan into the kiss and open your mouth. Your teeth clashed and tongues met, and you held onto your beloved as you let your upper body lean back until it hit the ground. He could only follow and soon he was above you, not having parted from your lips for a single second.

You supposed you could forgive him.

---

"They're kissing," said Ed, covertly peeking out of the window. "Yeah," replied Warren in between bites, "they do that a lot." His family turned to face him, surprised looks on their faces. "How would you know?" asked Annie, who was surprised the only member of her family who genuinely had no idea of the relationship between the local priest and you had been her husband. "I can never take Leeza anywhere, they're always in the best spots!" This retort earned him a disapproving look from his father, but an amused chuckle from everyone else.

I hoped you enjoyed reading! As always, you can check this story and the entire series on AO3. I’m a huge sucker for reviews, they always lift my spirits <3

[untiltheendoftime]

Summary: Staring at a stranger leaves you with an empty plate of fries and a heart filled with the slightest bit of love.

gif by @stevenrogered

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: A normal amount of swearing, other than that it's pure fluff.

Writers note: This is for @celestialbarnes "4k writing challenge"

Reblogs, likes and your thoughts are so much appreciated. Feel free to point out any errors.

    ─── ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ───

Can I steal your fries?

You had found yourself in a small diner, after another terrible date, with a large portion of fries in front you. Perhaps alcohol would've been more helpful to forget the whole day, but sadly your work schedule didn't allow you to get drunk and risk a hangover.

As soon as you sat down, you deleted the dating app off your phone, earning an amused look from the stranger in the booth in front of you when you had muttered something along the lines of "Fuck this shit." and "Might as well start referring to myself as a trash can if trash is all I attract."

You could feel the warmth of a blush rising on your cheeks when you heard the stranger chuckle and you were sure that you looked exactly like the ketchup on your fries. Why did you have to blush so easily? Fuck.

Unfortunately he was quite handsome, which didn't help your ketchup-face problem at all. His hair was rather short, though it looked like he was growing it out, and he gave off cozy vibes with the navy blue hoodie he was wearing and the steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was far more than quite handsome. It was then that you noticed that his eyes, unfairly blue like the sky on a perfect summer day, were focused on you.

He fully caught you staring at him. Damn it.

In order to hide your embarrassment, you quickly adverted your eyes to the plate in front of you. Suddenly the fries were very interesting.

The sound of footsteps appeared and just when you had thought that you creepingly staring made the stranger leave, a muscular body came in sight and you were starting to feel anxious.

Thinking that apologizing was the best way to get over with this as soon as possible, you tried to come up with an excuse "Look, I'm sorry for staring. I jus-" you started bubbling, but he quickly interrupted you.

"Wouldn't have caught you staring at me if I wasn't staring as well, would I?" he said, his voice surprisingly sweet and when you had gathered up enough courage to look up at him, you were welcomed with a breathtaking smile.

Without any hesitation, he sat down in front of you and the anxious feeling quickly washed away, being replaced with irritation instead. Sure, he didn't look bad, but he was a stranger after all.

You eyed him suspiciously and he did the same, obviously mocking you. "I don't want to sound rude but I believe your coffee wants your attention more than me" you said, actually not really bothering to sound polite.

"Does sound rude to me, doll."

He probably used the nickname a lot, however it didn't stop you from feeling flattered. Not wanting to acknowledge it, and turning red again, you decided to keep your mouth shut.

The silence was starting to feel uncomfortable and from the way his brows slightly furrowed with thought, you could tell that he didn't want the conversation to end so soon.

"You're not here for the first time and I actually wanted to talk to you for a while." he admitted, "Even tried to get your attention, but all you did was stare into your phone and yeah" a faint blush crept up on his cheeks.

It took you a solid minute to process his words. Yes, you were a frequent customer, most of the times visiting after another date went downhill and sometimes you would google dating advice and gag at all the bullshit everyone wrote. You didn't exactly hate being single, though having someone to come home to wasn't the worst thought you could think of. The more dates went wrong, the more you and your family, especially them, began to wonder what was wrong with you.

"Always love a stranger watching me" you joked and instantly grimace at how badly you had worded it. That's not what you meant.

His laughter filled your ears and it was full of warmth and so contagious, you had to laugh as well.

After the laughter had died down, he cleared his throat and extendended his right hand to you "I'm Bucky" he softly said and while shaking it, the contact sending slight shivers down your spine, you tell him your name.

