#like Yeah i guess in the end i press a button and the picture is taken and the camera did the work

[quaranmine]

seeing people use photography as a defense in favor of ai art (photography is easy/photography didn't replace drawn art/they're both just machines humans put input into to create things) makes me sort of violent as an amateur photographer

i am not hiking out to places, literally laying on the ground to get angles, memorizing aperature and iso and shutter speed and white balance information to compensate for constantly changing real-world conditions, paying attention to specific compositions, etc just for u to say it's the same as feeding some prompts into a computer. respect the technical expertise that goes into it or die by my sword

[sirenologyyy]

LOST MY HEART!

street racer!carlos sainz x fem leclerc!reader

✴ summary: where you somehow found yourself in a skimpy maroon cocktail dress watching cars race eachother in the heart of the city and where carlos sainz found himself wondering what on earth had been keeping you from him all these years?

✴ warnings: swearing, google translated french, asshole-ish carlos kinda, mentions of murder, injuries, death, & suicide, blood, police chases.

✴ author's note: so uhh I guess this is me on my first attempt at entering the f1 side of tumblr LMAO. If you see any spelling or grammatical errors, no you didn't. Was this inspired by 2 Fast 2 Furious? Yeah.

The foul stench of decade old nail polish is like a good sock to the face. You had been sitting on the windowsill as the balmy summer air wafts in and out of your quaint little studio apartment, your tailbone nestled awkwardly against the ridges of the windowsill making you shift positions every 10 seconds instead of simply choosing to continue your business on your bed where your mattress and pillows were far more forgiving than the metal windowsill. You carefully and meticulously coat each of your bare fingernails with wine red nail polish as some 70s reality show continues to play in your TV in the background; the dialogue blurring with the faint buzzing of the electric fan rotating on its axis, the only reason why you weren't melting at this very moment.

You were on the last finger, carefully spreading the polish around so as not to get it to stick on one of your cuticles until your phone started to ring, you see your phone light up in the distance and you scramble to get to it. It had been Alexandra calling, you recognise the picture of her face before you even see the name.

You couldn't help but glance up at the upper left most corner of your phone and your eyes widen a centimeter as you slide the button to accept her call. "Where are you? Are you okay?" You demand and when she didn't answer in all but the 3 seconds you gave her you leapt off the windowsill and began scurrying around your apartment, beginning to gather your things to leave the house.

Then, you hear her tinkly laugh on the other end of the call. "Would you calm down? Everything's alright here chérie, no one has died."

You halt to a stop in the middle of your apartment. "Are you aware what time it is Alex?"

"Yes, I am." She replies, hearing the giant grin through her voice along with her velveteen monegasque accent that tickled anybody's brain.

You look at your wallclock, 2:45. "So why on Earth are you still awake?"

Before she could even respond, the obnoxious sounds of cars revving their engines answered for her. You roll your eyes as you pressed the video feature waiting for her to finally accept, and when she did you were greeted by your friend grinning cheekily at you along with throngs of people whooping and cheering behind three sports cars lined up and ready to race. "Come on," Alex says, giggling blithely at your disdainful expression. "You promised to come today!"

You visibly stiff. Oh yeah, you did. A week or so ago when you made her try Filipino street food for the first time, you hastily agreed to come to one of the street races so she would try kwek-kwek dipped in spicy vinegar, you've completely forgotten about it.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?-" Alex mused, voicing your conscience.

Your brows thread. "-Of course not!" You're quick to defend as she laughs at you once more and she gives you this sort of endearing look that made you feel bad. "Fine, what if I have?" You say, giving up. You walk back to the windowsill in hopes to finish off your nails.

"Make it up to me, come to the race today. I'll even pick you up!" Says Alex.

You guffaw as you twist the nailpolish bottle closed. "That's not likely."

"I'm serious!" Alex persists as she moves away from the boisterous crowd, hearing their voices fade away more and more by the second. She sits down somewhere and places the camera in front of her face, prompting you to do the same. "Come on, Y/N/N, come today! Support Charles! You know how much it would mean to him if you came and cheered him on! You haven't been to one of his races since Jules."

Your jaw tightens, your chest begins to feel immensely heavy, and your stomach churns. Not in that particular order. "I didn't have it in me."

Alex sighs. "I'm not forcing you to come, I'm just... heavily encouraging you."

"I know, I know" you reply somewhat distantly, though barely enough for Alexandra to notice; and as she speaks to somebody else about a lychee martini presumably ordering one from the 24 hour bar beside the track, you begin to weigh your options. It would just be one race, and anyway Suzuka was 9 years ago, it wouldn't kill you if you came today.

It wasn't like you had a sleeping schedule to maintain.

"You're thinking so hard you look like you're gunna bust a vein." Alex quipped, ultimately pulling you out of your reverie and causing you to blink repeatedly.

"I'm warming up to it." You confessed, jerking your right shoulder upwards. Suddenly, a notification pops up saying Charles was calling you and your eyes widened. "Why the fuck is he calling?"

"Who is?" Alex wonders.

"I'll be right back Alex, hold on." You replied, distracted.

"30 minutes." She says, pointing at you.

You roll your eyes as you laugh through your nose. "No promises."

She blows you a kiss, you do the same before you ended the call and accepted Charles'.

It automatically sends the both of you into video and you see Charles inside a car, your mood sours even more than it already has. "Chou, come today." You hear him say with a stern look in his eyes while the edges of his mouth curl up into a grin you recognise all too well.

You scowled at him. "Alex called me, she tried winning me over too. She's a great negotiator."

He lights up at the prospect of you finally coming to one of his street races. "So you're coming?"

"If I do will you finally propose?"

"That's not fair!" He exclaimed, laughing at you.

"You whore! The amount of testosterone I had to live with in my 23 years of existence was appalling! Enzo's settled down, Arthur is seeing that girl he met in Milos, what about you?" You demand, your older brother watches you berate him with a fond smile on his face, wondering just how fast time flies.

"I'm waiting for the right moment, you can't blame me." He replies simply making you scoff.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Language."

"Is Arthur there?"

He adjusts the grip on his phone. "No, that's why I want you to come."

"But you have Alex, isn't she enough?" You fought.

Charles sighed. "She's just my girlfriend Y/N not my sister, at the end of the day it's still drastically different."

You raise a quizzical brow. "Just your girlfriend? Wait til she hears this-"

"Come on chou, one race." Charles pressed, and you can feel yourself losing restraint as each second evades you. 9 years of hearing about Charles' accomplishments and failures instead of being able to witness them firsthand, tonight was the night where the incessant begging of Charles, Alex, and even your twin brother Arthur on the rare occasion would finally change all that. "juste une course." Just one race.

"One race." You found yourself saying, Charles smiles.

"I'll see you in an hour." You shook your head at him giving him a shrewd little smile. "You stink."

"Not as much as you, Chou." He replies swiftly. You flip him off, hearing the last remnants of his laugh reach your end before you grunt a quick 'bye' and finally end the call. By the time Alex arrives in your apartment, (also known as her breaking and entering because you forgot to tell her you've changed locks and hadn't given her a new key yet.) You've gotten yourself dolled up in a new maroon cocktail dress you found while thrifting a few weeks back, wearing it for the second time around. Alex did your makeup since she insisted she wanted to try a new eyeshadow hack she saw off of TikTok and you styled your hair.

As you two are about to leave, she stops you from putting on your black ballet flats and pulls you back to the vanity.

"One last thing." She says to you before she lines your lips with a crimson lip liner and then filling it in with a red lipstick you had lying around. She turns you around fixing your gold heart necklace so that the clasp would be hidden in the back. You turn back around to face yourself in the mirror, checking yourself out. "Now you're ready." Alex grinned. "That way you're less inclined to smoke because I spent a good 10 minutes on your lips!"

You snort as you throw on your deep brown leather jacket. "Let's see about that."

Within an hour the both of you are out the door, you had the radio on full blast with the pair of you screaming the lyrics to Love by Keyshia Cole. The roof of Alex's silver convertible had been down, allowing the crisp dusk air to billow through your tresses as you sped through the otherwise empty streets save for the few cars that hung back and watched as you two zoomed past them, eventually stopping at the closed off avenue where the race was located. It took Alexandra 20 minutes to parallel park (with you cheerfully taking a video of your best friend visibly struggling and in dire need of help to send to your brother.)

Once she has surmounted such a great feat you two were off to find your brother who, funnily enough, chanced upon you first.

Charles takes off his amber tinted sunglasses, donning his signature baggy jeans that flopped as he waltzed towards the pair of you. "do my eyes deceive me or is my baby sister finally at a race???"

You smirk as you entrap him in a fleeting hug. "No this is Papa, I've come to take you with me."

Charles harshly pokes your side making you recoil. "Agh Putain! " You hissed, clutching your left rib as you scowl at your older brother.

"I see you haven't outgrown your foul-mouthed tendencies." Charles mused, boxing his arms in front of his chest.

You raised a quizzical brow as Alexandra giggled loudly beside you. "You do know who I grew up with, right?"

"It's great to have you here, Chou." Charles beamed fondly at you, causing the ends of your lips to curl upwards into a smile, a sudden wave of melancholy overcoming you. "Can't believe it's been this long since you've watched me race."

"Me too." You replied, returning his smile. "I'm excited to see if you still like to shred the side of your car against the sides of the track like when you were 14."

The tip of Charles' ears turn crimson at the sound of Alex's tinkly giggles. "You're never letting me live that down are you?" You giggle loudly as you shook your head at him.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, look, I'm in the lineup for the next race. If they'd known I left my car minutes before I'm set to compete I'm toast."

You rolled your eyes. "Alors dépêches toi, I'll see you later." Hurry up then.

He began to retreat towards the starting line. "Watch me win that fat stack of cash, and once I do I'll take you out for ice cream." He assured you oh so confidently in the true Leclerc fashion, pointing at your face.

"You better, or I'm cracking your head open on the asphalt like an egg." You call after him, watching as he danced his way through the crowd. "We'll see about that." You caught wind of him saying causing you and Alex to burst out into a fit of giggles, which were promptly drowned out by the arrival of two cars that had presumably been racing since before you got here. The crowd's thunderous cheering and whistling made you wince as Alex started whooping along with glee.

The drivers each exit their cars slamming their doors rather harshly. You stood silently as you watch one of them shove the other one in the chest causing him to stumble backwards and collide with his car, a Honda S2000. The cheers drastically begin to fall in a decrescendo when the crowd notices they start to get into a heated argument, from your vantage point one of the men with features so sharp it could cut diamonds seemed like he was berating his opponent that looked defensive, with his eyebrows furrowed as they exchanged sides.

One of your brother's friends, Pierre, who helped organise street races like these quickly intervened and told them to walk it off, dismissing the crowd who had just began to cheer for a fight telling them that if they were here for one they should take their business elsewhere.

"Yeesh," Alex makes a face as your eyes trail after one of the men. "There he goes again, all dark and broody."

"You know him or something?" You wonder, turning to Alex.

Alex looks at you. "He and Charles are leading in wins, his name's Carlos." She tells you, you turn your head to the direction he previously was in to find that he was gone.

Your eyebrows thread. "Sounds like you can't trust him with your drink."

Alex snorts. "With your ex-girlfriends either, once he learns you and your girlfriend have broken up he swoops right in and sleeps with her."

"That sounds a little dramatic." You say, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Alex gives you a pointed look as she places her hands atop your shoulders. "Chérie, trust me. I know you, you do not wanna get mixed up with that guy."

Your eyes widen, as you look at her almost scandalised. "What are you talking about???"

"I'm just saying!" She laughed, shrugging. "Just- be careful."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at your friend and instead you give her a comforting smile. "Fine, I'll steer clear of him. I promise." You assure her.

As the minutes ticked on and your brother, who was seated in his custom Ferrari 360 modena had sped off into the distance with his opponents, you had covertly slipped away whilst Alex had began mingling with the other racers' girlfriends (she was too scared to leave you alone but you insisted you'd be fine.) to light one up.

Walking off to a secluded part of the track, you take out your cigarettes and lighter from the pocket within your jacket. After a series of attempts of igniting your lighter and to no avail, you grew irritated.

"Allez... allez allume. Come on you stupid little thing." You mutter, obstructed by the cigarette trapped in between your lips. Come on... come on light up.

"No use in forcing it if its that stubborn." Your eyes traverse from your lighter and towards the voice, a man's voice. Your heart so traitorously skipped a beat as you laid your eyes on him, approaching you as he takes his cigarette away from his plump lips. "Have mine." He tells you.

Clad in a shiny leather jacket, a white shirt, and deep blue jeans, he takes out his lighter from his front pocket and ignites it before your very eyes. The blistering amber flame danced as the wind dared to put it out which otherwise gave life to his eyes. In which you thought were dark fathomless pits of naught were apparently balmy and tantalising, doe-like and pleasant. "Do you mind if I join you?" He wonders.

"No not at all." You answered, lips still pinching that cigarette together. He laughed a little, making you grin out of awkwardness.

This was the same man you were warned to avoid and yet pleasant was the word that came to mind when you thought of his eyes that soon meet yours, and you didn't quite find it in yourself to pull away.

Only when you heard the familiar sizzle of your cigarette coming to life was when you take a hit and then promptly pulled it away from your lips.

