#and also apparently most people like hotel beds

[gaphic]

currently in the process of trying to buy a new mattress and i have to say. so far. it's been a real thrill ride

absolutely no idea what's going on but i am significantly poorer now so hopefully that's a good sign

[artificial-transmutations]

The wedding getaway

A mile in each other's shoes

"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."

Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.

"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."

Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.

"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."

Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.

"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"

In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.

"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"

"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"

Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?

"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."

With a flip of her hair, she walked away.

Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.

It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...

The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.

Black.

There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.

"Lance."

Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"

He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.

"Yes."

Jamal spat the word.

"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"

Lance gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"

Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.

The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.

"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"

Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.

"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."

A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.

"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."

These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.

Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.

The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.

When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.

With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.

Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.

That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?

The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.

Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.

"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.

No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.

Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.

Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.

With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.

Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.

Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!

However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.

Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.

He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...

This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.

"Ahh, fuck, yes..."

He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.

Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"

"Uhh, no. I was... not."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"

Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.

Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.

And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.

And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.

Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?

No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.

Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.

After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.

Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.

Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.

For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?

In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.

A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.

Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!

Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.

Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.

Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.

The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.

He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.

The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.

Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.

"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."

"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.

Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.

Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.

However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.

Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.

Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.

He was.

As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.

What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.

If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!

[fkinavocado]

Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Pretty like yours: Part Two (word count: 8.5k)

Harry was avoiding you.

At first you thought you were imagining things, but as the evening progressed, you realised he really was avoiding you. 

You didn’t know how you’d ended up here, though.

Back at the hotel on that weekend beach trip, you’d heard your (very loud) group of friends coming back from dinner and you both scurried to put some clothes on and unlock the door, just in time for Mitch to open said door to the room he was sharing with Harry and for a few more of your friends to make themselves right at home on the bed that you’d just had sex on.

And that was some pretty amazing sex. Amazing enough that you were expecting a repeat, but not only did that not happen, nothing else happened either. You were leaving the next day, and, although there really hadn’t been a moment where the two of you could talk it out, he never reached out when you got back home.

You were expecting a call, a text, anything to at least acknowledge that he’d also had a great time in your company. 

Instead,… radio silence.

For the first few days you just kept finding excuses for him. Maybe he was feeling confused, after all- he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship. Maybe he still loved Marissa. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Hell, maybe he regretted it completely. 

But… you were friends, first and foremost. And you’d slept together, which, even in your books as someone who enjoyed casual sex, still meant something, something worth acknowledging!

As days went on it was becoming more and more apparent that Harry had just had a bit of fun with you, and he wasn’t even planning on a repeat based on how he was acting like it never happened. You blamed yourself for making your promiscuous ways known amongst your group. You’d never thought of it in that light before, because you’d never been hurt in the process before. If you ever hooked up with someone it was clear from the get go that was all it was ever going to be. But now, the fact that Harry had assumed that’s all you wanted and nothing more… when it definitely wasn’t the case, well, it didn’t sit well with you at all.

But you’d have never expected him to completely ignore you once you all hung out again, least of all at your friends’ wedding. This was downright rude, and it was making you feel pretty shitty. You’d looked forward to it, knowing he’d be there, even gotten all dolled up looking your very best. You’d been more than ready to finally talk it out with him and maybe, hopefully, figure out what was going on. Part of you still refused to believe he just didn’t give a fuck.

But looking at him now, you tended to believe it.

Harry was keeping himself busy at all times, talking to seemingly everyone else. Dancing with girls that weren’t you. Laughing with your friends and people you didn’t even know. Hell, he was having a grand ol’ time, never once even glancing your way.

For the first half of the day, you just wallowed in your disappointment. You’d never have pegged Harry for the fuckboy that would operate a hit and run, but… at the end of the day, you two really weren’t that close to know for sure. 

But since this was a wedding you were both attending, your friends’ wedding, you couldn’t really sulk for the entirety of it. So for the party you tried your best to put on a brave act and pretend like you were having a good time. Even flirt a bit, preferably in his vicinity.

Because if there was one thing for certain, that was Harry’s attraction for you. He couldn’t have faked that. And since he was proving that boys will be boys, this would probably not sit well with him either.

The guy you were currently dancing with on the same dancefloor Harry was dancing with some (albeit very pretty) girl was getting a bit too handsy for your liking, and normally you’d have set some boundaries and maybe even stopped dancing with him altogether- that is if you weren’t noticing Harry scowling all of a sudden. You still never caught him looking your way, but he was visibly upset, and judging by the sweet smile on his partner’s face, it wasn’t because of her. 

The way this guy was downright groping you was making you feel even worse, though. Reaffirming somehow what had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks since the beach trip- that you were seen as  an easy girl and that you’d been foolish to think Harry would even assume otherwise based on everything he knew about you directly from the source. And after getting cheated on, the last thing he needed was someone who he thought was putting out for everyone as easily as you had with him. Even telling him you’d had a huge crush on him for the longest time, he still must’ve had his mind made up about you, and you were just someone he knew he could have some fun with, no strings attached.

But for the purpose of making Harry jealous, you allowed this guy to get a little too close. You didn’t even know his name and he was trying to kiss you, his hands dangerously close to your bum. 

You kept dodging his attempts but still flirted with him, which only spurred him on. And chancing some glances Harry’s way, you told yourself it was worth it. Especially when you finally caught him staring your way, and he didn’t even bother pretending like he hadn’t been.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to say something to the girl he was dancing with without breaking eye contact with you, then leaving her in the middle of the dancefloor, approaching you in quick, long strides. 

“Sorry mate, need to borrow Y/N for a quick minute.”

And just like that you found yourself being ushered away, Harry’s hand on the small of your back urging you forward at a steady pace.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally spat as soon as you turned a corner a bit further away from the heart of the party.

You’d never seen Harry like this. He was usually just this easy going guy, almost took things in stride, you’d never seen him get into a heated argument with someone. His tone and body language were therefore taking you aback. Sure, you’d expected a reaction out of him- actually, hoped for one, the moment you decided you’d start openly flirting with other guys there right in front of him, but this was surprising.

“Doing what?”

He took a step closer towards you, making you step back and into the wall behind. You weren’t scared of him, not in the least, if anything his pained expression overshadowed his frown lines. “It’s bad enough that you… you, you used me… but this?! Why must you rub it in my face like this?”

“...Used you?!”

Harry scoffed, taking in your confused expression. “Yeah. Used. Took advantage of. Discarded me like it meant nothing the second Mitch and the others came back from dinner. I know you’re fine to  just… hook up with people, but you never even so much as looked my way again that whole night! Like I was some sort of dirty secret you had to keep away from the group. Like I was… fucking worthless…”

“Harry…”

“And then you never gave me a sign afterwards, confirming that indeed, you’d just had your fun and it meant nothing–”

“Excuse me?! Harry, you never gave a sign afterwards either!”

“I tried seeking you out that very night, tried catching your eye, I wanted to talk about it, see where we stood, but when you never so much as looked my way once– not even once! I just figured… if I was wrong, then surely you’d say something but then the next day you were already gone before I even came down for breakfast!”

“Yeah– I had to leave early ‘cause I had to go into work that afternoon to make up for Friday… God, Harry! Way to jump to conclusions! I didn’t want the rest to know, because it’s none of their business, not because it was a secret. We hadn’t had the chance to talk about it so I didn’t know how to handle it, and I just got extra paranoid, I guess, in trying to not seem suspicious. Like, I was mortified when they nearly walked in on us, and our hair was all over the place, your braids had gotten undone, the bed was a mess, I’m sure the room reeked of sex, and I just felt like everybody knew! And I guess I just avoided looking at you altogether to try and save face… I didn’t even realise I was doing it, honestly. They never brought it up, though, so… I guess I was just being paranoid for nothing.”

Harry hung his head shaking it in disbelief then turned away from you, pacing a few steps then turning back to you. “You know, you could at least be honest with me now. Just tell me, give it to me straight. I can take it. Just tell me I wasn’t good enough–”

“What? Harry–”

“I mean, clearly there must be something wrong with me, right? Since my ex cheated and you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Clearly it’s me.”

You pushed yourself off the wall “Harry, stop this! What the fuck are you on about! I swear that was it, I was just paranoid they all knew we’d just fucked, and then I had to leave first thing the next morning but I waited for you to call! Alright?! I waited! You just ghosted me! Like… why was I the one that should’ve reached out, first of all, and secondly- I thought you just needed some space. Time to process what had happened! You’re clearly hurting, and you’re clearly not over Marissa, and you might still love her for all I know and maybe you regretted it! Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing that you regretted and just wanted to forget, maybe it’d been just something to try and get her out of your system, or to get even with her– fuck if I know! I just know that, at first, I kept telling myself you needed some time to figure out what you wanted and how you felt about it. And then days just kept rolling one after the other with no word from you and I figured I must’ve been right. For all I knew you and Marissa may have gotten back together!”

Harry watched you shout all that in his face, his nostrils flared and chest heaving, then ran his hands through his long hair and down his face. He slowly removed them after calming down a bit, “No, we’re definitely not back together. I hardly had any time to mope about her and what she’s done, I’ve been too focused on you. And not just… in a bad way. Like, I wasn’t just hurting over feeling rejected by you. Like, even now, dragging you here to talk it out… even watching you blatantly flirt with all those guys…” he eyed your right hand then reached to grab it and after a quick look around to make sure no one was watching he brought it to his crotch, pressing his hand over yours to make sure you felt just how hard he was underneath his dress pants. “Feel that? Tell me why I can’t make this go away. No matter how much I abuse myself it’s right back up again at the thought of what happened between us. You made me feel–” he inhaled sharply, twitching against your palm and your mouth fell agape at the sudden change in his demeanour. “Fuck, Y/N, like no one’s ever made me feel before. And then you took it away…” he whined, and you squeezed your hand against his hard-on making his whine turn into a moan.

You could see someone exit the bathroom from your peripheral vision to your far right, and you removed your hand and grabbed his loose tie instead, dragging him towards it. Praying no one was inside, you pulled him into the bathroom for disabled, and luckily, it was vacant. Harry laughed- genuinely laughed at how ridiculous and wrong this was, of course, and you just yanked at his tie harder before you locked the door behind you. “Listen, if someone needs it, all they have to do is knock!”

“Sure. Won’t be weird at all when two people scramble out of it.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it. Thought you had a bit of a problem worth tending to, or was I mistaken?”

Harry’s eyes darkened considerably at your proposal but he seemed to sober up just as quickly when he stopped your hand from reaching his belt. “Wait. Wait, what does this mean? We’ve both clearly fucked up waiting for the other to reach out, I don’t wanna assume anything anymore. Or wait for you to make the first move. I want you. More than just for tonight, more than just for this. I don’t do casual. You should’ve known this about me by now, but I understand why you thought I maybe wanted to try something casual after that whole long term shitshow. I know you do, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but if that’s all you want with this, then I don’t know if we should–”

You kissed him, cutting him short. He was just so adorable trying to blurt all that out and you just couldn’t wait a moment longer before you told him what he wanted to hear “Harry, in case you forgot what I told you last time, when, granted, you may have been a bit distracted, so I’ll let it slide– I’ve had the fattest crush on you ever since we met. And no, that doesn’t just mean I’ve been meaning to jump your bones, it means- what you experienced tonight? Watching me flirt with those guys? That was nothing compared to how I’ve had to watch you and Marissa for all that time, watching you not only flirt with her, but… care for her, respect her, make her laugh, soothe her,... love her. I haven’t had that, with anymore. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. Don’t know what it’s like to be loved. And maybe the reason why I haven’t given anyone a real chance all this time is because, since I’ve met you, you raised the bar to the point where all the guys I meet just fall short. They can’t match up to the standard I have now, which is you. And I’m not saying this to put any pressure on this, whatever this is… Maybe it’s not going to turn into that, with us, and it’s fine. But for the first time, I feel something different, with you. It’s why I was acting like a fucking child just then, because I was hurt. I felt like I had my chance with you and blew it.”

“Fuck, Y/N… You didn’t blow it. Not at all. I did, I should’ve done this proper. Should’ve taken it slow. But I thought this is how you liked to go about things, just jump right in, I wanted to be… what you wanted. Wanted to be good for you, and maybe then you’d give me a chance. Had I known that’s how you felt about me I would’ve waited, asked you out, done it all proper. Instead, I just acted like all the guys before me… I guess… I must’ve not met the standard I’d set myself.”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t regret what happened, Harry. Not for a moment. I regret being foolish and overthinking it, and I should’ve just reached out. We were both a couple of idiots, can we agree on that?”

“Alright,” his sweet smile adorned his face once more, his deep dimples carving into his cheeks. “Can we agree on something else?”

“Hm?”

“That we’re a thing? Like, officially? I still wanna take you out and backtrack a bit, but we know eachother enough that I think we can tell if it’s something we both want or not…”

You matched his smile and his only got wider at your reaction. “Yes, Harry. We’re a thing.”

He let go of your hand and used both his to cup your cheeks and kiss you properly. It was hard to kiss while smiling as wide as you both were, but eventually you both relaxed into it and it slowly got more and more intense. 

He broke the kiss when he suddenly pulled away and groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Why can’t I keep myself in check around you? This is not how I wanted this to happen, you deserve better. Not just another quickie hiding away from our friends...”

“I decide what I deserve, and I think I’ve earned watching your pretty face all blissed out while you come inside my mouth. Haven’t I?”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“Will you deny me, Harry?”

“Of course not, baby, you can have anything you want. I’m all yours...” Harry groaned then leaned his forehead against yours “I just hate that this is all happening in the loo like this.”

You both chuckled at that and you whispered “Well, we’re not taking the traditional route, we’ve already established that. But we can wait, if it’s putting you off.”

Harry exhaled shakily “I know I should do the gentlemanly thing and have us wait, but if you don’t touch me soon I’m afraid I won’t live to see that day.”

You giggled at that “What a drama queen. We can’t have that though, can we? I just love to see you all desperate for me like this. Would’ve been disappointed if you made us wait, puppy…”

At that you pressed your palm flat against his erection yet again and he moaned, letting you push him against the door and kiss down his neck as you worked his belt loose.

You slid down to your knees, your slip dress doing a poor job at cushioning your skin against the cold, dirty tiles, but you honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck, not when you’d taken his pants down with you and was face to face with his boxers. Harry had unbuttoned his shirt hastily, pulling it open, and his dick was pushing out of the waistband of his boxers, his leaky tip visible. 

“Is it wrong that I’ve been dying to do this? Get my mouth on you. Even while being mad at you… I kept fantasising about what you might taste like.” You nosed at his erection through the cloth and you could already hear him panting in anticipation as you pulled him out. “You smell so good. Always smell so good. Love your cologne, but love the smell of your skin, the smell of you, even more.”

“Please… please…”

“Please what, puppy? Be a good boy and use your words for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes looking up at him, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to pry your eyes off of his cock. It really was a sight to behold and you felt your mouth water, eager to get a taste finally.

You loved when he got all flustered, but even so, he managed a breathy “please take me inside that pretty mouth, I can’t wait any longer, need to feel you, missed you…”

He sounded so desperate and needy you didn’t even wait for him to finish before you began kissing along his shaft, wet sloppy kisses, getting him all slippery before fitting the head in your mouth. It was already quite the mouthful and you moaned around him hoping to convey the message. 

Harry slumped against the door, losing his footing a bit.  “Oh, fuck, Y/N…”

“Taste so good. You’re just sweet all over aren’t you, pretty?” Harry whined, he was such a slut for a bit of praise and you loved it. He deserved every bit of it anyway, visibly melting at the praise but his cock got even harder if anything. “You’re gonna burst baby, I can feel it, can taste it. Want me to swallow it all up? I bet it’s gonna be a lot… you’re so big and heavy in my mouth, probably gonna choke on it…”

“Fuck, please, yes, please, please– I’m gonna–”

You deepthroated him then, and you felt him stiffen completely as you did so, then his whole body shuddered violently as he came down your throat, flooding your mouth instantly as you pulled back up a bit, choking like you predicted you would. You swallowed around him quickly, but could still feel his come dribbling down through the corners of your mouth, and Harry tried to wipe it away as he was crying out in pleasure- still careful with you even in the throes of passion.

When you finally pulled away you just stared at each other, both panting heavily. “What happened to asking for permission, hm?”

Harry’s eyes widened ashe helped you up, tucking himself away, snapping right back into action with the realization of what he’d done. He stammered to say something but you pulled him by the tie he was still wearing even with his dress shirt unbuttoned and kissed him passionately. He moaned deeply and you figured he must’ve never tasted himself before to garner this reaction from him, even now after he’d orgasmed. “You’re so in trouble, puppy. I let it slide once, the first time- remember? You’re not getting off the hook this time.”

Harry gulped and if you didn’t know any better you thought he was gonna ask you to make good of this threat right there and then. “Gonna punish me?”

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll spring it upon you unsuspectedly. Just know you’re in for it. For now… I think we need to get back out there before people report us missing.”

Harry whined. “But…”

“Hm? Are you not satisfied with what you got? You greedy puppy…”

“Of course I am. Jesus, Y/N. I saw stars for a moment there. I just–I want…”

“You need a bit of aftercare, don’t you? Want me to hold you and love on you a bit?”

Harry paused, as if not expecting you to have guessed it. “–Yes. I want that. Very much. And I want to make you feel good too…”

“Tell you what. Let’s go dance. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can kiss me. I don’t care what our friends say or if they put two and two together. Alright? As for returning the favor, there’s no such thing, Harry. We’re not keeping score, are we?”

“Of course not. It’s not that I feel I have to, I want to. I just wish I could take you home tonight… but I do want to take you out first, on a real date, spoil you a bit. Wanna treat you right.”

“Coming down my throat is treating me right, Harry. I wanted this, remember? I’m not a porcelain doll. Trust me. And I will wait, because I wanna treat you right too, and I can tell this is important to you. Now let’s go out there, if you’re comfortable with our friends seeing us together, that is.”

Harry scoffed as he righted all his clothing and you checked your appearance in the mirror, “they’re lucky I’m not stealing the DJ’s mic to announce it to the whole venue.”

You laughed at that as Harry checked if the coast was clear for the two of you to hurry out of the bathroom. He then took your hand and led you back to the dancefloor, where, as luck would have it, they’d switched to some slow dancing. Just what Harry needed, as he pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest, you swayed to the music and pretended it was just the two of you in that moment you’d never forget.

*

Your friends were nice enough not to interrupt your moment on the dancefloor and even afterwards, they didn’t inquire, probably so they didn’t make the evening about you two, since this was someone else’s wedding- but boy did they blow up your phone the following days. Harry shared that he’d been answering texts about it just the same, and, well, it was official. The two of you were a couple and your friends were nothing but surprised. 

Of course most of the girls had figured something had happened that day at the beach when they came back at the hotel and heard the door unlock just before they reached it. Then there was other incriminating evidence- your dishevelled appearances, the unmade bed, and the charged atmosphere. Not to mention, it reeked of sex, as per Sarah. 

You were glad it was all out in the open though, you didn’t wanna have to sneak around even if it would’ve probably been better to navigate this at your own pace at least at the beginning. You two weren’t planning on spending time with your friends too soon, though. The first free night that worked for both of you was already booked for the infamous date Harry was gonna take you on.

You agreed to meet at the restaurant solely because you didn’t trust yourselves to have Harry pick you up from your place and ditch the whole date altogether. You hadn’t seen eachother since the wedding, almost an entire week, and, well… texting was nice, but even that you were losing control over. 

You two needed to be alone, ASAP.

But the date was also something you were looking genuinely forward to. You’d barely had any time coming home from work to shower and change into something a lil bit more flirty, touched up your makeup the tiniest bit and rushed to get to the restaurant where Harry texted he’d already gotten to, a little bit earlier than what you’d agreed on. 

You wanted to text him back that he was a cute, eager puppy but you refrained. You genuinely wanted this date to be more than just sexual innuendo, you felt like you two needed time one on one doing more than just devouring each other.

When you finally arrived, Harry’s face lit up immediately upon seeing you. He pecked your lips and helped you to your seat and you were already wondering how you were gonna get through the night without another bathroom interlude. He looked absolutely yummy, his signature skinny jeans and a flowy, half buttoned down short sleeve shirt, his curls brushing his shoulders and his eyes rounded and sparkly. You made a mental note not to stare at his pink, shiny lips but you caught yourself doing so an embarrassing amount of times before you even got to order.

You weren’t hungry in the moment though, you barely touched your food, and it looked like Harry was on the same boat. You were too busy talking, and the conversation was flowing. You talked about your common friends for a bit to ease into it, then it went to your work places, then the inevitable subject arose- your exes.

