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ja3yun · 5 months

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Stitch Me Up | L.HS

underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!

wc: 4.5k+

synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time

a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm

Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.

No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying.

You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.

Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do.

Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life.

You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.

You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance.

Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.

When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.

A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.

You miss him.

Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind.

The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.

After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.

Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.

What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?

Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.

As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.

Another knock.

Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape.

So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.

The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.

“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.

Heeseung.

You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.

“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?”

He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.

A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.

“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.

“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.

Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”

You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.

“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.

“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”

“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened?

You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.”

That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.

You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?”

“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny.

Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.

He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.”

You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”

Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.

As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”

“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you.

For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did.

A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that.

“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.

When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten.

The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life.

So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.

However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity.

“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”

“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”

Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”

“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.

Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.

“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.

“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”

He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”

“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand.

Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act.

But this isn’t how it is now.

“Heeseung.” You warn him.

He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.

“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”

“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”

It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore.

“It’s not about missing you Heese-”

“I’ll quit.”

You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.”

Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”

“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”

Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”

Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”

He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.

Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.

“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.

You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on.

Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.

“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”

You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.

Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.”

To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”

This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved.

Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”

You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.

“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more.

He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.”

Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again.

Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.

“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.

Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.

He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable.

“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly.

Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.

Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.

His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now.

Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.

Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.

“Yeah? How bad?”

“I’m starving for it.”

The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.

You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.

Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.

Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.

He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.”

After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.

“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”

“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.

“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”

You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.”

And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.

“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.

“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”

Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.

This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened.

Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”

“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.

“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.”

Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”

“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.”

You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”

He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.”

Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.

He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”

“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.

Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.

#enha smut #enhypen smut #heeseung #heeseung smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #aj writes #posted it early bc i'm feeling generous #enhypen angst

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onlyhuis · 6 months

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love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now.

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week.

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you.

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t).

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you.

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own.

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you.

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out.

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic.

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks.

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day.

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all.

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away.

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong.

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh.

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands.

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder.

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach.

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin.

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out.

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin.

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back.

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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2K notes · View notes

marlenesluv · 2 months

Note

Hullo, hope you're doing okay. I was wondering if I could request a smau with Carlos.

Y/N is an upcoming but less known film scriptwriter and has a significant age gap from him (6-7 years younger than him). A lot of fans bully cause she's a struggler in Hollywood and not your typical model either. (she doesn't make the effort to look good for Carlos they say)

There is an Oscar winning film but her credit was taken away and fans finally support her (something dramátic like this idkk your choice!!) ty tho <3

Doesn’t Come Easy. (CS)

note: hi, i’m doing well, i hope you are too :) and yes, i love this sm!! i hope you enjoy! (no summary for this, j read the rec lol!)

pairing: carlos sainz x film scriptwriter!reader!fem. carlos is 29 and reader is 22.

fc: alani (alanikaii on insta)

warnings: fairly aggressive hate comments (happy ending tho)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and 47,104 others

y/n.user: lots of work this week☕️📝

view comments…

carlossainz55: cariño❤️❤️

↳ y/n.user: ❤️❤️

user7: not the messy bun pictures 💀

f1wags: no one could ever make me hate y/n, wtf is wrong with you guys??

vroom99posts: the lack of effort she puts in to talking with the other wags, making herself presentable…why is he even with her?

user2: “work” is making up little movies? nope, babe

cschili55: facecard = 0

y/nhatepage: get this guy OUT. ain’t no way he’s happy with her…

user4: the way carlos doesn’t even defend her in these comments LMAOOOO

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 39,027 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

Claire @claireblogsstuff8 •2hr ago

It’s about time someone made one of these threads:

Why we don’t like Y/n Y/l/n, Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend..:

Reason 1: She makes no effort to look good for him or the cameras. The only clothing she wears to the paddock is jeans, sweats, tee’s, and tennis shoes. Other wags give us dresses, skirts, like?? Try harder.

Reason 2: Y/n and Carlos have a 7 year age gap… This one speaks for itself………

Reason 3: Her job makes no money, shes mooching off Carlos. Being a film scriptwriter is great, if you’re actually good. Which she’s not.

Reason 4: She makes zero effort to be friends with the other wags. As a girlfriend, you should try and connect with your boyfriends friends girlfriends. She just ignores them on race weekends and it’s rude and lazy.

Reason 5: Y/n has no career in her field.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: carlossainz55, landonorris, and 63,248 others

y/n.user: little 5 year old me would be so excited that i’m finally able to say: my film script that i’ve worked four years on perfecting is finally in the works and being casted and filmed!🥹 this is surreal. i’m going to go cry some more.

view comments…

carlossainz55: hermosa❤️❤️ you’re amazing. i love you

↳ y/n.user: i love you more carlos❤️❤️

user3: uhhuh….

landonorris: CONGRATULATIONS 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

↳ y/n.user: TY LANDO!!!!

f1editpics: mmmm it’s gonna be soo bad😭

f1wags: GO Y/N‼️🫶

yourbsf: i’m so proud of you, i love you🫶

↳ y/n.user: i love you so much🫶

user5: mhmmm, we all know where this will lead😐 FAIL

formula1edit: nahhhh💀

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, lewishamilton, and 2,945,019 others

carlossainz55: Where do I even begin? Y/n, my world, my bestfriend, my soulmate. Ever since we met in Spain 4 years ago, I knew you knew what you wanted. When you told me your dreams, you didn’t expect them to become reality. Yet, here we are. I’m so proud of you, cariño. Te quiero❤️

view comments…

y/n.user: carlos🥹i couldn’t have done any of it without you. te quiero, amor❤️

↳ carlossainz55: ❤️❤️❤️

f1wags: UGH they’re so cute idcccc

user8: i still don’t think it’ll be good. and when tf is she gonna up her game bro

charles_leclerc: congrats y/n!!

↳ y/n.user: thanks charles!

user1: the way this film will flop and then he’ll break up with her💀

cs0ln0: sloppy, yawning, boring

user9: naurrrr🤧

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

F1 Gossip Blog Post:

Goodmorning…I have no entrance for you, because I am shook to the core today. It has been about a year since Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n, went to the movie premiere of the movie she wrote.

Today I woke up and saw something that shocked me! Last night, this movie won an Oscar, but Y/n was no where to be found. She didn’t attend the awards and she wasn’t even credited.

The petty “I don’t like her” needs to stop. We need to support her, she’s talented, smart, and yes, beautiful. Us, as fans, don’t know how hers and Carlos’ relationship is. Although I would assume pretty good… (via the recent paparazzi photos, lol)

Her credit being taken away is awful, and shouldn’t be glossed over. Sign the petition at the bottom of this post to support Y/n, and bring attention to the fact that this film happened because of HER!

sign here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 167,204 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: carlossainz55, lilymhe, and 345,024 others

y/n.user: First off, I want to say thank you to Carlos for being the most patient, loving, and kind boyfriend. I see the “she’s not good enough for him” comments and the hate posts. Carlos doesn’t say anything because I simply don’t want him to. I can’t even count the amount of times I have to tell him to not respond. Judging a relationship you know nothing about is silly.

I also want to say thank you to the other wags for being patient and understanding with me. I do hangout with them, I just keep that private. Not everything needs to be aired out on social media.

A huge thank you to fans of Carlos’ that have supported me and my journey with this film. I appreciate all the kind messages throughout the process of writing and even now with the Oscars.

Thank you to my family and friends, for supporting me from when I was a little girl watching movies and pretending I was in said movie for a week straight, writing alternate endings and embarrassing you at theaters.

There’s nothing that can be done about what happened with my credit for the movie at the Oscars. It’s unfortunate, but true.

Oh, also, Carlos and I got a puppy. His name is Calvin, that’s all.

view comments…

*comments have been limited by the creator of this post*

carlossainz55: I love you, cariño❤️

lilymhe: here for you🫶🫶

landonorris: keep your head up, dude😁 miss you!

maxfewtrell: cute dog!! loved the movie too, goat film writer

francisca.cgomes: love you!!💖

charles_leclerc: amazing film, you’re so talented🙏

lailahasanovic: prettiest girl made the best film and is living her best life 🥰

carmenmmundt: keep your head up!! george and i send hugs🫶💓

danielricciardo: you’re slaying with this post💅

alexandrasaintmleux: ❤️❤️

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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y/n.user: back to writing🙃 #quentintarantinoishelpingmewiththisscript

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↳ y/n.user: ….what has gotten into him?

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↳ y/n.user: *cough* lestappen *cough*

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↳ alexandrasaintmleux: AHAHA i live for lestappen

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated! ^-^)

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bvidzsoo · 22 days

Text

♡Boyfriend!Wooyoung♡

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

TW: none

Word count: 678

Genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship, bullet points, non-idol!au

A/N: Hello, anonie, I see that you have sent the request to my other blog, which I use for rebloging my favorite works (something that I haven't been doing for a long time lol I have to pick up on it again) I'd like to clarify that I don't take requests, sorry guys, but I simply don't have the time rn and I usually struggle coming up with anything unless it's my own idea lol. And if you do send a request, it might take a long time for me to write it, my apologies. This story is in bulletpoints, just letting you know. Hope you enjoy it! ^^

it had been a long day

too long, actually

normally, tackling a long day of work and going to your Pilates class too wouldn't have made you so exhausted

but you were sick, very, apparently

you had spent the weekend up in the mountains last weekend, at your boyfriend's best friend's weekend cabin and it was rather cold

so naturally, you caught a cold

but life doesn't stop there, no matter how unwell you felt

you still had a job...a very demanding one, at that

and you had just picked up more shifts last week, unknowing of the predicament you'd find yourself in after your little trip

so now, by the time you had reached home at the end of the day, you had no power left in your body

your head was dizzy and you were grateful you managed to get home without crashing your car, but walking up the stairs to your apartment felt like an eternity, and it was horrible

as you fiddled for your keys, on the verge of tears as your whole body was burning up, you became aware of the music coming through the front door, and you boyfriend belting out high notes alongside it

and as you finally unlock the door and push it open, you're met with your boyfriend standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt reaching past his naked thighs and knee-high socks he uses when playing football with his friends after a long working day

and oh, he's holding a wooden spoon, looking completely off-thrown by your arrival

he misjudged the time and thought you wouldn't be home for another hour

now you'd have to wait for dinner, and that's not how he had planned your date night to go

which was a surprise that Wooyoung came up with last minute

you stare at Wooyoung for a second, before dropping everything from your hands and kneeling, holding your head in your hands, tears finally springing from your eyes

Wooyoung is flabbergasted and immediately rushes to your side, dropping the wooden spoon on the small coffee table in the process

he's by your side in an instant, cradling your head to his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead before he's wiping your tears away, making you finally feel at ease despite the headache, dizziness, and nausea you're feeling

Wooyoung is your pillar when you're feeling even the slightest bit off and he certainly understands that what you need right now are silence, a warm bath, and some painkillers, of course

and so just like that, he helps you up and walks you to your bedroom, leaves you on the bed to discard of your clothes and goes prepare the bath for you

and once you are done with the bath, feeling slightly better as your head isn't pulsating so much anymore, Wooyoung surprises you by bringing dinner to bed, of which you can't eat too much now, but it'll be good in the morning

and then Wooyoung gives you some water and you take the painkillers and before he could go and let you rest, you grab Wooyoung's wrist and offer him a small smile

and he understands without you saying anything

and so, he shuts off all lights in the apartment before joining you in bed, and because you don't want him to catch a cold, he becomes the small spoon as you burry your head into his back, holding onto him tightly

and suddenly all your worries melt away, and today doesn't seem so grim anymore

your head is still thumping, and your nose is still stuffy, and you think your fever is finally going down

but what matters most, is your boyfriend being by your side and humming quietly, tracing your skin gently with his fingers, your right arm resting around his torso, feeling safe

far away from the exhausting world and demanding assignments from your work

and you know you'll feel a lot better by the morning, all thanks to your lovable boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung

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writeonwhiskey · 23 days

Text

the skz house: ch 15 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i apologize for the delay. my work schedule goes back to normal next month so i'll have my head back on straight then. thank you for your patience! i hope you enjoy the chapter :)

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter fourteen here ]

Chapter Fifteen: Of Showers and Cabins

Tuesday, November 14th

You’re in the living room with Han, Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Changbin and Charlotte. Han gathered you all to practice an upcoming presentation for his public speaking class. As you watch him discuss his chosen topic of Greek Mythology (accompanied by a PowerPoint on the TV behind him), you wonder when his nerves are going to set in, when he’s going to slip up or stumble over his words—he never does. None of the members interject, taunt or tease him.

Han is confident in front of them. Perhaps because of them. He has no problem being the center of attention in the house, around his friends. On his own in front of strangers must be another thing entirely, apparently.

After he’s finished, the boys offer suggestions on things he could make clearer or that are not necessary to mention. You’ve seen how they operate together—typically silly beyond belief but at the end of the day, they’re always there for each other. Still, it surprises you how gentle they are with him, knowing he’s facing something that makes him uncomfortable.

Han thanks everyone for their time before sitting on the sectional between Changbin and Felix, and with his very next breath says how much he does not want to do this.

“If you bomb it, just remember you’ll probably never see those people again after you graduate,” Changbin tries to console him.

“Maybe not,” Han replies. “But they will have an embarrassing memory of me etched into their brain forever, if I do.”

“We could come sit in the back of the class,” Hyunjin offers. “For moral support.”

Hyunjin is laying down on the couch, legs resting on Changbin’s thighs and his head on your lap as you play with his hair. Jeongin and Charlotte are on the other side of you, cuddled together and in their own little world now.

“Please don’t do that.” Han shakes his head.

“Just relax…don’t overthink it,” Felix tells him, shrugging.

“Easy for you to say,” Han rolls his eyes. “If I, too, had a voice made for smutty audiobooks, I’d probably be giving speeches every day for fun.”

Changbin laughs, “He has a point, ‘Lix. Give us a ‘that’s my good girl’.”

Felix smiles devilishly, eyebrows raised as he leans across Han and motions with his finger for Changbin to come closer. In the deepest, most sultry tone you’ve ever heard from him he says, “That’s my fucking good girl.”

Changbin wiggles his body, as if shivers are running through him and Felix lets out a boisterous laugh.

“Just get through it,” Felix leans back and returns his attention to Han, “and next week we’ll have a nice break at the cabin.”

“Cabin?” You ask.

“Oh, shit,” Hyunjin says, looking up at you and offers a weak smile. “I forgot to tell you.”

You smack him on the head, and he flinches.

“They just decided on it a few days ago,” he attempts to defend himself.

“For Thanksgiving weekend,” Felix informs you. “It’s maybe about an hour and a half away from here. But if you’re going home to visit family that’s fine, of course.”

You hadn’t gone home for Thanksgiving since freshman year. It’s too short of a time span, with most of it spent in the airport. And God forbid there are delays.

“No, I hadn’t planned to,” you tell him.

“Good. ‘Cause I make an amazing peach cobbler,” he does the chef’s kiss motion. “You wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You look down at Hyunjin, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“I’m sorry?” He attempts puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, you will be. Sorry and broke.” You retort.

Thursday, November 16th

You’ve returned home from your morning class and it’s no surprise Hyunjin is still sleeping. You’re in the girls’ room doing homework and waiting for him to wake up. Rhiannon is in the den with you, click-clacking away on her keyboard. The others are either in class or out of the house.

It’s nearly 1:00pm when you receive a text from Hyunjin.

Are you not back yet?

It makes you smile—picturing him waking up in bed alone, knowing you should be back from school by now and expecting you to be there, snuggling up with him.

I’m in the den, doing homework.

You sleep too much.

No such thing. I’m gonna hop in the shower…lunch when I’m out?

Of course. I got you.

And yes, you do. You have him. You will whip him up a lunch of his choosing, after business is handled. Now that half the members are out of the competition, you don’t think he’ll object as heavily to losing. You’ve been waiting for this day—you know his Thursday routine. He sleeps in, showers, eats, then goes to class. Now is the perfect time to take action.

“Rhi,” you call out to her, spinning around in your chairs.

“Hmm?” Is her reply, but she doesn’t take her gaze away from her computer screen.

