#Weekend Cocktail Club | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rcvcgers · 4 months ago

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Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter five: just a taste

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

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18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you attend your friend's bachelorette party and get really, really drunk. choices and calls are made. caleb shows up and things get heated!

word count: 8.9k words

warnings: not proofread! READER IS MESSY AND DRUNK!

author's note: hihi! things have spiced up! ooh la la ... i hope you enjoy the chapter! please comment because i love hearing what you all have to say!!!!!! please drink responsibly and make good choices!!!!!!!! also i haven’t written smut in a hot minute so please go easy on me!

content warning: it gets smutty. fingering, making out, tongues!, oral (f receiving), fingering, vulgar language, drunken consent given (REMEMBER TO ALWAYS GIVE CONSENT AND BE SOBER WHEN DOING IT OKAY THIS IS FICTION NOT REAL LIFE)

my rotten apples <3 : @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer , @bitchyzombienacho

want to be added to the taglist? click here!

The bass from the nightclub’s speakers vibrates your body. The lights flash on and off, other club patrons jumping up and down as confetti is launched into the air. The silver and gold pieces fall from the ceiling. You tilt your chin up, mind in a complete and utter haze, as the shining pieces flutter onto your skin.

Jane, your friend and bride-to-be, takes your hands. The two of you stand in the middle of the packed dance floor. Sweaty bodies surround you, the air humid as you sing along to the song. Jane twirls in front of you and your hands attach to her waist, helping spin her under the spotlight. She pushes back into you. The two of you yell the song lyrics, dancing with each other, and watch as men stare up and down your bodies. You can barely make out her laughs from over the blaring music.

This is the third club of the night that you and Jane and her bachelorette party have gone to. In the heart of Linkon, there’s a whole city street lined with bars and clubs. It’s typically packed on the weekends. You’ve always driven by have never gone inside, sticking with the bars you know well, never daring to venture outside of your comfort zone.

So when you entered the third club of the night, which goes by the name of Kaleidoscope, you were enthralled when you came to the, very drunken, realization that you love dancing and drinking and having a good time with your friends. It’s a fantastic change of pace compared to the angsty days you’ve been enduring.

The alcohol and music was a good distraction from a certain someone who remained on your mind. You used the hands and touch of other men in the club, under the colorful flashes of lights, to replacing the tingling feeling on your lips and hips and waist.

Your night soon became blurred together. Jane and her friends kept passing you shots and drinks and you drowned them as soon as they touched your hand. You loved any drink they gave you. The fruity cocktails were fun to chug and they went down easy whereas the harder and stronger cocktails took you an extra second or two to finish.

It doesn’t matter what you drink, though! You aren’t planning on remembering this night anyways! So to hell with it! You’re going to have all the Dirty Shirley’s and Gin Fizz’s you want! Nobody is there to stop you from having a good time!

Especially not a tall, handsome man with the most perfect eyes in a uniform who has been on your mind all day.

He is not here to hinder your plan to get absolutely fucked.

Jane takes your hands, holding on tight, and guides the two of you out from the claustrophobic dance floor. The air becomes more and more pure, well, as pure as it can be, and you swear you can catch a whiff of plain air compared to the mixture of pungent colognes, sultry perfumes, and body odor from the dance floor.

“Another drink?” Jane slurs, smiling brightly at you. Her fiancé, who is just one of the greatest guys ever so you can’t even hate on him, was kind enough to get your group VIP treatment from the Kaleidoscope team. Your large booth sits to the side of the dance floor, which is in the center of the building, and you have three bottle girls waiting to help you out with drinks for the night.

“Excuuuuuse me?” Jane leans over the edge of the leather couch, drunkenly waving her hand around. You swat at her but miss, falling forward, unable to stop yourself. Your face lands into Jane’s chest and she giggles, pushing you off of her. One of the waitresses comes up to you two with a smile on her face. Jane fixes her hair and puts on her best behavior, smiling back, “May we please have…”

Her words trail off, leaving you and the waitress in an anticlimactic silence. She blinks and her eyes roll into the back of her head, the bride-to-be plopping into the back of the couch. You turn to the waitress, chuckling. Your body sways back and forth, vision slightly blurred, as you finish Jane’s request.

“Two waters? Please?” You talk slow, trying to annunciate your words as clear as you can for the waitress. She nods with a smile, shaking her head as she walks away. You nod, turning back to Jane, shaking her arm. “She does NOT get paid enough to deal with usssss! We’re the worst!”

“We’ll tip her,” Jane grumbles and waves her hand in your face. You smack it away and look at the dance floor.

The other bridesmaids dance with random men and women of their picking. Some of them are about to take their clothes off and turn this into a whole new club when the designated mother of the group stops them. You shake your head and laugh.

The entire bachelorette party is a whole bunch of idiots. Idiots who needed to get away from their domestic lives and have a night where they can act like the party girls they used to be. You raise an eyebrow, watching as one of Jane’s friend, who a literal mother, shoves her tongue down a random man’s throat.

“Get it, girl,” you whisper with a slow nod, drawing your attention back to Jane. She stares at you with big eyes, scaring you. You gasp and push her away but she comes right back, getting even close this time.

“Stop that.” She says.

“Stop…stop what?!” Your hand flies over your heart. You blink like your life depends on it, your drunken state slightly sobering from the encounter. Jane shrugs and falls back into the couch, staring at the disco ball that hangs over the table.

“It’s kinda weird that it’s just hanging there,” she points to the glass ball.

This whole interaction has you feeling such whiplash. You’re unsure of how you got to this point in the conversation.

“I guess…it’s kind of like a kaleidoscope,” you try your best to respond, the dizziness slowly leaving your mind. Your body stops spinning and your sways become a lot less noticeable. You sharply inhale and smile at the waitress who comes back with two water bottles. You take them and thank her. Just as she’s about to leave, Jane grabs her by the wrist, shooting up from the leather couch cushions.

“Fourteen porn star shots!” She collapses into the leather once again.

“She’s terrifying,” the waitress points to Jane.

“Yeah…she is…I’m so sorry about her,” you sheepishly smile at the woman but she rolls her eyes at you, walking the hell out of the VIP section.

“Have you found your prey yet?” Jane asks. Your turn and look down at her, one eyebrow perking up. “What? Did you already forget your plan on being a big ol’ slut?”

“I had a plan to be a slut?” You repeat.

“Not just any slut…….a BIG fuckin’ slut.” Jane holds her hands out as if she’s about to light up a sign. You laugh and take a water bottle, chugging it in one go. “Do you really not remember?”

You shake your head at her. Some of the girls from the party join you in the booth, just in time as the waitress comes back with a tray filled with the porn star shots Jane ordered. You swipe two of the plastic shot glasses from the tray, handing one to Jane. Her eyes are half-lidded, borderline closed, and she begins to slump over. You hold her up, one hand smushed against her face.

You drink your shot with ease, the drunkenness quickly finding its way back to you. Jane opens her mouth when you wave the shot glass in front of her face, making an airplane noise, before pouring it into her mouth. She smiles and lets out an “ahh” when she’s done.

“So,” a woman by the name of Tonya, one of Jane’s co-workers she’s bonded with, drops onto the couch next to you. You turn and face her, looking up. She’s tall and muscular. If you didn’t know any better, you’d give up your life if it means she’d give you a chance. Unfortunately, she’s married with kids. Bummer. “Have you found your man yet?”

“She hasn’t!” Jane’s hand pops up. It’s like she’s resurrected once again but is fully awake and present. She leans over you, taking Tonya’s hands. “We need to find her a hunk of a man so she can forget about Caleb!”

“Yes! Someone whose nickname is, like, ‘Minotaur’ or ‘The Machine’!” Tonya and Jane feed off of each other’s excitement. The rest of the group joins in, adding to the already long list of needs you have for your future man.

“He needs to be tall!”

“A lottttttt of muscle! Those shoulders are like handlebars, girl, you just need to hold on!”

“Someone who won’t come with any strings attached!”

“HIS COCK NEEDS TO BE HUGE TOO! If you ain’t gargling, you’re not doing it right!”

Horrified by the last comment, you stand from the couch, phone in hand. You take the last shot and drink it, the fruity liquors easily running down your throat. You look to the dance floor, trying to see if any of the men stand out to you. You sigh, sadness sweeping over your tipsy body.

You hate to admit it, but all you really want is him.

Him and his tall frame. Those violet eyes you can stare at for ages and never get tired of. You’ve seen his muscles through his clothes. His shoulders are strong and sturdy. You can still the lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands slipped under your shirt, calloused hands taking hold of your waist. He took control and you let him.

Wait — shit — no! Aren’t you supposed to hate him? He’s turned your life upside down in the span of a quick month. You can’t fantasize about him and his plush lips or the way he looks at you when you speak, making you feel so seen.

Fuck. You’re so fucking fucked.

Jane sneaks up from behind you. She snatches your phone from your hand. You gasp and lunge after her.

“Give that back!” You yell. Jane giggles and tosses the phone to Tonya, who tosses it to Noë, who then tosses it to Tally. You become dizzy with how fast they pass your phone back and forth, eventually finding yourself on the couch as a second wave of alcohol hits your body.

The calm you felt before? Oh honey, you were just in the eye of the storm.

“What are you...doing?” You slur, watching as Jane opens your phone. She stands in front of you, swaying to the music, as maniacal giggles leave her mouth.

“I know who to call to get you over your little Caleb problem,” Jane wiggles her eyebrows. You slowly sit up, tilting your head to the side. “Someone get rid of all the apples because a doctor is about to—”

You gasp and jump at her. You push Jane into the couch and she gasps, holding your phone away from you. The two of you look like drunken idiots, yes, but you simply cannot risk Jane calling Zayne. He’d only hate you more than he probably already does after the stunt you pulled last night by leaving him!

“Don’t!” You whine, reaching for the phone. You watch as your white screen turns into black. You squint, trying to focus on the name, but the words are blurred. With one final push, you slide forward and snatch the phone from her hand. Jane laughs and the other girls help her up.

“When you’re done with your little phone call,” Jane stumbles over her feet, pointing at you with droopy eyes, “come join us on the dance floor! And tell Zayne to bring his stethoscope for…foreplay reasons, I dunno, I’m drunk!” She cheers and throws her arms up in the air. You cover the phone’s microphone and nod, grimacing as the girls trot away. You look at the phone screen and press the big red button.

Nope. You can’t do it. You’re too big of a pussy.

You sit back down onto the couch. A few left over porn shots stare at you from the tray the waitress left behind. Your foot taps against the floor. From lack of better judgment and ignoring all rationality, you took the rest of the shots, immediately feeling them take effect on your body.

The leather couch squeaks as you roll down it. You stare at the ceiling of the club, feeling your body warm up, cheeks pink. You huff and pull out your phone. Sure, you can’t make out the letters of your contact list, but you have something to say to someone!

You just…don’t know what it is quite yet.

Your fingernail picks at the crack in your phone case. You gnaw on your bottom lip, staring at his phone number.

The day he first showed up, he saved you. After that, he’s made it a living nightmare of childhood trauma and jealousy. He even ruined your night with Zayne then made things worse by kissing you. You should be angry at him! You need to be mad at him and his charming smile and the way he says your nam as if it’s last time he’s going to say it.

Yeah! Give him a piece of your mind!

You press his string of numbers, not having saved his number yet out of pure pettiness, and bring the phone to your ear. The waitress swings by with a drink in hand, passing it off to you. You thank you and take a meager sip from the cool glass, the fruity cocktail hitting your tongue. It’s the perfect liquid courage you need to yell at Caleb.

“Are you okay?”

You scoff. Of course his first words to you are those of concern and not out of hatred. You laugh, throwing your head back, body moving with the momentum, moving with you.

“I hate you.” You slur into the microphone.

“You do?” Caleb doesn’t sound too surprised by your admission. “Why?” His question is deceptively simple.

“Because…” you hesitate, trying to think of the first thing to say, “because you faked your death. Or if you were, like, kidnapped or whatever I wouldn’t hold that against you and would completely understand.” You hiccup. Caleb doesn’t respond. You strain your ears to listen to his breathing, leaning into the phone. “I also hate how you got Darryl fired just because I don’t like him. And I hate that you ruined Zayne and I’s night because of your jealousy issues. Look, I get it. I’m a god damn catch,” you laugh, closing your eyes.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Stop! Stop that! Bad Caleb! Don’t care about me, boo,” you groan and pull the phone away from your face, flipping it off.

“Do you need me to come get you?” He says right as you bring the phone back to your ear. You sniffle and shake your head no.

“Don’t come here! Because if you do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to not kiss you again, you bastard.”

“You…want to kiss me?”

“Yes! But I don’t like you! Keep up,” you roll your eyes and groan. Are you even making sense right now?

“Where are you?” He asks.

“I’m not telling you! You’re not gonna find me and act like my hero, no thanks!” You vehemently deny what you assume to be his plan, which is actually very accurate.

“Just tell me. I’ll stop by for a minute for proof of life, how about that?” He asks. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of him grabbing his keys and wallet. He’s heading to the door!

“Caleb! I’m not gonna tell—”

“How’s everyone doing tonight? The Kaleidoscope Team wants to give a shoutout to Jane and her bachelorette party!”

The club’s DJ interrupts you mid sentence. You fall silent, listening as rap air horns blare off after the announcement. The music continues afterward.

“Well…that’s just unfortunate timing,” you mumble into the phone.

“I’ll see you soon.” Caleb ends the call, leaving you staring at a white phone screen.

Well shit. That just made things worse.

You got this, though! You can do it! You know what’s going to help More alcohol! Maybe you can blend into the crowd and hide in plain sight! He’ll never find you in the crowd!

Oh, to be a fool with a drunkard’s courage.

You meet with Jane and the other bridesmaids at the bar. A cup is pushed into your hand as soon as you approach, replacing it with your empty cup. You take a sip but Jane moves it back onto the counter, pulling you away.

“Is he coming?” She asks, drawing you closer and closer to the dance floor. You flash a toothy grin at her, slowly easing your body into beat with the music.

“I’d rather not think about it!” You call back with a shrug. The two of you slip into the crowd, keeping hold of each other with a hand. You move to the center, right underneath a spotlight. A few others are lit with you. The light casts dark shadows on your face and temporarily blinds you.

You catch flashes of your friend but can’t get a good image. At one point, you lose her hand and are pushed to the edge of the light’s rim. You lose your breath, hands touch and grab you, pushing you in and out of vacant spaces, filling in anywhere there’s air to breathe. You don’t even know how much time has passed since you’ve been dancing, being a partner to all.

Your body moves with the beat of the music. You laugh and tilt your chin up, your back connecting with a muscular chest. Their large hands attach to your sides. Their fingers slip along the thin material of your dress. One arm drifts down to your hip, fingers digging into your sides, threatening to slip further down. The other snakes up your chest, his fingers making themselves at home around your neck, fingertips tapping your jawline.

Your gasp meets Caleb’s face, his eyes shadowed from the harsh lighting. Goosebumps litter your skin, shivers running down your spine. A pool of warmth forms between your legs. You’re helpless against his touch, immediately melting into his body.

“Did you want me to come find you?” Caleb murmurs into your ear. He leads you two away from the spotlight, moving underneath the shadows, only being seen when flashes of light strobe by. Darkness overtakes your vision. You attach your hand to the arm that holds your neck. You firmly hold his wrist, pulling against him, but he dips his head down, lips grazing against your neck.

Caleb holds you as you squirm against his chest. You two are frozen in place, the rest of the world around you jumping and dancing to the music, the attention on themselves instead of others around them. He slowly inhales, your intoxicating perfume making place in his memory. The tip of his nose drags across the skin of your neck. His hand moves across your body, his palm pushing into your lower stomach. A groan escapes your lips.

“Caleb,” you breathe out, feeling his lips graze a sensitive part of your neck. You push back into him, his hardened crotch poking into your ass.

Fuck. He’s made this so much more difficult.

“We’re going home,” he mutters into your ear. Suddenly, his hot touch leaves your body. You whine, feeling his fingers curl around your wrist. You pull away his touch, not wanting to leave the protection of darkness and music. You want to stay hidden with him. You don’t want to face reality just yet.

“Dance with me,” you yell over the music. Caleb turns to look at you. The lights stop flickering on and off, the white hues turning to gold as the music comes to a swell.

The world moves in slow motion. Caleb slowly takes a step towards you. A tipsy smile graces your face, your cheeks the perfect shade of pink and your eyes half-droopy form the alcohol. His purple eyes are darkened and dangerous. You’re unable to tell what exact emotion he’s feeling.

It’s…thrilling.

You manage to pull your hand from his. The flashing lights return. You’re cloaked in flashes of blood oranges and purples, your body seemingly moving in slow motion as you lure Caleb back to you.

He watches you closely. Your eyes are still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your hips sway back and forth, drawing him closer and closer, as the hues of the room change between warm and cold tones. Your skirt slips up your legs, revealing more and more bare skin you have to offer. The music vibrates his body, drowning out the screaming voice in his head telling him to get you out of there, to whisk you to his hotel room and take care of you where you can be alone together.

You are just so beautiful. The way your body dances to the music. He loves how the club’s lights illuminate your eyes, your hair taking on the color of the purple and orange lights form above. Caleb loves how carefree you look right now. There is nothing holding you back.

No fears. No restrictions you’ve made for yourself. None of your walls are up.

Caleb wishes to see this version of you when you’re sober. He hopes that one day he’ll make you feel safe enough to just let go.

Caleb grabs your hips, pulling your back against him. Your body continues to move to the music, your hands sliding up his chest, making themselves at home on his shoulders. You bite your lip and squeeze his muscles. They’re rock hard under your touch. It causes you to shudder from desire.

Your hands move up his neck and to the back of his head. You play with the bottom layer of his hair, giving it a gentle tug. He groans and drops his head down to yours. He leans into you, his breath hot against the skin of your neck.

“I thought you hated me,” you can barely hear his words over the music. You shake your head, falling deeper into the blissful feeling that crashes throughout your body. Your body moves against his, helping him fall in beat to the music, before turning around in his arms, pushing yourself back into him.

You’re making it so difficult for him to not lose control, to not drag you away and punish you for all the teasing you’ve put him through. You are so merciless when it comes to him. Are you the same way with Zayne?

Caleb groans. Your intoxication rubs off on him, his head now feeling dazed and hazy underneath the club’s atmosphere.

“I do hate you,” you breathe out, his lips now attaching to your neck. He bites down onto your skin, causing you to gasp. Your ass grinds into his hardened cock, the man burying his fingers into your waist. “I especially hate the way you kissed me.”

“You do?” Caleb peppers open mouthed kisses along your neck. You nod, shivering under his touch. He hooks his right arm around your stomach, keeping you firmly pressed against him. His left hand drops to your thigh, slipping under the skirt. His fingertips dance along your skin, swirling small patterns into your skin.

“I hate the way you make me feel,” you gasp when he bites down on a spot below your jaw, sucking and kissing your skin. He leaves marks in his wake, slowly covering the side of your neck with dark red outlines of his mouth.

“Let’s go home,” he breathes into your ear. You push against is hand, wanting to get away, but he pulls you right back into him. “I’m not leaving you. Never again.”

“I don’t want to go,” you drunkenly whine. Your hands drop to his arm, peeling it away from your body. You slip from his grasp but he’s quick to grab you. You stand at an arm’s length from him. Your mind feels fuzzy and the club’s music becomes muffled. You giggle, looking at your connected hands. You’re quick to interlock your fingers with his. Caleb certainly isn’t complaining about it.

“You’re drunk,” he pulls you back to him. Your chests collide. You look down and bite your lip, pressing into him even more, watching as your boobs threaten to spill out from the low cut fabric. “Let me take you home.”

“Booooooooo,” you roll your eyes, pushing away and giving him two thumbs down. You drop his hands and turn around, quickly evading his hands. Caleb groans, staying close behind you as you weave through the crowd of dancing bodies.

Thank goodness he aced aerial pursuits when he was at the DAA Academy.

He looks away for a moment, trying to see where the rest of your bachelorette group is. You’ve been posting selfies on your story, a lot of them provocative, showcasing your body with a less than innocent face.

You were torturing the poor man while he waited in his hotel room, trying his best to pinpoint your location before he lost control.

A random man grabs your hand. He yanks you to him and you let out a surprised gasp. Your bodies press together, the man’s hands dipping down to your ass. He grinds against you, squeezing your ass. You tilt your head at him, shaking your head.

“Wait…” you groan, hands on his chest, “you’re not—”

Caleb breaks free from the crowd and spots you. He sees red and storms over to you and the man. He uses his Evol to rip the man off of you. He grabs the man’s arm and under the darkness, he twists it backwards with such force that it snaps in half.

“Who gave you permission to touch her?” Caleb barks in the man’s face. The man whimpers and he drops him, turning around. He looks at you to see if you watched him but you were too busy spinning away and stumbling towards the bar.

You giggle to yourself, your body feeling light and airy despite the weighted feeling between your legs. The bar top comes into view and you lean onto it, looking for a bartender. People push into you from both sides but you push back, making space for yourself.

Caleb takes the spot behind you, his arms acting as barriers. He takes all of the hits from the surrounding people, his mouth hovering next to your ear. A raspy chuckle leaves his lips. You gulp, suddenly feeling tiny in front of him, and glance at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes meet his piercing stare. You push your legs together.

“You’re going to cause me a lot of trouble tonight, aren’t you?” He whispers into your ear. He leans his face into the back of your neck, seeking solace in your marked skin and addictive perfume. He sighs, his breath sending goosebumps to form all over your body.

