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pingutats · 3 years

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i just had such a good request for a fic. dom/sub dynamic with dom!harry where y/n is being spanked for misbehavior and she ends up crying during it because she feels like she deserves to be hurt, and harry stops immediately and there’s a lot of fluffy aftercare and physical affection

thank you for the request!! i know it took me a million years to get to writing this but finally did it... i know it strays a little bit from all the details of your request but i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: spanking, dom/sub dynamic, descriptions of anxiety (maybe don’t read if you’re in a weird headspace, it’s not exactly pleasant!)

word count: 1.7k

. . . . .

As soon as Y/N hears Harry’s car in the driveway, she dashes from the kitchen to the front door like a kid that’s heard an ice-cream van. After the day of work at home she’s had, of redoing paperwork she’d messed up the first time and struggling through technical issues and communication errors over email—she just needs Harry so badly.

In fact, she’d texted him earlier to let him know. Quite blatantly. With a photo she prays he opened when there was nobody else around.

When Y/N opens the door for him he freezes, taking in her appearance. She’s wearing just panties and one of his shirts, her bare legs completely on display for him. His gaze sweeps up and down her body for a second, then he swears under his breath and strides in quickly. Y/N jumps back to give him room, waiting a few feet ahead in the hallway.

He shuts the door with his arm swinging back behind him, not even glancing over his shoulder to watch it close.

There’s a second of silence as they stare each other down, and it’s in this second that Y/N feels them slip into the roles of the game she’s been wanting to play all day. His eyes go from wide in shock to steady. Her head bows almost of its own accord, responding to the straightening of Harry’s shoulders after he drops his bag.

He inhales sharply through his nose and drops his keys into the bowl on the bench. “You’ve been doing this on purpose, darling,” he says in a measured tone. It isn’t a question. He won’t be asking questions now—she won’t have to think, she can just listen to him, let him take over now.

She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling it up enough to reveal the slightly paler skin where her shorts would usually cover.

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Come here,” he says, beckoning her over.

She considers refusing, just to be a brat, but it’s a lot easier to just go along with him now she’s getting what she wanted. She twists her hands in the t-shirt in front of her as she approaches him, averting her eyes from his as he watches her, suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

When she’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs her wrists to yank her grip on the shirt free, pulling her off balance so the only thing that stops her falling flat on her face is his arms. She tries to relax into his grip, tries to let herself go.

“Been so fucking needy today. That photo — nearly had me getting hard in the studio right in front of everyone, love,” he says, squeezing her wrists almost painfully. “And look how you answer the door, nearly naked for anyone walking on the street to see.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. “Do you want to apologise for anything?”

She looks at him, pretends to think, and then shakes her head.

He sighs. “Of course not, you little brat.” His grip loosens. “Alright then. Go upstairs for me.”

She blinks at him.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go on.” He spins her around and nudges her towards the stairs with a gentle push.

She glances over her shoulder at him before she goes and he only raises his eyebrows expectantly. She’s almost tempted to pull the back of the t-shirt down over her ass to cover herself, but that wouldn’t get her what she needs, and what she needs is Harry to take care of her—so she keeps her head bowed as she walks up the stairs, adding a little swing in her hips with each step just as the icing on the cake. She smiles when she hears his deep inhale from the hallway as he watches her the whole time.

Upstairs, she sits on the end of their bed with her hands in her lap, scratching at days-old nail polish she’ll need to redo soon. There’s a knot in her stomach that’s been twisting all day, stresses piling up and morphing into some ugly feeling she can’t shake, not without Harry’s help. She manages to peel all the bright pink colour off her left thumbnail while she waits.

It seems like forever before she hears Harry’s footsteps up the stairs but when she does, she straightens up. The sound of the door opening makes her jump in nervous shock. She flexes her fingers, trying to calm her jitters. It’s Harry. She needs him.

“Being such a brat today,” he says when he’s finally in front of her. “Aren’t you? Don’t know how to behave.” He sits beside her, squishing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. “Need me to teach you a lesson, hm?”

She nods at him, eyes moony. Yes, this is what she wants, needs from him—to let him take over for a little while, let him take out his frustration on her, help her let go of her own.

His grip softens a bit. “This okay, baby?” he asks more quietly.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. She feels like melting against the softness of his lips, pressing against her own, the mouth she knows so well. It’s a comfort in the mess that her mind is feeling like right now.

But he isn’t so gentle as he drags her over his lap a moment later, her face roughly pushed down into the mattress. His hand squeezes her ass, only barely covered by her panties, and her breath hitches.

“Count for me.”

“Yes sir,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

Her exhale is cut short by the force of his palm cracking against her skin, jolting her forward over his lap. The sting dissipates quickly, taking none of the tension inside her with it.

“One,” she says.

“Good girl.” His hand comes down on her again, harder this time.

She screws her eyes shut. “Two.”

It isn’t feeling like how she wants it to feel. She’s too tense, restless, her mind unwilling to float away under Harry’s touch. The pain, which usually is laced with something brilliant and exciting, is just pain today. But with all the mistakes she’s made today, all the things she messed up that have just added to her workload and her stress—maybe this is what she deserves. Punishments are called that for a reason.

So she stays where she is, her head lowered so Harry won’t see anything wrong. She gasps at the third, and it takes her a second to remember she needs to count. “Three,” she says, her voice shuddering.

Harry pauses and she fears she’s made him upset, spoken too quietly, taken too long—she can’t do anything right.

“Love,” he says. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder gently. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and in the pause, realises her cheeks are wet. “Um,” she says. Her voice shakes.

Harry’s arm snakes underneath her and pulls her up, manoeuvring her so she straddles his lap and he can see her face. The crease between his brows is deep as his eyes dart over her face, his thumb coming to her cheek to brush a tear away.

She leans her head into his palm that was cracking down onto her skin just a minute ago and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“What happened? When did it change?” he asks, his voice soft again, his character leaving.

She shrugs. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without crying more, and she feels stupid enough already.

“It’s alright, love,” he says, shifting so he can sit up straighter and pull her closer to his chest. He rubs her back, kissing her hair. “Let’s just rest for a moment, alright?”

She nods into his shoulder, hiding her face. His hand cradles the back of her head. The panic that she was feeling is dissolving into nothing. All day she felt so tense with so much twisting inside her, and she’d thought she could force it out painfully—she was wrong, of course, and now she feels awful for roping Harry into her misguided attempt to fix herself.

After a couple minutes, Harry taps her to get her to look up at him. “Why’d you want a punishment today?” he asks, without accusation.

She shrugs, raising her shoulders as high as she can and then letting them drop sharply. “Just felt like I needed it.”

He nods. He understands that sometimes she feels like this—needs to lose herself in playing a role for an evening, forget about real life and its responsibilities—because he knows the feeling too. She’s helped him in this way before. They take it in turns: give each other what they need, when they need it. “Wasn’t helpful today, though?” he prompts, his eyebrows raised sympathetically.

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. He smiles a little bit and a shallow dimple appears in his cheek. “That’s fine. It’s just a game. We play it whenever you want to, we stop playing when you’re not enjoying it. That’s important, alright?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Need to stop apologising, baby,” he tells her. “Just keep talking to me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses her cheek and the gesture raises butterflies in her stomach, even still after all the months they’ve been together. It reminds her that he’s there for her, to look after her, to take care of her when she can’t do it for herself. His lips stay close to her skin as he asks, “How can I help, though, really?”

She buries her face back into his shoulder. “Dunno,” she says, her voice muffled. “Just need you.”

She feels his chin gently knock against the top of her head as he nods, his arms tightening around her again. “You’ve got me, baby. Always got me.”

. . . . .

thank you for reading! if you did like it, a reblog would be really appreciated as well as any feedback/comments you might have! you can find more of my writing on my masterlist.

#harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #fic

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment.

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week.

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks.

Your first front page piece for Chess Review.

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills.

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it.

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie.

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment.

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man.

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top.

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp.

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page.

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not.

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work.

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament.

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock.

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him.

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly.

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see).

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing.

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely.

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried.

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?”

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?” You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter.

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?”

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked.

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style.

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down.

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu.

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall.

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you.

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond.

You found yourself looking at the books again.

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call.

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick.

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!”

“It sounds awful.” You chuckled,

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” You lied.

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?”

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York.

“He did?!” Angie gasped.

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained.

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times.

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued.

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned.

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.”

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again.

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea.

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!”

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down.

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested.

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside.

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point.

There was a sudden knock at your door.

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be.

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again.

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door.

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there.

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts.

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Well, you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged.

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered.

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed.

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart.

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you.

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain.

“I––” He cut you short.

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke.

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race.

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.”

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs.

Benny fucking Watts.

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number.

“Bonjour?” She answered,

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.”

You ended up tossing and turning all night.

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again.

You finished it by the time the sun was rising.

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain.

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up.

You set up the board and stared at it.

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took.

You caved.

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying.

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk.

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you.

You thanked her then sighed.

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return.

Then you saw it.

Through a window of a small diner.

The famous black hat.

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat.

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes.

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully.

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.”

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth.

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table. “Let’s begin.”

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

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#benny watts x reader #benny watts imagines #benny watts imagines #benny watts x femreader #benny watts #the queens gambit imagines #the queens gambit #Thomas Brodie Sangster #Thomas Brodie Sangster imagines #newt #Beth Harmon #Anya Taylor joy

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

Text

Shy (one-shot)

Synopsys: She’s shy. He likes her. She likes him. But every time something gets between the ex-Winter Soldier and the cute lab rat that works with Stark. The team has had enough of the pining.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: fluffffffff

Warnings: swearing, as per usual, nothing else really. Just some cute lil fluff I wrote (also this is defo not my best work :D)

Word count: 3042

It was a seemingly ordinary day when the ex-Winter Soldier’s life changed forever.

Bucky’d plopped down onto the sofa with a disgruntled sigh, making Steve smirk and divert his attention from the show on the TV to his friend.

“You know, she likes you,” Steve said to Bucky as he sipped on his coffee giving him a side glance.

Bucky just grumbled and crossed his arms, mind still reeling on the absolute failure that he had experienced earlier that day. It'd been a trainwreck of a mission. No lives lost, but he'd made an absolute fool of himself by making a few bad calls. “Who?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, as if,” he snorted. “I mean I know she likes me, but she likes everyone. There’s not a single mean bone in her body.”

“No, I mean,” Steve huffed placing down the cup before he spilt some of it on himself, “she likes you. As in she might want to pursue a relationship with you.”

Bucky was choking on his spit the second the word ‘relationship’ came out of his friend’s mouth. Y/N? Liked him? As in more than a friend? He’d be lying if he said that thought didn’t send him over the Moon, but it seemed like such a far reach, especially with the interactions they’d had, that he had to give Steve a glare, especially with how she didn’t even give a single sign she might be into him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re the expert on flirting and getting it on?”

“Wow.” Steve put a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “That’s a low blow. I might’ve not had any game when I was skinny, but let me tell, you after the serum th-“

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Bucky interrupted his rant.

His friend broke the eye contact and paused, chewing on his bottom lip before deflecting. “Look that doesn’t matter.”

Bucky rolled his eyes so much he feared they’d be permanently stuck like that.

“What matters is that she likes you, but she’s too shy to do anything about it,” Steve stated.

“We had a pretty good conversation a couple of hours ago.” They did. If you take saying 'hello', an awkward wave and bashful smiles as a conversation, then yes, it was very successful.

“Shy doesn’t always mean ‘incapable of holding a conversation’. Shy can mean not talking about how they’re feeling or how their day is because they think no one cares or would get annoyed with them,” Steve said looking over his mug.

Bucky was baffled. “How – why – how could anyone think she’s annoying? She’s – she’s amazing!” But that’s when it hit him - Y/N never looked him in the eye, she always apologized for talking ‘too much’, and at any point in the conversation, she always diverted the attention away from her or her troubles.

“So…” Bucky swallowed hard. “You think I should go for it?”

Steve shrugged. “I think if you don’t, you’ll never know what it could lead to.”

***

It was about an hour later after his enlightening chat with Steve that Bucky found himself walking towards where their resident lab rat usually stayed at when he heard muffled cursing.

“Work, you absolute piece of shit!” Y/N exclaimed each word emphasized with a harsh hit against a machine’s side. “Top-notch technology my ass!”

“Everything alright, doctor Y/L/N?” His voice was gruff as he interrupted her conversation with the computer.

Not that Y/N would ever admit it, but usually just his presence alone set her body ablaze, but this time, it was a distraction and not a good one.

“Just fucking peachy,” she grunted and slammed her hand against the computer with every uttered syllable.

“Alright,” Bucky chuckled and entered the lab. “What did that poor computer do to you, since you seem so inclined to completely destroy it?”