“I’m going up now.”

She finally turns around to look at you, “You got this.” She gives you a thumbs up and a wink.

You exit the den and head upstairs. You’re not sure if this is allowed, but there was never anything said about areas of the house specifically being off limits to the girls. You’d never seen or caught any of the members in the girl’s bathroom with their assignees, though.

When you make it to the second floor, you hear music playing at the end of the hall. You tiptoe towards the bathroom and can hear the shower water running, too. You take a deep breath as you turn the doorknob, hoping that your calculations of who’s home and who’s away is correct. Since the boys also share a bathroom, you have to pray that Hyunjin is alone.

You tentatively step inside, peeking your head in first to make sure no one else is there. The coast is clear and Hyunjin is already in the shower, thankfully. Their bathroom is set up exactly like the girls—multiple sinks, showers, and separate rooms for the toilets. The glass surrounding the shower is fogged up, keeping your entrance a secret. You quietly close and lock the door behind you.

Hyunjin is obliviously singing along to the Mac Miller song blaring from the speaker. You quickly slip out of your clothes and set them in a pile on the sink before making your way to the shower door.

You grip the handle and gently pull the door open. Hyunjin is standing directly under the showerhead with his back towards you. His head is tilted back, eyes shut as the water pours over him. You have a fraction of a second to enjoy the sight because as soon as the cold air hits him he whips around, screams and holds his hands up in defense.

You immediately burst into laughter.

“Y/N,” he says, exhaling lightly when realization sets in that it’s you.

You enter the shower and close the door behind you, sealing the steam and warmth back in. He’s leaning against the wall, hand now over his chest and just completely…exposed. You don’t let the opportunity to run your eyes over his body pass.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” you say with a small shrug and smile.

He clicks his tongue, “Liar.”

He pushes away from the wall, standing under the water again. You step around him, positioning yourself between him and the shower wall.

“This is it, huh?” He asks, seeing the look in your eyes.

You nod in response and start to lower yourself to your knees.

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head and grabs your waist to stop you.

He pulls you up so you’re standing and covers your mouth with his. His tongue glides over your lips and your eyes flutter shut as you relax and let him take the lead. You don’t have to worry about what comes next with him. You know he’s about to make you feel like you never existed until you met him.

“You first,” he says, breaking the kiss.

He backs you up against the wall and gets down on his knees. You step your legs further apart to allow him better access. He slides one hand up your stomach to cup your breast, pinching your nipple and watching with a smile as you push your hips forward in an attempt to get his mouth right where you want it.

He doesn’t make you wait. He latches on to your pussy with his mouth and your hands immediately go to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling at the roots. You lean your head back against the wall and let out a sigh, feeling his tongue slide back and forth, up and down between your folds.

You hadn’t exactly been fucking your ex every single day, however since moving into the SKZ house you’d grown accustomed to some kind of regular sexual activity. You hadn’t gone more than seven days without it since being here. It’s been sixteen, and it felt like an eternity.

You turn your gaze down to Hyunjin. He’s focused on the task at hand as the water cascades down his back. With your hands still in his hair, you press him against you harder, rocking your hips against his face. He chuckles at this. His other hand slips between your legs to find your opening and pushes two fingers inside of you.

“You missed me, jagiya?” He murmurs, looking up at you with those smiling brown eyes.

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

“Good,” he places a kiss on your clit then returns his focus to fucking you with his fingers and playing with your breasts, your nipples.

One, maybe two, songs play out on the speaker as he continues to pleasure you. Alternating from using his fingers to his mouth, never seeming to grow tired of the work he’s putting in. You want to let him finish; you want to come standing over him like this. But you need him to fuck you.

Sure, he’s technically out of the game now due to his actions. You’ve got to see this through, though, to make sure he’s out-out.

You release the hairs on his head and grab his wrist to stop him. You motion for him to stand, and he does, popping his fingers in his mouth to lick your juices off. He kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You push him away and turn around, pressing your chest against the wall and turning your head to the side. You arch your back, pushing your ass against him. He reaches up to move the shower head out of the way a bit as his other hand rubs his dick up and down your slit. He revels in the feeling for a moment, teasing you.

When his dick reaches your opening, he thrusts his hips forward and you moan at the feel of him inside of you, arching your back even more.

“Fuck,” he says, shaking his head as he holds your hips still. “I’m not sure how long—”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “You can make it up to me.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

He starts fucking you—pulling out, thrusting in. Gripping your hips, your breasts, hands wandering all over your body. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do, but it’s been so long he wants to do it all.

One hand makes its way down around your waist to stimulate your clit, rubbing circles as he continues thrusting. He leans forward and showers your back in the sweetest, softest kisses. Combined with everything else and how long it’s been, it’s enough. Your palms are flat against the shower wall, helping you push your hips back against him. You feel your legs start to shake and Hyunjin gets the hint. He doesn’t change anything he’s doing, knowing what you’re feeling right now is what will make you come.

“Fuck, fuck,” he exhales heavily as your pussy clenches around his dick. He can’t hold back any longer. He thrusts into you with reckless abandon, gripping your hips as he releases himself into you.

When he’s done, he wraps his arm under your breasts and pulls you back against him. He moves the showerhead back in place, so the warm water falls over both of you.

“Fine. I guess I’ll do the dishes for you,” he jokes, leaning down to rest his cheek against yours.

“At least you don’t have to hold back anymore,” you reply.

“That’s true. I want you in the room ready for me when I’m back from class.”

You turn your head to look at him—he’s smiling.

He had never demanded such a thing before. Not that it’s much of a demand…more of a request. Close enough for Hyunjin.

Thanksgiving Weekend

Thursday, November 23rd

The house is just as chaotic as you imagined it would be this morning. Twelve people up before the crack of dawn loading cars with food and luggage while still half asleep. Chan instructs you and the other girls to leave first in the car with all the food to get started on the meal. He plugs in the address on the GPS and then you’re off.

The roads are relatively empty, so the drive takes just about an hour and a half. The last fifteen minutes are spent off the main road, driving slowly up a rocky path surrounded by trees.

“Now that’s a cabin,” Rhiannon says as you park the car.

It looks like a log cabin in that the exterior and pillars are all made of wood, except the top portion of the home is triangular with wooden awnings on the sides that cover the wraparound porch on the second level. There are several large windows with no coverings—probably a good thing the location is remote, so no one has to worry about neighbors looking in. In the front yard is a patio table and fire pit surrounded by chairs.

You all exit the car and start lugging the food to the front door. You enter the code on the keypad Chan had texted you and it unlocks.

The interior holds up the log cabin feel with a wide, open floor plan, but all the furniture and appliances make it feel modern. You all momentarily abandon the food at the door to explore the inside. There are four bedrooms, one downstairs and three on the second level, the third level has a loft with a computer desk and ping pong table.

You wonder if this is a rental property or if the SKZ fraternity owns it. You wouldn’t be shocked by the latter, but it’s none of your business.

After touring the cabin, the four of you get back to business and haul the food inside to start prepping the meal. The menu is a mix of traditional American and Korean food for the holiday.

When the boys arrive an hour later, they’ve stopped for a few essentials—mainly alcohol. They unload all the luggage then crowd in the kitchen and start debating over who will sleep where.

“Room Roulette?” Han suggests.

“Assignees and their members?” Jeongin says, winking at Charlotte.

“You’re already out—of course you want that,” Lee Know rebuffs while vigorously working on stuffing the turkey.

“Don’t think you can resist?” Allie asks, to which he rolls his eyes.

She still hasn’t been able to get him to break, but she’s been persistent.

“Ladies choice?” Hyunjin offers as he comes up behind you, standing at the stove, and wraps his hands around your waist.

You nudge him away playfully with your shoulder, but he stays put a moment longer, kissing the back of your neck.

“Does it really matter?” Changbin speaks up. “Everyone will just fall asleep wherever anyways.”

They continue back and forth until they’ve all had enough and just stare at Chan to make a decision.

He points to Jeongin, Han and Hyunjin, “Kai bai bo.”

The three of them stand on separate sides of the island and begin playing rock, paper, scissors. Han is out first. Before Hyunjin and Jeongin start, Jeongin has Charlotte kiss his hands for luck. It must work, because Hyunjin loses.

Jeongin grins, heart melting dimples on display, and gives a satisfied nod.

“That’s settled then—assignees and their members,” Chan announces.

You’re still focused on the food you’re cooking, but you want so badly to turn and look at Chan to see his expression. Sharing a room with him and Hyunjin? Is he happy with the result?

The rest of the afternoon is spent with everyone helping make something. When it’s finally time for dinner, you sit between Hyunjin and Chan. You’re thankful to be here with all of them. You think back to what Chan said on your first day at the house—that you’d gain a sense of community, and you really have.

The room assignment winds up being a nonfactor. Everyone is so full and damn near comatose that, true to Changbin’s words, they fall asleep wherever they land. You wake up on the couch in the living room and make your way back to the room, but neither Hyunjin nor Chan are there.

The next day, everyone kind of does their own thing. You go hiking with Hyunjin and a few others while everyone else stays at the house. That night, after dinner, everyone is gathered in the living room drinking and playing games. Or at least you thought everyone was. Looking around the room, you don’t see Chan.

He was here earlier, you’re certain. Where had he gone off to?

It’s closing in on the end of the month and Chan and Lee Know are the only ones that have not yet lost the competition. The others are preoccupied with their game, so you decide to go find him. Time is running out for the month, you’re extremely aware of that. And you have a little bit of liquid courage on your side now.

You take another shot of the strawberry flavored soju before getting up from the couch. He’s not in the kitchen, dining room, or the porch. You make your way up to the room you’ve been assigned on the second floor.

There he is.

He’s laying on the bed on his stomach, scrolling through his phone when you walk in. At the sound, he promptly turns around and sits up.

“Are you bored of us?”

“Nah,” he says lightly. “Just don’t wanna get too drunk again.”

Meaning he doesn’t want to lose control of himself or say anything he might regret again, you assume.

“Would you mind some company?”

You sit next to him on the bed, draping one leg over his and looking up at him with a lazy, tipsy smile.

“PG company?” He chuckles lightly, placing his hand on your leg.

“PG-13, maybe?” You counter, sliding his hand up towards your thigh.

The feel of his fingertips gliding across your skin sends an achy feeling to your core. You want to him to press his fingers against your clit to release the ache.

He smiles back at you and hooks a finger under your chin to pull your face closer to his. Since that day in the closet, he had at least been more open to semi-steamy make out sessions but always pulled away before you could go too far.

You close the distance between you, locking your lips with his as you swing your other leg across him to straddle him. He allows it. You wrap your arms around his neck as you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue past his lips. You can taste the alcohol on him, too, but it’s faint. Maybe you should have brought some in here. It still counts even if he’s drunk, right?

In any other context, that sounds terrible.

You start to rock your hips against him, moaning when you feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants. His hands suddenly grip your hips to hold you in place.

“Chan, please,” you whisper. You kiss along his cheek, down to his neck, lightly nipping with your teeth. “I miss you fucking me.”

“No,” he says, but it sounds half-assed, not even half of the conviction you know he can muster. He shakes his head but his cock pressing against your thighs say otherwise. You grind against it again.

“It’s just a stupid competition,” you attempt your best pouty face. You’ve never known these antics to work with him, but you’re pulling at straws now.

“It’s more than that for me,” he replies softly.

“You have to win?”

“I have to resist.”

You furrow your brow.

“Please?” You slip your hand between your legs and squeeze his cock.

He sucks in a breath and in one swift motion, moves you off him and stands up. Before you can even get another word out, he’s walking towards the door, shutting it not so quietly behind him.

You sigh, running your hand through your hair. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed so much, so fast. You have six days left to get to him and right now, it feels like an impossible task. You knew he could hold back, but his words made it seem like it’s more than that. Resisting? Resisting what? You?

You sit for a while, wondering if he’ll come back and why this seems like such a big deal to him. After a few minutes you stand in defeat and walk to the door. As you reach for the knob, the door swings open again, startling you.

Chan is there, ushering a confused Hyunjin into the room.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks you, sounding concerned.

“Yeah? I’m fine.”

Hyunjin turns back to look at Chan with a confused look on his face.

Chan shrugs, his eyes move from you back to Hyunjin, “Y/N needs you.”

There’s something about his tone of voice that you can’t quite pin down. He sounds…dejected almost.

You try to make sense of Chan’s thought process. You plead with him to fuck you and he won’t…so he gets the next best thing in his mind? He knows you’re turned on, that you need him, but he can’t—won’t—give in. So he brings the only other person that can satisfy you right now. Why does it feel like a slap in the face, though? With his tone and the look on his face it’s as if he’s saying, you wanna be fucked so bad? Here’s Hyunjin.

Hyunjin turns back to you and smiles lazily. He reaches for your waist, pulls you to him and kisses you. You’re still surprised by what is playing out, eyes open, looking at Chan with Hyunjin’s lips on yours. Chan breaks eye contact and turns his head as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You shut your eyes and try your best to shake the thoughts of Chan and focus on Hyunjin. It doesn’t take much trying on your part, truthfully. You could lose yourself in trying to solve the puzzle that is Chan. The only solace from the madness he conjures up inside of you is the man still standing in front of you. The one who hasn’t left.

“How can I be of service?” Hyunjin asks, nuzzling at your neck.

You can’t help but smile at his words, his actions. He’s always ready to please you and it’s never been complicated.

Sunday, November 26th

Chan did not come back to the room that night. He didn’t sleep in the room with you and Hyunjin the entire weekend, as a matter of fact. His behavior with you throughout the day was the same as usual, though. It didn’t appear that he was upset. He even joked around with you and offered a seat on his lap when all the other chairs on the patio were taken. He’s really acting like he has something to prove by abstaining this month, and you really wish you knew what it was.

Maybe you’re thinking too deeply about it…but how can you not? You also don’t want to ruin the growth you’ve made with him, so you don’t bring it up. You do, however, have a plan to hopefully end this silly competition once and for all. To see if you can push him over the edge.

After you arrive home in the afternoon, Chan leaves with some of the other members to run an errand and you know that this is your moment. Hyunjin is somewhat surprised when you tell him you’ll be staying with Chan for the night. He doesn’t question it, just kisses your forehead and says he’ll see you tomorrow.

You shower and take the items you’ll need to Chan’s room and set up as quickly as possible. You’re not sure what time he will be back, so you have no choice but to sit and wait once you’re in place.

You can feel your heart pumping in your ears. A million thoughts are racing through your mind, trying to understand how you got here. Hoping Chan has the reaction you want. You want to win the competition, sure, who wouldn’t in this situation? But you’re also eager to please Chan in a way you’ve never tried before. To give him complete control of you.

You’re excited. You’re nervous. You’re so out of your element.

You shift around in his bed, really wanting to check the time on your phone but unable to. Your hands are linked together with the furry black handcuffs you got from the mall, looped through a space in his headboard. You have waited all month for this. To catch him off guard, with a sight that is hopefully so shocking he will not be able to resist.

Though you tried to seduce him at other times throughout the month, you still had this wildcard up your sleeve in case none of your attempts worked. Which they hadn’t. So here you are, lying in his bed in skimpy black lingerie. It’s a one piece, lace body suit that’s cut out around the breasts so they’re on full display. The area between your legs is exposed, so you keep your legs bent, knees pressed together. The ensemble is accompanied by black, knee-high stockings and a garter belt.

You could hardly believe the sight looking at your own reflection. You just have to hope it’s enough. And fucking pray no one randomly decides to come in Chan’s room since you had no choice but to leave the door unlocked. You’d be fucking mortified.

Another few more minutes pass and you hear car doors closing in the driveway. Your heartbeat picks up again, fraught with anticipation.

It feels like a lifetime passes before you hear footsteps outside the door. Chan’s laughing at something someone said as he approaches. At least he’s in a good mood, maybe this will work. You sit up as straight as you can with your hands hanging above you.

You hold your breath as the doorknob turns while simultaneously trying to figure out what to do with your face. A cute look? A look of innocence? Seduction? You bite your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to hide your inner panic and that’s the look you’re stuck with as he enters.