“You know I’ve never really had a serious relationship. So there’s not much to tell… you can ask me if you want, but I genuinely wouldn’t know where to start and what would even be relevant. I am, however, interested in hearing more about what went down with Marissa… but we don’t have to talk about it right now. Just… feel free to open up whenever you feel comfortable. Or, I don’t know. Tell me to get lost if you just don’t wanna talk about it at all.”

Harry smiled at that but he’d visibly gotten quieter since the subject had been brought up. “No, I want to talk to you about it. As you know it’s still fairly recent but that’s not the issue… the issue is how it ended and I just– I don’t know how to handle my feelings about it? I feel like I’ve just kept pushing them down and I don’t know how to work through them so that I can properly move on. I don’t want it to affect us in any shape or form. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m dwelling on the past instead of being present here with you, ‘cause it’s not like that…”

You reached across the table for his hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let it go and you smiled at how nervous he seemed to be talking about this. “Have you spoken to anyone about this? The guys,...?”

“No, I mean… you saw how much they like to tease me about it. Can’t exactly open up and give them even more ammo can I? I’ve been talking to my sister a bit about it… I don’t know. She says I need closure. That I need to confront Marissa about what happened and hold her accountable somehow. But I just, I don’t know… isn’t that a bit pathetic? She cheated on me, what more is there left to say? I can blame her all I want, that won’t change what happened.”

“Wish I had any sound advice, but I just don’t know what you could do to make yourself feel better, baby. I’m sorry. Times like these when I really wish I had some experience in matters of the heart.”

Harry looked at you from underneath his lashes, “you really haven’t been in love before?”

You shrugged, “I know. I’m a weirdo, huh? I don’t know, it just never happened…”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Harry squeezed your hand. “I know it’s very caveman of me, but I love that. You haven’t really let anyone in, nobody has won your heart over, and I’m all the more excited to maybe– hopefully be your first.”

You mirrored Harry’s charged gaze and you had to admit, he could be onto something there, if the way your heart sped up at that was any indication.

“But… yeah… having said that. It was wise of you to protect your heart like that. I just throw myself head first into it. I fall hard and fast. And contrary to recent events, that’s not something that applies to all areas of my life, I promise.” 

You threw your head back laughing and you had to remind yourself you were at a nice restaurant. Harry’s goofy grin made it even more funny. “Alright, okay… we’ll… assess later on. Are you telling me that you just fall for anyone, though? Am I just one of many?” You flipped your hair dramatically, evidently making a joke but Harry pulled your arm by the hand so that you scooted closer still.

“Not in a million years, Y/N. You’re very special to me, always have been. Please don’t say that. Yes I may fall easily but I lose interest pretty easily, too. Have had many short term relationships. This might be the reason I don’t do casual, I just can’t keep my heart out of it. But down the line I realize it’s just infatuation, and that they aren’t who I painted them to be in my head, you know? I idealize people a bit, I guess. I’m dramatic like that, quite the hopeless romantic. My past relationships have fizzled out pretty early, apart from this one with Marissa and a couple before her. But you? I’ve known you for so long… and you are who you say you are, you know? You’re so unapologetically you. I’ve seen the good, the bad–”

“The bad?!”

“Yeah, sure, like how cranky you are in the morning, how bad you are at remembering birthdays…”

You scoffed, kicking his shin under the table playfully, “excuse me?!”

“Oh, shush,” he grinned. “Like I was saying- I’ve seen the good, the bad, and even while being in love I still had a soft spot for you all that time. Kinda made me question my integrity.”

“You mean when you were fantasizing about me while fucking your ex?”

Harry shook his head, covering his face with his free hand, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“You never told me it was while you were in bed with her! Earlier when you told me you kinda alluded to just thinking about me when you got yourself off, I was just pulling your leg just now!” You laughed incredulously, “Jesus, Harry, for real?!”

Harry turned a deep shade of red and you had to fight his hand away from his face. He bit his lower lip and shrugged, “I tried not to. It just kept happening. I felt really bad for it, too, so much so that it kinda…” he cleared his throat, turning more bashful, “affected my performance. I still wonder if this is why she cheated, perhaps I just wasn’t satisfying her with the way it’d die on me midway like that… it happened a few times, not too many, but still she kept making it out to be a huge deal which just made me overthink it going further.”

“Oh my God, Harry. Baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was such a touchy subject. Sorry I brought it up…”

“No, don’t be… I even thought I should mention it anyway, just in case it… happens again? Like, it didn’t, back at the hotel, but I was so excited it would’ve been impossible i reckon, plus- yeah. It wasn’t my best performance, let’s just put it that way. But hey at least that didn’t happen,” he chuckled nervously.

“Wait, no, don’t deflect with humour. You alluded at this back at the wedding, too. Said how you thought you maybe hadn’t been good enough and that’s why I hadn’t reached out? Harry, you’re insane– like, first of all, let’s just clear that up, alright? I’m not in the habit of stroking men’s ego just for the hell of it. In fact, I refrain from doing so because, really, that’s just a bad idea generally, let’s be honest. But, Harry, baby, that was just amazing. You made me feel incredible. Plus it was a new dynamic for you, I could tell you were nervous and wanted to do good, and you delivered an amazing performance all things considered. I was really impressed, to tell you the truth. Kinda been wondering if you rose up to the expectation, and you surpassed it.”

“I–wow... Really?”

“Uhm, yes?! You’re the real deal baby. Not that often you come across a well endowed man that actually knows how to operate the equipment.”

Harry bit his lower lip again, this time to avoid grinning ear to ear. Here it was, that praise kink again. You wondered if you’d live to regret telling him all this later on, but for now, it was pleasing you tremendously to see him react like this to your words of affirmation.

“Ahem, well… wow. Ok. Thank you for reassuring me. But as I previously stated, and not to sound like all this has already gone to my head… I can definitely do better.”

“Colour me intrigued.”

Harry cleared his throat, “but, just to backtrack a bit. I don’t want you to think this is something I normally do.”

“What?”

“Think about other women in bed. It’d never happened to me before. Actually, this whole discussion started from me telling you how special you were, the way you never really left my mind. But I’m realizing this might make you feel weird, or uncomfortable, so I apologise. I’m just being honest… I’m not proud of it, by any means, Marissa didn’t deserve that- well, not at the moment she didn’t. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. That being said, I don’t want this to make you ever wonder if I’m thinking about someone else while we’re together. I really do mean it when I say you’re special, Y/N. It’s not just the physical attraction, it’s like I said… I’ve known you a long time now. You’re someone I want to be around, like, all the time. Wanna bask in your presence. I realized I don’t feel the same way about any of my other friends. Haven’t felt the same about my exes aside from the initial honeymoon phase, either. I just… never get my fill of you, you know?”

You sat there, taking that all in and you had the presence of mind to come to the realization that no one had ever spoken about you like this, ever. Nobody has made you feel special. You didn’t consider yourself to be special, anyway. This was completely novel to you, and you had no idea how to react to it other than feel your heart rate pick up again. “Gosh, Harry… that’s… a lot to take in.”

Harry then hastily sat up and moved to the seat closer to you instead of across the table, still holding your hand this whole time. “I’m sorry, am I coming on too strong? Or did I make you feel uncomfortable? Both?”

You smiled at his worry and finally released your hand from his to caress the side of his face, “no, pretty. It’s just… no one’s made me feel like that before… you know? Like I was special, somehow. It’s just so foreign to me, and I don’t know what to do with myself now. All I know is that I’ve always felt the same about you, but, Harry- everyone feels that way around you. I mean, this can’t be news to you, surely you notice the attention you get everywhere you go, you just have this magnetic quality about you. It’s the way you give the person you’re talking to your undivided attention, make them feel like all your focus is concentrated on them and nothing else, the way you just light up a room and draw everyone to you like moths to a flame, your charisma, your charm, your gorgeous self. So me telling you how special you are must be something you’ve heard plenty of times. I just never thought someone like you could feel like I was special. Sure, the chemistry between us is undeniable but that’s a different matter, at least that’s what I think you meant…”

“It is, of course it is. I’m so excited for this, Y/N. And it’s not just the usual way I get excited about a new partner. It’s like… finally, I’m finally with the person I wanted all along, feels like I’ve arrived somewhere rather than just departed from somewhere else, you know?”

You twirled a curl of his around your finger, biting your lower lip. “You’re saying some pretty deep, beautiful stuff to me tonight, Harry. I didn’t know you were like this.”

“A goob”?

You yanked on his hair strand a bit in admonition, “no, silly. Romantic. But not in a cheesy way. I like it. I really like it.”

“And I like you pulling my hair.”

You squinted at him, “it comes and goes, though, doesn’t it?”

Harry laughed and scooted his seat even closer. “I’ll be romantic for you, I’m just trying my hardest not to come on too strong. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Can we go, so I can get right to it?”

You stared at his lips for a split moment before he went in for the kiss, and shortly after, you were both in an uber trying to keep it PG. 

And failing for the most part.

As soon as you got to your place, though (the closest to the restaurant), you were all over eachother. Clothes were discarded hastily and you fumbled into bed finally, not really sure how you’d made it there.

Of course you’d anticipated bringing Harry home with you tonight, and you’d gone over several scenarios, things you’d been eager to try out with him, see what he liked, how far you could push his newfound submissiveness. All that went out the window though when you had him pin you down deliciously, his heavy cock resting over your navel, a very visual reminder of how deep he was going to bury himself into you in a moment.

You just couldn’t care less about all you’d planned out, all you knew was that you wanted him inside of you, the sooner, the better. And Harry was clearly on the same page when you pumped him a few times and painted his tip through your folds, positioning him at your entrance. 

Normally, you were the kind of person who needed a bit of foreplay. Maybe a clitoral orgasm first to get you ready for a vaginal one. But as soon as he bottomed out you could already feel yourself right on the edge. 

You’d been with big guys before, and yes, it helped, but sex was so much more than just that. A good orgasm wasn’t automatically a result of a precise technique just anyone (other than yourself, maybe) could apply. 

Harry just got you there. Everything about him got you there. 

From his gorgeous face, the way he kissed you, so wet and sloppy and intense, the way he breathed you in, got right under your skin to the point where it was like you were high on him.

The way he held you and felt you all over, a heady mix of gentle and assertive, tentative and possessive; the way he looked at you like he could eat you alive if you weren’t careful, to the way he felt inside of you, filling you up so perfectly like you were fucking made for eachother.

His pretty moans, you loved how vocal he was. His whimpers, his grunts, his huffs and the way he trembled when you kissed him as if that was the absolute peak of intimacy. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you were coming around his cock. He was so pleased with himself he almost came then and there from the shock of it alone. “But I want another one. I can feel it, you’re going to ruin me with this next one, come on baby. Let go, I’ll catch you.”

He abused your clit then, thumbed at it just right, made you feel like you couldn’t possibly fit under your skin for a moment longer, and that’s when you squirted all over him, for the first time in your life, something you’d always suspected yourself capable of but just never got there, not even on your own.

Harry added to the wet mess immediately after, pulling out and painting all over you in turn. 

Your legs were shaking something fierce when he dragged you into the shower but he managed to soothe your muscles into complete relaxation, caressing you all over and kissing you incessantly.

“I’ll be right back to get you, just gonna go change the bedsheets, alright? Just stay here under the water so you don’t get cold, baby.”

He was gone before you could sober up enough to tell him where to look for the bedlinen. You were so drunk on him, you felt like maybe switching the water to cold would bring you back on earth if only just momentarily.

But Harry was back surprisingly fast, wrapped you up in a fluffy towel and unwrapped you before tucking you under the duvet. You didn’t ask where he was going, you just loved watching him prance around with a towel around his waist, made a mental note to ask him to ditch it next time.

Next time. Your heart rate picked up again realizing there would be a next time, and a time after that. You were a couple, he wasn’t going anywhere in the morning. And instead of having this notion terrify you, it made you feel all warm inside.

You knew this was trouble, didn’t need anyone to narrate this in a Morgan Freeman voice for you to realize you were probably falling in love for the first time. All the cliche signs were there. But not even that realization terrified you.

Huh.

Harry was back with a tall glass of water, insisted you drank a bit before scooting in under the duvet next to you. Skin to skin, fresh sheets, and he still smelled divinely like himself. He spooned you and held you close and you were asleep before you could even go over everything that had happened in your head.

You did, however, wake up at one point in the night. You weren’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone, really. The short term relationships you’d had still didn’t automatically mean your exes would be spending the night often. 

Harry had shifted a bit, splayed on his back, occupying most of the bed like a huge starfish. Funny, since he’d definitely been sharing beds for most of his adulthood, and still didn’t know how to keep to his side of the bed.

You weren’t sure how late it was, but the morning wasn’t close yet. It was definitely nowhere near close enough for the morning wood Harry was sporting. Which meant it probably wasn’t the reason for his impressive erection, he was probably dreaming of something really nice, hopefully you. 

How sad would it be if he was already thinking of some other woman like he promised wouldn’t happen again, you laughed to yourself. You couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to you, even. He’d been so vulnerable with you, so open. You realized you’d never really gotten to what had happened between him and Marissa, apart from what you already knew. You made a mental note to continue that conversation later on, but for now, you had other plans.

It was just too tempting not to. 

When Harry finally gasped, he almost deepthroated you with how he jerked awake. His guttural groan covered your choking sounds, though, and you didn’t let up. He reached to card his fingers through your hair and you popped off of him, “nuh-huh. Where’s your manners, puppy?”

It took him a bit to register the entirety of the situation but when he finally did he whined “Fuck, Y/N… can I touch you, baby? You’re making me feel so good. God, that mouth of yours...”

“Alright, go ahead. You like this, then? Feel good?”

“I feel… euphoric.”

“Good.” You paused to stroke him a bit as you spoke to him assertively, “because this is all you’re getting. Gonna edge you, over and over, until I fall asleep mouthing at this pretty cock of yours. How’s that sound?”

Harry whined again, even more pathetically, “but… you mean, you won’t let me finish? At all?”

You chuckled mockingly, “that’s right pretty, and do you know why that is?”

Harry shook his head poutily and you just cooed at him as you spat over him, watching your saliva land on his sensitive slit. “Well, puppy, I’m just making sure you never forget to ask before coming again, hm? Third time tonight… and I’ve been warning you. Naughty boys get punished you know…”

“Fuck!” He threw his head back on the pillow as you took him right back in your mouth and down your throat again.

And again.

And again.

You’d reduced him to a whiny, pouty mess in record time. You could tell he’d never had someone else edge him, he’d told you the truth. Not that you suspected any of what he’d told you to be a lie. And not that you really felt he deserved to be punished, he’d fucked you better than anyone else ever had. This was actually his reward. He just didn’t know it yet.

By the time his thighs were shaking and he incessantly pleaded for you to let him come, you scooted lower and played with his balls a bit, not giving any attention to his cock but you knew he was so far gone that he’d probably still finish just from this.

But when you pushed his thighs farther apart and tongued at his perineum he cried out so loud that you took pity on him and decided to end his agony. You took his throbbing cock back into your hand and languidly stroked him. “Ever had your pretty ass played with before, puppy?”

“N-no… never…”

“Not even by yourself? Never been curious to try?”

“I–I have, but… I don’t know…”

“Want me to give you a first too tonight? Just like you did for me? I’d never squirted before either, you know.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Y/N, really?”

“Mhm.” You kept licking at his sack as you talked to him, all the while stroking him but not applying as much pressure as you knew you needed at that point. “What say? Wanna try? You can say no, I won’t be upset or disappointed. And you can stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

“And I can come?”

“Yes, puppy, you can come, but I’ll let you come either way. You’ve been such a good boy, I can’t leave you hanging, not tonight. So? What will it be? It’s your choice.”

“Uhm… ok, we can try…” He was visibly shaking in anticipation, as you tried to gauge whether he was just eager to finish or actually give this a try.

You bent his knees a bit over his chest and gave him a tentative lick even lower down. Harry shuddered in pleasure and began blabbering about how he can’t hold off anymore. You knew he was right on the brink, you were proud of him for holding out for as long as he had. Licking again more vigorously, you knew you had to go easy on him, so all you did was give him a tentative fingertip. But it was enough for him to clamp onto and spasm around uncontrollably as he finally came undone. 

You praised him through his orgasm, telling him how good he was for you, how pretty he looked like that, how brave he’d been to try something new. When he came down you scooted your way up his long torso and he kissed you even more ardently than before if that was even possible. “That was… incredible. I don’t think I ever came that hard in my life.”

“Good. Cause that’s the case for me as well. Wanted to give you something similar, I’m so glad you were open to it. Knew it’d blow your mind.”

“Fuck, that was… holy shit. I can’t believe how intense that was. But even the edging… it was everything I’d fantasized about and more. You’re… fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible. You’re never getting rid of me.”

And for the first time, that notion didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you hopeful. Maybe he really would be your first, after all.

lhh Masterlist

A/N: whew this sure took me a while but writing subrry isn't my expertise as you know! i wanted to get it right! hopefully i did him justice ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[mandarinmoons]

Hii. if you’re still taking request, i have a request for your littérateur-ness :)

I don’t know if you write for BAU!reader or explicitly reader x Spencer but I was thinking about the team working a case in a haunted town. Spooky, unexplainable incidents happen (doors open, shadows appear), their hotel rooms are haunted (which maybe causes some room sharing ifykyk), instigators freak out the others and skeptics try to defend incidents. Penelope goes out and buys sage, Reid freaks out reader, Derek sleeps out in the SUV because he’s not super excited about the ghosts. 

I love this omg

The steps of the hotel creaked as you walked up them and the wood seemed so worn that you tried your best to convince yourself that you wouldn’t fall through them.

“C’mon now everyone, let’s go check in,” Rossi announced as he walked towards the reception and everyone followed suit, but no one listened to David's and the hotel workers chatter as they all took in the building just walked into.

The air felt unusual to say the least. You could feel yourself being watched and if you focused hard enough swore that you felt a hand on your shoulder, but when you turned around there was no one behind you, it must’ve been the exhaustion.

Receiving the key to your room, you took off to finally get a change of clothes and relax in a soft bed. As you walked through the halls you felt unusual cold spots here and there, thinking that it was due to the hotel being old and not having the best insulation, you brushed it off and headed to your room.

As the night moved on you swore you heard little tapping sounds, on the walls, on the windows, anywhere you could think of.

Nearly falling asleep you heard a knock on your door, you jumped at the sudden sound and made your way to open it, seeing Spencer on the other side.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Spencer looked tense. He was clutching a pillow to his chest and his brows were knitted in worry.

“Can I stay with you for the night? I keep feeling like there’s someone watching me in my room.”

“Well, I don't know if I’ll be much help because I keep experiencing the same thing.”

“It seems like everyone is.”

“What do you mean?”

Spencer walked in and sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to find the words for the occurrences he’d faced tonight.

“Morgan kept saying he felt like he was being watched. He also said that he kept hearing furniture being moved when he was in the shower. He got so freaked out that he ended up going to the car to sleep.”

“What? Really?”

Spencer nodded and continued, “Penelope even went to town to buy some sage to “cleanse the air”, but I doubt it’ll help.”

Chuckling, you made your way to the bed and sat next to Spencer. Even if he was one of the most logical people you had ever met, you were a bit amused seeing him visibly shaken over these encounters.

“Are you afraid of a few ghosts?”

Spencer snorted, but still hugged the pillow close to him, “There’s no scientific evidence that ghosts are real.”

“Yeah? And you’re over here shaking like a leaf.”

“Oh, like you aren’t affected by this?”

“Okay okay, fine. I admit, it’s been a bit eerie here.”

“So, can I stay here?”

“Would it make you feel better?”

Spencer nodded and you rolled your way to the side of the bed, patting the open spot, a way of saying he could stay.

Crawling over to you, Spencer put his pillow down and laid down with his face towards you, his eyes capturing yours.

After a moment of silence you closed your eyes and soon enough both of you fell asleep.

What felt like only 15 minutes of sleep, you were shaken awake by Spencer, his voice shaky and on edge.

“Y/N, Y/N!”

“Spencer, what’s wrong?!”

“I heard knocking.”

Walking over to the door carefully, you opened it and were met with Penelope, holding a box of incense in her hands.

“I have come to cleanse your room my dears” Penelope walked past you and lit one of the sticks, airing it around the room.

“Is this even allowed?”

“I checked with the staff, apparently even they themselves do this every few weeks in hopes it’ll slow down activity.”

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s true, ask them yourselves if you must.”

Being cut off by Spencer’s coughing, he stood up and opened the window to clear the air.

“Wait, boy genius, what’re you doing here?”

“I uh, I heard some noises in my room and didn’t want to be alone.”

“Aww, being with Y/N makes you feel safe?”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean-”

Penelope chuckled over Spencer’s sputtering which only made you crack a smile. Knowing that Spencer felt safe in your presence tugged at your heart in ways you never thought was possible.