Your core aches. You fight the urge to push back into him, suddenly remembering that you hate him and don’t want to do anything with him…or do you? Your mind and emotions are too much of a mess right now to make sense out of what you want.

Sure, you want Caleb. But is your need for him that from love or has it been born out of pure lust?

You turn forward, blinking rapidly as some of the effects of alcohol leaves your body. Feeling slightly sober, you clear your throat and tap your fingers on the lit bar top.

“I’m not doing anything with you,” you state, voice shaking.

“Oh?” He muses. “Your words aren’t exactly lining up with what your body is telling me, pretty bird.”

Pretty bird. Is that his new nickname for you?

You freeze. Your heart melts at the sound of the nickname, a quiet desire-filled sigh leaving your mouth. You can feel Caleb smile against the skin of your neck, pressing new and gentle kisses on top of the hickeys he left behind.

“You should leave,” you stammer. He shakes his head. To your left, Jane and Tonya wiggle their way to the bar. They gasp for air. Caleb keeps his head where it is, which is on your right side, his face obscured by your hair. Jane and Tonya finally look at you and your shocked expression.

“Is this…” Tonya points to the man behind you.

“Yes!” Jane squeals, shaking Tonya’s arm, “She found her Minotaur! Her Machine!”

Upon hearing the nicknames, and feeling you shake your head, Caleb peels his face from your neck, putting on his most charming and handsome smile on his face. Jane and Tonya blink at him, jaws dropping.

“Where can I find a Machine like that?” Jane purrs. Tonya hits her arm.

“Babe, you’re getting married.”

“Shit. You’re right,” Jane looks at you, waving her finger between you and Caleb. “This is the random man you picked out? Good job.”

“Random?” Caleb pulls away form you, getting a better look at your face. He raises an eyebrow and smirks, his arm muscles flexing. “Don’t tell me you were going to find another guy to fuck, pretty bird.”

“Wait!” Jane slaps her hand onto Caleb’s forearm. She yanks him away from you and you’re able to breathe again. “Are you the Caleb? Cause we all know Zayne! But we don’t know you just yet…you know. Since we’re college friends with her.”

Caleb’s eye twitches at the mention of Zayne. He glances at you and all you can do is look away and order a drink from the bartender.

“What can I do to help sway your opinions of me? How about I buy a round for my pretty bird’s lovely friends?” Caleb’s sweet talk always works. You roll your eyes while your friends swoon.

“Oh! And you have that Colonel salary…good man! What a gentleman! I don’t know why she hates you!” Tonya claps her hands together. Caleb laughs with them and he pulls out his wallet, handing his card to the stressed out bartender.

Your gaze flickers between Caleb and your friends, then they look at an empty space beside you. He’s to busy talking with your friends so you slip away.

“Tell me what I need to do to get back on her good side,” Caleb smiles at Jane, Tonya, and the rest of the crew. They all immediately burst into conversation, speaking over each other. Caleb pays attention to what they have to say, taking in mental notes. The bartender passes him a beer bottle and he takes it, knowing damn well that he’s going to need it if you’re keeping him trapped here.

Caleb shifts his weight to his back foot, his butt hitting nothing but air. He passes. He slowly turns on his heel and his purple eyes immediately scan the immediate area around him.

Where the fuck did you go?

He turns back to the group, Jane catching his eye. She drunkenly snorts, her words slurred when the worst words he can hear leave her lips.

“She’s a runner!”

Well…shit. That’s not a fun aspect of you being drunk, is it? Caleb shakes his head, chuckling from surprise and frustration. That’s okay. He’ll find you. He always does.

He leans away from the bar and looks around. His eyes scan the tops of many other women’s heads. None of them are yours. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, turning back to the bar.

Okay…this is going to be a little more complicated than he thought it was going to be.

Caleb closes his eyes and takes another sip from the beer bottle. He stays where he is, drinking up all the alcohol in one go. Cheers erupt from around him, the bachelorette party howling from his side, as a voice rings out from the speakers.

“Alright ladies! It’s time to show us what you got!”

Caleb opens his eyes and rests his elbow on the edge. His gaze is met with a familiar looking pair of legs. He glances down, tilting his head to the side. The woman is wearing the same platform heels as you. The Colonel’s purple eyes trail up your leg, his lips parting, when he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin under your skirt. His eyes travel up farther, landing on your goofy smile and the way you drag your hands across your body, dancing along to the music.

Caleb clears his throat, his pants feeling tighter than before, and looks around. Men watch you, drool falling from their mouths, as you put on a show for them. He groans and uses his Evol to make them look away from you.

You’re his to look at. You’re his to devour, to take. Not theirs.

Caleb chews the inside of his cheek. He looks at your legs, gaze drifting up. He shamelessly looks under your dress. It’s completely bare underneath except for a pair of lacy black panties. The man groans, his hand caressing your shin and calf.

“We’re going home,” he says. You look down at him and shake your head. You kick his touch away and prance in the other direction, earning more and more cheers from the crowd. Your skirt flicks up and he catches a glimpse of your ass.

Fuck.

Caleb follows you down the bar, shoving past people. They yell at him, telling him to fuck off, but he pays no attention to them.

Enough is enough. You aren’t going to listen to him, that’s fine, but my dear, actions have consequences and you are not immune to what Caleb is about to do to you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Caleb uses his Evol against you. Your feet lift from the ground and you gasp, not enjoying the sudden feeling of weightlessness. With a flick of his hand, you’re back on the ground next to him. He snatches your hand in his and drags you away from the bar top. People boo him but you give them waves, blowing kisses to them.

Caleb’s mind is fried. He keeps you close to him, dragging you behind as he finds solace in a darkened and somewhat empty hallway. There are a few people scattered throughout, immersed in their own conversations. He heads to the back. You stumble over your feet. You try your best to pry his hand off of your wrist but it’s of no use.

Caleb stops walking but pulls you in front of him. He turns you around and before you can even comprehend what’s happening, he has you pressed up against a wall under the darkness. A single light hangs over you. Its light is dim and creates dramatic shadows on Caleb’s face while yours is soft under the light.

“You…drive me crazy,” Caleb’s breathing is ragged. He presses his hand next to to your head, trapping you against the wall. Your body shovers, panties soaking from your sudden desire. Your legs squeeze together to try and hide it from him.

You watch as he lifts his free hand to your face. The tips of his fingers graze your face. He cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb resting against your bottom lip. It’s quiet, the music being drowned out from distance and the ringing in your ears. He pulls your bottom lip down, a slight smirk forming on his face.

“What am I going to do with you?” Caleb’s voice is raspy. A surge of warmth hits your lower abdomen, legs squeezing tighter as your pussy throbs from his simple question.

Caleb leans down, thumb still on your bottom lip, closing the distance. His lips graze against yours.

“C-Caleb…” you breathe his name out. You push your face up to his but it’s his turn to play coy now. He draws back and shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Use your words, pretty bird.”

“Kiss me. Please.”

You’re desperate for him. For his touch. You crave the way his lips mold to yours. You love how he effortlessly takes control, that you can shut your mind off around him and know that you’re going to be safe.

Caleb looks at you through half-lidded eyes, drunk on the way your voice is so breathy, so needy for him. He admires the way your lips parted for him. He swipes his thumb over your glossy lip. He needs to know what your lip gloss tastes like.

Do you taste like apples? Or did you dare to go with another flavor that isn’t associated with him?

Caleb closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance. His tented pants pushes into your aching core. You moan against his lips, the knot in your stomach slowly tightening with anticipation.

Caleb swallows every little sound that escapes your mouth. He rolls his hips up into yours, earning another helpless whimper from you. His Evol helps guide you up the wall and your wrap your legs around his hips, making yourself at home. You tilt your head to the side, fully pressed against the wall. Caleb puts his full weight into you. Your fingers slip into his hair, giving the dark locks a tug when he grinds his crotch into yours. Caleb hisses, deepening your kiss.

His tongue dances with yours, quickly exploring every crevice that you have to offer. Every time your lips part, he’s quick to reconnect them, leaving your mind reeling. You gasp for air, your hair quickly becoming frizzy, as Caleb asserts his dominance over you.

His hand leaves your face, sliding down your side. He cups your breast, squeezing it before he pinches your pebbled nipple. You gasp, head rolling back. Caleb attaches his lips back to your neck, deciding to make up the other side, to show the world that you are his and his only.

Look at you. You’re putty in his hand, his to use and play with. Caleb can do whatever he wants with you, the faint taste of cherry from your lip gloss streaked across his own lips, tainting his tastebuds.

“Keep making those pretty sounds,” Caleb bites down on your skin. Your chest pushes into his, nails gripping his hair tighter. He groans, cock twitching behind his pants and boxers. He reaches your collarbone, leaving one final hickey on your exposed chest. The tip of his nose drags up your neck and cover the curve of your chin, lips reconnecting in a fiery kiss.

Your hands drop to his shoulders. One hand stays not he back of his neck while the other slips under the collar of his shirt, your fingernails scraping against his skin. Caleb rocks his hips into yours. Your nails dig into his skin and you whimper.

Caleb pulls you off the wall, his hands grabbing the bottom of your thighs. Your legs tremble against his touch. His Evol forces a door to open and he carries you inside, pulling his face away from yours, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

The bathroom has a single counter and a single toilet. His powers lock the door. He licks his lips and sets you down on your feet. With one slow turn, you face the bathroom mirror.

It’s dirty, grime and build up prominent on the corners. Lipstick smears and black ink cover the rim of the mirror. Your face sits in the middle. Caleb traps you between his body and the counter. Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, one of his hands resting on top of yours while the other snakes down your side.

You stare into his eyes through the mirror. His smirk sends shocks of electricity between your thighs, your poor panties soaked from the way he handles you. His hand slips under your dress. His fingers make their way to your clothed pussy, dragging across the lace. He chuckles into your ear.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he breathes the words out and into your ear. You close your eyes, head hanging low.

Caleb’s slides in between yours, his foot pushing them open. He slightly bends you over the counter, moving your dress and bunching it up at the bottom of your back. You shudder, feeling his hand squeeze your ass before giving it a slap. You whine and squirm in place but his Evol holds you still.

“Be good for me, pretty bird,” Caleb smirks at the sight of you. You’re so willing, so eager for more. He brushes your hair out of your face. “Look up. I want to see that pretty face of yours.”

You weakly nod and stare at him through the mirror once again. He turns away and slips your panties to the side and slides his fingers over your slick core. You bite back a moan, gaze turning as sharp as his.

You stare at yourself, looking at how your lipstick is completely smeared from your kisses. Your cheeks are a bright shade of pink and your hair is a mess. You slowly blink and gasp when Caleb begins to slowly rub deep, firm circles into your clit.

“Do you want this?” Caleb hums, drunk off of how divine you feel under his touch. You’re unable to say a word, quiet moans falling from your lips as you nod. His gaze darkens. “Say it.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer. Caleb smirks and slips two fingers inside of you.

You gasp at the sensation, already feeling quite full. You gulp and roll your hips to meet his hand, his fingers pumping inside of you at a steady yet quick pace. He curls his fingers, the digits swiping across your sweet spot, making you cry out in pleasure.

The only sounds that fill the bathroom are your moans, the sound of Caleb’s fingers moving in and out of you, and the sound of Caleb leaving open mouthed kisses on your shoulder and neck. Your hips sway back and forth, fighting against his Evol, and every time you moved too much for his liking, Caleb bit into your neck.

“Caleb! Caleb, p-please!” You cry out. Your walls clench around his fingers. He immediately slides his digits out of you, leaving you hanging. You gasp, suddenly feeling so cold, and turn to him. Before you can say anything, though, Caleb lifts you up with ease, setting you on the bathroom counter.

Your back hits the cold mirror. Your legs tremble, watching as he licks your juices from his fingers. He groans, getting drunk off the taste. He leans in and imprisons your lips in a breathless kiss.

You taste yourself on his lips, your tongues massaging into each other. You pull him close, hooking an arm around his neck as you guide him between your legs. You can feel his clothed cock brush up against your soaked pussy.

Caleb pulls his lips away from yours. He trails kisses form your lips down your neck to your collarbone, dropping below your breasts. He gives them a gentle squeeze, rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers. The Colonel keeps his eyes on you, kissing your clothed stomach, moving the skirt of your dress out of the way.

He takes a step back, admiring your wet panties, all soaked and ready for him. He hooks his finger under your panties, tugging them down your leg. He slips them off and pushes them into his back pocket. You barely pay attention to it, eyes half open, mind in a complete haze.

Caleb flicks his hand and his powers slowly push your legs open. You’re fully exposed to him. You quiver from the exposure but don’t move, watching as he steps back to you.

He rests his hands on your knees, sliding them up and down your thighs with meticulous movements. He’s dreamt about this moment for many nights. He wants to savor every second with you.

Caleb’s eyes flicker to yours. You watch him, captivated by his actions, as he gets down on his knees in front of you. He places your legs on his shoulders, his Evol disappearing against your skin. He hums to himself and hooks an arm around your leg, keeping you in place.

Caleb slowly rubs circles into your aching clit with his thumb. Your head rolls back, fingers attaching to his hair. You tug on it, quietly urging him to move faster. He chuckles at your shaking body. He leans in. Caleb drags his tongue from the bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit.

Your breathy moan fills the bathroom. The tip of your heel digs into his back, your grip on his hair tightening. He kisses your clit, lapping at it a few times, before connecting his mouth around the sensitive bud, sucking on it. He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them once he fully pushes them inside.

Your back arches and a loud moan leaves your mouth. Caleb pumps his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace, curling them at just the right moment to make you gasp. He groans as you tug at his hair, eyes closed as he’s ruthless to your now swollen clit.

Caleb removes his fingers from you, unable to control himself, as he slides his tongue along your slit.

Your thighs immediately close around his head. He groans from the hit, his tongue dipping inside you. His Evol pushes your legs right back open, fingers digging into the plump flesh of your inner thigh.

“F-Fuck!” You cry out. Without even realizing it, your hands tug and pull on his hair, moving his face exactly where he needs to go to please you.

His tongue swirls around, dipping inside you as you roll your hips into his mouth. The tip of Caleb’s nose brushes against your clit, causing you to cry out his name in the empty bathroom.

He groans against your soaked pussy, lapping up your wetness, the sounds from his tongue oh so quiet compared to your cries and gasps. He tightens his grip around your thighs, holding you in place as you begin to squirm under his touch.

Caleb buries himself between your thighs. He can barley breathe while his tongue moves at a hellish place, hitting you in all of the right spots, making sure to lick your clit to push you close to the edge before bringing you back to a low. He’s so focused on your pussy that his Evol disappears, letting go of your legs, which you tighten around his head. He doesn’t care, though.

The knot in your stomach tightens. You dig your heels into his back, not holding back on him, as your hips buck up to meet his eager licks. You look down at him, breathless, and meet his drunken stare.

You throw your head and scream out his name, jumping into the feeling of pure bliss and ecstasy. You cum all over his face, your juices coating his mouth and its surrounding areas. Your legs tighten before falling loose, trembling.

Caleb slows his face, precum leaking from his tip, cock aching under his tight pants. He lets you come down on your own time. Your chest, once pushed up into the air, falls. Your back returns against the mirror and you heavily breathe in and out, catching your breath.

Caleb presses sweet and gentle kisses to your clit and your entrance before he moves to your weak thighs. His kisses are sloppy, leaving trails of your enthralling finish on your skin. He rises to his feet, immediately pressing his clothed cock to your exposed pussy.

Your brain is fried. You can barely string together a simple sentence as you try to comprehend what in the fuck just happened to you. You tilts your chin up and Caleb captures your lips in a kiss.

You can taste what he did to you on his lips, melting into his kiss. He grunts inside of your mouth, the vibrations making you shudder. You bite down on his bottom lip, drunk off of your orgasm, and watch as he tears himself away.

Caleb presses his back against the door. The two of you breath deep and haggard breaths. He smirks at you, which you return with a tired chuckle.

Your legs feel heavy, hands unable to hold onto anything. Can you even go another round?

Caleb takes a single step towards you, his hands reaching for his belt, when he’s stopped by your heel being pressed into his twitching member. He groans but keeps the distance, looking at you.

You shake your head, a tipsy giggle escaping your lips. You bite down on your bottom lip and push your heel into his crotch, watching as a mixture of pain and pleasure flash across his face.

“Not yet…” you whisper. You shake your head, trying to get back to rationality and your senses. “I need to go home. Can you take me home?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

Such a tease.

That’s okay…he’ll just make you feel even better next time.

Caleb’s body relaxes. He scoffs, looking away for a split second before nodding. He picks you up with ease, making sure to cover the lower half of your body with your dress. Caleb carries you out of the bathroom.

You rest your head on his shoulder, looking at him with a lazy smile. He carries you through the club, a proud smirk stamped on his face. As soon as you step outside, you close your eyes, allowing sleep to overtake your body when you’re placed in the backseat of a car.

You did not feel good the following morning. You woke up late, mouth dry, dehydration and nausea hindering you from rushing out the door and to the train station.

Did you have time to make breakfast? No.

Did you have time to make yourself look presentable for the outside world? Also no.

All you managed to grab was your suitcase, which was somehow packed, and your purse filled with your wallet, keys, and your charged phone. You raced out of your house and bribed one of your teenage neighbors, whom you haven’t seen in five years, to drive you to the train station. You threw in an extra fifty dollars if they got there in under ten minutes, which they did.

You wear baggy sweatpants that you swipes from your mom’s room, a bedazzled “SLAY” written across your ass. You matched it with an old college hoodie you haven’t worn in forever with a big pair of black sunglasses to keep the light out from your face.

Needless to say: you look like a train wreck.

As soon as you plopped into your assigned window seat on the train back to Skyhaven, you relaxed. You grab the water bottle from your bag and chug it in one go, moisturizing the inside of your dry mouth and throat. You breathe out a sigh of relief, melting into the train’s cushioned chair.

You close your eyes and lean against the window, groaning, wishing for your hunger to go away and for sleep to take you once again.

The worst part about your inevitable, and much needed, hangover?

You remember every single god damn thing you did last night, especially the part where you let Caleb eat you out in the dingy bathroom.

You wince from the memory, covering your ears as you hear your intermingled moans and the sounds of your sloppy kisses.

Go away! Shoo! Leave me alone!

You sense a person sit in the chair beside you. You hold back a groan and scoot away from them, getting close to the window so they can have more space. They chuckle and your heart begins to race. Slowly opening up your eyes, you see a bundle of aluminum foil.

It smells absolutely divine. Just fucking delectable. You knew what was inside. It’s a greasy breakfast sandwich, perfect for a hangover. You take it in your hands, unraveling the sandwich and immediately bite into the everything bagel, the grease from the cheese and meat blending together to create the best savory experience and extraordinary first bite of the day.

It’s so good that you moan a little, head rolling back and hitting the seat’s headrest.

“Is it that good?” They ask. You can barely process what their voice sounds like, going in for a second bite, nodding. They laugh.

The person besides you swipes the sunglasses from your face. You whine and open your eyes, looking at them.

Caleb sits besides you, wiping the smudges away from your lenses with his shirt. You look down and catch a glimpse of his abs, his happy trail prominent against his tanned skin. You move your eyes back up to his, feeling as he places the sunglasses back on your face. He leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“And here I am thinking that I was the only person who could make you feel that good.”

This is going to be one long ass train ride.

#caleb x reader #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb x you #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads caleb #rcvcgers writings #lads caleb angst #caleb lads angst #lads angst #caleb smut #caleb lads smut #rotten apples ❦︎

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

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Title: You Should’ve Told Me

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance

POV: First Person (Reader)

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Freshman year of college, you and Paige Bueckers became fast friends after bonding over having the same major and the same schedule. You told each other everything—well except the fact that you’re a stripper in your junior year.

Fic is based of @yailtsv ‘s mood board: Paige w/stripper!gf

I low-key want yail to do a pt.2 to fic….

🏷️: @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr

Freshman year, I was awkward as hell—tote bag too full, hair always in a rushed bun, and clumsy enough to spill coffee on someone within the first week of classes. That someone just happened to be Paige Bueckers.

“I am so sorry!” I remember fumbling with napkins, heart sinking as the brown stain spread across her hoodie.

She just laughed, blue eyes full of amusement. “It’s fine. I didn’t even like this hoodie anyway.” She glanced down at my binder full of psych notes. “You’re in Psych 103 too?”

And just like that, we became inseparable.

We sat next to each other in every class, studied together, FaceTimed when one of us missed something. Paige introduced me to her teammates, took me to games, and somewhere along the way, we started telling each other everything. Or… almost everything.

I never told her what happened the summer before junior year.

When my parents found out I liked girls, they didn’t scream. They just cut me off. No more tuition. No more health insurance. No more help. Just silence.

So I found a way.

It started small—cocktail waitress. Then VIP hostess. Eventually, I was offered a stage audition at Club Venus. I said yes.

I told myself I’d quit once I had enough. But then rent came due. Then books. Then food. And now, here I was in senior year, dancing on weekends, midterms on Mondays. Still getting straight A’s, still smiling at Paige in class… still lying.

Tonight, I was working a shift but planned to leave early. I had cupcakes waiting at home and a card for Paige’s birthday. I couldn’t wait to surprise her.

But life? Life had other plans.

⸻

“VIP bachelorette party at table three!” my manager called, shoving a tray into my hands.

I groaned. My set was next. “Tell them I’ll be there after stage.”