His eyes land on you—exposed and cuffed to his bed—his laugh abruptly stops. His smile falters.

He exhales a loud sigh, drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. You’re chewing on the inside of your lip now as your nerves take over. This was not the reaction you had anticipated. Is he angry? Frustrated? Put off?

Maybe you shouldn’t have welcomed yourself into his bed. It’s not like you had an open invitation after the night he allowed you to sleep here with him. That hadn’t happened again since, and he hadn’t even mentioned it.

“Chan,” a timid voice says. It’s yours, but you hardly recognize it.

He straightens his head and looks at you again, eyes moving from your head, down to your stocking covered toes. He lets out another loud sigh and runs his hand through his hair. He shakes his head, blinking incredulously as he steps back and retreats from the room.

When the door closes, your heart sinks.

[ read chapter sixteen here ]

[ picture book for photos of the cabin and lingerie ]

a/n: please don't kill me. this one had to end on a cliffhanger. like, comment, reblog to show your support <3 what do we think, is chan coming back? or is he gonna win this thing?

taglist: @iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @hynxnelly / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo / @hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt / @fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog / @yjeonginlvr / @huneyeon / @kpop-kink / @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo / @skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie / @sailor--sun / @stephanieeeyang / @msauthor / @grlcbrd / @okkkcausewhet / @bangtancultsposts / @wannareadstories / @jenniferlr / @shroomcapp / @lyracarvahall / @palindrome969 / @grandma143

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bratphilia · 6 months

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── ★ ˙ strawberry charm ̟ !!

note ✧.*‎ hello hello hello welcome to scream meets fnaf. randomly got this idea after rewatching scream, like, why don't i combine one both franchises in the only way i know how? william afton as ghostface coming into your house and fucking the shit out of you!! and here we are. i spent a lot more time on this than i usually do writing fics so i seriously hope ppl enjoy it. i'm also on break starting today so i'll be pumping out more content from now on going into the new year!

pairing ✧.*‎‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ college au and scream au, reader is college aged, william is her robotics professor, ghostface!william afton, reader is girly, vibrators, multiple orgasms, perversion, mentions of stalking, descriptions of gore, choking, consensual non consent, break-in, approximately one lick to the pussy, rough sex, dumbification, glove kink, slapping, slight daddy kink, cockwarming

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @dilfity @kissingrhi @iikyutee @ghoulsgraveyard @cemeteryry @gh0stsp1d3r

synopsis ✧.*‎ a man calls you up wondering what your favorite scary movie is.

you hold back a deep sigh at the low-quality horror movie being showed on the big screen in front of you. no, it's not the most important thing in the world, to see something "cinematically excellent" every time you go to the theater, but shit, wouldn't that be nice? anyways, that's not what you're here for. you're here for a date with this guy in your robotics class, specifically.

he's handsy, but so are you. one arm is slung around your shoulder, you're cuddled against his chest, knees drawn upwards, and his other hand coming around to rub circles on your thigh. yes, it's your first date together, after weeks of study "dates." yes, you were cuddling, very heavy emphasis on pda. what about it? it made up for this movie being fucking terrible, so why not.

you have to laugh. nico, your date, had promised chills and shivers up your spine and hoped for your head pushed into his shoulder at the scary parts of the movie. rotten luck for him. you want to laugh at that. and you accidentally snicker, causing him to look towards you. "what?"

"oh, nothing," you say, nodding back towards the movie.

he says nothing, thank god.

finally, there's a good part of the movie. the main character, a ditzy blonde with big tits is tied to a tree while the film's slasher rips her boyfriend's head from his body with a chainsaw. your muscles clench, not in fear, but in delight. you've always been a sucker for gore. and fuck, it gets something else clenching too. you seriously wonder if nico can feel you throbbing when he rests his hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. he leans in for a kiss. no tongue, just lips to lips. it's nice. you notice he put on chapstick and you can taste the buttery popcorn on his mouth.

however, you're interrupted by the creaking of a chair behind you. the sound of someone getting up and leaving. you didn't pull away in time to catch their face, but the noise frankly startled you than any other part of the movie.

the film ended shortly after that. no, the person who left never did end up returning to their seat behind you, but that had long since left your mind anyways. nico drove you home in his silver convertible, the top down creating a nice breeze through your hair. the car ride was silent but content. date successful, in your opinion, shitty movie aside.

"well, goodnight," he says when your door is barely cracked open and you're halfway inside. you silently leaned up on your tippy toes and pecking his lips once more. you ignore the crackle of twigs in the foliage surrounding your house, blaming it on the wind.

the door shut behinds you. you live in a campus house, but your roommates just so happen to be out of the house for the weekend. this has meant nothing but trouble for you — meaning you snuck your friend lacey's vibrator out of its drawer and had yourself some fun. over and over and over. pastel pink with a pretty bow on the hot glued on the end for decoration (the two of you might have done that together). but don't worry about how you know where her vibrator is, that's none of your business!

while you're washing off the facial cleanser from your face in the shower as conditioner sits patiently in your hair, you think about nico. specifically whether or not you're actually interested in him. sure, he's a nice guy, romantic. bad taste in movies but clearly cares about what you like since he picked out a horror film to take you on a date to. and yet, that nagging thing in the back of your head, the one that told you not to commit to a relationship for fear of being stuck in one, had you snap back to the reality of relationships. you'll never be free to just date who you want, whenever you want. it made you frown.

you get out of the shower eventually, still undecided about the future of your dating life, and you decide to put the topic to rest and relax with a classic: nightmare on elm street. or maybe something else? suspiria, the thing, or evil dead? you browse your collection, and stop at freddy vs. jason. speaking of shitty horror movies and sticking to the freddy theme, you think with a smirk.

you slip the cd into the player. super retro, i know right?

you're popcorn'd out, to say the least, so you skip on making a bowl. your movie is interrupted shortly by the buzzing of your phone. the caller id just lists a phone number in your area. usually, you wouldn't pick these up, but you do it anyways. stupidly.

"hello?" you call out into your phone.

"hello." comes a man's deep voice.

you scratch your head, careful not to chip your manicure. "who is this?"

"who is this?" he mimics you, emphasis on this.

you scoff, already annoyed. probably a prank call. "i asked you first."

"look," he mediates, probably sensing your forming annoyance, "all i have is a question to ask."

"alright..." you say. nothing wrong with that. "shoot."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

you pretend to contemplate. "hereditary," you say finally. of course it's your favorite. it's had your heart since you first saw it in theaters. anyone who knows you knows not to bring it up if they don't want to hear you go on a tangent about it. "it's the right amount of atmosphere with the right amount of gore."

"isn't that the one where the little girl gets decapitated after slamming into a telephone from sticking her head out of a car window?" the man on the phone drawls, testing you.

"yes!" you practically exclaim. you hope you found another fan. not many other people shared your enthusiasm for the movie as you did.

he hums. "that's an interesting choice. i don't hear it enough. a little depressing, though."

"you mean you call other girls asking them what their favorite horror movie is? that's a new level of game i've never seen before," you tease, abandoning the movie to get up mindlessly and head to the bathroom to put your hair up.

"not just any girl," he says with a chuckle.

"oh?" you say, "so i'm special?"

"you could say that."

you smile, staring back at your reflection. you get it now. "you know, you could've just come inside earlier, nico. no need to put on the act."

"i'm not nico," he corrects you sternly.

you scoff and roll your eyes, putting your device down and switching it to speaker phone so you can multitask. "right," you say, unconvinced.

you sort through your collection of hair clips, picking out the right one — "the one with the strawberry charm, huh? that one's my favorite. 's sweet like you."

you nearly drop the accessory. how the fuck? a shiver shoots up through your spine. your head snaps towards the direction of the bathroom window. searching desperately for an answer, anyone that could've just been watching. but no one's there, of course!

"that's not funny, nico," you snap. you're pretty sure you've worn this hair clip to a study date over at his apartment, right? and he might've even complimented you on it. yeah, you try to convince yourself, he's seen it before.

but that doesn't explain how he knew —

"i told you already," the man on the phone's voice is agitated, "i'm not nico."

"then who the fuck are you?!" you ask in a shrill voice, ready to hang up on this motherfucker. you steadily twist your hair upwards and secure the claw around it, letting your remaining hair fall in a ponytail.

"i'll prove it to you," he tells you as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "check the backyard."

you shockingly decide not to hang up for your sake. you would rather keep a close eye on the situation rather than just let something happen to you. you creep towards the sliding glass doors, gulp, then switch on the light, only to be met with monstrosity.

nico's on his knees; you can hear him whimpering from inside, scrambling for his amputated arm that lies in between him and the sliding door. you open your mouth but you can't scream; the only thing you can feel is a shudder that shakes you to your very core. you feel almost weak in the knees, desperate to keep yourself standing on your two feet. there's blood, so much blood. all the backyard porch, your roommates will be so mad and concerned about what happened? how can you even begin to explain this?

you try to do the only sane thing you can think of: hang up and call the police. the thought of this being one big prank pulled on you crossed your mind, but you were too scared not to act. a beat passes after you pressed that little red button on your phone, and the door bursts open. this time you scream.

in a dark blur, you're pressed roughly against a mirror that frames the wall behind the dining table. a gloved hand wraps around your throat. "you stupid bitch, hanging up on me."

you meet the mask of your captor: the damn mask from that slasher movie stab. you were never particularly fond of the franchise. "lame movie reference," you manage to choke out, and you instantly eat your words. he slaps you across the face and loosens his grip at the same time, watching you fall to your side on the hard ground.

you can barely gather your thoughts — your head is fucking swimming — before he's dragging you by your ankle with a strong grip in the direction of your bedroom. you hate how you slide so easily across the smooth floor. you try your best to break free, to run, wriggling your leg violently to shake him away to no avail. when he's dragged you successfully inside the bedroom he closes it behind you, bends down and manhandles onto lacey's bed.

tears spill down your cheeks. this is it. you're going to die. but he doesn't take out a knife, or any weapon, actually, to fatally harm you with. instead, he's rummaging through the drawers in front of the bed. and then it dawns on you and you sit up. that's the drawer where lacey's —

"ah, found it," the man says triumphantly, turning back towards you, pastel pink vibrator in hand, toying with the ribbon. "what a cute little thing. do you know how many times i've watched you get off to this little device? what a fucking sight you make."

your eyes narrow. "who are you?"

he chuckles, then uses a hand to remove his mask, revealing the face of your robotics professor. him? how is it possible you've managed to capture his attention? when throughout the entire course he's done nothing but ignore you, treating you like you didn't exist. always ignoring your questions. shit, he's the reason why you started going to nico in the first place for help in his class: because nico was like his golden-star-student.

"i don't get it," you say, lip trembling as tears well in your eyes. "why me? what did i do—"

"to captivate me?" he finishes your sentence, turning on the vibrator. you gulp like it's your impending doom. professor raglan kneels onto the bed and you wish you could back up but you only hit the headboard behind you. "well, for starters: you were always so eager for my attention. and it hurt me not to give it to you. couldn't blow my cover, sweetheart."

you still didn't understand, but you didn't have anymore time to contemplate or question him. he was spreading your legs, splitting open a space under your short, pink skirt for him to gain access to the area between your legs. you fumble with the sheets, holding them in a death grip. you definitely ruined your manicure. once your skirt bunches up around your hips, it reveals your panty-less mound. of course. you didn't think to wear anything after your shower because it wasn't like you were going out.

your professor whistles lowly, pupils dilating in desire. it's perverted, the way he puts down the vibe, and grabs your hips upwards so he can get a closer look at your pussy. you throb subconsciously, making him look back up at you with a quirked brow. he leans forward to blow air on you, eyes still steady to gage your reaction. you whimper and wriggle in his grasp, face heating up in embarrassment. "you just have the cutest little cunt," he comments when he pulls away, then sticks his tongue out to lick a stripe up your pussy. "mmm, even sweeter, too. sweeter than the little strawberry in your hair."

"ohh," you coo. you hate to admit how good it feels, but here you were, arching your back in his touch and moaning.

"yeah?" he asks, taking his mouth off of you for a moment. "my baby like it when i eat her dripping pussy?"

you sniffle, not answering. you can't find it within you to be able to. "no? maybe i'll stop and move on then." you want to cry, fuck. a feeling of relief settles back in when he takes the vibrator back in his hand. the low hum grabs your attention — not like you could zone out at a time like this anyways.

when the device meets your needly clit you groan, flex your fingers at the sheets. "oh, fuck," you whisper. his eyes never leave your face, and every time you regrettably look at him, he's breathing heavily, open mouthed, like he just can't get enough of you. so you avoid looking at him, going through stages of keeping your eyes closed or looking up at the ceiling, praying for sweet release to whatever cruel deity is looking upon you getting fucked by this old man.

the vibrations against your clit are a little too good to be true. you can't help but feel like there's a price, one you'll specifically have to pay with his dick inside you. you wonder if it'll be lame like the other guys you've had, but honestly? you could get off to the thought of this situation, and you'll definitely remember this for future masterbation-sake. you're a freak like that.

raglan presses down on your stomach, iliciting a hiss from you through your teeth. "want you to come all over my arms," he tells you, "coat my gloves, you'll make me so happy."

fuck, then you get an idea. the gloves inside of you. you throb once more at the thought. "i-inside," you murmur, hoping he'd get the message.

"huh? what's that, baby?" he asks mockingly, but you know damn well he heard you. please don't make me said it, you think.

you reach down to touch his free hand, guiding it towards your entrance. "want my fingers inside you, hmm? baby needs something inside her to feel satisfied?"

"mhm," you hum with a nod of your head. he slowly slips a gloved finger inside you, the fabric deliciously creating friction that makes you grind on his hand. he looks up at you with a dirty smile, then reaches forward to kiss you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you ever so slowly. it's perfect. the stimulation of the vibrator combined with the feeling of his clothed hand is enough to make you burst.

and you do gracefully. so much that he pecks your cheek, tells you how much of a good girl you are for him, as lewd 'ah's tumble from your lips uncontrollably. you buck against his hand until he pulls is out of you, whining at his removal.

"i know, sweetheart, i know," he sympathizes after you, "daddy's cock's gonna be inside you soon, though. then you'll have something else to play with."

you're already exhausted from your first orgasm, somewhat unsure of how you're going to take the next, but you can hardly think about that now. you're drunk off the atmosphere between you two, nico's amputation is far forgotten. you can't even remember what you were doing before this. your hair is tussled in a way that has your hair clip drooping down the side of your shoulder loosely, but you don't have any energy to fix it. all you can think about is daddy's — wait, when did he become daddy? — cock inside you, and that's all that matters.

raglan begins to grind his bare cock against your entrance, having discarded his black slacks moments ago. he rubs the tip against you, purposefully bumping against your click, drawing out a symphony of noises — babbles along the lines of "please, just put it in, i can't take it anymore" — as your face contorts in a sob and tears fall down your cheeks again.

"my girl is such a crybaby," he chuckles, then slowly guides your hips to slide down on his cock. he fills you up by the inch, making you feel every ridge and vein. the stinging sensation of not being adjusted to his length washes over you in a surprisingly pleasurable wave. "so fucking tight," he gasps. he lets out his respective groans once he's fully sheathed inside of you.

then he starts moving; then things start to get good. you're not fully adjusted to his length, but the way you're leaking around him makes for perfect lube. what's a little pleasure without pain? it could be worse, you could be on the floor writhing in pain with multiple stab wounds, but instead you were being stabbed by his dick inside of you, so you weren't in a position to complain.

raglan leans down so his body is on top of yours, keeps himself steady by planting one hand to the side of your head as he aggressively snaps his hips into yours. you realize, in this moment, just how desperate he's probably been for this. not like you could do much thinking, but the way he was pistoning inside you said enough about how he felt. and god you felt good, clenching and unclenching around him, making the prettiest noises he's ever heard.

one particularly hard thrust has your head swimming, like it did when he slapped you. you want him to slap you again, so you initiate it in the only way you know how; reaching forward to land a weak hit across his face. he stops moving for a second, shocked. then with a swift whack across the face, he's back to thrusting inside of you, even harder this time around. "wanted me to hit you so bad, you could've just asked you dumb little slut," he growls into your ear.