"Now that we know each others names, can I steal some of your fries?" Bucky asked, not waiting for an answer as he reached for your plate.

"No" you chuckled out, playfully swatting his hand away, and he glared at you for a second before dramatically putting the hand on his chest, claiming that you've really hurt his feelings and it might take decades to mend the pain in his heart.

The conversation between the two of you flowed nicely. He told you about his visits to different countries and you would ask questions about how the people were and if the food tasted good, the latter truthfully answered with a "I usually went for cheeseburgers due to the lack of time."

You had told Bucky how much you despise going on dates now because your family would pressure you, saying that the problem has to be you since your ex shortly found a significant other after the break up.

Bucky's jaw tightened at that and he voiced out how fucking rude your family was, wondering if they don't have anything else to do than rubbing their noses in your love life. Seeing that he has was way more understanding than your own family, empathy had always been something all of them undoubtedly lacked off, made you even more fond of the handsome stranger and you felt comfortable sharing personal pieces of your life with him as hours passed by.

Midway through your story you paused to look at your plate, realizing that it was almost empty now and the only reason why he didn't stop your rambling was because it allowed him to eat your fries.

"Stop taking my fries." you muttered out, causing him to grin.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he questioned, voice heavenly charming as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you.

Perhaps this was the most cliché thing to do, but the look he gave you when you threw a few fries at his face was something you wish you would've gotten a picture of. His eyes were still slightly widened in shock when he, not so attractively, shoved all of the fries in his mouth, making you laugh at his childish behavior.

"I got to eat the fries. Seems like I won, sweetheart." he proudly declared.

Banters and stories later, your eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on your phone and you frown when it reads two a.m

You jolted up from your seat, calling out an apology to the old waitress who seemed to be startled by the sudden change of energy. "I do enjoy talking to you, but my shift starts in six hours." you said, your voice laced with a hint of sadness.

Bucky stood up as well and reached for your phone that was still lying on the table. He handed it you, signaling for you to unlock it, and when he had access to it, he quickly typed in his number and pressed the saving button. A cheekish smile on his lips when he puts it in your grasp again and you can't help but beam at him, too.

He held his hands up in defense, "Figured you need my number after you have deleted all the datings apps."

You rolled your eyes in response and, who knows where the confidence boost came from, step closer to him. "Goodnight" you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his cheek and they instantly heat up, which made him look adorable. Maybe you had found someone who blushes just as easily as you.

Once you had entered the front door of your apartment, your phone gave off a noise, signaling that you had received a message. A quick glance at the screen told you that it was Bucky asking if you came home alright. He definitely is a gentleman. Just when you were about to answer him, another text popped up. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop you from grinning like a lovestruck teenager while reading it.

Bucky:

When will you take me out?

Sincerely, your trash

    ─── ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ───

First story on here. Hopefully it's not that bad? I would absolutely love to hear some feedback. Thank you for reading everything ♡

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[allthingskakashi]

• Bells and Balls •

[ Kakashi x Reader ]

Tags : NSFW, Smut

Words : 4.8k

A/n: I wrote over 4k words just to get some dick.

Okay sbsbajash idk I'd been working on this for like a whole week and i couldn't concentrate on anything unless i finished this lmao so here it is whatever, I can't drag this around anymore. Uhhh hope you like it I'm still not very good at writing smut im sorry. This takes place in the post Anbu and pre team 7 era and Kakashi’s a bit of an asshole but you know you still love him. This is also a little similar to my other fic ‘Yearning’ but here you get the s e x and i’m sorry if the characterization is bad, i put more focus on making it hot i guess ok ill shut up now i hope you like it

You give the sheet of paper in your hand one final glance, and look around the room. There’s a long line behind you and you’re surrounded by your fellow jounins, each here to submit their respective lists.

You were extremely happy with the performance of your team and didn’t have to think twice before passing them. You had no doubt that they would make wonderful shinobi. You looked forward to teaching and guiding them, and judging by the chatter around you, most other jounins had passed their teams too.

The trouble, however, remains with Kakashi Hatake.

A few weeks ago, you had all been named squad leaders and put in charge of a squad, and today was your very first day with your assigned teams. As instructed, each of you conducted a test for the genin and depending upon whether they passed or failed, the final list would be announced.