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, a foul, gaseous barrier that stood in between the two of you. "Honestly I could've done it myself." You refuted, avoiding his eyes. You didn't want to fall victim to the ironclad grip of his warm gaze like you so foolishly allowed yourself to succumb to before.

He chuckles in a low baritone. "What can I say? My mother raised a gentleman." He replies in his sultry Spanish accent that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Oh pull yourself together, he's just a man.

You hummed at him, clearly amused. "A gentleman sure, but not a very good sportsman."

He grinned at you. "I take it you saw that little spat earlier, no?"

Your finally look at him once more. "Me? Everybody did. You looked like you were about to choke him until his eyeballs pop outta their sockets."

He chuckles at that, a sound that made your smile widen, even if it was just a tad. "He was being too aggressive during the lap, drove right into me from behind. Like uhh, the bumper cars." He recalls, snapping his fingers gleefully. "Almost had me flying."

"You still won though." You postulate, paying close attention to his reaction. Through the darkness you saw a light blush spread across his sun-kissed cheeks as he brought his cigarette towards his lips. "Why, are you glad I did?"

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head, the ends of your lips curlong upwards a tad to form some semblance of a smile before you stopped it from growing wider. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

This gets a chuckle out of him, glancing over at you. "My mistake I guess."

You rolled your eyes, before they carefully combed through the area to see if Alex had chanced upon you and caught you fraternising with your brother's competitor. Oh the absolute horror. "Oh poor you, I bet everytime you do donuts you're convinced it'd get all the girls to drop their panties for you."

Carlos blinked. "I wouldn't know myself," He juts his right shoulder upwards before taking yet another hit of his cigarette. "D'you wanna test that theory?" He asks you, smoke leaving his mouth and nostrils like a dragon.

"Oh you're a real treat aren't you?" You feigned a smile.

"Just about." He replied, cheekily grinning at you.

You furrow your brows at him. "Funny." You said. "Don't push your luck, connard." Jerk. You cussed as you shook your head. Finally, the sad baby cow eyes effect were wearing off, you thought. But then again, this was a street racer you were talking to. Even your brother had his questionable moments at times.

"Ahh, tough luck I guess. Usually the French love me." You hear him say as you checked the time on the dainty watch that once belonged to your Maman's wrapped around your wrist.

"Thank God I'm Monegasque then." You humored, causing him to raise an eyebrow and nod, almost piecing something together. You drop your cigarette to the ground, mercilessly crushing it up beneath your ballerina flats. "I guess I'll see you around?" You ask him politely, a light drawl hanging off your tone, but he offers you a polite smile in return.

"Can I expect you to come to another race soon?" He wondered as you slowly retreated back to where Alexandra had left you. It made you think all of a sudden.

"Don't hold your breath." You answered him.

He makes a face. "I don't have a lot of things to hope on."

You rolled your eyes playfully as you took a few slow steps backwards. "Dosen't sound like my problem." Carlos grinned at you as you pivot on your heel and walked off trying to suppress a grin, hands inside your jacket pockets as you quickly made it back to find Alexandra. Only for her to find you first.

"Where have you been?" She asks you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you around swiftly. "I was looking everywhere for you! Cha finished first you know, he's competing against the previous race winners right now. We were wondering where you ran off to!" Alexandra exclaimed.

"I was just walking around, doing some people watching. The usual." You lied casually, causing her to make a face at you.

"That dosen't explain why you smell like cigarettes again." She says, causing you to grimace inwardly. You forgot to shove some mints in your purse before leaving your apartment. Usually chucking a couple of them into your mouth would help cover your tracks, but your carelessness has bitten you in the ass once more.

"It's a street race Alex, it's bound to get a little dusty." You tell her laughing. "You dont get to talk either, you smell like you bathed in a vat of lychee martinis when you left."

She hummed, crossing her hands over her chest. "Touché"

You look back at her, sporting a victorious little grin one to which she rolled her eyes that faded oh so quickly when someone from behind you suddenly made you stumble forward, you were about to cuss them off when the infamous red and blue lights of police cars drew nearer and nearer alongside the blaring sirens.

"Holy shit." Alexandra gasped as she took a hold of your hand while everybody started bolting the other way like disturbed garden bugs once residing underneath an overturned rock.

"Jesus Christ-" You said before you began squeezing yourself into the distressed crowd. People were ramming into the pair of you from different directions as you tried to make your escape, you hear the police officers making arrests in the far off distance as you continued to fight your way through the throngs of people. Only when you finally ran off to where you had smoked a cigarette prior to the arrival of the police had you realized Alex hadn't followed you out like you so foolishly hoped she did.

The churning in your stomach only worsens when you hear more police cars arrive on the scene. "ALEX?! Jesus Christ- ALEX???" You yelled, trying to find her amidst the sea of people running for their lives, quite literally. "ALEX?!? ALEX WHERE ARE YOU?!?"

You unceremoniously jumped out of your skin when you hear a car pull up behind you causing you to gear up to try and run away, that was until the shotgun window rolled down and there was Carlos strapped in the driver's seat. "Get in!"

You were apalled. "I- I can't find my friend! I don't know where she is!" You shout back.

"Less likely of a chance you'll be able to find her when you're behind bars, come on!" The man insisted with a caring sense of urgency in his eyes.

Your frown deepened as you looked behind you, the sirens were starting to sound nearer. "Carlos I have to find her!" You say, turning back to look at him.

You saw a bulge form on his temple as his fingers flexed around the leather of his steering wheel. "I'll help you find her after the heat dies down, but please do yourself a favor and get in the car!" Carlos yelled before you open the door to the shot gun half-heartedly. You threw yourself inside and before you could even close the door he zoomed off. It felt like you had been suctioned onto the back of the seat as you were sure Carlos had floored it. You turn to look at him, only now you realize how dry your mouth felt, how your tongue felt foreign and rough like sand paper. "Thank you... for that."

"Don't mention it." He replied, dancing past the other cars that ran the speed limit as he drove the pair of you into the highway.

"You're right your ego'll inflate so much to the point it'll slow us down." You equipped, trying to ease the situation a little.

Even Carlos' hard exterior crumbles at that as you hear him chuckle. "Are you always this sweet to people who save your ass?"

"Usually, why?" You replied looking at him who shrugged, smiling ever so slightly. "Can't blame a guy for being curious."

That gets a little chuckle out of you which was promptly interjected by the sounds of sirens coming from behind you. You whip your head around to see at least 3- no, 4 police cars making their way through the traffic behind you. You turn to Carlos, mouth parted to warn him but it seems that he was a step ahead of you was the car went faster.

"They're right on us Carlos." You tell him, trying your hardest to keep your breakfast down as he deliberately ran a red light, causing a collision on the intersection, the car narrowly missing it.

"You doing okay? You don't sound like it." He asks you, taking a few seconds to look at you before they are back on the road as you force yourself to nod.

"Mm-hm, I just love the way car-chases make my knees weak."

"You sure it's the car and not me, hermosa?" He asks you mischievously. You giggled loudly at that. You're not a school-girl get it together. "Shut up, it almost sounds like you want us to get arrested."

He shrugged, smiling a shrewd smile. "Hey, it would be a killer story to relive and laugh about over some dinner sometime."

You glare at him and even in the dark you can see the distinct mischievous glint in his brown eyes. "Did you really just ask me out on a date? Now? While we're this close to being incarcerated???" You interrogate him loudly.

"If we get outta this alive and unscathed? I mean... it couldn't be the worst thing, no?"

You guffawed at his statement turning to him as he sped through yet another red light. "Yes it would, it seems like the only viable option for me now is to jump outta the car and surrender myself to the police."

He laughs boisterously at that. "Dios Mío, you're so mean!" Carlos exclaimed, sporting a boyish smile with his brows furrowed that made your heart do a somersault. "Speaking of police... I think we've lost them." He announces, switching his gaze from his riverview mirror to his sidemirror, with a victorious grin.

"Really??? Jesus Christ that was," you stopped to chuckle in disbelief, wiping the sweat of of your temples. "Exhilirating." You finish, finally landing on a word.

"Eh, same old, same old." Carlos sang dismissively, his face causing you to giggle. "When you've managed to accidentally rob a liquor store at 15 with your friends before school only for you to crash your dad's car into the river and have it blow up in flames all while avoiding being caught by the police, nothing surprises you anymore."

You snort. "How do you accidentally rob a liquor store?"

"Too long a story, I won't bother you with such details." He answers you, drawing a line with the air using his hand. "But the bottom line is that I'm never going to try and see how many bottles of cerveza fit inside my dad's military grade duffel bag."

You sucked in air through your teeth, shaking your head amusedly. "Christ, that behavior warrants you into being the favorite then, dosen't it?"

He hummed at you delightfully. "Look at that, we've only met tonight and yet it seems like I've known you forever." Carlos mused with a genuine smile on his face. "How do you do it?"

"Easy, I was the favorite growing up too." You replied. "Like calls to like after all."

"You're the oldest daughter followed by boys aren't you?"

"No, I was the one that followed boys, 3 of them. After years and years of trying Maman and Papa finally got the daughter they so desperately wished to have." You say, with a distant smile.

"Wow, I'm not good at this." Carlos replied dismally, raking a hand over his face with dread causing you to laugh at him again. "Hats off to them then, their daughter's pretty special."

"If I ever meet your parents I'd say the exact same thing." You replied.

He looks at you teasingly. "No you wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't." You laughed, causing him to laugh too.

The night further blurred after that, to the point that even now several hours later you couldn't exactly pinpoint where you and Carlos have gone after you exited the highway, what you have done, what you have said.

Based off of the egregious headache you were nursing, a wadded up paper bag of chic-fil-a on the chair beside you, and a familiar soreness emanating through your limbs you finally pieced everything together.

Of course, the second you came home to your apartment a call from Charles lit up your phone screen. As much as you wanted to let your phone ring into oblivion, you begrudgingly answered his call.

"vous plaisantez j'espère? c'est la millionième fois que je t'appelle et pourtant tu ne réponds que maintenant à ton téléphone?" Charles practically bellowed the second your call came through. You try not to roll your eyes in front of him. are you kidding me? this is the millionth time i've called you and yet you only answer your phone now?

"laisse-moi mettre fin à l'appel alors, essayons d'atteindre cent millions." You bounced back, pausing your show to divert your full attention to your distressed brother who had probably not even slept a wink since last night... well, earlier this morning. let me end the call then, let's try and reach a hundred million.

"quel ennui tu es! je n'ai pas dormi du tout depuis que tu as décidé de disparaître après la course et de ne pas me dire, ni à Arthur, ni à Enzo, ni même à Alex où tu étais allé!" Charles reasoned loudly making you flinch at the volume of his voice, having to calibrate your own volume settings so your head dosen't explode. what a pain you are! i havent slept at all since you decided you'd disappear after the race and not tell me, or Arthur, or Enzo or even Alex where you'd gone!

"Chill the fuck out will you? I've arrived in my apartment in one piece. I haven't been taken by the police, I don't have any injuries. Je vais parfairtement bien." I'm perfectly fine. You managed, massaging your temple off camera.

"Where were you?" Charles asks you now. "And where did your necklace go? That used to be Mamans."

"I took it off, Jesus." You lied quickly. In truth, you didn't know where the hell it was, but you decided to lie to not make the conversation last any longer than it should. "And I was off with someone- I don't- Why do I have to tell you these things? I'm as old as Arthur aren't I? I don't see you grilling him when he comes home late, in fact your fucking praise him for it!" You defend, finding it in yourself to finally raise your voice at you brother. Who scratched his head in frustration.

Charles remains silent for a second before he opens his mouth. "Fine... Fine! je ne te forcerai pas." I wont force it out of you. Charles exclaimed, ultimately giving in.

You fiddle with the remote in silence before you look back at him, bristling on your spot in the couch. "For what it's worth Cha, I'm sorry I made you worry so much. That was insensitive of me."

His face softens a little when he laughs through his nose. "Whatever, whatever. Truce." He mused, trying to sound all irritated when in fact he was not, causing you to giggle. "Don't pull shit like that the next time you come to my races, putain. I can see why Maman was so eager to let you move out."

You scowled. "you're goddamn insane if you really think i'm going to another race."

"See you Chou, take care." Says Charles, sporting a grin you were relieved to see back on his face. You rolled your eyes at him endearingly. "See you soon, Cha." You then end the call.

When you were about to put your phone down to continue watching the show you had paused, you receive a text message from an unknown number. You decide to view it so you could delete it and not have it take space in your phone storage but forgot about all of that when you finally read the message.

[goldsbitch]

That one trip up the stairs

part 5 to That one Christmas flight

summary: The rest of the hotel visitors probably had a bad sleep that night.

warning: unprotected sex, minors DNI (absolutely no plot involved), and all the classic ones - cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

PS: Thanks for the support and reactions!! Love you all!

Dancing was great. But simply not enough for two impatient hearts. The kind of tipsy for which alcohol was not enough.

"I got us two rooms. Just in case," he said in the very few moments when his tongue was not deeply in her mouth. "Don't want to make you uncomfortable." Lando was big on consent. This only made Y/N want to fuck him more.