"''m sorry," you have the audacity to giggle, "couldn't tell you."

"yeah? am i fucking you that stupid?" he asks, "'course, i don't expect you to able to answer that."

he flips you over suddenly so you land on your stomach, putting himself back in, fucking you with reckless abandon. the way his cock is hitting your g-spot right now has you plummeting over the edge. you wriggle your hips backwards to help him get off too, which he does right inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

he doesn't pull out. he's waited too damn long for this to do so. he's gonna enjoy a nice, long time inside of you, whether you like it or not. he collapses on his side, pulling you close to him so that he's spooning you. the most important thing to him in that moment, is your half-awake form rising and falling with each breath against him with his cock buried deep inside of you, strawberry charmed hair clip discarded somewhere by the pillows.

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #🎀 — diary entry

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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

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Sharing is caring (George Russell)

A long weekend with the Russells

Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.

"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.

"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.

"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.

"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.

"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.

Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.

"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".

After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.

"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.

When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.

"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.

"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.

"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".

"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.

"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.

"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.

The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.

"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.

George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.

"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.

"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.

When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".

Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.

"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.

"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.

"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.

"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.

"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.

"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.

"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.

When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.

"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.

"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.

"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.

Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".

#george russell imagine #george russell fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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cutielando · 2 months

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so I just saw the sleep token themed smau you did and it gave me an idea: reader is the daughter of a big new wave rockstar from the 80s (like someone from INXS or Duran Duran), and she’s started dating a driver (Alex or Mick) and now there’s a whole generation of fans who are like ‘her dad is who??? in what band???’

I just thought it could be neat, seeing two of my special interests merge like that lmao god I love the eighties-

a/n: this is so cute !! 🥹 hope you like it!!!❤️

social media au

synopsis: the request 🌸❤️

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

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y/n.rhodes Thank you mercedesamgf1 for having me!❤️ Such a fun weekend!!

view all 392,185 comments

mercedesamgf1 It was a pleasure having you with us for the weekend!❤️

user1 UMMMM????

user2 since when does she go to races?

landonorris such a shame you didn’t wear the papaya shirt i gave you

y/n.rhodes next time, i promise !!!!

landonorris hmmm, okay. mclaren do your thing

mclaren On it! 🫡

lilymhe you’re gorgeous babe 😍😍

y/n.rhodes have you seen yourself???😭❤️

alex_albon please don’t flirt with my girlfriend

y/n.rhodes you can’t stop us now. she’s OUR girlfriend

lilymhe sorry babe

alex_albon ???

zendaya i miss you girl !!!

y/n.rhodes i miss you too !!!!

user3 she is such an icon

user4 we should be grateful to be living in the same era as her

user3 for realllll

user4 i wanna be her so badly😭😭

lewishamilton it was a pleasure meeting you🥂

y/n.rhodes likewise, Sir Hamilton 😮‍💨

lewishamilton i told you not to call me that

y/n.rhodes i must have not heard you, loud garage you see

mickschumacher had a lovely time!❤️

y/n.rhodes so did i❤️

iMessage

sir lewis

hey y/n

y/n

hello sir hamilton

sir lewis

😐woman

y/n

okay sorry sorry

what’s up

sir lewis

what’s the deal with you and Mick?

y/n

what do you mean?

sir lewis

all the flirting in the garage

the comments

what’s going on?

do you have a crush?😉😉😉

y/n

we’re just friends

nothing is going on

sir lewis

are you sure?😌😌

y/n

yes lol

sir lewis

i don’t believe you, but okayyyy

y/n🩵

lewis is onto us

mickie🩵

what?

how?

y/n🩵

unmmm

the comment?????

maybe because we flirted in the garage?

he’s convinced we have crushes on each other

mickie🩵

fuck

what do you want to do?

y/n🩵

i mean

we can just go with the flow

just show up together and that would be it

mickie🩵

are you sure?

we don’t have to

y/n🩵

it’s okay, i wanna

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mickschumacher great weekend, time to recharge

view all 89,143 comments

mercedesamgf1 Hope you enjoy your time off ;)

mickschumacher thank you admin :))

georgerussell63 very nice pictures, mate

mickschumacher thank you, i have a talented photographer

georgerussell63 i'm sure you do ;)

estebanocon you went on holiday without me? :(

mickschumacher i had to :( i didn't have a choice

estebanocon you always have a choice

mickschumacher no, he doesn't - the missus

estebanocon sorry ma'am, i take it back

user1 Mick having a girlfriend was not on my bingo card for this year

user2 I need to know who his girlfriend is like YESTERDAY

user3 I might know who she is

user4 BESTIE???????? SPILL

user3 I might be completely wrong and off-track but I believe it might be Y/N Rhodes

user3 isn't she the girl who visited the garage a couple of weeks back?

user4 Yes. She's the daughter of Nick Rhodes, a member of the band Duran Duran

user5 MICK BAGGED A GIRL???

y/n.rhodes those are some very nice pictures, mr. schumacher

mickschumacher i have a very good photographer who took them for me

y/n.rhodes you'll have to introduce them to me, they seem very good at what they do

user5 I wanna be on vacation with him too :(((

user6 NOBODY MOVE, MICKIE HAS A GF

user7 this explains his impressive drive a couple of weeks back

lewishamilton interesting turn of events

mickschumacher i don't know what you're talking about

liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 5,291,825 others

y/n.rhodes i like the view tagged: mickschumacher

view all 602,185 comments

lewishamilton I KNEW IT

y/n.rhodes nostradamus, congratulations

lewishamilton don't mock your seniors

mickschumacher 🩵

y/n.rhodes 🩵

mercedesamgf1 Thank you Y/N for being our lucky charm from here on out! 🩵

y/n.rhodes always a pleasure 🩵🩵

user1 MICK AND Y/N?????

user2 this took me completely by surprise

user3 I TOLD YOU GUYS I KNEW IT

estebanocon finally

mickschumacher :)

y/n.rhodes thank you for keeping quiet, estie bestie

estebanocon i told you not to call me that

y/n.rhodes sucks to suck

user4 Y/N seems like such a menace and I'm here for it

user5 mickschumacher did you meet Nick?

mickschumacher i did

user6 HOW WAS IT?????

mickschumacher intimidating, but we get along great

y/n.rhodes my dad loves him, he's a sucker for blondes

user7 DAMN Y/N

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sweetsweetjellybean · 8 months

Text

A night out with friends turns into a surprise welcome home party for the man who broke your heart, Eddie Munson.

Masterlist Listen to Scar Tissue Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC:5162. Beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Have a good day,” your mother calls out as you shut the front door to the gray clapboard-sided home that your parents had fallen in love with the moment they laid eyes on it. You hadn’t even gotten past the front steps before she appears in the doorway, pulling her purple terry-cloth robe tighter around her shoulders as she calls you back. “You don’t have to come right home after school,” she tells you, pressing a few folded bills into your hand, “Go out with your friends. Have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You muster up a smile, shoving the bills into the front pocket of your Levi's, certain they will end up in the ceramic pink elephant bank that sits atop your dresser, just like the money she gave you last week. She watches you walk down the steps, giving you a wave before she turns away, shutting the door behind her.

She tries her best, but she doesn't understand that friendships in the seventh grade aren't made as easily as they were in kindergarten, and you can't tell her that in the six weeks you've been enrolled at Hawkins Middle School, not a soul has spoken to you unless asked to by a teacher.

This was the life that your parents had chosen, a career that demanded constant relocation and upheaval. "It's an adventure," they'd tell you as your things were being packed into boxes. But the older you got, it felt less like an adventure and more like a test. A test to prove yourself over and over. There’s a phrase your mom has uttered so often over the years, that it's surprising it's not embroidered on the throw pillows. Bloom where you're planted. But here, in this town, you're only a weed in the garden.

Hawkins isn't any worse or better than any of the other ten places you've lived in the last seven years, but these kids have been together since birth and aren't eager to welcome newcomers into the flock. Pouring your efforts into being confident and friendly, projecting a cool and unbothered facade, the constant exposure has left you empty. The mask is too heavy, and you’ve been wearing it far too long. If this were one of the comics you kept in the box under your bed, you'd be discovering your superpower–Invisibility. They don't see you here, and maybe they never would.

The edges of folded bills in your pocket press into the meat of your thigh. Adding them to your total should give you enough for the new Elastica CD. With a bit of luck, you might be able to talk your dad into driving you to Tower Records in Indianapolis this weekend. A few houses away, the battered front door of a small yellow cape opens with a click and thud, drawing your attention. The house was more run-down than the others on this street. The grass was left to grow a little longer before being mowed, and a few nights a week, you could hear the yelling coming from inside before seeing the slow flash of lights of a cruiser parked in front.

A boy with curly shoulder-length hair bounds out from inside the house, slinging on his worn backpack as he hits the sidewalk.

Right on time this morning.

The scuff of your white Doc Martens falls in step with the crunch of his black Converse hitting the pavement. The chain running from his back pocket to his hip sways with his movements. It’s more of a determined bounce than a walk. Your eyes stay trained on the frayed holes of his Jansport, corners of textbooks and papers pushing through. You keep waiting for physics to kick in and the thing to give way entirely.

“Quit following me.”

His voice floats over his shoulder, shattering the quiet of the morning. Your head swivels from side to side, looking for whoever he is speaking to. His body turns until he’s walking backward, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack, casting his expectant brown eyes on you.

“Me?” You ask, touching your chipped painted fingernails to your chest.

“You’ve been following me for weeks, and it’s creepy.”

“I’m not following you,” you say incredulously, “We’re just going to the same place.”

“Well, walk on the other side of the street or something,” he says, turning back around, continuing on his way like he assumes you’ll comply.

“No.”

Your defiance comes out flat and solid, drawing a line, sick of him and this whole town.

“Yes,” the word comes back without a glance, utterly unbothered by your show of determination.

“No,” you repeat louder, your eyebrows pulling together in a scowl, “If you don’t like it, you walk over there.”

“I was here first.”

“Seriously?” The anger in your chest turns to heat, rising up your neck and settling in your face. Your mouth opens, ready to unleash the venom sitting on the tip of your tongue when he stops walking.

“Might as well walk beside me then.”

Surprise melts the words in your mouth as your feet carry you forward until you’re close enough to see the freckles covering his nose. His eyes stay forward as his stride lines up with yours, moving forward at a more relaxed pace. A light breeze rustles the leaves of the Maples lining the street. The sound of your footsteps is interrupted by the occasional passing car.

“You’re in seventh, right? You got Schnider?” He asks, his eyes darting to your face.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking down at your boots.

"Bad luck. She's a real bitch. I had her last year."

Answering with a shrug, you risk a look back at him. Long eyelashes framing big doe eyes, a sweet face he tries to hide with a hard shell. He wears a mask, too.

Your brain’s on overload for the rest of the day—thoughts of the boy coloring away the hours like a secret, overanalyzing every bit of your interaction. When the shrill sound of the final bell rings, you join the current of students, gathering your belongings and exiting the building in a wave.

The fresh air is a welcome escape from the stuffy classroom as you cross behind the school past the football field, heading toward the path through the woods where the boy is lingering just beyond the gate, digging through his pack but coming up with nothing like maybe he had been waiting. Without a word, he falls into step beside you. When you look at him, this time, he meets your eyes. The sunlight flickers through the swaying leaves as your footsteps resonate through the trees as you continue together.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cuts the quiet air when you reach the front steps of his house, his tone revealing a hint of uncertainty.

"I'll be headed the same way," you answer.

He turns away from you, pausing with his foot on the top step, looking up at his house before looking back at you.

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he offers, his cheeks pinking at the vulnerability his words carry.

"I know," you respond, a small smile gracing your lips as you continue home.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter, tucking your phone into your clutch and bolting up the marble steps to the second floor of the Kimpton Grey Hotel. Composing yourself as you pass through the lobby and open the double doors into Vol.39. The bar exudes timeless elegance with its dim, warm light shining on the dark-wood accents. Vintage jazz playing through hidden speakers, sounding like smoke and liquor. Everything here is steeped in leather, old money, and sophistication. It's no surprise that Nancy chose it.

"You're late," Nancy says flatly, no amusement in the blue eyes framed by the blunt cut of her black, sleek hair as she glances at her watch with disapproval.

"Sorry." You slide into the open seat on the tufted couch across from her, adjusting the material of your dark emerald midi skirt so the slit wouldn't be showing off too much thigh, "There was traffic." It definitely wasn’t the extra half hour you spent with your feet up on your desk at Stax listening to the new release from Band of Horses.

"This is Chicago. There's always traffic," she counters, keeping her voice low enough that it doesn't travel past the lit bookshelves lined with leather-bound encyclopedias framing the seating area that your friends are currently occupying. "That's why I gave you a time a week ago. So you could plan ahead."

"She’s in a mood," Argyle says from the corner of his mouth, his hair falling around him like a curtain as he leans closer from the velvet upholstered club chair beside you.

"Where's Steve?" Nancy demands, setting down her crystal tumbler on the gray marble table in the center of the space.

"He's not here?" you ask, scanning the bar. "It was Robin’s turn to watch him."

"Me?" Robin exhales from the other end of the couch she shares with Nancy.

"You're his best friend," you point out with a quirk of your brow.

"Yeah, but you're his–"

"I don't know why I bother to organize nights out for all of us if no one is going to be on time," Nancy cuts off Robin, huffing as she crosses her slender arms over her chest.

"It will be fine, Nance," Johnathan reassures, coming back from the bar carrying a flight of martinis he sets down in the center of the table. "Just relax. Everyone's going to be here in plenty of time." He takes the seat beside her, comforting her with his arm around her shoulder.

Nancy and Johnathan have been on again-off again since she left Hawkins for school in Boston. Rekindling their relationship when she moved to Chicago and accepted a position at Spectrum Media, where she still works as their vice-president of content strategy.

"Plenty of time for what?" You ask, leaning forward to choose a martini, picking the Astoria with a knot of lemon.

"There's a mystery guest," Robin says, wriggling her brows and hooking her thumb towards Nancy. “Full of surprises, isn't she?”

"Where's Flora tonight?" You ask Robin, noticing she is without an escort.

"Flora?" She asks, picking up a drink for herself, "That was over a week ago." She dismisses her with a wave of the hand before running it through her wavy blonde streaked locks, "Sadly, she left for a goat herding commune in Sacramento. I've been seeing someone new, a painter named Taylor. She's on exhibit at Magnolia. Her florals are really dreamy." She bites an olive off the end of her toothpick, sighing.

Smiling around the lip of your glass, you shake your head. Robin works as an exhibit coordinator for Magnolia Gallery in Wicker Park, falling in and out of love with artists as quickly as she sells their pieces. You give her credit, she's having fun.

"Did you text him?" Nancy asks, her lips twisting with impatience. The tense clench of her jaw has you setting down your drink and reaching for your clutch with no arguments. "Do you know how hard it was to get this reservation?"

"Then why are we here?" Argyle complains, gesturing around the room while he slumps back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with the other. "You know I own like six bars, right? No reservations required."

"But then you'd be working," Nancy explains, as Argyle smoothes out his handlebar mustache.

"I'm always working, babe," Argyle says with a smirk, looking the part of a restaurateur and music promoter in his shiny flat-front trousers and short-sleeved silk shirt.

Argyle is a new friend - meaning not from Hawkins. The California transplant, whose family owns a chain of successful pizza restaurants, has breathed new life into the Chicago music scene. Booking up-and-coming acts as well as big names into his bars and venues all across the city. He's a good friend to have, especially in your line of work–a music journalist for Stax the city's premiere music, arts, and culture magazine.

“He’s on his way,” you inform them, setting your phone face down on the table before settling back on the couch.

“On his way or leaving now?” Nancy shakes her head, knowing with Steve it’s probably the latter. “Why didn’t you ride with him?” She asks, turning toward Jonathan.

“I wasn’t in the office today. I was on a shoot,” he says, pulling his arm away from her and setting his drink down harder than necessary, his patience with her at an end.