No one till date had ever passed Kakashi Hatake's infamous test, and everyone was sure that no one would this year either. Most genin trembled in fear of him, being aware of his strict methods.

And as it happens, at this moment, this infamous man is right in front you, standing with his back hunched forward as he hands his paper in to the woman behind the desk.

You wait for your turn, your eyes fixating on the red symbol on his vest as you wonder, ruefully, about the fate of the students he must have failed this time.

You take a step forward as he turns around, having submitted his paper, and the line moves up behind you.

Kakashi peeks briefly at your paper as he passes, letting out an audible scoff at the list in your hand before walking on ahead, hands tucked in his pockets.

You’re momentarily confused by this sudden act, but something is already starting to boil up inside you. You aren’t exactly known for being placid, nor for sitting by and allowing people to give you crap. Your eyebrows furrow as you hastily thrust your sheet onto the desk, before making your way to follow after him.

“Do you have a problem?” you call to his back as a few heads turn towards you.

He stops, taking his time turning back to look at you, half lidded eyes looking as indifferent as always.

His demeanour pushes you further to the edge and you take a few steps closer, craning your neck to meet his eyes, waiting for an answer.

“Well?”

He peers down at you unfazed, completely oblivious to the audience around you, as if they are not even there.

“You’re too soft”, he shrugs. “You don’t know how the shinobi world works” he says bluntly, piercing you with his unwavering gaze.

You glare back at him, your mouth twitching with the sled of retorts forming at the back of your tongue.

“Who gave you the right to—"

But he’s already turning away from you, your eyes meeting with the red symbol of his vest once again.

“Hey don’t you fucking walk away from me!” you yell, going forward to stop him, but he saunters on ahead without turning back; his scent lingering in the air as you stand there, watching his figure disappear slowly along the hallway, your fury seething inside you.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

--------------------------------------------------

 “Thank you! This is just what I needed.” you chime, digging into the hot bowl of ramen in front of you, your mouth salivating just at the look of it.

You take a big mouthful, revelling in the immediate burst of flavours on your tongue.

“Mmmm.” You moan, “You’ve outdone yourself, Ayame!”

The young girl smiles at you in delight, proceeding to serve you another helping.

You take another blissful bite, closing your eyes to relish the moment.

The streets are quiet around you except for the faint chirp of crickets, as is expected at this hour of the night. It must be past midnight by now, you’re not exactly sure.

You had been tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. For some reason, the encounter with Kakashi from earlier today had you feeling bitter and edgy. You hated that he was in your head, you didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you to be this bothered by some mindless comments from someone. You’d had altercations before, worse ones, but they were never enough to steal away your night’s sleep.

And yet, this time…

You had to do something to take the edge off, ideally punch him in the face, but since that was not the plausible choice, you settled for the next best thing. Going for a run and treating yourself to your favourite comfort food later.  

So here you are now, out at night all by yourself. The Ichiraku shop was still open, bless the lords.

You slurp some of the soup from the bowl and let out a loud smack of your lips.

You can feel your spirits lifting, and you’re glad for it. He wasn’t in your head after all, you were just having a bad day, that’s all.

You shift your focus back to the bowl in front of you, moaning and slurping as you go.

“Whoa there, Get a room.”

The sudden interruption of the familiar voice makes you stop cold.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You look up from your bowl, turning your head around to see none other than Kakashi Hatake, standing smug in all his glory.

The strange pang of bitterness is back in the depths of your stomach and you resist the urge to punch that smug look off his face.

“Ah, if it isn’t Kakashi Hatake, the all-knowing wisenheimer.” you say, your tone snide. “Say, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Some genin to fail?”

He comes around to take a seat on the stool beside you, a smirk evident through his mask, almost as if he’s enjoying this.

“I’ve already failed them” he smiles sweetly at you. “Worked up quite an appetite too.” He says, looking away from you to place his order.

You notice as Ayame notes his order down, the distinct shade of pink that tinges her cheeks as does, before turning away and disappearing into the supplies room at the back of the shop.

Ugh. What is with this guy? Why is it so….

You don’t realise you’re staring at him until he looks back at you, raising a questioning eyebrow. You supress your startlement at being caught, pretending as if you’d meant to be glaring at him.

“What the hell are you even doing out here so late?” you spurt, trying to sound irritated but it comes out sounding almost…concerned?

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice. “I could ask you the same.”