“For starters, it decided to shut down,” she growled at the computer, and if it was alive, it would hang its head in shame. “Then, when I rebooted it, the files were not lost, oh that I could live with, but they were corrupted. Meaning I do have them, but they’re useless, and that means I have to redo everything.”

“You’d have to redo everything if the files were lost either way.” Bucky gave her a small smile, teasing the woman as she whined.

“Yeah,” Y/N threw back her head. “But it wouldn’t be as humiliating. I mean, if they’re gone, they’re gone, but they aren’t!” She threw the screen a scowl. “The files are there, just sitting… and useless… just like me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re useless." Bucky smirked at her, and she sighed.

“Please, do tell what I’m of use here right now, right this moment.”

“Company?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and that’s when Y/N realized how much she’d rattled on, how much of his precious world-saving time she’d taken up by a stupid mistake she made.

“Sorry,” she muttered, shying away from Bucky’s gaze. “Didn’t mean to bore you with my crap.”

“You don’t bore me. You could never.”

He had that love-sick look on his face as she gave him a small smile, and her eyes dropped back to the ground. Not that Y/N ever noticed, but Sam never stopped teasing him about that fucking look. The one where his eyes glimmered like stars in the night sky, and his lips involuntarily lifted up in the corners. More than once Steve had to tell him to close his mouth or someone would slip on his drool. And each time, Bucky would slap his friend on the back of his head.

“I’m not drooling,” he’d contest and go back to watching as Y/N moved around the lab, delicate fingers replacing whatever was fractured in his metal arm.

“No, saliva just generally spills out of your mouth when she’s around.”

Bucky would just grunt and say, ‘fuck off’. But he couldn’t help it really.

“Anyway." Y/N brought him out of the daydream. “Did you need anything? Is the arm acting up again?”

Although she'd never think that Bucky had any feelings for her, there was some suspicion rising in her mind. Tony was the acting engineer, but on more than one occasion he had called her up and asked if she was available to take a look at Bucky's vibranium appendage.

“Need some assistance, sweets,” the genius would mumble, and then when she would slip into work mode, he’d slyly exit the room and leave the two of them alone. And given how Tony knew, Y/N’s primary thing was chemistry and using the nanotech for cell regeneration, not engineering, it raised her suspicion level. Especially when the super-soldier came to her lab to have a check-up on days Tony was out specifically.

But she would never do anything about it. He could be standing at the altar with someone else in white walking towards him, and even then, Y/N, knowing it was her last chance, wouldn’t move a muscle to say what she felt. How could she when Bucky was the walking epitome of a Greek God while she tripped over her own feet while standing? For fuck’s sake, the man even fostered puppies in his spare time as if his day job wasn’t saving the world already how could her watching cells split in a petri dish match up to that?

“Oh, uh,” he stammered fidgeting with his fingers. “No, I uh, actually came to ask you something. Nothing work or arm… related.”

If Y/N’s heart wasn’t already beating out of her chest, she was pretty certain she’d vomit it up with the way he was looking at her. “Sure,” she whispered. “Umm, what do you want to know?”

He twisted a ring on his flesh arm. She had gotten it for him two years ago during a game of ‘Secret Santa’, which Tony promptly had added her to the list. It made her feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside for being included, but then dread settled in. What the fuck do you get a bunch of superheroes that could afford literally anything they wanted? And then she’d pulled Bucky’s name from the tacky Santa’s hat.

It wasn’t bad enough he was her crush, now she had to get him a gift he’d actually like, and she could barely hold a conversation with him that didn’t involve Avengers stuff. But from the looks of it, he had enjoyed the jewellery immensely, as any time he came over for whatever reason, he was wearing it. He liked it so much there was a lighter line of skin underneath the ring where the sun couldn’t get.

But the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Bucky just froze as Y/N stared at him with hopeful and inquisitive eyes. All the things he wanted to say and ask just vanished from his brain as if he’d been put back into that horrible machine that used to wipe his mind.

“Buck?” Her voice was small as his mouth hung open like an idiot. But he didn’t even get a chance to collect himself when Bruce rushed in.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but Y/N I need you. There’s a problem with the cradle.”

And that was her cue. With an apologetic smile, she pulled off her latex gloves and rushed out of the room, but not before leaning back in through the door. “Hopefully I should be done in two hours tops. Raincheck on that question?”

Bucky shook his head. “You know what, it wasn’t that important anyway.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, hand reaching out to touch him, but he pushed past her and was gone, leaving the woman a bit stunned, and in all honesty - heartbroken.

***

The rest of the day she spent in utter confusion, and Bucky in self-wallowing. Y/N couldn’t understand what had changed his mind so suddenly, what she’d done so wrong, and Bucky beat himself up the whole time about choking and running away. Which is why Steve was absolutely done with it.

As Bucky sulked on the couch, stuffing his face with M&Ms and the pop tarts he’d stolen from Thor’s stash, Steve with Natasha, Clint, Tony, Bruce and Y/N in tow, all came into the room.

Seeing her lab coat swish behind her as she walked, Bucky slid down into the couch even more, as if the granite gray leather could absorb him and erase him from existence. God, how he wanted to be erased from existence.

“Hey, Y/N?” Tony drew everyone’s attention as he handed a coffee to her. “Would you mind taking a look at F.R.I.D.A.Y’s intercom system? She’s gotten a bit rusty here.”

“Umm yeah.” She nodded, kinda confused as to why she'd have to do it, but Tony was her boss, so Y/N rarely asked him much. Unless something he said was absolutely dumb. “Mind getting me a ladder?”

With a wink from Steve, Clint nodded. “Sure.”

But instead of just him leaving, all of the Avengers slowly started to ‘disperse’ throughout the living-room, before bolting towards the hallway and telling the A.I. to shut everything down.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked looking around the common room, spotting the bright fiery hair of Natasha as she rushed out of the room, asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to override the lock code and not let either of them out. “Why are the doors locked?”

The smug smile she received from the assassin only infuriated Y/N more. “Tony!” she yelled through the glass, but the genius put hands over his ears and screamed back at her.

“Not until he talks to you!”

That’s when she felt someone towering over her from behind.

Two beautiful Y/E/C eyes looked up at him as Y/N turned around, confusion swimming in her irises. Bucky almost swore he passed out just from that look alone.

“Buck, what’s going on?"

The second he’d seen the group walk in, he knew what was happening. He wanted to murder all of them. Rip them apart piece by piece, but not in front of Y/N. No. He’d do that in the middle of the night, blending into the shadows and delivering slow and painful deaths to all of the conspirators.

But at the same time, this was his chance. There was literally nowhere for either of them to run unless you counted jumping out through the window and the ninety-story drop, you’d face. Which seemed very appealing to him at that moment, but Steve’s words rang through his head – ‘You’ll never know what it could lead to.” And he hoped it would lead to something beautiful, so taking a deep breath, Bucky confessed.

“Because I’m a coward…” he sighed, “and I can’t do it without someone telling me to.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared,” it came out as a whisper, and Y/N had to take a step back hurt flashing across her face thinking back to all of the times they’d spent together, while in truth Bucky’d been terrified of her.

“Of me?”

Instantly he shook his head seeing the pain on her features, and once more Bucky scolded himself. “No… of what your reaction might be.”

“Buck, you know I would never judge you. You can always talk to me… about anything.”

“Yes, but this will change things.”

“How?”

“I don’t know… that’s what I’m scared of. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Never. You could tell me you’re hiding a body in the tub, and I would offer you my help to get rid of it.”

And it was this firm statement that solidified his decision.

“Would you maybe,” Bucky exhaled deeply not daring to turn and look at the team that was gawking at both of them like hawks pressed against the glass, the same team that had bolted shut every door and window to prevent either of theirs escapes, “would you maybe want to go out… with… me… on a date?”

Y/N was stunned. The cup of coffee she was still holding in her hand went slack, and it would’ve smashed against the ground had Bucky not quickly stepped forward and caught it stepping to stand in front of her.

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, looking at the milk infused drink. It was a light beige colour with a white foamy swirl in the middle like a little vortex that was sucking him in. God did he hope it would pull him in and never let out after what he was going to say. “It’s just that… I really like you.” There. Now it was out there. “I really like you. And not the way a friend likes a friend. I like you in a way that I want to hold your hand when we walk out together. I want to buy you coffee in the mornings and wake you up with breakfast in the bed and smooth out the hair that’s fallen on your face…”

She wasn’t breathing as with every single word said Bucky seemed to move closer. “I think I might be in love with you, Y/N…” his hand gently lifted and cupped her cheek.

She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape, shallow breaths escaping into the air as her heart beat out of her chest in a manner, she thought it might hit Bucky directly in the stomach.

“Say something,” he pleaded, blue eyes searching for an answer in Y/N’s Y/E/C ones. “Please.”

“I – I don’t know what to say,” she whispered back. And it wasn’t because she didn’t feel the same, not at all. In fact, when he had started his whole confession, she felt like she was about to pass out from all the love that invaded her body, but the thing is - Y/N has never been good with emotions. She never knew how to process them, how to give the correct answer and make people happy. She was shy, awkward and a recluse. And now she was supposed to come out of her safety shell. Which is why for the first time in her life, she expressed herself with her actions by leaning up, grasping onto the nape up Bucky’s neck and pulling their mouths together.

When her lips touched his, Bucky knew there was no going back. Not that he’d ever want to. He couldn’t help the giant smile that bloomed on his face, as he pulled Y/N closer to him, wrapping his arm one around her waist, the other trailing up to settle between her shoulder blades, pushing their chests together, so impossibly close an ant couldn’t crawl between the two.

It became even more of a beautiful moment when Y/N’s own lips pulled up in a smile, breaking the kiss apart, but leaving them grinning and feeling dizzy from the happiness.

“Guess we needed a gentle nudge in the right direction,” Bucky gave out a small laugh, both palms securely resting on Y/N’s hips and bringing her closer.

“I’d say it was more of a shove with a rifle at our backs,” she said, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders fingers skimming against his clavicles and making his breath stop halfway to his throat. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere… the two of us without a bunch of people watching our every move.” Her eyes flitted over to where the rest of the team stood behind the doors listening in on the two, and suddenly the heads of their teammates disappeared from the view, making Y/N and Bucky shake their heads.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, squeezing her side. “That’s probably the best idea. You truly are a dream, aren’t ‘ya?”

Y/N could only chuckle and hide her face in the crook of Bucky’s neck as her hold tightened around his middle, and he responded much the same by weaving his fingers in the hairs on the back of her neck and pulling her closer if that was even possible, burying his nose in the Y/H/C locks.

“Don’t go all shy on me now.”

“Can’t,” she mumbled back. “You make me turn into mush.”

Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “A cute mush.”

“Shut up!”

And he did by pulling her in for another searing kiss. God, how he loved his shy girl.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea @california-grown @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @belongsto-prachi @hello-i-am-insane

Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @strangersstranger

A/N: have you ever hated your job so much so, that you can’t sleep, can’t eat and basically live in a well of anxiety? and not because of the work itself, but because of that ONE PERSON that makes it miserable? Cause I do. And I can’t wait to get away from it.

P.S. sorry for being so pessimistic, but it’s just a nightmare.

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated :) P.S.S.S. if you wanna be added to a taglist, drop me a message :)

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

The Archer and The Wrestler.

Written by: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 90: The Olympic committee is selling sponsorships and heavily advertising the upcoming games. The most photogenic of each sport is asked to pose for pics and attend functions, film commercial together, do some interviews. What sports represented by Katniss, Peeta, others? Required to look cozy? Animosity behind those smiles? Competitiveness? Banter? Any secrets? Do they have a “breakfast club” ending? by @567inpanem

______

Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark meet in the office of Trinket Advertising, where they have to shoot pictures for sponsors.

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Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt ! I had fun writing it :) PLus I could place it in my country which is always a plus. I hope you won’t be disappointed …

My deepest thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams for pre reading and betaing.

To @xerxia31 and @javistg thank you for hosting such a nice event … and So sorry for the delay !

__________________

I should be practicing, she thought, instead of pacing the long, white, corridor of Trinket Advertising.

Katniss still had a ton to do for the Games. Be sure to be fit, to be healthy, to be accurate. To shoot straight.

She really didn’t want to spend her afternoon waiting for some photographer to ask her to act natural in front of a camera. But she was just glad she didn’t have to shoot with someone from the team, as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to focus with the constant bickering between Johana and Gale or how Haymitch, their trainer, would “Sweetheart” this or that.

Still no clue as to why she had been picked to be the representative of her sport for the sponsors and advertising. She wasn’t really sure she knew what it entailed, how much time she would spend parading around the media instead of practicing. She knew archery wasn’t such a popular sport in the States, preventing her from spending huge amounts of time in talk shows, or interviews.

Plus, seeing the recognition made Prim, her sister, so proud and happy, Katniss hadn’t been able to turn down the offer when it came.

“Kathy Everdeen? You’re up next.” The assistant’s piercing voice echoed in the long corridor. Katniss closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to not correct the woman.