Jonathan, like you and Steve, works for the conglomerate Second City Media. Nancy likes to think that she permits the three of you to work for her competitor, but Steve had already gotten his foot in the door, securing himself an entry-level position at Metro Sports division before she was even out of grad school. Jonathan had been doing alright freelancing as a photographer, but when Nancy started at Spectrum, Second City recognized their competitor would wind up with an edge and hired him on as full-time staff. Everyone knows it's better for their relationship not to be working in the same place, especially with Nancy as his boss.

“Give us some clues about this mystery guest,” Robin interjects to lower the temperature between the couple, which is ready to boil over.

"Okay, I'm here." Steve comes from behind you, his voice alerting you to his arrival before you see him. His tie is already missing, the first three buttons of his starched shirt undone beneath his midnight blue suit, and his hair tousled from a day of running his hands through.

"Really, Steve? You couldn't be on time just this once?" Nancy scolds him, rolling her eyes.

"Meeting ran late. You know how it is," he leans down to kiss her cheek,"Or maybe you don't. I heard things are a bit slow over there at Spectrum," he teases, earning a smirk from Johnathan.

Steve worked his way up from the sports division to chief content officer for Second City Media. The position puts him just shy of the power Nancy holds at Spectrum, fueling the pair's competitive and ambitious nature until their bickering often drives everyone else crazy.

"Steve," Robin draws his attention before Nancy gets the chance to respond, "About tomorrow–"

"Just a minute, Robin. I haven't gotten to kiss my beautiful wife hello." He steps over Argyle's legs and gives the man a quick handshake in greeting before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"I'm not your wife yet, handsome," you tell him as his strong hands cup your cheeks, tipping your head up toward him.

"But it sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks before soft lips close over yours, his thumb pressing on your chin, asking for access to deepen the kiss beyond the line that's appropriate in front of company.

"Niiiice," Argyle hums as the others snicker. Steve takes a hand off your cheek, holding it in front of you to block some of their views as his mouth moves hotly over yours.

"God, you two are sickening," Nancy's remark is probably accompanied by an eye roll, but you're too occupied to notice as you tighten your grip on the front of Steve's shirt, drawing him nearer.

Four of his fingers curl down, giving Nance a one-fingered message as he continues to kiss you until he's had his fill. Breaking away with a gentle peck. "How was your day today, Ace? Did you write me a Pulitzer?"

"You ask me that every day."

Despite teasing you, he wouldn't be surprised if you had what it takes. That's how much he believes in you. He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a kiss next to the glittering diamond he put on your hand a little over two years ago.

"Excuse you." Robin climbs over Argyle's legs that are still stretched out in front of him, taking up all the space between the chairs and the table, and walks over to the couch, squeezing her way onto the sofa between you and Steve, "Best friend privileges." She winks before launching into a conversation about the next exhibit she's putting together.

"You two crazy kids set a date yet?" Argyle asks at a volume higher than you'd prefer. Raising your index finger to your lips, eyebrows drawing together as your eyes flick over to Steve.

"I'm just making sure my invite didn't get lost in the mail," he says, sipping his drink. "I love weddings, man—all those tiny little versions of regular-sized food. Maybe I should open a restaurant like that, where everything is tiny. Tiny little kebabs and tiki drinks with tiny little umbrellas. I don't know what's taking you so long. You need to make an honest man out of him." His voice grows louder at the end of his sentence, earning him another look from you, a distraction that diverts Steve's attention from his conversation.

The waitress chooses that moment to appear, saving you from another conversation about setting a wedding date. It's not that you don't want to marry him–you do. Someday. Decisiveness has never been your strong suit, along with dressing up in big puffy dresses that look like frosting and being on display for everyone you have ever known and their plus ones.

While Steve squints down at the drink menu, fondness warms you like the opening notes of your favorite song. Reaching across Robin, you tap his chest. He looks over at you as he pulls a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slides them on his nose.

Your lips move without sound–I love you.

You too, he mouths back. His mossy eyes softening as he smiles just for you.

You're happy. Why change a thing?

“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Top shelf. Please,” Steve tells the waitress after she had gone around taking orders for small plates to share and more cocktails from the others. “Another Martini?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, please. An Astoria,” you tell her as she finishes scribbling everything down on her pad and heads off toward the bar to put in your orders.

“The ladies?” You tip your head at Robin, who nods, getting up to follow you. Steve squeezes your hand as you walk by as he continues his conversation with Nancy about the effectiveness of paywalls on digital content.

“God, she’s in rare form,” Robin comments as you enter the empty ladies' room, each of you closing yourself into a stall.

“Are she and Jonathan fighting again?” You ask once you’ve finished up and moved to the sink to wash your hands. The echo of your voices bouncing off the black and white hexagon tiles.

“When aren’t they fighting?” She pulls a few paper towels from the machine bolted to the wall and drys her hands. “It’s like foreplay for them at this point.”

You laugh, checking under your eyes for make-up smears. “Any ideas about this mystery guest?”

“No idea.” She tugs the brass handle of the door open, and you follow her back into the bar. “Maybe her brother?”

“That would be nice,” you say, your boot heels tapping on the dark chevron floors, “He just got married, right?”

“So young, practically still a baby,” she tuts, her head shaking from side to side.

“Robin, he’s not that-”

Robin's hand clamps onto your forearm, a squeal escaping her mouth as excitement radiates through her. She bounces on her toes, leaving you in her wake. Whoever elicited such a reaction is being blocked by Steve and Jonathan. When she gracefully maneuvers past them, you catch a fleeting glimpse of dark curls before the two men shift back into place, obscuring your view once more. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the other patrons swells in your ears. Your feet carry you forward, curiosity resonating like the reverb of a guitar. Steve feels you coming up behind him and shifts to the side. Without warning, rich chocolate eyes are locked onto yours. Eyes you haven’t seen in eleven years when he left you a mixtape instead of a goodbye. The eyes of the man that shattered your heart into so many pieces, all the edges are still sharp.

“Hey, doll.”

The breath trapped in your lungs forms a suffocating bubble, its dull, aching pressure stifling any movement in or out, causing your body to lock in protest. You're tugged forward, unable to fight it, until your body collides with his. The faint but familiar scent of him embraces you, lingering beneath the spicy notes of expensive cologne. Triggering a flood of a hundred painful memories, like songs you’ve overplayed and can’t bear to hear again. They jar your instincts into overriding the shock, compelling you to push him away. Eddie's solid frame absorbs the force. To your relief, the others haven't noticed as you retreat to your seat. Your trembling hand raises your martini to your lips, taking larger swallows than you normally would, but nothing with this situation is normal.

"Desperate times," you mutter under your breath, tipping back your glass. By the time everyone has settled back into their seats, your martini glass stands drained, the lingering taste of its contents bittersweet on your tongue.

Steve directs the waitress to bring another drink for you and a double Mescal for Eddie. The others' voices are a distant buzz in your ears, but their words don't breach the barrier of your thoughts. The chords playing in your mind are more discernible now. Their lyrics printed onto the faded photographs of a boy that you struggle to reconcile as the man before you. He's older, but you are too. His long hair is much shorter, the dark curls a richer brown pushed away from his face. A few lines grace the corners of his eyes and forehead–a reminder of the life he's lived without you.

Steve's comforting hand wraps around your shoulders while the other finds a home sliding between the soft skin where your legs are crossed, exposed by the high slit of your skirt. Eddie's eyes are on you, his stare focused on Steve's big hand covering half your thigh. Your left hand moves on top of Steve's, adjusting to make sure the sparkling rock on your finger gleams with brilliance in the soft, ambient light.

"Well, this is a blast from the past," Robin notes, her voice full of whimsy as she dangles her cocktail glass between two fingers, swaying it gently like a pendulum.

"Aren't you all glad I forced you to come out?" Nancy quips, much more relaxed now that her plan has come to fruition.

"You did good, love," Johnathan murmurs. His fingers tangling with hers before giving her a quick peck.

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Steve agrees, "How long has it been, dude? Three, four years?"

"Yeah, I think that was the last time you were in L.A." Eddie scratches at his chin, covered with just enough scruff to almost be a beard.

Steve keeps in touch with Eddie? Had he told you when you hadn't been paying attention to him, your mind wandering with the words you would write for other people's songs?

"Now, I know that I told you only old friends," Nancy says, angling herself towards the plaid upholstered chair that Eddie occupies. "But Argyle knows all the local talent, and I thought he'd be a good connection to have since you're moving here."

"What?" You ask, as if a sudden vacuum has just sucked the air from the room.

"You're moving here?" Robin's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of all her friends in the same city. She was the original connection that brought you together all those years ago.

"When you say here. You mean Hawkins, right? You're moving back to Hawkins," you clarify.

"No. I mean here. I'm moving to Chicago," Eddie says, leaning back into his chair, his long legs spread in his tailored black suit, the black v-neck underneath giving off a laid-back California vibe. "I told those corporate studio fucks I was done. I'm opening my own place to record music that's actually good, not just the kind that will sell. I'm surprised you don't know all this, doll. Isn't it supposed to be your job or something?"

“Fu–”

"Why Chicago?" Jonathan asks, cutting you off before you let loose a very appropriate response to his question, "Why not stay in L.A. or New York. Aren't there music scenes bigger than here?"

Eddie tips his head to the side, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "You know, L.A.'s lost its charm for me. Too many fake people made out of plastic. And, well, Wayne's not getting any younger. Thought it's about time to be closer, you know?"

“You'd be much closer in Hawkins. Bet you could find a place downtown real cheap. You should go look there.” You cross your arms over your chest, drawing a line in the sand.

“Hawkins doesn’t really scream rock ‘n’ roll, and I already got a place, but thanks,” he says, unconcerned as ever by your tone.

“Look at you two,” Robin says, clapping her hands, “Just like old times, back to your usual banter." Her mischievous grin widens, "Remember when she had that massive crush on you, Eddie? You’d stroll into Musicland during our shift, and she’d follow you around with those big heart eyes.”

Your ears ring as heat rushes up to your neck to your cheeks,the whole world spinning. Eddie looks down, swirling the remnants of gold liquid in his crystal-cut glass.

“You’re exaggerating, Robin,” you sputter, reaching for your drink, hiding behind the lip of the glass, “We were just friends. And it couldn’t have been too major. I don’t even remember it.”

“Oh, come on,” she protests, “Everybody knew.”

"I didn't," Steve's voice cuts through her teasing, leaving an awkward stillness in its wake. The distant sounds of high-pitched laughter and the faint scrape of utensils against plates fill the void. Your friends exchange uncomfortable glances, even though there was no malice in his tone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, though,” his smile puts everyone at ease. “Right, Ace?” His head dips, brushing your lips in confirmation. You nod as he continues, “Robin, remember when we both went on dates with the same girl. What was her name? Brenda.” His fingers snap with the recollection.

“That’s right, Brenda! Brenda Mackenzie!” Robin laughs and begins to regale the group with the story.

When you lift your eyes, Eddie’s stare remains fixed on you, amusement replaced with an intensity you can’t read. An unfinished sentence or lyric. Words hanging between you like a question that you can't answer—one that you don’t want to.

“I’m going for another drink,” you say to Steve, picking up your empty glass.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, brows drawing together.

“No, I’m okay,” you tell him with a plastered-on smile, “You want anything?”

He shakes his head no. “I let my car service go early. I’ll drive us home in your car.”

With gentle fingers, you sweep aside a stray lock of hair that's draped across his forehead, planting a tender kiss on his lips before making your way to the bar.

There is a soft creak of the leather as you seat yourself on a high stool in front of the polished wood bar. A bartender with an easy smile takes your order and leaves, giving you a much needed moment alone. Your lungs expand and contract without releasing any tension. You study your reflection in the mirror behind the rows of brightly lit bottles. If you could rewind the tape to a few hours ago, you'd have happily stayed in your office. Calling Nancy tomorrow to grovel for forgiveness for messing up her plans. But you can’t and the song plays on. It’s always the music that hurts the worst.

You release an audible sigh, your breath escaping through parted lips, as he settles onto the stool beside you. With a casual tap of his rings against the bar, he signals for the bartender, raising a single finger, his tongue peeks out, grazing his bottom lip as he gestures toward his empty glass.

"What’s the matter, doll? You really that unhappy to see me?" Eddie drawls, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It’s been eleven years, Eddie. Sorry I’m not organizing a parade." You settle back into your seat, glancing around as if you're bored.

The bartender lowers his eyes as they deliver your drinks and wisely retreats to the far end of the establishment.

"I didn’t come here to fight," Eddie replies, his tone softening. He shifts his weight slightly on the stool, one arm resting casually on the counter, the glint of a gold chain around his neck catching the dim light.

"Then why are you here?" Your eyes narrow as your fingers trace the condensation on the side of the full glass.

"A fresh start. To build something of my own." He looks at you with determination, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bar lights.

"Then build it somewhere else," you respond curtly, your words laced with frustration. You pick up your drink and down half of it in one go, the chilled liquid leaving a slight burn as it slides down your throat. Setting the glass back down, you turn to leave.

He stops you with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist, his touch causing your pulse to quicken beneath his fingertips. "There are some things I want to say to you. Let me take you to lunch unless Harrington has got you on too short of a leash."

You pull your wrist back, the feel of his touch lingering like smoke in the air. "Whatever you have to say has waited this long, try again in another decade. Unless you're dying."

"Would it make a difference if I was?" He meets your gaze with amusement playing on his lips.

"Let me think about it… nope." Your reply is quick and sharp, meant to cut.

"I know you're mad–"

"No. Mad would imply some kind of emotional attachment. What I feel is indifference. In case you don't know the definition, that means nothing at all." Your voice stays cool and detached as you hop off the stool. "It's a big city, Eddie. There's no reason we have to see each other again."

"We'll have to see about that," he smirks.

"Have a nice life," you say a final goodbye to your past and turn away, walking in the direction of Steve when he stops you with one more question.

"Did you listen to it? The tape, did you ever listen?"

The lie comes without hesitation.

“No.”

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Read Song 2. here

AN: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. If you have a song that you think Eddie would have recorded on the mixtape send it to me in an ask and it might be included. Anything before 2001. I'd love to hear from you. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

#steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #torn series #torn #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #Spotify

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apocalypseornaw · 2 months

Text

Look after You

Dean Winchester x Gender neutral Reader

You're hurt in a car accident and Dean takes care of you.

@hpxmcusworld I hope you enjoy

Dean was pacing the floor of the library, staring at his phone and silently begging it to ring. You should've been back by now. Why hadn't he gone with you?

"Still no word?” Sam asked, walking in behind him and he nearly growled “No. Man, can you track their phone,please?” Sam felt his heart drop at Dean's voice. He knew his brother loved you, he had for years and the thought of losing you terrified him. If after all the loss something happened to you Sam wasn't sure Dean would survive it.

Right as Sam got his laptop on, Dean's phone started blaring. Dean answered it and a voice he didn't recognize hit his ears “Is this Mister Dean Campbell?” He swallowed hard before saying “Yes” “We have your spouse here. They were brought in from an automobile accident”

“WHAT?” Dean felt his heart threaten to stop at that moment. His ears started ringing and his knees weakened. Sam moved to his side and took the phone, clicking the speaker on “Hello?” “Mister Campbell?” The doctor asked and Sam replied “This is his brother” “Oh well I was telling your brother we have his spouse in the emergency department. They were injured in an automobile accident. A drunk driver ran a stop sign and hit their car. They're stable but currently in for a CT scan. We need their emergency contact here as soon as possible” “We'll get there as soon as we can”

Your head was throbbing, the bright fluorescent lights were killing you. What was worse was according to the doctors you'd lost a few weeks. The last thing you remembered was Christmas and apparently it was St Patrick's Day weekend.

You were terrified and alone. The doctor had told you he called Dean but he hadn't arrived yet. You knew he'd be to your side soon though.

—-----------

The moment you were wheeled out of the room for the scan however you heard Dean's voice loud and clear “Where are they at? You called me and told me they're hurt, then I got here and what? You fucking lost them?”

You laughed lightly and the nurse smiled “That him?” You grinned “Yes ma'am” already feeling better knowing Dean was here. He'd take care of you.