You look away, unwilling to answer. You were out here to get him out of your head, and now here you are, sitting beside him in a ramen shop while the entire village sleeps.

It almost feels like you’re the only two people in the world. The feeling makes something churn inside your stomach.

You dab your mouth with your napkin, before swivelling on the stool to face him. You look at him intently, studying his features. He stares back at you, as if waiting for you to say something.

“Why?” you ask, catching him off guard with it.

“Why what?”

“Why does no one pass your test? What’s so difficult about it?” you ask, gaze fixated on him. You expect him to look uncomfortable but he just shrugs.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious” you reply truthfully, watching him smirk at your answer.  

You hate it when he smirks, how his face looks when he’s being cocky.

Ugh.

He swivels in his chair now, turning his body towards you. “Is that so?”, he says through the smirk, resting his elbow on the counter and leaning in.

You don’t know why, but something about his tone and the way he leans in makes it difficult for you to breathe all of a sudden.

But you’re not one to be fazed.

“Yes” you reply, refusing to let yourself crumple under his gaze. Your voice comes out sounding hoarse, and you clear your throat.

He smirks wider at your reply and stretches the next words out.

“If you’re so curious…Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Your heart thuds like clapper clanging against a bell. You resist the urge to gulp.

Was it this hot when I left the house?

You clear your throat again. “I don’t have the time to take part in your stupid games”

The smirk is adamant on his lips, his gaze unnerving.

He breathes, “Do you not have the time…or do you not have the balls?”

His tone is challenging. Or inviting. Or both, you’re not really sure, you’re not thinking straight anymore.

Your jacket is too hot against your skin, you writhe beneath the thick material.

Sliding off the stool, you walk slowly towards him, erasing the space in between you bit by bit with each step, until your bodies are a few inches away from touching. Your eyes bore into each other’s as if in silent battle. It’s your turn to smirk now.

“Training Grounds in 20 mins” you whisper. Despite the hitch in your breath, your voice is clear. “Don’t be late.”

You walk past him without breaking your gaze, brushing your shoulder against his arm as you walk by, perhaps a little harder than necessary, leaving Kakashi to stare after you.

--------------------------------------------------

You sit on the damp grass with your back against a tree, waiting. Your jacket lies in a puddle beside you.

You count the weapons in your bag, you hadn’t exactly come out prepared for a fight tonight. Two kunai knives, that’s all.

Would that be enough to take down the copy ninja? You hope so. There’s no way you’re letting him win. It’s time someone taught him a lesson and you would love to be that someone. The nerve of him…to actually challenge you.

He really needs to get a life. But then, here you are too…

Why am I here? What am I even doing?

You close your eyes and tilt your head back against the hard bark, your eyebrows furrowing the way they always do when you’re deep in thought.

Back at the shop… the way he spoke…the look in his eyes— God, Stop. Stop it.

Who the fuck cares about the look in his eyes?

Not me.

It’s okay. I’m good.

We’re here to teach this asshole a lesson. An asshole, that’s what he is. Insufferable and stupid and smug and ridiculously ho— horrible. Ridiculously horrible.

You take a deep breath, opening your eyes and standing up so fast that it makes your head dizzy for a brief second. You start walking around, jerking your arms and legs, stretching your neck, even slapping yourself a few times on the face to make yourself focus.

Yes, I need to focus. The lack of sleep is getting to me.

You crouch down to tighten your shoelaces, before getting up and starting some stretching exercises. Gotta loosen the muscles, make sure you have full flexibility. After all, taking on Kakashi Hatake all by yourself is probably not going to be a piece of cake.

You look down to check your attire: running shorts and a tank top, not fully ideal but it’ll do.

You’re bent over, in the midst of doing rotating toe touches when your eyes fall upon a silhouette far ahead, nearing closer and closer. You pause, standing up straight with your hands on your hips as the figure walks slowly towards you, a faint jingling noise ringing through the air, as Kakashi finally comes near enough for you to make out his face in the dim light.

“Late as always” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kakashi stands a few feet away from you, holding something in one hand, other hand inside his pocket. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore either, you observe.

“Sorry, had to go get this” he says, holding up what looks like two small bells with strings attached.

You squint at it, coming closer to get a better look. “What the hell is that?”

“Bells”, he smiles. “That’s the test. You have to get these bells from me. You can use any attack you want but… since you’re not a genin, I’ll raise the stakes a little higher for you. You cannot use ninjutsu or genjustu. It has to be purely physical attacks. You have till dawn.”