He rolled his eyes. “Make it quick, baby. They brought the birthday girl.”

As the lights dimmed and the bass rolled in, I stepped out onto the stage, heels clicking, hair bouncing. I plastered on my best smile, the one that made rent and textbooks possible.

But then I saw her.

Front and center, blue eyes wide with disbelief, was Paige.

Her teammates flanked her—Azzi, Nika, Ice—all grinning, waving dollars.

Paige? She looked like the earth had dropped out from beneath her.

She was frozen, staring up at me as if I’d just confessed to murder.

My stomach dropped.

No. No, no, no.

I tried to look anywhere but her as I danced, heart racing, cheeks burning. I wanted to bolt off stage and hide, but I couldn’t. Not mid-set.

When I stepped down and made a beeline for the dressing room, Paige was already moving.

“Hey! Wait—wait up!”

“I’m working,” I hissed, not looking at her.

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, grabbing my forearm gently.

That’s when the other girls noticed.

“You have to pay to touch!” Amber snapped, stepping between us.

“Back off,” another added. “No touching without permission.”

I opened my mouth to say, “It’s okay,” but then Paige reached into her pocket, pulled out every bill she had—$550—and slipped it into my bra strap with steady hands.

Her eyes locked on mine. “Let’s go to a room, shall we?”

I hated how professional I had to stay as I nodded. Hated how much shame churned in my gut. Hated how I couldn’t even celebrate her birthday right.

Once we got into the private room, the door closed behind us, and she didn’t even sit down.

She paced.

“You’re a stripper? Seriously?”

“Paige—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because!” My voice cracked. “Because I didn’t want you to look at me like that. Like I’m something dirty.”

She stopped pacing.

“I don’t—God, that’s not it, I swear.”

“Then what is it?”

“You could’ve told me,” she whispered, softer now. “We tell each other everything.”

“I couldn’t,” I said. And then it just poured out. “I didn’t have a choice, okay? My parents cut me off after I came out. I had no money, no job, no backup plan. I tried everything else. This pays enough. It pays… enough to stay in school.”

Her face crumpled.

“You’re doing this… just to pay tuition?”

I nodded, blinking fast. “It’s not what I want to do. I just—don’t have any other options.”

I didn’t know it then, but that moment shattered something in her.

“I’ll pay it,” she said suddenly.

My eyes widened. “What?”

“My NIL deals cover everything. I barely touch my stipend. Let me help—please.”

“No, Paige—”

“I mean it. You’re killing yourself for a degree. Let me take care of it.”

“I can’t take that from you.”

She looked hurt. “Why not? You’re my best friend.”

That stung more than it should’ve.

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

⸻

I thought that was the end of it.

But then she started showing up.

Every night I worked, Paige was there, always tucked into a corner booth, hood up, arms crossed like a bouncer. She tipped big. Watched bigger. Anyone who even looked like they were gonna get handsy? She was up like a shot, staring them down until they backed off.

My coworkers started calling her “your bodyguard.”

Eventually, her presence became comforting.

When I danced, I knew she was watching—but not in a creepy way. She watched like she was protecting me from the whole world.

A few weeks later, after another quiet shift, she waited outside the dressing room.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” she said, handing me a grilled cheese and my favorite boba. “But I miss our study dates.”

I smiled. “You could’ve said that instead of bribing me with dairy and tapioca.”

We talked for hours that night. About school. About the future. About everything but this place.

Eventually, one night, she just blurted it out.

“I like you.”

I blinked. “You what?”

She stepped closer. “I like you. Like, more than a friend. More than anything.”

“…Even though I work here?”

“Especially because you do. You do what you need to survive. That’s… kind of badass.”

I melted.

⸻

Dating Paige was like finally breathing again.

She never judged me. Never looked down on me. But she never stopped worrying either.

She’d sit at the bar, watching every lap dance like a hawk. If a guy leaned in too close, she shot daggers. If someone tried to touch me, security would swoop in—probably tipped off by a glare from Paige.

And yes, she paid for lap dances. Smirking every time.

“You gonna scold me again, babe?” she’d tease, slipping twenties into my garter. “Or you gonna dance for your biggest fan?”

I hated taking her money. She knew it. But she insisted.

“Think of it as a girlfriend tax.”

Still, I drew a line—no more private room sessions once we were official. I couldn’t handle the guilt. She supported the decision immediately.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” she said one night, brushing hair from my face. “Just keep doing what’s best for you.”

The trouble was… I wasn’t making enough anymore. Less tips. Fewer dances. I picked up more shifts, lost more sleep, skipped more meals.

Until one night, I collapsed in her arms.

We were in my apartment. I’d just gotten off work. She brought me tea. I sat down, and before I could even sip it, I started crying.

“I’m so tired, Paige,” I whispered. “I’m tired of selling pieces of myself to strangers while trying to study for exams. I’m tired of dancing when I can’t even feel my legs. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m falling apart.”

She pulled me in, arms tight around my waist. “Baby, you’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

“I can’t take your money. I just… I can’t.”

She kissed my temple. “Okay.”

That was all she said.

⸻

A few weeks later, I got a letter from Financial Aid.

Your balance has been paid in full.

I called. They said an anonymous donor paid off my remaining tuition.

I knew.

She didn’t say anything right away. She waited until I was calm. Until I was home. Until we were curled up on the couch and I was smiling again.

“I love you,” she said. “And I’ll always do what’s best for you. Even if you won’t let me say it out loud.”

I cried again, but this time, I didn’t feel ashamed.

Paige was more than my girlfriend. She was my anchor. My protector. My everything.

And if loving her meant letting her be my sugar mama on my off days?

So be it.

“Okay,” I whispered, curling into her side. “Buy me that Lego set.”

She grinned. “You got it, baby.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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junkissed · 1 year ago

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ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain.

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand.

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore.

"well…” jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.”

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin.

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body.

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily.

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair.

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh.

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob.

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again.

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

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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aethercoreheart · 6 days ago

Text

club onichynus

nightclub owner!sylus x bartender!reader tw: violence, assault

“And that is how you make Wanderer’s Toe Jam.”

You narrow your eyes at Luke as he slides the martini glass towards you. Kieran is already stifling his giggles behind his hand as you receive the glass and raise it to your lips. You take a tentative sip of the incredibly dirty martini and gag immediately. The taste of the sardine brine lingers on your tongue, salty and pungent. Kieran hands you a lemon wedge, and you shove it into your mouth, the acidity from it enveloping your taste buds.

“Man, you guys are fucked up,” you cough, sliding the glass back to Luke across the bar. “Sardines? Who hurt you?”

He shrugs as he tosses the rest of the cocktail into the sink. “Believe it or not, that’s actually something a customer once ordered. Would have hated to be whoever he was making out with that night.”

You wince as you wipe down the bar, not wanting to leave any trace of the monstrosity behind. It’s a quiet night at Club Onichynus, and the twins are testing out new cocktail recipes on their newest guinea pig – you. You’ve been working here for about two weeks already, and they had warmed up to you quickly, making you their latest victim for the weird and wonderful concoctions.

The club is full of life on the weekends, a live DJ blasting out tunes with swarms of bodies on the dance floor and customers crowding the bar. During the week, its patrons are a little different. The staff call them the VIPs – men dressed in suits, accompanied by bodyguards, heading across the dance floor to one of the private rooms on the club’s second floor. The twins bring them their drinks while you man the bar, wondering what sort of business they’re conducting behind those closed doors. You had heard whispers that the club is some sort of neutral ground where all sorts of deals are made. You decide that it’s none of your business – the pay is good, and you like the work environment so far.

You’re about to wring out the towel you’re using when you hear the twins greet someone from across the room, their voices rising up above the thumping music. “Boss Man! Mephisto!”

You glance up from the bar, and your breath instantly catches in your throat. Wearing a dark suit, accompanied by his raven-haired assistant, the owner of Club Onichynus strides across the dance floor towards the bar. It’s the first time you’ve actually seen him in person. He’s taller than you expected, at least six feet, his broad shoulders evident even under his jacket. His silver hair is swept up away from his forehead, revealing his ruby-red eyes.

You straighten up instinctively as they approach the bar. Mephisto, the assistant, the one who had hired you, gives you a warm smile as he greets you by name.

“How have the first two weeks been?” he asks as he shakes your hand. “I hope these two aren’t giving you too much trouble.”

You shake your head and return his smile. You can feel the twins’ stares bore into you as you start your answer. “Not at all. They’ve been absolute angels, sir.”

Mephisto laughs, tossing his head back. “Angels? Luke and Kieran? Maybe when hell freezes over.” He wipes at his eye with his finger as his chuckles die down. “And please, Mephisto is fine.”

He turns to the person the twins had greeted as ‘Boss Man’ and motions to you. “Ah, yes, Sylus, this is our new hire. Started a couple of weeks ago.”

Sylus reaches out with his hand and you take it, shaking it with as firm of a handshake as you can possibly muster. “Mr. Qin,” you greet him, trying to keep your voice steady. You bow your head deeply. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

He pulls your hand gently, leaning in towards you. The corners of his lips tug up into a smile as he locks eyes with you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Sylus. We’re not that formal around here.”

You nod in reply, trying to mirror his smile. “Sure. Thank you, Sylus.”

With that, he releases your hand and turns his attention to the twins. “I hope you two are behaving.”

The twins look at each other sideways before Kieran winks at Sylus. “Always.”

“Did you bring back any souvenirs for us from your business trip?” Luke pipes up, leaning over the bar. Kieran nudges him. “Oh, and I hope you had a good trip,” Luke adds.

Sylus laughs as he slaps the bar twice with his open palm. He turns away, heading towards the elevators for the second floor. Mephisto follows along behind him. “You’ll get them if you manage to keep this one on board for more than a month,” Sylus calls, waving his hand at them. He turns his head slightly, making eye contact with you again, smirking. “Good luck,” he mouths, before turning away again.

—

Your first month at the club has flown by in a breeze. The weekdays are easy work – it’s quiet, and the hardest thing you have to do is put up with the twins. The weekends are a different story, though. All hands are on deck at the bar, three of you making drinks and servers running drinks to the VIP rooms non-stop. Dealing with customers at the bar is like herding cats. The twins are surprisingly good at handling the crowd demanding their drinks, and you watch them sometimes, implementing some of their tricks yourself. They may be troublemakers, but they sure do know how to do their jobs. The end of your shifts usually have you wanting a drink yourself, but you’re afraid of whatever Luke or Kieran might whip up for you, so you often finish your shift with a glass of water and head home.

At the start of every shift, Sylus has made a point to stop by the bar to greet the three of you. He checks in, asks if there is enough stock, and makes small chit chat with the twins. You’re usually posted at one end of the bar, cleaning glasses, not close enough to join in on the conversation, but close enough to listen to it. Before he leaves for his office he will usually stop by your end of the bar, giving you a soft smile.

“You good?” he would ask, to which you would reply with a nod and a single word. “Good.”

—

It’s a Saturday night and the club is at full capacity. You’re thankful for the numerous security staff posted at several points in the club – you can at least focus on making drinks knowing that they’d take care of the more rowdy customers. So far, the night has gone smoothly. You’re making your second round of cosmopolitans for the night, when you spot a customer from the corner of your vision. You had taken notice of him about an hour ago, when he had approached a woman with a drink in his hand. He had tried to hand the drink to her, and she had politely declined at first, but then he resorted to trying to get her to take the drink with increasingly aggressive attempts. Luckily, she had been pulled away by her group of friends, leaving him with the drink. He had attempted this with another woman, which had yielded the same results. You had kept a close eye on him since then, wondering if you should alert security about him.

Luke and Kieran haven’t seemed to notice him, and they continue making drinks while trying to chat to you.

“So… what do you think of Boss Man?” Kieran asks.

You shrug, and continue making your drinks while glancing up now and again, your eyes scanning that crowd for that one customer. “Sylus? He seems nice, I guess.”

Luke comes to the other side of you, working a cocktail shaker. “You know, there’s something fishy going on with him lately. He’s not here that often, usually. He used to come here four times a week at most, but he’s here every night now, checking in at the bar. You know, every since you started–”

Luke’s spiel is cut off by Kieran coming up behind him and nudging him, but you don’t take notice. Your attention is on that one customer again, who’s trying to approach another woman. You watch as he gets her attention and offers her the drink – it’s the same drink he started off with and you’re sure it doesn’t taste as it should by now. The woman declines, more forcefully than the two before her had. This enrages the man, probably the last straw on the camel’s back. He grabs at her wrist and shoves the drink in her face, spilling half of the glass onto her dress. She struggles against him, and looks into the crowd for help. You lock eyes with her, and in an instant, you’re running out from behind the bar, pushing past other customers.

“Hey! Let her go!”

The man hears you and releases the woman, hugging the glass close to his chest, the rest of the drink sloshing around in it. You take her elbow and guide her to stand behind you gently as you position yourself in between them. The man glares at you, his face turning red with fury.

You see the twins over at the bar, pointing security staff in your direction, and you sigh in relief, thankful that you’ll have backup soon.

You’re still thinking up of ways to de-escalate the situation when the man suddenly lunges forward, drink in hand.

“Bitch!” he spits, and raises his glass, aiming for the woman.

You barely have time to act – you push the woman back and away, and stand in the man’s line of aim. The glass flies out of his hand and you try to raise your hand to block it, but it hits you under the eye, just on the cheekbone. The drink is all over your hair, face, and uniform, and you’re about to retaliate and tackle the man to the ground when someone beats you to it.

In what seems like a split second, Sylus has come in between you and the man. You have no idea where he has appeared from. He holds the man’s outstretched arm by the wrist, towering over him. You’re not sure what happens next, but you hear the sound of a snapping bone, followed by a blood curdling scream. The other patrons of the club have now all turned their attention towards the scene. Security has finally made it to you, and they hoist the man up by under his arms.

Sylus leans in his face close to the man, who is now whimpering and cowering in pain. Sylus tilts his head to the side before speaking. “You think about coming in here again, I’ll do more than just break your arm.” He says it so casually, his tone chilling. “And if you ever look in the direction of any of my staff again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

With that, security takes the man away, leaving the rest of the club stunned. Luke and Kieran have made their way from the bar with tea towels in hand, attempting to clean you up. Your adrenaline has dropped suddenly, leaving you weak in the knees, and feeling the pain in your cheekbone. The drink that had been thrown at you had dribbled down the side of your face and into the corner of your mouth. It doesn’t taste like regular rum and coke.

You watch as Sylus bends down to pick the glass up, which surprisingly, hasn’t shattered. He inspects it and you see his eyes darken and his jaw clench before he hands it to Mephisto, who is standing behind him.

“Oh shit, you’re bleeding,” Kieran breathes, dabbing a towel at your face.

You try to respond, but instead, your knees buckle, and you fall to the ground. Luckily, the twins react quickly and manage to catch you before you actually make it to the ground. Your vision is swimming, the voices around you becoming distorted.

“My office,” Sylus barks at the twins, who gently heave you up. “Now.”

—

You’ve never been upstairs at Club Onichynus, much less Sylus’s office. The next moments are a blur, and all you can focus on is trying to stay laying on the chaise lounge, as the world around you spins. One of the twins stays with you, you’re not sure which, trying to talk to you to get you to stay conscious. You’re barely able to respond with anything other than monosyllabic grunts. You’re not sure how much time passes, but you hear Mephisto and Sylus enter the room, talk briefly, before Mephisto leaves with... was it Kieran? Maybe it was Luke. You don’t care at that point – all you want to do is give in and pass out.

Sylus takes the twin’s place next to you on the lounge. You try to rise from where you’re laying, embarrassed to have your boss seeing you like this.

“Hey, hey, don’t get up” Sylus chastises you, his tone gentle. His hand is on your back, guiding you to lie back down.

“Oh, god,” you groan, still attempting to sit up anyway. “I feel like I’m going to throw up and pass out at the same time.”

You force your eyes open and see a bar cart next to the lounge. There’s a carafe filled with water with a glass next to it, a bottle of painkillers and a first aid kit. You reach for the water, but Sylus beats you to it. He pours a glass for you, and hands it to you, watching as you clumsily drink from it, water spilling out the sides of your mouth.

“Damn,” you gurgle, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “I can usually take a hit better than that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You didn’t just get hit in the face,” Sylus sighs. “That scum put… something in the drink. Enough to probably knock three grown men out.”

“Oh, fuck,” you groan again, instantly remembering how it tasted. “That much, huh? I only got a little bit of it too.”

Sylus turns away from you, but you can almost feel the rage emanating from him. You see his shoulders tense up and his jaw clench again. You shudder – you’d hate to be the target of all that anger.

“I’ll find him,” he vows, his voice barely audible. You feel a chill run up your spine. “I shouldn’t have let him leave.”

A wave of nausea and exhaustion washes over you again, and you put your head in your hands. You try to fight against it as Sylus’s hand finds its way to your back again.

“Lie down,” he instructs, guiding you back to a lying position. “Don’t move. I’ve called for a doctor already.”

You want to thank him, but you can’t seem to get the words out. All you can do is grunt in reply as your eyes start to close.

“Here, let’s start cleaning up that nasty cut.”

You hear him start to fiddle around with the first aid kit, and you feel the sting of the antiseptic as it meets the wound on your cheek. You hiss and flinch back, your eyes snapping open.

Sylus looks at you, an amused glint in his eyes, holding a cotton pad hovering just above your face. You realize just how close he is to you, and how he smells faintly of sandalwood. The pace of your heartbeat starts to quicken, and you feel your cheeks start to heat up

“Come on, darling,” he says, a teasing tone to his voice. “It’s just a little antiseptic. You can take it. I’ll be more gentle.”

You nod, and allow him to dab at your cheek again. As promised, his hand is light and gentle, swiping away at the blood with feathery touches. You’re both silent as he works on your wound, his breath washing over your face, warm and comforting.

The silence is interrupted by his phone buzzing, and he pulls it out from his back pocket with one hand, the other still holding the cotton pad. His eyes scan over the screen quickly before he returns his phone to his pocket, and he places the bloody cotton pad on the bar cart.

“Doctor’s here,” he tells you, rising from the side of the lounge. “They want to examine you. I’ll leave the both of you for now.”

“Wait.” As if acting on its own, your hand reaches out and grabs the end of his jacket sleeve. Sylus looks down at you with an inquiring gaze, but doesn’t pull his arm away.

“Wait,” you repeat, swallowing deliberately. Your head feels light again and Sylus’s suddence absence at your side is a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. “Sylus… please, don’t leave me.”

He pauses for a moment before kneeling down next to you again. His hand, which had earlier broken another man’s arm in a single move, is now brushing your hair gently away from your face. His thumb sweeps up across your temple as he locks eyes with you.

“I won’t,” he whispers, his gaze softening. The world seems to stop spinning as you get lost in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here.”