After a good half an hour and the smell of the incense permeating the air, Penelope left you and Spencer to rest. Sleep was the last thing on both of your minds though as you both were up until nearly 3 AM, talking about the possibilities of why all of these events took place.

“What about the tapping on the walls?”

“It could be mice.”

“Ew, don’t say that.”

“I’m just stating the most possible explanation!”

“Just say it’s ghosts and go to sleep.”

“As I stated before, there is no-”

Before Spencer managed to finish his sentence, a sudden crash was heard outside the room, which caused Spencer to jump into your embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“Spencer, I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry…”

A second later you heard a hotel employee call out, apologizing for his cleaning cart dropping on the floor. A sigh of relief came out of both of you and then you felt your cheeks heat up, realizing what position the two of you were in.

“Oh sorry, I should um,” Spencer moved to slide his arm off of you, but before he could move any more, you rested your hand on top of his.

“It’s okay, I like it.”

Blinking his eyes rapidly, Spencer laid his head down and looked over at you for a moment before mumbling a “good night” and closing his eyes.

You kept looking at Spencer’s face for a moment, seeing his face relax as sleep took over and he was finally able to rest. As much as you hated all of the weird occurrences that happened throughout the night, you couldn’t lie and say that you were annoyed with Spencer coming over to stay the night with you, because you weren’t, you were delighted by it.

You shut your eyes and your thumb ran over the back of Spencer’s hand, which was met by Spencer pulling you slightly closer in his sleep, his breath fanning over your face. You were just close enough to rest your head in the crook of his neck and you secretly hoped that there would be another bump in the night, so that he’d pull you closer into him and you’d get to live out your secret wish.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[cal-writes]

the last post reminded me i’ve written sth like that before and idk if i ever shared it so enjoy shinichis classmates in kyoto

-

Nakamichi had always thought Kudou was kind of strange. Like one would look at a weird ass insect and think to themselves: There is something kind of fucked up going on with this thing. But hey, Nakamichi had also met Kudou’s parents once so like, he got it, right? People like that as your parents? You were bound to end up a little strange. Plus Kudou had that whole murder solving thing going on - which was admittedly very cool but also deeply unsettling at times. But Kudou always had the best stories, he was great at soccer. Nakamichi couldn’t really ask for more from the guy. You just learned to tune him out whenever he went on a weird tangent or started to mutter to himself and let him run off. Kudou disappearing overnight without warning wasn’t even the strangest thing he had ever done that Nakamichi knew about so it was whatever. Kinda sucked to have their best player MIA but they dealt with it. Ran and Sonoko talking about him loudly in class kept most of them up to date about what shenanigans he got into so Nakamichi wasn’t all that concerned.

He was insanely surprised to find out that Kudou would be joining them on their Kyoto trip and even more so when Kudou actually showed up and didn’t immediately run off. Nakamichi found himself actually looking forward to catching up with Kudou for once because over a year of him being fuck knows where? A guy was allowed to have some questions.

The amount of questions he had only increased at Kudou getting to their room looking like death warmed over and dodging any attempt to start a conversation until he was buried in bed.

Sure, Kudou was weird. But there was a spectrum and that was definitely out of character weird. Then he started to talk with an accent too. Nakamichi wasn’t a detective but you couldn’t help but pick up a certain radar for out of wack shit once you hung around Kudou for long enough.

“What do you think happened to him?” Aizawa from their soccer club stage whispered deep in the night after most of them had already dropped off. Nakamichi paused on his way to crawl into his bed and glanced over to Kudou’s bed.

“He got game apparently.” Nakamichi said, chuckling to himself. A year ago he couldn’t have imagined Kudou ever getting the balls to actually confess to Mouri. And make out with her too.

Aizawa snorted. “What if he had to go, like, undercover or something.” Aizawa theorized and Nakamichi fell into the sweet embrace of his bed.

“Probably something like that. Dude’s got the worst luck in the world.” He muttered into the pillow. He fell asleep before hearing Aizawa’s reply.

He slept like a rock. Between one conscious thought and the next it felt like no time had passed at all. “Hattori! Wake up!” He heard Kudou’s voice shouting and Nakamichi’s first instinct was to tell him to fuck off. When his brain caught up with him, Nakamichi opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling. Who the hell was Hattori? “Something happened again.” Kudou’s voice was a hiss, now trying to be quiet. Nakamichi’s head leaned to the side and it took a while for him to understand what he was seeing.

Kudou leaned over his own bed, shaking another guy awake that Nakamichi had never seen before. The fuck? It was definitely not one of their classmates. Hattori?

“I’m up, I’m up.” Hattori? Said and threw the blankets off of him. Had he slept in Kudou’s bed? Well, obviously he had. Nakamichi shut his eyes as the two of them puttered about the room. “You good?” The guy had an accent.

“I’m fine.” Kudou said, sounding kind of breathless. “Come on, before any of them wake up.” He said as they shuffled past Nakamichi’s bed.

“Cheap ass hotel bed, my back hurts.” The new guy said earning him a scoff from Kudou.

“Your back hurts?”, Kudou said and Nakamichi’s eyes snapped open in a flash. “You’re not the one-” The rest of his sentence was lost behind the door as the two of them left the room.

Nakamichi laid there for a moment, just looking at nothing.

Fuck. Kudou had gotten game while he had been gone, just not in the way Nakamichi had thought. Who would have thought that Kudou would disappear for months and come back with a secret boyfriend? He sat up slowly. The revelation had woken him up faster than any coffee. Did Mouri know about this? Of course she would know! Kudou and her have been inseparable since forever. Ohh. Nakamichi slapped his own forehead. Of course, Mouri was the cover. That was why Kudou had reacted weirdly when they had asked him about London. Damn, had his boyfriend been in the room the whole time? Hiding under the bed? Maybe Kudou hadn’t forgotten his key, maybe he had just given it to Hattori.

This. This wasn’t what Nakamichi had expected but the more he thought about it, the more things fell into place. Of course Kudou wasn’t straight! He should have clocked that around the third lecture about Sherlock Holmes he had to endure before Kudou stopped bothering with it. Nobody was that into a fictional guy just because.

Aizawa groaned from the floor, sitting up with one of their scattered playing cards stuck to his face. “Mornin’.” He said with a wide yawn.

Nakamichi wanted to explode and tell Yoksuke everything immediately but stopped himself after inhaling. Kudou had smuggled his boyfriend into their room, probably in the middle of the night so none of them would see and ushered him outside at ass crack of dawn. Kudou wasn’t one for embarrassment but he was one that cared a lot about other people’s opinion of them. Damn, he probably thought they’d make fun of him for being gay or beat him up or something.

“You good, man?” Aizawa asked when he didn’t reply. He folded his arms over the bed, eyes tiny slits crusted with sleep.

Nakamichi nodded quickly. “Yeah. Don’t think I’ve ever slept this good.” He said.

Aizawa groaned. “Wish I could say the same.” He got onto his feet, stretching his arms above his head. “Kudou’s gone already?” He asked and Nakamichi threw his blankets off of him.

“Probably to get breakfast.” He said in a hurry and shook the other two guys that had crashed in their room awake. Aizawa didn’t question it. Nakamichi swallowed down his excitement. Whenever he got Kudou alone he’d have to tell him that his secret was safe with him. They might never had been the best of friends but hey, Nakamichi could totally understand wanting to keep being gay on the down low, especially with how much public scrutiny Kudou was under all the time. Nakamichi’s lips were sealed! Now if he could only remember why the name Hattori sounded so damn familiar.

[rafeshoeeee]

Business partners

You and Rafe have never really gotten along, you were both extremely stubborn and your similar personalities tend to clash from time to time. Your relationship has slightly improved over the years, finally learning to tolerate each other, but the two of you still squabbled like children, bickering at each other over the smallest of things.

When the two of you found out your fathers had arranged for you and Rafe to go to a business party as a couple, hell broke loose. But after lots of disagreeing, you both realized that neither of your fathers would change their minds, especially when it comes to business.

Your father had already picked you out a dress for the occasion, because apparently all your dresses are too inappropriate. You were expecting something really ugly and an awful bright color, but it was actually surprisingly nice. A long, black strapless dress, the top was almost corset like, but very elegant, nothing too over the top, perfect for the occasion.

Rafe's father, Ward, had suggested that the two of you should share a hotel room. Despite only being in there for a few hours before the event started and for somewhere to sleep afterwards, Ward thought it would be a good bonding opportunity and your father agreed with his idea.

The taxi had finally dropped you off at the hotel after the hour and half drive it took to get there, you and Rafe both becoming agitated from being in each other's presence for so long. 

Rafe signed into the hotel and got the room key from the receptionist. You left him to figure out where your room was, but it didn't take him very long.

You assumed there would be two single beds but your jaw dropped when you saw one king sized bed. "why the fuck is there only one bed" you protested, slumping onto the lounge chair next to you.

"our dads clearly wanted us to practice acting like a couple" he chuckled, clearly finding this whole thing amusing.

you scoffed, his immaturity not taking you by surprise, "it's not funny Rafe" you ran a hand through your hair out of agitation.

He rolled his eyes before throwing himself onto the bed, "relax, it's called a joke. I was trying to lighten your mood."

You scoffed again, looking at his cocky smirk, annoying you even more by how he was enjoying winding you up, "stop pretending that your excited for tonight, you're dreading it equally as much as i am. And don't even try and deny it"

His smirk grew bigger, sensing how annoyed you were getting, "seeing you all dressed up will make up for it" he flirtily commented.

You just screwed your face up in annoyance and walked towards the bathroom, "i'm showering, don't come in"

"i don't know if i'll be able to help myself" he teased, the smirk on his face still remaining the same.

You spun your head around at his comment, looking straight at him with a 'don't you dare' expression on your face, and he held his hands up in surrender. You lightly laughed at his action before entering the bathroom and shutting it behind you.

You turned on the shower and let it heat up whilst you underdressed, appreciating the quiet time and being away from Rafe for a while.

As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit you, drowning you in your thoughts. Maybe Rafe wasn't so bad, he was a very attractive young man but his temper and snarky little comments he constantly made was off putting. But he also made flirty comments here and there and it scrambled your brain. Most of the time you were walking on eggshells around him, never knowing what would cause him to lash out, but sometimes he was kind and gentle. You two shared the same humor, some times bouncing off each other's comments and laughing at things most people wouldn't even consider funny, but one of you always takes it too far, leading to yet another argument.

You scrubbed at your skin with the sponge, washing away any dirt that had clung onto you. The scrubs were rough, your thoughts about Rafe making you frustrated, annoyed that he had made this effect on you. The flirty little comments he made towards you were engraved in your mind, you always remembered every comment he made about you, good or bad, but the flirty ones always stuck with you. The way they easily rolled off his tongue and the smirk that was always on his face whenever a flirty comment was made, was an image you could never unsee.

God. What were you thinking? This is Rafe Cameron you're talking about, a spoilt, hot headed, rich boy who always wanted his own way and threw a tantrum whenever he didn't.

You turned off the shower and stepped out, the cold air hitting you, causing goosebumps to appear. You wrapped the towel around your small frame whilst you took your dress out of the bag, holding it up against you and looking at yourself in the mirror. You thought about how to style your hair and what sort of makeup would complement the dress.

You brushed that thought to the back of your mind and slipped the dress on, it took quite a lot of adjusting and making it sit comfortably but you thought you looked great. It hugged your curves perfectly and gave your boobs a slight push up, making them more noticeable.

You had taken everything in with you beforehand so you were prepared. You started by styling your hair with a curling iron, the curls weren't too tight as you wanted more of a natural looking wave. You didn't want to go too overboard with your makeup, you decided on a winged eyeliner and a red lip, wanting to look professional and classy so you fit in perfectly.

Just as you were perfecting your eyeliner, you head a light knock on the door, "can i come in?" Rafe asked gently. It took you by surprise that he didn't just barge in, never usually having any shame.

"sure" you replied, continuing on your eyeliner. You assumed Rafe had just come in to get something but he stood right beside you with a huge pout on his face. His tie was draped around his neck but undone, he looked extremely frustrated with himself.

You looked up and furrowed your eyebrows at him, "what's the pout for?" you asked before mimicking his babyish pout.

He rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for joking around, he let out a huge sigh and rubbed his forehead with his hand, "can you just, do my tie for me?" avoiding eye contact with you, clearly embarrassed about asking.

You lightly laughed before placing your eyeliner down, "you seriously can't do one?" you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, his poker face had always been extremely hard to read.

He let out a loud sigh, "do you really think i'd come in here and bother you if i did?" he was trying to keep his cool, but not doing a very good job at keeping it together.

You raised your eyebrows and slightly rolled your eyes, not surprised one bit by his reaction. You tucked a loose strand of your now curled hair behind your ear, "well i can't reach" his height compared to yours was the first thing most people would notice when you two are together, you standing at 5'3 whilst he's at 6'4.

Before anything else could be said, Rafe's hand gripped your waist, lifting you up and he gently placed you on the bathroom counter, now in perfect eye-line of him. His beautiful blue eyes pierced into you, waiting for you to start. You quickly glanced at him before maintaining your focus on his tie, gently folding the ends over each other.

The silence was loud, you could almost hear a pin drop. It was different, compared to what the two of you are usually like, which is bickering and arguing, and now you're in perfect silence, it was peaceful almost.

You didn't like the silence though, it felt unnatural between the two of you. You patted his shoulder, letting him know you were finished.

He admired your work in the mirror, "cheers" he ran a hand through his hair before tucking his shirt into his trousers.

You had to admit, he looked good, his suit looked great on him and the navy blue trousers were perfect for him.

"I still can't believe you actually can't do one. How the hell did you manage at school?" you questioned, curious to what he did.

"my dad always bought me a clip on one" he stated.

you rolled your eyes, "of course he did" you picked up your red lipstick and carefully coated it on, being careful not to go over the natural shape of your lip.

"we need to go by the way" Rafe reminded you.

you messed about with your hair in the mirror one last time and put your lipstick back in your makeup bag, "yeah, yeah i'm ready" you told him, slipping on your black high heels and quickly spraying even more perfume on.

Rafe reached out his arm and you grabbed onto his bicep as he lead you out the room. As you were walking to the event, It didn't feel weird or uncomfortable being this close to Rafe and you surprisingly didn't mind clinging onto his arm at all.

You didn't want to admit it but you were actually quite nervous, you weren't an expert at business talk and your mind usually went blank whenever you were asked about the topic. You hesitated to ask Rafe but he was your only option, "um, Rafe" your voice was small and soft, but he heard you just fine.

He hummed, letting you know he heard you and allowing you to continue, "can you just, remind me what i need to say when somebody asks me about business" you felt extremely stupid, going to a whole party where everyone knew what they were talking about apart from you.

"just stand there and look pretty, i'll do the talking, you have nothing to worry about" he reassured you, a smile spreading on your face.

He looked towards you in awe, a smile creeping onto his face when he saw you smiling to yourself. He thought you looked absolutely incredible and he knew he was going to enjoy showing off 'his girl' to everyone there. He's always found you attractive but he never knew how to express it, he just hid behind teasing you and throwing flirtatious compliments here and there at you. He somewhat enjoyed getting a rise out of you, he liked the challenge that you offered, he was used to girls swooning at his feet but you were different. You were unlike any other girl, you had self respect which most didn't, you carried yourself so confidently and didn't put up with anyone's shit. Not even Rafe's. He loved how you always had something to say about whatever the case was, always defending yourself whenever necessary.

The party was only in the main building of the hotel the two of you were staying at, but the place was huge. There was a huge staircase leading to the party, you could hear the chatter of the people below you and the soft band music playing.

You looked towards Rafe and let out a huge sigh you didn't know you were holding in as you began walking down the stairs. When the people came into view, they all looked very posh, some were quite old and some were around yours and Rafe's age.

You spotted the bar and you were eager to get over there "can we please get a drink? I'm going to need one to get through tonight" you asked him, no matter what his answer was you were going to get one either way. A vodka coke would fill your craving and take away the stress you were feeling.

"one drink y/n, i can't have you drinking too much and messing this up" he told you, his voice stern and very serious sounding.

"Me?" you laughed, "your the one with a raging anger problem, sooo," you teased, slightly laughing to yourself. You looked up at Rafe and to your surprise he was actually laughing at your comment.

You two had reached the bar and you were patiently waiting for the bartender to serve you. You looked at the people who were sat around the bar, sipping on their glasses of what you assumed was champagne or Prosecco.

"what can i get for you guys?" the bartender asked, capturing your attention immediately.

Your mood instantly lightened, you could almost taste the vodka coke on the tip of your tongue, "please can i have a-"

Before you could even finish your sentence Rafe butted in, "two champagnes would be great"

The bartender nodded before collecting the glasses and going to fill them.

"what the hell" your voice raised slightly, frustrated at how Rafe literally spoke for you and didn't let you order yourself.

"what?" he asked, screwing his face up, wondering what you were so annoyed about.

you brushed your hair out of your face and lightly smiled at the bartender who had handed you guys your champagne, before speaking up, "i wanted a vodka coke, and i don't even like champagne" you pouted, still grabbing the glass a chugging down the pathetic amount of liquid they gave, hoping to feel some kind of buzz.

Rafe chuckled, watching you in amusement. You turned your head towards him and looked at him extremely unimpressed, "what's so funny?" you asked, looking at him as if there were daggers in your eyes.

"who's the one pouting now?" he teased, finishing off his champagne, looking at you and awaiting for your reaction.

You laughed, pushing him slightly, "oh shut up" you teased back, Rafe was looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, admiring your beautiful smile.

He led you around, stopping to talk to people you both knew, he did most of the talking about business just like he said he would. You just stood there, impressed by how much he knew about the topic, looking at him in admiration.

"someone's done there research" you nudged him lightly, trying to crack a joke.

He looked down at you and smirked, "well someone had to know what they were talking about"

You pouted at him a lightly shook your head, trying to hide the smile that you couldn't keep from crawling onto your face.

You both took a seat at your assigned table of two, getting ready to listen to the important people make their speeches. Rafe had told you the names of them but you didn't remember, not really very interested in the matter. You were just here to support your father's business, in hope to impress him. Although you didn't have to say much, you had actually learnt quite a lot from Rafe talking to everyone about both your father's business and how they share one together.

You found yourself admiring him every so often, not just how passionate he spoke of the topic but his beauty. You had really seen him in a different light after spending a long period of time with him. Despite knowing him for years the time you usually spent around each other was very short.

The waiters and waitresses handed out the appetizers which were disgusting. You and Rafe did try everything but neither of you particularly enjoyed any of them.

The speech people had already begun and the room was silent listening to them. You rested your chin in your hand, not understanding why everyone found what he was talking about so interesting.

"ma'am" you heard beside you, he captured your attention and you whipped your head quickly to look at him. It was a waiter handing out cocktails on tray, you turned the other way to see if Rafe had noticed. He had strictly told you one drink but he was so engaged in the man talking you grabbed the cocktail off the tray and mouthed a thank you to the man and he nodded in response.

You quickly put the straw to your lips and drank the beverage, the alcohol was prominent and took you by surprise. It had a lovely fruity taste and had the perfect amount of alcohol.

The sound of you slurping at the liquid captured Rafe's attention, he took the glass out of your hand and placed it on the table.

"where did you get that?" he whisper yelled, looking you straight in the face before his eyes traveled elsewhere. Straight to your cleavage, he licked his lips before looking at your face again.

You saw that he had gotten himself another drink but he wasn't as much of a lightweight compared to you. It didn't take much for you to be drunk and Rafe knew that.

"a waiter offered me it, he could clearly see i was in need of one" you flicked your hair off your shoulder and tucked it behind your ears so it was out of your face.

Rafe could sense your tipsiness and didn't fancy you making a fool of yourself in-front of all these people, "right let's go" he said, about to pull himself up from his chair.

You placed a gentle hand on top of his and your nails scratched at his skin gently, "'no no, i can see how much you want to listen, it's fine"

He looked at you with worried eyes, "i'm fine i promise" you reassured him, he nodded and took his attention back to the men speaking.

You never removed your hand from on top of his, still gently scratching at his skin, fiddling with his gold ring on his middle finger.

The waiter had come around again, this time with shots, you didn't want to annoy Rafe but you just couldn't fight the temptation. You quickly picked one up and downed it before placing it back on the tray and smiling at the waiter.

The alcohol was cursing through your veins, you craved the man next to you. You shuffled your chair towards him and whispered in his ear, "please can we go"

He looked towards you and watched as you placed a delicate hand on his broad shoulder, he nodded and grabbed your hand before leading you up the stairs and towards your room.

"did i tell you how hot you look tonight?" you asked him, the alcohol giving you more confidence and no self control. The grip on his arm tightening.

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, not responding to your comment due to your drunken manner. He thought exactly the same about you, he just didn't know how to tell you.