Talking and making out at the same time was becoming a shared past time for the pair. "Yeah? Well that makes two of us. I don't want pressure you," she said in between kisses. "That's the last thing I'd want to do. You don't have to fuck me. I understand the thought of you being inside me might be hard to take in," she said in a low suggestive tone with no other intension that seducing Lando. It was not like he needed to be at this point. He had her seated on some random alcove window on the way to their hotel room, hands full on touching her boobs, legs, kissing her neck, everything all at once.

"Get it? It's a pun," she broke their kiss again for a small moment.

"Yes, I get it. And you'll get it too if you don't stop now." Tongues and lips danced together as if their life depended on it.

"Hm, that might be hard, in fact getting harder and harder. Makes one wonder, huh" she teased and ran few stairs away from Lando.

There was no elevator, but Lando and Y/N sure had the making out while walking on stairs thing covered like professionals. Leaning on walls, nearly breaking a vase with a massive flower arrangement. They hardly noticed a distressed gentlemen walking in the opposite way who then filed a complaint to the hotel about their inappropriate behavior, describing it in such a detail one would expect the premium hotel to somewhat censor - which was not the case this time. When Lando received this email two days later, he had it printed, framed and hung on his bedroom wall. Next to his trophies.

Y/N wanted Lando and for him to want her too. And coming to think of it, she had been lusting for him for weeks now. The public shirtless pictures did not help. And he was right here at her finger tips. Her clouded mind saw no issue in removing his shirt in the middle of the hallway. Quickly working the buttons and the immediately throwing it out of the nearest window.

"Oops," she smiled and bit her lip. Lando stared at her in awe, her playfulness being something new to see in a woman. "Just sort of felt like a crime to have you dressed, you know?" she continued. If he could, he would take her right there. "Let's hope your hotel rooms are close, otherwise you'll be in trouble for public nudity soon," she sang loudly, indeed without a care in the world. Lando laughed, took her by the hand and kissed like as if he was ready to eat her up.

"That door, honey," he pointed to the end of the hallway.

"You're just lucky, aren't you."

//

And again, Y/N's hands went immediately for the chest. What she did not expect when studying Lando's photos was how smooth his skin felt. She remembered his fragrance working like magic on his skin, but this was a whole another level. She wanted to sink in him. They did not bother with putting the card in the holder, switching on the lights or anything else. It would be hard to find some other pair that took of their shoes so fast. Desire was putting them both into hyper speed.

This time Y/N had Lando pressed against the door, holding him locked by his arms. Lando could have easily escape that if he wanted to, which was the last thing he'd do. Y/N was becoming more driven and forward.

She bit his lower lip. He gasped. "Do you like this?" He nodded and smiled. "Good boy," she replied and continued pulling his hair a little bit more, just to the edge of pain. The she abruptly stopped. Lando looked at her and she instructed him to stay as he was. Her soft kisses started at Lando's ear, moving slowly on his jaw, then neck - where he seemed to be extra sensitive - and then down to his chest, all the way to his toned stomach. She looked up at him and took the hem of his trousers into her mouth. And finally, one of her hands touched his growing erection.

"Interesting," she commented with a hint of being impressed. Lando was absolutely loving that. But as much as he'd like to be in her mouth, he hoped there would be another time for that. He put a finger below her jaw and instructed her to move up.

"Honey, be patient. There steps that can't be skipped," he said as he began to toy with her shoulder straps until one of them fell down her shoulder. "Oops," he remarked mocking her previous actions. "Let me help you." And he moved the second strap as well. Y/N was getting flustered. She did not break eye contact for a second when she was removing her dress, leaving her standing there centimetres away from him only in her underwear. The rest of their clothes was on the floor in the matter of seconds. Both of them being eaten up by their curiosity. It was impossible to stay there standing. Lando pushed Y/N towards the bed in the same was they'd manager to walk up three flights of stairs. Only once she was finally lying below his, with his body hovering over hers was he able to relax and take the moment in. A week ago he would not have believed this was going to happen. His deep philosophical thoughts were gone the moment her hand reached for his cock. A shock wave of horny energy sprung through him and took Y/N nipple in his mouth and started playing with one, hard making sure the other one did feel left out. She was beautiful - this was not a surprise to Lando, but something about the shape of her body, the way she moved, the way how her body reacted to his actions was making her angel-like. Y/N wanted to go slow - if slow meant him waiting another minute maximum before he got into her. She touched him and started stroking him. "I have a proposition," she whispered to his ear.

"Anything," and he was sure he'd do anything she desired at the moment.

"Let's skip the fingers and tongues, I need to feel you like now. I want you inside. And the rest can be a nice breakfast tomorrow."

"I can't have that. Let me lick you once, just to taste, hm?"

"You can do whatever. Just make me happy and make me come, finally."

She was wet, ready and impatient. Lando licked her few times, making her regret her request instantly. It was something completely new. He wasn't just spalling his tongue around like the boys before him had. It was as if he had a secret map and was not afraid to be a little rough with his tongue. "Please, don't stop," she almost begged.

"As you said, breakfast," he joked once he was back face to face with her, being proud of himself when he saw her flustered look. Their bodies acted on their own from that moment. He slowly entered her, making sure to stay aware of her expressions. She had her eyes closed and was gripping his shoulders tightly. First moans arrived. Lando recalled Y/N teasing him on the way to the hotel that she likes to express herself verbally. He hoped this was what she talked about, because the sound she made was one of the hottest things he heard. Lando felt as if he belonged inside of her. Started thrusting slowly - and that was the moment Y/N lost it and let go. The rest was a mixture of blurry pleasure waves coming from all parts of the body, alcohol intensifying the experience for both of them. Lando was trapped in the moment and the rhytmn, watched her boobs bounce as he pushed to her. Y/N felt him present at every inch of her skin, his cock hitting spots she had no idea existed. Small waves of pleasure turned bigger with every move, until she collapsed in his arms and screamed out loud. He could watch that on repeat for centuries. She tightened around him for a good few seconds and then released. Lando sped up and pulled out at the dead last moment, hitting her stomach and a part of her arms. He cleaner her up and they both started catching up on their lost breaths. "Forgot to ask you, do you have a condom?" he asked cheekily. She laughed. "You'll send me your test results later, honey," she laughed, fully exhausted and high from all the hormones. Lando's body felt relaxed, as if someone finally allowed him to go off all the tension. Y/N was still receiving small pleasure waves in her fingertips. Was sex supposed to always be this good, she asked herself, putting her previous hook ups in a completely new light. He reached to her face and wiped a tear of sweat from her cheek. During that her studies her, the way her collarbone stood out and how her chest still went up and down faster than usually. Y/N looked him deep into his eyes. It was so easy, no awkward tension. She admired his pretty face and then kissed him lightly.

He was the one to suggest a shower. Tired Y/N grabbed all that was left in her and went ahead. She got up naked and hoped he was watching her. Which he did shamelessly, trying to burn the image of her ass into his brain for later use.

Lando's hair was all curly and cute. Y/N commented on that to which he responded by splashing some water in her face. It was hard to focus on anything else but the way how Lando looked and glowed with ease. "I'll help you with the soap," he offered dearly.

"Always a gentleman," Y/N remarked as he spread it all over her body, being extra focused on very specific parts.

"I don't think my boobs have ever been this clean, Lando," she said and reached for his again erected penis.

"Hygiene, people tend to underestimate it dearly," he managed to get out before dozing off from the way she stroked him, making him come for the second time today.

They dried each other with hotel towels, when Y/N started to come to her sense and usual brain usage levels. "Do you happen to know what happened to my luggage? Is it in the car?"

"Had it all brought here, I guess it's in the second room across the hall."

"Wow, who would assume for you to be such a planner. Shall we get to the second room? And maybe test which bed better?"

Lando smiled. "I can see you falling asleep while standing, honey."

"It feels nice spending time with you, you know?"

He kissed her once again, cupping her cheek and stroking her hair. They went to the other room, brushed their teeth and laid down. Y/N was gone asleep immediately. He watched for few more moments before also dozing off. If he wanted to he, he would - and he really wanted to.

part 6

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak

[luveternals]

paring: 5. simon 'ghost' riley x reader rating: — cw: none. if you read between the lines the MC is just insecure, of what? it depends on how you interpret it, i guess. a/n: make sure to reblog and/or comment. it literally makes my day, thank you! ~ ~ ~

It's pouring, angry thunder shaking your windows. You press your cold fingers against the side of your burning cup, steam brushes past the tip of your nose, but your fingertips are numb and you can't seem to get any warmth out of it. You consider giving the chimney a try, but the living room is quite big and you're alone. Lighting flashes, illuminating the room, before everything plunges back into a darkness broken only by the dimly lit screen of your phone.

"I'm sorry." The words are soft as they come from the other side of the line.

"Don't be," you say. Your voice is leveled, a little flatter than normal, but still steady, "a blackout just killed the lights anyway, the TV is useless now."

"The road's closed and the—"

"You don't have to make excuses." You take a sip of your drip, but press your lips into a line as you look at it. It's shit. "We'll see the movie tomorrow, when Zeus stops throwing a fit."

There's a long pause from the other side and the faintest sigh, as if Simon pulled away just so you can't hear it. Jokes on him, he's forgotten the noise cancellation off again and the microphone on his phone is picking up everything. The rain pouring, the cars honking, the crowd laughing. The glasses clinking together.

"Alright," he says, spelling every letter of the word like he wants to be sure you hear it properly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Love you, darlin'."

"Yeah," you nod into your cup. You reach your hand forward and let your finger hover over the button to end the call for a second. It's redder than you remember. "Love you too," you say in one breath final before you tap the screen and the call finally cuts off.

You take the phone with your now free hand and stare at the lock screen. There's a picture of him, fast asleep with his face buried into your pillow. He lives a few hours drive away, and the day you snapped the picture he came to visit and ended up staying for a week. He'd steal your clothes and you found you didn't mind one bit.

Your heart clenches but the corners still pull into a fond, sad smile.

You're tired, sore and mentally numb. Your two weeks work trip went quite well despite everything but the stress of both the social interactions and the need to impress some people who probably already forgot about you, drained your batteries.

You were looking forward to a cozy night with the person that gives light to your days but it seems all you'll get is a cold, dark dreamless night.

You leave the cup barely touched on the center table and stretch out on the couch. It's a little small but you curl on a side, tuck an arm under your head and pull the blanket over your head.

~

You stir when a gentle weight is settled over your blanket with tender care. You shift as you feel warm breath brushing against your forehead, "sometimes, I wonder if I'm dating a puppy with abandonment issues," he chuckles against your ear.

You're still out of it, you can't even open your eyes properly, but scooching up the pillows to make space for him comes to you like second nature. He lifts both of the blankets and weasels his way on top of you, his head resting on your shoulders and his legs tangles with yours in a way that, with no doubt, will get both of you sore very soon. He ignores the strange, unhealthy position you're both puzzled into the tiny couch and sighs contently against your neck. The warmth of his body sips into yours and you feel the stiffness of hour muscles melts away.

His hair is a little damp as it tickles your chin. You reach your hand up to check but when you frown ready to ask, you feel his weight settle heavily about your body. He fell asleep, already?

You consider looking at the time but a yawn throws the thought out the window. You circle your arms around him and pull him closer. Questions can be asked later, enjoying his presence now is what really matters now.

~ ~ ~

~ TAGLIST ~

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

a/n: anyone who wants to be added to the taglist, feel free to tell me :)

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky x Reader Imagine

He had decided to take himself to a museum that was unlike any others he had been to. He goes to the 'twist' museum early, hoping that there would be less visitors and he was correct.

At the front desk the elderly lady squints her eyes at him and asks "single ticket?" He nods and she goes "most of the illusions need two." Oh. Bucky spends a second working out if it is worth just going in and watching others or if that is creepy and he should leave when she continues on. "But that's okay.. Y/N!"

You walk around the corner, dressed in the same uniform as the older lady except... Well the uniform looks good on you. His eyes scan you (as they would anyone else, as he was trained) and he finds you strikingly attractive.

"Yeah Linda?" You smiled sweetly at the lady, eyes flickering between the two.

"Are you able to help this gentleman through the museum? He's by himself."

You nod, suspicion laced in your slight frown. "Okay, but you'll let me know if you need me back yeah?"

You and Bucky slowly walk through the entrance and through the "no colour" segment. "You're lucky because you don't have to read the info. They use lights that cancel eachother out and display this yellow hue- oh sorry unless you wanted to read the signs."

Bucky shakes his head looking down at his red shirt which was now a monotone yellow, like his jeans and skin. You were dosed in the same yellow but still breathtaking. "I won't say no to a guided tour." He tries to joke.

You smile and lead him to the one zone where one of the four lights turns off - bringing back colour to the world. "Where's your phone?" He hands it over wordlessly. "Right, c'mon handsome give me a smile, in three, two-"

The light turned off and you took a few photos, he didn't really smile for them but that was up to him. You revealed one of the photos and showed that behind him was an array of 'balloons' (they were fake but they looked the part) some of which now had colour to them like his face and shoulders. The rest were blank and yellow.

You were about to lead him away when he stopped you. "Do you not want a photo?"

No of course you don't want a photo, you don't need one, you're here all the time. But his eyes - which you knew to be blue - were gazing into your soul and he adopted a shy smirk. "I guess we could update the website." You stood waiting for him to take the photo smiling and then sticking your tongue out.