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kira-fluff · 8 months ago

Text

no feelings, just lust - wakasa imaushi x fem!reader

what happens when FWB -> feelings? tw: language, casual sex (obviously), trust issues/mental health issues a/n: hello! you all know the drill, i've been busy with all uni. i've been wanting to write again and i finally had some free time tonight. am i once again venting my own psychological issues in the form of writing? yes. but honestly lets be so fr for a second i feel like some of my other girlies relate to this shit. idk, lmk. i hope i'm not the only one. (i'm scared of men)

wakasa didn't "do" relationships. too much work. too much shit he's got on his plate already. and hey, a girl deserves more in a serious relationship then a guy who doesn't give a shit, right? there are plenty of fuckers who treat their girls like trash just because they want the attention but not the commitment. in all honesty, wakasa didn't do friendships either. it's easier in his line of work to keep everyone at a distance. helps it hurt less when they leave - when they die, or shit, they betray you. but through shinichiro, he met you.

turns out, you weren't really all that into relationships either. it was funny that both of your lack of commitment stemmed from trust issues, but that wasn't something you both exactly said out loud. for you, it was easier not to get hurt or rejected if you never gave someone the chance to get close. so, you would play nice, act the part of a friendship, smile, placate, but at the end of the day, no one was really your friend. they were part of an act you played in your head. you assumed various roles, went through your script, amused your audience. and for what? so people can like you? at this point, you weren't even sure. this, of course, didn't even begin to touch on your commitment issues caused by your struggles in your own identity. you don't know what the fuck you want in a relationship, so whenever shit got serious, you cut it off. you decided relationships weren't your thing because guys didn't deserve to have their feelings played with by someone who approaches them half-heartedly.

when you met wakasa, it was perfect. neither of you wanted anything beyond just casual sex. no commitment. you don't care who else the other is fucking, so long as your clean. you can quit whenever you want. no strings attached and with it, no feelings. there were no expectations. you were free to do what you want, and if it wasn't what you wanted anymore, you could call it off without hurting anyone. you just happen to be satisfying each other's needs. it's both selfish, but in a way, also a symbiotic give-and-take. if it is mutually beneficial, is it really all that selfish? maybe you shouldn't be giving as much thought to the semantics, but your proclivity for overthinking is part of the reason your real relationships are a clusterfuck.

shinichiro introduced you at the club, where you were languidly sipping on a cocktail. "this is y/n, she's chill. comes out to hang with us sometimes." "yeah, when i got shit else to do," you laughed. your gaze met his purple eyes as you blinked slowly. the smell of weed permeated throughout the club, adding a slight fog to the already densely populated club. "wakasa." he said, and that was it. no "nice to meet you" or any of that other shit. yeah, he wasn't up for the play acting either. good. as he ordered a drink, you took another sip, searching the club for anything amusing to pass the time. blaring music, sweaty bodies, lustful and uninvited hands...yeah, it wasn't really your scene. but you were bored, and honestly a little lonely. with that combination, you hit up shinichiro asking if he and his gang were doing anything this weekend. they always are. how do they not get exhausted just being around all these people? it's a task already just spouting off conversation with these braindead fuckers.

wakasa took a seat next to you, surveying the club just as you were. after taking another sip of his scotch, he said, "this shit gets old pretty fast." you smirked. "can't say i disagree." wakasa licked his lips, taking a long look at your figure. "you doin' anything tonight? 'sides sitting here bored as fuck." you turned your eyes to him once more. "what did you have in mind?"

wakasa slammed you against the door to your apartment, kissing you urgently as you attempted slipped off your shoes while just a little bit wasted. you weren't wasted enough to see this guy was fucking hot. and as he rubbed up against you, you realized he had plenty to offer. "so fuckin' hot," he sighed as he kissed you, "i wanna be inside you." you groaned as he licked your lip, then plunged his tongue into your mouth. there, you two melded into a rhythm of twisting tongues, sighing, moaning, drawing back for a breath, and then repeating it all over again. of course, this only lasted so long before wakasa grabbed your ass, lifting you up and carrying you to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed. as he unbuckled his pants, you make quick work of removing your tight-fitting dress. at last, you basked in each other's well-endowed features. as you looked at him, his purple eyes were nearly pitch black with desire. he wants you. and you can have him. like letting go of a rope, wakasa met your body and slid his cock in between your wet folds. his pace was a steady rhythm as he gazed at you, analyzing what make you feel good. "mmm... harder..." you sighed, to which he quickly responded with more aggressive thrusts, causing the bed to whine as he pounded into you. "yes, oh my god, yes," you sighed. he sucked air through his teeth. "fuck, you're so tight. feels so fuckin' good." as his hips rocked into yours, you couldn't take your eyes off him. your fingers found the nape of his neck, where you pulled at the purple and blond strands, eliciting a groan from him. suddenly he stopped. "fuck, not gonna cum yet. wanna make you feel even better." he pushed your body futher up the bed, then spread your thighs until they touched either side of you. slowly, he leaned his head down toward your pussy, his eyes on you. then, he licked a stripe up, teasingly. you couldn't hold back your whimper. a corner of his mouth turned up as he sucked on your clit, then once again licked up your slick, swirling his tongue around your entrance. you felt your pussy getting wetter as he continued to taste you. "tastes so good. lemme see you cum, baby girl." he moves his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out of your pussy at such a rapid pace you began moaning. along with it, he removed his tongue, licking what was left on his mouth, and moved his other fingers to rub against your clit, making slow circles. your breathing became shallow, just gasps of air. your mind went completely blank, only able to focus on the sensations he brought with only his hands. and fuck, those hads were like magic. slowly, slowly, the pleasure built up inside of you until you let out a moan, shaking as you orgasmed. as you sighed, calming your rapid breathing, he eyed you up and down. "you don't think we're done, do you? we're just gettin' started." he said, curling his lips in amusement. you huffed out a laugh, "of course, we wouldn't want you leaving without your dick soaked." his mouth twisted downward, as if he was fighting against a smile. "alright then, make me cum."

you awoke to light stubbornly illuminating your room through the blinds. thank god you didn't have a hangover. you sighed in contentment. you felt so full. it had been awhile since you'd had sex that good. well, fuck, it was great. out of this world. mind-blowing. you lost count of how many hours you were at it, how many times you made each other cum. all you could remember was the sensation of wakasa inside of you and your mouth around his cock. and goddamn, the wonders he worked with that tongue. fuck, did you get his number? you glanced over to the other side of your bed. predictably, it was empty. well, at least he wasn't expecting some kind of morning pillow talk. better to just fuck and be done with it then sit there talking about your feelings. lamenting your oversight, you lazily walked toward your kitchen, thankful for your coffee maker preprogrammed to make you the good shit without you fucking around with the machine when your mind wasn't yet awake. after taking a few sips of your highly-caffienated, highly-sugar-filled coffee, you noticed a slip of paper on the counter. thanks for the fun night. if your up for it some time again, text me. xxx-xxx-xxxx - wakasa you smiled. at least one of you had your head on straight this morning.

pulling out your phone, you typed out "hey wakasa. it's y/n. definitely down for another night sometime." not two minutes after you sent your message, you heard your phone ding. "glad to hear. free sunday night. your place or mine?" "your place. wanna see if your place is as glorious as mine, with the shitty white paint over the holes in the wall from my landlord. ya know, the luxurious shit you get when you can just barely pay the bills." you replied. "sounds good. here's my address: xxxx xxxx xxxxxxx." you pouted. not a laugh? well, he's not really the "lol" type, you supposed. but why did you even care? maybe just because he doesn't have a good sense of humor - what a piece of moldy cheese. but the sex was good, so even if his personality is moldy cheese (just because he didn't think you were funny) you can put up with him. and did his personality even matter? you guys were just fucking. it's just sex. nothing more.

wakasa breathed out a laugh, looking at your text. the corner of his mouth quirked up despite himself, resulting in an eyebrow raise from his unwanted observer. "the fuck you smiling at?" shinichiro asked, grinning. "damn, get off my dick, shin. none of your business." "it's that girl you fucked last night, isn't it?" he said, moving his eyebrows up in down in the most obnoxious way. "well, yeah, we're gonna meet up and fuck again sometime. nothing serious. you're always so interested in making everything sound like some damn romance." wakasa rolled his eyes. shinichiro frowned, replying incredulously, "well, sor-ry for having a fuckin' dream! not all of us can fuck girls left and right." wakasa scoffed. "not my fault your bitchless." "i'm not 'bitchless', i just prefer a girl to like me for more than my cock." shinichiro defended. "it's really not that serious. if you go into it thinking it's gonna be this whole romantic and idealistic shit, it's not. yeah, they want you for your dick. but you want them for their pussy. it works out." it was shinichiro's turn to roll his eyes. "not everyone can just sleep around like it's no big deal. i want someone who likes me for more than just my amazing, gorgeous, sexy body." wakasa shook his head, "well good luck, because you don't even fit that bill either." shinichiro gasped, "shut the fuck up! i can dream, okay?!" with that, he stormed away. wakasa shook his head. shinichiro was always getting his heart broken. how did he not see that keeping things casual was better than wasting your time trying to win someone over for more than just sex? it wasn't worth the time.

for the next few weeks, something idiotic was developing in his mind. after those hours of fucking, wakasa found himself wanting to stay. he thought about coming over earlier so he could try your cooking that you bragged about but probably tasted like dog shit. he wanted to watch the stupid movie you were raving about when you stayed up late talking after a few rounds. he spent sleepless nights thinking about the time when you were drunk and told him that he was so sweet behind all his "bad boy" exterior (whatever she meant by that). more than a few times he awoke to dreams of fucking you senseless. but more concerning were the dreams in which you held his hand, gently smiling at him as you walked toward a street food vendor. it was like, dating shit. he didn't do dates. so why the fuck was he dreaming about corny shit like some walk-around-town time with you? he briefly considering calling the whole thing off. just biting the bullet and texting you he just wasn't feeling it anymore. but then he'd hear his phone ding again, and it was a text asking if he was doing anything tonight. or fuck, sometimes it was just some "cursed image" (as you called it) that made him question your sanity. but also made him smile. like, what the fuck, wakasa? just block her. don't have anything to do with her. you don't need that investment in your life. it was goddamn embarassing how fast he'd grab his phone when he heard his phone ding - hoping it was from you. so he couldn't let go. the sex is too good, he reasoned with himself. he hasn't had this level of physical chemistry with anyone. so, he can't take the chance of hoping to find someone else.

as you sat cuddled against wakasa's side, watching the most iconic movie ever (that you forced him into sitting his ass down and watching), you realized something. you and wakasa were... friends. not fake friends were you had to play the part of whatever the fuck he wanted from you. like, genuine friends. you felt you could be - as lame as it sounds - yourself. after the movie ended, you looked up at him. for some reason, an image of him pushing back your hair to kiss your forehead flashed through your mind. but friends didn't do that shit. and neither did hookups. but eh, everyone gets like that sometimes, right?

"'m gonna order some food. what kinda rice do you want?" "just get me whatever you're having. don't feel like thinking right now." he laughed. "lazy ass." you grinned at your position on the couch, watching him as he leaned against the dining table. "says the guy who lives his entire life on 'minimal effort mode'." "it wasn't an insult." "damn. here i was thinking you were being a big meanie, but you're just a real sweetheart, aren't you?" he rolled his eyes. "shut up. 'm ordering a bunch of shit because i know you always want egg rolls." "this is true. i'm big back and proud." he shook his head, withholding a grin, much to your amusement.

it was such a stupid moment. he was just ordering food while chatting with you idly. but fuck. he has feelings for you. and not just "i wanna fuck you" feelings. the kinda mushy, lame shit shinichiro was always yappin' about. the kind of shit that made him think of the future rather than always looking toward the past. he wanted to be more than just a fuck-buddy. in some ways, he felt like you already were. but how the hell is he supposed to ask that? the whole "what are we?" sounds dumb. but exposing his true feelings sounded even more foolish. with that, he decided, it's better not to say anything. it'll go away anyway.

news flash, your feelings were not going away. and yeah, you knew at this point that things were changing. you looked at him not with soley physical attraction, but also a deep, emotional connection. you felt like you clicked on a whole different level than any of the other guys you'd attempted to date before. it's not like you could help it. wakasa... there was just something so magnetic about him. something inexplicable that drew you to him. that made it impossible to leave him on read. more than a few times you texted until the sun shone through your windows. and it wasn't sexting. it was talking about stupid shit, or sometimes even getting down to a little bit of some of those issues you've been pushing away because it's easier to ignore them than address them and work through all the mountain of garbage you've carried your entire life. you understood each other the way no one else did. falling in love with him - if you dared use that "L" word - seemed like it was set in stone. once you went beyond sex, it was like love was unavoidable. even when you tried to search for reasons to dislike him - any part of him that made you decide was too much of a red flag to have any sort of loss of feelings - you came up empty. sure, he's not perfect, but fuck if he isn't perfect for you. how could you burden him with your feelings? you already knew talking about it would ruin everything. both of you didn't do relationships. how stupid would it be to suggest one?

you both lay panting on either side of your mattress. unexpectedly, wakasa asked, "...are you..." he exerted another breath, "seeing... any other... guys?" your eyes widened in surprise. "...not currently... why?" you hated that a part of you desperately hoped that he was jealous. he glanced away from you. "ah, it's nothin'." you sat up on your elbows. "is it really nothing? waka, are you upset?" he shook his head fervently. "nah, no. it's really nothin'." you raised an eyebrow but conceded. "...well, okay. if you say so." wakasa's eyes found your own. and he stared into your eyes like he never had before. like he was studying them. memorizing every color, every outline, every speckle. his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, then back again. "can i..." he licked his lips, "can i... kiss you?" you let out a small laugh. "you've never asked before." he looked down. "...nevermind." yet, you understood what he meant. asking.... it was different. it meant something. something deeper than just expressing lust and bodily desire. so, you leaned forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. your mouths moved against each other, yet it was delecate. reverent. like both of you wanted to savor this moment forever, rather than pull apart for something as trivial as air. as you parted at last, after a quick breath, wakasa leaned in for a gentle kiss on your mouth. as he parted, his eyes found yours. and you could no longer deny that your hopes were not unfounded. "i love you, waka." he blinked slowly. "i love you, too."

a/n: rahhhh i think this might be one of my favorites. please share your thoughts!

#tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa smut #tr wakasa #tokrev wakasa #tokyo revengers wakasa #tokyo rev #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Injured (Alexia's Version): Future II

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You go to Manuelas

TW: using sex to reinforce ideas of low self-worth, mentions of eating disorder

You didn't come to Manuelas often.

It was a bad idea, drinking in the club Olga owned. All of the workers knew who you were, dragged out on staff dinners and in the background of Olga's video meetings.

There's no way you could get in without someone noticing who you were.

It's not that you were banned. If anything, Mami and Olga would probably prefer it if you did your drinking in the safe walls of Manuelas where the staff would call them if you needed a pick up.

It would be fine if drinking was all that you were doing.

But you don't go to clubs for the drinks. In fact, you don't even really like the taste of alcohol all that much. It was a means to an end, getting you tipsy enough to approach someone in the crowd. But that was only if you weren't approached first.

And you were almost always approached first.

It was easy now, a practiced routine.

You'd go into a club, hang around at the bar for a bit before going onto the dance floor where, no doubt, some older woman would come over and offer to buy you a drink.

It was practiced. It was easy.

It was self destructive.

You knew why you came to these clubs. You knew what you came there for.

You wanted it quick and rough. You wanted to be demeaned and talked down to because it made you feel better that you weren't the only one that saw yourself like that.

Hooking up in club toilets with a woman double your age that couldn't care less about you made you feel better at yourself.

You couldn't do that Manuelas.

Or, you couldn't do that at Manuelas on days when Olga or her close circle were skulking around, which was almost every weekend.

The only reason you were here now was because your usual club wasn't open today and after another day of brutal practice with no end in sight, you needed to feel something.

Even if it was some woman's hand around you as she took you hard and rough and whispered filthy things in your ear.

You should go home, you know. You should go home to your Mami and let her wrap you up in a warm hug and let her tell you that you were worth something and that she loved you.

But you were here.

At Manuelas on a day you knew Olga was at home and her closest staff were busy in a meeting in the back room.

Or, at least, they should be.

Alexia sighs as Olga pulls her in through the open backdoor.

"I am old, amor," She says with a small huff of laughter," My old bones cannot take going to the club anymore."

It's a joke, nothing more than teasing and Olga rolls her eyes.

"Not even my club?"

"Well," Alexia says," If it's your club..."

With Jaume at a youth camp for the week and you staying over at your friend's, the house had been blissfully silent and all too empty.

She and Olga had a nice dinner before growing restless. It didn't suit the family, Alexia thinks, to have the house devoid of her kids.

Olga wasn't due to go in to the meeting at Manuelas but that didn't mean she thought going there was a bad idea which was how Alexia found herself there now, nursing a drink in one hand and holding whatever fruity cocktail Olga had chosen in the other.

Manuelas had come a long way from the pop up club it used to be, now boasting several permanent bases in the country. Alexia was still glad though that one thing stayed the same - namely the fact that she got free drinks.

It certainly payed to be the wife of the owner.

Olga's gone off to greet a few people upstairs, despite denying the fact that this was all a ploy to see how the meeting was going.

Alexia's left downstairs by herself and does what she does best.

People watch.

Manuelas is still exactly like it was when it was first opened, a throng of dancers grinding and making out on the dancefloor.

The same as practically every other lesbian club in the city.

There's nothing unusual about it but Alexia still leans against the bar and surveys the crowd.

There's movement (or rather more movement than normal) to the left of the crowd as a pair breaks out of the dancing.

It's hard to see in the low light but Alexia feels a bolt of lightning shoot down her spine before she's even computed what she's looking at.

You're pressed up against the wall, head tilted to the side as a woman kisses your neck.

You're meant to be at a friend's house. That's what you've told Alexia.

You were going over to a friend's house after practice and you would be staying the night.

But clearly, you're not because you're here.

At Olga's club with a woman that is so clearly not your age whispering filthy things to you.

Alexia's moving towards you without a second thought and you open half lidded eyes to look at her.

You jolt suddenly, straightening up and pushing the woman away from your neck when you notice Alexia there.

She's not meant to be here and you look around wildly because you know if Mami's here then Olga's around here somewhere too.

Your face floods with embarrassment and you leave your partner for the evening.

Even now, Alexia's angry face makes you feel like a little girl again. Like that same little girl who sat in her car seat after another failed football training.

Like the same stupid teenager who starved herself to fit into a shirt that Alexia accidentally bought one size too small.

"Mami..." You say, throat bobbing," I-"

"Are you okay?" Alexia asks you, cupping your face," Are you safe?"

"Mami...I..."

"Bambi," Alexia says, her eyes boring into yours," Talk to me. Are you alright?"

"I..." Your throat bobs and you're right back to that little girl again, the one staring up at Alexia as she grins down at you, that stupid teenager that had once sobbed in her arms after hurting your ankle during practice. "I want to go home, Mami. Please take me home."

Alexia looks into your eyes. You're not drunk, maybe a little tipsy but definitely not drunk. You're not high either. No one's laced anything you've taken.

You're still trembling though and your head falls forward onto Alexia's shoulder, to hide the way tears fall down your cheeks.

You don't know why you're crying. You don't know why you're suddenly so emotional.

You'd set out this evening to hook up with someone, feeling so bad and wrong in your own skin that you needed someone's body pressed up against yours to feel good about yourself again.

You still want that. Just not with a partner.

You want a hug from Mami, curled up next to her in bed at home. You want her to hold you and tell you how much she loves you and how she's never going to let anything bad happen to you.

You're an adult now.

You shouldn't feel this way.

But you're always going to be that little girl that craved love from your Mami.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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mylifeofcrumbs · 1 year ago

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$30 Cocktails Are Now a Real Thing!

The $30 Cocktail, coming to a city near you sooner than later.

Weekend Cocktail Club – Don’t Drink Basic *This special edition of WCC will tie into another story I’m on.* So since the pandemic restaurants have been incrementally sneaking up their prices. With so many people working remote now, there has been a redistribution of how and where many are spending their money. If you are couped up in your house or apartment most of the time getting outside of…

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#Expensive Things #Fancy Drinks #NYC #Weekend Cocktail Club

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dolcecherub · 1 month ago

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Don’t Cha ༊*·˚

❥ pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

❥ tags: op81, drunk!reader a little, pining and heartbreak, happy ending, angst, some other stuff lol

❥ yap: had a burst of energy and wrote this in a few hours, based on this lovely request here!! hope it’s as good as you hoped anon, and I hope y’all enjoy <3

❥ word count: 2.5k

The bar is dimly lit, the lights low and warm, filtering through cheap string bulbs, fluorescent neon lights and half-sipped cocktails. Bodies moulding against each other to the bass you felt thrumming through your chest.

It’s the kind of place that you go to pretend, escape if you will.

It had been a long weekend, the Miami Grand Prix having been exciting yet tiring for you and the rest of the McLaren team. A few people from engineering and the PR team decided it was worth the celebration, and who were you to decline?

And so you found yourself tucked into a little, off-the-curb bar in Miami, swaying your hips to the sound of a strong bass and some bad karaoke. Your cheeks flushed with heat, and the alcohol coursing through you. A velvet dress clung to your body, makeup light to avoid sweating it off in the Miami heat, and a cute pair of black heels. You told yourself you dressed up simply for your own pleasure. Your mind catches the lie as he walks in.

You pretend not to notice him.

You’re far enough away to pretend you don’t see them.

Pretend not to acknowledge the way your chest tightens seeing his arm around her. Your hand grips your glass tightly as his eyes catch yours, dark and curious.

You feel your body flush at his gaze. You didn’t expect him to show up, but you suppose Lando told him about the group’s plans. You tell yourself it’s always about the group.

You see Lando walk up to him, hand on his back, greeting him as they chat. Taking a final sip of your drink, you place it on the bar counter before rejoining some of the girls, pushing Oscar away from the forefront of your mind, unsuccessfully.

Your eyes can’t help but wander back to him as you dance, his arm around her shoulder bringing her closer as he places a kiss on the crown of her head, your heart clenching.

She’s always there, always. The girlfriend he always brings to race weekend, who doesn’t know tyre strategy or how he gets quiet and fidgety before qualifying. The one who barely smiles for him and rather only for the cameras.

It’s torture watching them.

It’s as if he knows you’re watching him, maybe he does, perhaps that’s why he refuses to look at you now.

You pretend it doesn’t hurt.

You feel a hand grab your arm, pulling you closer to the karaoke area, one of the girls, Ella, dragging you away.

“Come on,” your friend hisses, half-drunk and fearless, holding the karaoke list in one hand like it’s a challenge. “You have to sing,” she pleads, “One song, you know, the song.” She yells over the noise of the club.

Your eyes flick back to Oscar. You shake your head, “Not tonight.” She follows your eyes, pinpointing the exact shift in your mood, and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be boring, just do the song.” She drags, pushing you forward as she gets up to talk to the DJ manning the karaoke station. “The Pussycat Dolls one,” she says, eyes sparkling with malice. “You know, the one that makes men cry and women rage.”

Your smile is bitter, “Subtle.” You laugh sarcastically.

“And that’s what makes it perfect!” Ella giggles.

You glance back at Oscar. He’s nursing a drink as his girl chats to another, skillfully ignoring him aside from the physical contact.

Something snaps in you. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the sweet ache in your chest that never goes away when you’re near him. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks miserable, that even with her beside him, he looks utterly alone. Maybe it’s the sheer, desperate desire to make him feel something, anything directed at you.

You scrawl down your name on the paper, the pen scratching aggressively against the cheap paper as Ella cheers triumphantly.

“You’re evil,” You mutter lovingly, a subtle smile on your face.

“I try my best,” she grins. “Now make him suffer.”

When the host calls your name, you slide onto the stage like a secret. Your velvet dress clings to your body viciously, leaving nothing to the imagination as a few boys holler at you.

The music starts before you’re fully ready, but then again, you’ve been ready for months. The opening beats slink through the bar like smoke. It’s sultry and confident, everything you claim to feel on the outside, a thin veneer over the raw, exposed nerve beneath.