You sat on your bed with Dean's arm wrapped protectively around you. He hadn't moved since he got to your side. As always Sam was being the more diplomatic one, handling paperwork and talking to doctors. “I should go find the asshole that hit you and rip his lungs out” he grumbled and you smiled, curling into his side “They said I'll be ok Dean. It's just a concussion and should heal on its own” he nodded “Doesn't mean I'm not still pissed someone hurt you. I'm pissed at them and at myself. I never should've let you go alone”

You sighed knowing this was an argument you'd lose. Of course Dean was blaming himself instead of the person who chose to drink way too much and get behind the wheel.

After about an hour Sam came in pushing a wheelchair “Good news. Your awesome brother in law talked the doctor into letting you go home. We have a list of aftercare precautions but given our history with injuries I'm sure we can handle it” you cut your eyes at Dean who sighed “about time. I want to get you back to the bunker”

“I can walk!” You squealed when Dean picked you up out of the backseat and headed out of the garage and towards your shared room. He nodded “I know but I'm not taking no chances of hurting you further. Cas will be here in two days to heal you. Until then you're not getting out of my sight”

Once you made it to the room he sat you gently down on the bed then dug in the dresser pulling out one of his own shirts and a pair of his boxers. At your look he rolled his eyes “Don't act like you don't enjoy wearing my clothes more than yours anyways” He did have a point.

He treated you like you were made of glass as he stripped you of the scrubs the hospital had given you and dressed you in his clothes. Once he was sure you were comfortable he kicked off his boots and crawled into bed next to you, pulling you over on his chest “You need anything baby?”

You shook your head “I remember Christmas. Can you catch me up?” He smiled before catching your lips in a gentle kiss “Of course”

—---------------

Before you fell asleep Dean sat multiple alarms to wake you up at the needed intervals. Once you were out he laid there, watching your chest rise and fall gently. He needed the assurance you were ok.

He loved you more than he'd ever dreamt of loving someone. When he met you he was knocked off his feet by how much he wanted you the moment he laid eyes on you but then he got to know you. Every conversation, every hunt, every late night talk he fell deeper and deeper.

The day he realized he loved you wasn't a big scene or anything memorable really. You were sitting in Bobby's kitchen, helping him make salt rounds and humming under your breath. When he'd walked into the room you met his eyes and smiled and he'd felt like he'd been hit by a truck when the realization hit him that you owned his heart and he had no intention of ever asking for it back.

If something had happened to you…no he wouldn't go down that rabbit hole. You were here, alive and he'd make sure from now on he was always at your side. Logically he knew he couldn't have stopped a wreck but his heart wasn't hearing that. You were his and he would be damned before anything ever hurt you again.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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bunnyreaper · 3 months

Text

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders.

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.)

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge.

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora.

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door.

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me."

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing.

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in."

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does.

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail.

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over.

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be.

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show.

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club.

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you.

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently."

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats.

"Yeah, she's really worried."

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything."

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge.

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour.

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon."

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party."

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better."

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections."

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass.

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work."

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree."

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse.

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted.

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously.

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to.

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye."

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure.

"How many friends?" He asks.

"4." You answer instantly.

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave.

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass."

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless.

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through.

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature.

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni."

"We can go over names and details when you're ready."

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do."

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say.

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?"

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners.

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do."

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours."

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then."

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out.

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?"

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter.

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits.

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine."

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly.

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man.

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home."

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment.

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain.

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party.

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside.

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you.

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?"

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further.

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin.

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms.

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly.

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then."

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw.

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road.

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so.

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it."

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security.

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things."

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit.

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct.

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more.

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?"

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me."

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics."

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover.

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive."

"I'll try to make it as little as possible."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?"

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please."

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?"

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work."

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations."

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause."

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me."

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it.

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan."

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions."

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable."

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common."

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine."

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?"

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass."

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #bunny writes #run to you

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the-writer-ofthe-fandoms · 10 months

Text

Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen) (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader

Words: 4.0k+

Warning(s): Intense car accident scene (its a nightmare/memories. involves blood, gore/body horror), mentions of minor character death/parents dying, swearing, anxiety/stage fright, bullying at Forks mentioned but no scenes depicting it, edward watches MC sleep lmao

A/N: Here is chapter two! I really like this one personally. There is a lot of just narrative, but a good amount of dialogue too. I enjoyed writing the Edward and MC scenes :^) I hope you guys like it too. Taglist is at the bottom.

Series Masterlist

"Bright Star, while thou thy lonely way

Pursu'st in yon expanse of blue,

Thy gem-like form and steady ray

Attract the heedless peasant's view...

...And fancy whispers in mine ear,

That those who once were here beloved,

To friendship and affection dear,

Now from this fleeting scene removed,

Repose, bright star, in thy ethereal sphere."

-- William B. Tappan, "To the North Star"

---

You sigh as you look at several outfits you laid out on your bed. It was Saturday and you spent much of your time getting the last few things unpacked before tonight. The former captain, the firefighters, and the sheriff decided to throw a party at the station for your uncle. Being his immediate family, you had to attend. Your eyes lingered on an outfit that would look nice but would also be comfortable and casual.

As you started getting ready, you began recalling the week you had at your new school. Like Emmett promised, he looked out for you in gym. Apparently, some of the students thought it would be funny to try and target the new kid in the various games the teacher had the class do. Emmett stayed by your side, helping catch dodgeballs or watching your back for 'stray' balls from volleyball. He was easy to get along with. You appreciated that he was more laid back and seemed to always have a smile on his face.

You met Jasper in history. You sat next to him with Alice on his other side. He was tense and looked like he was in pain. You wanted to express concern for him, but recognized through your own experiences dealing with chronic pain from your accident that it can be annoying to have people ask if you're alright. So, you gave him a smile and as the week came on you two were friendly. Alice helped with that of course.

Alice was already treating you as if you both had known each other for years. It was overwhelming at first, but you found that her bright smile and eagerness to talk with you endearing. She has already offered to take out for a shopping and lunch day several times, which you may take her up on next weekend if she were to ask again. You appreciated her friendliness.

You met Rosalie during lunch and met her a second time by your locker; hers and Emmett's were next to yours. Edward had managed to convince you to sit with them the next day after your first. She absolutely, drop dead gorgeous and you couldn't help but stare. You remembered the tense glare she gave you when you sat with them and you almost wanted to bolt out of the cafeteria. Her face softened though when Emmett whispered something in her ear and place a quick peck on her cheek. Still, she almost kept her distance from you and made very minimal steps in engaging in conversation.

The Cullen children were nice. You would be a fool if you couldn't tell there was something amiss with them. They all had matching eyes gold eyes though you noticed by the end of Thursday a few of them had nearly pitch black eyes. There were also times when Alice would stare off to space or Edward would laugh under his breath at nothing. You remember one day you brushed your hand against Edward's as you both reached for his fallen pencil, and you noticed how cold his skin was.

But, despite the discrepancies you've picked up, you liked them. They actually sought to engage in conversation with you since they could under stand sign. Their eyes never lingered or blatantly stared at the raised scars on your neck, not even when you first met them.

That's not to say everyone else ignored you. You had some students talk to you with the help of Edward or any of the other Cullens that lingered around you, but, you could tell quite a few were hesitant in speaking with you. You could feel their curious eyes stay on your neck until yours met theirs. You were used to that from your old school, though at least most of the people here were polite.

There have been a few mean comments and some weird rumors spread about you already. Most of them revolved around you being with Edward for most of the school day. You only heard their directed comments towards you in the morning before first period, when you weren't with a Cullen. You paid it no attention. Some remarks hurt, but as long as they didn't outright say it to your face or harm you, you let their remarks roll off your back.

You applied finishing touches to your look for tonight's party as you concluded your recount of your week at Forks High. You looked in your full body mirror, smoothing our creases in the fabric before approving of what you picked out for yourself. You wondered how the party was going to go. Your uncle, Robert, and your aunt, Phoebe, were bound to go off and converse with others.

Were you to just follow them around or would you stay in a corner until the night was over?

You close your eyes and sigh deeply.

You heard your aunt call your name downstairs.

"It's almost time to go, honey!" She yelled. You open your eyes and give yourself one last glance over in the mirror. You put on a tense smile before leaving your room, heading downstairs.

"You look great." Phoebe smiled, bringing you into a tight hug. You look at her and gave her a thumbs up. She looked good too, her dress fitting her nicely and her makeup was minimal but still beautiful.

When you first started living with her and your uncle it was almost too much. Phoebe looked so much like your mother, her sister. It took a few months to not see your mother in her, but thankfully your brain, despite the trauma you experienced, started registering her as Phoebe. You two have been close since.

"You look good too. That dress is always a good choice." You sign, smiling at her.

"I'm glad you told me to hold onto it. I can't believe I considered getting rid of it when we packed." She laughed and did a small twirl.

You heard a wolf whistle and look over to the stairs at your uncle, who had a cheeky grin as he stared at his wife.

"You look stunning." He winked to your aunt. He then looked at you with a smile. "You look great too. I like what you did with your hair."

"Wow, you actually know how to dress up, Rob." You chuckle, teasing him. Robert was a big believer in comfort and practicality over looking nice so it was rare to see him in something stylish like this.

"Oh ha ha." He said dryly but kept a smile. He glanced down at his watch and his eyes widened. "Shoot, we got to get going. I don't want to be late to a party thrown for me."

---

There were a lot more people at the fire station than you were anticipating. You expected the crew and their families and the sheriff maybe, but this was a lot more than that. Forks is a small place, maybe this was a rare event here. Regardless, you were glad to see many welcome your uncle to Forks and to the station.

It had been about fifteen minutes since you and your family arrived. You had met all the other firefighters and their families; met Sheriff Charlie Swan and his daughter Bella, who you recognized from your history class; and met various of other Forks citizens who came to meet the new captain. A few familiar faces from school floated around at the station too, though you only met three that were children to the other firefighters.

You glance to the large clock on the wall and glanced to your uncle, who was with the former captain. They were getting ready to go to where a microphone was placed in the station for a welcoming speech in about 10 minutes. You were standing idly by you aunt as she conversed with a few of the wives of other firefighters. Even if you could comfortably speak, you wouldn't know what to even talk about with these women. Your aunt discussed her career as a nurse while the others talked about their jobs.

You heard your name being said behind you by an all too familiar voice. Your face brightened with a small smile when you saw Edward. Next to him was a man and woman you've never seen but could tell they were also Cullens by their golden eyes.

"I didn't expect you here." You walked up to him, then glanced at the two with him.

"My father is the chief physician in Forks so he was invited." Edward gestured to the blond man.

"Hello, I'm Carlise." He offered his hand.

"And I am Esme, Edward's mother." She also offered her hand. You shook both, noting how cold their skin was. "Alice is around here somewhere, probably talking with Bella."

"Nice to meet you both."

"It's nice to meet you too, Edward here has talked a lot about you." Esme grinned, a teasing look in her eyes. You saw Edward give her a embarrassed look which made you silently laugh.

"Ah, the man of the hour." Carlisle grinned and step forwards. You jump a little when you see your uncle's arm from your side. You didn't even hear him approach with your aunt in tow.

"You must be Dr. Cullen." Your uncle grinned. Immediately your aunt and uncle and Edward's parents fell into an easy conversation, leaving just you and Edward.

"Are you having fun?" The bronze haired male asked.

"It is nice. I've mostly been following them around." You gesture to your guardians. "I am curious about the refreshment table though, so I may head over there."

"Would you mind some company?" Edward tilted his head slightly, his lips upturned into a small smile. You give him a nod and start making your way over to the food, he followed close behind.

One thing you picked up is the Cullens drew attention no matter what. You can see people's eyes linger on you and Edward. You noticed their stares when you met his parents. And if you could find Alice, you were sure people's gazes would linger. You got used to it in school, but it seemed more awkward when it appeared many people outside of Forks High had their focus on them.

"Everything alright?" Edward's voice was soft as he spoke.

"Yep." You give him a tense smile as you reached the table, looking over the contents.

'I just wish people here didn't have staring problems. Who cares if they look good?' You thought as you grabbed a small plate and started picking up things you liked. You swore you heard Edward chuckle next to you. You look back to him and gesture to the spread as if you were asking if he was going to eat.

He held up a hand and shook his head. "We ate before we came here."

You nodded and quickly ate what you picked out.

Right as you finished your last bite, you heard tapping through the speaker. Looking over to where they set up a microphone you saw your uncle and the former captain of the station. You throw away your plate and keep your spot next to Edward.

"Thank you everyone for coming!" Theodore, the former captain, greeted. Everyone clapped and a few people let out loud 'whoops.' "We are here today to welcome Robert Kennard to the station, our new fire captain."

Your uncle waved and smiled.

"Forks welcomes you warmly, despite the constant cold weather." Many in the crowd softly chuckles at Theodore's words. "And I can speak for the crew in that everyone looks forward to working with you." The former captain steps back from the microphone, letting your uncle step up.

"Hello! Thank you guys for putting this on." He laughed and raised a glass of what you assumed was champagne. "I was concerned at first. When I got offered the position while I was still down in California, I was worried about moving my family up here... starting a new life. However, their support has been unwavering and here we are now."

You heard him call your aunt's name and your name. You froze.

You could see your aunt make her way up to him but you were hesitant. It wasn't that you didn't want to support him, but you weren't sure why a sudden rush of anxiety hit you. You take a step forward but pause.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked softly, his thick brows furrowed as he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact.

You purse your lips and give him a subtle shake of your head. You saw him look confused for a split moment before his facial expression went back to concerned.

"Would you like me to walk forward with you?" You nod at his suggested. He nodded slowly with a small smile and placed a hand between your shoulder blades. Gently, he pushed you forward and guided you to the front. His form stayed next to yours as you moved through the people to get to the front of the small crowd.

When you got close enough to your uncle, you felt Edward's hand leave your back as you kept walking forward. You glance back over your shoulder and saw him waiting at the front, his golden honey eyes never left your form. You flanked your uncle on his right while Phoebe stood at his left.

"To my lovely wife Phoebe, thank you for encouraging me to take this step in my career. Your support has me falling in love with you every second." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. People in the crowd aww'd. "And to you," He looked to you with a smile full of fondness. "Your support towards mine and your aunt's careers has been so appreciative. Raising you as if you were my own has been such a treasure, thank you." He then hugged you tightly before turning to the crowd. "Thank you guys for having us here."

The people attending clapped and cheered. You smiled at how warm the welcoming was, though that feeling of anxiety still lingered. The three of you stepped away from the microphone as the former captain came up to give a final few words. You glanced around for either Edward or Alice, but saw them both in conversation with Carlisle and Esme.

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from your family. You weave through bodies and made your way outside. The cold air immediately nipped at your face as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You walk over and lean against your uncles pick-up truck.

You look up to the night sky and smile. It seems like the constant cloud cover pulled back enough for you to see the stars and moon. You felt giddy at just how bright the stars looked. You felt at ease now. You felt comforted under the night sky.

'Ah Polaris, my old friend.' You sigh contently when you found that bright star shining brightly in the inky black sky.

"Are you okay?" Edward's voice startled you. You jumped a bit and looked back at him with wide eyes, your heart felt like it was racing wildly in your chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No worries, I assumed nobody would come outside." You offer a friendly smile, keeping your eyes on him as you felt yourself begin to ease.

"Parties aren't... my thing." He joined you, leaning against the truck. "Carlisle asked me to come along."

"I'm not big on parties like this either. I like smaller get togethers."

There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again, repeating his previous question. "Are you okay?"

You exhale, your breath visible in the air. "Yes. Just felt overwhelmed and wanted space."

"Ah. I can leave then."

"You can stay. I know you after all."

---

Edward smiled sincerely when you told him he could stay. Even though Alice and Esme did point out you left out and made comments for him to follow you, he chose to join you on his own. He wanted a moment of peace away from the other humans... and he wanted to explore your mind more.

He tried peering into your thoughts again as a comfortable silence washed over the both of you. Ever since you sat next to him on your first day at Forks High, he attempt to discern your mind. He was still confused at the presence of such a detailed cosmos that lies in your thoughts and how it wasn't always there.