Bucky and you walked for ages throughout the museum. It was a brilliant little pop up thing and he really enjoyed the illusions. There was a photo of strawberries he was convinced was red but you told him it was the way his mind worked. He knew they were red in real life when in this picture they were gray-scale. There was another picture on the wall that you had to wear different colours glasses to see the images underneath. Red was his favourite and blue was yours. A lot of not straight looking lines and rulers underneath them sparked a debate between the two of you. Rooms that shone with thousands of colours making you look angelic. Rooms that housed a series of tubes and when one put their head through it, inside was thousands of mirrors. Thousands of himself reflected against the led lights and on the other end you were there laughing at his reaction. You were the prettiest kaleidescope. There was a room where if you stood in one place and he the other you looked humongous and he was tiny (that might've been his favourite photo merely because he looked minuscule). And a room where if you sat on the floor and he stood ten feet forward he could pat your head and it looked like you were tiny sitting on a chair. The "most hi-tech part of the museum" was ball with a chair in. You told him to sit still and pressed a button and the ball lit up snapping photos from every angle. The photos collected to make a 3D image of himself. It turned in a circle but never looked like it was the back of him. His face was always pronounced and always facing forward. He made you do one too. Now you passed that part there were more electronic screens with illusions, a room for sound illusions and more "wonky rooms".

You were heading towards the gift shop and exit when you spoke a small "thank you. Sorry you had to put up with me, Linda is always trying to set me up but this has actually been enjoyable." You blushed. "I only mean sometimes people are weird. And you haven't been. And I'm rambling."

Bucky nodded along, wondering how many people you had to walk through this museum. He doubted it was a lot, but he still felt a strange pang of jealousy. "I hope it's not too weird to ask for your number - I have a few nice pics of you on here." He raised his phone, which had gotten more use in the past hour than it had in the past month. "For your website, of course."

You took his phone with ease and put your number into it. "I have some nice photos of you too, merely for your enjoyment."

You both chuckle and slowly part ways wishing you didn't have to.

.

.

When Bucky showed Steve the photos the other man teased him about looking happy and he was right. Bucky was actually smiling in these photos but it wasnt a wonder as to why.. not when someone so pretty was holding the camera.

.

.

A week later you texted him, unexpectedly.

Y/N: hope you don't mind... I might've used a photo of us on the website

Bucky: What one?

Y/N: the one where I'm massive and you're baby

Bucky: I love that one

Y/N: yeah, I think it's cute

Y/N: but I just wanted to let ya know, yakno?

Bucky: Thank you.

.

.

A week later he texted you, unexpectedly.

Bucky: Saw this and thought of you. (With an attachment of a magic eye poster)

Y/N: omg I love those, but I can hardly ever see them!!!!

Bucky: You work in an illusion museum!

Y/N: ik, it's heartbreaking!

.

.

Y/N: I'm not a massive creep

Bucky: Go on

Y/N: turn to the right

Bucky looked up from his spot in the park. He came here a lot, sitting on the same bench, just to be alone.

There you were. Standing smiling at him with a small wave. You were wearing jeans and a white button up shirt, your hair was tied up neatly and you had sunglasses on.

"hey!" You smirked, taking a seat next to him.

"hi." He replied, still in shock. "How you been?"

"Alright, just came from an interview." You raised your crossed fingers. "Here's hoping."

"You didn't like the museum?"

"I loved it but it's only a pop up." You took the sunglasses off. "It'll be ending next week."

That was a shame. "Where was your interview?"

"The Smithsonian." You folded your legs. "I know I know, one museum to another, what a party animal I am."

He and you fell into an easy conversation which lasted all night. You only stopped because your stomach growled and you sheepishly asked if he was hungry. He would follow you anywhere so of course he was hungry.

[heavenlyakin]

Bluelock Tinder Hookup Series: Rin Itoshi

wc: 2520

Warnings: a little ooc for Sae I think, fem reader, use of “brat,” “slut,” and “princess,” spitting, fingering, orgasm denial, and kitchen sex.

Description: Hookup #1 in my latest series. College AU Tinder Hookup Series: starring Rin Itoshi. This is a nontraditional hookup and I hope you enjoy the story! This one is light and silly at first but of course, you get some steamy scenes. Also, if someone guesses what drink Rin makes, I’ll write you something!

The man who sits across from you is not who’s picture you’d been looking at for the last few days. His red hair is definitely not the dark green you’d been expecting, and his features, except his strikingly familiar eyes, are all wrong. 

“You’re not Rin,” you say softly, leaning forward on the table with your elbows. 

“Correct. I’m Sae,” his tone is colder than you expected. “Why’d you want to match with my brother?” 

You laugh, put off by the abruptness of his question. “Why is it any of your business? Where is he? How’d you know I was meeting him here?” 

“Oh, I run his Tinder. He wouldn’t be caught dead in that cesspool. I just like to fuck with people.” He admits, leaning forward. “You’re really pretty, though. So I’ll entertain you.” 

“You’re fucking weird,” you move away, sitting back in your seat and grabbing your purse from the ground. “But, do feel free to give your brother my regards.” 

Sae laughs, a smile plastered on his once bored expression. “Your loss,” he calls back as you walk away. 

Everything about that has triggered something in you. So much so that you delete the Tinder app from your phone. Your walk home is fine, but you find yourself looking behind you to make sure that creep isn’t following you home. He didn’t give you stalker vibes, but who the hell uses their brother to match with girls on Tinder? Especially when they’re that attractive on their own. It’s fucking twisted. 

When you check the time on your phone, you’re not spatially aware of your surroundings and run into someone at the end of a crosswalk. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid, I didn’t even see you in front of me and-” You look up and notice that it’s none other than the man you originally matched with on Tinder; Rin. 

“Watch where you’re going and this won’t happen.” He scoffs, wiping off his shirt. “Wait, are you —-.” 

“Yeah, why?” You look up at him towering over you. 

“You ghosted me today.” He frowns, looking unimpressed with your response. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re the girl from Tinder right.” He asks, quieter and looking around to see if anyone is listening to the both of you. 

“Yeah, actually I am. But I’m confused, your brother-” 

“What about my brother?” Anger flares in his voice.

“He met me where we were supposed to meet and I guess tried to flirt with me in some creepy way, and claimed he ran your Tinder account.” 

“What?” He looks shocked. 

“You two need to sort that out. I’m not playing games with either of you.” You start to walk away but Rin grabs your arm. 

“Can you please explain what happened?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Walk with me, we can get a drink at my place. I’ll tell you everything.” You begin walking towards your off-campus apartment and explain in detail what happened. It clearly wasn’t a lot but you can recall every word since it was just a few minutes ago. 

“We didn’t agree to meet at the student union though,” he frowns. 

“You changed it last minute, remember?” You say and he shakes his head no. “Check our messages. I got so mad at your stupid brother that I deleted the app. You’ll see that ten minutes before our date you messaged me to meet at the student union instead.” 

He pulls out his phone as you open the door to the lobby of your apartments. He notices and grabs the door above your head. “After you,” he says. 

You smile and lead him inside and to the elevator. “Well, did you see it?” 

He’s frowning at his phone as you press the button to your floor. “Yeah, but I didn't send this. That fucker must really have my login information.” 

“Yeah, you should change your password.” You comment, not really sure what to say. 

“No wonder I keep getting ghosted.” He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“You should. It’ll do society a favor.” You tease, nudging him with your elbow. 

He smiles, barely, but it’s there. “Yeah,” he agrees and looks up at the numbers changing above the elevator door. 

The elevator finally stops and you lead him to your apartment, opening the door and walking in before him. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you smile and let him walk in passed you so you can shut the door. 

“It’s nice. Reminds me of my place.” He tells you and stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room. 

“You can sit, make yourself comfortable.” You walk into the kitchen, grabbing some Moscato from your fridge and then you realize you don’t know what he drinks. “Do you like wine? I don’t have beer. Um, I have some vodka and tequila too…” you look through your liquor cabinet. “Oh, I have this gin too.” 

“Do you have lime juice and simple syrup?” He asks, walking over to your breakfast bar across from the cabinets. 

“I think so,” you look further in the fridge and find the simple syrup and a few limes. “I do! Thank god my old roommate was a bartender and left me all this.” 

“Oh, do you live alone now?” Rin asks as he starts to mix himself a drink. 

“As of a few days ago, yeah. She moved back home.” You take another sip of your wine, enjoying the sweet peachy flavor. 

“Ah,” he pours the drink into the glass you hand him after he’s done shaking the drink. He tasted it and buns softly, it must be good. 

“Can I have a taste?” You ask, curious about the drink. “Pretty please,” you bat your eyelashes for effect. 

He grins, shaking his head no. “It’s mine. No.” 

You walk around the breakfast bar, taking the glass from his hand quickly. “It’s my glass. My liquor.” 

He’s faster taking it back, then holding it up so you can’t reach it. “Brats don’t get what they want.” He challenges and your body heats up. 

Oh. 

“I just want a little taste,” you beg, pouting your bottom lip out. 

He takes another sip, his hand caressing your cheeks. As he swallows his thumb grazes across your lip, tugging it down to open your mouth. You oblige, parting your lips and letting him have his way. He takes another sip. 

In a blink of an eye his hand is squeezing your mouth open wider and he spits the drink into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you clench your fists, your body heating up more than before as you slowly swallow the slightly sweet and sour drink. He went heavy on the lime, you realize as it slides down your throat. 

“Good girl, swallowed without me even asking,” he pats your cheek with his fingers and you step closer to him. 

“I-” before you can finish your thought, Rin’s lips are on yours. The taste of his drink floods your mouth with his tongue. You reach for his shirt, grabbing the soft fabric and pulling yourself closer to him so your body is flush with his. 

His hands settle on your hips, pulling you against him, his cock hard under his pants and pressing against you. A moan slips past your lips against Rin’s. 

“Moaning already?” He pulls away, his right hand moving from your hip to your cheek, his thumb teasing your bottom lip again. “I’ve barely touched you, slut.” 

Something about the way the degradation slips past his pretty lips so effortlessly turns you on more.  “Can’t help it,” you shrug looking up at him. 

“I bet you’re soaking wet under those shorts.” He whispers next to your ear, his thumb pressing into your mouth. You close your lips around it and suck lightly. “Should I find out?” 

“Mmhm,” you hum around his thumb desperate for him to touch you. 

His left-hand moves from your hip, tugging your linen shorts open just enough so he can slip his hand in. You feel his fingertips tease the outline of your panties. You want to beg him to hurry up, but you also enjoy the teasing look in his beautiful teal eyes. He wants to drag this out, you realize. He finally presses his fingers against your clit through the thin fabric, and you whimper. 

“I was right,” he smirks, his fingers tracing slow circles as your thighs quiver slightly. “Soaking wet through your flimsy underwear.” 

You pop his thumb out of your mouth, grinning before speaking. “Didn’t expect a soccer player to be so good with his fingers,” his smirk turns to an intense frown. “Aw didn’t like that?” 

“I prefer you with your mouth full.” He tells you, pushing you back against the breakfast bar. His fingers slip into your underwear. 

“Fuck,” you whimper as his thumb teases your clit and his fingers start to enter you. 

“I like that sound as well,” he tells you, a small chuckle leaving his lips. 

Suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your shorts and panties down around your knees as he goes. You gasp and your fingers go right to his hair as he leans forward and his tongue swipes across your cunt. 

“Rin,” you gasp as he slips a finger in you as he sucks on your clit. His hair tangles in your fingers and you grip the breakfast bar with your free hand to steady yourself. He hums against you sending shivers down your legs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ you moan, pulling his hair. 

His fingers pump into you faster while he continues lapping at you like you’re a meal he intends to devour. You throw your head back, letting yourself feel and enjoy every single sensation Rin blesses you with. It’s overwhelming and takes all your strength to stay standing still for him. His grip on your right thigh with his hand is intense, and probably going to leave a bruise. 

Just as you start to feel the familiar build of tension in your lower stomach and your body starts to shake, he pulls away abruptly. 

“Rin, what the fuck,” you gasp, catching your breath and staring down at him. 

He smiles, actually smiles at you. “Impatieny slut,” the words sound beautiful coming from that cruel mouth. 

Your body just wants more, more of him and his cruelty. He stands up, pulling you close and kissing you. The taste of yourself on his lips is erotic. You pull him closer with his belt loops, leaving just enough room for your hands to undo his belt and pants, unzipping the zipper next. 

“Want to go to my bedroom?” You ask as you slowly take his cock in your hand, stoking it once and then twice. 

“Who needs the bedroom? I could take you right here on this counter.” He tells you, his voice serious and rough. “Or do you need some pillows, princess? Can’t take the hard counters?” 

“I can take you, and that’s all that matters, right?” You squeeze his cock a bit tighter and he inhales sharply. “I’m desperate for you,” you put on the sexiest voice you can muster, almost making yourself laugh. 

“Oh shut up,” he mutters, closing his eyes as you continue jerking him off. “Turn around.” 

You let go of him, turning around as he ordered and bracing the breakfast bar with your hands and arms. You feel his hands on your ass before you hear the sound of his pants hitting the ground around his ankles. He cock grazes your ass and you wiggle it at him. 

“Stay still,” he grips you tightly and you feel the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. 