“Welcome to the Strange Name That Can’t Be Taken Seriously Club.” Another voice, male this time, made her open her eyes.

In front of her was a man of around her age, wearing the male version of the US Olympics shirt she had on..

Only his was stretched across his broad frame, where she was glad hers was loose around her lean body.

He extended his hand.

“Peeta Mellark. Wrestling. Founding member of the club.” She stared at his hand, before moving a step forward to shake it. “You’re the archer ? Katniss right?”

She stopped mid-movement. How could he know her name ?

“I saw your name on the list, so I figured you’d be next ?” He said, almost shyly, as if he had offended her, or invaded her privacy.

She saw the movement of his hand, that she had left unshaken, going to his hair, his fingers raking through his mane of curls.

He had done nothing wrong, she realized, just tried to clear the air. She took a breath, before extending her own hand in front of her.

“Yeah, I’m Katniss. Archery. How much is the subscription to the club?”

He laughed, before shaking her hand.

“How about tea after you’re done ?”

“Too bad I only drink coffee … but I guess if you can wait a bit, that’s doable.” Katniss almost smiled when Peeta started to laugh.

“Oh my goodness, I have a genius idea !” A voice froze their handshaking. “We are going to do pair shootings! Mix the sports together, along with the portraits. It’s going to be legendary !”

A woman with very pink hair matching her very pink outfit stood in the entrance leading towards the studio. As soon as she stopped talking, a flock of what Katniss could only think were assistants came in view, all clapping their hands or praising the Pink Lady.

“Effie, this is another grand idea! We should start right now with these two!” The woman that had misspelled Katniss’ name said, “as they are both here.”

“What are you waiting for, Octavia, take her to make-up right now! I need to call Plutarch, I am having a ton of ideas ! Hush hush, now come on, quickly!”

Katniss saw the assistants moving as one, starting to circle her and Peeta, moving them forward inside the studio, where a couple were checking their cameras and the large umbrellas reflecting the lights.

“Cinna, Portia, I had an epiphany!” The Pink Lady walked towards the couple as quickly as her pencil dress and very high heels allowed her, while Katniss was ushered to the make-up table. She noticed that Peeta was following right behind her, with the other half of the assistants. She met his gaze, saw him shrug before he was taken to another table, shielded from her view by the different makeup and hair artists around them.

“We’ll start with you, Kathy!” Octavia said a few minutes later. Katniss took another deep breath, calming her temper. In just a few minutes, she’ll be gone. Archery wasn’t high on the list of sponsors, nobody cared about them, but for the bow and arrows brands.

Katniss didn’t have time to muse as the sound of Octavia’s heels on the tiling started again. She rose from the chair, following the young woman towards a dressing cabin.

“You’ll find your uniform inside. You’re a S, right?”

“How do you know?” Katniss asked, surprised that the woman guessed correctly.

“I have an eye for that. Plus, it’s written on your card.”

She repressed another eyeroll, trying to keep in mind that Octavia was only doing her job, before she entered the dressing cabin.

White pants, blue polo lined with red, and a white undershirt to protect her arms. The standard equipment.

Yet, it was something to see it, to realize she would represent her country in the most important tournament there could be, that she had achieved one of her goals. To be an Olympian.

She took the polo, turning it slowly, almost afraid to read what was on the back.

Everdeen.

Her father’s name, embroidered in the cotton of the shirt.

Pride rushed through her veins as her fingers traced the letters.

“I did it, Papa. I’m going to the Olympics.”

______________________

It was now official. She hated photoshoots. First, because it was taking an awful lot of time, then because you had to smile. All.the.time. That Katniss hasn’t screamed yet or ran off the door was entirely due to her willpower gained from years of training.

The photographer, Cinna, wasn’t a talker. He was taking his time to snap picture after picture, never acknowledging Octavia or Effie’s advice for her to smile this way, or that way. Because there was apparently a way to smile properly.

She could feel her anger rise with each passing minute, the incessant chatter of the women, the silence of the photographer, the heat from the spotlights, the wind from the huge fans, the itching from the label of the polo on her neck…

“I think it’s time to pair them up.” The photographer’s voice calmly said, silencing the two women.

From being Effie and Octavia, Peeta made his way towards the scene where Katniss was standing.

Before anyone could say a thing, Cinna turned to Effie and his assistant.

“Ladies, can you please check if we have athletes that can be paired tomorrow too? I’m sorry to ask in such short notice, but I think Effie’s idea is something we have to work on.. of course it will mean you change all the schedules..”

“Oh, my, Cinna, but yes, of course! If you think so ? But will you be able to manage with these two?” Effie Trinket asked. Katniss could feel the sharpness of her gaze as the older woman looked at her.

“If there is the slightest problem, I’ll make sure Portia comes to get you.”

“Yes, please. Because if we can manage to pair Brutus and Enobaria, we might be on something, right?”

“Right.” Cinna nodded, before moving towards his material, his back to Katniss as he rummaged through his material.

She looked at her partner in the photoshoot, who seemed as lost as she was. He kept running his hand in his mane of blond hair, before shoving them in his pockets. Seconds after, he was doing the same movements again. She realized she was doing the same, undoing the end of her braid before redoing it, over and over again.

She really couldn’t wait to be out of the studio.

“Will you two stand back to back, please?” Cinna’s voice startled her, even though it was barely over a whisper. “Portia, can you please close the door?”

That’s when she realized how silent the place was without Effie and Octavia. Without their neverending chatter, their disapproving tongue clicks, or their exaggerated sighs.

It almost felt … good.

Almost.

She started to move then, turning her back to Peeta, before crossing her eyes, hoping he would take the hint to do the same. The sooner they were done, the better. She had her bow waiting for her, after all.

She felt the fabric of Peeta’s polo on her arm, yet, never his weight on her back.

She looked at Cinna, who nodded approvingly, before starting to take pictures.

“Should we smile?” She heard Peeta’s deep voice right behind her, asking the question she didn’t dare ask.

“Do what you want, don’t mind me.” the photographer answered behind his material.

“What we want?” Katniss echoed, unsure she had heard correctly. The previous hour had been filled with recommendations on what to do, on poses to take, on how to smile …

Cinna lowered his camera.

“I’m not Effie. Beauty is everywhere, it doesn’t have to be faked by poses or false smiles. Just do what you two want.” He shrugged before checking something on his camera. “I’ll need a few minutes to fix this, try to relax.”

Katniss turned to her partner in shooting, to realize he had already moved and was facing her.

“You told me you were a coffee girl, right?”

“Yup. Black, no sugar.”

“I don’t take sugar in my tea, either. See we have something in common.” Peeta put his hands high. “Oh, no high five ? We’re not close enough yet.”

“Definitely not, singlet boy.”

“Ouch, that hurts. Know, Miss Everdeen, that a lot of women find that uniform .. appealing.” He raised his eyebrows, wiggling them explicitly.

“I bet they do. The main question is, do you have to shave your torso, so your opponent won’t have the opportunity to pull at your chest hair ?”

Katniss didn’t know what came to her to ask such a question. It was like Peeta made it easy for her to talk, when she usually wasn’t famous for speaking or making her voice heard without shouting.

It was like he had a calm, soothing temper, like a lazy river, ready to cover the fire that was in her.

Maybe they made a good pair.

“Yeah, the worst is the wax under the armpit.” He deadpanned, not even letting a smile on his face.

She could totally imagine him taken down to “Beauty Base Zero” as the woman at the beauty parlor had told her the only time she went there. It included all sorts of treatments, each worse than the others. She even told her sister to not gift her with that kind of torture anymore.

“Ouch.. I hope your girlfriend covers you in aloe after that …”

Katniss knew she wasn’t the most girly woman around, yet she sometimes put on mascara or had her legs waxed from time to time, mostly for competitions when she had decided to wear the short-skirts or the long bermudas.

“Well, meet Hanna, my girlfriend.” Peeta said casually, showing his right hand, wiggling his eyebrows - again.

It took Katniss a few seconds to catch up on the double-entendre.

“Oh, my, you’re disgusting!” Her words couldn’t completely hide her smile. There was something to this man that somehow made her want to talk, to speak, to even trust him.

“I bunked with Finnick Odair at the Youth Olympic Games. That was disgusting! He shaves himself ! the room was full of his hair!”

“Well, you could have collected them before putting them on Ebay. You’d be rich by now.”

“I should have, yes. Dam, why didn’t I know you back then to give me good advice!”

“I wasn’t at the YOG.”

“I know, I would have noticed you.”

She looked at him, with questions in her mind. His eyes were blue, so clear nothing was shadowing them, she was left without words.

Click.

—-

Katniss couldn’t believe she was at the Olympics. In Paris, France. That her childhood dream of bringing a golden medal home was nothing but a few arrows away. A lot of stress, too. She raised her bow, lining the target with her eye, throwing a quick glance to the small flags lining the area to check the wind, took a deep breath, before letting go of the arrow.

She knew right away that it would miss the center of the target. A breath of hair on the right, still not enough to get full marks. She had underestimated the wind on this large, open area that the Esplanade des Invalides was.

“Not too bad.” She jumped at the voice behind her. Maybe some kind of volunteer that had been allowed inside the arenas for training. She needed to focus on the target, on the little golden area that would make her mark a ten in the competition.

She took another arrow from the quiver on her left hip, slid it in the bow, looked at the wind, took a deep breath, lifted her weapon, aimed at the target. With the next exhalation of air, she let go of the arrow, knowing right away it would hit the center.

She had never been able to explain how she knew, each and every time how her arrow would behave. It was a feeling, a sensation, deep inside of her.

Thunk !

She looked at the target, saw that indeed the arrow was in the yellow area. She almost let a smile show on her mouth, when the same voice distrubed her again.

“You might win if you shoot like that.”

Katniss closed her eyes, letting a sigh escape before turning to face whoever decided to disturb her training.

“Peeta!” She felt a smile forming on her face. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I was practising, then decided to go for a walk. It’s Paris after all!”

“Here?” Katniss was pretty sure she hadn’t seen any other sport on the green grass in front of the Invalides.

“Oh, not here here, over there!” Peeta turned, his right hand moving over his shoulder, showing the Eiffel Tower. “Wrestling is on the Champ de Mars, at the feet of the tower”

“Really? You’ll have to tell me when you’re in the tournament. So I can come and see you.”

Peeta’s hand went to his head, his fingers raking through his mane of golden curls.

“You’re sure ? If the press sees you there….”

“I’ll tell them I came to support a friend.”

“But you know how the paparazzi are …”

“We’re in France, not the US, nobody cares about archery or wrestling - no offense intended.”

“None taken.”

Peeta looked around, before coming closer to the barriers surrounding the archery arena, then leaning slightly on them, giving Katniss the opportunity to see the muscles in his forearms. She wondered briefly if he already had his waxing treatment.

“Something on your mind, Everdeen?”

Who was he again? A mind-reader ? She quickly turned her eyes from his arms, not lingering on the broad expense of his chest, or how bright his eyes were.

“Yup. I have to finish training if I don’t want to look too ridiculous when the competition starts.”

“What do you say we try one of these cafés when you’re done?” he casually asked. Katniss could see something in his eyes - was it hope ?

Damn, was he playing unfair by throwing coffee into the mix. As if she was known to refuse a cup.

“I still have a few minutes of practice, maybe a raincheck?”

He shrugged, before looking around. “I’m in no rush. I can wait. Patience is a virtue, young grasshopper.”

She nodded, before taking another arrow out of her quirrel.

“Yes, Sensei.”

The arrow hit the center of the target.

———————–

Katniss knew she shouldn’t be there. Not that she didn’t want to, but after pictures of her and Peeta laughing in a small café had hit the stands, her phone hadn’t stopped beeping, demanding a confirmation if there was something going on between the two of them. That, perhaps, all the rumors that had been born after the photoshoot with Cinna, were not rumors at all.

Effie Trinket was, of course, delighted. Jo wouldn’t stop asking about LoverBoy, Gale was threatening to beat the shit out of Peeta (Katniss was almost ready to let him try to do that), and Haymitch kept on asking her if her little romance would damage her results in the field.

Everything was peachy.

Yet, she couldn’t find it in her to regret the time she had spent with Peeta. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, that she had been able to confide to someone as she had done with him, how he had been open to her too. Like two old friends rekindling a friendship after spending years apart.

Friends they could have been, they had realized when discussing their native places. They had grown up about a hundred miles apart, in the same district of West Virginia. They could have crossed paths about a dozen times, sharing memories of the Meadow Park, where they both had spent time, Katniss had even worked there when they were younger.

Sometime during their afternoon chat, a photographer had spotted them, recognized them, and snapped pictures.

That was a trending subject on Twitter minutes later, before someone even created a ship name for them. The hashtag #Everlark trended for more than a day.

Katniss had pushed her phone away, blocked all the numbers she didn’t know, called Peeta to apologize, before focusing solely on her training.