Edward noticed he could always hear your thoughts when you communicated with him or others. However, outside of that he never was sure if he would be hearing your voice or viewing that space. He picked up you weren't aware of this. Nothing you ever did or said gave him any reason to suspect you were purposely putting up this galaxy to block him out. He also kept track at how the galaxy would coincide with your emotions. When you were stressed about going up to your uncle earlier, he could almost feel heat against his mind. He could see how bright the sun residing in the middle had gotten until he was pushed out, which was another thing he noticed.

It was like the galaxy was trying to keep him at arms length from you; always forcing him away from peering too deep into your mind.

Edward shifted his eyes to looking at the sky like you were doing, but his focus was purely on your thoughts. He saw the familiar galaxy once again and this time, it was the most serene he has ever seen it. The sun at the center, still bright, was calm. He didn't feel heat pushing him out. He just saw stars, planets, and various colors around. It was peaceful. Compared to the many thoughts from the party goers back in the fire station, this was nice.

Edward felt welcomed in this vast cosmos.

The scene melted away rather than push him out, causing him to look at you. You were now staring at him with an unreadable gaze.

"Do you know any constellations?" You asked him. It didn't take reading your thoughts to know how excited you were at the prospect of discussing this with him.

"No, I don't." He lied. In the 1970s he spent some time studying the stars. "But I take it you do? Can you tell me?"

"Sure!" He could barely contain the large grin threatening to form on his face at how excited you were.

He could hear your thoughts in tandem as you signed. You would tell him the constellation name and then point it out in the sky. You'd lean close to him, your arm barely brushing against his, as the the other raised up to the sky. He'd subconsciously lean in as well, easily finding said constellation on his own but he let you help him 'find' it. You hadn't mentioned to him before how much you adored stars, but it came to no surprise to him after seeing what goes on in your mind.

Showing him constellations came to an end when neither could see more through the lingering clouds. That didn't stop you from pointing out the brightest star in the black sky.

"The North Star represents guidance and direction." You explained to him. "For hundreds of years, it provided guidance to anyone who needed it in many ways."

'It helped after the accident.' Edward heard from your thoughts. It had him curious and he tried delving more but all he saw was space and felt heat keeping him at bay.

"You must really like stars." He smiled gently.

"Yes, I've been drawn to them since I was young. My dad was into anything space related, so I guess that's were it came from." You smiled, though the vampire could see a certain sadness lingering in your eyes. He then saw you shiver and immediately started shrugging off the coat he wore. "Wait, you'll get cold, Edward."

"Don't worry about me. I will be fine." He spoke softly, his lips upturned. He placed the coat over your shoulders and you gingerly slip your arms into the sleeves.

Confusion briefly flashed on your face. 'I expected some warmth. Ah well, this is still nice.'

Edward had to contain his chuckle at the thought that slipped through.

"Do you still want to stay out here for a few more minutes?" He asked.

"Yes, just a few more minutes."

---

It was near midnight when Edward slowly opened your bedroom window. He felt some guilt as he waited for you to finally fall asleep, but his interest in your mind hand him wondering what he would see when you were unconscious. Would that galaxy appear to him when you were asleep, or would he have full access to your dreams?

He easily slipped into your room, leaving the window open. His eyes scanned around at the various posters you had placed on the walls and the decorations lying around. He saw one half unpacked box in the corner then shifted his gaze to you, tucked under your covers in a deep slumber. There were a few plushies in bed with you and he couldn't contain a small smile when he saw one on the floor. Carefully and silently, he walked over and crouched down. He picked up the stuffed cat and leaned over, setting it aside next to the others. He found himself back near the window and zeroed in on your mind.

He saw a grassy field and a woman sitting on a blanket. He heard high pitched giggles from who he assumed was you as you ran around. It was clear he was seeing your memories. You were running, squealing, and giggling in what Edward could make out as a park. You glanced behind yourself as you ran and could see a man chase after you. He could make out the similarities in his face with your current face. Suddenly, you tumbled and hit the ground with an 'oof.' Your father immediately helped you up and sat you on his knee.

"Aww, poor baby. Are you okay?" He cooed.

"Yeah! My leg hurts, but I'm fine!" You giggled. Your father held your leg and your focus was now on your bloody knee.

"Hmm, you must of snagged it on a rock. Lets get you back to momma, my little nova." You were lifted up and Edward watched through your memories as you were brought to your mother on a picnic blanket.

Suddenly, he thrown into a new memory. He suddenly felt dread in his being.

It was dark.

He could hear what sounded like a car blinker non-stop clicking. You groggily blink and Edward started making out that you were upside down. He heard gargling and pained noises come from you. Your eyes barely focused but he started making out you were upside down in a car at night. He can see bright lights from the front and shards of glass. Then he sees all the blood and what looked like a severed arm on the ground. It was attatched to a feminine hand with a gold band on the ring finger.

"Sweetie? Oh God..." He sounded in pain and like he was crying. Edward then heard your name from your father. "Nova please answer me. Fuck, please."

You responded, but it wasn't a word. It sounded like you tried to say daddy, but it came our jumbled and wet.

"Nova-!"

Suddenly, all Edward could hear was a high pitched noise. It was the same he heard when Alice replayed her vision to him. A blinding light filled the car.

Then, it was that same galaxy. However, it was turbulent. He could see planets shake and stars dim. A sun, larger than ever glowed brightly before an eruption from the Sun's atmosphere blasts out and hits hum with intense heat. He stumbles back as his vision is back in your room, right as you woke up gasping for air.

Without you catching him, he was out of your room and in the forest. His eyes were blown wide and if he had to breath, he knew the wind would of been knocked out of him at all he viewed. He felt the sting of venom-tears fill his eyes.

"Fuck..." He muttered and sat down on the forest floor. His fingers carded his hair before he clutched tuffs.

---

Taglist: @buckybarnes-1917, @trawberry-fire , @dreamy-caramel, @urgirlfriendspage

#edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen imagines #edward cullen imagine #twilight #twilight saga #twilight edward #twilight edward cullen #twilight x reader #twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #silent cosmos

359 notes · View notes

shina913 · 7 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where....reader is going to get a pedicure but her normal nail tech is out, and the owner's cute son (you pick the member) who's back in town volunteers to do reader's appointment. (hehehe)

Jess!!! I did it 🤣 I didn’t think I could but I actually had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for this ask. I hope I did it justice 💜

******

Self-Care Sunday | JJK

Pairing: NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Meet cute; fluff

Warnings: Some naughty thoughts but nothing explicit; slight references to gender stereotypes and occupations

Word count: 3k+words

Summary: You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

A/N: Just for fun! Also, I was too impatient and wanted to actually post on a Sunday, which is why I didn’t have time to find a proper banner image for this. I’ll fix that tomorrow 😅 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes 🥰 hope you all enjoy this!

Every weekend, you make a point to treat yourself to some form of pampering. Whether you went out to get your hair done or simply curled up on your couch to enjoy a book, ‘Self-Care Sunday’ was a big deal for you. It was a way to reset and prepare for the week ahead.

This weekend, you’re going for a mani-pedi. You walk into the nail salon about five minutes before your appointment time.

The small reception booth in front is empty, but the rest of the ladies who are busy with customers pause to greet you since you’re a regular. You begin to scan the room for your usual manicurist, hoping to check in and get set up.

Oddly, she’s nowhere in sight so you ask one of the ladies closest to you, who was giving a pedicure to another client.

“Annie just left. She said she was feeling sick,” she says to you.

“Oh no.” You look around again to see that everyone else is tending to their own clients. There’s no way any of these ladies would be able to take you on this morning. You’re disappointed but it’s not the end of the world. “I guess I could just reschedule my appointment–”

“No, hun, you don’t have to! It’s why she didn’t call to cancel. Our manager will take care of you.”

The salon’s manager, Lily, wasn’t afraid to jump in to help out whenever it was busy. It was a small comfort to know that the day wasn’t going to be a complete waste and you knew that you were in good hands.

The nail technician points to the vacant spa chair next to her and you help yourself. She pauses her work to fill the basin with warm water so you can soak your feet in while waiting for the manager.

“He’ll be right out, okay?” She says with a smile before turning back to her client.

Your eyebrows scrunch in curiosity. You could have sworn she said 'he,' but maybe you were hearing things. You dismiss the thought and activate the massage function on your chair, then start scrolling through your phone while waiting.

A few minutes later, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. As the figure settles on the low stool in front of you, you raise your head to greet them. Your voice gets caught in your throat when you realize that it isn't Lily.

"Hi!"

You’re stunned at the sight of a man sitting in front of you. He looks young and devastatingly hot. You would never expect to see someone who looked like him at a nail salon, let alone working at one. His big, round, beautiful eyes make you want to melt into the water your feet were soaking in.

“Uhm…h-hi,” you choke out once your brain lurches back to life. “I thought the manager was going to do my mani-pedi.”

He grins proudly, spreading a towel on the footrest of the spa chair. "Yep! You're looking at him!"

You feel confused. Did Lily quit or hire someone new? It’s been three weeks since your last appointment. In the background, you hear the other nail technicians giggling amongst themselves.

Seeing the worried look on your face, he explains, "My mom is taking a break, so I'm filling in for her."

You vaguely remember Lily mentioning her children in passing. Since she looks relatively young for her age, she’s always said that people are shocked to hear when she tells them that she has a grown son.

Well, consider yourself shaken to the core.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he extends his hand towards you. You're both baffled and overwhelmed by how handsome he looks. The massage chair's tapping setting propels you forward, snapping you out of your daze.

You reach forward to shake his hand and introduce yourself. Although he has a firm grip, his hands are surprisingly soft, sending a chill down your spine.

“When Annie said that she wasn’t feeling well, I offered to take the rest of her appointments for the day,” he divulges.

You look at him skeptically. You’ve never received a manicure and pedicure from a male technician before—especially not from one who was this cute.

He chuckles. "I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'Does this guy even know what the hell he's doing?' Well, let me assure you that my mom personally trained me. If she's ever worked on you, you can expect the same level of quality from me. But I understand if you feel uneasy. The last thing I want is for a client to feel that way.”

You’re still apprehensive but he sounds confident. You get a grip and nod, giving him consent to continue with the appointment.

“Thanks,” he says softly and with a look of relief. “You booked a deluxe pedicure and manicure, right?”

The deluxe mani-pedi comes with a longer-than-usual massage on your hands and feet. Thinking about this man's hands kneading your tired muscles makes you sweat.

“Y-yes, I did,” you nervously confirm.

He nods in acknowledgment, and you gulp as he begins to dip the pumice sponge into the basin to scrub your heels. He’s careful and gentle with each pass, totally unlike what you’ve been used to. It’s a stark contrast to these ladies, who have manhandled you in surprising ways—especially the petite, older techs. They’re still sweet, though, and they do a great job, but you admit that this is a nice change of pace.

The rest of your pedicure prep goes smoothly until it was time for the massage.

He drains the water from the basin then he props your feet on the footrest. The stool is too low for his frame but he doesn’t complain. He’d rather make the adjustment so you wouldn’t have to bend awkwardly from your seat.

After drying your feet with a towel, he squeezes some lotion into his hands and starts massaging it into your calf muscles. Typically, some ladies prefer to keep their gloves on for sanitary purposes, but Jungkook has taken off his gloves just before the massage. You figured he was the manager on duty, so he could do whatever he wanted. And not that you had any objections, as the skin-on-skin contact feels nice. Better, actually.

You don't know why, but your gaze is drawn to his thighs, which are spread widely in front of you. It's incredibly distracting and you struggle to look away. You wonder if the awkward positioning of his knees against the spa chair is causing him to sit like that, or if there is something else between his legs that he's trying to adjust for.

“Is the pressure okay?” His question pulls you back into reality.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's good. It's fine," you manage to cobble together. His touch is firm, yet gentle enough to be relaxing. Silently, you think, if he was this good with your legs, how would his hands feel on the rest of your body?

"Are you sure? I could apply more, if you prefer. I always try to start off slow, but I can go deeper, depending on how you like it."

You grip the chair's armrests in response as your mouth goes dry. "N-no, you don’t need to go deeper. What you're doing is...great.” Your voice comes out breathy, but in an effort to distract yourself, you dig your phone out of your purse and start randomly scrolling through your social media feed. Now was not the time to be getting horny over your nail technician.

He suppresses a smile at your response. "Okay then.”

******

You manage to survive the rest of the pedicure without any additional incidents, much to your relief. He slips your sandals back onto your feet with ease, without smudging your freshly painted toes, and helps you over to the manicure table.

Once you settle in your seat, you rest your hands on the cushion and dip them into a cuticle-softening solution while he sets up the rest of his tools. While waiting for your fingers to soak up the solution, he checks in with you.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I’m good right now, thanks.”

"Okay.” Then, he leans in, lowers his voice, and asks, “How do you think I’m doing so far?"

You smile warmly at him. "I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised." Your toes didn't look streaky, nor did he get polish on your skin. You were impressed!

Your response makes him smile from ear to ear, his nose crinkling in amusement.

"Thanks. I know most women think it's weird to get a mani-pedi from a dude."

You sigh and decide to fess up. He seemed self-aware and appreciated honesty. "Well, I have to be honest—I was definitely apprehensive at first," you admit then follow it with a shrug. "But then I thought, hey, it's a job. If you can do it and have the skills for it? Why not? It shouldn't be restricted by gender."

His brow arches at your remark. "My thoughts exactly!" He agrees emphatically.

You feel another spark of electricity surge through you as he lifts your hand. You watch as he examines your fingers under the light.

“Mm…nice, long, nail beds.” His compliment followed but his thumb brushing over your fingers makes your belly flutter.

“But I bet you probably get that a lot,” he adds with a laugh.

“Not as often as you think,” you say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was coming onto you.

“Just a regular manicure, right? Not gel?”

“Yeah. I thought, if I got the gel, I can’t get the usual hand massage—”

“I can still give you the massage,” he interjects.

“Oh. But what about the oils? I thought it’s not good for the gel base?” You hesitate.

He shrugs as if it's a non-factor. "I can do the massage after I cure your nails under the light. That way, the polish adheres nicely and it’ll be all set. But if you still prefer a regular manicure, that's fine—we’ll do that. I just want you to know that you have the option," he assures you.

You purse your lips to think for a few seconds. “Well, if you’re sure the massage won’t mess with the gel—”

“It won’t, I promise!” He says confidently. “My mom’s old school and she’d never do it that way but I think that you can still make it work.” After he says it out loud, one of the female technicians next to him scoffs. Seems like she prefers the standard method, too.

Jungkook rolls his eyes subtly at her reaction and turns his attention back to you. “If you don’t like it, I’ll give you your money back.”

That sounded fair to you.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After you decide on gel polish colors, he begins to trim your cuticles and file your nails. But just when you thought you could easily survive the pedicure, him being this close, and at eye-level, was going to be an uphill battle. He looks so focused and precise in his movements; it’s relaxing to watch. Even the little pout he does while maneuvering your finger to apply the polish with the utmost precision to cover every surface of your nail is cute.

You make small talk while he works. Not the usual gossip that you’re used to with the female technicians. You feel comfortable around him but not enough to spill all of your secrets.

“So, are you doing this full-time?”

“No,” he answers before he guides your hand into the curing lamp. “I have a day job but I mostly work from home. My mom said that needed help and I didn’t hesitate to step up. She works very hard.”

Oh no…he’s not only cute but he also loves his mom. You can’t help but feel endeared. You also note that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. Lily hasn’t mentioned any daughters-in-law, that you recall.

You decide to sound casual to break the tension a bit. “This job must be a great way to pick up women, too, huh?”

He pauses before meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth curves into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your cheeks heat up. You immediately realize that your comment may have crossed a line, thinking you were at that level of comfort with him just because he touched your bare feet. You kick yourself internally for being presumptuous.

“S-sorry,” you shyly tear your eyes away from him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

He brushes off the exchange. “It’s cool. Honestly, there aren’t many women falling over themselves to go out with a male nail technician,” he says in jest. “Some people have specific perceptions. They’re usually wrong but I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel bad as you’d made assumptions about him too. “I mean, I think you have a lot of patience to be working on nails. Not to mention that you’re a handsome guy who gives great foot massages. I don’t see why any woman wouldn’t want to get more of that.” You catch yourself too late when you realize what you’ve just said.