You had reached your room and Rafe unlocked it with the key, he turned the light on before shutting the door behind you.

You felt a bit defeated by him not responding but you didn't care and just wanted to go to sleep. But Rafe grabbed you and pinned you against the door, "did i tell you how much i want to kiss you?" he asked, a huge smirk on his face.

You grabbed his face and connected your lips together.

Maybe you and Rafe got on better than you thought after all.

haven't edited sorry if it's bad xoxo

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning 

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today. 

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?” 

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”  

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one. 

But that hope was short lived. 

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case. 

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it? 

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...” 

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way. 

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through  

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration. 

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?” 

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times. 

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out. 

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you. 

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine. 

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too” 

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...” 

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.  

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?  

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”  

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?” 

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”  

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you. 

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!” 

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.  

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent. 

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere. 

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand 

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even. 

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again. 

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch. 

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty” 

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features 

“You were taking so long!”  

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short. 

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.  

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?  

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you  

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute” 

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing. 

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure. 

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but- 

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something” 

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English. 

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible. 

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.  

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain. 

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion. 

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.  

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day. 

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level. 

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window. 

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused. 

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions. 

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind. 

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that 

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that. 

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly” 

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest. 

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and- 

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this. 

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it 

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?” 

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all” 

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.  

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.  

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?” 

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add. 

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning” 

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom? 

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.  

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?  

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:  

DAD 

A due reminder that none of this is real.  

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

[sunshine-theseus]

The Game That Changed Our Lives | Katrina Gorry x Reader

Words: 2.3k

Summary: your sister retires but you found the girl. (I know how her final game went but I’m changing it because I can. again apologies it's not my best)

Warnings: nothing really but reader is like 26ish? So it’s like a 5 year age difference. And I’m gonna say Harper is like 4 not 2 for the sake of the timeline. Also please pretend there’s like at least a week between the 2 games.

Requested by - @liverpoolfan96

“Christiiine. You can’t make me! I refuse!” I try to pull my arm out of her grip as she drags me onto the field.

“You’ve been crushing on her since we played against them at the World Cup, you’re going to meet her.” Christine continues to drag me through the celebrations of our teammates, the British Columbia rain pelting down on us and the Australian players.

“Plus, after our final game in Vancouver, who knows when you’ll see her next. And I’m your older sister, I’m required to make you do things you don’t want to.” She abruptly stops in front of Steph Cately, who is talking to Caitlin Foord and Katrina Gorry.

Christine hugs her former Portland teammates before turning to Katrina, who now has her little girl resting on her hip. The group begins talking amongst themselves and I zone out, until an arm wraps around my shoulders and squeezes me.

“This is my little sister. I apologise you haven’t met her yet, she’s awfully shy, especially when she likes someone.” She pointedly comments toward Katrina. I shove my elbow into her ribs and glare up at her before turning toward the Australian girl. My face is flushed, and my palms are sweating as I make eye contact with Katrina, who smiles at me before picking up the little girls hand and makes her wave. It’s painfully adorable to watch.

“It’s nice to meet you…”

“Y/n” I smile at the shorter woman as I watch Christine, Steph and Caitlin slowly move away from us out of the corner of my eye.

I talk to her for a relatively long time, eventually finding myself sitting on the wet pitch, my feet touching Kat’s as Harper runs back and forth between us, occasionally actually holding the ball we’re throwing. But then we’re both called by our respective teams to get back to the locker rooms before going back to our hotels. We bid each other goodbye, exchanging numbers before I crouch down and hug Harper.

I spend the following days excessively texting Kat, or Mini as everyone endearingly seemed to call her. I also facetime them after dinners to talk to Harper, who apparently begs all day to see me. I tell everyone who will listen, about the beautiful Australian and her precious little girl who adores me. It doesn’t take more than 10 minutes for Christine, or whoever else it may be, to tell me to shut up most times. Except Jessie, who is either far too polite to say anything, or has her headphones on and therefore isn’t actually listening. In her times of need, she messages Janine, who comes to rescue her.

~~~~~

The day of our match in Vancouver at BC Place, temporarily renamed Christine Sinclair Place, I unintentionally go dead silent. It was naturally an emotional day for us all, but being the sister of the world’s top goal scorer who is finally retiring, having played with her all my life, and being there to see her hang up her boots? It had me tearing up every time I even looked at her.

I woke up that morning, turned over in bed, and saw her training bag sitting on the bed, and began crying. A similar incident happened at breakfast as I watched her walk the buffet line next to Schmidt. Ashley wasn’t sure how to comfort me and simply decided to pat me on the back.

By the time we pulled up to training, Kat had messaged me multiple times, and I hadn’t read a single one. I spent every moment by Christine’s side. I think most people were annoyed by lunch time, but I continued to cling to her arm as the bus pulled up to Christine Sinclair Place. And as we all changed into shirts with the number 12 on them for warm up. And as we changed into our kits, her for the very last time. I finally let go when we had to line up, her mere steps behind me as she waits to be announced.

I make eye contact with the Australian I had been accidentally ignoring all day, tears pricking behind my eyes. I give her a small smile, but she just turns back to her mascot.

We then all line up on the pitch, watching as past Canadian teammates come out and a farewell video plays on the big screen above us, Schmidty, Christine and our nieces standing in front of us all. I can’t help the tears that fall as Jessie hugs me as well as she can as we stand side by side.

Before we get into our positions to start the game, I rush to the sideline to meet Christine. Our pinkies link together, and we step over the white line with our right foot in sync. We turn toward each other, and as we raise our joint hands to kiss our thumbs, foreheads leaning against each other’s, the tears spill once more. Our hands drop to our sides once again and before I can say anything, Christine wraps her arms around me. Not a word is spoken as we hug, or as we part, or as she pats my back when we move to our positions.

I turn to look at the player I’m marking and come face to face with Kat. Her originally cold glare softens when she notices the drying tears on my cheeks and taps my leg as we wait for the whistle to start the game, a small attempt to try and comfort me.

~~~~~

In the 37th minute, the ball falls at my feet and I don’t hesitate on running forward, making a final pass to Christine for her to shoot, increasing her score from 190 to 191 goals. As the net ripples, I run and jump into her arms before she wraps an arm around my neck and ruffles my hair. The action had become our well known ‘sibling celebration’, and like hell I wasn’t going to experience one last time.

“We’re going to get you a goal too.” She laughs as we reset. I once again fall in my spot in front of Kat, who gives me the first smile of the night.

We’re awarded a corner in the 56th minute. Jessie sets it up and it falls to Christine, who manages to find me, and I manage to find a gap, and the goal. It’s a similar string of events, jumping into Christine’s arms before I wrap my own arm around her neck and mess with her hair. She gets subbed off 3 minutes later and I struggle to let her go as Schmidt comes on. A familiar pat on my leg as we watch her walk off is my only sense of comfort.

~~~~~

After the game ends, and many hugs and celebrations and lots of tears, the toes of my boots meet those of Kat, who has Harper hanging on her hip again.

“I’m sorry I ignored you all day. I didn’t realise how sad I’d be today, and I got so overwhelmed.” I wipe the remaining tears off my cheeks as I finally look into Kat’s eyes, the palladian blue seemingly brighter under the stadium lights.

“It’s okay, I just wished you said something. So we could’ve cheered you up.” Harper reaches out for me as I take Kat’s hand and I pick her up, spinning her around.

“Can I also admit I was nervous? That we were getting too close, and I’d just spill all my feelings to you. But after today I think I shouldn’t waste time fu- fluffing around.” The swear almost slips from my lips but Harper’s tug on my hair reminds me of who’s around.

“I wouldn’t have minded… if you’d let it slip.” Her hand slips into my spare one and we smile at one another as Christine and Hayley approach us.

Christine bends over, resting her hands on her knees, as she comes face to face with Harper.

“Hey chickee, how’d you like my final game.”

“It made mumma sad.” I turn to look at Kat questioningly.

“You were sad?”

“I mean yeah but no where near your level of sad.”

“No no! Not mum, mumma.” Harper’s finger pokes at my cheek and everyone seems to have a matching incredulous look on their face.

“Me?” the girl nods vigorously.

Kat opens her mouth to apologise but I kiss her cheek then Harper’s, and hand the little girl to Christine who wastes no time spinning her around and taking her to play with girls from either team.

“Can I kiss you?” I rush out as I turn to the older woman, her eyes sparkling. She nods and I place my hand on her cheek, leaning down to press our lips together.

“I know this is pretty quick, but will you be my girlfriend?” her warm breath hits my lips and all I can do is kiss her again.

~~~~~

“Come on Harper! Aunty Christine’s already there!” I yell down the hall, Kat rushing past me to pack the orange slices and bottles of water into the car.

The 7-year-old comes rushing out at the sound of her favourite aunt’s name, making a bee-line toward the car.

When we arrive at the field, Harper bounces on the balls of her feet, waiting for Kat and I to get out. Once we have everything, she grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd to find Christine who is getting ready to ref the Under-10s finals.

“Christiiine! Can you help me tie my boots?” I look at Kat, who has just caught up to us.

“We may as well be invisible.” She chuckles and helps me set up our seats as Christine ties Harpers boots and sends her off to warm up.

“She’s going to be playing for The Matildas before you know it.” She says as she passes us.

“Heartbreaking it won’t be the Canadian team.” I retort. Katrina pulls my hand into her lap and rests her head on my shoulder.

“Thank you for helping raise her. Being her other mum.”

“I’d do anything for you two. Anything.” Kat hums and puts more body weight against me.

“You’re so pretty.” I whisper, pecking her nose.

“Not as pretty as you.”

~~~~~

“Katrina! You can’t look! It’s bad luck!” I yell through the door as Jessie helps me get into my dress.

“But I want to see you.” I can hear the pout in her voice, and it takes everything in me not to leave Jessie and rip open the door. It’s Harper who saves me from doing so. I hear her dragging her mum away as my niece ushers me over to put one last pin in my hair. The 15-year-old had some sort of magic for hair, and it was free.

It’s another 20 minutes before the bridesmaids line up, and an additional 5 until I slide into my place next to Christine, who opens her mouth to say something, but seems to choke up and begins to cry. All I do is smile and link our pinkies, and she walks me down the aisle.

As I stand next to Kat in front of our friends and family, holding her hands as she says her vows, I realise how lucky I am. Having these people in my life, meeting the love of my life and having the best daughter. I wouldn’t change a thing. And I say just that.

“When my sister dragged me back onto the pitch to meet you after her second last game, I was so embarrassed and adamant you’d hate me. For no reason. But when I looked into your eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes, I knew. And when Harper laughed as I blushed when Christine basically told everyone I had a crush on you, I knew I wanted her in my life forever too. I’m so grateful for having Christine and Jessie and the whole team. I’m grateful for my family. But I’ll never be as grateful for them as I am for having found you.” I smile a watery smile as Kat cries, and I can’t stop staring and thinking how beautiful she is. We exchange rings and I kiss her like it’s the only thing keeping everyone alive.

“I love you.”

~~~~~

I stand on the sidelines, looking down at my boots and the matching pair that stands firmly next to them. I then reach out my hand and link my pinkie with the girl next to me. Despite the different jerseys, we step over the white line with our right foot in sync. We turn toward each other, and we raise our joint hands to kiss our thumbs, foreheads leaning against each other’s. When I look into Harper’s eyes, I see Katrina’s, and when I think about this moment, my very last game, I think back to that game 13 years ago, saying goodbye to my sister on the pitch, and I smile.

“Good luck chickee.” I press a kiss to Harper’s forehead and take my position, marking the young Gorry.

When the game ends, I fall to my knees. People from both teams dogpile on top of me as we celebrate both the win and my final game. I spend a lot of time talking to everyone before I meet Katrina’s eyes, standing next to my big sister. I run forward and pull them both into a hug.

We eventually head back to the hotel. Kat and I fall back onto our bed, hearing the girls continue celebrating in the hallway.

“I’m so proud of you.” She whispers against my neck, the warm breath sending chills down my spine.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I kiss her gently and pull her closer to me. We spend the rest of the night watching the games at Christine Sinclair Place. The game that got us to confess. The game that changed our lives.

[actual-changeling]

still thinking about scully and mulder always walking like they're tied together and the small ficlet i started writing about it kinda. escalated. to no one's surprise except my own.

suddenly, there is only one room, and stuff is happening. SURELY there will be two usable beds right? right??

gonna throw the beginning out there to see if anyone else is also going more than a little insane over this. don't ask me about the number of my wips. send help

— my ao3—

"What's everyone doing?"

Mulder takes a break from running his hand up and down her spine, apparently looking at more than her for the first time in thirty minutes. She'd expected at least a modicum of weirdness when they tied their legs together—his right and her left, not that it makes much of a difference either way—but outside of the slight pressure winding up her calves, it feels, well, normal.

"Making plans, Mulder, coming up with a strategy to win," she replies quietly, her eyes roaming over their competition. In a room full of FBI agents, any kind of physical exercise usually created a very broad middle field with only a small distance to the first three or five pairs. After winning the paper bridge task (she has a degree in physics, after all) and absolutely destroying everyone else at charades and partner trivia, most teams seem to be looking forward to seeing them lose.

'Team-building seminars' seldom bring the agents together as such, rather creating a low-level animosity that will prevail for a month or two after it is over. Considering that everyone already harbours resentment towards them, both mocking and angry, they don't have to worry about pissing off the wrong people.

"Plans? What's there to plan? You walk or run, whatever. It's a race, Scully."

He almost sounds insulted that they expect them to prepare, and if she weren't already literally bound to him, she'd inch closer; her cheek still finds its way to his shoulder, the scent of shared hotel soap sending a shiver down her back. 

For once, the FBI had booked one room with two beds for each pair of agents—presumably because otherwise they'd run out of space (and money). After arriving around noon, they'd had time for one quick shower each before being forced into a conference room, and the thought of returning to a shared room in less than three hours made her skin itch in a not-unwelcome way.

Mulder absently wraps his arm around her again, joining her in watching more than a few teams try and fail to tie themselves together. Whenever he lets out a low laugh, she can feel it vibrate within her own chest, and the sensation is just as familiar as the curve of his smile. She cannot remember the details of her physical existence before him. Somehow, without either of them noticing, they have grown so reliant on always having each other in arm's reach that they'd stumble and fall if they were to find nothing but absence.

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

Hi! sorry if this is wordy but could you make a story of the reader being an fbi agent undercover as skz personal bodyguard? Skz are having a concert soon and this evil organization wants to harm them. It is the readers mission to keep the members safe. But with the distraction of a specific loud and short muscular guy of the group, she gains feelings and struggles to do her task.

As long as this is the main point of the story, I don't mind with what you add. Be as creative as you like with action, romance, or anything.

ihfvnirhfnjnfoernfrihbgt jhebfrherkjfnkrjtgng hehehe

Thank you!

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Changbin x FBI Agent!fem!reader Genre: action? >.> Angst (im so bad at writing that) Fluff >.> Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: Cringe T_T, not proofread (they never are.), parent death, REVENGE, reader is shorter than changbin >.>, guns, bombs, someone gets shot (not reader or stray kids.), brief horny reader, i think thats it? tell me i missed anything

A/N: AHHH THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I FEEL LIKE ITS SO BAD AND CRINGE IM SO SORRY UH if you do like it (i really hope you do) please consider reblogging and following ALSO TAGLIST APPLICATIONS >.>

December 19th 2005 "Several bombs were set off at the University of Music last night, there is a total of 59 casualties and counting as authorities work through the rubble. 80 more are critically injured and 127 are in stable condition or have minor injuries."

Janurary 17th 2008 "This is your new home."

"Guys this is Y/N.. She's going to be your sister from now on."

August 3rd 2010 "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I want to be a police woman so I can find the person who hurt people a long time ago..

You stared at the case, "So they fled to Seoul?"

"Not just that." Your boss said, "We found this." he set a phone on your desk and pressed the play button on an audio recording.

"How should we go about it?"

"The security is tight, if we put the bombs on the little drones and get the crowd scared, we have an opening to get the people on the stage."

You sucked in a breath. "A bomb threat for-"

"A concert." Your boss sighed deeply, "I trust you to handle it. Without being reckless."

"Sir-"

"It would be best if you did it, considering your experience with these types of events." He motioned to the posters and merchandise littering your office walls and shelves.

You pursed your lips. "Where and when?"

"We're flying you out to the US embassy in Seoul tomorrow , you'll meet someone there." He said with a big smile, "Pack your bags, Special Agent L/N, you're going to Korea."

You had arrived at the US embassy in Seoul at 4:30 am, you learned from the person you met up with you were going to be protecting a k-pop boy group under JYP Entertainment.

"So, this terrorist group wants to attack a boy band?" You looked at the embassy worker.

She nodded, "But it's not about them, for the most part... they want to prove something apparently, did they not attack several concerts in the US?"

"They did." You nodded.

"Then it's not too crazy to assume they want to get some point across world wide." The woman shook her head, "It's alright though, you're going to meet them later in the morning."

"Meet who?" You tilted your head.

The woman blinked slowly at you. "Stray Kids.."

"Who?" You had to hold back your laughter.

"The boy band under JYPE."

"Ah." You cleared your throat. "Alright."

"It must have been a long flight." She smiled, "You can go to your hotel now."

When you got to your hotel room you sat on the bed, laptop open, looking for "Stray Kids". You made a face as you saw their pictures, a particular image caught your attention and you burst out laughing at the sight. He was a short, muscular man, with unruly dark hair under a hat with floppy bunny ears, You copied the image into google image search and said the name softly. "Seo Changbin."

Felix looked like he was going to cry, Hyunjin bit his bottom lip looking at the ground.

"They want to bomb our concert..." I.N asked quietly.

"Hurt our STAY..." Lee Know twiddled his fingers.

"Safest option is to cancel." Chan sighed.

"We can't cancel a concert a month before it's supposed to happen," their manager said, "The company hasn't got the time or money to return everything. Besides, boss said he has it handled."

Changbin looked up, "JYP handled it?"

"No," the manager made a face.

"Then why would you say that?" Seungmin pursed his lips.

"He found someone who can handle it." the manger explained. "That's why we're here for breakfast, she arrived in Seoul earlier."

"Who?" Han asked.

"She should be on the way here." the manager said as a waitress arrived with coffee.

"She?" The boys all asked at the same time.

It was at that time you walked in, you were dressed fairly professionally, a white button up shirt tucked into black pleated slacks and pretty black heels.

"I'm Y/N L/N," You smiled at the men.

"Hi, thanks for coming. Coffee?" The manager offered.

You shook your head.

"Please sit," he motioned to the last seat.

You sat beside a man you remembered as Hyunjin, his long hair pulled back with his bangs on either side of his face. He eyed you incredulously for a moment before you shifted slightly, making the taser you'd carefully tucked into your pants visible. He bristled.

"This is the person who's going to handle it?" Felix asked the manager. "We take STAY very seriously, if something happens-"

"I assure you nothing will go wrong, though, I doubt the people i'm looking for are really aiming for.. STAY..." You put your phone on the table and let the audio recording your boss gave you play.

The leader of the group, Chan, looked scared. Felix put his head in his hands and Minho hugged him.

"So..." Seungmin said quietly. "What happens now?"

"She's going to live with you until she figures out the threat. Please boys, I hope your dorm is clean." The manager said, sipping his coffee.

Chan turned slowly to Han.

Han huffed a small laugh. "Of course.."

"TADA!" Changbin shouted as he opened the door to the dorm.

You walked in looking around, the place was fairly secure. Changbin smiled brightly, shouting "Your room!"

He opened the door to a room that looked like it was cleaned rather hastily. You nodded, going into the room the boys had cleared out for you, you chuckled as you recalled how you'd seen Changbin and Han playing rock paper scissors for who would give away their room, Han lost.

You had sat in your room most of the rest of the day, then you got hungry, only then did you notice how dark it was outside. You considered ordering food but then dismissed the idea, what if these people found out where the boys lived. That was a big no.

You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and into the kitchen, you opened the fridge making a face and grabbing eggs. You got noodles from the cabinet and got to work making something easy.

It was late, almost midnight, so you hadn't expected any one to be awake. So it scared you when the loud, boisterous Changbin spoke quietly next to you.

"Is there enough to share?" He whispered.

You almost jumped out of your skin. "What the fuck?!" You whisper-shouted, clutching your heart.

"Sorry, I smelled food.." he laughed lightly, watching as you worked. "You know how to cook?"

You hummed. "I know how to not get food poisoning."

He laughed. "Let me help?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but the man was already moving around the kitchen grabbing things. You couldn't stop staring at the way his muscles strained against his shirt.

Get your head in the game. You shook off the thoughts that were invading your head as you stared at his arms.. My head could be in a headlock there... WHAT ARE YOU THINKING????!!!