This little fucker. He knows taijutsu is not my strong point.

But fine. If that’s how he wants to play this, so be it. I’m taking him down one way or another.

“Dawn?” you chuckle, fixing him with your gaze. “I don’t need till dawn” you sneer, coming forward with a kick aimed to his head. He blocks it just as you’re about to make contact, grasping your ankle in his strong hold.

“I didn’t say start yet” he says through a smirk, letting go of your foot.

You take a few steps backwards, glowering at him as he ties the bells to a loop on his trousers. They hang over his thighs with a jingle, silver metal glimmering in the moonlight.

He looks back up at you, eyes twinkling with an unusual sparkle.

There’s that look again…

“Go” he commands, his body tensing up into a defensive stance immediately, ready for you.

You fix your gaze on the shiny metal of your goal and hurl yourself forward, your arms meeting each other’s in blows and defences. You throw a few kicks to his stomach, making him tumble but not enough to knock him out.

You shift your stance, before directing another punch to his face; he deflects it, sniggering.

Okay okay okay, I’m not focusing. I need to focus.

You take a deep breath.

Kakashi stands waiting, his features emanating pure amusement.

You feel a restlessness brewing within you, a strange energy buzzing through your veins. You’d been itching to punch him in the face and now’s your chance.

You watch him, mentally calculating all your options. His silver hair shines like moonbeams in the dark.

FOCUS.

Drawing a kunai from your bag, you lunge forward, distracting him with a kick to the head as your kunai slashes through the air, just about to cut across the strings when— your hand is caught in his grasp, a ‘slap!’ cutting through the air as his palm clasps around your wrist.

He bores into you, your wrist held firmly in his hand as he turns you around swiftly, gripping both your wrists at the back.

You feel the muscles of his chest against your body as he comes closer, the metal bells hanging over his leg brushing against your fingertips behind you.

You wriggle your hands, trying to break free but it’s in vain. His grip is firm, slender fingers digging into your skin as he leans into your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Not so fast” he whispers, his lips almost brushing the top of your ears.

The words send a shudder through your spine. You feel the black sky closing in on you, there’s a hum springing through your veins.

He loosens his grip as your hands fall, the kunai held limply in your hand. You turn around, your heart skipping a beat at how close he is to you. You feel your resolve weakening.

No.

No.

Stop.

Your hand flies to the collar of his shirt, the other hand holding the kunai to his throat as you push him backwards with your body, your eyes blazing into his.  

Keeping the kunai at his throat, you lower your other hand slowly, brushing it down his chest, his muscles taut under your hand. You trail your hand down along the line of his sternum, down the firmness of his stomach and further down, your fingers lightly caressing the bulge of his trousers before they almost make contact with the bells alongside, right there, just a flick away—

so close—

Before your wrist is caught in a sudden, fast clutch again.

His grip is much stronger this time, unyielding, hungry. Your bones ache beneath his hold.  

You watch something ignite in his eyes as his shoulders rise and fall in rhythm to your heaves. You suddenly realise how out of breath you are.

In the flash of a moment, Kakashi grips your kunai holding hand, holding it away from his throat as he pushes you, the weight of his body pressing onto yours as your feet scrape along the ground, stumbling backwards till your back slams against a tree, the force making your body jolt. The kunai slips from your hand.

His arms pin you defenceless against the tree, his gaze holding you hostage, burning through your skin.

The touch of his skin against yours feels alien. When was the last time you felt the warmth of someone’s skin? You cannot recall.

He’s so close to you, you cannot see anything beyond him.

In the dark, under the moonlight, the edges of his face look softened.

A wind passes by, the sound of rustling leaves filling through the silence. A volcano erupts within you.

Now.

You gulp. Up this close, you can make out the outline of his mouth.

Now.

Your lips press into Kakashi’s in a desperate lurch, your neck straining to meet him as far as his grip on you allows. Your heart explodes like firecrackers inside your chest as your tongue pushes against the cloth of his mask, demanding to be let in.

You feel his grip loosen around your wrists as the mask is off and he reciprocates, his lips on yours, his hand gripping your chin up as his tongue moves in fervent swirls inside your mouth.

A thousand questions swarm inside your head, buzzing but you’re not being controlled by your head anymore. You can feel the thud of his chest against your own.