A few heads turn, some hollering at the song choice, and others focusing on you. His head turns, eyes locking with yours as you sing through the first verse, body swaying to the beat, hands roaming your body as you put on a show.

Oscar freezes, utterly and completely dumbfounded. The blankness in his eyes is replaced by a sudden, intense focus that pins you to the spot.

♪I know you like me (I know you like me)♪

♪I know you do (I know you do)♪

♪That’s why whenever I come around, she’s all over you♪

You bite out the lyrics, eyes still stuck on him as he licks his lips. You sing it like the truth, audience blurring around him, his arm loosening from around her shoulder.

♪And I know you want it (I know you want it)♪

♪It’s easy to see (It’s easy to see)♪

♪And in the back of your mind, I know you should be fuckin’ with me♪

The lyrics purr through the speakers, thick with implication, his jaw ticking. The words hanging in the air, undeniable, a public accusation.

♪Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me♪

♪Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like?

You sing it with purpose, a fake smile plastered on your face as you perform, only for him. Every word is deliberate, he looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

♪Don’t cha? Don’t cha, baby♪

♪Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me?♪

♪Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?♪

You hear Ella sing alongside you, eyes still locked on Oscar. His arm drops from her shoulder, his girlfriend finally noticing, nudging him lightly.

♪Fight the feeling (fight the feeling)♪

♪Leave it alone (Leave it alone)♪

♪‘Cause if it ain’t love, It just ain’t enough to leave a happy home (uh-uh, uh-uh)♪

You watch her lean in to say something to him, lips close to his ears, trying to grasp his attention. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t hear her. Because you’re still singing, and he’s watching. His mind aches to look away, and somehow he can’t, his gaze locked on yours with a mixture of shock, recognition, and something raw and painful.

♪Let’s keep it friendly (Let’s keep it friendly)♪

♪You have to play fair (you have to play fair, yeah)♪

♪See I don’t care but I know she ain’t gonna wanna share (Ah, ah-ah)♪

The words are claws, real and cruel. Only because they’re true. It’s not just a song anymore.

It’s a declaration.

You see the tension in his jaw as she looks at him, confused, then irritated. You keep going, disregarding her actions as you sway, a few hollers coming from the dance floor.

♪…I’d probably be just as crazy about you if you were my own man♪

The lyric bites with truth, your voice dipping lower as you finish off the last chorus.

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? (Oh)

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? (Like me)

Don't cha? Don't cha, baby? Don't cha?

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me? (Raw)

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me? (Big fun)

Don't cha? (Ah-ah-ah), don't cha?

The final lyric lingers like a question in the air between you.

By the time you finish, the bar erupts. Whistles and applause, you see Ella cheering you and Lando cupping his mouth as he yells out encouragingly. Some guy at the front was shouting something, drunk and appreciative. You finish with a defiant smile, the mic stand your only support as your heart hammers a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

You slink off the small stage, heart pounding. But your eyes are still on him, and his are burning. With what, you don’t know. Anger? Guilt? Desire? Maybe all of it. You yell to Ella that you’re stepping out for air.

You’re outside before he can reach you.

The air bites at your skin, a slight breeze nipping at you, a sharp contrast to the smoky warmth of the club, your pulse still racing from the performance. You needed space, just a breather alone, you think, running a haphazard hand through your hair.

You barely get two minutes of it before you hear footsteps; you know they’re his.

Oscar finds you, your head whipping around to see him walking towards you, quick and purposeful. He stops a few feet away, hand tousling his hair before he crosses them.

“That was a hell of a choice,” he says, voice low and rough. It’s not an accusation, but it sure as hell isn’t praise either.

You turn completely towards him, the biting air making your eyes water slightly. “It’s just a song, didn’t think you’d really notice.” You snap.

He scoffs, bitter as he rolls his eyes, a sour smirk crossing his face. “Hard not to, you were singing it at me.”

“Maybe I was,” you say aggressively. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending like I understand what’s happening.” You admit, arms wrapping around yourself subconsciously.

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “What is happening, then?”

You stare at him, your chest aching to get closer. His eyes are locked onto yours, glassy and dark, his expression grim. “You tell me, Oscar. You’re the one who calls me when you’re upset or you’ve crashed. The one who finds me in a crowd, like I’m the only place you recognize. The one who looks at me like you’re drowning and I’m your last breath of air. And yet you’re still with her.” You spit, emotions wracking you as you admit your confusion,

He flinches. It’s subtle, but you notice. You always notice.

“I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” he says, breath catching. You shake your head at his misunderstanding.

“You didn’t drag me into anything, I ran to you. Every single time, I picked up when you called, let you talk to me like she wasn’t right there. I ran straight into it because it was you. It’s always been you.” You confess, voice breaking near the end as you look away.

Silence.

The air between you is thick, suffocating with unspoken words. You continue, “But you’re not mine to want, are you?” It’s a statement, not a question.

He grabs your wrist, pulling your arms away from your body as he steps closer. His fingers are warm against your skin, your heart pounding in your chest as warmth radiates off of him in the breeze.

“She doesn’t get it,” he says hoarsely. His voice is low and strained. “She never did,” He clarifies, his grip tightening. “She doesn’t understand. Racing. You. Me-”

“Don’t,” you whisper, interrupting him, heart cracking at his words. The words are a plea. “Don’t say it unless you’re going to do something about it.” Your chest rises and falls fast as you lightly gasp for air.

A beat. Then another. “Why are you still with her?” You ask quietly, as if the question will break him. He swallows, a shift in his eyes, the way something finally breaks.

“I’m not, I ended it,” He says quickly, voice shaking. The words are almost lost in the breeze, but you hear them perfectly. “Just now, after your song. She stormed out.” He spoke quietly.

Your breath catches. You stare at him, stunned. “You what?” You asked breathlessly, needing the confirmation again.

“I should’ve done it months ago,” He confesses, his voice stronger now, relief washing over him. “But I kept lying to myself. Telling myself it was easier. That I wasn’t already in love with someone else.”

Your heart trips, a frantic drum in your chest as his words settle in. “Say it again,” You plead, heart aching to hear the words, the confirmation that this isn’t just some sick joke.

He steps closer confidently, the streetlights casting a shadow across his face, emphasizing his features in a way that makes your head spin. “I’m in love with you.” He says, clear as day, as if no wind were strong enough to carry those words away from you.

“Every time I see you, I try not to. I try to pretend like you’re not all I think about. Every time she said something that didn’t fit, I thought about what you might say. All I wanted was you.” He admitted, his eyes running over your face, trying to understand you without words.

Your chest aches with how much you’ve wanted this, how long you’ve imagined those words.

Still, of course, you’d make him earn it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper, moving slightly closer to him, craving to be close.

“Because I’m an idiot,” He chuckles dryly, “I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know how to. I know I was unfair, and I-I’m not asking you to forgive me right away, I just need you to know. I need you to believe that it’s always been you.” His voice filled with urgency.

A second passes, and everything is still. No music, no crowd, no noise, just the two of you and everything that was never said.

Then you move, surging forward and grabbing the collar of his shirt with both hands as you pull him down, lips crashing into his. It’s messy and careless, months of restraint snapping in half.

He kisses you feverishly, like he’s making up for lost time. His kiss is desperate and unsteady, lips and breath, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as his hands find their way to your waist. He holds you tightly as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. You stand up a little on your toes, trying to get more of him as he pulls you closer.

He nips your bottom lip, making you gasp at the teasing, allowing his tongue to slip in and brush against your own, tangling messily as you whine. You break apart only when the air runs out, foreheads pressed together, your breaths tangled.

His lips are glossy, a string of saliva momentarily connecting your lips before it breaks. His cheeks are flushed, eyes dark and focused on you. You’re certain you look similar.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, been waiting for you to realize that I was always right here. I love you.” You say breathlessly, the tiniest smile breaking through the emotions. His shoulders sag with relief, eyes brightening at your smile, as if it lifted any weight left on his shoulders.

“I’m not saying it just once,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. “I’ll say it every fucking day if you let me.” He promises, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

And in that moment, tangled up with Oscar in your own little world stripped down to nothing but the truth, you think that maybe, just maybe, you will.

*·˚

166 notes · View notes

httpvomitello · 2 months ago

Note

helloooo stunner!!

I just had a thought, so Bucky and reader are dating and they're out shopping for an upcoming event, maybe a fancy dinner at the compound that Stark is organising and when Bucky suggests a dress he finds reader says it's pretty but it's more a "going out" dress but not an "out-out" kind of dress

cue the old man confusion while he tries to compute that women assign outfits an "out"-ness level and poor boy is just lost

please drink enough water and have a lovely rest of your weekend xx

Ooh no! Poor dude would be so lost, but also really funny to watch, hehe. I hope you like it ~ ☆

(don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!)

Levels of Out .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: Shopping with your boyfriend Bucky Barnes for a Stark-organized dinner sounded simple. Until you realized he had no idea that women have different "out levels" for outfits—and you were about to break his super-soldier brain trying to explain it.

bucky barnes x f!reader

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just wear one of the dresses you already have?” Bucky asked, adjusting the cuff of his leather jacket as he followed you into the boutique.

You grinned over your shoulder. “You haven’t seen my closet lately, Barnes. I have ‘casual cute,’ ‘casual deadly,’ and ‘oops, I accidentally look like I’m about to rob a bank.’ None of those scream ‘classy dinner party.’”

Bucky snorted. “Pretty sure Tony’s just gonna show up in a suit made outta LEDs.”

“Exactly,” you said, laughing. “I need to at least pretend I’m not a walking threat.”

He huffed, but you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You both wandered through the racks for a few minutes. Bucky trailed behind you like a giant, brooding puppy, occasionally picking up a hanger, inspecting whatever fabric monstrosity he found, and then setting it back down like it might bite him.

You loved him.

You really, really did.

But fashion?

Not his battlefield.

You were flipping through a rack of cocktail dresses when Bucky’s voice floated over:

“What about this one?”

You turned — and immediately bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

He was holding up a tiny, black, strappy number that looked like it belonged in a Vegas club at two a.m., not a classy Stark event.

Bucky’s face was hopeful. A little proud, even.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Where exactly do you think we’re going?”

He blinked, utterly lost. “The dinner? At the compound?”

You laughed. “Bucky, that’s a ‘going out’ dress. Not an ‘out-out’ dress.”

Bucky stared at you like you’d just started speaking ancient Latin.

“I—” he paused, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t understand. You’re either going out or you’re not, right?”

You shook your head, walking closer and taking the hanger from his hand. “No, see, there’s levels.”

“Levels,” he repeated flatly, frowning.

You nodded solemnly. “Levels. Like—okay. ‘Going out’ means dinner, fancy drinks, maybe mingling. A nice dress, maybe some heels, but nothing too wild. ‘Out-out’ is like... shots at midnight, dancing till your feet hurt, glitter everywhere, waking up the next morning missing at least one earring and half your dignity.”

Bucky looked painfully confused.

“So... this—” he pointed at the dress, “—this is an ‘out-out’ dress?”

“Exactly,” you said, beaming at him like he was your favorite student. “This is, 'we’re not making it to brunch', vibes.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “In my day, you just wore your best suit and hoped for the best.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Welcome to modern womanhood, Sergeant Barnes.”

He sighed dramatically but smiled when you brushed his hair back affectionately.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said, voice low.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you teased.

The poor man spent the next thirty minutes gamely following you from rack to rack, solemnly inspecting dresses and every so often checking in:

“Is this ‘out’ or ‘out-out’?”

“This one’s ‘out,’ right? I don’t see glitter.”

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, you found it—a sleek, elegant navy dress that hit all the right notes. Formal without being stiff. Flattering without being scandalous. It made you feel beautiful, powerful.

You stepped out of the fitting room, smoothing the fabric nervously.

Bucky turned—and his whole face changed.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you, slow and careful, like he needed a second to catch up.

You shifted awkwardly. “Too much?”

He shook his head immediately, walking over. “You look…”

He swallowed, voice rough.

“You look incredible, doll.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Good ‘out’ level?” you teased.

He huffed a soft laugh, cupping your face gently in his big, calloused hands. “Perfect level.”

You leaned into him, grinning.

And when he kissed you, there in the middle of the boutique, it was slow and reverent—the kind of kiss that made you forget you were surrounded by overpriced perfume and strangers pretending not to stare.

When he finally pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed to yours.

“Still think you should’ve worn the glittery one, though,” he muttered, just to make you laugh.

You shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Behave, Barnes,” you said.

He smirked. “No promises.”

The Stark compound had never looked fancier.

Somewhere between the glittering fairy lights, the jazz band playing a little too loudly, and the suspiciously expensive hors d'oeuvres, you were starting to wonder if Tony had bribed an entire team of wedding planners just for a dinner party.

You smoothed your dress again, nerves buzzing.

Bucky caught your hand, squeezing it gently.

“You look beautiful,” he said under his breath, like he needed to remind you (or himself) every five minutes.

Before you could thank him, you both heard a familiar voice:

“Well, well, well,” Tony Stark said, sauntering up with a drink in hand and a shit-eating grin. “If it isn’t the Winter Snuggle Soldier.”

Bucky stiffened immediately. “Don’t start, Stark.”

Tony ignored him completely, turning to you with an exaggerated bow. “Ma’am. Congratulations on successfully domesticating Barnes. We thought it couldn’t be done.”

You bit back a laugh.

“Pretty sure he domesticated himself,” you said sweetly, watching Bucky’s jaw tick.

Tony winked. “Sure, sure. Next thing you know, he’s gonna be carrying your purse and getting really passionate about paint swatches.”

“Shut up, Stark,” Bucky muttered, reaching for one of the tiny champagne flutes on a passing tray like it might save him.

Tony just grinned wider.

“Seriously though,” Tony said, tone suddenly a little softer. “Good look on you, Barnes. You’re almost... bearable.”

Bucky just grunted, but you saw the way his ears turned pink.

Tony tapped his glass against Bucky’s. “To being whipped,” he said cheerfully, and before Bucky could retaliate, Tony was already disappearing into the crowd.

You leaned closer to Bucky, smiling into your glass.

“You know... he’s not wrong.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you in mock suspicion. “You planning to make me carry your purse?”

You shrugged innocently.

“Depends. Would you?”

He grunted again, but his hand found yours automatically, threading your fingers together.

“For you?”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, soft and quick.

“Yeah. I would.”

Your heart did a stupid, messy somersault in your chest.

You bumped your shoulder against his.

“Whipped.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of your hand.

Not even for a second.

217 notes · View notes

mountsmase · 10 months ago

Text

I’m Yours

a/n : hi!! I can’t believe I’m finally posting this fic! I’ve had this concept sat in my drafts since March and I went through a bit of a hard time with writing but I’ve now turned this idea into something that I’m really proud of 🥹 this is the first time I’ve attempted to write something where the reader and Mase aren’t already in an established relationship, so I really hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!! These two are my babies 🥺 I really hope you enjoy ❤️ feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻 (also it’s my first time trying an actual header so please let me know what you think)

word count: 14k +

genre: fluff and smut

“There you are”

The deep rumble of your best friends voice startles you, his suit clad body brushing against the bare skin of your arm as he appears next to you.

Mason pulls out the chair beside your own, sitting down with you in the secluded corner of the crowded room.

The Together for Short Lives gala is well and truly underway, the large ballroom decorated in elegant black and gold furnishings as people talk amongst themselves around the room. It’s packed, an amazing turn out for such a meaningful event.

The evening so far has been nothing short of special, with a dinner followed by an auction, all of the money going to an amazing cause. Your heart filled with pride watching Mason up on the stage and you’re so grateful that he chose to share this night with you.

“You disappeared on me” Mason pouts, glancing down at the cocktail you’re holding in your hands before taking it from you and lifting it to his lips.

He takes a sip and you giggle at the face he pulls as he clearly didn’t enjoying the sweet tasting drink as much as he thought he would.

“Sorry, I just went to get another drink and then I couldn’t find you” You tell him, taking your glass back when he offers it to you.

“You should’ve called me, I’d of come to find you” He replies, and you try to ignore the way your tummy flutters at his words.

“I know you would’ve, but I can handle being alone for a bit, I’m a big girl”

There’s a playful glint in his eyes when you look up at him.

“But what if I wanted to come and find you?”

“Well you’re here now, so it couldn’t of been that difficult” You grin, watching as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and you’re briefly distracted when he reaches up to adjust his tie.

You and Mason have been friends for as long as you can remember.

Your dads used to work together when they were younger and they always had a close relationship both in and out of work, which led to your families becoming close as well. Your mums became inseparable when they were introduced, and a few years later, when you and Mason were born only a few months apart, you naturally became inseparable too.

You grew up together, your parents keeping you close despite the fact that you attended two different schools, and as you got older, your bond only grew stronger.

Some of your best memories are with Mason, you’d stay the weekend at each others houses, spend long afternoons doing homework together before playing in the garden, and there were even a few summers where your families had joint holidays.

It was the two of you against the world, and it had always been that way.

That is until his football career started to take off. You were so proud of him. Your friend was playing for one of the best clubs in the England and you were over the moon to see him doing so well.

But, it unfortunately meant that he became busier and was spending more and more time in London and away from Portsmouth. You tried your best to stay in touch, messaging all the time and video calling when you eventually got phones, but you can’t deny that it was hard not having him around anymore.

Things only started to get difficult when he went on loan to Vitesse when you were 18. It was harder to keep contact with him being away and being so focussed on football, but you’d never blame him for the fact you drifted apart.

You were in college at the time, spending any available minuet that you had on your classes, making sure you could pass your exams and get into the uni you’d always dreamed of attending.

It was difficult, you couldn’t be there for each other as much as you’d of liked to be, and as much as you’d both tried your hardest to stop it, it started becoming harder and harder as time went on.

You’d only see each other at family events like birthdays and weddings and it got to the point where you’d only talk once every few months or so. Even when he came back to the UK and was living in Cobham, you’d video call to catch up and then not speak to each other again for weeks unless you had something specific to talk about.

It was all part of growing up though. He was still one of your best friends, someone you knew you could trust and could call if you ever needed anything, and you were the same to him.

You both became increasingly busy, especially when he began playing for the first team and you were going through university, so it made sense that it became harder to make time for each other.

But, last year, it all changed.

After graduating from university and receiving your degree three years ago, you were presented with an amazing job opportunity in Manchester, which you just couldn’t say no to. It was a big change for you, moving somewhere so far away from home and having to start a new life in a new city, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You’re doing amazing at work, having received a promotion not even two years after joining your company, and you’ve got a cute little apartment that you’ve well and truly made your own.

You really didn’t think it could get much better, but you were proved wrong when Mason transferred to Man United last summer.

After a lot of uncertainty surrounding his career, Mason was relived to finally know who he would be playing for next season and was excited to start his new life up in Manchester.

You were one of the only people he knew in the city, and when he reached out, you offered for him to stay in your spare bedroom whilst he settled in and found a place to call his own.

He obviously took you up on your offer, loving the extra time he got to spend with you and the familiarity that came with being in your presence.

You had the best month living together. It was like you’d never been apart, all of those years of having distance between you forgotten. You’d cook dinner together, have movie nights, talk to each other after you’d had a bad day at training or work and even after he moved out and into his new home, you still spent as much time together as possible.

You had your best friend back, and you had truly never felt happier.

Now, fast forward 8 months, and you’re questioning if that’s really all you are anymore.

You’ve always known that Mason is an attractive guy. I mean, how could you not? He’s gorgeous.

But recently that attraction has grown deeper. And not only in a physical way.

The last couple of months have been filled with lingering touches and longing gazes, the line between friendship and something more slowly becoming blurred.

He’s no longer just Mason, your best friend, but he’s Mason, the guy you think, sorry, know that you’re in love with.

Mason is one of the few people who treats you like you’re somebody. He makes you feel like the most special girl in the world without even trying and you’ve had to remind yourself one too many times recently that there’s nothing more going on between you.

You haven’t mentioned your feelings to him because you’re scared. Scared of loosing him and ruining what is such an important friendship to you. Scared that you aren’t enough for him.

You didn’t have the best experience in your last relationship, and you know deep down that Mason would never treat you the way he did and that there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You’re a pretty girl who has good morals and a good head on your shoulders.

But, the fear that you’re not good enough - that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wants and needs - still clouds your mind, and it’s one of the reasons why you won’t admit anything to him.

And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? After the last couple of months you know deep down that he could, but the last thing you want is to throw away your friendship over it.

You just can’t ignore the growing tension between the two of you.

But…neither can he.

Mason has felt for a long time that there’s no one else for him but you, and his feelings for you just grew stronger after moving to Manchester.

You took him in and made him feel at home in a city where mostly everything was new to him, supported him through a tough transition period, and after moving out of your spare bedroom he found himself craving your company more than anyone else’s.

You feel like home to him.

Tough day at training? He wants to see you. He saw something funny on TikTok? It’s you he wants to send it to you. He burnt his toast that morning? He wants to tell you. You’re at the forefront of his mind all the time.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever set his eyes on, both inside and out. You’ve got a heart of gold and he would do anything in his power to protect you from the harsh reality’s of the world. You’re the most important person to him, he just wants to make you happy and see you smiling all the time.

This tension that’s been building between you recently has been killing him, and as much as he worries that you won’t feel the same way, he doesn’t think he can hold in his feelings much longer.

There’s been too many moments where he’s had to stop himself from leaning in and claiming your lips with his own, and it’s been becoming harder and harder to restrain himself.

Especially tonight.