Her perfect plan had crumbled in hours, when Peeta had caught her in the Victor’s Village Cafeteria, explaining how he was sorry for everything, as the idea of coffees had been his.

They had ended up sharing a meal with Gale and Jo, as well as some of Peeta’s teammates, who kept joking about the Everlark hashtag. In a matter of two hours Katniss was laughing with them, the pain of Effie’s scheme forgotten.

That was why she was currently in the corridors of the Arena where Judo and Wrestling competitions were being held. Her own tournament was starting in two days and Katniss would rather watch sports she didn’t understand, then stay in her room, anxiously waiting for her turn to compete.

Maybe it was time for her to play team mate too. She had put on her US Team attire, gotten her accreditations cards, before jumping into one of the buses that led her to the Champ de Mars.

She hadn’t seen Peeta since breakfast the morning before, when she had forgotten to ask him if he was still okay for her to come.

The building was elegantly sitting on the green grass. In the back, she could see the Eiffel Tower, all dressed up in her beauty and dignity.

In a few minutes she had found the hall with the wrestlers, and a seat in the ranks reserved for athletes. She recognized Thom and Thresh, two of Peeta’s teammates, who waved at her. She talked to them for a few minutes, learning their categories were competing in the coming days.

“Peeta should be in two matches.” Thresh informed her as she sat on the plastic seat. “He should make it to the quarters easily. After…”

“After?” She asked, unsure what THresh meant.

“After, in the quarters he should face Katø, the Russian. A beast. “

“A beast?”

“Yeah, 164 pounds of malice and nastiness.”

“Charming… Maybe someone will eat this Katø first ?”

Thresh shook his head.

“Na, not with this draw. His first worthy opponent will be Peeta.”

She looked at Thresh, thinking back to the afternoon she had spent with Peeta, remembering what he had told her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, her cheeks still hurt. They had walked away from the Olympic Archery range, following the banks of the Seine, looking at the amazing monuments, walking by the Musee d’Orsay that Peeta had told her he wanted to visit.

They had crossed the river on a wooden bridge only for pedestrians, walked along the Louvre, until they had found a small café near the Palais Royal where they were still sitting.

“You all have bread names? Why? “

Peeta shrugged, before leaning down a little on the metallic table, as if he was about to confide his deepest secret.

“We own a bakery, back in Panem. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you my real name …”

She laughed, leaning over the table too. She felt bold enough to run her hand on his definitely toned forearm, letting her finger wander up to his shoulder.

She saw the color of his eyes change from crystal blue to a darker shade, heard him take a breath in.

But Katniss was on a mission.

She leaned closer to him, her hand coming closer to his neck, her nimble fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

She could feel him tense under her touch, and lifted her eyes, to find his locked on her, as if he wanted to get lost in her. It took Katniss a few seconds to return to her task. With a movement of her wrist, she grabbed his accreditation cards, pulling them over his head before leaning back into her seat.

“That’s disappointing, actually. Your name is Mark ? Mark Mellark ?”

“Because your name is really Katniss?”

She put down his accreditations, took hers from around her neck, holding them out to him. He took them with a smirk before looking at the name written on them.

“Your name is really Katniss?”

“Yep. My mom’s Lily, my dad is Alon, and my sister is Primrose. You’re a bread family, we are a plant family.” She snatched the cards from his hands. “ You’re lucky you didn’t bet a thing, Mark Mellark.”

“Don’t call me Mark.” He grumbled, leaning back onto his chair.

“Well, then if you don’t want the world to call you Mark, you know what’s left to do, Mellark!”.

She casually put down his cards on the table, taking her time to lean back too.

“Oh? And that would be, Sensei ?”

“Easy, Grasshopper. Make sure you don’t get a medal.”

“That, Robin Hood, is not an option.”

The steadiness, the certainty of his voice made her shiver. Or maybe it was the wind, coming from large trees nearby. Surely the trees, she thought.

“I mean,” he started “ we all came here for a reason, and it’s not to give someone else our place on the podium. Plus with all the visibility we have this year, we have to give it our best, right?”

She nodded. That was what they had to do, what they had trained for, what they were in France for.

“Katniss?” Thom’s voice took her out of her memories.

“Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

“Look down, on the mat. The guy in blue? It’s Katø.”

“That’s a man? He looks like a mountain of muscles …”

“Well, he is a mountain of muscles … “ The referee interrupted Thom’s sentence with the start of the first period. “That won’t take long, he isn’t known for dancing around.”

Katniss watched as the blond man, so different from Peeta rushed into his opponent, pinning him on the mat in a few seconds.

“Told you. That lasted 25 seconds, he won’t be tired for the next round.” Thom said. “Peeta’s next.”

Katniss nodded searching the ground until she spotted him, wearing a red singlet.

“Why is he wearing red ? Blue is a better color for him.” She asked, her eyes trained on the now familiar figure walking towards the mat. Damn, these singlets left little to the imagination. To say they were fit-forming was the understatement of the year. She could see all the lines of Peeta’s muscles moving as he approached the fighting zone.

“Because he’ll be the first one called. It’s the rules.” She turned towards Thresh, who had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen him don.

“Why are you smiling?” She was wondering what had been so funny in her words.

“‘Blue is a better color for him’ - you sound like -”

“Be careful, Thresh. She shoots arrows…” Thom interrupted. “Now if you want to see Peeta wrestle, maybe you can look at the mat ?”

With a last threatening glance towards Thresh that was met with another huge smile and air kisses, Katniss turned towards the arena, noticing how different Peeta’s posture was from Katø’s.

“He’s going to tire the Georgian who isn’t as flexible as he is. And as soon as there will be an opening, he’ll go for it.” Thom explained, as she watched the complicated dance of joint locks, takedowns, and other things she had no idea what they were.

“This must be exhausting…” she whispered, as she saw Peeta finally going for the pin, immobilizing his opponent on the mat.

“Well, it’s not crochet that’s for sure!” Thresh chimed into her thoughts as the crowd applauded the winner of the match.

This was going to be a long day.

__________________

She needed to focus, now. Forget she was in the final of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Forget her dream was an arrow away. Forget she needed a nine to win the gold.

She had to remember the wind, how it came lightly from the right to the left, how she needed to bend the trajectory just a little. She had to calm her beating heart.

To forget Peeta was in the stands, watching. Katniss had cheered him on as he won his own gold medal two days ago, but now it was her moment.

She needed to forget.

The way he had chased her when she tried to make a quiet exit.

To forget how they had kissed.

Their own celebration.

She had to clear her mind of all this.

Forget. Focus.

A deep breath.

Visualizing the arrow hitting the center of the target.

The chronometer was ticking. Tick. Tock.

It was her last arrow. Her concurrents had already shot their own.

She needed a nine.

Only twelve seconds remain.

She rose her bow.

Eleven seconds.

Remembered her father’s proud look when she had won her first trophy.

She let the arrow fly.

She knew it would be a ten.

She had won the gold.

She fell to her knees, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes.

“I did it, Papa, I won … I hope you’re proud..”

The applause around her made her lift her head, then stand up, before she ran towards the stands, her bow still in hand, her eyes fixed on a figure that was coming down the stairs, towards her.

She felt his arms around her as he hugged her over the bleachers, felt his hands going to her face as he looked into her eyes.

“You remember to shoot straight, Grasshopper…” he whispered, for the two of them only.

“Yes, Sensei”, she replied before kissing him.

Click.

FIN

#thegirlfromoverthepond #567inpanem #prompt 90 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis · 3 years

Text

like other girls - in defense of lauren mallory (pt. 3)

life goes on.

the volleyball team crashes unceremoniously out of the season at regionals. when lauren shows up at lunch the next day each of her friends is holding a balloon with you did your best (probably) written on it in sharpie. she feigns offense--and then lunges out with her fork, popping mike’s so quickly that he yelps and falls out of his chair, and she laughs until her lungs hurt.

the other four, she ties to her backpack and totes around until she gets to stats and mr. cogan tells her she’s causing a disruption.

by thanksgiving, lauren’s dad is in forks, not seattle, and mr. weber hasn’t invited any of his congregation over this year, so the mallory-stanley-weber conglomerate descends on angela’s house, like they have on-and-off ever since elementary school.

lauren helps her parents haul an overwhelming number of sides out of their car, mrs. weber makes menudo instead of turkey, and mr. stanley waltzes in with four pies--three pumpkin, and one apple. the argument over the leftovers is warm and well-worn, and lauren rolls her eyes as she hands off clean dishes for jess to dry so that angela can shelve them.

when the adults break out the wine and expand over the table, lauren and jess follow angela back to her room. they attempt monopoly, until jess catches lauren sneaking one 500 too many out of the bank and slaps her hand, accidentally sending an entire row of houses flying across angela’s blue comforter, and they switch, laughing, to uno.

(it’s better than nothing, lauren tells herself, over and over again, ignoring the ache in her stomach, the itch in her fingertips that’s sometimes more like burning. it’s jess, it’s your best friend, that matters more than--than--)

the mallorys spend christmas break in seattle with lauren’s grandma--andrew even flies in from vermont.

lauren does all of her gift-shopping in bright malls with soaring ceilings, breathing in the chatter of the crowds, and ducking into coffee shops whenever she feels like it. they even watch a professional ballet troupe do the nutcracker one night. she lies awake in her dark guest room, dizzily exhausted, and thinks this, i want this, i want to be somewhere just like this.

on new year’s eve, lauren perches on her desk, (they've only been back two days, so her armchair is still hosting the contents of a half-unpacked suitcase), nursing a cup of tea and flipping through a fashion magazine from her grandmother's coffee table. an engine sputters outside her open window--she glances out just in time to see tyler crowley’s van skid to a halt on the curb.

for a moment, lauren panics--then jess sticks her head out a window and yells he’s got fireworks! get down here!

they rattle up to the cliffs and pile out of the van. they weigh the blankets down on the rocks with mike's electric lantern, huddle together for warmth, passing around drinks, and tell stories about their winter breaks--mike almost broke an arm, apparently, the one day it snowed, bailing at the last possible second from a sled tied to the back of connor's truck.

at 11:58, they crowd around mike’s glow-in-the-dark watch, counting down to midnight--and then they shower sparks out over the ocean.

red and green and gold go whizzing out into the air, and they whoop, watching the clouds light up for split seconds, over and over.

lauren glances at jess. the colors are shimmering on her on her flushed cheeks, catching in her dark eyes as she stares up to the sky and cheers, bright and wild enough that lauren can feel it humming in her bones.

angela wanders up behind her, and jess spins to grab her by the shoulders, shouting something and laughing--and lauren loves both of them so much she has no idea how to carry it--

angela catches lauren's gaze and smiles--it’s soft, and this one lauren knows exactly how to read. jess sees it and spins--and lauren watches her eyes get even brighter as she waves her over.

it's enough. it's more than enough.

get over here! jess repeats, and lauren does.

they go back to school, and it's--normal.

lauren drags her grades up a few percentages now that she doesn't have practices to worry about. tyler stops by the lunch table to invite them all to the basketball games--and even looks at lauren when he says it--and they agree. angela's stress about the yearbook starts bubbling over--she keeps missing lunches, spending them in ms. kimble's classroom editing instead, and lauren and jess take turns ambushing her on the way to biology with snacks.

and then the police chief’s daughter comes back to forks, and jess drags her to the lunch table, beaming.

lauren scowls. toys with a fork. watches mike--who jess has been desperately, quietly crushing on for months now--bounce and bumble into the new girl’s orbit. watches edward fucking cullen stare at her too--and of course she stares back, tuning jess out completely, because that’s not rude at all--

and she watches jess. asking questions, sharing gossip, offering all their little lunch group’s jokes and stories and meetups up to this nobody--

lauren’s sitting too far down the table to kick bella swan’s chair, but for a petty second, she wants to. she grits her teeth, doing her best to ignore it.

she doesn’t think about how tentative everything feels right now, how close to crashing down around her--she’s never made friends easily, she knows, she’s heard her parents and her teachers cluck about it all her life, but it never mattered because she had jess and she had angela and now jess is latching on to this new girl like--like--

angela flags her down in the parking lot after school that friday and invites her over. (lauren doesn't know whether to be grateful that she doesn't have to keep turning over this bitter anger alone, or hurt that it's this obvious she needs--something--right now.)

the twins are at soccer practice, and mrs. weber on the sidelines, so they have the house to themselves. they play music as loud as angela's little cd player will let them, and spread the nail polish out on the living room floor instead of the bathroom, leaning back against the soft gray couch as they talk.

angela starts with a simple white, and lauren uncaps a vivid, glittering green.

i just--who does she think she is? lauren erupts finally, when they've exhausted the upcoming math test and rumors that principal mckinley's finally going to be fired and eric's new dog. just because she's from fucking--new mexico or whatever, she thinks she can waltz in here and the entire school will just roll over for her! it's such bullshit!