“Oh god,” you whimper as he thrusts inside of you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. He makes you feel so full, you’re unable to think of anything but him and his cock inside of you. He moans quietly, barely audible, but you catch it. 

He begins to thrust in and out of you, gripping your hips to keep you still as he fucks you. It’s intense, like him. Everything you imagined this moment might be like is completely shattered and blown away by the actuality of it all. 

“Harder,” you ask, breathless against the countertop and looking back at him as best as you can. 

He laughs, “You need more, princess? Fucking dirty slut.” 

Before today, you’ve never had someone bounce so effortlessly between sweet to cruel names for you and it’s doing something to your body. You don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused or needy for someone in your life. You feel that familiar tension building again, coming back from where Rin denied it earlier. Your body heats up and you try your best to keep from cumming now. 

“Go ahead and cum, princess.” Rin leans down, his body pressing against yours and pushing him deeper into you. “I can always make you cum again. Don’t hold back on me.” He whispers against your ear. 

That’s all it takes. 

You clench around his cock, cumming and moaning a slur of his name and curses. Your body goes limp against the counter. He continues to fuck into you, supporting you with his hands. 

“You feel incredible,” he mumbles, and you imagine he has his head tossed back and is enjoying every second of being inside of you. From what you can see behind you, you’re correct. 

He stops suddenly, and you push up with your arms and look behind you fully. “What, is something wrong?” 

He pulls out of you and without saying a word spins you around. 

“Jump up here,” he pats the top of the breakfast bar. 

You oblige, gripping the edge of the bar with your hands and jumping up. He pushes back inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips are on yours before you can think to kiss him first and he begins to fuck into you harder than before. 

You can’t focus on his lips or tongue, only on holding onto him and moaning against his lips. This position feels much more intimate and overwhelming with pleasure. Your nails dig into his skin, his shoulders feel so strong under your fingers that you’re sure this isn’t even noticeable to him. It makes you curious. 

You drag your nails down his back and he groans against your mouth. “Do that again.” 

So you do, and you feel him twitch inside of you. His thrusts become sloppier and faster if that’s even possible. His stamina is unreal, and it makes you want to thank whoever the fuck his coach is for the conditioning he must have put Rin through to build this up. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groans as he cums, thrusting into you a few more times before stilling inside of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours, and it's sweaty, and his hair sticks to your forehead and his. “I need another drink before we go again.” 

“Again?” You laugh, praying your pussy will make it through the day.

[juneknight]

•.Be Lost.• 2

Chapter One | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter Two | Chapter 2.5

*

“You talk about them often enough. I feel like we should formally meet. What’s the equivalent of putting a face to a name, but with sex toys?” Marc asks, voice warm with mirth from the other end of the phone. It’s the only thing warm about living up here in the constant snowstorms. Your feet ache today from stomping around in the fields on the frozen earth. Even though Spring approaches on the calendar, you don’t yet feel it in the air. 

You dread the thought of possibly having to delay your return home, to Marc, because of the weather. 

Your box of sex toys (it’s a shoe box, yes, some nice Cat’s boots with steel in the toes and thick insulated soles, a half-size larger than usual to allow for thick wooly socks which you favored) sits on the bed. You no longer even owned the shoes, but the box was heavy, the lid bulging from two years of collecting an eclectic set of sex toys. 

“I’ll show you. But I have rules,” you say, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear. 

“I’m listening.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and it drives you nuts. 

“One–absolutely no naming them. I’m serious. The last thing I want is to be trying to get off and remember that you named a certain dildo Colonel Mustard.” 

“I’m more of a Professor Plum kind of guy anyway, but consider your objection noted.” 

“No making fun of me of any kind. Not even light teasing.” 

“Agreed.” 

“And no questions.” 

“That’s…yeah, I don’t think I can agree to that,” he says, surprising you given how amicable he’s been so far. “Can we agree on premeditated questions? Some basics that you answer for each of them?” 

You purse your lips and sit down heavily on your bed. The box rattles beside you, lid almost coming off. “Depends on the questions, I guess.” 

“When was the last time you used it, and your personal rating out of ten.”

You relax somewhat. Whatever you had been worried about Marc wanting to know—’gross, why that?’ or ‘who used that on you?’—disappears. Maybe it says something about the men you’ve been with lately that your first fear is that Marc will become jealous or judgemental. You should have known that Marc would be different. “Yeah, okay. That’s fine.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice growing firm. “I don’t want you to say something’s okay when it isn’t. That’s a big deal to me.”

“I’m sure, dad.” 

Marc snorts. “Okay, champ. FaceTime. Let’s go.”

You press the button, and while it connects, you experience all five stages of grief, chewing on one of your thumbnails as you shift from one socked foot to the other. At last his face appears, and it’s like a punch to the gut. Marc is so handsome: his brows, the curve of his nose, his whiskey-warm eyes, the curls spilling onto his forehead. His hair is longer now than the last time you saw him, and it makes your heart clench. You find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

“Hey, beautiful,” Marc says, eyes squinting with his smile. “Long time no see.” 

“Too long,” you admit. You study the picture in the background, trying to piece together where he is in his apartment. Judging by the lighting (warm but dark) and the lamp in the background, he is in his bedroom. This is confirmed when he rolls over onto his side and props himself up onto his elbow on one of the fluffy pillows. 

Once, you had gotten too drunk to drive home and Marc had let you sleep in his bed. You had spent the whole night rolling around on the soft sheets, breathing in his scent, aching but too guilty to touch yourself. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows lifting. His mouth settles into a soft, more neutral position, like he is being careful not to convince you one way or another. His lips are so full and soft looking… “If you don’t want to do this, we can say forget it. I just like to know what my options are.”

His options—oh fuck. 

Your face burns hot. You slap one palm against your cheek, feeling the heat your skin gives off, knowing that Marc is watching you (which makes your face burn all the hotter). Fuck, how can he just say stuff like that, calm and casual in his soft, warm voice? You think about turning the camera away for a moment just to catch your breath. 

“You’re so shy right now,” Marc says, a hint of laughter in his voice. “God. It’s cute.” 

“Quit,” you groan, parting your fingers so you can glare at the phone. His grin just grows. “I’m not shy, I have a strap-on.” 

“If you think having six inches between your legs makes you immune to shyness, I’ve got news for you.”

“Is that all you’ve got? Six inches?” 

“You want to see?” The way he raises his brow, the way he so expertly calls your bluff makes your thighs clench together. Like a great neon sign flashing behind your eyes right now are the words MARC’S COCK. You’ve never seen it, but you know Marc is well hung. You’ve seen him adjust his hard ons before—in the morning after waking up, during a particularly steamy scene on Netflix. The bulge in his sweats has made an appearance or two in your dreams, yes. 

“Maybe,” you admit, wondering if he’ll show you. Right now. On FaceTime. Just whip his dick out for you to drool over. 

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he says, mouth quirking into a smirk. “But really. Go on. I have work in the morning, and I want to see every last toy.” 

You bring out plenty of things that are “normal”. G-spot vibrators. Clitoral vibrators. Rabbit vibes, and pretty glass dildos. Most of the items get a high score—you have narrowed them down to your favorites. A natural selection amongst sex toys, if you will. 

Sometimes you glance to Marc and get flustered at the solemn, studious expression on his face. He hangs on your every word, committing the things you say to memory. No man has ever given you attention the way Marc does: whole-heartedly. Singularly. Unconditionally. 

Your throat gets choked up for a moment at the thought. God, you’re falling in love with him, you think in terror to yourself, as if you haven’t already. As if your knees aren’t skinned and palms bloody from the fall. 

“You okay, honey?”

You jump a little, having gotten lost in your own thoughts. You clear your throat. 

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You pick up the next item, a candle. When he asks you what scent it is, you laugh a little. “The wax melts at a safe temperature for wax play. You know. Pouring wax on somebody.” 

“Rate it.” 

“It’s…maybe a four. May-be.” 

Massage oil (8), cuffs (10), collapsible spreader bar (9), bite gag (5), blindfold (10), harness (7), all come and go. It is easier to continue once you get talking, and by the end you feel like late night Dr. Ruth. 

At last, the box is empty. 

“That’s all she wrote,” you tell Marc. He looks a little sleepy, though his eyes are still sharp where they focus on you, tracing over your features. He is quiet. You prod: “Well?” 

“I’m going to have to use every last one on you,” he says, eyes on your own. “And until I can, I’m going to be thinking about you using every last one on yourself.”

His shoulder shifts, arm moving off screen—adjusting his hard cock. 

“Fuck, Marc,” you sigh brokenly. “You can’t say shit like that.” 

“That wasn’t one of your rules,” he says, eyes going heavy-lidded. You thought he was just adjusting himself, but the motion continues. Not enough for him to be full-fledged jerking off, but you think that’s he’s teasing himself. Massaging himself maybe. Your thighs squeeze together. Would he notice if you did the same? “Thank you for the show-and-tell. You’re such a good girl for me.” 

You groan. 

He laughs, the sound gentle and teasing. “That gets you, huh?” 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you bark, endeavoring to cover your face as best as you can with one hand. The truth of his observation doesn’t matter; it’s the principle of the thing. Peeking through your fingers, you catch his expression, and your breath hitches. Marc looks at the phone screen with something unbearably tender in his eyes, something so terribly soft. 

Marc looks at you like he loves you. 

“Which one’s your favorite? Let me see it again.” 

Your favorite. Hmm. You step back from your bed and look at the toys spread out so neatly, your brain turning over the question. All of them get you hot in one way or another, but there is one that stands out. You end up choosing a relatively simple rabbit vibrator. It’s ol’ Faithful; what else can you say? 

“Is this what you grab when you want to blow your own mind, or is this what you grab any old night?” 

“I want to blow my own mind every old night, Spector.” 

“Noted. But you’re not pouring hot wax on yourself every old night,” he says. It is utterly distracting how his shoulder still tenses periodically, hand moving off-screen. You spend an inordinate amount of time watching those small muscles flex, trying to recreate the image of what his hand must be doing in your mind. “What is it about this one? What do you like about it?” 

“I like that it fills me up,” you admit. It is a little easier to talk when you’re so distracted by him. “I like that I can use it without hands. Sometimes I put the spreader bar on and bind my hands to the headboard so I can feel like—” 

Marc’s arm has stopped moving. His eyes are sharp, burning hot, like iron from the furnace. How voice is quiet but brooks no room for avoiding the question when he asks: “So you can feel like what, baby?” 

“I…I don’t know,” you say. It isn’t a lie, either. You aren’t sure where the sentence was heading, and so much about your relationship with being submissive eludes you when you try to put it into words. You chew on the inside of your cheek while you think, and Marc is utterly quiet and still while you contemplate. “Like…like I’m suffering for somebody. Like my pleasure belongs to somebody else. Whoever tied me up. I don’t know.” 

Marc nods a little, quiet for a moment himself. “From now on, it belongs to me, yeah? Even if you’re the one tying yourself up—you’ll be doing it because I tell you to, alright? And you’ll be doing it safely. It’s dangerous to tie yourself up when you’re alone. That’s not like my good girl. I don’t want to hear you doing that again.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper. You kneel on the floor, bed too covered in toys to lay on. You rest your head against the edge of the mattress, adjusting the phone so that he can still see your face. 

“I’ll forgive you when I hear that you won’t do it anymore,” he says. His hand is moving again. Maybe he is jerking off. “Promise me.” 

“I won’t tie myself up when I’m alone. I promise.” 

Marc lets out a breath, a literal sigh of relief. His eyes go squinty as he smiles, pride evident in the curve of his lips. “There’s my good girl.” 

You groan again, turning to bury your face in the mattress. 

“Are you on the floor right now?” he laughs. 

You groan in an affirmative. 

“Kneeling for me?” 

You hadn’t intended it that way, but now that he says it, you realize that you are. You nod your head, face still hidden. 

“Thighs apart?”

You peek an eye at him and hope he can tell that you’re scowling. Determined to follow his rules (even if your sex positively aches between your thighs) you shift your legs apart. 

“You make me feel so powerful,” he says, voice a little shaky. His eyes are looking just off screen, like he can’t make eye-contact with you right now. “Kneeling for me, following my orders. So powerful. But so, so small. You know that? Because you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. And I like it.” 

“I like it too,” you murmur, head a little foggy. 

“Why?” 

“It feels real safe,” you admit. “Like you’ll take care of me. Like you’d never have me do something that might hurt me or embarrass myself.” 

“I wouldn’t, baby, I swear I wouldn’t,” he says. Then he sighs. “You’re driving me fucking crazy. I’m jerking off twice a day just to function.” 

“Marc,” you say, your voice literally shaking. “Are you—right now?” 

He hums and lets his arm grow bolder. The motion is unmistakable now. Marc Spector is masturbating on the phone with you—because of you. The knowledge is like an electric zap that you feel from your head to your toes. Is his dick out? Does he have a hand beneath his sweats? All of this is too much; your own hand falls between your thighs. 

“At-at,” says Marc. His shoulder stops moving. “No touching yourself.” 

“What?” you whine. “That’s not fair!” 

“I stopped too!” 

“You’ve been jerking off for twenty minutes though, you owe me!” 

“That’s not how this works,” he laughs. “Not to mention, there isn’t a chance in hell you’d last twenty minutes even if I did let you touch yourself. No—we’re going to wait.” 