He’d invited you to join him and Lewis as a plus one to the black tie gala, wanting to experience the evening with you and share something that’s always been so special to him.

When you stepped out of the lift earlier in the evening, his heart soared at the sight of you in your floor length gown. You left him speechless, and he’s not been able to take his eyes off of you ever since.

The black material hugs your body in all of the right places, perfectly contrasting against your tanned skin. You’ve matched it with a pair of strappy heals and silver jewellery, going for a simple yet elegant look.

There’s a slit down the left side, starting at your upper thigh, and the sight of your leg poking out from underneath the satin fabric has Mason’s mind wandering to places that he knows it shouldn’t.

You look absolutely stunning, and he’s been struggling to hold himself back all evening.

He’s found his attention drifting to you through out the night, more often than not becoming distracted from whatever conversation he’s having to admire you, and he’d quickly become captivated by your presence.

Sitting next to you now is no different, he can’t help but let his eyes drift down your body and your cheeks heat when you notice his wandering gaze.

There’s a look of longing in his eyes, one you’ve become familiar with, but until tonight you’ve always thought that you’ve been imagining it.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, Mase”

The sound of your soft voice has his attention snapping away from your body, and your heart skips a beat when his warm brown eyes find yours.

His cheeks flush from being caught, but his confidence doesn’t falter.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He whispers, loud enough for only you to hear and the teasing smirk that finds his lips has your heart racing in your chest.

You’re overcome by a wave of shyness, any response that you may have had dying in your throat as he shuffles closer to you, his knee nudging into yours under the table.

He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but the urge to touch you suddenly becomes too much to ignore. He finds himself reaching out, his warm palm landing against your exposed thigh as his other arm snakes behind you, resting against the back of your chair. Your skin burns under his touch, breath hitching in your throat when his thumb rubs in tender circles over the inside of your thigh.

Mason has always been a touchy person, you’ve seen and experienced it over your years of friendship, but there’s something about the way he’s touching you now that has your head spinning.

His hand ventures a little higher and you fumble to open your purse, pulling out your lipgloss and phone in a desperate attempt to distract yourself and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you’ve avoided his question when you open the camera app, using it as a makeshift mirror to reapply the gloss.

He watches as you swipe the applicator over your pink, plump lips, the action captivating him and it takes all of his self restraint to not lean in and kiss you right there and then.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Bambi”

You pop the lid back onto the tube and place it back into your purse - your distraction techniques having been unsuccessful - and look up and into his eyes.

The whispered compliment has butterflies erupting in your tummy, your lips tugging up into a smile upon hearing the nickname he’s always used for you.

It started when you were 10, you always loved the movie and had invited him over to watch it with you after school one day. About half way through you stood up to go and find more popcorn but being your clumsy self you’d ended up tripping over your own feet.

Mase took the opportunity to compare your clumsiness to that of the deer, and at first he used the nickname as a joke, but then it stuck, and now, even in your twenties he still liked to use it. And you love to hear it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Masey” you tell him, letting your gaze drop briefly and you take allow yourself a moment to admire him.

Mason is handsome even on his worst days - you’re convinced that he could wear the ugliest outfit ever and somehow still pull it off - but there something about the way he looks tonight that has you breathless.

The suit he’s wearing is simple - perfect for a black tie event. A white shirt with a black jacket and trousers, a matching tie and some dress shoes to complete the look. The chest strap that he wore earlier in the evening has been abandoned, the jacket now undone allowing for more of a relaxed look as the evening goes on.

His hair is freshly trimmed, styled into a short quiff and his facial hair is neat, more of a long stubble than a full beard. The lighting in the room is dim, but you can still make out all of his features, the freckles that are dotted over his cheeks, his long lashes and the dimple that appears whenever he smiles. He’s utterly breathtaking.

“Remind me to thank whoever tailored this suit for you” You smile, gaze locking onto his again as you reach up, smoothing your hands over the lapels of his jacket.

“You like it?”

“I love it, you look so handsome” you let your hands drop back into your lap and he misses your touch immediately.

“Yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you nod gently.

You feel his arm move from behind you as he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before brushing down your jaw and you become hyper-aware of how close you are when you feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

It feels as though the air around you has suddenly shifted, his gaze swimming with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The intense eye contact becomes too much for you, your eyes momentarily dropping to his chest but he brings them back to his with a hand cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so that you have no choice but to look at him.

His gaze drops to your lips, once, twice, and a third time, until the desire to feel them against his own becomes too overwhelming. He’s leaning in before he has a chance to stop himself, the lack of hesitation in your eyes only urging him on until someone clears their throat behind you.

“Hey guys” Lewis’ voice snaps you and Mason back to reality, the room around you coming back into focus.

His presence causes Mason to jump away from you, an unwelcome chill touching your skin where his hand no longer rests against your thigh. He groans in annoyance and turns towards his brother.

You release the breath you never realised you were holding, clearing your throat and fiddling nervously with the hem of your dress as Mason looks up at Lewis expectantly.

If he saw anything, he doesn’t let it show.

“Sorry Mase, there’s a few people asking for you”

Mason nods politely, standing up before turning to hold a hand out for you.

“You coming?” He asks, acting as though nothing happened - that he hasn’t just nearly kissed you.

It takes you a few more seconds to regain your composure, blinking up at him a few times before eventually nodding and taking his outstretched hand.

He helps you up, waiting until Lewis has turned away to lift your joint hands to his lips. He places a quick kiss to your knuckles, sending you a soft smile before letting them drop between you again and he doesn’t let go as you follow him through the crowd, fingers still intertwined as Lewis introduces you to an older man who you recognise as one of the event organisers.

You try your best to focus on the conversations that are happening in front of you. You really do.

But it’s hard to concentrate with Mason’s fingers still tangled with yours and the thought of what could’ve happened had Lewis not interrupted you a few moments ago.

That’s the second time you’ve almost kissed him. The first being a few weeks ago when he’d invited you and a few of your other friends over for a games night.

You’d gotten to Mason’s a little earlier than everyone else, wanting to spend a bit of extra time with him before the others arrived and you were in the kitchen, helping him find some snacks and drinks when your favourite song had come on shuffle through the speakers.

One thing led to another and you were dancing around the kitchen, singing your little heart out as Mason stood back and watched you, giggling at your terrible dance moves.

As the song went on you got a little more into it, accidentally crashing into him after tripping over your own feet and he’d reached out to steady you, the two of you laughing together as you found your footing and rested against his chest.

Your laughter had slowly died down, the air around you thickening as you looked up to find him already gazing down at you. The warm look in his eyes could only be described as endearment and what happened next was a bit of blur.

He was leaning in when the door bell went off, the others arriving at the worst time and ruining the moment without even realising.

You’ve thought about it every day since, wondering what could’ve been, and now here you are weeks later, still asking yourself the same questions.

You’re brought back to the present moment when Mason squeezes your hand, dragging your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you.

“You okay?” He mumbles close to your ear, hand letting go of yours to instead wrap around your waist and you melt into his warmth as he tugs you closer.

You nod, sending him a smile that says you’re cool, calm and collected, but it’s as much of a facade as it can be when inside you’re feeling the complete opposite.

“How about one more drink and then we head back to the hotel?” Mason suggests a few hours later, glancing down to his watch and noticing that it’s nearing 11pm.

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to go and talk to a few more people and then I’ll come and find you guys” Lewis tells you before heading to the other side of the room and you follow Mason over to the bar.

“Water?” Mason asks, voice low as you approach counter.

He knows you’re not the biggest drinker, only ever choosing to have one or two drinks when you go out, and you’ve already had a cocktail and a glass of wine with your dinner.

“Please” You smile, glancing over to him as he orders and pays for your drinks.

“Sorry mate, any chance we can grab a straw please?” Mason asks the bar tender when he places your water down in front of you, and you feel your cheeks warm at the simple gesture. You’ve always preferred drinking with straws, some people may think it’s weird, but to Mason it’s just one of the many things he loves about you.

You thank him as he slides the glass towards you, watching as he takes the paper wrapped straw from the bartender with a cheeky grin. He tears off the end of the wrapper, bringing the exposed end of the straw to his lips and you could predict what he was about to do from a mile off, but it still makes you jump when he blows on the straw, sending the paper flying and he laughs as it hits your cheek before landing on the counter next to you.

“Mason” You groan playfully, shaking your head at his childish behaviour. Still, you can’t help but laugh with him, and his heart soars at the sound.

It’s not long later that you’re leaving the venue after finishing your drinks and saying your goodbyes, stepping out into the chilly evening air as Lewis steps aside to call a taxi.

“Did you have a good night?” Mason asks, coming to stand beside you.

A gust of wind ruffles his hair, a couple of strands falling onto his forehead and you have to fight the urge to reach up and brush them away for him.

“Yeah I did, thank you for inviting me, it was special” you smile up at him, rubbing your palms against your bare arms in an attempt to keep warm when the wind picks up. The temperature has dropped significantly since earlier in the evening, and you’re now regretting your choice to not bring a second layer with you.

Mason doesn’t hesitate to slip off his suit jacket when he notices you shivering, slipping it over your shoulders before you can protest. You snuggle into it’s warmth, breathing in the scent of his cologne that still lingers on the fabric.

“Better?” He murmurs, making sure its wrapped around you enough before draping an arm around your shoulders.

“Thank you” You nod, melting into his side when he gently tugs you towards him.

The wait for the taxi isn’t too long, and you stay snuggled up to Mason’s side as he chats away to Lewis about your plans for getting back to Manchester tomorrow. You don’t pay any attention to their conversation though, too busy focussing on his little touches to listen to what they’re saying.

He holds you close, absentmindedly tracing patterns into your shoulder through the material of his jacket. You’re resting against his chest, and it rumbles underneath your cheek whenever he speaks, his soft voice soothing you.

You could stay wrapped up in him forever, but your bubble is popped when the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of you.

Lewis takes the front seat, letting you and Mason sit in the back together and you slide in when he holds the door open for you. He climbs in behind you, pouting as you settle into the far seat rather than the one next to his.

It’s only a short drive back to the hotel, and you spend it in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at Mason every now and then, unable to take your eyes away from him as the street lights shine through the windows, casting a golden glow over his features.

He turns his head suddenly, feeling the heat of your gaze, but you're quick to look away, cheeks blazing when you realise he’s caught you staring.

You start fiddling with your rings, one of the telltale signs that you’re nervous, but a warm hand intertwines with yours, stopping your fidgeting. Mason is already looking at you when you glance up at him, and your heart soars at the gentle look in his eyes. There’s a certain warmth behind them that tells you everything is okay, and you settle back into the seat, sliding your fingers between his and not letting go for the rest of the journey.

Mason is the first out of the car when you pull up in front of your hotel, quickly making his way around to your door before opening it for you and you accept the hand he holds out, letting him help you climb out. He quickly tips and thanks the driver before leading you into the hotel, through the lobby and towards the lifts.

You bid your good nights to Lewis when he steps out on his level, leaving you and Mason alone as the doors close behind him. You settle into another comfortable silence as you continue up to your floor.

The doors slide open and Mason moves aside, letting you step out in front of him before following you down the hall towards your room, wanting to make sure you get back safely.

You stop in front of your door, reaching into your purse to retrieve your room key before turning to thank him for walking you back, but the words get stuck on your tongue, not quite feeling ready to say goodnight to him yet.

“Stay with me tonight?” You whisper, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that has somehow been set in the hallway, “we can order room service and watch something, just like we do at home”

He doesn’t respond straight away, and for a very brief moment you worry that you’ve crossed some sort of line, but you watch as his gaze softens, and he keeps his voice low as he says “Let me just go and grab a few things from my room and then I’ll be back, yeah?”

“Okay” you nod, watching as he heads back down the hallway before letting yourself into your room.

You feel giddy, buzzing with nervous excitement as you slip Mason’s jacket off and lay it over the back of the chair before busying yourself with tidying a few things away, making the room look a bit more presentable as you’d left it a mess in your rush to leave earlier.

You’re not sure where the sudden jitters have come from, it’s Mason. You’ve always spent nights at each others houses, snuggled on the sofa, talking until late before falling asleep in each others company. But something about tonight feels different.

You don’t have long to dwell on it though, hearing two taps on the door as you put the last few bits back into your suitcase.

His smile is bright as you swing the door open, stepping aside for him to come in and your eyes drop to his chest as he brushes past you. He didn’t bother changing, but his tie is nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt now undone and his silver chain - the one that you brought him for his birthday last year - peaks out from underneath the fabric.

You click the door closed behind him, following him into the room and watching as he puts a few things down on the table beside the bed - his charger and what you think is his toothbrush, along with his wallet and a spare change of clothes for the morning.

“So, room service?” He asks, flopping down onto the bed and settling against the headboard.

He makes himself comfortable, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to just below his elbows as you grab the food menu from the desk in front of the TV. Your breath catches in your throat when you turn to face him, your mouth going dry as the dark ink on his forearm steals your attention.

A smirk ghosts his lips upon noticing your brief loss of composure, but he chooses not to bring it up, instead patting the spot next him.

You slip off your heels, putting them to the side before climbing onto the mattress to sit beside him. “How about pizza? I’m not too hungry so maybe we could share?”

“Sounds good, chips as well?” He suggests and you agree, trying to pass him the menu but he doesn’t take it from you, “You choose, I’m not fussed”

You decide on a classic margherita, letting Mason call downstairs to place the order whilst you reach over him and grab the remote from the table next to his side of the bed. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand falls on his upper thigh, not so innocently steadying yourself as you lean over him. You can’t say that you’d meant to touch him like that, but you won’t pretend that you didn’t love his reaction.

“Sorry” you mumble, cheeks flaming as you sit back and busy yourself with turning on the TV, logging into your Netflix account whilst he takes a deep breath next to you and finishes ordering the food.

You put on an episode of a series that you’ve been watching together, catching each other up on some plans that you have for the next couple of weeks whilst you wait for your food to arrive and you eat in a comfortable silence when it does, Mason letting you have the last slice of pizza like always.

After clearing away the tray and placing it in the hallway, you lock the door behind you and settle back onto the bed, tucking yourself into his side when he lifts his arm for you.

“Thank you for coming with us tonight. I know it’s a long way from home but it means a lot to have you at these things with me” He tells you, a warm feeling spreading through you as he pulls you closer and rests his cheek against the top of your head.

His arm settles around you, holding you at the waist as you rest your head against his shoulder. You sling your arm over his torso, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his free hand comes to rest on your forearm, fingertips tracing over your skin.

“Thank you again for inviting me, and you know I don’t mind” You tell him, tightening your arms around him slightly, “I’d fly to the other side of the world with you if you asked me to”

He chuckles into your hair, his smile widening. “Yeah? Looks like I should ask them to have the next gala in Australia then”

“Yes! You know I’ve always wanted to go and meet Kangaroos”

“It’s a long flight though, you’d have to let me sleep on your shoulder the whole way there”

“Oh,” you pout at him jokingly, “you wouldn’t buy me a business class ticket?”

His fingertips creep up your waist and you giggle, thrashing against him when they tickle over your skin through the material of your dress.

“I’ll take that as a no then” You sigh dramatically, slumping back into his arms when his fingers relent.

“I’d buy you as many business class tickets as you want, Bambi”

Here we go again with the butterflies.

You settle back into a comfortable silence, Mason keeping his arms locked around you as he tries to switch his focus back to the TV, but it’s impossible when you’re cuddled up to him so closely.

There’s something about being in your presence that makes him feel so calm. There’s no need for him to fake anything, no need for him to worry. He can just be ‘Mase’ without any added expectations or anyone analysing his every move. You accept him for him, and he thanks his lucky stars everyday that your parents met all of those years ago because he’s really not sure what he’d do without you.

But tonight he’s nervous. He’s not sure what it is because these feelings for you are by no means new, but after he nearly slipped up and kissed you once earlier, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself if it happens again.

He wants you. Physically, emotionally, whatever you’re willing to give him, he’d take it, and tonight might just be the night that he does.

He doesn’t realise that he’s been staring at you until you tilt your head to look up at him, having felt the heat of his gaze.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He whispers, a soft smile sitting on his lips.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as they drop down to your lips, only for a millisecond before returning to your own and your heart rate quickens, a giddy feeling spreading through you.

“Maybe a few times” you tease, lips curling into a smile, “but you can tell me again”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, “You look gorgeous, always the prettiest girl in the room” He tells you, heart thudding in his chest as a shaky hand comes up to cup your jaw.

His nose bumps against yours as he leans closer. His lips are mere inches away, your heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure he can probably hear it.

When you show no signs of hesitation he closes the distance, touching his lips to yours in a tender kiss that you feel all the way from your head down to the tips of your toes.

You feel yourself melting into him as he works his lips over yours with ease, one of his hands cupping your cheek as the other gently pushes against your hip, encouraging you to roll onto your back and your arms wind around his shoulders as he moves to hover over you.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of his lips against yours after what feels like an eternity of waiting for this exact moment, your hand weaving into the short strands of hair on the back of his head to hold him to you.

He keeps it soft, your whole body tingling from how gentle he’s being with you as his lips move over yours with a certain tenderness that has you craving more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that” He breathes, forehead resting against yours when you separate to catch your breaths.

His heart flip-flops in his chest at the smile that paints your lips, unable to prevent his own as you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes.

“Then who am I to stop you from doing it again?”

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to close the distance again, but when he leans forward he brushes a kiss over your cheek instead, a whine leaving you as you try and chase his lips but he only pulls back further.

“I need to know that you definitely want this Y/N” he whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you, “I know I do, but I’ll never forgive myself if later on you realise that you don’t”

His voice sounds small, the confidence that he exuded earlier slowly fading away, and your heart aches as rest your head back into the pillows to look at him properly.

You slide your hand up from his shoulder, cradling his face in your palm and your heart soars when he leans into your touch.

“Mason, my whole life I’ve known it’s been you” You tell him, gently brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek and a soft smile finds his lips at your words. “I want this, I want you”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything” You whisper, watching as his features relax.

“I might have to change my mind if you don’t kiss me again though”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, not waiting another second before leaning back in.

It’s like someone has flipped a switch, all form of restraint gone as he claims your lips with a searing kiss that has your spine tingling. He coaxes your lips apart, easily slipping his tongue between them and he takes his time to explore your mouth, brushing his tongue over yours with slow, deliberate strokes.

His hand roams down your dress clad body, kneading into your skin through the satin like fabric and you arch your back into his touch, hands gripping onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to feel him closer. His warm palm slides over your hip, finding the bare skin of your thigh, exposed through the slit of your dress, and he hooks your leg over his waist.

You moan into his mouth as he presses his hips into yours, the sound going straight to his centre and his length twitches in the confines of his boxers.

“You definitely want to do this?” He asks between kisses, his lips leaving yours to move over your cheek and down to your jaw.

You nod, tilting your head back to allow him better access as he trails his kisses down your throat.

“I need your words, Y/N” he urges, pulling back to look at you.

“Yes Mason, please” You plead, just wanting to feel his lips on your skin again.

He doesn’t waste anymore time, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck and you shiver when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, his lips peppering kisses wherever he can reach and you whimper when finds your sweet spot, your sounds only encouraging him.

He sucks on the sensitive spot below your ear, teeth grazing over your skin before soothing the sting with his tongue and then he’s continuing his kisses down your body.

“As much as I love this dress on, I’d much rather it be off right now” he speaks when his kisses meet the neckline of your dress, the material obstructing his path and stopping him from going any further.

You attempt to reach behind you to undo the buttons that hold it together, but you can’t quite reach them, your position on the bed just leading to an awkward tangle of limbs. You huff out a breath, slumping back into the duvet as he watches you, clearly trying to hold himself back from laughing.

You send him an unimpressed glare, trying once more to reach behind but you only end up finding yourself in the same predicament as before.

“Help me” you pout, and he leans down to kiss it away, loosening his hold on your waist before getting off the bed.

“C’mon, jump up” He holds his hands out for you and you take them, letting him pull you up until you’re standing in front of him.

He moves you so that you’re stood with your back to his chest, his hands lightly brushing down your arms and you shiver under his touch, instinctively leaning back into his warmth.

“May I?” He asks softly, his breath tickling over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Y-yeah” you stutter, trying to steady your beating heart as he brushes your hair to one side.

He must notice the way you tense up as he reaches for the buttons, his lips pressing to your shoulder in an attempt to calm you.

“Relax sweetheart, it’s just me” he whispers, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.

But what if that’s the issue? It’s just him, just Mason. The man you’ve loved for years. You’re comfortable in your body, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he changes his mind? What if -

Your thoughts are cut off when he gently takes a hold of your waist, turning you around to face him and you’re met with his soft expression, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He whispers, trying to meet your gaze but you look down, eyes focussing on his chest as a wave of shyness washes over you.

“Hey, look at me” He says, keeping his voice gentle as he brings two fingers to lightly nudge your chin so that you look at him again.

“Sorry, I just…” you begin, and he’s patient with you when you stop to take a few deep breaths, “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s just- the last guy I was with like this wasn’t the nicest and he had a fair amount of things to say about my body and - god I’m so sorry” You quickly cut yourself off when you notice you’re rambling, cheeks flaming when you release what you’ve just admitted to him.

Mason feels his heart breaking more and more with every word that leaves your lips. He could never understand how anybody could be so cruel. He feels himself growing angry at the thought of anyone treating you that way and frustrated with himself for not being able to protect you from someone like that.

He knows deep down that there’s nothing he could’ve done to stop it, but you should’ve never had to go through that, and it pains him to know that someone hurt you so deeply.