i don't think that's what she wants, angela says calmly, she seems pretty shy. she didn't ask for jess to pay attention to her.

well then i'm mad at jess, lauren spits--and is unspeakably glad that angela doesn't look up, just keeps tracing the rainbow she's painting onto her big toe. she didn't ask. she didn't think about what we--whether we wanted to deal with some weird new kid--who is the literal police chief's daughter, by the way--she doesn't care that bella clearly doesn't give a shit about anything except the cullens, she just--she should care, and she doesn't!

the words hang in the air, and lauren is surprised to find tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. she's dug her hands into fists, and the still-wet green is streaked across her palms.

angela recaps her little purple jar carefully--then lays her cheek on her knees and her eyes on lauren, cautious and far too knowing behind her glasses. can i ask you something?

lauren locks her eyes out the window. sunlight seeps weakly through the clouds, bouncing off blue curtains that she accidentally smeared peanut butter all over the summer after second grade, when mike showed up in angela's driveway out of nowhere and they all piled into the window to gawk.

sure, she says--far too aware of angela clicking the cd player off, of the huge and empty silence in the little house.

do you have a crush on jessica?

for a second, it feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. with fireworks bursting out over the black ocean above and lighting up the underbellies of clouds. like the dizziness of looking down, down, down to a black depth, where the only hint of an end is lines of white that must be waves, crashing against rocks that are hidden by the night--

i think i might. lauren's voice is smaller than she's heard it in years.

okay, angela says, hey, lauren, it's okay! and it's not until angela's arm goes around her shoulders that lauren realizes she's crying.

you shouldn't--she tries, and angela just squeezes tighter, so lauren lets herself crumple onto her friend's shoulder and cry.

when there’s nothing but silence left, angela shifts around to sit in front of lauren, who leans her aching head back on the couch cushions--she can’t look, she can’t--

listen, angela says--grabs lauren’s hands and squeezes. i don’t care, okay? whatever...whatever my dad says, whatever anyone says, i don’t--it’s okay. you’re okay. it doesn’t change anything.

sometimes i wish it would, lauren tells the ceiling, and angela is quiet.

it won’t be like this forever, she finally says.

something deep in lauren settles. she breathes--her eyes are raw and her throat is sore and her hands are a little bit shaky between angela’s cool palms, but she’s breathing.

i still don’t like the new girl, she says, and angela sighs--lauren can hear the laugh behind it.

come on. let’s go find the polish remover and redo this.

(prev) (next)

#lauren mallory #jessica stanley #angela weber #listen. angela+lauren friendship makes me feel a lot of things #i just #god #aargh

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karasunology · 4 years

Text

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ KAGEYAMA TOBIO & OIKAWA TOORU AS YOUR OLDER BROTHER ! ❞

╰─ ─ ﾟheadcanons of two of our pretty setters being your older brothers !

✐ . . . BIG BROTHER HEADCANONS.

[ MIYA TWINS & BOKUTO KOUTARO VERSION. ] [ SUNA RINTAROU & KITA SHINSUKE VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ kageyma tobio, oikawa tooru <3

[ trigger warnings ━ manga spoilers !! ]

-ˏˋ ✉️ REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

⇣ please read the RULES before requesting.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO.

➜ the type of older brother that acts as if he doesn't care but he actually does.

➜ he acts as if that one time where no one from his family but you actually came to one of his volleyball games ─ well, besides from your guys' grandfather; but ever since of his passing, the clostest ─ tangible and most concrete reminants of him were just lingering in the form of a volleyball.

➜ he acts as if the absence of most of his family members didn't affect him and yet, he usually found himself looking for them in the stands ─ hoping that they'd be there cheering him on

➜ he was used to always being left alone when it was just him and his older sister but then you came along

➜ when you were young, you would always cling onto him for your dear life for some reason

➜ and ever since tobio was young, he somewhat had difficulties expressing himself so it was no surprise that he usually shakes you off violently off your tight graps

➜ like how can someone with so little hands be so strong at holding him down??

➜ he wasn't used to these affections, and the start of your guys' sibling relationship was quite rocky

➜ but now when he remembers those times where you hated to jog but you would always, ALWAYS, find yourself catching up to him

➜ slowley, gradually & subtly

➜ just to match up to his pace so you guys would jog together

➜ and then he realizes, that he wasn't alone anymore

➜ bb boy had you right next to him

➜ ugh enough about angst people

➜ LETS GET TO THE GOOD GOOD

➜ SPA DAYS ARE A THING

➜ SORRY YOU DON'T MAKE THE RULES

➜ I DO

➜ since he is a setter, he needs his fingers and nails in tip-top shape yknow?

➜ since you're one of the only persons he trusts his life onto, he makes you do it

➜ like it's not even because of whatever gender you are

➜ you will do his nails, and you WILL learn to do the best manicure this boy could ever get

➜ because all you want was the best for the best older brother ever.

➜ and that's how he always had healthy clean nails & is always manicured

➜ and it's ON YOU

➜ he would never, NEVER let anyone else do his nails

➜ you would 100% go along with his finger exercise thingy

➜ and these spa days usually ends in a sleepover with facemasks on miwa-nee left in her drawers

➜ kageyama may not show it, but he really appreciates you

➜ like alot

➜ you had all the reasons to deny him of his spa days, matches, etc.

➜ but you choose to stay, to learn how to manicure, to skip school and go to his matches & give him the support he was deprived off

➜ like if this blueberry boyo ever offered to share you his mILK, while you guys already have seperate milk cartons in the fridge

➜ you know that he holds you so close, and so fucking dear to his heart that it's going to make me crYyyY

➜ he's not good at expressing his emotions, but he will do everything in his will to make it known to you that you are important to him

➜ he'll always walk with you to school and go home with you whenever he doesn't have volleyball practice

➜ if he noticed that you're feeling down or stressed he'll take you away from whatever that is & will force you to play volleyball with him

➜ just so that you could get your mind off from it

➜ if you forget your lunch money, he'll buy you two mini milk box with curry buns on the side

➜ and then when you guys go home he'll force you to make bento with him until it's late at night in a school night with tons of food on your closed because y'all forgot to use an apron lmao

➜ he's always so stiff with receiving affections and giving one

➜ but he's so good at giving headpats

➜ and he only does it on you

➜ his warm huge hand in comparison to your head, and it'll always be the best way he could convey his emotions

➜ it's through the familiar, homey feeling of the palm of his hands

➜ he's the type to have one picture with you and his grandfather together that's literally so old, it doesn't need those vintage aesthetic effects to make it look vintage

➜ he'll also the type to carry it around in his wallet ALWAYS, but forgets to bring money?? for?? some?? reason??

➜ 11/10 would recommend as a brother

➜ in conclusion, he may not be the best at showing affections and giving them, but you'll always be reminded in different and special ways that he loves you so much; you'll always have each other's back & would stay in each other's side, always.

➜ like harry potter typa shit always.

OIKAWA TOORU.

➜ he's the type of brother that is ALWAYS UP YOUR FUCKING BUSSINESS

➜ he already has his head up his ass, you don't want him to be up on yours as well

➜ he'll always be up on your room & he's very very clingy, like a lot

➜ fights are an ALWAYS

➜ y'all would fight about many things honestly

➜ probably most of the reason would be because you're just fed up on him

➜ you would DEFINITELY JOIN IWAIZUMI ON BULLYING HIM & WOULD DEF JOIN ON HITTING HIM

➜ but even if things are serious, like that one time where he's just so exhausted of EVERYTHING, because why the fuck won't his serves be good enough?

➜ and he'll just breakdown in front of you, pouring his heart out on how they lost again to ushijima in the semi-finals

➜ he'll also spill out all his insecurities about volleyball because even if it may not seem like it, he gets insecure too 👉👈

➜ and you'll just be there, listening since you know that he wasn't looking and asking for advice ─ he just wanted someone, anyone to listen to him

➜ you'll let him cry out whatever was bothering him for the past few weeks while comfort his huge frame since he collapsed onto your shoulder

➜ oKAy ENOUGH ANGST I AM SO SORRY

➜ i hate myself too, don't worry💅💋

➜ while you guys were young, he'd always be up on your room, and would be playing dolls or cars or shit with you

➜ he's just so used to being with you

➜ that when you got sick and had to go to a hospital and they wouldn't let him visit you, he cried for the first time in years

➜ he'll be stuck on your side by the time you were discharged

➜ he plays volleyball with you along with iwaizumi

➜ he'll also make you come with him while along with iwaizumi to meet his volleyball idol

➜ you'll also be the first person to know what his plans for the future is

➜ and you'll support him through and through, you guys would even consider going with him to argentina

➜ and he wouldn't disagree

➜ he's the type of brother that knows 12762 of your crushes, your passwords, that page 24 of tour diary he stole that says “ tooru-nii isn't kinda that annoying ” that he framed up on his bedroom

➜ he has a shit ton of blackmail material on you

➜ since it's canon that he adores his family, he'll have many polaroid pictures of your guys' family up on his wall

➜ and of course of you guys seperately on picture frames on his desk, ranging from that one time you almost drowned taken at the right timing, to that picture of you and him when you graduated junior high.

➜ speaking of pictures

➜ he'll be SPAMMING YOUR PHONE WITH PICTURES OF HIM

➜ weird ass selfies of his and those forced cute faces that you wanted to burn in hell

➜ and a LOT of selfies with you guys on it

➜ since he knows your password to your phone, he'll change your lockscreen wallpaper to a cute selfie of you guys

➜ he'll never make you change it

➜ reason #1672 why you don't have a bf/gf

➜ you'll ALWAYS find him scrolling through YOUR phone

➜ he'd be watching tiktoks not giving a fuck

➜ while you're just there like

➜ that's MY phone sir 👁👄👁

➜ 11/10 would have a section of his family scrapbook of you guys & it's either showing your attractive oikawa genes

➜ or it's shitty photos of you guys

➜ nothing in between

➜ since we talked about your phone, let's talk about his

➜ you would not let him spam your phone and ruin your phone storage with pictures of him and selfies of you guys without doing the same with him

➜ like DUH

➜ his phone would be FILLED of crazy crackhead pictures of you guys

➜ and he'll have one of your cute selfies as his lockscreen wallpaper

➜ matching the one he set up on your phone

➜ and of he ever has a girlfriend/boyfriend, you HAVE to meet them first

➜ and even if you may not see it, your opinions is held quite mighty high for oikawa

➜ and of course he's like that with you too, he better know the address of your boyfriend/girlfriend, their number, and he WILL do a whole ass background check on him

➜ but you know he does that not only to have your underwear in a twist, he kinda 👉👈 cares about you & as you care about him

➜ 12/10 would recommend as a brother

➜ in conclusion, you guys may sometimes be up on each other's ass, but you guys care a lot about each other and will not hesitate to beat someone's ass for the other because no one but him could bully you, and vice versa ( + iwa-chan )

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . will be making this a mini series of big brother headcanons bECAUSE WHY NOT, like WHY NOT; ya get me?? i fucking love wholesome family headcanons & would 1000% write domestic hcs and dad! hcs.

again, requests are open !

one request = one more reason to stay sane

watch out for new dating headcanons of two cute setters 💅

send me an ask or even a comment on you want to see next in the big brother series because i'm wh0re for that, also i finally revived my phone but without it being formatted so i have to redo the requests i wrote. so before i post them since they are not quite done yet, have this.

546 notes · View notes

wendystales · 3 years

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Sixteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Fifteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Seventeen

Luke pov.

“Do it again.” Ashton asks, staring at me intently.

We were about to leave my house for my surprise party, which I discovered in less than an hour. I was rehearsing a face of surprise so as not to end the surprise, cause I know everyone worked hard for it.

I widen my eyes, breaking into a smile.

“I can't believe you deceived me.” I say with my voice altered by the ‘surprise’.

“Don't say that, it will be very obvious that you know. Says ‘I can't believe you threw a party for me’.” he suggests.

"I can't believe you threw a party for me." I redo the entire acting.

“Yep! Me either. But what doesn't M&Ms ask, that I don't do?” Ash dries the water bottle with a shrug. “I'm just kidding.” he laughs after seeing my face.

“Speaking of her…” I fill my glass with some more wine, since it's too early for us to go. “Something new?” Ashton denies, frustrated too.

“I commented that she was acting weird, but she just changed the conversation and said that she's been busy and that she was nervous about the party.” he sighs. I massage my forehead, annoyed.

"Am I going to have to put her against the wall to get something?" I look at him, not knowing what to do.

“You know this isn't going to work. She's going to run away, you're going to fight, she's going to walk away and you're going to be more annoying than you already are.” I appreciate my friend's attempt to change the mood with provocation, but it has no effect.