“Til when?” 

“Spring. The first time I hear you cum, it’s going to be with my fingers tucked inside you. I want to kiss you and swallow every sound.” 

“Then can we hang up?” you ask, shifting on your knees. “I need to touch myself.” 

“Use your cute little vibrator,” he murmurs. You both hang up. 

He’s right. There’s no way you could have lasted twenty minutes when you barely make it to two. 

Spring is never going to come. 

*

Except it does. Of course it does. There is still the occasional snowstorm, but they are irregular enough that you are no longer needed. You book a flight back home, and send Marc a screenshot of your ticket. 

I’ll pick you up. 

The thought makes your belly flip with nerves. You decide that as eager as you are to see Marc, you are just as anxious too. You would rather prolong it a fraction more, would rather it took place on more familiar turf (outside your apartment rather than the strange unfamiliar-familiarity of an airport). So instead you tell him to meet you back at your apartment. If he brings some basic groceries, bonus points for him. 

Though planes don’t often make you nervous anymore, you find yourself gripping your folded hands so tight that you leave marks from your fingernails. What are you doing, agreeing to have sex with Marc? This could ruin everything: your most valuable friendship. The one person in the world who had stuck beside you through thick and thin, even when you had lost people you thought you’d die without. 

Even more frightening: what if everything goes right? 

Landed, see you soon!! You hope that your exclamation points cover up your anxiety. 

Don’t be nervous, he sends back. Fuck. 

The Uber is the longest of your life, familiar scenery passing by as you leave the airport and enter the city you’ve called home for so many years. The city where you met Marc. The city where you meet him again and again in the spring, like Persephone coming home. It always happens like this too. 

The Uber pulls up to the curb outside your apartment, and Marc is sitting there on the steps. Today is only different because he’s pacing—maybe you aren’t the only one who’s nervous. He’s dressed for spring in just a light jacket, t-shirt, and his jeans. He doesn’t recognize the car when it pulls up, but he recognizes you in the passenger seat. God. His face lights up. Marc goes to the car door and opens it for you, draws you out and into his arms. The first hug he always gives you is bone crushing. He lifts you off the ground and twirls you in his arms before helping you regain your footing. 

“Long time, no see,” he says—like always. 

“Too long,” you say, clinging to him. 

“Uh. Don’t forget your bags,” your Uber driver calls through the open window. 

“I got them,” says Marc. He insists on carrying them inside and up the stairs—nice to see that the elevator is still out of order even after the winter. On the way up, Marc fills you in an the uneventful time he spent popping into your apartment every other day to collect your mail, to dust, to water your plants. 

You wonder if he slept in your bed. If he laid amongst the scent of you and wanted to touch himself, like you had that night you were too drunk to drive home from his place. You hope that he did—you hope that he touched himself. You—

“Bed,” he says, giving you a jumpscare. At the wide-eyed expression on your face, he misunderstands. “Not for sex! Just—your exhausted. That’s what you get for taking such an early flight. You should nap. Then we should get dinner, my treat. Then we should—”

“Talk.” 

“Exactly.” 

At his mention of it, your exhaustion (which you had been adamantly pushing back with nerves and adrenalin) resurfaces. He’s right; you always take the earliest flights you can manage, to get home as soon as possible, and yes you arrive to the airport way too early. You’re a woman with anxiety; it’s a given. But the last thing you want to do right now is part ways with Marc. A part of you believes that if he leaves, then you might chicken out. You might never let him back in…

“Stay?” you ask. 

“For a nap?” he wonders, mouth stretching in a grin that reeks of fondness for you. 

“Sure.” 

“In your bed?”

You swallow past the sudden knot in your throat. Fuck, it feels so real. You’re going to have Marc in your bed tonight—for more than just a nap. You push the thoughts away with violence, feeling the way heat rises in your face at the thought alone. Come on, get it together! The way you’re pining for this guy is ridiculous, like you’re a virgin on her wedding night!

Fuck, but can you help it? 

“Just sleep,” Marc says, interrupting your spiraling. “Then, dinner. Then…we’ll talk.” 

Something inside you relaxes, your shoulders drifting away from where they had been climbing to your ears. Just sleep. You can do that. You’re certainly exhausted enough. A trail of you is formed throughout the apartment: your keys left in the dish by the door, shoes toed off at the shoe-rack, suitcase left haphazardly outside your bedroom door. 

Inside, your room is as pristine as you had left it. The sheets are fresh. You have suddenly never been more tired in your life. Taking the last few steps to your bed—a full, larger than the twin you had suffered on during the winter—you collapse on top of the blankets. Who needs to be underneath them? You’re tired enough to sleep just like this. 

But Marc pulls the blankets and the sheets back, working them free from beneath your body. He tucks you in, and he climbs into the bed on the other side. Peeking one eye open, you see that he is on his side, watching you. He grins when he catches you looking. 

“Sleep tight,” he says sweetly. 

God, you do. 

When you wake up, the shadows have changed on the wall. It is early evening, your sleep schedule properly fucked. Marc has come to spoon you sometime during your sleep, and you relish the feel of his strong arm looped around your waist, his warm chest pressed flush against your back. The both of you had fallen asleep in your jeans and socks, and neither one cared. For a moment, you let yourself lay there, enjoying the intimacy. It’s easy to pretend you are lovers when he holds you like this. 

Then his nose brushes a line up the side of your neck and his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers: “Sleep good?” 

“Holy shit, I didn’t know you were awake.” 

He snickers, unapologetic. 

“Yes,” you say, twisting in his arms. “I slept great. But now I’m starv—...ing.” 

As soon as you had turned in his arms, Marc’s eyes had gone molten. Outside, a car alarm goes off. There are horns honking. Someone plays music, but it doesn’t matter. Inside you room, the only sound is the heaving of near-silent breaths as you both lean precariously over the ledge of friendship—whatever rests below, who knows!

“I’m hungry too,” he says, innuendo in his words. His hand on your back traces a line down to the curve of your hip and then up to your ribs. His thumb barely brushes the space beneath your bra. He whispers your name. 

He kisses you, a soft press of lips on lips. Again, heads tilted a little differently. Again, noses brushing in a way that has him smiling against your mouth. You part for a single heartbeat before he is leaning back in and kissing you deeper, tasting the seam of your lips with his tongue. Eager, you part your mouth and let him in. Fuck the uncomfortable angle of your neck—you’re kissing Marc Spector. 

And God, what a kiss it is. He explores you in a way you hadn’t been explored before. Oh yes, you’d been plundered: had men whose tongues were like their cocks, thrusting away at your mouth, no finesse, no savoring of the moment. Marc kisses you like this is the first and last time he might get to. He traces the line of your teeth with his tongue. He softly nips your bottom lip. He coaxes your tongue into his mouth just to suck at it sweetly. Never have you felt so worshiped from a single kiss—nor so aroused. 

Your hips rock against him, finding that he is already erect. You manage to loop one leg around his waist before he breaks the kiss, laughing breathlessly. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he teases. 

“Aren’t we—?” you blink. 

“I said dinner first.” 

“But I’m hungry,” you remind him, arching your back to drag your sex over his hard cock. You’ll never forget the sight of his eyes rolling back, his mouth going a little slack as he takes a shuddering breath. 

He rolls you over and straddles your hips, hands finding your wrists and pinning you to the bed. His cock tents the seam of his jeans. Like this, you suddenly feel so small. Something inside you gets small and soft and says, ‘Be good for him. Do as he wants.’ You have long come to terms with the instincts inside you that make you crave this, knowing that they do not make you less of a modern woman but God, it’s still so embarrassing how easily you want to fold!

You argue instead, arching up to rub yourself against him, a spark in your eyes. A challenge. Marc’s own eyes narrow. He kneels up off of one of your legs, gripping your thigh to push it up-and-out, spreading you open for him, and God for a moment you think that you’ve convinced him, swayed him with just a wiggle of your hips, and the coming satisfaction will be (almost) as strong as your disappointment. 

Instead, he brings his hand down on your pussy in a spank. You yelp. Muffled as it was through the denim, you could still feel the strength in his hand, and you are sensitive enough that it leaves you with a brief, stinging ache. He cups your sex with his palm, soothing it with the warmth of his hand. 

“Dinner first. Where’s my good girl at? The girl who fell to her knees a thousand miles away without me even having to ask her, huh?”

You’d cover your face, if your hands were free. Suddenly you are shy and embarrassed at your own behavior. You don’t even allow yourself to rub up against his touch, light though it may be. Looking at him through your lashes, you say: “I’m sorry, I just…” 

“You need it,” he says, thumb smoothing along the sensitive stretch of your inner thigh. “I understand, baby. Was I harsh?” 

“No.” 

“No, what?”

“No sir,” you whisper shyly. 

His grin is broad, beatific. It turns teasing almost right away. He leans down and brushes his nose against yours before releasing your wrists and rolling off of you. 

“I want to be just friends for just a while longer,” he admits in a whisper. “Throughout dinner. There’s something important I need to tell you.” 

[gavisuntiedboot]

Familiarity

A/N: guys sometimes I just have ideas that MUST be shared with the class

Okay guys I'm going to paint a picture for you all and I need you to stay with me

It's summer break in those two weeks where the boys actually have free time right

And it's after a really spectacular 23-24 season (please Lord my knees are bruised from begging)

Because of how close everyone has gotten, the pretty boys (aka Gavi, Pedri, Ferran, Fermin, Joao, etc) all are vacationing together for a couple of days

Because ya know

Hot single champions league winners (Lord I'm looking at you again)

They're just ready to have a good time being hot and young

As Ariana said, it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful

So they go to Ibiza (ofc)

And they're just out just making the lives of the PR team hell

Shirtless pics on the Insta story every day

Yacht, club, another club, another club, pass out in a luxury hotel

Wake up and repeat

And one night they go to ushuaia

That club that everyone and their mothers went to this year

Gavi, Ferran, George Russel, Daniel Ricciardo

Just really expensive and hip and fun place to listen to music and get turnt

But ofc they're not like paying entry to get in

Oh no, they've been invited as part of an event with, as Pedri so eloquently put, some magazine

Did they care who was paying for their liquor? Absolutely not

So they're all there in pressed shirts with the top two buttons undone (whores)

And having a great time watching girls fall over themselves to come talk to them or get a spot at their table

And then Gavi, trying to remedy the onset of his social anxiety, looks over to the next table and sees you sitting there looking like a slice of heaven

Short black Mugler dress (you know the one with all the see-through paneling? Yeah.)

Heels giving your legs a sculpt and your ass a lift that was borderline illegal in his opinion

And you were just leaned over the table sipping on your drink and swaying by yourself to the music

So Pablito decides that, since you're already in the VIP section, he really can only fall upwards by flirting with you a bit

At least it would be better than whatever Tiktoker Pedri pulled

So he walks over and introduces himself, pushing his glasses further back on his head so you could get a proper look at his face

And our boy is charming and cute and you're ready to have a good time in Ibiza, so you reciprocate

And y'all are just talking and laughing it up and he already has your number to "see you again"

But you're starting to think the "again" is going to be 60 minutes from now in his hotel suite

So now you're both on the same side of the table, his arm is around your waist, fingers dangerously close to your ass

And every time you want to say something, you're getting closer than necessary to his neck and ear and just letting your lips "accidentally" brush across.

And then the rest of F.C. Pretty Boy walks over to interrupt the moment because of course they had to

Professor Pedri had reminded the gang "hot girls have hot friends"

And now Gavi, who was playing with the exposed skin of your thigh, was introducing you to the other wildly famous teammates.

And that's when it happened

It was surprisingly Fermin who finally said "you look really familiar"

And that's when 5 pairs of eyes started to examine you more intensely

Pedri agreed, unable to place you

Gavi knew he had seen you on Instagram before, but didn't want to come across as weird

Ferran was the bravest, asking the question that the others were thinking

"Are you a model?"

"Um, yeah, I guess I'm a model."

The redness in your cheeks and the giggle at the end of the statement had all their eyebrows raised.

"So you're an Instagram model then?" Gavi followed up

"Careful, that's Pedri's type"

The resounding laughter almost drowned out the speakers

"No, I do print as well. I work with brands and stuff but I'm mainly a shoot model. You know, magazines and stuff."

They boys all sent praises your way, exclaiming how they knew you were too hot for just Instagram.

"Pedri here is also a model. His friends over at Men's Health got us in." Gavi smiled widely with his attempt to embarrass his older friend

"Oh, I saw that cover! All of my friends sent it in the groupchat."

Wolf whistles for Pedri and palpable jealously across the group. The other four made mental notes to get a camera and some baby oil asap.

"And what about you, Gavi? When are we going to see you on the cover?"

"Ah, maybe if they get us into another event with you, I'll consider it."

You laughed louder than the generic line deserved, but you were ready to fall to the floor chuckling and snorting to go home with this boy.

"Ah, that might be possible actually. Men's Health is owned by Hearst, and they just bought our magazine. They actually invited me and the girls out tonight."

"Wait, which magazine?" You had been staring at Gavi and didn't place who asked the question

"Um, a men's magazine, you might have heard of it. Do you guys know Playboy?"

Everyone went silent all at once at the realization

So that's why you looked so familiar

"I'd offer you all free subscriptions but it looks like you guys are already avid readers." Your teasing made all of them go red in the ears.