He doesn’t let his feelings show though, instead making a promise to himself to never, ever, make you feel anything less than beautiful. You deserve so much more and he’s ready to show you just how perfect you are and treat you the way you deserve.

“Listen to me angel, you have nothing to apologise for okay?” his voice is firm, making sure you’re looking right at him before continuing.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. No one should’ve treated you that way. You deserve so much more baby. You are the most beautiful person I have ever set my eyes on Y/N, and I need you to know that I’d never treat you like that.” He tells you, cradling your cheeks in his palms as he rests his forehead against yours.

You nod as best as you can, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your smile as his words sink in.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight Y/N, if you don’t want to we can just watch another movie or something, I won’t be upset. All I want is for you to feel comfortable.”

Your nodding quickly turns into you shaking your head instead.

“No Mase, I want to do this. I want you.” You reassure him and he leans back slightly, leaving a lingering kiss to your forehead before lowering his hands to your waist again.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course” you tell him, gulping down the nervous lump in your throat and willing your heart rate to slow down.

“Okay, you still want me to take this off?”

His fingers fiddle with the thin straps of your dress as you nod, trying not to seem to eager. “Please”

“Turn around for me then angel”

You do just that, turning around so that your back is facing him again and his touch is gentle, barely there as he reaches up to brush your hair to the side once more. His lips find the nape of your neck, scattering kisses over your skin, and this time you don’t tense up as he reaches for the fabric.

He’s slow in releasing the buttons, his fingers skimming over your now exposed skin as he takes his time, undoing them one by one before finally reaching the last after what feels like a life time. His lips never leave your skin as his hands lift to brush the straps off of your shoulders, guiding the material down your body before dropping it to pool around your ankles.

Left in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties, it takes all of your strength to turn and face him. He takes you in, allowing his gaze to drift down your body and he feels himself twitch in the confines of his boxers. The sight of you bare in front of him makes his head spin, feeling overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch you.

“So fucking pretty” he murmurs, his words setting your body alight as his hand slays out on your waist.

There’s a bright look in his eyes as he draws you closer, guiding you to step out of your dress, and you forget why you were ever worried.

“Thank you for trusting me” he whispers against your temple, scattering featherlight kisses there as you lean further into his body.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he trails his kisses down your face, over your cheeks before landing on your lips.

You melt into him, his grip keeping you upright as you kiss him back with everything you have. Your hands creep up his back, one finding its way into his hair as the other clutches onto his shoulder. Nails dig into his skin through the material of his shirt but he doesn’t care, losing himself in the feeling of your lips on his.

Your fingers rake through his hair, tilting his head to get a better angle and his lips part on a gasp when your nails scratch over his scalp. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips, clashing with his own as you fight to take control.

It’s a little messy, but neither of you care, years of pent up feelings and frustrations being poured into the kiss until the burning desire to please him becomes too strong to ignore.

“You’ve still got way too many clothes on” you complain between kisses and he chuckles against your lips, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

“No, sit” you say, and he falls back onto the edge of the mattress with a gentle push of your hands against his shoulders.

He leans back, gazing up at you through his lashes, watching with dark eyes as you settle into his lap with a new found confidence.

You leave enough space between you to reach up and fiddle with his buttons, undoing them one by one as your lips scatter kisses over his jaw. His pulls you forwards by your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you continue to undress him.

You struggle a little due to how close you are, but you manage to get the last few buttons undone, working the shirt off his shoulders. It gets discarded behind you, joining your dress on the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

His shoulders flex as he leans back on his hands and you take him in, eyes dragging down his chest from the chain that dangles around his neck to the small tattoo that sits high on his ribs, there’s a light dusting of hair on his chest, his muscles softly toned.

You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, but sitting under you now he has you unable to think straight. You have never been so turned on just by looking at someone.

Your need to please him becomes stronger by the second, your mouth having a mind of its own as you trail your kisses down his neck, lighting sucking on his skin until you find his sweet spot. A breathy whine falls from his lips, his fingers digging into your hips a little tighter and that’s when you know you’ve found it, your lips closing over the most sensitive patch of skin.

Your lips graze over the area, licking and nipping as you make your way down to his collarbones, careful not to leave any marks where they may be visible.

He shivers, trembling under your touch as your hands slide down from his shoulders and over his chest, your lips following their path. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tease at the skin right next to his nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a sneaky mark before continuing down to his tummy, making sure to pay special attention to any moles or freckles that you find on your way.

Your legs feel like jelly as you climb off his lap and lower to your knees in front of him, hands pushing his thighs apart to allow you enough space to settle between them. The carpet is rough against your skin, but you can’t bring your self to care as you shuffle around to get more comfortable.

He isn’t without your touch long, his muscles fluttering under your fingers as you graze your lips over the soft ridges of his abs, placing open mouthed kisses along the waist band of his trousers until he grows impatient, his hands aimlessly reaching for his belt.

“Let me” you murmur, moving his hands back to rest by his sides before finding the buckle.

You’re slow in pulling it from the loops, taking your time as you drop it behind you and move to undo the button and zipper, dragging it down at an agonisingly slow pace before sitting back and allowing him to lift his hips. You drag the fabric down his legs along with his boxers, mouth watering as his already hard length springs free from the confines of the fabric.

“Much better,” you drawl, and he lets out a whimper as your lips kiss a path along the inside of his thigh, ignoring the area he needs you the most before moving to the other.

“Y/N, please do something” he pleads, but you don’t need to be told twice, his thighs jumping when a dainty hand wraps around the base of his cock.

He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you give him an experimental tug, glancing up through your lashes to see his eyes fluttering closed, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

“Feel good, Mase?” You coo, and his eyes pop open again, the sight of you on your knees between his legs making him feel light headed.

“S-so good” he stutters, hips raising to meet your hand as you twist it over him again before releasing him all together.

You run your fingertips over the underside of his length and he lets out a breathy moan of your name, the sound going straight to your core as you swirl your fingers over his tip and smear the drop of pre cum that’s collected there.

“Fuck, Y/N” he curses, struggling to keep his eyes open as you move your hand back to his base, holding him steady as you lower your head, lips wrapping around his tip.

You flick your tongue over his slit, humming as the salty taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and he drops back, resting on his elbows and watching as you take more of him.

You relax your jaw, moving further down his length and taking as much of him as you can whilst your hand works what you can’t fit in your mouth. The sinful sounds that leave his lips only spur you on, continuing to bob your head as you gaze up at him through your lashes.

“Oh my-, fucking hell” he pants, his hand reaching for the back of your head to gather your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. “You’re so good at that”

His eyes squeeze closed when you take him even further and you gag, eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat before pulling back to catch your breath.

Your hands keep up their movements, twisting and tugging until you take him into your mouth again and you let him guide you this time, hollowing your cheeks as he lowers your mouth down his length.

You brace your free hand against his thigh, letting him pick up the pace slightly as you work him towards his release.

“Gonna make me come, Y/N” he sighs, the feeling of your warm mouth around him sending him hurtling towards his orgasm.

“I’ve got you, Mase, come for me” you coo, and he fights to keep his hips still as you pay attention to his head again, tongue swirling over his tip.

One final flick of your tongue over his slit and he’s cuming into your mouth with a grunt, hand tightening in your hair as you work him through his high, swallowing every last drop. You only move away when his hips start bucking from the sensitivity, leaving one final kiss to his tip before sitting back on your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

After a few moments of comfortable silence he smiles down at you softly, reaching out for you and you take his hands, standing on shaky legs before lowering yourself back into his lap.

“You okay?” he asks and you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his tongue moving over yours and he hums when he tastes himself on your mouth.

His hands trail up your thighs until he finds your panties, hooking his fingers under the fabric, pulling them back before releasing them to snap against your skin.

“Lets get these off” He mumbles, helping you climb off his lap and you move to stand in front of him, shimmying the scrap of lace down your legs as he watches you with crazed eyes until you’re completely bare in front of him.

“Lay down for me” he requests and you do as he asks, sinking back into the duvet as you rest your head against the pillows.

You watch as he stands, walking around the bed to pick his wallet up from the pile of stuff he brought with him earlier and he pulls out a shiny foil packet before climbing back onto the bed.

“Not so fast, baby girl” he tuts as you reach for it, trying to take it from between his fingers, but he places it to the side instead.

“Lay back and let me love on you a little bit”

He moves to hover over you and his lips are on yours in an instant, staying there for just a moment before trailing his kisses over your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and nibbling on your delicate skin as he makes his way down your throat.

“Mase” The moan tumbles from your lips, nails scratching the skin on the back of his neck as you bring your hand up in a desperate attempt to move him lower.

“What do you want, Angel?” He coos, voice vibrating against your skin as he kisses over your collar bones.

“Y-you, please”

“Patience, baby. Let me take my time with you”

And take his time with you he does, his lips dragging over every inch of skin that he can reach as he learns and memorises all of your favourite spots, the ones that have you making those sweet little noises he’s loving so much.

He mouths over your chest, kissing from one side to the other before closing his lips over your nipple and your back arches to meet his mouth as he licks over the sensitive nub, his hand sliding up your body to pay attention to the other. He gropes at your skin, pinching and tugging at your nipple before switching sides to pay them equal attention.

His other hand stays steady on your waist as his lips continue south, keeping you pressed into the mattress when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, causing you to squirm against him.

“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” He asks, and you glance down at him, mind reeling as he gazes back at you through his lashes.

You nod vigorously, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slides his hands up the insides of your thighs, separating them enough to settle between them and his breath fans over your core as he inches closer.

“Fuck, look at you” he coos, teasing two fingers through your folds to collect your wetness and your brain short circuits when he takes them between his lips, humming as you coat his tastebuds.

“Taste incredible”

He uses the same two fingers to circle over your clit, waves of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can’t help the pathetic moan that falls from your lips, head dropping back against the pillows as he shuffles closer.

“Feel good, Angel?” He hums, his lips ghosting over the inside of your thigh.

“Yes Mase, fuck. More” you plead, and his mouth finally meets your centre, a barely there kiss being pressed to your clit before he licks a long stripe up your entrance.

His hands move to hold your hips down as he eats you out like you’re his last meal, no longer wanting to hold back and your moans only encourage him. He alternates between licking and sucking, sealing his lips around your little bundle of nerves before dropping to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose nudging against your clit which has you moaning uncontrollably, back arching to meet his mouth.

Your hands fly to the back of his head, needing something to hold onto, and he hums against you when you tug on his hair, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure that you’re feeling.

You’re unable to think straight, the feeling of his mouth against your core making you forget about everything other then him and how good he’s making you feel, and it’s not long until you feel your orgasm creeping up.

“Mase, oh fuck” you sigh, and when he brings a hand between you to slip a finger through your folds, you’re done for.

His other arm hooks under your thigh, holding you open for him as he slips his finger inside of you, pumping it a few times to stretch you out before adding another.

“I’m gonna cum, Mase, oh my god” you whine, and he doesn’t relent, pulsing his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem with them as he swirls it around your bundle of nerves.

“Let go for me, baby” he encourages, and you cum on his tongue as he suctions his lips around your clit, seeing stars as your orgasm hits you like a wave.

He works you through it, licking you clean until you’re tugging at his hair and he moves away, crawling back up your body.

You lay limp underneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as you catch your breath, feeling well and truly spent from the orgasm he just gave you. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, and your make up is slightly smudged, but he still swears that he’s never seen anyone more beautiful, his heart fluttering at the sight of you underneath him.

“So pretty” he murmurs, peppering kisses over your cheeks and the butterflies - the ones that have made a permanent home in your stomach - come back out in full force.

You flutter your eyes open and the twinkle that you find in his own has your insides turning to warm, bubbly liquid, his expression swimming with fondness.

“How are you feeling, baby?” He asks, shuffling slightly so that he can rest his weight against one elbow before trailing his free hand up your thigh, massaging your hips where he was gripping before.

“Good” you smile up at him, fingers toying with the chain that still sits around his neck, “More than good, actually. But there is one thing that would make me feel even better”

He raises an eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You gather as much strength as you can in your post orgasm daze, hooking your legs over his waist to pull his hips down into yours and his eyes widen, realising what you mean.

“Needy girl” he tuts, hissing when you grind your hips and his hard length grazes over your core, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Please Masey. Need to feel you”

“I know baby girl, I’ve got you. Just relax for me”

He gives you a quick yet tender kiss before reaching over to pick up the foil packet from earlier and you shiver as he tears it open, squirming in anticipation as he sits back on his feet and pulls out the condom to roll it down his length.

“You still want to do this?” He asks you for what seems like the tenth time that evening, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Mase, what kind of question is that?” You chuckle, hand coming to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch when you brush your thumb over his skin gently, “Of course I do”

“Just double checking, Angel” he rests his forehead against yours, nose nudging your cheek and your heart soars at the softness of the moment.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, Mase. Need you”

You wrap your arms around his shoulder as he settles on top of you, spreading your legs for him to rest between as he finds a position that’s comfortable.

He runs a gentle, comforting hand over the outside of your thigh, using the other to guide himself towards your entrance and you suck in a breath as he lines himself up, his tip nudging against your slit.

Your quick intake of breath has his eyes snapping up to yours, concern etched onto his features. “What wrong, baby?”

“Nothings wrong” you reassure him, one of your hands finding its rightful place tangled in his hair, “It’s just been a while, just go slowly please?”

“We’ll go at your pace, baby. Just tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, okay?”

“Okay”

You reach down, encouraging him to move with a slow twist of your hand over his length and his lips are back on yours when he lines himself up with your entrance, swallowing your moans as he pushes in until only his tip is buried inside of you.

He gives you a few moments to adjust, not liking how you wince from the slight stretch, but you only nod up at him, encouraging him to keep going and you moan in unison when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. So tight baby” he moans, his raspy voice right next to your ear.

“Let me know when I can move” his thumb brushes in tender circles over your hip, his other hand pressing into the mattress next to your head and you reach for it, unwinding one of your arms from around his shoulders to side your fingers through his.

Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him in a way that has pleasure shooting up his spine and he drops his head into the crook of his neck when you give him the go ahead to start moving.

He keeps his pace slow at first, gauging what you enjoy and what’s comfortable. A slow push and pull of his hips as you learn each others bodies.

“You feel incredible, Angel” he grunts, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips press into you with every thrust.

“Mason, fuck” You scratch your nails over his skin, back arching as he gives one particularly hard thrust that has his tip brushing over your sweet spot, “right there”

“There?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits it again, a desperate moan leaving your lips as he keeps pushing deeper.

“Y-yeah, faster Mase, p-please”

Your stuttered request is barely audible over the sound of your moans but he hears you just fine, picking up his pace as you wrap your legs around his waist and the new angle allows him to hit deeper, finding that sweet spot with every roll of his hips.

Every single thrust feels incredible, his fingers now digging into your waist to hold you steady. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard as he works you both towards your highs.

“Fuck, Mase, I’m nearly there” you pant, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm and the feeling of him everywhere sending you hurtling towards your realise sooner than you’d expected.

“I’m right behind you, baby” he groans, pulling his head out of your neck when you tug on his hair, wanting to see him when you cum.

He looks ethereal on top of you, the bridge of his nose flushed as well as his cheeks, his hair a mess and falling over his forehead as that chain dangles between you. You reach for it, using it to tug him down and his lips collide with yours in a heated kiss.

“Mason…” you sob, unable to take your eyes off of his when he rests his forehead against yours.

“I know baby, I’ve got you. Let go for me” he encourages, his thumb finding your clit and that’s all you need to go falling over the edge, walls contracting around him as your orgasm hits you.

A wave of white hot pleasure rolls through you, your entire body trembling against him as he works you through it.

He isn’t far behind, pressing his hips to yours as the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length sends him toppling over the edge with a moan of your name.

His thrusts grow sloppy, hips faltering as he thrusts through it, thumb continuing to brush over your clit until you’re pushing his hand away when you get too sensitive.

With one final thrust he goes limp on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, spent from his orgasm. Your hand finds the back of his head, lightly scratching over his scalp as you both take a moment to catch your breaths. Neither of you make any effort to move for a while, Mason staying buried inside of you whilst your heart beats return to a steady pace.

You wince from the sensitivity when he eventually moves to pull out of you slowly, the kisses that he litters over your forehead soothing you before he discards the condom and collapses onto the mattress beside you.

He reaches towards the end of the bed, pulling up the blanket and you don’t hesitate to shuffle into his arms when he opens them for you, settling against his side with your head resting against his chest as he holds you close.

He knows that he should get you cleaned up, but he can’t bring himself to move as you snuggle into him, one arm draped over his waist and a leg hooked over his thighs, so he lets you get comfortable against him, enjoying the warmth of your body pressed into his.

A couple of minuets pass and you stay in a comfortable silence, fiddling with his chain as you rest on his chest, growing more tired by the second as his fingers sooth over your skin. He wishes you could stay like that for the rest of the night, not wanting to disturb you, but when you start to grow heavy against him he knows he needs to get you up before you fall asleep completely.

“Come on” he hums, lightly tapping your shoulder to encourage you to move. “Got to get you cleaned up, bubba”

You don’t make any effort to move, quite content with staying in his arms and not leaving for the foreseeable future.

“I’m tired” You groan as he resorts to gently pushing you off of him, rolling off the bed completely before holding his hands out for you to take, but you bury your face into the pillows and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, missing his warmth immediately.

The bed dips under his weight as he kneels back onto the mattress, hands massaging into your shoulders before rolling you over to face him.

You pout up at him, shaking your head in protest. You know you’ll regret it in the morning if you go straight to sleep without properly getting ready for bed, but nothing sounds better than climbing back under the sheets with him and falling asleep.

“I know, but the quicker we get in that shower the quicker we can get back into bed” he tells you softly, fingers brushing your hair out of your face as you gaze up at him sleepily. “Let me take care of you, bubs”

His gentle smile and sweet words are enough to have you crumbling, holding your arms out for him and he doesn’t need to ask to understand what you want.

He effortlessly scoops you up, a kiss being pressed to your temple as he cradles you in his arms and carries you through to the en-suite bathroom, careful to avoid the clothes that are still scattered around the floor.

He switches the bathroom lights on, keeping them on the dim setting when he notices you squinting from the brightness and moves to set you down on the counter.

Reaching to the side, he picks up your make up bag, looking through it to find some of your makeup wipes before taking one out of the packet. You try and take it from him but he swats your hand away, tilting your chin up with his fingers before bringing the wipe to your cheek.

Your heart flutters at how gentle he’s being with you as he takes his time, swiping the wipe over your skin as he makes sure to get every last bit of makeup. His little focused face makes you giggle, his tongue popping out from between his lips as he concentrates, being extra careful when he gets to your eyes.

He presses a tender kiss to your lips once he’s finished, throwing the wipe into the bin before turning around to get the shower started and your mouth dries at the sight of his back when he faces away from you.

Red scratches decorate his skin, some travelling as high as his neck and you watch as his back flexes when he reaches for the taps to set the water temperature. You feel yourself heat from head to toe at the sight, struggling to keep your composure when he turns to face you again, instantly noticing your flushed cheeks.

“What’s up, bubba?” He asks, hands coming to rest on your hips as he moves to stand between your spread legs.

“I don’t think you should let anyone else see you shirtless for a couple of days” You tell him, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a giggle.

“Why? What did you do?”

He moves away from you to look at his reflection in the mirror, eye brows furrowing when he doesn’t find any hickeys or marks like he had expected to.

He looks back to you confused, but you wiggle your finger in a circle, telling him to turn around. He does, looking back at his reflection over his shoulder and you can see the moment he realises, his jaw dropping slightly as he takes in the scratches and marks left by your nails.

“You really didn’t hold back did you?”

“Sorry”

“Don’t be. Just means that I made you feel good” he says with confidence, winking at you with a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

You swat at his chest, not needing to admit that he’s right because you both already know the answer.

He holds a hand out for you, helping you off the counter and steadying you when you stand on wobbly legs, your body aching in the best way possible as he guides you towards the shower.

He steps in behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and your body slumps into his, face finding a home in the crook of his neck as the water cascades over you.

“You okay?” He mumbles right next to your ear and you nod in response, letting out a content sigh as you nuzzle into his skin.

You stay like that for a while, the water soothing your aching bodies before he reaches over and takes your travel sized shampoo from the little shelf behind you. He squeezes a generous amount into his palm, lathering it up before bringing his hands to your hair and you hold onto his waist, needing something to steady yourself as the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp sends you into a state of complete bliss.

He rinses it out after a couple of minuets - still way too soon for your liking - and repeats the process with your conditioner, letting you do the same thing for him.

As soon as you’re both washed off he gets out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before taking another and holding it out for you. Getting out behind him, you step into the towel, letting him wrap it around your shoulders.

You both get dried off, changing into the fluffy hotel robes before he moves to leave the bathroom, wanting to give you some privacy to finish up your nighttime routine, but you take a hold of his hand, not wanting him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, bubs” he reassures, noticing a faint look of panic on your features. He slides his fingers between yours, giving them a tight squeeze, “I’m just going to tidy the clothes up and grab you something to sleep in okay? I’ll be back in a few minuets”

“Okay, sorry” you mumble, loosening your grip on his hand, feeling silly for getting so paranoid all of a sudden. “I just don’t want you to leave”

His expression softens. “I’m not leaving, Bambi. I promise. Could never leave you”

He presses a series of kisses to your face, one to your forehead, one to your cheek, one of your nose - that one has you giggling - and finally one to your lips, making sure that you’re smiling again when he disappears into the bedroom.