"I can't find any reason to give me any sign of what's going on. Was it my fault? I knew I shouldn't have stayed with her that Saturday, I pushed the situation too hard and now she's pulling away, avoiding me-”

“Oh shut up! Don't even start with that.” Irwin raises his voice, cutting mine off. "Marnie isn't like that, she doesn’t do these things. If she wasn't comfortable she was going to talk. You said yourself that she asked you to sleep there. She let you pick her up on Monday and asked you to take her home, even after you dedicated Best Years to her. She didn't run away there, because it was remarkable how much she liked the song. You should pay more attention to the way she looks at you.”

A silly laugh escapes my lips when I see Ashton imitate her looking at me and smiling. My heart warms at the possibility that she is actually falling in love with me, just as I already am with her.

"Luke, if she didn't want to get back together, she wouldn't open up so many gaps and opportunities for you to be together. She must just be confused about the feelings. That's how it looked for the first time. Look, let's analyze her behavior today, after all the stress of the party and then we get stressed.”

I agree with my friend. I'm freaking out over something that shouldn't be very important. Maybe it's all the pressure with finishing the album. The release date is approaching and sure enough, Jim freaking out in my ear for the publicity trip we were supposed to be doing, but we're still going against it due to Marnie's accident.

I don't know how many times I have to tell him I'm not leaving LA yet. This delay wasn't hindering anything, so I don't know why he makes such a point.

“Go, get rid of that dead face and let's enjoy your party.” Ash slaps my shoulder.

We left the house, heading to Jack's house, where the party would be. I've been training my face the entire way, wanting it to be as realistic as possible, even though everyone already suspects that I know.

Even if I didn't know it, the moment I see the street full of cars, I realize that I would find out there. Irwin tells them we're coming and I notice the noise of the music fade away. Discreet.

We entered the house, finding everything quiet and tidy. But when we turn to the kitchen and garden, a lot of people scream in surprise. I take a step back, like I'm really shocked.

"I can't believe you did that." I look at Ash, wanting to see that I did well. But his expression ‘so so’ disappoints me.

“In the car it was better.” he says before walking away and letting people get closer.

I don't know how many people I hugged, but I know the only one I wanted to see was the last one to arrive. I hold my breath, seeing her in a black leather skirt and a transparent black blouse, highlighting her tattoo between her breasts.

I swallow hard, cracking a nervous smile as she approaches with a huge grin, almost jumping into my lap. Unlike yesterday, where I just got a congratulations message, M&Ms hug me, leaving a lingering kiss on my cheek.

“Happy Birthday!” the gleam in her eyes proves to me she's already a little high.

I resist the urge to steal a kiss from her lips, just kissing her cheek back but giving her waist a squeeze, pressing her against my body. She seems to notice my intent, drastically changing her breathing.

"I wanted to talk to you later. If possible.” I say against her ear.

“About?” her eyes sweep me for any clues.

“Surprise.” I reveal, seeing her roll her eyes in agreement.

I watch her walk away with the girls, but she doesn't fully break eye contact with me, looking at me from afar. I let out a breath, realizing it's going to be a long night and another long battle to resist her and the urge to take her to a dark corner.

In the kitchen, where most of the drinks are, I start my work, drinking the alcohol, enjoying the burning sensation that the liquid leaves in my throat. I get distracted with video game conversation and allow my mind to relax with lighter, more relaxed topics.

The party had been going on for a few hours. My head is already light, due to the high alcohol content my body retains. I know I'm laughing at some bullshit Brian is talking about, even though his words don't make any sense in my mind. Maybe I've already had too much to drink and it's better to stop for a while. I don't want to be sick at my own party.

The term vibrates in my mind and I start searching the crowd for the cotton candy hair, worried about her condition. The feeling pulls my head out of the air, sobering me up for a few minutes.

I find her dancing hand in hand with Noah, laughing at the older man's exaggerated steps. I stare at the scene, happy that she is enjoying herself. Unlike at the beginning of the week, Marnie is now upbeat and not acting. Maybe Irwin is right and she was just stressed about the birthday party.

I push my thoughts away, concentrating on yet another beer pong game. I've played more times than I could count and I'm starting to doubt the two arms Jack has won since my last drink.

“Problems.” Michael sings beside me, pointing to the door. Pam walked in smiling excitedly, holding hands with a guy who sure as hell didn't want to be there. It's not possible…

Sobriety hits me like a cannon. All the alcohol and smoke that was in my body is gone and I am able to think clearly for the first time since I arrived.

I massage my forehead, bringing my gaze to Marnie, who's already staring at Pam without a specific expression. I cross the room with incredible ease, reaching for her, hugging her waist, pulling her to me.

“We can talk now?” Marnie didn't even seem to hear me, still staring at Pam, who was greeting some people. "M&Ms?" I call closer to her ear, but no effect. “Hey!” I drop a kiss to her temple, squeezing her waist.

Her green eyes cross mine and I can palpate the insecurity in them. Marnie just nodded, letting me lead her out of the room. We went up to a room, being alone. I look at her face, still half lost, and I approach slowly, feeling that little box weigh tons in my pocket.

“What do you want to talk about?” she gives a slight smile, turning her full attention to me.

“First I wanted to apologize for Pam. I didn't know what she was going to come.” Marnie rolls her eyes, shrugging.

“It’s OK! No need to apologize. My head is so full I don't even care about her anymore.” she sits up in bed, crossing her legs.

“And I believe she won't even mind us today, after all, she came with someone” I sat beside her.

“Yeah! Poor guy.” I let out a laugh at her pity for the poor boy. “It was just that?”

I lose myself in her eyes for a few seconds, wondering if that's all. I draw her face in my mind once more, recording every feature I fell in love with. My lips tingle as I landed my eyes on her mouth, slightly reddened by the drink.

At another time, right now she and I would be locked in some bathroom or bedroom, succumbing to desire and the alcohol in our blood. My fingertips ache amidst the memories of all the times I have run across her skin, feeling it burn under my touch.

My mind starts to cloud and the flashes of the two of us become more and more vivid. I try to push those thoughts away, but they seem to sink into my mind with force. My body heats up with every scene my mind plays. I feel the blood running the wrong way and I don't know how to stop it.

"Luke?" I'm startled by your touch on my hand. Marnie was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Are you okay?” I watch her hand squeeze mine, like she always did when I was angry or upset.

And just with that touch, everything stops inside me. The fire is gone and now I'm seized by a gigantic pain and rage in my chest, a rage for her being ripped from me so abruptly. I stare at her fingers moving gently, transmitting a caress throughout my body.

"Luke?" now she was looking at me extremely worried.

“Sorry. I think the drink hit.” I open a smile, trying to calm her down. M&Ms don't seem to buy much, but she smiles smugly.

“I already told you you're drinking a lot. In a little while you'll be passed out and won't even enjoy your own birthday party.” my smile widens in the midst of her care. "Don't give me that smile." she pushes my face away. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

“No!” this time I answer faster. “Actually, I wanted to give you something.” I fish the little white box in my pocket, feeling my fingers as soft as jelly. What if she doesn't like it? What if she gets angry?

“You know it's your birthday, right? You're the one who should get presents, not give. Especially for me.” she looks at me angrily, not wanting to accept the box.

"Well, it's my birthday and I'll do what I want, in which case I give it to you." I place the object in her hands. “I wanted to wait until your birthday, but it's still far away and I can't take it.” I lift my shoulders quickly, making her laugh.

Taking advantage of the fact that she was involved with the present, slowly, I move closer to her body, contenting myself with the least contact we have. I notice Marnie hold her breath at the sight of the blue quartz necklace, just like the one she had.

With no more reaction than that, I start to convince myself that I've fucked up and she hated it. It wasn't the time yet, as much as everything was going well, it wasn't the time yet.

“I can't believe you did this.” her voice comes out in a breath in surprise. I let my mind race to our first Christmas, where she gave me my necklace and I gave that star to her.

“If you don't like it…” my voice trails off as I see her eyes watery and filled with joy. It was the right time.

I'm not afraid to advance towards her, covering your lips with mine in a short kiss. The cherry taste becomes my favorite for the rest of the night. Marnie wipes her tears as she calls herself pathetic for crying.

"I know we used it as a dating ring, but it doesn't have to be-”

"Could you put it on for me?" she interrupts me, not caring about my fear. With my hands still trembling and cold, I close the necklace around her neck, enjoying the scene of her smiling enchanted by that stone. “Thanks!”

This time it is she who steps forward, stealing a kiss. The mood changes drastically. The screams outside seem to die in my ears, leaving only silence. The music that used to burst had ceased to exist.

That little kiss breaks, but she doesn't pull away, keeping her forehead still glued to mine. I'm startled when her eyes return to mine, I can see her perfectly there, in front of me, in my arms. I recognize that glow, that look and what it wanted to convey.

It was her there. The reason I get up every morning. The reason that makes me want to be better and better. The person I always want to impress. My girl. My Marnie.

I bring my hand to the back of her neck, bringing our lips together once more. I feel goose bumps as our tongues touch and her hand cups my face, holding me there. If she knew the last thing I want is to run away…

I'm surprised I feel despair on her side. The urgency on her lips. The need for the touch of her hands, the way they ran through my hair, the back of my neck and chest.

Easily, I pull her onto my lap, moaning, feeling her body against mine after so long. The fire that had previously ceased inside me, runs again through my veins, making everything too cloudy. I can't reason whether this was right or not. We both drink too much. She still hasn't given me full openness to so much attitude, even though she's still here, kissing me.

I try for a few minutes to clear my mind, to be a little rational and not get carried away by emotion, but the sound her mouth makes when I touch her neck with my lips ruins whatever train of thought I was building.

I touch the exact spots that make her moan and scramble for more friction. I watch thirstily as her eyes roll back and her lip is bitten in an attempt to control the moans. Her nails scratch the back of my neck, releasing an electric current that migrates between my legs.

I gasp when I feel her rub against my groin, spreading a current throughout my body. I want to beg her to do it again, but it's not really necessary, she knows and she does. So excruciating, but so good. Again I am startled to find that glow that I knew so much. I wonder where this Marnie was all along.

I shove my hand inside her shirt, enjoying her burning skin. I stroke the spot below her bra with my thumb, wanting not to frighten her. I suck the skin under her ear, lapping it with my tongue. My body combusts as she stirs and presses her crotch harder against mine. I cup her breast with enjoyment, hearing her call my name the way I liked it best.

Her desperate hands run inside my jacket, wanting to throw it away. I was ready to help when a heavy knock on the door disrupts our moment.

"What the fuck is it?" anger rips up my throat, causing a very angry scream. So much time to interrupt.

"It's time to cut the cake." I hear Calum's voice and feel like throwing him from the second floor.

“Serious? Stick the cake in your-” two small hands cover my mouth, preventing me from continuing.

“We're on our way, Cal.” Marnie yells louder and breathless.

I watch your body soften, lost and, I fear, even regretful. She is no longer there. She avoids looking at me, perhaps out of shame.

“It was better this way.” her sweet voice comes closer to a whisper.

“Was?” I stare at her, not wanting to accept that I was the only one to feel it. I know I wasn't, because her expression tells me I'm right.

“Was! You know it was.” her tone is still sweet, but her gaze is hard. "I think we'd better go downstairs." she gets up carefully, getting out of bed. I throw my head against my hands, visibly frustrated.

"Go ahead, I need to get both heads in place." I throw my body against the mattress.

“Sorry, Luke.” I can't stand her feeling guilty when she's the biggest victim of all this.

"M&Ms?" I leap out of bed, grabbing her before disappearing through the door. “It's not your fault. I'm the one who lost control, I'm sorry. You didn't give me the opening to attack you like that and I let myself go…” her lips silence me.

“It wasn't anyone's fault, can we do that?” I nod, stealing the last kiss before I let her go. "I'll wait for you downstairs." she announce.

I turn around, heading back to bed, still feeling frustration coursing through my veins.

“Hey!” I turn to see her there, standing in the doorway. My chest races with yearning from the many times I've seen her do the same scene. My ears and heart ache wanting to hear those words that always came next. Those three words that were so beautiful in her mouth. “Thanks for this.” she smiles and leaves.

I stare at the wood, snapping back to reality. I'm such an idiot for thinking she was going to say she loves me. I hide my face, exhausted. I look across the bed, able to see the two of us there, so given to each other.

I replay the scene in my head, tasting her kiss on my lips. Feeling my body tingle, still wanting her touch. The pressure on my pants becomes bigger and more uncomfortable. I need to make this go away. I scramble my mind for many things to calm myself down, but I can't. I can still feel her hands running around the back of my neck and her groin against mine.

"Shit!" I give up, going to the bathroom and locking myself in there. I don't care if I'm late, or what they think. I won't be able to eliminate this with thoughts alone.

I lower my pants and underwear, releasing my already throbbing member. I run my hand over it, making my body vibrate in relief. I let my mind flood with all thoughts and memories with her, feeling my body inflate further.

I increase my speed, being able to feel her touch through my body. I punch the wall, feeling my stomach contract. I rest my forehead against the cool coating, letting out several sighs. Her eyes flash in my mind.