You left the noodles aside and started frying the eggs, semi-watching as Changbin made instant tteokbokki.

When you both finished, he sat with you and ate.

"Y'know I expected cops to be more serious." he said, before putting some noodles in his mouth and jumping at the taste.

You made a face. "I'm serious."

He looked at you. "Let's be real here."

"I'm so serious." You pouted before popping a rice cake into your mouth.

"Uh huh." He teased.

You rolled your eyes. "I was under the impression that a dark rapper should be moody and brooding."

He made a face. "They call me baby Changbin as well."

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the picture. "Of course," a smirk came to your face. "I should invest in Dwaekki."

Changbin looked up from his tteokbokki. "Have you even listened to our music?"

"I can start." You said proudly.

Changbin stared at you for a moment. "Whatever you say, Princess."

It wasn't even two weeks after you had met the boys something happened. You were on the couch in dorm 1, writing an email on your laptop.

Chan poked your head, "We're going to practice choreo."

You shoved your computer into your backpack and followed the boys out. You got to the dance studio and looked around curiously at the big room, a mirror covered the full length of the wall opposite the door.

It was the mirror that let you see it.

You whipped around just as the person at the door fled.

Changbin stared at you in confusion as you blitzed past, running after the person. It didn't take you too long to catch up, tackling the man to the floor of the hall just before the lobby and grabbing his badge.

You remembered what the manager had told you, all the badges were recently issued in an off white color...

You held the man down, pulling his arm in an awkward position. "Try me and I'll break it. Who the fuck are you?"

The man stuttered before shouting.

Your brows furrowed. "That's not going to wo-" You stared in confusion as a firework looking object rolled towards you.

Then it popped.

A loud bang resounded through the lobby and you instinctively covered your ears, stunned. Your ears were ringing.

The man pushed you off and ran for it. You were about to get up and run after him but that Changbin...

He grabbed your shoulders and shouted at you a few times, then Chan pushed him looking at you with wide eyes for a moment.

Changbin sat with Chan, listening to what the doctor said about your ears, you'd be fine, it was just a very loud sound, the doctor recommended quiet for a few days to stop the background ringing.

Licing with Changbin, Chan, and Han let you know that they really couldn't be quiet, in the dorm, only Hyunjin was ever not shouting. But the moment you walked in, that changed. Changbin and Han were quiet, the others from dorm 2 were all staring at you.

"What?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Are you okay?" I.N asked.

"Oh, of course." You smiled. "I just almost lost my ability to hear."

Lee Know sighed and looked at you. "We're sorry to put you through this."

"Put me through what." You raised a brow before sitting down. "You guys didn't put me through anything. This is what I do."

The boys all stared at you for a moment.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Han broke the silence.

You smiled slightly. "Hey hey hey. We just met. Back up chipmunk."

"Squirrel." Seungmin corrected, laughing.

"It's a quokka!" Han groaned.

You spent almost two weeks researching the group that had threatened the concert. Most of the time the dorm was quiet, Changbin was usually the only one awake when you were up. He would usually eat late night snacks with you or hover over your shoulder as you worked. In most cases it would make you uncomfortable, but with Changbin it was different.

You watched as the group prepared for the concert, weeks dwindling into days. It was two days before the concert, you were sitting on the couch, it was almost 3 in the morning but you were making calls and asking about security and establishing that no bags would be allowed into the concert.

Changbin watched you for a moment, leaning against the wall.

"No bags of any kind." You sounded so professional.

He smiled and walked over to the couch standing over you as you continued talking to the person on the phone.

"Clear diaper bags?" You sucked in a breath. "Why would a baby be at a- Never mind, leave it on hold for now."

Changbin tapped your head. He looked down at you, dark glasses framing his eyes, his hair looking unruly.

You leaned your head back and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow as if you were already aware of his presence. "No, backstage should be secure. I'll be there myself."

Changbin huffed a small laugh. "You're going to protect me princess?"

Despite your blank expression you felt the blush creeping to your face.

Changbin smiled at you muttering, "I want to take you out."

You stared at him as the person on the other end of the line said something to you. "Uh- Repeat that...?" You asked both the people you spoke to.

"Are we still doing the drones?"

"So will you go out with me after the concert?" Changbin leaned down, his face was so close.

"Yes." You answered.

"Alright ma'am." The person on the other end said. "Will that be all?"

"Yeah..." You hung up the phone and looked at Changbin.

He smiled and leaned down, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips against your forehead gently. "It's late, go to sleep."

He pulled away and walked back to his room, you sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly.

Focus...

You were almost as busy as the manager the day of the concert, running back and forth making sure metal detectors were working and security was extra tight.

"You're taking this very personally." A security guard said behind you.

You looked at you the man. "These are terrorists we're talking about. Of course I'm taking it personally."

One of the staff walked past you with coffees in his hand.

You stopped them. "Where to?"

"Hyunjin, Han and Chan asked for coffee." the man said, looking at you, you noted the mole beside his eyebrow.

"I'll take it." You moved to take the coffee.

"No ma'am. You're very busy-"

You tried to grab the coffee and he turned away quickly. You managed to knock it out of his hand. The cups scattered, empty.

He turned and elbowed the security guard hard as he lunged for him and the man started running. You barely caught the stumbling guard, settling him down before started chasing him, pulling up your walkie talkie you said into it, "Gate 4 check?"

"Good check," Came a flurry of voices through the walkie talkie.

"Lock down on gate 4, all security personnel on west wing on alert."

"Copy."

"Backstage security, do you copy?" You said barely dodging someone pushing a huge sound system.

"Loud and clear."

You cursed as people pulling a big screen moved between you and the man. "FUCK MOVE!" You snapped and they scurried out of your way. Much to your utter horror and dismay, the man was gone. The door to the outside of the backstage area wide open, leading into th lines of people waiting to enter the conert.

You kicked a trashcan, "All units do you copy?"

"Copy."

"Keep your eyes open, goldilocks."

"10-4." they all said and your eyes narrowed as you stared at the door.

You sat outside the dressing rooms twiddling your thumbs. Was it really safe... were you just stupid...? You bit your lip, feeling tears brimming in your eyes at the thought of letting these people bomb this concert full of innocent people.

You looked up as you the sound of footsteps. It was just Changbin, he looked much different, more like those pictures you'd seen online, with his tight, shiny, black leather pants and dress shirt that hugged his arms so perfectly, the black vest and fingerless gloves giving him a scary edge. You quickly wiped your eyes and sucked in a breath. "What?"

"What's wrong?" He kneeled in front of you, being more able to move in the pants that you'd thought originally.

"It's nothing." You lied.

His eyes narrowed at you. "You're going to make my perform badly, I can't perform if I feel bad. I'll mess up rapping, Seungmin might do better than me."

You giggled and looked down as he took your hands in his. "I'm scared." You whispered.

"Of?" he prodded quietly.

"There are really dangerous people here, and I fucked up and lost one." You muttered.

"It's okay." He squeezed your hands gently, moving to sit next to you. "If you can't protect all these people, Chan will protect them all himself."

You smiled gently.

"Hug?" Changbin opened his arms and you leaned into him. You relaxed as he hugged you.

"And I said 'There's no way! It's ok YOU EAT~' " Jisung and Jeongin came around the corner and paused.

Jeongin tried to grab Jisung and turn him around but the man smirked and cleared his throat.

You pulled away from Changbin and stood. "Good luck. Uh, get down if something happens."

You sat there off to the backside of the stage hearing the loud music and screams as boys got on stage. In all your time watching the boys practice there was something about actually seeing them on stage as Hyunjin had told you in the dorm.

"Being in the practice room is one thing. Actually being on stage is another thing, there's an energy we get in front of our STAY."

You were particularly amazed at the volume of the girls who shrieked when Felix started singing, his deep voice reverberating through the dome. You couldn't help but marvel at Changbin for a moment, the way his muscles strained against his clothes as he danced, his hips moving so seductively... FOCUS!...But it's fine isn't it... nothing has happened yet..

The stage lights reddened and you looked up as the drones filled the air, flashing lights everywhere. You exhaled slowly, realizing everything was fine with the drones. After finishing off S-Class Chan calmed down the crows and stared to say a few words.

A scream ripped through the soft buzz of the crowd. You looked in the direction of the scream, Chan raised a brow, opening his mouth to say something and then...

"HE HAS A GUN!" On the opposite side of the huge hall.

You jumped over the railing.

All your time studying these people.

Fear.

Ease.

You ran up the stairs to the stage.

Unrest.

And a big boom..

You grabbed the mic from Chan and shouted, "GET DOWN!"

And the first bomb exploded.

You had your ears covered, head down. There was someone there shielding you, you heard him shouting and knew.

"We have to go!" Changbin shouted.

Chan was staring at the crowd, which was frantic after the series of explosions, many of them were running for the exits. "We should've cancelled..."

You saw a red light flashing on a wall, and a man moving away quickly.

You got from under Changbin, who tried pulling you back but you were already sprinting off the stage. You ran into the crowd, pulling out your gun as you shoved past the scared fans.

The man was so close to the exit, you were going to lose him. Lose another, because you lost focus.

You heard a deep voice, it sounded like it was crying.

"STAY! LISTEN TO ME!" Felix shouted into the mic.

The crowd was still moving.

"THE BOMBS WILL KEEP GOING OFF IF YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND SO STOP!"

The crowd stopped and you looked at the stage, your eyes meeting Felix's as he dropped the mic.

You ran through the crowd toward the red light and grabbed it tossing it out of the open door far from the crowd. The police were already gathering and you turned to see the man moving through the crowd for the door.

You pushed past the people and tackled him gun to the back of his head. "Don't move. I'll shoot." You said.

You sat on your bed, staring at your hands. What type of shit was this...?

"Who gives you orders?" You and a police man had interrogated the man yu had caught for almost two hours but he refused to speak.

"My boss isn't afraid of my death." he huffed.

You grit your teeth, "Who is your damn boss?"

"I won't say anything."

and maybe you punched him a little too hard.

A knock on your door made you look up. "Come in."

Hyunjin entered and closed the door quietly, behind himself, walking over to you. "You did well." he said quietly.

You saw the tears filling his eyes. "Hyunjin..."

He got on knees beside your bed and took your hands in his muttering. "You're doing well... Thank you."

You touched his head and whispered, "It's what I do.. It's okay... I'd do it again without hesitation.."

He shook his head. "You fit in so perfectly, you fill the cracks that we haven't been able to fill," He looked up at you and smiled, "Thank you for being our sister... Thank you for saving our STAY.."

You hugged Hyunjin. "Don't cry, you idiot..."

He sniffled and nodded. "But really.. thank you."

You smiled, "Of course."

Following Hyunjin out you stared at the other members who also looked like they had been crying.

"You caught someone.." Seungmin said quietly. "Does that mean you're leaving us?"

You stared at the boys for a moment, your gaze lingering on Changbin.

"I caught someone." You said quietly. "But my job isn't finished until you're safe.."

Felix was the first to hug you. and then suddenly you were attacked by all of them in a big bearhug.

"You're one of us." Chan smiled, "Don't go back."

You looked at all the boys and for the first time since you got here, you let the tears fall.

Changbin ended up not taking you out due to the lockdown placed on the group by their boss, it didn't stop him from spoiling you, in the building, he came to your room with flowers and (fav candy). He would bring you food and bought you a few clothes he thought you'd look good in.

Everytime he'd surprise you while you were working, Jisung would give you a look. The kind of look that said, "I KNOW WHAT YOU TWO ARE", but was completely wrong, because even you didn't know what you and Changbin were.

You were sitting in at the kitchen table staring at your laptop, it wasn't too late, just around 10pm, but the noise that met your ears made you flinch. Han and Hyunjin came in shaking you wildly as Han shoved his phone in your face.

You grabbed it and made a face. "ARE YOU DONE?"

"LOOK!" They shouted back.

You looked at the screen and your eyes widened. "Is that me?"

There was a video, of the events from a few days ago.

"GET DOWN!"

there was a series of loud bangs and a fast forward, of you grabbing the bomb and throwing it out. Then another fast forward to you tackling the man.

You stared at the comments.

"such a strong woman"

"Our savior."

"why did binnie grab for her like that 😭"

"are we gonna ignore how felix calmed the crowd.?"

You pursed your lips, "I was doing my job."

"You saved them though." Han smiled. "You should come with us later when we can go out as a treat. Chan will pay."

Hyunjin cackled.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, "Alright."

You sat in your room, when your phone rang, you answered.

"We've got a name and a face. We've sent you the necessary info. When you close the case contact us, we'll book you the next flight back to the US."

and the line cut.

You stared out blankly for a while.. so soon?

And when you opened the email you were sent your ear throbbed at the memory of nearly going deaf... That man... you'd tackled that man and he set off the firework that nearly took your hearing.

"Ah Changbin." Minho sighed. "Look at you. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Seriously." Chan smiled. "Just, tell her how you feel. She's Fiona and you're Shrek."

"You need to hit her with the immature swag." Jisung snickered.

"You-" Changbin raised his hand like he was going to punch the man.

Jisung ducked behind Chan.

"What am i supposed to say hm? 'I think you're strong and really pretty and I want to go out with you.' Seems a little eh?"

Chan cringed.

Han just stared at him.

"I like the Shrek and Fiona thing better." Minho shrugged.

"Changbin just wing it." Chan gave him a thumbs up.

You opened your door in the morning and almost stumbled over a box. "What in the world?"

You picked it up and examined it for a moment. You took it into your room and set it on the bed, carefully you lifted off the lid and stared at (fav color) dress. You took it out and smiled at it a little. You noticed the card at the bottom of the box and picked it up.

Your smile grew as you recognized the writing as Changbin's,

I think this dress fits you just right, wait for me outside at 7 tonight.

You rolled your eyes at his poetic nonsense and stared at the dress.

Hyunjin and Jisung were all over you at 6 pm, pampering you and making you look as pretty as they could.

"You look so gorgeous! I'm a master!" Hyunjin said proudly.

Han gasped exaggeratedly, "Are you saying she only looks good because you did her makeup?!"

You gasped with Jisung. "I thought you were my friend Hyunjinnie!"

"Oh- Oh MY GOD!" Hyunjin groaned before giving Han a side eye.

You giggled and looked at yourself in the mirror, you were really pretty.

"It's 6:45." Han sighed smiling at you, "Our Y/N is all grown up."

hyunjin wiped fake tears. "I'm so proud."

You made a face and rolled your eyes, standing and smoothing your dress, you hummed as you patted down the area where your gun sat on your thigh, just in case, and you grabbed your bag and went to the door.

You only waited about five minutes before Changbin pulled up in front of the building with a sleek, black company car.

"You look pretty." he said as he stepped out of the vehicle and came around to open the door for you.

You smiled. "Thank you, you good too." You stepped into the car and giggled, "Such a gentleman."

Changbin took you to a fancy restaurant and after you ordered, the conversation flowed so smoothly. Even the silence was comfortable, but you noticed it from the corner of your eye.

Two men, sitting at a table a few back from yours, eyeing you... no. eyeing Changbin. When the server came and poured your wine you paid close attention..

Using his right hand he turned the bottle to the left when he poured the wine for your but to the right Changbin.

You swallowed and looked at your wine, something was going to happen.

The thought left your mind when Changbin took your hand in his and smiled. "Y'know during my last stream, STAY kept asking if you were my girlfriend. I couldn't exactly say."

You blushed slightly, "What did you want to tell them?"

"Yes, I'm dating her." He laughed slightly, "Though, since it's jsut me and you," he squeezed your hand gently, "I can say you're only mine."

You blushed even more and laughed. "You're so stupid."

"I think you'd really like only belonging to me, I wouldn't let any guy touch you, I'd buy you food and spoil you."

"You do that anyway, Binnie." You smiled slightly.

He leaned close and whispered, "I guess that makes you mine."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Changbin stared into your eyes and leaned in close, his lips gently brushing against yours. All thought left your mind, it was just Changbin.. but..

You heard the dull click, and whipped around, pulling your gun from the holster under your dress, just as one of the men from the other table, cocked his gun.

You were faster and fired. The man fell back and Changbin grabbed you, pulling you back as the other man sprang up, he pointed a gun at you and it was a intense stare down.

You held your breath. Changbin remain unmoving behind you.

Your heart stopped as a white car pulled up in front of the restaurant. "Changbin get down!"

Changbin kicked the tabled over and grabbed you pulling you back with him as bullets flew through the dining room.

It was a long moment before they stopped, and as you peeked over the table, you locked eyes with the man from the picture, pulling his gun back into the car and smiling at you before they drove away. (Insert evil villain name cus I couldnt think of one)..

The boys were on lockdown again and you were busy, searching everything, everywhere for that man.. for (villain name).

You'd moved to the other dorm, much to the dismay of Hyunjin, who moped about being surrounded by gym freaks.

You took Seungmin's room, which was tidier than Han's. You hadn't moved because you needed quiet, in fact they boys had been quite good at being silent while you worked. It was because you didn't trust yourself, you were scared you wouldn't react as fast as you had at the restaurant with Changbin, you were scared he'd become a worse distraction... you were scared he'd get hurt because of you.

After a month, your informant intercepted another message saying that the man you were looking for was going to a shopping mall to put things up with a bang.

You discussed with the manager, he increased security to compensate for you not being present in the dorms and allowed you to go.

So there you were, sitting in your car outside the mall, staring at the entrance for anything suspicious. You remembered how Changbin had asked you what was wrong when you left, and where you were going...

"You're going alone?" His brows furrowed. "Y/N, be serious, things could happen-"

"What do you want me to do? I'm dragging anymore people into this."

"I'm not asking you to, I just want you to be safe."

"I'm here to protect you and the guys. It's not my choice what I do anymore, this has gotten too out of hand. You can't even go outside without the fear that someone might try to kill you! That's my fault."

"Take me with you then, I'm not afraid of it, I just don't trust the idea of you being alone!"

"Seo Changbin. I'm doing my job. It's not just about you and them anymore."

You pursed your lips and looked at your phone, tempted to say you were sorry..

but your phone rang before you could even take action.

Your brows furrowed, it was an unknown number.

You answered and lifted the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"I'm glad we could lure you out. I like this game we're playing. Cat and mouse is fun no? It's a two party game. I have to eliminate the extra players, they're taking away my fun. If you involve the police... well that won't be fun."

"What?" You sat up straight.

"I'm not that cruel anyway... I'll give you 30 minutes."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. "WAIT!"

"Starting now."

The man hung up and you stared at your phone for a moment. "Changbin..."

Yongbok stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair and he tilted his head as Chan sat down with a box on the floor. "What's that?"

"I was going to ask you." Chan said.

Seungmin stared at it. "It has a bad aura about it."

"Since when did you care about that?" Hyunjin looked up from his phone.

"We should open it." Jisung sat beside Chan.

"But-" Jeongin started.

"Didn't Y/N say don't be stupid while she's gone." Changbin said, glaring at the others.

They all nodded.

Minho sat on Chan's other side. "Opening a box isn't stupid."

"I agree." Hyunjin said.

"Guys-" Felix started.

"It's fine Yongbok." Minho said and pulled the lid of the box off.

Chan's brows furrowed, every one sucked in a breath.

"Fuck." Changbin said.

A timer sat in the box on top of a black thing bound with plastic straps, it read 15:50...

Changbin's phone rang. Everyone jumped in fear. His eyes widened as he saw you name. "Y/N- Calm down I can't understand-"

"PUT HER ON SPEAKER!" Felix shouted.

Changbin did as he was told.

You sounded on the verge of tears. "Did you get it?"

Chan looked at the box. "Yeah... We got it."

"I won't make it." You sniffed, "I need you to get scissors and listen carefully."

Jeongin ran to get scissors.

"Someone with steady hands. Listen close. There's no mistakes right now. This isn't acting."

Chan took the scissors from Jeongin and nodded, "I'm listening."

"Remove the timer by cutting the plastic straps. Be careful not to cut the wire surrounding them."

"Are we diffusing a bomb right now?!" Hyunjin shrieked.

"I CAN'T MAKE IT THERE IN TIME THERE'S TOO MUCH TRAFFIC! I CAN'T CALL THE POLICE AND NEITHER CAN ANY OF YOU!"

Chan cut the plastic binding, exposing the explosive and a few more wires.

"There should be a blue wire leading into the bomb directly."

"I see it."

"Cut it."

The boys watched in fear as their leader cut the blue wire.

"Black then grey."

"ok..."

"What's left?"

"Green, red, orange, and purple."

"Purple."

Another cut.

"Orange."

"Now what...?"

"Someone needs to push the button on the back of the timer for 5 seconds. It will give you a 20 second window to cut the last wire."

"What's the last one?" Minho asked.

"Whichever leads to the center of the explosive."