He trails his hand down to your throat, holding you in place, other hand exploring every edge and curve of your body before it snakes down the waistband of your shorts, down the elastic of your underwear.

You gasp, arching your back as you feel the touch of his long fingers down there, moaning helplessly into his mouth as he rubs along your wet entrance in rapid strokes.

Your head is a dizzy mess of jumbled emotions as yearning overpowers your senses, your previous resolve weakening into a mushy puddle with every stroke and thrum of his fingers inside you.

He pulls away from your mouth to leave sloppy kisses down your neck, his tongue painting patterns along your skin as you catch a glimpse of his face and you see it— his face, glowing under the moonlight. And you realise.

He’s…beautiful.

An overwhelming ache breaks through your senses, creating a frenzied whirlwind of passion and agony in your mind. Your detestation for him crumbles into pieces underneath the weight of your desire, as you realise…

You don’t hate him.

You never did.

Not even close.

Not even a little bit.

Not even at all.

You pull his face up to meet your lips again, planting urgent kisses on his mouth as your hands tease the hem of his shirt. His fingers slip out of you and you can feel the wetness of your panties, soaked through with arousal.

“Kakashi…” you whisper in pleasure as he looms over you, your foreheads touching, out of breath and heaving with exhilaration. His eyes burn with the same passion that you feel inside.

“We can’t…shouldn’t…here…people...” you mutter in struggled breaths, as he plants another kiss to your lips, the sparks from it fogging your mind

“Since when do you care about people?” he whispers against your ear, his raspy voice enough to strip you off of all your remaining sense and judgement.

You pull his shirt over his head in one swift motion, throwing it to the ground beside as he follows, taking off your shirt and then unhooking your bra, tossing both away as his hands reach for you in hungry clutches.

His hands caress your breasts, pressing them and pulling on your hardened nipples, his mouth following soon after. His lips lock around them, sucking hard as you bury your face into his broad shoulders, biting lightly to keep yourself from screaming.

You sink your fingers into his hair, tugging softly as his mouth moves in a wet trail further down your body, strands of his hair tickling your stomach as he goes, his hands tugging your panties, sliding them down the curves of your hips.

Your heart thuds in your ears as Kakashi sits crouching in front of you, parting your legs. He looks up at you, as if asking for your permission, and you give it to him by pulling the back of his head closer between your legs.

He puts your right leg over his shoulder, spreading you for him, his other hand clutching the back of your left thigh as his mouth teases you down there.

The tip of his tongue flicks at your entrance, before it finds your weakest spot, and you feel your body shuddering, barely able to keep your balance.

You tug at his hair harder as his tongue moves skilfully inside you, fingers rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously. You feel every nerve ending in your body come alive as you moan out his name “K-Kakashi…” through trembling lips.

Your insides shudder and a deep moan forms at the back of your throat, threatening to escape as Kakashi puts his hand over your mouth, before pulling you down on top of him with a sudden tug.  

You come down with a thud on his thighs, your body jolting with the force as you watch him in front of you, the copy ninja… bare bodied and heaving in front of your eyes.

Who would have thought…

You straddle him, admiring his unclad torso, before pushing his shoulders down with your hands, making him lie back on the grass as you stoop over him. His eyes are fixated on you, pure pleasure making itself known on his face.

He really is beautiful.

You bend forward, your mouth exploring the smoothness of the skin on his chest, as a strange cold feeling down there distracts you.

You look down, squinting in the dark to find yourself sitting on two glimmering metal balls placed over his thigh.

The bells.

A thrill runs through your nerves as you smirk, glancing up at him.

He’s noticed it too.

His eyes return the same sparkle of mischief as yours as he lies still, waiting.

You press your hands down on his chest, locking your gaze with his as you position yourself over the bells, tilting your head back as you move back and forth over them.

The cold metal of the bells rubs against you, sending tremors through your entire body.

Your gaze at Kakashi again, watching him squirm at the sight of you, his hands twitching to feel your skin.

You keep your eyes on him as you slide down slightly on his thigh, tugging his trousers down as you go. Your hands find the base of his cock as you allow yourself to admire his throbbing length.

He leans his head back on the grass and you feel him getting harder in your hands.

Forming your hand into a fist around him, you move it up and down along his shaft in slow steady strokes, leaning down to bring your mouth closer to his tip, before swirling your tongue in circles around his skin.