The many times I've seen her face twist in pure orgasm under my touch. That smirk and that vulgar glow she always lets off before pulling me aside. And I always did, like a puppy.

My breathing gets out of control as I reach my orgasm. A wave of relief and lightness overcomes me, along with a wave of guilt. It must have been the 15th time since it all happened.

I can't have her. I can't stand the idea of looking for someone else, even though we are not officially together, so I have to get by with baths and my bare hands, but as a result I feel like the dirtiest human being, as she doesn't even suspect.

I walk down the stairs, not attracting any attention. I find her sitting on the couch, on Leah's lap, laughing at some imitation Ashton was doing. I approach the group, who make no fuss about my delay.

I pick up the bottle of white wine on the coffee table, flipping half the contents. I feel her green eyes burn on me and I don't even have the courage to reciprocate by ignoring her.

“Is everything OK? Sorry if I messed something up.” Hood says next.

“It's OK! In fact, it was better, if you didn't show up, we would have done something stupid.” I say dry.

"Is that why this sour face?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I'm feeling awful for almost bringing her to this and not having the conscience to stop." I reveal a part of the guilt that burns in me.

“Luke, you are not complete strangers. And maybe she really wanted to go further, she just didn't know how. After all, at that moment she was supposed to be your f-”

"I know!" I cut it off, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence.

For my salvation, someone starts to sing happy birthday and the matter is closed. I open a smile disguising the shit my head was on. Michael puts a little purple hat on my head, blowing a plastic horn, very excited.

The scene makes me laugh, relieving the stress. I watch Leah and Kyleen swing colorful pom poms behind Marnie, who is holding a small cake with several candles.

I look deep into her eyes, noticing her happiness to be there and somehow mine too. After all, she's here, even if she doesn't remember much, she's still here. The accident could have been a lot worse and I could have lost her forever.

I push the damn thoughts away, blowing out the candles and driving everyone crazy. I'm surprised when Marnie leans in, stealing a kiss, not caring that she's in front of everyone. Her rosy cheeks manage to steal a smile far bigger than Michael did.

In the back of the room, I notice Pam with her arms crossed and sulking. I don't know if Marnie did it on purpose, intent on teasing, but something she did, and if Pam is pissed off, we're happy.

The clock was already showing around 5:00 in the morning. I've already fluctuated my alcohol level more times than I can count. While the boys filled me with rum, M&Ms filled me with water and food, afraid I would go into an alcoholic coma or whatever. Of course I took advantage of her concern and all the attention she was giving me.

At some point during the party, Michael took over the DJ's table and there we were, jumping up behind him, singing I Want It That Way at the top of our lungs, with the lost girls trying to do the choreography. That was definitely the best thing about the party, right after my moment with Marnie in the bedroom.

Right after his moment commanding the party's playlist, Clifford decided to climb on the roof to jump into the pool. Something that was already taking a while to happen. What he and no one expected was Marnie yelling at him, worried.

“It's comical, because if it weren't for the amnesia and the lack of alcohol, she would be the one on the roof.” Irwin comments lying beside me, watching the scene of her yelling at Michael, asking him to come down.

“And we called the fire department because she got stuck again.” I shake my head, wanting not to laugh at the memories. “Good times.” I'm toasting my friend, still watching her worriedly behind the older one.

Sitting in the garden, talking to some friends, I watch the girl laughing in a circle with Noah and Calum. She gets up, walking into the house, returning in a few minutes. I watch her come around, stopping behind me.

“Now the one who needs to talk is me.” she whispers in my ear. I don't think twice about taking your hand and heading out of the wheel chat.

I can see a large package in her hands and the idea of being my gift makes me anxious. A little farther away from the mess that remained, she hands me the black box with a gold bow on top. Before opening it, I take a look at her excited smile, letting out a laugh.

I find five rings and three necklaces arranged around the box. I can't hold back the smile, seeing what she's chosen. I know I might look like an idiot for some jewelry, but it's amazing jewelry she picked out.

“You liked?” she bites her lower lip, curious.

“I loved!” I hug your body, thanking her. I know she has no intentions other than to give me a birthday present, but of course I will wear these rings and necklaces with more affection than usual. “Thanks.” I mean, still ecstatic.

Hand in hand, we approached the crowd again, bumping into Kiki, Sophie and Michael.

“We were thinking about going to Michael's house. The party is already boring and I'm hungry.” Kiki comments. I look a little offended at her, after all, that was my birthday party. “Oh! Nothing personal.” she laughs, slapping me on the shoulder.

“What do you think?” I ask the M&Ms, who shrug their shoulders. "Have you talked to the rest?"

“Leah was going to call Noah and Ash, we were going to rescue Calum.”

“OK! We'll get our stuff and meet you at the door.” Marnie agrees and so we disperse.

Still holding hands, we walked back upstairs, looking for her bag. In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of vodka, a tequila, and a whiskey, trying to put everything in my bag, but it doesn't quite work.

“We should take advantage of the gathering and have your liver funeral.” I turn to Marnie who glares at me, seeing three bottles in my arm and me struggling to open one of beer.

Easily, we made our way to the front door, finding Kiki and Sophie. Gradually, everyone arrived and so we left the party, without saying goodbye to anyone.

“Uh, tequila?” Hood comes towards me, hugging the bottle.

Michael's house was the closest and, having drunk too much, we thought we'd better walk.

On the way, we stopped at a bakery, buying a bunch of things to eat. The day was already showing signs of life when we arrived at Mike's house. At the dinner table, we spread out the stolen drinks and food, starting our round table, as well as picking up several board games that Michael kept.

“I wanted to propose a toast to Mr. Luke Hemmings.” Noah draws the toast, making everyone raise their glasses and bottles. “One of the few people worth meeting in this hellish city where you can't trust anyone. The other people are unfortunately not present…”

A shower of paper balls and food flies towards the 20 minutes older twin. I'm surprised when I watch Marnie leave my arms, standing up.

“I also wanted to give a speech.”

“You didn't have to, babe.” I say, shaking her hand that still had our fingers intertwined.

“It's not about you.” she sticks out her tongue, causing everyone to scream.

“Ouch!” I put my hand to my chest, accepting the blow and still feeling my heart race.

“Shut up.” she screams, laughing. “Well, I wanted to make this toast in thanks to all of you. I know it's been three years of friendship, but for me it's only been a month and even with all the confusion and breakup.” her fingers squeeze mine and I move them, giving them a light caress. “You still took me in and took great care of me. I am eternally grateful for that. Leah doesn't even start crying, I need to get this over with and if I cry it's going to go wrong.” the mood breaks a little with the laughter. “Bottom line, I just want to say that whatever the future holds, I like you all a lot and that this isn't just a bunch of crazy friendship the universe threw at me, it's the family I've been looking for. As Noah said, you're the few people worth living in this hell of a city and I love you all so much. Cheers!”

Everyone raises their glasses once more, toasting her speech. I cross my gaze with Leah, who has also noticed something odd. She still hadn't commented on Monday's episode and I still had it hanging around in my mind.

It was very visible that something was troubling her. Her eyes wandering lost, her disappearance since Monday until today, claiming to be super busy and out of time. Everyone was sensing that something was wrong, but she wouldn't let go or comment on it.

“Especially you.” I focus my attention on her, who settles back into my arms. “Regardless of our future, I like you very much.” she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine. “Please never forget that. Promise?”

I get lost in her eyes, noticing a hint of fear and pain in them. It's horrible to see her like this and not know what to do. For nothing in this world I want her to feel unprotected or alone, she said herself that we are a family, so she wouldn't have to face anything alone.

“Only if you promise me you'll tell me what's going on.” I play hard, not caring if this becomes an issue between us, or if it pushes her away a little.

“Luke…” my name comes out in a painful sigh.

"Marnie." I say her name harshly, wanting her to understand that I won't change my mind.

“I'll tell. Just not today. Today is your day and that's what matters to me. So please let's enjoy?” she begs. As always, I surrender, nodding. I drop a kiss to her forehead, before pulling her to my chest again.

Hastings still looks at me suspiciously and unfortunately I only have reason to agree with her. Something was up with Marnie and she didn't want to tell us.

A minute of silence, our baby is turning 25 today and I am not knowing how to handle it.

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singeramg · 4 years

Text

Ruin Me

Quick little reader insert imagine based off this post. Based off a non-ask...

*Update: Now a full length story! Check out Masterlist for my chapters?*

Pairing: CEO! Henry Cavill x Female! Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Power imbalance, dom! Henry, sub! reader, fingering, dirty talk...

Song choice: Funny How Time Flies- Meshell Ndegeocello

PART 2 HERE

“ Y/N can you bring me a cup of coffee...please.”

His voice wasn’t raised but his tone told you all you needed to know.

He was not happy. Not happy at all.

He had called you from the phone in his office, not even bothering to call through the door or better yet come to the door himself which he usually did when he needed something from you and was in a good mood. You don’t dwell on it much and you get to your feet, and hustle over to break room to make a fresh pot of coffee.

It doesn’t take long; you wait the ten minutes to brew, taking note that your coworkers are packing up for the night. You look at the clock and realize you better do the same.

Although you have nowhere special to be the last thing you wanted to do on a Friday night was spend more time at the office. You didn’t complain much, the job wasn’t had for you. You hadn’t been with the company long but you were sure you liked it thus far.

You were Executive Assistant to the CEO of Cavill Industries. a company he started with his brothers years ago and had grown to be a world wide force. Henry Cavill may not have been the eldest brother but he certainly was the most determined and invested of the 5 and more so than any man you had met. This was why they made him the CEO.

You also thought that had something to do with the fact that he honestly was the best looking brother out of all of them.

The face of the company.

He had to stand out in a crowd, oh and Henry Cavill certainly did.

You could admit to no one but yourself that you had found him extremely attractive during your third and final interview where you finally got to meet him. If he wasn’t your boss, he would be exactly the type of guy you went for in terms of looks. Tall, dark curly hair, a jawline that could cut glass, dazzling smile and sharp blue eyes that seemed to pinpoint everything

Including any mistakes you made.

He had made adjusting to this new job hard for you.

Pointing out every mistake, forcing you to redo whole reports that people who got paid a lot more than you should have been doing

But nooooo

He ‘trusted ‘ a.k.a could hover over you while you fixed it.’ causing more late nights and overtime than you cared to think about.

Forget a social life, everything had to be about him.

You had to be everything.

In your job interview nobody had mentioned you would be basically in charge of his life.

Dry Cleaning, arranging his groceries to be delivered, you were even his dog walker on the days he brought his cute Akita Kal-El to the office.

Yea that was totally fun in the heels he forced you into everyday.

You had tried wearing respectable flats after your first week with sore feet and he vetoed that almost immediately.

Saying it wasn’t “seemly“ and that you were the assistant to the CEO and you should dress like it. Needless to say half of the time you wanted to slap him. The other time you were ridiculously turned on. I mean despite being an ass sometimes he played right into your masochistic streak. The way he spoke to you, wasn’t nasty but it had a very direct way that left no room for arguing or confusion. Just like with the heels. You normally would have argued your point, maybe even seen if he would come to some sort of compromise but you didn’t with him. You just kept the flats in your car and a pair under your desk for when you were sitting at your desk and for the days he was out of office.

That sort of sneaky was not like you at all. You just preferred to pull off the band-aid so to speak, but Mr. Cavill was not for any of that.

All you said to him when the response he wanted was obvious was a yes sir or no sir.

You made his coffee just as he liked two cubes of sugar, and a splash of cream. He always would like three extra cubes of sugar on the side, adding the extras depending on how his day had been going. The more sugar added the better his day. You walk as smooth as you can to his office, the large dark door. You don’t bother to knock, sliding open the door to his office, begging your heels not to catch on the floor. You sit his coffee on the desk, to his right, and far enough from his hand that he doesn’t accidentally knock it over.

You smooth out your black mid length dress, and try not to fidget with your red belt that gives a retro theme to the look, and you even had a red purse and red blazer to wear with it (which you had ditched mid-morning). You slip back out the door when he doesn’t look at you. You pick up the tablet you use to keep track of everything on a mobile basis. You pull up his calendar and head back into the large office.

The office itself had never intimidated you despite the large solid oak desk in the middle of the room. It felt open because of the floor to ceiling windows that had automatic curtains that came down on command. You actually loved his office despite the fact that you didn't spend a lot of time in it. You re-enter his office, and stand in front of the desk looking down at the calendar.

“Okay before the day ends I would like to go over your schedule for the weekend.”

He finally looked up at you, his blue eyes giving direct contact, that you couldn’t hold and went back to the glowing tablet, where the sun was starting to set outside.

“You have a dinner meeting tonight which starts at 6:30pm; a 30 minute commute time which means you need to be out of here in the next 45 minutes, if you would like to arrive with your 15 minute grace period as normal.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, then takes off the reading glasses off his face and tosses them on the desk.

“Continue.”

“ Not too many things on the agenda for this weekend except for family brunch on Sunday. Your mother requests you arrive on time this time.”