You met silence on the other end of the line before Jisung's voice said, "They both lead to the center..."

You sucked in a breath. "Wait for me."

"We don't have time to wait!" Seungmin shouted.

"How much time is left?!"

"2 minutes!" Felix said.

You slammed the steering wheel and cursed loudly.

Changbin stared at the bomb for a long moment as the members began freaking out.

Hyunjin pulled out his phone and opened instagram starting a stream. "Stay, I love you, we love you!"

"Tell my parents I love them." Jeongin sobbed.

"Chan push the button." Changbin grabbed the scissors.

"Changbin!" You shouted.

"Green means go." Changbin said as Chan pushed the button. "STAY, we love you. Y/N, I love you."

And he cut the green wire.

You heard a loud bang and the line went dead, your heart plummeted. You finally pulled off the highway and into the parking around the dorms. You ran to the dorm and-

Changbin hugged you tightly as you opened the door.

Your hands trembled before you hugged him back. "I thought you died."

"You were that worried about me." He muttered into your hair.

"Yes.."

Jisung coughed loudly, earning a punch from Minho.

You laughed and pulled away from Changbin, arms open.

You shrieked as Chan bear hugged you and then everyone was on you.

As you laughed you saw someone in the hall shaking their head. You pulled away as the man started running.

And you took off running after him. Not this time. You wouldn't let him get away again. You jumped onto him just as he got to the stairs, he stumbled and fell with you. You felt the cold metal of a gun barrel brush your arm and bit down on his arm hard.

The gun fell away and skidded away. You hit the landing platform hard, your shoulder taking the brunt of the force before you rolled for the gun.

You thought about a statement you'd heard from your boss months ago. I trust you to handle it. Without being reckless.

Why were you reckless? Why did you never give a shit what happened as long as you caught the criminal..? Because you didn't care then. Because it was your job... your obligation.

What was it now?

The man grabbed your leg and dragged you towards him and you kicked his face hard.

You scrambled with your opportunity for the gun.

Your fingers wrapped around the grip, as the man dragged you back towards him..

and it all seemed to go in slow motion as the boys came down after you. And the man's hands wrapped around your throat. You held the gun to his head and shouted with the last of your breath as he squeezed your windpipe, "BANG!"

and you pulled the trigger.

17 years ago December 19th 2005..

"Shh, she might hear."

"The gifts are better down by the college anyway."

"Honey. You're being loud."

"Fine fine."

You heard them giggling before you poked your head outside your room. You watched your parents leaving the house. You smiled to yourself knowing they were going to buy Christmas gifts.

When the morning came and your parents weren't in their room, you became confused. In the snow, dressed in your pajamas and bunny slippers you went to your neighbors house to ask if they'd seen your parents.

The little old lady next door stared at you before the tears welled in her eyes, "You poor thing.."

You were only 5 when your parents died. You were only 5 when you learned what it meant to yearn for revenge. You'd spent all your years in the force since you were 17 trying to find the organization behind the bombs...

And you were today many years old when you learned revenge wasn't a liberating feeling.

"BANG!"

BANG!

The boys stared in shock as you pushed the man's body off of you and sat there. Changbin didn't hesitate to run and wrap his arms around you, examining your face before looking into your eyes.

"Y/n... y/nnie?"

And you passed out.

The past week had been a blur of appointments with press and a million other things.

It was Friday you finally got to lie down and breathe.

You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling when you got a call. You rolled over and answered the phone. Your boss's voice came to your ears.

"Good job, L/N. We're glad you could do it. We're booking your flight back to the US already."

"Sir-"

"You'll be receiving a promotion to a less risky position as a token of our gratitude."

Changbin entered your room and stared at you.

"I can't-" you tried.

"I have to admit I myself am shocked, L/N you've proved your reckless behavior is productive and I owe you-"

"SIR I QUIT!"

The other end of the line went quiet.

Changbin sat beside you and pulled you against him.

"I- I accomplished what I wanted. I'm pretty young still. I'll go to college. It's time I change careers."

Your boss was quiet on the other end of the line.

"Consider this my resignation letter. It was an honor. But i can't be reckless anymore."

The boys were poking their heads into your room now.

You looked at them all and smiled.

"I have something... some people..." You leaned against Changbin. "Someone... I want to keep living for."

"We'll send your pay for the case..." Your boss said softly. "I'm glad I met you L/N, it was an honor to have you in the force."

You lowered the phone and hung up.

"Soo....?" Minho said, looking at the others. "She's NOT going back to the US?"

"No Minho. I'm here to stay."

The boys cheered and jumped. You smiled slightly and looked at Changbin.

He leaned in and kissed you.

You blinked. Stunned.

Jisung jumped and held his hands out to Hyunjin "5000 PUT EM IN MY HAND! ALL OF YOU!"

You stared at them for a moment, "You were-"

"Green is green!" Jisung ran away cackling.

You laughed and shook your head. "I love you guys."

"I think you love me most." Changbin said and kissed your cheek.

"I love you just a little bit more than them."

He rolled his eyes as the others ran shouting about their money. "I love you."

You hadn't gotten the feeling you dreamed for in revenge but in them... in Changbin you found something more.

"STOP BEING LOVE BIRDS AND MAKE THEM GIVE ME MY MONEY!" Jisung shouted.

[allyricas]

Moving On pt. 2

part one

3,180k words

The day of the trip to Indy finally arrives and the weather does not reflect the excitement Steve feels as he loads his last bag into the trunk of his car. He knows he overpacked but wants to be ready for anything. He also has a cooler full of drinks and sandwiches along with enough junk food to make anyone sick.

He and Robin had decided to make sure they had plenty of food so they could settle in to their hotel and chill the first night. Robin had an early campus tour and Steve had a meeting with an advisor at the community college he’d be taking his cosmetology courses. They had a packed schedule considering they needed to find an apartment and jobs (together if possible) and the urge to scope out the gay scene. Or find it, at the very least.  

Steve pulled into Robin’s driveway and saw that she’d also slightly overpacked. Two halves of the same soul, the two of them. He got out and helped her load up her bags. She was holding a thermos of something and wearing a pair of Steve’s sweatpants. That’s where those went. He’d been looking for them for a week. Robin had a tendency to steal his clothes which mostly just made Steve feel all loved and shit, so he only complained for appearance’s sake.  

“Rob, my fucking sweatpants. Come on, I’ve been looking for them.” He whined. He truly didn’t mean it all.  

“Shut up, they are my pants now. They look hotter on me.” She laughed, doing a pathetic little shimmy. She was not a morning person. The messy bed head and the large amount of coffee she was inhaling made this apparent. “I am so tired, but really fucking excited. I brought the music. You are banned for the entire drive up and back. I will fucking jump out of this car if you play any sad, pining music. This is fun time not sad boy time.”   

“That tape has Whitney and George Michael on it. It’s not a total sad fest.”  

“Liar. You cry the most whenever careless whisper comes on.” Robin replied viciously.  

“Let’s uh, not talk about that please.” Steve knew he was still whining a bit, but Robbie was mean in the morning.  

The drive up went smoothly despite the terrible weather. Fifteen minutes into the drive, it started to torrentially rain. Thunder shook the car and lightning lit up the sky. Robin did in fact have all upbeat music and refused to let Steve play anything remotely sad. This was good as he was feeling rather happy in the moment. At one point it rained so hard, Steve had to pull over and wait for it to slow down as Robin started hyperventilating. What should have been an hour and fifteen-minute drive took three hours, but time spent with his best friend was always good.  

Navigating the city was invigorating (for Steve) and anxiety inducing (for Robin), but they both could barely contain their excitement when they finally pulled up to the motel they're staying at. It’s a little mom and pop place that Joyce and Hop had recommended. Why those two have a favorite motel in the city, Steve doesn't want to think to much about.

It’s a cute place, white shutters and soft yellow paint with a rustic looking sign that says The Mosey Inn. The rooms were entered from the outside, with parking all around the place. There were plants everywhere and everything had a well-loved appeal. It’s a rather nice little place. He goes in to check them in and there is an older woman at the desk. She's one of those people who radiates kindness and Steve likes her right away.  

“Hello there, dear. Welcome to the Mosey Inn. I’m one-half of Mosey, but you can call me Elise.” She’s smiling softly at him as he walks up to the desk. 

“Hi, I have a reservation for Harrington. For a suite with two queens.” He finds he’s nervous which feels silly. He grew up checking into hotels and dealing with reservations. Usually, it was at swanky hotels that his parents would leave him in before he was old enough to be all alone at home.  

“Of course, sweetie. Joyce and that sweet Jimmy told me all about you the last time they visited for the weekend. I just adore them. Jimmy did some handy work for me and the missus last time they were here. We’re getting up there in age and my Maggie cannot be climbing ladders anymore. I always give them a discount and I like the look of you, dear. I’ll give you one too.”

She’s beaming at Steve like she is thrilled to meet him which is not something he’s exactly used to. He’s thinking over what she said. The missus, her Maggie. He looks around the room and spots a tiny pink triangle on a bookshelf. Oh. This was a safe place. He owed Hop and Joyce dinner because this was the nicest surprise he’d gotten in a long time. He'd definitely be calling Hopper by the nickname Jimmy though.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I know my friend Robin and I are going to enjoy this trip even more now knowing this is a safe place for people like us.” That felt as close to telling a stranger he was gay he could manage, but it felt huge to say it. It meant something to find this little piece of community with two women who were old enough to be his grandmothers. He felt like he might cry and for once, there were happy tears brimming in his eyes.  

“Please, call me Elise. There’s no ma’am, none of that uppity nonsense. This place is for friends, you understand.” She told him in a voice so genuine that Steve choked back a sob. He handed over his credit card and she handed him two room keys. “We offer breakfast and lunch, usually buffet style unless we say otherwise. There’s a coffee station around the corner and there’s always some sort of snacks next to it. If you need anything just give us a ring. Feel free to come chat anytime. Enjoy your stay.” 

“I think I will, Elise. I’ll bring Robin around to meet you once we’re settled, probably for breakfast tomorrow!” 

_________________________________________

As soon as Steve got back into the car, he excitedly told Robin all about Elise and her partner and how the Inn was a safe place for them. The fact that Joyce and Hopper stayed here whenever they wanted a night or two away from the chaos of their little blended family filled Steve with joy. He knew that they weren’t hateful people, but this was outright acceptance by the adults he respected most in his life. Robin was rambling on about the décor of the inn as he lugged their many suitcases into their room. She just smiled at him as he struggled.

It was cozy with two queen beds and a little kitchenette and a sitting area off to the side. There was a good size bathroom and closet. It was decorated in soft hues of yellow and green with floral bedding. It was lovely and Steve felt immensely at home in this place.  

“This place is so cute!” Steve exclaimed happily, finally collapsing onto his bed. It was comfortable too. “Damn, this is going to be a nice trip. Elise said they offer 2 meals, that there’s a coffee station with snacks and this bed is fucking soft as hell.” 

“So basically, we can save a ton of money and try to eat here most of the time is what I'm hearing you say Steven?” This seemed to genuinely thrill Robin.  

“Absolutely, we can go visit with them tomorrow during breakfast. It’s from 6:30 to 8:30.” Steve knew this was going to cause some mild stress for Robin. This delighted him. 

“Ugh, ugh. For free breakfast and fellow lesbians, I will get up. You might have to drag me though.” 

Steve laughed, delighted at the prospect of waking Robin up in the morning. It was early evening, but they decided to munch on the leftover food from the drive in and relax. There was a small tv, so they found something to put on and got comfortable. The day so far had been nearly free of sad thoughts over Eddie, but it seemed inevitable that Steve would start to think about him. For one thing, Eddie would look ridiculous in the Mosey Inn, although he would thoroughly appreciate the pun. Yet, there was a part of Steve wishing that Eddie was a part of all of this.

Before he’d ruined everything, Eddie would have been invited on this trip without a second thought. If only he could go back and not fall in love with stupid Eddie Munson. Steve worries that falling for him would have been inevitable though. Everything about him made Steve crazy.

The moment he knew he was monumentally fucked was a few months after everything with Vecna went down. Eddie had still been in the hospital, thankfully cleared off all charges with Hopper back in charge. He’d been high off his ass on morphine and smiling at Steve. Eddie had looked at Steve and said, “Stevie, sweetheart—you beautiful man. How come you’re always sitting around here taking care of me huh?” and Steve had known several things.  

He wanted Eddie to smile at him like that for the rest of his life. He really enjoyed being called sweetheart. And the reason he was always hanging around was because he wanted to be with Eddie. Eddie who always lit up with joy when he saw Steve sitting by his hospital bed. All the time they spent walking that line between friends and more, or at least that’s what Steve thought.

He swore there was so much flirting back and forth. Like the time Steve snuck in cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes from the one diner left open in town and Eddie had told Steve, “All this for little old me?” while literally twirling his hair like a schoolgirl. Or when Steve brought in books for him and Eddie had just clasped Steve’s hand tight and said nothing, just staring intently at him like Steve really meant something to him.  

All misread apparently. It wasn’t flirting at all, just Eddie being Eddie. And Steve had ruined it. He tried not to spiral into his bad thoughts too much but he felt like he always ruined everything. Robin might be his best friend, his platonic soulmate and other half, but it’d been so nice to have a close guy friend.

Eddie had barely been out of the hospital when Steve had driven him up to Indy to replace some of his things lost to the earthquakes. There were better record stores and better thrift stores, and Eddie had very little left to his name. The trailer was gone. He’d even lost his beloved guitar. Steve had never planned on telling Eddie how he felt during that trip, but Eddie has a way of needling things out of people. Something Steve usually finds quite adorable, but not so much when it’s his own unrequited feelings.  

Sighing to himself, Steve sits down by the phone to call Dustin and tell him they made it to the city safely. This means actually calling Mike’s house since the boys are having their weekly nerd fest. The whole group of them are all a little codependent, but after everything they’ve been through it seems reasonable. Unfortunately, Mike nor Nancy answers the phone. It’s Karen Wheeler and she lets Steve know that the boys are all over at Eddie’s apartment playing their little game. That’s exactly what she calls it which does make him chuckle.

He dreads calling Eddie’s place, but he did promise Dustin he’d call. Dustin is already asking questions about him and Eddie. If he’s weird on the phone it will only fan the flames of Dustin’s incessant need to meddle. He dials the number and tries to psyche himself up for the interaction. Maybe one of the kids will answer.  

“Munson Residence, Eddie the Banished speaking?” Eddie’s voice fills Steve’s ear. It’s like a punch to the gut, but Steve takes a deep breath.  

“Is that how you really answer the phone all time or am I just lucky?” Steve asks lightly. Do not make this weird. Be cool. “Or is it just because you’re playing dungeons and whatever?”  

“Ha, Ha. I knew it was you telepathically, so I of course had to answer the phone accordingly. My liege, what can I do for you on this fine summer evening?” 

“You’re lucky it’s cute to be such a fucking nerd.” Shit, shit, shit. Abort flirting. “Kidding, kidding. I called to see if Dustin is still there. I told him I’d call when we got settled.” 

“Rude, I am absolutely the cutest nerd. I’d dare say, adorable even. The fairest in the land, perhaps.” Eddie’s voice had gone low and Steve would bet a hundred bucks he was twirling his hair. What the fuck? “You know, you obviously like nerdy shit considering you-” 

“Hey stop flirting with Steve and let me talk to him, I've been waiting to hear from him all day. We’re in the middle of a campaign Steve. We need our DM not whatever the fuck he was just doing.” Dustin says this all like he knows for a fact that everything he says is true. It’s not.

“Tone, dusty bun. I’m not gay and I wasn’t flirting with Harrington, just messing with him. He’s just so easy to tease. We’re just buddies like that, right man?” Eddie replied, his voice no longer soft, low and sweet. In fact, Eddie sounded hostile. Steve felt his stomach turn. He couldn't even reply.  

“Nothing wrong with being gay, you moron.” Dustin replied firmly. This made Steve smile considering Dustin didn’t even know about Steve yet. He was definitely his favorite kid. Dustin continued on “I mean, we’ve fought literal monsters. Of all things to get worked up over, being gay is not even on the damn list!”   

“I didn’t mean it in a rude way, just saying we were not flirting.” 

“Whatever you say Eddie.” 

“Um, hello guys I am still on the phone.” Steve yelled as the two of them continued to bicker. “I have to go, but I’ll call in a few days Dustin. Bye Eddie.” Steve replied, trying his best not to cry. 

“Wait-Harrington. Steve, I didn’t mean anything by that okay.” 

“Yeah of course, no worries, man. Talk to you later.” Steve knew his voice was emotionless.  

_______________________________

He had to get over Eddie. This confusing back and forth was so painful. Steve didn’t consider himself the brightest, but that felt like flirting. What straight guy calls himself the fairest of the land or adorable to another man? Eddie’s tone of voice was the exact same tone Steve had used so many times to flirt with girls. He knew what flirting looked like. He shouldn’t have started it with the cute comment, but Eddie had most certainly flirted back. He looked over at Robin who was sitting up and waiting patiently for Steve to hang up the phone.  

She looked worried. If his face was at all reflecting how he felt right now, he understood why. The way Eddie has sounded when he said he wasn’t flirting. He told Robin the entire conversation verbatim and he watched her face go through a myriad of emotions. Despite the fact that Robin wasn’t the most tactile person, she threw her arms around him and let him cry all over her t-shirt.  

“Well, I could just kill him. I swear to fucking God. If he’s not gay, fine. But why flirt back?” 

“Maybe he really isn’t flirting. He said he was just messing with me. Maybe we’ve been reading it wrong this whole time!” Steve cried.  

“Fuck that, even Dustin called him on it. He flirts with you all the time. If he’s just messing with you at this point, it’s cruel. Especially now that he knows you’re gay and have feelings for him. I won’t be friends with a bigot.” 

“No, Robbie. I don’t think he’s a bigot. He’s just trying to deal with all this. It’s not his fault I had to go and fall for him. I always fall for the first person who shows me any attention. I ruined this. He’s just...I think he’s a flirty person and I’m just the idiot who thought it meant something.” 

“Shut your whore mouth Steven Elizabeth. That’s absolute nonsense. Eddie is a socially awkward, metalhead D&D playing virgin. You and I both know it. I’ve never seen him so much as look at a girl in a romantic way. He barely talks to anyone he doesn’t know unless it’s to cause a scene. That boy is not a natural flirty person. He flirts with you. He’s either an idiot, a repressed idiot or an asshole. Pick one.” 

“He’s not a virgin, no way. Look at him. Some people go for the whole alternative thing. He’s in a band for fuck’s sake. I bet he’s fucked lots of girls. I mean, he is objectively hot.” Steve argued.  

“Steve!! You always defend him like some sort of rabid groupie, but if that man has so much as seen a real-life titty, I will eat my shoe. He isn’t ugly, I will grant you that one. But please, Eddie Munson is not banging hot chicks on the regular.” 

“I pick that he’s an idiot. I do not think Eddie would purposefully hurt me by flirting just to be all ‘ha-ha, gay boy you fell for it’ when he didn’t even know I was gay until I told him how I felt. I think he just likes to tease me, like he said and he doesn’t know how flirty it comes off maybe?” 

“Dingus. You are in love with him. You are no objective source on the situation.” 

“Can we just... pretend Eddie Munson doesn’t exist for a few days. I won’t play my mixtape. I will try not to mope... let’s just find an apartment and visit your campus and apply for jobs everywhere we can find. It hurts too much to talk about right now.” 

Steve knows he’s lying to Robin. It’s impossible for him to pretend Eddie doesn’t exist. It’d be nice to try though. Instead of trying, he wonders what Eddie’s thinking about back in Hawkins. Is he feeling bad for how he spoke to Steve tonight? Is he also worrying over every little thing he said? Does Eddie even care that what he said felt like a slap to the face? The way he’d said Harrington, instead of Steve. The disgust in his voice when he’d said he wasn’t flirting. At least it was crystal clear that Eddie would never reciprocate his feelings. It feels nearly impossible, but Steve knows he has to let go of Eddie and move on. Two weeks in Indy with Robin should be the perfect way to start trying.   

@koyislosinghismind

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring

@dilutedpondwater

@r0binscript

@wheatnoodle

@randomnessbecausewhynot

[duckie-darling]

Worth the Effort

Lucifer x gn! sinner reader (may skew more f! reader in later chapters)

Chapter 1: Slow burn, Fluff (for now), post season 1, 4.5k words.

1 of (at least) 5 chapters

Inspired by the very specific intersection of Luci hyperfixation and youtube hoof care videos and relating way too hard to this silly, sad little man.

Summary: During the upswings of depression, the King of Hell's love language is breakfast and over the top circus puns. But on the downswings, he needs help remembering that he matters, too.