His hips tremble as he clutches onto the grass, writhing.

Your lips clasp around his cock, mouth slurping up and down his length, taking your time sliding down to the base and back up, your hands following suit.

You tease him, switching between the tip of your tongue and your whole mouth, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

He quivers and you sit back up, bending forward over his face and pressing your lips on his. A groan from his mouth erupts inside yours as he clutches your hips.

His hands guide your hips back and forth over his length, your lips trembling as he slips into you, his cock finally inside you, pushing into you, filling you as deep as you can be filled.

A new rush of pleasure burns through your senses, your insides stretching as you move your hips around him, back and forth and then in circles.

“A-a-ah...mm…yeah…”, your muffled moans cut through the depths of the forest in the silence of the night.

Kakashi breathes your name, the eruption of your name from his lips enough to send you to a frenzy, filling your heart with drunken fervour.

You moan his name back in reply, hopping up and down on him as his arm snakes behind your waist and he flips you over in a sudden, swift movement, the weight of his body falling over you now.

You arch your back, pushing your hips up to meet his, unwilling to break away even for a second.

You want him so, so bad.

The pointy peaks of grass underneath poke your skin, your nails digging into his back as he nibbles on your neck, thrusting deep, deep into you.

You feel the familiar shudder from earlier again, your mind getting clouded with waves of pleasure coursing through you. Kakashi’s grunts quaver in your ear as you feel his hips jerk in tune to yours.

There’s a tantalizing jolt of ecstasy through your body as you scream out, your quivering voice matching his grunts as you both put a hand over the other’s mouth, your muffled moans melting into each other’s skin. He quivers inside you for a final time before you feel him slipping out of you, as hot wet cum trickles along the insides of your thighs, dripping into the dewy grass beneath.

Droplets of sweat from his hair drips down on you, tasting salty in your mouth. You heave together in exhaustion as he plops down on you, before rolling to the side.

You lie on your back panting, your entire body damp with sweat.

Languor threatens to take over you as you struggle to keep your eyes open, looking up into the night sky.

You see a firefly glowing above your head. You lift a lazy hand to reach it, but it flies away far above, becoming one with the twinkling stars in the sky.

Soft sounds of Kakashi’s breath echo beside you, his foot still touching yours lightly as the both of you lie heaving under the stars.

He turns his head to look at you and you can feel his eyes on you as you try, with all the fibres in your body, to not look back at him.

You know you won’t be able to hold yourself together any longer if you do.

He extends a hand towards you. “That was…”

“Sshhh… Shut up” you say in a slumberous whisper, moving closer into his arm, putting your own around him, your head buried into chest as you feel your eyes getting heavy…not able to stay awake anymore. You feel Kakashi envelope you in his arms, the warmth from his skin against the cold air lulling you to sleep, your mind becoming foggy as you close your eyes, slowly drifting off somewhere far, far away…

--------------------------------------------------

Your eyes open to the chirping of birds perched on the branches above, rays of morning light casting a rosy glow in the horizon.

You watch the half light in the distance, rubbing your eyes, smiling to yourself.

The night had taken with it the black clouds of denial fogging your mind, your heart is as clear as day now.

You turn your head just in time to see Kakashi opening his eyes, his eyes puffy, imprints of grass marking his soft cheek.

You smile at him as he looks at you, lips curled into a sleepy smile. “Good morning” he yawns, tapping over his mouth with his palm.

“I won.”

“Hmm?” he asks groggily, eyes still adjusting to the light.

You hold up the two small bells in front of him, they jingle over his face.

He chuckles. “I don’t think so. It’s past dawn”

“I took them off before. I won.”

He laughs again, his face lighting up in a way you’d never seen before. He looks even more beautiful in the daylight.

“In all fairness y/n, there are no losers here.”

You laugh along with him now, reaching across and smoothening the imprints on his cheek, keeping your hand there, cupping his cheek.

“So, I passed?” you ask, looking at him, inching closer.

He looks back at you, with the same look from earlier in his eyes.

But you’re not turning yourself blind to it anymore.

“Top of the class” he laughs, pulling you closer, nuzzling your nose with his before pressing his lips into yours.

Notes :-

Did I quote 10 Things I Hate About You on a Kakashi Smut?

Yes, yes i did.

[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[babytaes]

†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol), 

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

 “So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter,  I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung. 

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.” 

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later 

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.” 

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

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