He snorts your comment but doesn’t pile on it. “You’d think, right?”

You clear your throat and attempt to recover. “Well, you’re also easy to talk to. You keep the conversation flowing.” Your voice is still tight, embarrassed from your ‘cute guy who gives great foot massages’ comment.

“I appreciate that,” he smiles. He examines your nails, one last time, running the pads of his fingers over the polish to make sure that it has set properly. When he’s satisfied, he says, “Looks good. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can get to your hand massage.” He excuses himself and gathers his tools to soak them in a cleaning solution.

When he walks away and disappears into the back room, you release a breath you seemed to be holding in for far too long. You’d never been this wound up during a mani-pedi.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a warm towel down. He then moves the magnifying lamp out of the way, giving you a complete and unobstructed view of him. Unfortunately, this doesn't bode well for you.

“So, do you have any plans after this?” He asks casually while massaging circles into your forearms.

You’re all flustered again. “Not much. Maybe I’ll grab some mid-day coffee or something then head home.”

“Nice. Where do you grab coffee?” The feel of him dragging the pads of his fingers on your slicked skin, couple with his piercing gaze are causing your breathing to go ragged again. Suddenly, your brain blanks out on where your favorite coffee spot is.

“Just, uhm—” you struggle to pull the name out of your memory at first but manage to blurt it out when he squeezes your fingers. “It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. I don’t live in this neighborhood so I’m not familiar.” His thumb and forefinger knead your muscles in a way that should normally not feel arousing to you, but it does. And you can’t help when your thoughts slide back into wondering what else those magic fingers can do.

“I figured, if I was going to be helping out here more, maybe I should get to know the area– especially places to eat. You think you can you give me directions to the cafe?”

You shift in your seat. “Well, it’s sort of a hole-in-the-wall place. The GPS is kind of spotty on it. You have to be a local to really know where it’s at.”

“Well, my break’s coming up after this. Maybe we can drive together?”

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize it. He's not stupid, and you were right – he's definitely self-aware. He knows that you're affected by him. Smiling to yourself, you’re happy to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

Your eyebrows twitch at how forward he’s being. “A break? But it’s only 11:30?” You laugh.

“What can I say? I think I worked you really hard–”

His response makes your eyes bulge and causes your jaw to drop.

“Oh, sorry–I meant to say, you worked me really hard.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and it makes him laugh out loud, too. He was a cocky little shit but you’re not mad at it.

When your laughs die down, he says, “I think we can both agree that we did our best to fight this–” he gestures at the space between you two.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask playfully.

"Yeah. I think we deserve a little treat. Maybe grab some lunch, wherever you want." You’re mildly aware that the massage is over but his fingers are still lingering on your hands while he patiently waits for your answer.

This is one of the most unusual ways you've been asked out, but there's a first time for everything. After thinking it over, you decide to give it a chance. "Okay. But if I agree to go to lunch with you, do I still need to tip you for the mani-pedi?”

He purses his lips in thought for a few seconds before countering. "Tell you what—if you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, the service is on the house. We can call it even then.”

His playful proposition catches you off guard but it also intrigues you. Again, you find yourself unable to resist his charm.

“Alright.”

Your response makes him smile full-on and it’s infectious, so you can’t help but smile back. He starts to clean up his station, then turns to the older nail technician next to him who saw the whole situation unfold.

“Auntie, please don’t tell my mom,” he whispers mischievously, causing her to laugh after she agrees not to rat him out.

You giggle at his request and tell him, “I guess I’ll meet you out front whenever you’re ready?”

“Sounds good. We’ll take my car so we don’t ruin my masterpiece there,” he points at your hands.

You laugh at his retort and shake your head. Never in a million years did you ever think that you’d find a date a the nail salon. It’s one of the better things to come out of your Self-Care Sundays.

Main Fic Masterlist

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writing-in-the-impala · 6 months

Text

Secret Smokes (Part 6)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Hello I’m posting from my phone as I’m currently travelling so the formatting may be messed up. Sorry! It literally took me forever to do this formatting on my phone so this is the best you’re getting. I wanted to update this week not to leave you all hanging for a while again so deal with it. Love you tho!

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 6, Next Chapter

The weekend came around quickly as it usually did when you had so much work, you didn't speak with Lupin about his Lycanthropy or about your friendship again since that day instead you actually ended up opting out of the evening meetings to spend time with your age appropriate friends and to attend the duelling club run by Sebastian. Maybe it was out of self preservation that you avoided Lupin as your feelings towards Lupin became more clouded with each day, it definitely wasn't a school girl crush on the new profesor it was deeper than that, the thought of his hand on your lap or him calling you dear made you want to blush.

You were with a small group of friends that the twins organised, and at one moment someone suggested drinking games and all of you quickly became a lot more drunk. About half way through your night you saw a few teachers come in, Lupin included, you smiled at him as others greeted him and the other teachers as the walked in and sat on the opposite side of the pub. Lupin would look over to your table every so often but you barely ever noticed as you weren't the sharpest on instinct when you got drunk. He noticed when you looked at him, a few of the other girls at your table were also looking at him but he was only looking back at you, you didn't know but all he could think about was how you started to ignore him after he took you to the lake, he believed he messed up with that conversation. You pretend to be okay with it because you're a good person but like everyone you're scared and you are allowed to be, but it hurt him to have you avoid him. "Look Professor Lupin is looking right at us." One of the pretty Ravenclaw girls whispered to the rest of the girls who were in the area. "Do you think he gets off on the attention from students? He wants us to look at him?" Another Slytherin girl replied. "I don't know but I hope so, I'd like to help him get off." The first girl replied. "I'm going for a cigarette, Fred, George , care to join?" You stood up and the twins followed, you made eye contact with Lupin and quickly flashed him your pack of cigarettes and motioned your head towards the door not thinking about who he was, in your mind you were just inviting a friend out for a smoke.

You needed to escape the conversation inside, it made you uncomfortable how many girls wanted Lupin and it did seem like he was looking over and enjoying the attention. Lupin walked out and lit a cigarette of his own standing not too far away from you and the twins, just the sight of him and the alcoholic mixed made you feel like the temperature went up as soon as he was outside. "Profesor Lupin care to join us?" Fred said winking at you quickly.

"I don't want to interrupt." He replied gently.

"Interrupt?" Fred asked. "It's not interrupting if you've been invited." George added. Lupin walked over closer to you guys and joined in a mundane discussion about how schools should allow a certain level of pranks as a sign of magic practice. After about five minutes Fred and George quickly made a excuse to go back inside leaving you alone with Lupin, the alcohol still pulsing through your skin, it fell silent as you both just looked at each other. "Hey." You said "Hey." He replied softly taking a step closer. "You know I've never seen you drunk." He said softly. "You smell of fire whiskey." You replied to suggest he is also drunk. "Not as much as you dear." He replied that one word shooting through your body making your heart beat a bit faster you didn't know how to reply. "Y/N, have I offended or upset you?"

"No I have drank quite a bit I do understand that I smell like-"

"No, I meant the other day at the lake."

"What? How was that meant to upset me. That was one of the most beautiful things I've seen moon boy." You said immediately regretting the last word.

"I was worried my condition did in fact scare you."

"No I already knew,"

"You just seemed to avoid me after..."

"I don't care about your condition, I had plans I should have probably warned you, I wasn't avoiding you."

"I'm glad to hear that, I was worried... now let's go back to moon boy?"

"I know I regret it already I think moony would've been better, I was just trying to say something to make it seem like I don't care about you being you but now I realised it sounded horrible and you're my teacher so maybe calling you that is inappropriate." He laughed in reply.

"You really do smell of fire whiskey profesor." You said your internal monologue out loud.

"How about now." He took another step closer to you.

"I'm not sure maybe another half a step." You said even though the space between you was minimal. "Accio." He gently whispered and you were magically pulled towards him nearly crashing into his chest. "How about now?" You felt his breathe with every word he was so close to you. In this moment you forgot that he was your profesor your body was on fire you were turned on and aching to kiss him. He laughed when you didn't reply just looked at him in the eyes and he took a step back. "Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning back on the wall behind him creating space as you stood frozen in the same place.

"I'm just drunk, can't think straight." You said sitting down on the floor.

"Do I need to get you back to your friends?" He asked kneeling down besides you and lightly stroking your head.

"No I'm enjoying myself right here." You replied and he stood up leaving you, confusion hit, did you upset him? He was the one flirting with you. He came back moments later with a glass of water. "Here you go." He handed you the water and you looked curiously at him. "Drink." He insisted. "Thank you profesor."

"How much did you drink dear?" He was standing above you, hands in his pockets while you looked up to him.

"Enough that I'm scared I'll say the wrong thing and reveal too much."

"About my condition to others?" he sat down besides you seeming more serious now.

"No... I can't say you're my teacher." You look down at your feet avoiding his eyes. "Tell me dear." He pressed.

"Don't use that word."

"What word?"

"You know what word."

"Why dear?"

"Because it feels like I'm on fire when you use it." You said instantly regretting it.

"Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned on closer to your ear and whispered “I know."He licked his lips as he watched you look back at him with a shocked expression. "It's time you go back to your friends." He continued as he stood up.

"But I want to stay and talk with you."

"I believe we've both already said too much." He held his hand out to you and helped you stand up. You didn't say anything else but rather allowed him to open the door for you and you walked in as he followed, you walked over to the table with your friends and he went over to his table no more words spoken. "So how was your flirting session with Lupin?" Fred whispered in your ear. "Shut it Weasley." You stated while looking up at Lupin who was too busy laughing along to someone's joke to notice you. "What did I miss?" You asked George. "Nothing it's getting a bit boring here I think we should go find some fun out of here" he replied. "I agree I am sick of listening to who has a crush on who at this table." Fred said grabbing his jacket and standing up. "A lot have been taking about their crushes on you," Fed said while leaning out a hand to help you stand up and then looping it with yours while waking out the pub. "Our dear old Percy has competition, apparently that Swallow Slytherin guy is talking about you." George filled you in on the gossip. "Yet we all know none of them have a chance don't we Y/N." He said with a wink and you nodded. "Your profesor watched us walk out, his eyes were glued to you." George added.

"Oh not you too." You said laughing I'm disbelief.

"Y/N don't deny it." Fred said.

"Where did this rumour come from between you two?" You asked as the three of you walked back towards the castle.

"Well you may not know dear old Lupin is a friend of our mums," Fred began. "Friend of Harry's parents and through that our mums so we know him a bit." George added.

"Now we know you quite well and this year is the first year you're gone every evening and you're actually going to lessons..." Fred explained.

"That doesn't mean I like Lupin." You protested.

"But blushing when you hear his name or staring at him whenever he's in the same area as you-" Fred continued.

"Okay maybe I have a school girl crush on him but what girl doesn't." You said and the guys looked at you as if to say that they know it's not a school girl crush. "let's keep this between us. And not telling poor Percy he'll be heartbroken." You warned them and they promised to keep your secret.

On Monday you received an OWL from Lupin cancelling your tutoring sessions for this week as he had "prior commitments". You looked over to him after receiving the OWL but he was busy in his own conversation and didn't even glance towards you. You usually saw him in the corridors during the day and would share a smile but today it seemed like he disappeared completely.

During his DADA lesson he made the class write a essay "once you are done please leave your parchment on my desk and you're free to leave." He said before sitting down and beginning to mark some other years work. You spent the lesson looking over towards him but he was starting down he almost looked uncomfortable. You couldn't concentrate on the work so you just sat there looking at him, how he was writing, how he breathed, how he moved and then he looked up making eye contact with you. Your body froze you felt like you had just been caught he looked straight back down before you could look away. His eyes had no feeling behind them it felt like a completely different person to the guy who used magic to bring you closer to him or said the word "dear" gently to light your body on fire. After you finished your work you took your paper to his desk he didn't even look up when you put it down but you knew he knew it was you. "Profesor may I have a word?" You asked him in a whisper.

"Miss L/N other students are still finishing their work is this urgent." He sounded and looked annoyed.

"No profesor I just wanted to know why you've cancelled my tutoring for this week." You felt like you've messed up, he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

"As I've already mentioned I have prior commitments." He replied not even looking up from his papers this time. You didn't press you just left the room and that was it. From that point onwards he no longer came to the bridge and you no longer went there either you checked the map every evening in case he decides to go but no, the next week the same repeated the cancelled your lessons and stayed far away from the bridge. If you knew this would happen you wouldn't have spoken to him at all at the three broomsticks. The way he looked at you or should I say didn't look at you during DADA was becoming too painful so you started skipping his lessons. You would see him in the great hall and he would never look back at you. It was horrible it made those two weeks feel like the longest two weeks at Hogwarts if your life.

You began occupying a lot of your time with the duelling club, Sebastian was quite friendly for a Slytherin and he taught you a lot. You were becoming quite fond of him and you could tell he had a crush on you. You began thinking more often that maybe Sebastian is the exact distraction you need to get over your school girl crush, you enjoyed the attention. He was missing the soul Lupin had, Lupin was the only person you could speak so deeply with. Sebastian was your age and not a profesor but you just didn't find him as attractive so your mind was still stuck on Lupin, this didn't prevent your friendship with Sebastian developing.

Sunday evening you had nothing to do so you were wandering around the lake while the sun was setting, you spent the time thinking about Lupin as you sat near the water reading a muggle book. As it got dark you went back into the castle and that's when you bumped into Sebastian. "Look who it is!" He announced while approaching you and going in for a hug to say hello. "Sebastian." You acknowledge him.

"What have you been up to sport?" He asks you as you continue to walk back to the dorm. "Killing time." You said lifting your book.

"You should've said we could've killed time together if you know what I mean." He said as you slowly walked passed the bridge you looked at it longingly .

"What do you mean?" You asked intriguingly.

"Well instead of reading that... what is it?"

"It's a muggle book." You're replied holding it up. "I forget you're into boring stuff like that. Well darling instead of some boring muggle book me and you could've spend a nice Sunday together. You know I could take you out to some nice places forget about Hogsmeade we could travel into the city." He boasted.

"Really?" You said a bit unamused he was nice but he sometimes was cocky and you hated that.

"I've got my ways darling." He said with a wink at the same time you heard someone clearing their throat behind you, both your heads snapped backwards to see Lupin.

"Are you both aware that you're out last curfew." Lupin stated and you check the time.

"Profesor we apologies but it is only by 3 minutes, we're heading back to our dorms." Sebastian insisted

"Mr Sallow, the Slytherin dorm is the opposite direction." Lupin pointed out. "You better start going that way or I will have to give you and Miss L/N detention as well as take away house points."

"Yes Professor, bye Y/N." He said hugging you good bye "Good night profesor." He said walking away and you replied with your own goodbye and good night ready to quickly run back to your dorm. "Not so quickly I need to speak to you." He stopped you and you nodded. He began walking back towards the bridge and you followed him. He stood in his usual spot lighting a cigarette and you just watched him, he handed you one but you refused it. "I don't like when he speaks like that to you." He stated while looking out from the bridge, you didn't reply since when could he decides how people speak to you, he didn't even speak to you. "Do you like it?" He asked looking at you this time and you looked back into his eyes seeing hurt in his eyes, which didn't make sense considering the hurt he was causing you over the last two weeks. "Why have you been ignoring me?" You asked.

"I've put distance between us because as your teacher I'm concerned you're becoming too close to me. I am responsible for you here and your parents put trust in us to keep you safe."

"Who are you keeping me safe from?" You snapped back it felt like you could cry at any moment hearing how much distance he's put between the two of you.

"Me." He replied sternly. "Now answer my question, do you like it?" He didn't break eye contact.

"No." You replied looking back into his eyes.

"Very well." He replied putting his cigarette out. "I expect to see you in your tutoring session on Monday and in my lessons. From now on no more skipping, do you understand?" You nodded in reply. "Now you should get back to your dorm it's past curfew. He said beginning to walk away, one hand in pocket not looking back at you. If he did look back he would see how confused you looked. You felt almost like you could cry from the overwhelming mix of feelings he had caused.

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