You busy yourself with drying your hair whilst he picks up your abandoned clothes, placing them into a neater pile next to your suitcase so that they can be dealt with in the morning.

He grabs the spare blanket from the wardrobe and puts it on the bed, switching the main lights off so that only the beside lamp is left on before changing into his clean pair of boxers and finding his toothbrush and the t-shirt that he brought with him earlier.

You’re just turning the hair dryer off when he comes back into the bathroom, brushing through your hair as he places his toothbrush next to yours on the counter. The sight of them next to each other has your heart flip-flopping in your chest, the action oddly domestic.

The multiple bottles and pots of skin care products that you have laid out catch his attention when he comes to stand beside you and he picks one up, reading over the bottle curiously.

“What’s all this?”

“You don’t know?” You meet his eyes through the reflection, surprised when he shakes his head in response. But his skin is always so clear?

“Can you show me?” He asks timidly, watching as you nod before jumping up onto the counter again.

You spread your legs, pulling him to step between them and his hands rest against your thighs as you pick up the first bottle, squeezing some of the serum onto your fingers before massaging it into his face. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation of you working the products into his skin, tracing the contours of his face as you tell him what each product is and explain what it’s used for.

He listens to your every word, loving how passionate you seem about it and making a mental note to ask you what they are again in the morning, so that he can buy some of the products for himself and keep some at his house for when you stay over.

You finish up with one of your favourite moisturisers before running through the same routine on yourself, letting Mason help when he insists and enjoying the feeling of being pampered by him.

“Thank you” you mumble, leaning forward to brush your lips over his in a soft kiss and he reciprocates, stepping back to allow you to jump off the counter when you pull away.

“Here, put this on” he says, handing you the t-shirt that he brought in, and you happily change into it, his scent lingering on the fabric and filling your senses as the material falls to your upper thigh.

The sight of you in his clothes is one he wants to see for the rest of his life.

You stand side by side at the sink and brush your teeth together, pulling faces at each other through the mirror as you do before following him back through to the bedroom.

You climb into bed first, getting comfortable under the duvet as he plugs his phone in to charge, begrudgingly setting an alarm for the morning. You both know it’ll be a struggle to wake up, but your flight back up to Manchester leaves at 10am, and you still need to make it to the airport before then.

But that’s a problem for the morning. All you’re concerned about now is holding him.

He settles under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your open arms and sliding you closer with an arm hooked over your waist. Your legs tangle together, bodies pressed close as he snuggles into you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck.

He sighs contentedly, melting into you as you rest a hand on his arm and trace the outlines of his tattoos with your fingertips, his own sneaking under your (his) t-shirt to draw random patterns onto the soft skin of your tummy.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in weeks. The feeling of being in your arms bringing him a sense of comfort that he never thought possible, but he knows you still have something to talk about, and he’s about to bring it up when you beat him to it.

“What does this mean?” You whisper, the question that’s been on your mind for the past half an hour finally slipping through your lips as you raise your free hand and brush your fingers through his hair.

“It means I’m yours Y/N” he mumbles into your skin before pulling his head from your neck. He shuffles up your body slightly, moving so that he’s hovering above you. “If you’ll have me”

Your hand moves from his hair to instead cup his jaw, your fingertips lightly scratching through his beard as you gently pull him down to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“I like you, like a lot” you tell him when you separate, but you keep him close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders

“I’m way beyond like, baby” He admits, a soft smile tugging at his lips and he knows it’s soon, but his heart feels like it’s bursting, and he can’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Y/N, I have been for a long time”

He watches you carefully, waiting for any kind of reaction, and he’s a little worried when you don’t have one, your face staying neutral as his words sink in.

But then comes the smile, your lips tilting up as a look of complete and utter joy paints your features.

You’re overwhelmed by different emotions, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re smiling and you can’t help but lean up and press your lips to his again, stealing his breath away with a searing kiss.

The taste of your minty toothpaste still lingers on his tongue when he pushes it through the seem of your lips, working it against yours in slow, languid strokes as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, his fingers gently tilting your head back and your hand slides around to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair.

Your chest is heaving when you eventually pull back, looking up up at him through your lashes as you catch your breath. His lips are swollen, cheeks flushed and his damp hair messy from you running your fingers through it.

“You don’t have to say it back, I know you might not feel the same but I-“

“Mason, are you kidding me?” You cut him off, cupping his face in both of your palms. “I’m so in love with you”

A breath of relief leaves his parted lips upon hearing your words, his heart rate settling as you look up at him with twinkling eyes.

“I always have been, Mase. You mean absolutely everything to me”

“Yeah?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding up at him with complete certainty.

“Mason you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never felt this way before and I know that I won’t feel it for anyone other than you. You’re it for me”

His eyes shine with emotion, his jaw aching from how hard he’s smiling. He feels like he’s floating, your words putting him on cloud nine.

“I love everything about you, Y/N. You’re so fucking beautiful, but it’s not just that. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re funny, you make me feel wanted in a way I’ve never experienced before, I’ve waited my whole life for this and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours Masey”

You lean up, pressing your lips to his in one final kiss and when he rolls off of you, you move with him. He lays back against the mattress, arms opening wide for you to climb into and you settle against his chest as he adjusts the duvet over you.

“When we get home I’m taking you on a date” he tells you, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “I know you’re already mine, but I want to do this properly, and that includes you letting me spoil you”

Mine. You want to hear it over and over.

“Can I choose the restaurant?” You query, already making a mental list of places that you could go.

“Only if you let me choose the movie when we get back to mine after”

“Who said that I’ll be going back to yours?”

“Just because it’s our ‘first’ -” he lifts his hand, making air quotes, “ - date that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the gentlemanly thing and drop you home with a kiss to your cheek after”

“Looks like you’re picking the movie then” You pat his chest, giggling as he mumbles a quiet ‘good’ and you settle back onto his arms with a yawn.

He leans over to turn the lamp off, the room overcome with complete darkness as he pulls the blankets up to your chin.

“Get some sleep, bubba. Early start tomorrow” He whispers with a kiss to your forehead and you groan into his chest.

“Don’t remind me. Can’t we just stay here forever?”

That really does sound like the best idea ever. Here. As in the little bubble that you’ve built together in this hotel room. You’re not ready for it to pop.

“I wish we could Bambi, but I want to get home and take you on that date”

“I wonder what Lewis will say” you murmur.

Your families have been rooting you you both to get together for years, so you know he’ll be happy for you, but telling him as well as the rest of your families somehow seems really scary.

“Well, I was thinking-“

“Oh no” you cut him off, and he chuckles, chest rumbling under your cheek.

“How about we keep this to ourselves for a bit?” He suggests, fingers sliding between yours where they lay against his chest. “No one needs to know just yet, we’ll just take it slow and tell them when we’re ready”

“I like the sound of that. Just me and you for a little while”

“Exactly” he sighs, already looking forward to getting you home and exploring this new dynamic with you.

He feels whole as he glances down at you through the darkness, a wide smile painting his lips and he doesn’t think it’ll be leaving any time soon. He’s spent what feels like a life time waiting for this, waiting for his person, waiting for you. He’s not sure he’s ever been happier than he feels in this moment, all of his worries forgotten about as you lay in his arms.

He can just about manage to make out your features and his heart is bursting at the seams with love for you as he leans down to press another kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Bambi”

“Night, Mase. Love you”

———————

a/n: If you have made it this far I just want to say a massive THANK YOU! I really do hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻 Feedback is appreciated as always 🤍

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount concepts #mason concepts

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authortelevision · 3 months ago

Text

george, the hockey player: chapter one ₊˚⊹♡

words: 2,747 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆ george clarke slow burn, university au, hockey george

you start university in bristol as a film student and meet a hockey player who will change your life completely

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The train ride to Bristol had been a mix of nervous excitement and mild existential dread. The city, with its hilly streets and graffiti-covered underpasses, felt like a place where something big could happen. But right now, all that mattered was getting through move-in day without looking like a complete disaster.

You haul your suitcase up the stairs of your new flat, already regretting bringing so many decorations. The shared kitchen is a mess of half-opened suitcases, stacked IKEA crockery, and the awkward small talk of strangers who will, apparently, be your new best friends.

A girl with pink-streaked hair and round glasses glances up from where she’s struggling to assemble a drying rack. “Oh, thank God. Someone else who looks just as lost as I feel.”

You laugh, setting your bags down. “Completely lost. Do you need help with that?”

“Please. It’s like IKEA’s playing a cruel joke on me.” She grins. “I’m Lily, by the way. I do history, unfortunately.”

You introduce yourself just as the front door swings open and two more people walk in, dragging boxes. One of them, a guy with messy brown hair, lets out an exaggerated sigh. “This is it. Our prison for the next year.”

“I hope not.” says a voice from behind him.

The four of you quickly exchange introductions, and you learn that the negative voice is Matt who is studying Economics, and the other is Sam, taking Biology. Within ten minutes, you’re all gathered in the kitchen, swapping stories about where you’re from and who packed the weirdest thing (Matt wins with his five-kilo bag of protein powder). It’s surprisingly easy, the awkwardness fading fast.

Then, Lily claps her hands together. “Okay, so Freshers’ Fair is happening today. We need to go.”

Sam frowns. “That’s the one where all the societies try to recruit you, right?”

“Exactly. It’s essential. Free stuff, maybe a few weird clubs, and we can all pretend we’re super well-rounded people.”

You weren’t sure if you had the energy after lugging all your stuff around, but the idea of seeing what Bristol Uni had to offer was tempting. Plus, it beat sitting in your empty room.

“Alright,” you say, standing up. “Let’s go get bombarded by enthusiastic second-years.”

————

The Student Union building is packed, a sea of students weaving between booths with banners ranging from “Join the Debate Society” to “Quidditch Team Tryouts This Weekend!” Every few steps, someone shoves a flyer into your hands, promising everything from cheap cocktails to life-changing friendships.

Lily gets dragged away almost immediately by a group advertising a Feminist Reading Club. Sam disappears in the direction of the Rugby stall, while Matt, despite his initial complaints, is deep in conversation with a Chess Society rep.

That leaves you wandering alone for a bit, taking it all in. The Hockey Society booth catches your eye, but only cause there’s a crowd gathered around it, and a bunch of sporty-looking guys are chatting with possible members. You consider stopping, but hockey isn’t really your thing.

Instead, you find yourself drawn to a quieter stall tucked between the Art Society and the Drama Club. A banner reads “Photography Society – Capture the Moment”, and a student with a camera slung around their neck waves at you.

“Hey! You interested in photography?”

“I mean… kinda?” You glance at the sign-up sheet. “I do film, so I guess I already mess around with cameras.”

The student grins. “That’s basically half of it. We do sports photography, exhibitions, and the occasional trip. No pressure, though.”

It sounds like exactly the kind of thing to make friends you need. Before you can overthink it, you pick up a pen and sign your name.

By the time you regroup with your flatmates, your bag is full of leaflets and your group decides to escape the chaos and grab something to eat. The campus cafés are packed, so you settle for the Student Union bar, where the tables are sticky, the nachos are cheap, and the music is just a little too loud for a casual conversation.

Matt dumps his bag of free society merch onto the table with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

He pulls out a ridiculous amount of random freebies like stress balls, lanyards, a frisbee, and even a reusable coffee cup with Bristol Uni Quidditch Team printed on the side. Sam snorts. “Did you even sign up for Quidditch?”

“No, but they were giving out free stuff, and I’m not an idiot.”

Lily rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She turns to you, seeing your tote bag. “So, what made you go for Photography Society?”

You take a sip of your drink, considering. “I think I just wanted something creative that wasn’t coursework, you know? Something fun, no pressure.”

She nods. “Good call. I was considering the Creative Writing Society, but then I overheard a guy saying they only discuss ‘serious literary work,’ and I feel like I’d get kicked out for writing fanfiction.”

“That sounds insufferable,” you say with a laugh.

“What about you, Sam?” Matt asks. “You looked way too invested in that rugby stall for someone who claimed they definitely weren’t joining a sports team.

Sam shrugs, looking vaguely guilty. “Okay, maybe I’ll go to tryouts. I haven’t played since school, but it might be fun.”

“You just want an excuse to go to the sports socials,” Lily teases.

He smirks. “And what if I do?”

The conversation drifts into plans for the rest of Freshers’ Week—pub crawls, club nights, and the dreaded 9am introductory lectures no one is ready for. It’s strange how quickly everything is falling into place, like the awkwardness of earlier has already faded into something more natural.

Eventually, you all decide to head back to the flat, the evening air crisp as you make your way across campus. Bristol feels alive at night, students spilling out of bars, the hum of conversation echoing down cobbled streets. The streetlights cast long shadows, and for a brief moment, you pause to take it all in.

Lily nudges you. “You alright?”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah. I think I am.”

————

The next morning, you wake to the sound of footsteps in the hallway and the faint clatter of someone making something in the kitchen. For a few seconds, you forget where you are, then the unfamiliar ceiling and the plain white walls bring you back to reality. Your new life at university has officially begun.

After forcing yourself out of bed, you shuffle into the kitchen, where Lily is perched on the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie, her pink-streaked hair all over the place. “Morning,” she says between bites.

“Morning,” you mumble, grabbing a mug and searching for the kettle.

Matt wanders in next, still in his pajamas. He blinks at you both. “We should’ve made a pact never to speak before noon.”

Lily laughs. “Good luck with that. We’ve all got a welcome meeting at ten, I’m not sure where yours is but mine is in the Oliver building.”

Right. The dreaded introductory stuff. You groan internally but force yourself to stay optimistic. First years always say it’s useless, but there could always be something important about the university you wouldn’t know about.

After breakfast, you grab your bag and head out with Lily, who insists on walking with you even though the history department is in a completely different building. “Moral support,” she says dramatically as you weave through the crowds of students trying to find their way around.

The film department is tucked inside a modern glass building that looks sleek and intimidating. Inside, the lecture hall is already filling up, the hum of conversation blending with the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. You slide into a seat near the middle and pull out your laptop, trying not to look as awkward as you feel.

A few minutes later, a girl with short curly hair and a nose ring drops into the seat next to you. “Hey, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m Ava,” she says, setting her laptop down. “Film Studies?”

You nod. “Yeah, first year.”

“Same! What kind of films are you into?”

That kicks off an easy conversation, by the time the lecturer finally arrives and starts their speech about “the power of storytelling in visual media,” you and Ava have already bonded over your mutual love of indie films and your shared distaste for pretentious film bros who only talk about Pulp Fiction.

The lecture itself is mostly introductions—professors explaining what to expect, a few awkward icebreakers with the people sitting nearby, and a long-winded speech about academic integrity. By the time it’s over, your brain is buzzing, and you’re more than ready to escape.

“Wanna grab coffee?” Ava asks as you head out of the building.

“Definitely.”

The two of you make your way to the campus café, where you spot Sam and Matt sitting by the window, deep in conversation. When they see you, Sam waves you over.

“How was your lecture?” Matt asks as you slide into the seat across from him.

“Long.” You take a sip of your coffee. “What about you?”

“Boring. I already regret choosing Economics.”

Ava laughs. “Wow, you’re all so motivated.”

“Oh! This is Ava, by the way, we both do film studies.”

As the conversation continues, it starts to hit you, this is your new life. New friends, new routines, new experiences waiting just around the corner.

————

By the time the sun sets, the nerves of the first day have been replaced with something else entirely: anticipation, excitement, and the lingering feeling from the vodka shots you definitely shouldn’t have taken so quickly.

Your flat has changed into pre-drinks. The tiny kitchen table is covered in half-empty bottles, discarded mixers, and the remnants of an intense game of Ring of Fire. Someone’s put on a ridiculous throwback playlist, and now everyone is shouting the words to Mr. Brightside like it’s a national anthem.

You’re sat on the counter, legs swinging, cradling a drink you don’t need but don’t want to put down. “Okay,” you announce to no one in particular, “I think I might be a tiny bit drunk.”

Lily cackles from where she’s trying to apply eyeliner on a very uncooperative Matt. “No shit. You’ve been swaying for, like, ten minutes.”

You blink, realizing that the floor does seem to be moving slightly. “That’s just because I’m—” You wave your hand in the air, trying to find a reason. “—graceful.”

Sam laughs, throwing an arm around you dramatically. “You’re gone.”

But the night is young, and there’s only one destination in mind—Lola Lo’s. Everyone has been hyping it up since you arrived, promising neon lights, questionable cocktails, and the kind of night you’ll only half remember.

After one final shot (a terrible idea in hindsight), you all spill onto the street, voices loud and laughter echoing down the road. The walk to the club is only fifteen minutes, but your brain seems to have abandoned all sense of coordination.

Somewhere along the way, you trip over nothing and stumble into Lily. “Okay,” she says, catching you, “I think we need a pause.”

You find yourself plopping down onto the curb, the cold pavement grounding you slightly. Sam sits next to you, amused. “You know they’re not gonna let you in like this, right?”

You groan, resting your head on his shoulder dramatically. “I know.”

Matt crouches in front of you, squinting like a concerned doctor. “Alright, what’s the game plan? We can’t have you getting turned away at the door.”

Lily laughs. “We could walk in first and pretend we don’t know them.”

You gasp, offended. “Betrayal.”

Ava, who has been quiet up until now, holds up a bottle of water she somehow smuggled out of the flat. “Here, drink this. Try to look less… like this.” She gestures vaguely at you, which is fair.

You take a sip then make a face. “This isn’t gonna work in time.”

Matt nudges your shoulder. “Alright, let’s problem-solve. How do we make you look sober?”

“Serious face,” you declare, straightening up and attempting your most responsible expression. It lasts about three seconds before Sam bursts out laughing.

Lily wipes away fake tears. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna fool the bouncers.”

You groan, dramatically falling back onto the pavement. “Okay, new plan. I’ll just live here now. The curb is my home.”

Ava rolls her eyes but helps you up anyway. “Nope. We’re getting in that club. You’re gonna drink water, act normal, and stop being a liability.”

You let them half-drag, half-walk you down the street, still giggling. Maybe you won’t get into the club. Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow with no recollection of this conversation.

Somehow—somehow—you make it past the bouncers.

Lily had given you a very serious pep talk before you reached the front of the queue: “No swaying. No giggling. And for God’s sake, don’t say anything stupid.” You had nodded along, doing your absolute best to channel the energy of someone who had only had one sensible drink and definitely wasn’t clinging to Sam for balance.

Miraculously, the bouncers barely look at you before waving you inside, and suddenly, you’re in.

Lola Lo’s is everything people hyped it up to be, neon lights glow under bamboo decor, the music vibrates in your chest, and the air smells like a mix of fruity cocktails, sweat, and regret. Your flatmates disappear into the crowd, leaving you standing in the middle of the dance floor, still slightly overwhelmed.

But there’s one thing you do know, you need another drink.

Stumbling your way to the bar, you lean against the counter, blinking up at the bartender like focusing really hard will make you seem more sober. “Can I get a—” You pause. What did you want? A cocktail? A vodka and coke? You squint at the menu, as if the words will rearrange themselves into the perfect choice.

Eventually, you just blurt out, “A rum and coke, please,” and slap some cash onto the bar, feeling very responsible.

The bartender hands you your drink, and you turn around. Too fast.

Because the next thing you know, your arm collides with someone, and suddenly, your entire very full drink sloshes forward, spilling straight onto them.

“Oh shit—”

The guy flinches, looking down at his now-soaked shirt. “Oh, for fu—” He cuts himself off, exhaling sharply before looking up at you.

And that’s when you see him properly.

Tall, messy brown hair, sharp features softened by the kind of face that probably gets away with way too much just by smiling. But right now, he’s not smiling, he’s staring at you, stunned, as cold rum and coke drips down his front.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hands flying to your mouth. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine—”

“No, no, it’s not fine!” You grab a handful of napkins from the bar and start patting at his chest, which is definitely not helping, because now you’re basically rubbing the mess into his already ruined shirt. “I didn’t mean to—oh my God, I’m such an idiot—”

He lets out a breathy laugh, finally grabbing your wrist gently to stop your attempts at fixing the situation. “Hey—hey, it’s fine. Seriously.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly, your brain catches up with what’s happening. You just spilled an entire drink on a very attractive guy and are now borderline manhandling him in a drunken panic.

This is not how the night was supposed to go.

“I’ll buy you a new drink,” you blurt out.

He smirks. “What, for me or for you?”

You open your mouth, then shut it. That was a fair question.

Before you can respond, Lily appears out of nowhere, looking between the two of you with sharp amusement. “What the hell did I miss?”

The guy chuckles, shaking his head. “Your friend just redecorated my shirt.”

Lily glances at you, then at the napkins still clutched in your hand. Then she grins. “Oh, this is fantastic.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Kill me now.”

But when you peek up, the guy is still looking at you, not annoyed, not pissed off, but amused. Like this is the most entertaining thing that’s happened to him all night.

“I’m George” he says, still smiling.

George. You’ll keep that in mind.

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author notes:

hello everyone !! sorry i’ve been gone for so long !! i’ve been very busy with uni life and have kind of abandoned this account !! but i’m back and i’ve decided to bring my uni life into this new slow burn i have !!

I KNOW THAT GEORGE DIDNT GO TO BRISTOL BUT I DIDNT KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT HIS UNI TO WRITE ABOUT THAT ONE !!

much love x

#george clarkey #george clarke #italianbach #arthur hill #chrismd #arthur tv #georgeclarkey #george clarke fics #university

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