"Is Gavi even old enough to buy a Playboy?"

Despite being a valid question from Fermin, he received a smack on the arm as a response.

"Wait, you also did a campaign for that lingerie brand right? The Rihanna one?" Gavi asked, face brighter than the red lights at the club

"Yeah, back in December! I wore their 'Naughty' line."

Gavi then went off in a tangent, explaining that's where he knew you from (and that maybe he followed the Playboy instagram on his private account)

As the two of you walked off, there was still a tension between the other four

"So..." It was Joao that started

"You guys are jerking off with magazines like we're in the 80s?"

"Hey! Playboy also have a porn channel!" Pedri responded angrily before taking in what he had said.

"So you've been watching her in action and didn't recognize..."

"Okay listen I'm not usually looking at her face!"

Ferran slumped against the table

"All of us out and Gavi picks up a fucking pornstar. He lost his virginity last week and now he's going to fuck a Playboy bunny."

"Guys, did you not hear the part where she said she was here with other girls?" Fermin reminded the group

In conclusion, I would give anything to lock these five in the Playboy mansion for a day. The end.

[catofthecanals289]

NicoJack drabble

“So, any nice girls in Michigan?” Luca asks over the rattling hum of his Ford’s engine.

It’s late, the night thick and heavy between the mountains, the road ahead barely visible beyond the headlights. The radio display doesn’t show the time and Nico doesn’t want to check his phone and the lack of messages, so he can only guess just how close to midnight they really are.

Glancing over at his brother, he finds Luca looking straight ahead through the windshield, focused, but not tense, despite the winding road neither of them know well. The usual road had been blocked, a fallen tree from a storm earlier in the day not yet removed. Luca hadn’t seemed too concerned though so Nico had just sunken further into his seat while trying not to think about the text he was half sure he wouldn’t get an answer to.

“What?” he says belatedly when Luca prompts him again by clearing his throat.

“Just-” Luca sighs, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know, you seem sad.”

Pressing his lips together, Nico shrugs. He doesn’t know what girls would have to do with it, but Luca isn’t wrong. Being back home is going to be great. Nico has missed his family, has missed Switzerland. Sitting at the kitchen table and eating food his bother cooked, looking out the window and seeing the lush green and tall peaks reaching into the blue sky – it’s what Nico has been longing for.

But it turns out the end of missing one thing just means the beginning of missing another.

“I thought maybe you had a girlfriend over there and now-” Luca goes on, and without thinking, Nico shakes his head.

“No,” he says over the sound of some song on low volume that Nico is pretty sure he’s heard before while holding a red plastic cup, drinking awful American beer and trying not to smile too much at the way Jack was moving to the beat of the music. Nico isn’t sure if it could be called dancing. But he’s sure he hadn’t been able to look away. He hadn’t wanted to.  

“No girlfriend.” He looks down at his phone, at the black screen. “The girls were nice. Just-”

Just they were girls.

And they weren’t Jack.

Swallowing, Nico presses the button on the side of his phone, but no notifications show on his home screen. When he tabs open his conversation with Jack it says *read one hour and twenty-six minutes ago*.  Jack has been online thirteen minutes ago according to the grey text next to his little icon.

It’s a picture Nico took of him, right there are the shore of the lake. The sun had been setting and Jack had stood there with his backwards hat on and his bare feet in the cool water and Nico-

“What if there was a boy?” he says, the words out before he’s really truly thought them.

For a moment Luca’s silence is deafening.

Nico can’t let himself breathe, can’t make himself look over. Instead he turns his phone around in his lap, watching the screen go from bright to dim to black. Then-

“A nice Michigan boy?”

“Well, he’s- Yeah,” Nico says on an exhale, swallowing thickly. “He’s in Michigan. But he lived in Toronto before that. And- Yeah.”

And Nico has spent hours listening to Jack talk about it. About Florida where he was born but doesn’t remember, about Boston, about New Hampshire, about the cold winters across the border and how Michigan is home, how he misses his older brother and how much he loves hockey.

And then he’d given Nico that smile that made his chest flutter and he’d rolled onto his back and looked at the clouds passing over the driveway and he’d asked Nico about Luca. About playing together in Visp, about Switzerland, about everything.

What do you like most about America so far?, he’d asked a sweet little grin on his face, and Nico thinks the answer might have been obvious on his face even if he hadn’t said the You that’d been on the tip of his tongue.

“Were you guys boyfriends?” Luca asks now and with a lump in his throat, Nico has to shrug.

“I don’t know,” he says softly.

Luca seems to have heard him anyway.

 “Ah, Nico,” he says after a short moment of simple squinting at the dark road ahead of them. “I’m sorry.”

It’s fine, Nico wants to say. It doesn’t matter.

Because it doesn’t. Nico is back home in Switzerland and Jack is in Michigan and whatever happened in those six months that Nico spent over there, it’ll just be a memory now. It’ll just be what Nico thinks about whenever someone asks him about his first kiss, about his first time, about his first time being in love.

His first heartbreak too, it seems like.

“He says he’s not gay,” he says, voice cracking over the last word. He wishes his lips weren’t trembling as he speaks. “That he doesn’t like boys that way.”

“But you do?” Luca asks.

No pause this time, no silence.

When Nico glances at him, Luca is still looking at the road.

“Yeah,” he whispers and Luca doesn’t say anything, but he reaches over, putting his hand on Nico’s shoulder.

[roadkillremi]

I have this idea for uncle!Randy where Martha is cleaning out the attic and she finds old video tapes that Randy and reader made from 1996 and Mindy and Chad really wanna watch them to see what the pair were like back in the day !!! <333

In love with this idea!

Lost in the '90s

Randy Meeks X F!Reader

Warnings : Language, Mentions a knife and a gun mentions Woodsboro Murders.

MasterList

Summary : The ask above! During Readers highschool years Randy gifted her a camcorder. So she started recording videos of everyone. (This is a part of the Uncle Randy AU )

Reader and Randy are not in this but are heavily mentioned throughout.

Mindy climbed up the attic ladder, "Mom we're out of Milk. What are you doing?" She looked around the attic at the dusty boxes. Martha sighed and pushed boxes aside, "I'm just looking for our Halloween decorations but find everything else.". Mindy walked towards her mom, "Like what?".

"Well there's some old scrap books. I found Randy's college stuff.". She said as she looked through the boxes. Mindy grabbed a box with Randy's name scribbled all over it.

"Randys protective of those so be careful. I don't wanna get a call from Hollywood." Martha joked. Mindy smiled and opened it, "It's video tapes...". Martha looked over, "Your Aunt would carry around a video camera everywhere.". Mindy dug through the box lightly pulling out the camcorder.

"Is this it?" She asked. Martha smiled to herself, "Yeah.". Mindy held it and flipped the side open.

"Is it okay if I watch the tapes." Mindy asked looking down at the box. Martha nodded, "Yeah just be careful. That's before the Woodsboro Murders. I think she filmed in college a bit.". Mindy nodded and grabbed the box, "Chad! Come get this so I can climb down!". Chad appeared at the end of the ladder, "What?". Mindy tried to pass him the box, "It's tapes from Uncle Randy and Aunt Y/N.". Chad grabbed the box and looked in, "No way.". Mindy climbed down and took the box from him.

"I'm gonna connect it to the TV, wanna join?" Mindy asked as she walked towards the living room. Chad followed, "Sure why not?".

Mindy connected an old tape player to the TV. Chad looked through the tapes, "Good thing mom kept that.". Mindy sat on the couch, "Yeah. Found one to put in?".

"This one's their Junior year.." Chad held it up.

"When did they start dating?" Mindy asked, grabbed some tapes. Chad sighed, "Uh, I think around their sophomore year.". Mindy put her hands on her face, "Right! They met freshmen year and uhhh.. so I guess the junior tape.". Chad nodded putting the tape in the player. He pressed the play button before sitting back.

The screen went white and then blue. It focused on the road in front of your old house.

"Here he comes!" You say excitedly. A car pulled up and the window rolled down. Randy smiled, "Get in if you wish to live" he said in a horrible impression. The camera picture fumbled as you walked towards the car. You got in and closed the door, "Did you have to bring the camera?" Randy asked with a smile. You lightly laugh, "I'm just filming for the future.". Randy shook his head, "That's how every bootleg horror movie starts.".

"Whatever! Anyway look at you!! I can't believe you can drive now!" It zoomed in on Randy's face, he lightly pushed it away.

"When I said I wanna make films I didn't mean I wanna be in them." He said starting to drive away. It flashed to a different video, the video refocused. Mindy grabbed the remote pausing it, "Is that.. Stu Macher?". Chad looked closer, "I mean weren't they all friends at one point?". Mindy nodded, "Wait in 1995... Sidney Prescott's mom died..". Mindy pressed play, Stu ran up to the camera.

"Whatcha filming?".

"Your dumbass!" You joked. Stu stuck his tongue out before Tatum pushed him aside.

"Tatum and Stu are finally together! Wonder how long that's gonna last!" You joked. Tatum smiled at you, "Whatever. And where's your boy toy?!". You turned the camera towards you, "He is sneaking up behind me.". The camera showed Randy horribly trying to scare you. He stopped in his tracks, "Really?" He smiled. You looked at him, "Yup.". He hugged you from behind giving you a kiss on your cheek. It again switched to a different video. The camera zoomed in on Billy Loomis, he looked at you.

"What are you doing?" He asked softly.

"Making memories! Come on show 'em your playboy smile!" You joked at him. Billy shook his head, Stu wrapped his arms around him.

"He's camera shy". Billy looked up at Stu and rolled his eyes. Tatum walked in the living room holding a bunch of beers. She placed them on the coffee table.

"Where's Randall?" Tatum asked looking at you. You zoomed out on Billy's face and moved it to Tatum's.

"He's using the bathroom." You defended. Tatum nodded, "Well I'm not waiting to watch this new movie.". Sidney walked in with a bag of popcorn, you turned the camera towards her. She took a bite of popcorn and gave a little smile. Randy trotted into the living room.

"I'm here!" Randy sat beside you and jokingly stared into the camera. Stu plopped on the couch, "What's the movie called?". Randy got up to put the movie in, "Candyman".

Later that same night Tatum got the Camera. She pointed it towards you and Randy. Randy leaned against you as you watched the movie. You gently messed with his hair, the camera zoomed in on you two.

"Aww. Look at you two!" Tatum interrupted. You looked towards her, "Really?". Randy flipped the camera off, Tatum scoffed.

"Come on. I'm just trying to help you film your memories!". You gave her a look, "You had too much to drink.".

"And you haven't drank anything!" She fussed. You rolled your eyes, "Randy's drinking for me.". Randy lazily held up his bottle and leaned his head back on your chest. The video cut to Stu holding it lazily showing his feet. The camera panned up to Tatum, "I swear I saw them making out!" Stu complained. Tatum rolled her eyes, "Leave her camera alone!".

"I'm just gonna get it on video for them!" He joked while walking towards the living room. It must've been a Halloween party as there were kids in costumes. Stu opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs. You had your arms wrapped around Randy. He leaned into you tightly holding your hips.

"I caught you!" Stu shouted. Randy jumped, "Really man?". You took the camera pointing it at Stu.

"You're such a dumbass-" you muttered before walking away. The video was cut to a funeral, all you could see was a coffin and head stone. To the side was Sidney crying as the coffin lowered. Billy was beside her with his hand on her shoulder. It was cut to later that day during the lunch the funeral home held. Assuming Randy was holding the camera, it showed you looking off to the distance.

"If you could tell Mrs.Priscott one last thing what would it be?" Randy asked. You looked at the camera then at Randy.

"Uh, I'd say thank you. She was always like a mom to me. She knew I had problems at home and she let me stay over. " You gently smiled, Randy panned the camera over to Tatum.

"What about you?". Tatum looked at Sidney who was over by her dad. She sighed, "I'd just want her to give Sidney one last goodbye.". Randy then panned it over to Stu who was looking at Tatum.

"I never met her. But I bet she was cool." Stu said. The camera fumbled from you snatching it, "No more stealing my camera, Meeks. Got it?".

The video ended.

Mindy grabbed the one labeled, 1996. She handed it to Chad, "Do you think she caught any of the murders?". Chad shrugged, "Not sure.". It put the tape in and pressed play.

"It's senior year!" Tatum yelled into the camera. Billy gave her a look, "Don't be so sour, Billy." You joked. Stu took the camera from you, "Say hi!". You crossed your arms, "You're an asshole.".

"Where's Randy?" Tatum asked as she pulled out her lunch. You shrugged, "He said he'd be here any minute.". Stu zoomed in on Randy in the distance holding a McDonald's bag. Randy glared at Stu, "I got you some lunch.". He handed you the bag, you excitedly took it.

"Thank you!"

"See! Aren't you glad I took the camera!" Stu joked.

"Count your days wisely, Macher." You said pulling out a cheese burger. The video cut to a Shakey shot of the mall. It showed Tatum looking at a pair of shoes before looking at the camera.

"Gosh, again with that camera?"

"Yes, I gotta capture your essence before you become a super model.". You say lightly. Tatum gave you a grin, "Come on strike a pose!" You encouraged. She did a model pose before laughing a bit. Sidney smiled at her, "What about you Sidney? What are your plans?". She shrugged, "Not sure.". Tatum put her hands on her hips, "Is this your way of stalling for not picking out a home coming dress?".