It was hard to identify the smell wafting through your hotel room, beckoning you away from your dreams and out from under the covers. The streets of hell were often smoky with the faint burning smell of dumpster fires or smoldering brimstone. But this was a little different. Almost pleasant. Almost comforting.

You rolled over to your other side, trying to will yourself back to sleep. It was too early to deal with a fire in the hotel. Surely if it were serious there’d be screaming, right? And besides, if it was anything besides the viridian hell-fires hungry for the flesh of sinners, then it would be fine. It wouldn’t actually hurt the sinners in the hotel, just the hotel itself. Right?

But after a few minutes of trying and failing to fall back into slumber, your growling stomach convinced you that it’s not likely to happen. You reluctantly kicked the blankets down off of your body and laid there, soaking in the comfort for a moment longer.

You hadn’t been a guest at the princess of Hell’s hotel that long. Long enough to fall into somewhat of a routine, but not long enough for the absolute decadence of the plush pillow and feather-soft sheets to have worn off. Not long enough for the quiet and solitude of a room all to yourself to stop being exquisite. Not long enough to forget what it was like to be out on those streets, a hapless sinner trying to dodge knives and bullets and bad deals. No, the privilege of this room and this place hadn’t worn off yet, so you chose to soak in a few more seconds with your head on a pillow behind a securely locked door.

Although, your stomach disagreed.

Finally giving in to its demands, you reluctantly shuffled to your feet and flicked on the bedside lamp with a yawn, limply rubbing sleep from your eyes. The smell had turned from something your brain detected as burning into instead something sweet, slightly smoky, and inviting. Someone was probably making themselves breakfast, and according to your stomach, you should follow suit.

You had come here with only the clothes on your back and whatever of your belongings weren’t pinched by pickpockets. So at least the added step of having to change out of pajamas wasn’t keeping you from breakfast! Turns out there’s a bright side to having not a single possession to your name.

But you still felt the need to make yourself look like you hadn’t just rolled out of bed before facing the world outside that door. The princess didn’t really seem like the kind to kick someone out for messy appearances, but you couldn’t afford to take any chances.

So your stomach continued to murmur as you trudged to the bathroom. You combed your fingers through your bedhead, detangling just enough to be presentable, and gargled with tap water in a weak attempt to stave off morning breath. You also checked your face for dirt and ensured the clothes you slept in weren’t twisted around during sleep. The face staring back at you in the mirror wasn’t exactly your best - but it was presentable.

Stepping out into the hallway, you were pleased to find you were alone, at least for now. While the enticing smell was definitely stronger out here, it didn’t seem like enough to awaken any other hotel residents. As you slowly walked down to the main floor, the sizzling and chopping noises cutting through the silence made it apparent that someone was in there cooking up a storm.

Plenty of people in hell were night owls or just slept most of the day, but very few of them would wake up this early in the morning to cook a proper breakfast for themselves, whistling cheerily. If there was some kind of visitor coming this morning, maybe it would be better to stay out of there - lie low, maybe see if that bartender (Husker was his name, you think?) had any cocktail peanuts to nibble on until the place cleared out. You cautiously stuck your head around the corner to glimpse the source of all the activity.

In no way did you expect that all the activity you heard from this room was coming from just one person.

He stood in front of the stove, whistling a jaunty little tune as he held a skillet in his right hand. He skillfully jerked the skillet, flipping a perfectly browned pancake into the air, which then did an acrobatic little flip before plopping back into the pan. His left hand was whisking some sort of concoction in a red bowl, which itself was being cradled in the air by a swirling golden light. On the counter off to his right, yet another swathe of golden magic was wrapped around a chef’s knife, rapidly julienning potatoes into perfect little matchsticks.

He let go of the whisk, grabbing instead, straight from the air above his head, a black spatula. The utensil was decorated with a shiny red apple at the handle. That, it turns out, was your first clue, but when he twirled quickly in place before coming to face you, you were suddenly certain exactly who it was you had just been caught spying on.

Lucifer - fallen angel, ruler of demons, King of hell - stood before you. 

Making pancakes. 

In an apron. 

Patterned with rubber ducks.

“Goooood morning!” he chirped, eyes brightening as he flipped the pancake again into the air, angling it to land gracefully on a platter that was already piled with its siblings. “Oh, haha, you’re a new face! Well you’re in luck, because early risers get served first~!”

You blinked rapidly in surprise.

“Take a seat!” He snapped his fingers and one of the stools at the kitchen’s island pulled itself away from the counter as an invitation. There was a slight swirling sparkle of golden magic in the air above the surface, and a cascade of plates and silverware arranged themselves into a perfect place setting. The napkin was folded in the shape of a perfect origami swan (or duck?) in the middle of the plate.

“Are you thirsty?” He was talking too fast for you to move or even respond. “Apple? Orange? Pomegranate? Pick your poison!” Each word was punctuated by the fruit in question appearing in his hands, which he almost immediately started to casually juggle. Even just the fragrance of those fruits - a rare, almost unheard of delicacy in hell - made your mouth threaten to water.

He paused a moment, giving you just enough time to inhale in the hopes of replying before he interrupted.  “Oh, but not REAL poison, heh!” his voice cracked and he looked slightly bashful over the misstep, finally breaking the constant excited chattering and replacing it with a slightly awkward silence.

“I-.....” You suddenly realized that somewhere in all that you had been given a command by the king of Hell, so you promptly sat on the stool that had been pulled out for you. “O-orange…?”

The awkward smile turned less awkward, and his face lit up again. “Comin’ right up!” His 3 makeshift juggling balls quickly turned into four, five, eight, twelve. After a moment of showboating while he juggled them with ease, each orange in turn magically hovered over top of your glass, squeezed itself dry, and then helpfully launched itself into the garbage can.

He dusted his hands off on his apron and gave a brief bow, seemingly ending his performance. Then his eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance, stopping your heart until you realized he was staring at your glass. He snapped his fingers, adding both a silly straw and a ruby red paper umbrella. “That’s more like it.” He then spun on his heel, resuming his whistling as well as his work.

You sipped the juice. It was delicious.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man before you. He gave off the least intimidating presence you could imagine, and yet he was almost definitely the most powerful person between the two of you. No, realistically he was the most powerful person in the realm. Just thinking of the broadcast footage from the final extermination convinced you that much was true. 

And sure, you had expected his once-in-a-while presence when taking up a room in the hotel. Rumor was he stayed in one of the corner suites, though you had never encountered his presence since you had gotten here. But this…this was not what you had expected. 

You swallowed hard, again struggling to find your words. Words that wouldn’t risk insulting him and lead to you having your soul tormented more viciously than ever before, or your organs squeezed as dry as those oranges. But you were thankfully saved from having to say anything when the door swung open with another visitor.

“AuuuuuUUUGUH,” Angel Dust groaned, slipping onto another of the stools and planting a bottle of vodka onto the counter, followed shortly by his face. “Boy am I glad yer here today, pops. Ya don’t even wanna know about the fuckin’ night I had. Val had me upside down blowin’ so many dicks I couldn’ get the blood rushin’ anywhere but my head.” He seemed too exhausted to even pounce on the easy “head” double entendre. “Think ya can just make me the usual?”

Lucifer made a flourish with one hand, and more ingredients landed on the counter in another golden swirl. “Buttered biscuit, over hard eggs, absolu-HOOTly no bacon, shredded potato, lots of cheese. Coming right up!” He rolled up his sleeves and started shredding potatoes for the order that he apparently knew by heart.

You cleared your throat for a moment, finally managing to speak again. “Is this….a regular thing?” 

Angel picked his head up, hair fluff falling over his face as he took a quick swig from the bottle. “Yeah, every once in a while.”

“That is-....that is, very kind of you, your Highness,” you muttered, addressing Lucifer this time.

The man in question paused from his nimble knifework to shrug and glance back at you. “Just Lucifer, actually!”

"But-", you stuttered, shifting in your seat. Was this a trick? “But you're the king and-”

"That I am!" He stood a little straighter, and from what little of his face you could see, his teeth shone through a smirk. “But to my darling Char-char’s official guests, I’ve decided to forgo those titles.”

He turned back to his slicing. “No matter how debauched, debased or demented! Whether pickpocket, peddler, porn star or poisoner. To all of the sorry sinners who haunt these halls, I am just Lucifer.” He stiffened a little, and then chuckled out a nervous laugh as his voice cracked. “I’m sure you’re just fi-iNe, though!”

The king glanced back at you, noting the nervous (or maybe confused?) energy. “But…you ca-can call me whatever you want! Whatever, uh, makes you more comfortable! Anything is fine exce-”

“So you’ll let me call you ‘Daddy’ now~~~~~?” Angel Dust interrupted.

“Except that,” Lucifer sighed. He was now tossing the shredded potatoes into a sizzling hot pan, and then grabbing his apple-handled spatula again, twirling it between his fingers like a baton. At some point in the rotation, it turned from spatula to whisk. He dipped it into a bowl full of egg yolks, beating them together with a practiced hand (and, apparently, wrist muscles of steel). The cheery whistling started again, and he tapped his foot gently to the tune. It was only now that you noticed he was standing on a stool in front of the stove.

He next grabbed a salt shaker, and you flinched a little as he tossed it into the air, doing a full 180-degree turn before catching it again and using it to salt the egg mixture.

“I gave you that bottle thinking you’d at least save a glass for me, Legs,” Husk growled slightly. He had apparently slunk in while-...while your attention was elsewhere. 

It wasn’t your fault, though. It was sort of mesmerizing. Like watching a master at work - you just didn’t expect that work would be breakfast sandwiches. And he seemed to take genuine joy in the art. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, and his forked tongue stuck out slightly when he seemed to be focused on flipping the egg just right. The blush-pink circles on his cheeks did cause his expression to always seem slightly-...well, cherubic. The genuine excitement made his smile so bright you almost had to avert your gaze. “Morningstar” really was a fitting name.

Lucifer floated over a plate onto the counter, and Angel Dust tore into his greasy sandwich.

“Hm-...could I have-...pancakes?” you spoke up, finally brave enough.

Lucifer turned to you with wide eyes and a dopey little grin. “Well that is actually my specialty! What shape?” 

“R-...round?”

His face dropped in disappointment, scrunching up his nose a little. “That’s way too easy. How about a-”

“Duck?” Husk guessed with a smirk.

“...turtle. I was going to say turtle, BUT a duck is also an excellent idea. Do you want a duck? Please, say you want a duck?” he turned his eyes to you, almost pleading.

And how could you say no? “I-...yes, sure. Duck pancakes. Duck-cakes?”

“HA!” he let out an enthusiastic laugh. “Duck-cakes! DUCK-CAKES! That’s great. HahA!” 

He made your order with expected enthusiasm, and when the plate slid across to you on the counter, the top pancake was decorated with an orange-wedge beak and blueberry eyes. Taking a bite, it was expectedly delicious, the perfect balance of crispness and fluffiness. You couldn’t help letting out a little sigh of delight.

“Heeheh! It’s the shape that makes it more delicious,” Lucifer snickered with another toothy grin. “Don’t you think?”

“It m-must be. But I think the chef also had a lot to do with it.”

That got him to beam even more, but you didn’t get to bask in the glow of that expression for long before his gaze snapped up to the next visitor.

“Char-char~!” he exclaimed, and 3 pairs of wings burst out of his back, allowing him to cartwheel through the air to land gracefully next to his daughter. “Do you want pancakes, honey? Duck-cakes, DUCK-CAKES! How have I never thought of that?” His hands flailed out above his head in excitement.

“I’m pretty sure you have, Dad,” Charlie offered with a smile as she sat down, Vaggie taking the seat beside her.

“Oh.” His jazz hands fell and his face scrunched up in thought, trying to remember whatever time she must be referring to. “Well, anyway, what’s your order this morning, Char-char?” He poofed himself back over to his post at the stove, already preparing to start on his next order.

The rest of the morning went on similarly to that. Hotel guests (and crew) slowly filtered in, each seeming to know exactly what they wanted for their breakfast order.

The diminutive hotel maid, Niffty chortled and wheezed her way into the kitchen, skittering up to Lucifer and holding a plastic dog bowl above her head. “In this, please....hehe... ”

Lucifer glanced down at her from his spot on the stool, frowning skeptically. “...really?” His eyebrow arched gracefully, again forcing you to turn your eyes away from the way the light caught his pale, unexpectedly beautiful face.

“yES, hehe,” Niffty chuckled.

“Uh, okay," Lucifer said with a sigh and another shrug, “you-... oddly endearing little gremlin.”

The comfortable chatter in the kitchen started putting you a bit more at ease, and it was easy to stay seated right where you were as the morning waned. You sipped your orange juice as your eyes wandered around the room, observing the conversations without having the need to participate. 

Angel leaned an elbow on the counter, and his cheek on his palm, shaking the last bits of Beelzejuice into his own flute of freshly-squeezed orange juice. Charlie's face spread into a dopey grin as she sipped her mug of hot chocolate, and then began rambling to Vaggie about how she ‘never knew humans had invented something so delicious, so splendid, so warm and comforting!’ You also tried not to look too hard at Nifty, eviscerating her cockroach-shaped pancakes into a gruesome mush as strawberry syrup splashed out of the dog bowl. At least she seemed...happy?

But your eyes again found it difficult not to linger on the chef de cuisine. He was still standing on his stool, seemingly for a better vantage point to observe the results of his handiwork. His posture was perfectly poised, back straight and facial expression reserved as he sipped apple juice from a silly straw, but you managed to catch the smile. 

Not the paparazzi smile, the one he probably puts on for the public, the people who want something from him. But a genuine one, tilting up the corners of his mouth and arching his eyebrows with some sort of fondness for the sinners surrounding him (and surrounded you all were, because quite a few other residents had filtered in throughout the morning). 

He clearly seemed to be happy to do anything to please his daughter, but you also caught a sense of satisfaction when Husk, reaching past Angel, slid another pancake onto his place with a 'gimme one of those!' It was a struggle, but you caught his subtle grin when Vaggie, flushing as she took a bite from her girlfriend's fork, licked her lips so as not to waste a drop of syrup.

Not that it was a surprise for the literal sin of pride to get an ego boost from people enjoying his handiwork. But it was a softness you can’t say that you expected.

Lucifer’s eyes caught yours, and he tilted his head curiously, lips still clamped around the silly straw. You unfortunately could not control your expression, your eyes widening as you glanced away.

But it was too late, and you heard a little pop! of golden magic at the same time the stool next to yours was no longer occupied.

“So who are you, again?” his question was punctuated by loud straw slurping as he drained the last of his apple juice. “Oh, right! You’re new here. Right? That’s why I don’t remember you.”

You cleared your throat a little and turned to face him. “Y-yeah, pretty new. Got here a few weeks ago…”

He set the cup down with the tiniest hint of a frown on his face. “Ah. Well, it’s, heh, a big place, and I just can’t keep up with all the sinners Charlie brings in because-.....well, you know, because I’m usually in the suite doing-...very important paperwork and-”

“I, um-” you interrupted him, almost regretting it until you saw the relief on his face when he no longer had to keep talking, “It’s ok. I mean-! I mean, I’m not offended. It is a big place and-...I-I should say it’s an honor that you and Charlie are taking someone like me in and-”

“Oh, that was aaaaall Charlie! I don’t want a thing to do with managing the sinners,” he glanced over at his daughter with a gentle smile, full of pride.

“Oh…I’m sorry, should I-”

“Oh gee whiz!” he exclaimed, turning back to you with a frown. “No, that’s no slight meant to you, I just-” his delicate hands went to cover his face. “Obviously I’m no good at talking to humans any more. Or, I guess I never really was!” he chuckled in exasperation.

“A-as long as you don’t want me gone…then it’s alright,” you smiled, nervously but sincerely trying to reassure the Devil.

His hands left his face and he let out a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s try this again.” He turned to you with a smile, leaning his cheek on his hand and his elbow on the counter. He had managed to calm the nerves in his voice, and instead in a smooth tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, said, “So what brings you here?”

With that particular choice of words, the graceful way he crossed his legs and bobbed his foot, the inquisitive arch to his eyebrow and the frankly embarrassing way you’d been eating up the view all morning, it was hard not to imagine it as a pick-up line, and instead as the invitation for small talk that it really was.

“Well-...I-...before this, I was sort of just doing odd jobs that I could bear to stomach. Trying to get by without-...you know…doing something really terrible. The place is honestly a miracle, because it’s-...tough out there. I’m sure you know that.” You managed to make eye contact for a moment, and you were met with an expression of genuine interest, and a twinge of guilt.

“But-...if you mean Hell in general? I really wish I knew!” you admitted, glancing away again and turning to stir the bare ice cubes around in your otherwise empty glass. “I thought I was a good person. I mean, I’m sure I lied occasionally. Had a mean thought every once in a while. Didn’t always do my best or give everything my all. But, I really thought I would-...well, I didn’t think I would end up here.”

“HhhOOO boy do I know how that feels.” He inhaled deeply, then let out a sigh. “But-...ok. Listen,” his voice lowered, leaning in closer and giving you a whiff of what must have been apple-scented cologne. “I’ve tried to tell Charlie this, but the rules for that kind of stuff ma-ake no sense. It’s not even worth trying to figure out a ‘why.’” 

He sat up, glancing over at his daughter, then back at you. “You came here for help, anyway. That’s...that’s good enough.” He paused for a moment, staring at his own fingers drumming against the counter as he seemingly became lost in thought.

Would it be a mercy to break him away from his thoughts? Maybe.

“Can I- ….can I ask a question, actually?”

He blinked rapidly, looking around as if trying to remember where he was. "Can you-....oh, but I believe you already did just by asking me that~” he snickered, as his brain caught up enough for a witty retort.

“Okay, fine,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can I ask you a question besides the one I'm asking you now? "

“Hmmmm, I'll allow it! I am a gracious king after all.”

“While you were cooking...you just, you know, created those ingredients. Poofed them into existence. Why go through the trouble of cooking it? Why not just-....summon up a finished product?”

Lucifer straightened up again, and the trademark toothy grin spread across his face. “Well, it would be wa-HAY less fun to do it that way. If I did that, I’d make them, but I wouldn't really make them.”

After you tilted your head in momentary confusion, he continued, “Isn't it more fun to-....to make something by hand? To bust out the elbow grease? To feel like you sculpted something bit by bit?” There began a rising excitement in his voice, and you could see the slightest flutter of the wings laying flatly against his back. “To look at a pile of bits and pieces, and create magic instead of relying on it? Sure, I could make anything anyone wanted.”

He shrugged, and seemingly just to prove it, twirled his finger and created a 3D ferris wheel pancake sculpture, complete with carts full of maple syrup.

“But-...you know-...when people bother to take that first bite-...it feels better when I actually tried. It may not be as easy as this,” he rested his chin in his hands, watching the flapjack wheel rotate. “But to truly enjoy creating something, you have to put in the effort…”

“That’s-...that’s quite a sweet sentiment coming from-...sorry, please don’t take offense, but the literal devil. From the Bible.”

He chuckled, again almost forcing you to look away from the brightness of his expression as your heart fluttered. “Yeah, well! You know what they say. Don’t judge a duck by its feather.”

And you couldn’t help but chuckle in return, “I d-don’t think that’s how the expression goes! But may-ha-ha! M-maybe it should~?” 

“Uh, wait is that not how it goes? Hold on- I could have sworn-” he rambled, as something about his expression kept you snickering. It was the lightest you’d felt in days, maybe even since you’d arrived in hell. A conversation with the actual devil had you tittering like a schoolgirl with a crush.

When you caught your breath from laughter and opened your eyes, you could swear his gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, though it could easily have been your imagination. His sharp smile widened, and he leaned in just a little closer. “Well, however you say it’s supposed to go, doesn’t it roll off the tongue a little better? Doesn’t the image it conjures of a flappy little bird-o sound so-ho-ho much cuter~? And make you want to not judge his wittle feathers?”

You smiled again, picking up on the apparent fact that the duck obsession was more than just a pancake thing. “Okay, yes. Maybe the people-...up there on Earth will realize not to ‘judge ducks by their feathers’ either. Things can change...sometimes,” you shrugged.

He settled that dazzling smile into a gentler one, still looking at your face and making your heart flutter against your will. He then seemed to suddenly be aware of his unconscious gawking, and looked away, clearing his throat.

“Y-yeah-" he stammered, “...I guess sometimes they do.”

[yanderes-galore]

Sir Pentious from Hazbin Hotel concept, please? I love snake boi so much and I know you do too lmao

Yeah... and I still do, lol. May not be as into Hazbin as I used to, but I still enjoy the snake.

Yandere! Sir Pentious Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Violence, Murder/Accidental death mentioned, Dubious/Forced relationship.

I'm going to say it now, Pentious is a pathetic yandere.

He'd try so hard to follow through with his yandere schemes, only for something to go wrong.

The only way he'd succeed is most likely by accident.