You regulate a smirk to the side of your mouth.

“I’ve arranged for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to your house by 9am for you to take over there to her.”

“I don’t suppose I have any missed messages from today?”

You look at him confused.

“Ummm....no. Were you expecting a call?”

He sighs and rubs the temples of his head, clearly upset something.

“No...yes...don’t worry about it. You’ve already arranged for a car for me?”

Yep, he was upset and he was not about to share it with you. You didn’t press him, only prayed it didn’t result in a hell of a clean-up for you later. You had been the bad guy with no less than 4 woman, all of them glaring and spiting nasty vitriol at you when you wouldn’t give them access to Henry. You had seen them all come and go.

“Yes.”

He looks you over, getting to his feet, walking over to the door you knew to be an en-suite bathroom and keeping his extra changes of clothes.

“ Do you have any plans for tonight?”

He asks you suddenly and puts you on the spot. You don’t even have a lie to cover up how pitiful your life was, but you had to try. He didn’t need to know you don’t have anything planned tonight but a glass of wine and catching up on your TV shows you missed for all the overtime you’ve been working.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

He asks almost immediately as if knowing you were lying. You had to try and get out of some crazy overtime he was known for. You didn’t want another late night in the office.

“Ummm...”

As noted earlier you didn’t think well on the spot. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate liars Y/N. Anyhow if you are done lying to me, the meeting for tonight requires a...feminine touch.”

“Feminine touch?”

You echo. He goes into the closet and you can hear him changing. You try not to think about him behind the wall.

“Yes. The people I am meeting with require a bit of finesse. The negotiations always go better when we bring our women to the meetings.”

“Soo... would you like me to call someone for you. I can have a dress sent over in their size to smooth the deal over.”

He laughs at you.

“No. Grab your things and call the car service to get here in 10 minutes.”

“ What stop the press? Are you putting me out of the office before you for once?”

You quip at him. He comes from around the corner his attire changed into a black button down shirt, left with the top few unbuttoned. He adjusts the sleeves and looks up with you.

“No you are going with me Y/N and we must hurry, you are going to require another dress.”

“But...”

“No buts. I need you and you are wasting time.”

He picks up a black suit jacket, his cologne hitting you with an umpf he walks by you to get to the car...

*********

The dinner had gone great from what you could tell. You saw a whole other side of Henry. One that was only observed under the rarest of occasions.

At least for you.

Overall you weren’t asked for much, Henry had bought you another black dress only this one was a bit more leggy than you were used to around such important people. Its spaghetti strapped and sweetheart neckline, offering way more cleavage than you would ever consider wearing around him, but Henry had literally come in with you, pulling it from the rack along with a few other choices and this was the tamest all the options he left you. You damn near had a panic attack in the dressing room. The women in the boutique had fixed your hair and makeup in the little amount of time you had, once again at Henry’s behest. You hadn’t be so pulled together since... well you couldn’t remember....

Henry had even been nice to you all evening, but you knew it was all an act, even if your body did respond to the compliments and lingering looks, the smile he would shoot you, he had even let his hands skim across your lower back.

You did your best not to read into anything. Had even gone along with the little game he was playing, being over sweet, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, your hands lingering on his arms. Enough to suggest without being outwardly desperate and trashy. You were ever the smiling damsel to his associates, laughing at the jokes, ignoring the sexist comments about your dress or the ‘arm candy’ they referred to you as, despite it pissing you off.

You stayed to yourself most for the ride back to the office, and he stays quiet as well. Only then once the car parks do you realize in your haste earlier you left your keys upstairs. He insists he needs to come up as well to grab some files from his desk. You offer to bring them back down but he insists. You scurry to your desk, not finding them in the drawer where you usually kept your purse.

You don’t see them. You panic and look for them intensely.

Oh you hoped you didn’t leave them at the boutique where you changed dresses.

“Y/N. Could you come in here please? I would like to discuss something with you before you leave.”

He calls to you, the voice losing the soft tone he had with you all night, this only serves to make your blood run cold. Have you done something wrong? Said the wrong thing to the wrong person and cost him millions of dollars? You needed your job, and hoped pretty badly that this wasn’t the end of it.

You honestly couldn’t tell if you missed it or not. You disregard the thoughts you are having and push them back in your mind, offering to sort them out later. Preferably with alcohol nearby. You look into his office and see that he is standing behind his desk. Once you come in, thinking he needed something from you.

“Close the door.”

You close the door behind you, the lights on a dim shade, enough for you to see but not enough to over power your eyes.

“Did you need anything from me, because it’s late and I should be heading home...”

He surprises you by cutting you off in a tone that was even softer than any other time he had used with you before.

“I just wanted to say thank you for accompanying me tonight y/n.”

“You are Welcome. I’m just going to go...”

You smile and turn to leave but his voice stops you with a sharp tone that makes you freeze.

“Did I say you could leave?”

You feel your face get hot and you turn back around to face him. The lighting only showcasing the angles of his face, making you ever more nervous.

“No but Sir it's 12am...”

“I know what time it is. You are so stubborn all the time. Can’t even take a simple compliment.”

“I thought you were done.”

You shrug, and immediately regret being so nonchalant with him., his gaze intense.

“I wasn’t. Now before you interrupted me, I was saying thank you not only because you came with me but for playing your role so effortlessly. I didn’t expect you to be so ...reciprocating to me.”

“I figured that would be best. How would it appear if you showed up with a staff member we rather than a significant other like the other at the table.”

“Well your quick and astute observation saved me tonight.”

“All in a day's work. Now if I can just get out of these heels tonight and maybe into a pedicure tomorrow I will have made this all worth while.”

He surprises you by coming from behind the desk where he had been standing, coming to stand in front of you.

And you cursed yourself because it was back again.

The arousal you fought with every lingering look and touch he gave you tonight. How honeyed his words were with you, combined with the animalistic power you knew was just boiling under the surface.

“I have had many secretaries before and none of them take your position as seriously as you do. You put a lot of effort into your job and does not go unnoticed.”

Having him so close was unnerving. Especially when you had his direct attention. You can’t hold eye contact and look down at the floor. Henry touches your chin, his fingers tilt your chin up and you lock eyes. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the space of brown in his left eye, but the first time you were close enough to appreciate it.

You feel your pulse quickening.

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.”

He blinks slowly and you don’t breathe at all as his lips move toward your own. He is seconds away from kissing you, tension heavy in the room.

“Wait....Henry...I just...I Can’t go there.”

You say it out loud and it’s like someone let the air out of your balloon. He lets your face go and looks at you confused, for the first time you see just Henry. Not your boss, not the CEO who always had to be ‘on’ and in charge, you just saw Henry. His face was open and unguarded.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s just you are my boss...”

Henry moves suddenly, and yet simultaneously time slows as he crashes his lips onto yours. The odd duality of soft, yet firm, calming yet passionate overtakes your mind and short circuits you. His hands are holding the side of your face on one side and behind your neck. His kiss steals what little breath you had away. You almost forget why this would have been such a bad idea but he pulls away.

“Darling, Didn’t anyone tell you? The boss makes the rules...”

He resumes kissing you and you offer little in the way of resistance as he picks you up, in fact you lock your legs around his waist and he deposits you on top of his desk. Everything you had been feeling for him was bubbling up in that moment. You were caught in being wanted to be treated like silk and wanting to toss him down and take exactly what you wanted in no uncertain terms of hatefucking him for all the jackass behavior he had exhibited since you started 6 months ago.

You slide his jacket off his broad shoulders, tossing it to the room, igniting the soft thud it makes when the expensive thing lands in a heap on the floor. He pulls your hips toward the edge of the desk and his large hands are hot as they slide up your skirt over trembling thighs and his lips move to your neck. He finds the sensitive spots there quicker than anyone ever had while also moving his fingers to play with your clit through the lining of the black lace panties you were wearing.

Your breath hitches in your throat and Henry grins against your lips, letting you take a second before he kisses you again. His fingers dance around before latching to the hemline and yanking them with enough force that they are torn from your body. Your hips sting from the pull, but you are more than turned on. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and don’t look at the skin revealed, but he doesn’t let you take it off him and instead pushes one of his fingers inside of you, you lewdly moan, and grasp his biceps quickly, having been taken off guard. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet, because you were plenty wet, your now ruined panties had been testament to that, but you had expected more of a playful teasing, but as one of your last coherent thoughts, you knew this man never wasted time.

He was a do-er...

And right now he was doing you. The amount of focus and precision he took in his work, pouring over contracts, logs, inventory and the like, he was putting in on you. As his finger moves in and out he is staring at you with such intensity you think you might explode.

“You are dripping baby girl. Melting right into the palm of my hand to be exact.”

He removes the finger that had been inside of you, raising it to his lips, tasting you from it, and you shudder. He kisses you again, you closing your eyes, then you hear in his deep tone like melted chocolate, luxurious to your ears,

“Open your eyes and suck them.”

He held two of his fingers and you opened your mouth. He wanted to hold your gaze.

“Get them nice and wet for me.”

You suck on them, imaging the girth that had been teasing you for months in his sacks, was what was actually in your mouth. You had wanted so badly to taste him and feel him you reach down, palming his obvious erection and you hear him growl. It was your turn to smirk, and as soon as he felt that smirk, he pulled his two fingers from your mouth and thrusts them into you.

You whimper and the one hand you left on his bicep clenched in, digging into his skin. His fingers glide in and out almost painfully slow. You need faster.You try to move your hips to make him move but he chuckles.

“That won’t work y/n. We do this at my pace. Be still or I will stop.”

He didn’t go any faster, his movements deliberately slow. You could tell he was getting a kick out this, and you whine again.

“Beg kitten.”

He whispers in your ear, his thumb teasing your clit again.

“Please.”

He moves a little faster.

“Come on love. You can do better than that.” Teasing.

“Please Henry...”

He slaps your thigh with a sharp tap and it sends the zing of arousal.

“That's not what you call me. Try again.”

While your brain is shorting out, you fumble on what he wants from you.

“I..i don’t know sir...”

He rewards you by speeding up more. Your torso drops backwards, your head follows as you rest back on your elbows, and legs move wider, making your dress bunch up around your hips.

“There you go. There’s what I was looking for. Now beg me to make you come.”

You worry your bottom lip, ignoring how your chest heaves, pulling against the black fabric of the dress.

“Fuck! Please sir please let me cum.”

“That’s more like it. Begging me like the dirty little slut you are.”

He speeds up, his fingers curling inside, tapping that spongy space that made your eyes cross and your vision blur. You didn’t think you would like being called a ‘little slut’ but it was more of a turn on than you had ever thought it would be.

“Sir let me cum please let me cum.”

His dexterous fingers speed up, his thumb rubbing your clit and you were glad no one else was in the office as your moans echo throughout the room.

“You want to be my good girl hmmm?”

You nod furiously, the edge of your orgasm coming up rapidly, as your walls begin their tell-tell sign of fluttering.

“Good girls wait until they have permission. You hold it.”

It was damn near impossible, but you try to focus on anything but how good his fingers feel. He pulls your body back up from the desk with his hand gripping behind your neck. His lips crash on your again, he lingers around your lips you breathe heavily against his lips.

“I’ll be your good girl!”

You yell.

“Good. Cum then come for me.”

It’s like the world goes silent and all you can focus on is his fingers as your orgasm pulls you under. It’s an out of body experience where you could hear your moans and groans of Henry’s name, where you were literally shaking, but you could bring yourself down. Destroyed, Henry is whispering praises in your ear. Calling you his and how good you were for him. It doesn’t take long to come back down, but when you do you feel wrung out, and as Henry pulls away, you notice the sheen of fine layered sweat on his forehead. You feel self conscious as he stares down at you, and without the haze of lust in your eyes it settles in you that your boss just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life and hadn’t even taken off his pants.

Pants that were currently begging you to be taken off. He begins to chuckle and you realize you’ve been staring at his cock outline, and he was laughing at you. He unbuttons his pants, and finally takes off his shirt the rest of the way, finally revealing the god sculpted body that he clearly worked for.

The look on his face says he is going to ruin you and you are going to like it.

Only then, as he begins to work on the zipper to your dress, do you look to your left on the desk and see your keys sitting there...

***************

A/n: Hope that was what you were looking for @thiccgeralt Hope this met your expectations and thank you!

I am thinking of coming back to this, but honestly I am waiting until @laketaj24 finishes her CEO! fic The Rules, because its so freaking wonderful and I don’t want to ruin anything by stealing any thunder with a CEO fic OR Ficlet I would plan on doing. BTW if you haven’t read The Rules then please do yourself a favor a go over to her page and check out all of her work. You will not regret a second of it....

However I am tossing this out to see if there would be any interest in a continuation of this fic. Let me know and as always thank you for reading, re-blogging, and liking!

Henry Cavill Taglist: (OPEN! Let me know if this is something you want on!

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader

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