He's often loud and easy to excite.

He's persistent yet also seems shy when it comes to romance or anything intimate.

We can see this in the show with Cherri.

He'd definitely want to be the center of his obsession's attention.

He'd do anything for you to acknowledge him.

An example is him making inventions to impress you.

He follows you around eagerly but sometimes would be too anxious to talk to you properly.

He wants his obsession to think he's cool and probably gets emotionally attached to them easily.

It's also canon Sir Pentious watches people sleep, apparently.

So... He's definitely going to slither beside your bed when you're asleep and just stare.

I can just see Sir Pentious planning things but... his plans never go the way he wants them to.

Like, I can see Pentious killing another sinner by accident... but failing anything purposeful.

Who knows, maybe that accident actually works in his favor.

Same thing with kidnapping.

He'd set up this elaborate plan to lure you into a trap.

Only for it to fail.

For the most part he's just clingy with you.

He respects you, looks up to you, finds you pretty to look at...

Yet can't approach you for the life of him.

When he does converse with you... He's so awkward.

He really is trying to connect but he gets so flustered.

If Pentious succeeded in making you his, it's probably out of pity or complete accident.

In fact, there's a chance he could win you over without you even seeing his yandere behavior.

He's adorable in a way... even if he's failing being bad.

He's a good inventor and has a weak form of hypnosis, but it's nowhere close to someone like Vox.

The most you're affected by it is being stunned like Angel was.

Pentious' biggest issue is being clingy.

I imagine he's a fan of physical affection from his obsession.

Considering he's a snake... Hugs are quite literally constricting.

So I think even if you were good friends or close, if he didn't want you to leave, he'd probably constrict you then not move.

Again, considering he's a snake, you could probably incorporate his bite into his behavior.

Sir Pentious has the tools to be a dangerous yandere towards his obsession...

But not the mindset.

Pentious could, if he really tried, kidnap you properly.

He could constrict you, maybe bite you, then probably keep you in his ship.

However... He usually stays away from such an idea.

He wants to try "wooing" you properly first.

What a gentleman....

Sir Pentious most likely experiences jealousy, but he's really petty.

He knows he hates not being the center of your attention and he acts a bit childish about it.

It's like a competition to him... Even if you're simply chatting with someone else.

Sir Pentious would quickly want to grab your attention, even if he's usually admiring you from afar.

"H-Hey! Hey, wait! I-I made this cool invention I want to show you! Also, Charlie showed me this new exercise! Can we hang out...?"

He's so shy and awkward when it comes to relationships, it's hard to see his true nature towards you.

He acts cute and his plans mostly don't work...

However, there's most likely always the threat he may succeed at some point if pushed.

Sure, his failed attempts at courtship are cute now...

Until he succeeds.

While I still can't see him as killing someone on purpose due to jealousy (Without getting completely ruined by the other person)...

Kidnapping is plausible.

You trust Sir Pentious, so he could probably lure you away and bite you if he wanted.

Normally he just wants to try flirting or attempts at affection.

You don't suspect a thing until his fangs slip into your neck.

Even then he's mumbling out quick apologies as he scoops you up.

He definitely keeps you in his ship and tries to play things off.

Oh! This was all just a little... surprise he put together, yeah!

Said surprise is a room full of things dedicated to you and a bed in the middle of it for you to sit on.

He really didn't want to kidnap you the more he got to know you...

Yet he was so tired of being ignored.

Sir Pentious only wanted you to look his way.

However... It appears the only way he can have you is through restraints.

He just wishes you could be only his.

While Sir Pentious can also be a yandere you can have a (mostly) normal relationship with...

With a bit of motivation, like an obsession choosing to ignore his feelings or is with someone else, may make him snap enough to become dangerous despite his submissive nature.

He can try manipulating you away and trying to grasp your attention...

Yet sometimes it isn't enough...

Leading to you being locked away for his own eyes only.

Even in captivity, Sir Pentious tries to make your "relationship" seem normal.

He showers you in gifts he made, he smothers you in affection...

The snake really enjoys cuddles.

Sir Pentious loves to slither beside you as you sleep, nuzzling into your neck.

He's a pathetic yandere, one someone may consider charming...

But he's still a cunning snake...

He's still a potential danger to you, and all it takes is one bite to make him switch.

[lxclerc]

𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞 | 𝐦𝐯𝟑𝟑

SUMMARY: max is your lavender haze WARNING: fluff PAIRING: max verstappen x singer!reader WORD COUNT: 842

NOTE: a drabble to ease me back into writing. also yes, i spend most of my time praying for max's downfall but still.

MASTERLIST

Max’s head is right by yours as the two of you lay on your backs, hands intertwined as you stare up at the ceiling. The hotel room is nearly completely silent apart from the ticking of the clock that is becoming more and more apparent as the seconds come by. 

You’re both needed to be somewhere in a few minutes and yet as everything becomes overwhelming, you find yourselves laying on the bed. Max has never been one for the press. He says the wrong things, being far more truthful than he ever needs to be which ends up with him unknowingly causing problems. They want him to fail and that was completely fine. Everyone has biases and he’s here to race, not make friends. He doesn’t need people to like him. He just needs them to respect him.

And there’s you anyway. There’s always you. There’s you with your reassuring smile and you who refuses to listen to anything they say about him. There’s you with your tight hold on his hand and you with your loudest cheer. There’s always you and there’s always him and so neither of you need anyone else. 

You turn to face him, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be late.”

Max makes a show of groaning as his hand lets go of yours in order to wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. “I want to stay here.”

You wanted to stay in your bubble of lavender haze too but you had your own commitments you needed to get to. You have your own interview for your latest album in a few hours, one you need to start getting ready for. In your head, you’re already gagging at the questions that will have absolutely nothing to do with your music and more to do with getting clickbaits about your love life. You’re already preparing yourself for the mental torture of having to go through an interviewer going around in the same question till you relent and give the answer he wants.

It’s all mind games really. 

Still tho, you’re the one to sit up and pull Max with you. He needs to be at the paddock and you’d rather not have your manager come barging at your door because you’re going to be late for the radio interview. 

“It’s media day,” Max says with a groan as his head falls against your shoulder. No driver really actually enjoys media day but perhaps Max hates it the most. 

You push his hair out of his face, placing a soft kiss against the bridge of his nose. “I have a radio interview.”

He groans again, for you this time. Perhaps you share the same feelings for media day. 

The two of you would have stayed like that longer if it weren’t for the matching knocks on the door, ones you’re sure belongs to your manager and someone from red bull getting ready to drag him out of his ass. Your suspicions were confirmed as Alex, your forty something year old manager that sometimes feels more like a big sister, comes in without waiting for a confirmation. Behind him, a poor red bull intern had been tasked with getting Max along. She looks almost terrified and a little bit too excited as she saw you in the room with Max. 

“Get it moving, the two of you,” Alex says, holding a clipboard that contains your schedule for the day. “Let go of my kid, Verstappen.”

You laugh at the childish pout that overtake Max’s face. 

You hold his face against your hands as you kiss him. “I’ll see you later, my love.”

“Save me,” he whines against your lips. “Later can’t come around faster.”

You laugh again, both from his whining and the sound of Alex making gagging noises as he watched the display of very clear affection before him. Unfortunately for everyone around you, you and Max are that couple – far too ridiculously in love for everyone else. 

Still, you can’t be blamed. This is all new to you. Your history with dating has not only been messy but also unfortunately a global gossip. Men have not only broken your heart but rather also stomped on it in the worst, most public ways possible. Men who want to love you in public but can’t seem to stand you in private. And to have Max who loves every part and version of you, who complains about being away from you because he simply enjoys your company that much is new to you.

And it’s glorious and beautiful and wonderful and gods be damned if you’d let anyone shame you for it.

“Alright, alright, you love each other. We need to go,” Alex interrupts, practically grabbing your arm to pull you away. Still, there’s an affectionate smile curving his lips. He likes to pretend to be annoyed but you know he’s happy for you. He knows you deserve this and he knows Max does too. 

You’d stay in this lavender haze forever if you could. 

---

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot

[kate-inhaler-1975]

The Undertaker & Mia Wallace // Ross McDonald

A/N : This is a continuous series of the Promptober fics that I failed to do 😭 (I'm sorry, @abiiors ). So here's the Ross & Eve content that people need xx

C/W : Mature languages, a lot of self-doubt, and maybe slight sexual tension 👁👄👁

W/C : 2,180

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Matty and Amy officially started dating in mid February. Valentines Day to be exact. Which meant their first Halloween together was here.

It also meant it was Eve's first time being in a social setting with the entire band.

Eve had been for lunch with George, Charli, Amy and Matty. She'd hung out with Adam quite a bit, but she was always chatting with Carly and Polly. With Waughy, Gabrielle and Jamie, she'd had some short but sweet interactions with them, but Ross was never there.

Eve would always leave a party minutes before Ross would turn up. She'd hang up a facetime call with Amy seconds before Ross and Matty would entire a room. At the St. Annes show, she made an excuse not to go to the after party for his birthday because she was too scared to be in a social setting with him.

It was always bad timing for her to meet her apparent "soulmate".

So, tonight was the night, and here she was trying to blackmail Matty and Amy into telling her what Ross was dressing up as so she could maybe match with him and act like it would be a coincidence.

"I will leak every message that Amy has ever told me about and I will find any possible nudes and I'll send them to TMZ and The Sun newspaper if you don't tell me right now." Eve aggressively took a puff of her vape, pacing around her hotel room like crazy.

"Seriously, Eve, I'm not breaking a sweat over you threatening to leak nudes that don't exist." Matty smirked and shrugged his shoulders, kicking his feet in the air as he layed on Eve's bed.

"Oh, fuck off! I know for a fact Amy has something you wouldn't want fans to see somewhere in the archives." Eve bit back. The room fell silent as Matty and Amy stared at each other, eyes wide knowingly.

"No, Evie, no. I know for fact that if, and only if, there was something to leak you wouldn't do that because you love me and deep down you love Matty as well." Amy showed Eve a toothy grin while doing heart hands over her chest, making Eve roll her eyes and dramatically fling herself into the plush armchair.

"I need to make him fall in love with me!" She whined into the palm of her hands.

Matty felt the need to tease his girlfriend's best friend. He wanted tease her and feed her information without giving her the full details.

He already knew that Ross had seen pictures of her and that he was already stalking her instragram religiously.

"Who said he isn't already in love with you, hmm?" Matty looked at Amy even though he was speaking to Eve, sending her a wink as Amy held back a laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eve shot up out of the armchair, her face covered in eagerness.

"I'm just saying that none of us has said to your face that he isn't already in love with you. Anyways, I'm going to shave this fucking stache off and I'll see yous later." Matty huffed as he got up off the bed, bending down to kiss Amy who was sitting cross legged on the floor.

"I love you." She giggled into the kiss, resting both her hands on his reddened cheeks.

"I love you most. See ya later Evie." He winked and pointed finger guns at Eve before speeding out the door.

Leaving Amy blushing and picking at her nails and Eve sitting back down in a huff.

"Ams?" Eve called out quietly after a few seconds of silence, pulling at a thread that was loose on her t-shirt.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that Ross could like someone like me? Even if it's not romantic, just in general." Eve kept her eyes away from looking at Amy, feeling embarrassed by her question.

"What is "someone like me" supposed to mean? Every bone in my body wishes I was someone like you." Amy's brows furrowed, quickly rushing to Eve's side and sitting down on the floor beside her, resting her hands on Eve's knees.

"That's not true, Amy. You're kind, funny, sweet, pretty, and you've got Matty. Who would've thought you'd end up being Matty Healy's girlfriend after all those years of drooling over him. But me? I'm loud, annoying, stubborn, hard to please. I've grown to understand that it's just going to be me and my cats for the rest of my life." Eve let out a breathy laugh to cover up the obvious hurt she felt.

The more that time went on, the more Eve decided that she'd come to terms with being single for the rest of her life. She'd only ever had one night stands, situationships, awful tinder dates, but she'd never been in love and she'd never been in a relationship.

"If that's what you think about yourself, then fine, so be it, but I'm going to tell you what people really think of you. You're hilarious, you're the life of the party and the light of many lives. You're loyal, and Jesus fucking christ are you beautiful. So fucking beautiful inside and out, Evie. I love you, Matty loves you, your family loves you. Everyone that meets you loves you. So I can promise you, with every beat of my heart and moving bone in my body, Ross is going to love you just as much as we do."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Eve gazed at herself in the mirror, cocking her head to the side with a face of stone.

Lips painted red. A wig, shiny and black, cut into a Bob. Black dress pants tight with a white shirt and a few buttons popped open to expose the top of her lacy black bra.

She hated it. She hated all of it.

She feared that she was being too much. That the costume she decided on would leave people whispering, saying that she was a try hard.

"I look fucking ridiculous." She groaned to herself, rolling her eyes and dabbing the fake blood under her nose, hating every single bit of this and wanting to fly home immediately.

"Eve! You alright in there, love?" Matty's voice echoed from outside the bathroom in the venues greenroom.

"I look like a fucking knob, Matthew. I'm not going anywhere looking like this." She sighed from inside. Turing away from the mirror and leaning against the sink with her arms crossed.

"Eve Beatty, I will get Amy in here if you don't shut up. Come on, let me see your costume. If you want someone to tell you the truth, then don't fucking worry, I'm the one to do it."

Eve was hesitant to open the door, her hand lingering over the door handle as she cringed at the thought of her appearance.

"You promise you won't laugh at me?" She whispered.

"I promise, on Amy's life. I won't laugh at you." He whispered back. The soft smile on his face almost audible.

She took a deep breath, swinging open the door to be faced with Patrick Bateman.

"Jesus, Matthew. I don't know whether to laugh or run away screaming and crying." Eve chuckled, finding his costume impressively good.

"It's good isn't it! I think I pull off Patrick Bateman pretty well." He spun around on his heal, showing her jazz hands as he turned back to face her.

"You really do! Now, back to me. I look like a fucking knob!"

"You look far from it, Eve. You look incredible, I promise." Matty opened his arms, welcoming Eve in for a hug that she much appreciated.

Matty and Eve had gotten close over the last few months. Not in a weird way, they just both respected each other and had the same thing in common.

Which was that they both loved Amy.

The double doors into the green room banged open, making both Amy and Matty's hearts stop in fright.

"Tell me about it, stud." Amy spoke seductively, swaying her hips as she walked into the room in her Sandy costume.

"Fuck me." Matty whispered under his breath, but Eve was close enough to hear.

"Someone's got a hard on." Eve spoke through a loud and arrogant cough, making Matty stand on her bare toes in return.

"THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!" She roared in pain, bouncing up and down on her foot that Matty didn't stomp on.

"FUCK! Evie, you look so fucking sexy I might pass out!" Amy gasped, stumbling a little bit from the height of her heels as she made her way over to her.

"Who looks sexy?"

The room fell silent.

Eve's heart began beating at what felt like an ungodly rate.

Her entire body froze as her eyes fell onto him.

Ross. Ross dressed up as The Undertaker out of all people.

"Oh! Ross, this is my best friend, Eve. And Eve, this is Ross." Amy smiled cheekily.

Neither Ross or Eve moved a muscle. The two of them just stood there staring at each other. Eyes dry and stinging and chests heaving.

Ross felt like his world was spinning. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He couldn't speak or move, he just froze up.

"Ehm, hello! Wakey, wakey!" Matty cooed jokingly. Finding this interaction very entertaining.

"Fuck off! Hi, I'm Eve. Uhh, nice to meet you." Eve shook herself out of her daze, sticking her hand out in front of Ross.

"Hi, I'm Ross. It's nice to finally meet you. I mean, sorry if that sounded weird, it's just I've heard a lot about you from Amy and Matty so I was looking forward to meeting you." He rambled, shaking her hand.

"Only good things, I hope." Eve giggled while still holding onto his hand.

"Definitely only good things. Haven't heard a bad word about you." Ross' smile became less tense the more Eve talked, and Matty and Amy just sat down on the couch practically all over each other but Ross and Eve were too focused on each other to notice.

"When I walked into this room I never thought I'd be meeting Mia Wallace." He commented, his eyes flickering up and down her body in a way that didn't actually make her feel uncomfortable.

It actually made her feel confident instead.

"And I never thought I'd be having a conversation with The Undertaker, but here we are. The duo no one asked for." Eve chuckled, taking out her vape that was tucked into her bra and taking a lengthy drag of it.

"Shouldn't you be smoking a cigarette if you're dressed up as Mia Wallace." He pointed at the vape in between her lips, smirking as he took a sip of his preshow whisky.

The eye contact they were holding had Eve weak in the knees. Her left hand gripping onto the mini fridge behind her to keep her standing.

Her legs crossing slowly to try and get rid of the sudden throbbing in between her legs.

"I, ehm, I've never tried a cigarette. Jumped on the vape bandwagon long before it became a trend."

"Would you jump on trends often?"

"No, not really. I like to do my own thing. I don't feel the pressure to tag along with trends just to make myself fit in with today's generation." Eve shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal, swapping out her vape for a large gulp of her Gin and Tonic.

"Wow, Mia, you've got brains." He moved closer to her in a blink of an eye.

She barely even noticed until the large hat he was wearing was shadowing over her and the smell of his cologne overwhelmed her senses.

"And you, The Undertaker, are easy to talk to. Even though I'm enjoying this conversation, I think you should get a move on. And! You, Matthew! Get your tongue out of my best friends throat, please." Eve pinched the bridge of her nose in slight disgust.

It was a strange sight, seeing Patrick Bateman and Sandy from Grease eating the faces off of each other.

It was almost laughable.

The small chatter continued as Matty and Ross left the room, leaving the two girls to chat away for a while.

"Hope you enjoy the show. Oh, and, meet me outside for a smoke after. Or should I say vape." Ross turned back to speak to Eve, his hand slightly brushing hers by accident.

"You're not going to kill me in the smoking area, are you?"

"No, that's Matty's job. I just might be the one to get you into Cigarettes, darling." Ross winked before strutting off, letting the door close behind him and leaving Eve completely starstruck.

Or maybe Lovestruck.

"So, Evie, was I right or was I right in saying that Ross McDonald was going to love you." Amy squealed as she wrapped her arms around Eve's waist from behind. Swaying the two of them from side to side.

"I don't know about him, but I'm down fucking bad for The Undertaker."

[strikersexhaver]

Striker x Reader | Trip to Ozzie’s! 💋

A/N this would be a silly little thing to do in my meantime! Plus, I really like the idea of Ozzie’s entirely so, here we go! A much more jokey-fic, plus probably OOC for Striker maybe, but with the new episode anything goes LMAO.

CW: sexual innuendos and themes, drinking games, drunk Striker but no NSFW here.

Also the Reader has a tail!

If you somehow catch him with a free schedule, and catch an Ozzie’s reservations. He’ll be up for it, it’s a date with you and he gets to make fun of some lustful people with no shame.

And that you two did, together watching the performances.

His arm around your neck, you leaning into the touch and on him. Tails intertwined, for most demons this would be considered pretty intimate.

You two chuckled quietly, at the bad performances. Cracking jokes in whispers and holding in laughter.

Only till then when the actual good performances start to kick in and Striker’s eyebrows raised with widened eyes as he slowly turned to you when they got to certain ‘desires’ in the song.

He turned to you and thought about performing said desires eventually at home, to spice things up a notch.

And you turned to him, having a gleeful smile to ‘oh shit he’s planning something hella devious’ ���

Aaaand that’s when you started ordering drinks, ignoring the gears grinding in his head.

He chuckled at you, then he got an idea to start a drinking game.

It was ‘take a shot whenever someone said something you’d wanna try in bed’

He chuckled to himself whenever you drank at all, but then pridefully looking at you with a grin when he drunk a few glasses.

Apparently, lusty demons give good ideas for the bedroom (who knew?) so for Striker, he was tipsy easily after enough shots.

He then realized a good idea, an idea fueled by drunk thoughts and that’s all, plus he was feeling himself after you kept bashfully looked away from how much drinks he had.

He stole a guitar, kicked the lustful imp off stage, singing about his desire instead. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time, winking at you. If it wasn’t for the fact he had good vocals… and the fact he’s one sexy ass snake, his poor lyrics would absolutely been made fun of.

you felt second hand embarrassment, but you couldn’t stop watching and you also knew you had ammo to make fun of him for this later.

Just like the guitar, you stole him and bolted, taking him to a hotel for the rest of the night because you cannot ride Bombproof for the life of you. Plus, the horse doesn’t let anyone but Striker ride him really…

When the next day hit and both of your heads hurt, Striker’s more than yours, you told him all about last night and he was the one who became ashamed and bashful.

“Ya’ gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me…”

“I got it on video…”

And that would be the last time Striker ever set foot in the Lust ring ever again-