"You know me so well." You joked. It cut to later that day with you holding the camera.

"Show us the dress!" You and Sidney cheered. Tatum walked out of the dressing room in a red sparkly dress that hugged her figure.

"You look great." Sidney said.

"I agree! Now it's your turn, Sid!" You pointed the camera towards her. She shook her head, "I don't think I'm going...". Tatum looked at her sadly, "Well can you at least put the dress on for fun?". Sidney sighed, "Sure!". Sidney carried a dress into the stall and changed into it. The camera again cut to a different video. It panned over to you and Randy all dressed up for homecoming. Randy's mom took photos on her camera.

"Randy smile more, Honey." His mom said. Randy smiled wider, his face pink from embarrassment. Randy looked over at the camera, "Martha!* He yelled. Martha is heard laughing, you look over and smile. The camera is cut to Stus living room, You're walking in on a party.

"Is that?-" Chad asks softly. Mindy's eyes widen, "It's the night of the murders.".

The camera showed Randy on the couch watching the movie. Stu looked up from the other couch, "Y/N! You made it!". Randy looked up excitedly, you sat on the couch by Randy. The camera cut again to Randy, he's standing in front of the TV.

"And never never say I'll be right back-"

"Imma get a beer want one?"

"Yeah sure."

"I'll be right back!" Stu yelled. The camera cut again to Gale picking it up. She fumbled with it before turning it around. She silently peaked in the kitchen, the camera pointed in. It showed Billy holding a knife at Sidney. To the right it showed Stu pointed a gun at you. The video tape turned off. The screen turned a bright blue, all Mindy saw was her own reflection in the TV.

[rinsuniverse]

I recently saw that your reqs are open 👀 can we get woozi's s/o helping in writing or producing a song from the universe factory evn tho she isn't in the entertainment bizzz just like a pure inspiration for her to help write songs hihi

being woozi's muse! ✧˖°.

this is a cute idea! (sorry if this is short! i'm currently writing this on break <3)

i imagine three different types of scenarios where his s/o would help in writing or producing music

for the first, imagine you're lounging on his couch at the universe factory

he's been working on his music for hours on end now, and his brain is slowly malfunctioning

you can tell just by how he's sighing and tilting his head in frustration that he needs a break or some help

so you come over, running a hand down his shoulder and peering in at his monitor

"you okay?" you ask, leaning your head against his

he takes a minute to relax into your touch, but does so nonetheless

"nothing sounds right for this part of the song," he says, frustratingly

"do you want my help?"

"are you going to spoil the song?"

"why would i do that?"

"true. just take a look at it, i guess," he says as he backs his chair up from the desk

you sit there, asking him to hum the melody and match up the lyrics

you suggest switching the order of some lines for the lore and sound

and he nods with his eyes somewhat wide, surprised at your helpful feedback

"there! i think it sounds much better now," you say, turning to look at him

he nods, rolling his chair closer to the table. "thanks, y/n/n"

"mmm. if you need more inspiration or help, just call me over."

"god, i love you," he mutters, grabbing hold of your hand and squeezing it

"love you, too. don't overwork yourself!"

the second scenario would be when you're both out on a walk, just goofing around town after a planned date

"oh my god, jihoon! look at this kitty!" you say, pointing at the stray kitten on the side of the walkway

the sun is setting and he watches you as your eyes twinkle and the golden hour sun rays hit you just right

you smile at him so genuinely and he's looking at you like you're the most beautiful person in the world (he would never say that out loud to you, tho)

as you're talking quietly to the cat and approaching slowly, he can't help but pull out his phone and take a picture

he switches to the notes app, changing his attention from you to the phone, then back to you, then back to the phone as he writes lyrics about how your eyes have so many feelings behind them and how he can't find all the words he'd want to describe you with

you're his muse in that way

he feels inspired when he sees your genuine and pure self/the person he fell in love with

you won't know, but the next seventeen album is going to have a b-side by the vocal team that was completely inspired by that one day that he fell in love with you all over again 🫶

and the last scenario would be when he invites you to help him and the svt members record a new song

it's his turn to record, so he has you and soonyoung pressing the button for him

you're giggling at whatever soonyoung has to say and jihoon stands there awkwardly staring at you two, pursing his lips

"can i record now or what?" he asks, staring daggers at soonyoung

"yep! y/n, music please!" soonyoung says, causing you to giggle

jihoon finds himself clenching his jaw, but as soon as the music starts playing in his headphones, he tries his absolute hardest to impress you

he knows it works when he's done singing the part, and you're just looking at him with a cute grin on your face

"are we done with my part now?"

"yeah-"

"get out of my seat, soonyoung."

and for the rest of the recording, you sit next to jihoon

one of his hands is holding a pen and presses the buttons while the other is resting on your thigh

you give him and the members feedback about what you feel (as a carat) would sound the best and make the fanbase go literally insane

and jihoon is so grateful for all your help and everything

he knows you aren't really in the entertainment business and you're just giving your feedback as his s/o and a fan of the group

but guess what?

you find your name right next to his in the credits of some of the songs in the album anyway!

thank you so much for the request! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it! feel free to request many, many more! ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

[infernalodie]

Bank Robber M!R spending his possibility last night with Cassie and she finds out the next day what he’s been up to these past few months

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 || 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯' 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯' 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯' 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦"

Inspo: Jeremy Zucker - full stop

Pairing: Cassie Howard x Black!Male!reader

Summary: If it be your last night with her, you would use it to your fullest...

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and even more angst

Words: 2320

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

Cassie was sitting on her window sill, staring out at the empty street out front of her house. Legs were tucked into her chest as she awaited another long and hopeless night. She didn’t know why she decided to continue to wait here. Maybe it was the pitiful hope that you may come to her after so long of being gone. Or maybe she just wanted to stay up at night and watch the stars like the two of you always did when you were in town. But your visits had become lesser and lesser after the last.

You weren’t home as much as you used to. All Cassie knew was that your job required you to go away sometimes and be away. Of course, Cassie understood it but never knew more than what you drip-fed her. Giving her tiny pieces of info about what you did, which wasn’t enough for her to get the full picture of your lifestyle. What she did know is that you travelled, a lot, you made enough money to keep paying your rent at your apartment whilst you were away, and you could buy her things that doubled anything Nate had ever gotten her. Offering her to stay at your place rent-free and her phone bill. It was a lot for one guy who freshly graduated, but Cassie is just guessing you worked construction.

So, the time she got with you was very little as of late. Leading to her staying up and sitting by her window sill waiting for you to just pop up out of thin air and hold her. And hopefully have you with her in the morning.

The buzzing of her phone drew her attention. Her eyes lazily flowed from the window to her phone. In an instant, her eyes shot wide her hands scrambled at the phone. Knowing your phone number like the back of her hand, she pressed the green button and pressed the device to her ear, lips etched into an excited grin. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” you breathed, a smile able to be heard in your voice. Cassie pulled her legs closer to her chest, resetting her chin on her right knee as she stared out the window. She doesn’t know how long it’s been since she’d last heard your voice. But she didn’t realize how nice it was to hear it. “I just wanted to check in. See if you were still awake.”

“I was waiting for you,” Cassie replied. Standing up from the window sill, she moved to the edge of her bed and took a seat. “How’s work been? Everything alright wherever you are?” A deep chuckle filled the other end with a hiss able to be heard a moment later. Cassie’s smile slightly faltered, eyebrows scrunching together as she straightened her posture. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, Cass. I’m good,” you reassured with a deep groan. Your eyes flickered down to the bullet wound in your side. Removing your hand, you took a quick look at the 9mm hole and sighed, returning pressure to the wound. Resting your head against the side of the payphone as you let out a low groan. “Am I able to come over? I need help with something.”

“Y/n, are you okay?” Cassie asked, now standing back to her feet she listened to every little noise that came from the other end of the phone. “Do I need to come and get you? I can if you need-”

“Baby.” Your voice wasn’t firm or annoyed, but somewhat admiring and loving. “I’ll be there in 10, ‘kay? Just… Just keep the front door unlocked. Is your sister home?” When she said no, you sighed in relief. “Ok, grab the med kit in your bathroom and have it by your guys’ couch in your room, yeah?”

Cassie couldn’t help but feel even more worried and confused by what you were not telling her. You weren’t telling her something that might explain what was going on. But that was something regular she should’ve gotten used to when it came to you. Everything about you had to be shrouded in some sheet that hid more of yourself from her. Shame or nervousness; she wasn’t too sure.

“Cassie?”

She shook her head from the thoughts, clearing her throat. “Ok, I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” you told her. “I love you.”

She couldn’t reply before you hung up the phone, leaving the phone to be blank as she dropped it on her bed and did what you asked. Running downstairs and unlocking the door before running back upstairs to grab the medical kit and setting it on her couch. Anxiously preparing for whatever shit storm you were planning on bringing to her home.

When you did show up, Cassie finally understood the purpose of the medical kit was for. Finding the grey shirt you wore to be drenched along the side in blood. An almost grey tinge on your face tells her that you must’ve lost too much blood. Once bright and beautiful ebony skin is now stained red and your complexion greying from the bullet still lodged in your side.

Yet, you wore that charming smile of yours. “Hey, baby.”

“Y/n, w-what the fuck happened?” Cassie breathed, hands covering her mouth as you pushed from the door and toward her. She couldn’t decide what needed more attention, you or the fact you were beginning to bleed on her floor.

Instead of providing her with an answer or just giving her something to work with, you grabbed the medical kit and moved to the bathroom. Placing it on the sink and looking in the mirror. After this, you needed to go. You needed to skip town and never look back until things died down. Then again, maybe they never would. And sadly, your heart was already aching from reality beginning to settle in from what had happened.

Things weren’t to have played out the way that they did. A smash and grab- that’s what they had told you. But why the fuck did things always have to go sideways with you? Why did they make you have to pull the trigger?

Looking past yourself and to Cassie who stood in the doorway with a concerned look, you clenched your jaw. “Can you help me with this?” You mused, lowering your gaze. The blonde licked her lips, stepping behind you and carefully shimming the hem of your shirt up. Feeling the engulfing heat of your skin against the back of her hand, the droplets of sweat, and the blood that touched her ivory skin.

After a painful process of getting the shirt over your head and arms out, it left you leaning against the sink. Hands bracing the porcelain as you scanned the wound. “I’m going to need your help with something,” you announced to the girl. “It’s going to suck for me, but it might be worse for you-”

“Why do you have a gun?” The question made you look over your shoulder. Finding your girlfriend transfixed on the pistol resting along the hem of your pants.

You sighed. “Cassie, I really need your help with this-”

“You don’t get to do this!” Cassie exclaimed, silencing you. “You don’t get to show up at my house after no texts or phone calls for days and no explanation as to where you’ve been, alright? And still, even now, you aren’t telling me the truth, Y/n. What the fuck is going on?”

“Help me with this, and then I’ll tell you.” The sharpness in your tone made the girl’s jaw clench. Staring sharp daggers at you, clear frustration found in those beautiful eyes of hers. It was unfair. You understood that, but things weren’t as simple as Cassie would like them to be. They never would and never will.

Creating some sort of pact for now, Cassie grabbed your arm softly and turned you around. Grabbing the medical supplies as you said, “The bullet is still inside. You’ll have to pull it out.”

“Great! I like how you asked the person who has no experience with this type of thing and is your girlfriend! Smartest fucking idea I have ever heard in my entire fucking life-”

“I have nowhere else to go, Cass!” You told her, silencing her tangent. “You’re all I have left and I need you right now. So, if you can’t do this, then fine. But don’t make me feel like shit more than I already do.”

With pursed lips, Cassie kneeled down in front of you and placed her fingers around the wound. There was a faint sting, but nothing too serious. When she gently spread your skin, trying to make more room for the tiny clamps, that made you groan in pain. But she didn’t say anything. Brows scrunched together in concentration as she gently and slowly pushed the clamps inside whilst you rolled your head back, grunting in pain.

She tried to be as quick and as gentle as possible. But as much as you had experienced wounds before, you’d never had to have someone pull a bullet from your body. So, you were grateful that Cassie wasn’t just jamming the clamps into the wound and wringing it around inside of you.

When she found the bullet and pulled it out, you took the liberty to stitch yourself up. Sitting on the toilet and doing so as Cassie cleaned up the floor and her hands. Scrubbing until her skin was red and ready to break. Although she wasn’t saying much, she was freaking the fuck out. She was on edge. She was sick. She couldn’t think straight with all the jumbled and clouding thoughts in her head. Seeing you bleeding, seeing the gun, the bullet, she needed answers or she might just go insane.

“Explain what the fuck is going on, Y/n,” Cassie breathed, turning off the faucet and bracing her hands along the edge. “I feel like I am going crazy over here while you act like this is nothing new.”

It wasn’t.

Ok, getting shot was new, but you injured and laying low wasn’t. “I am involved in some dangerous shit, Cass,” you confessed, driving the sewing needle through your flesh, biting your bottom lip. Cassie looked away, unable to stomach the sight. “I won’t tell you much because I want to protect you, but I’ve been a criminal since before you left me.”

Cassie frowned, looking over at you cutting the thread and beginning to tie a tiny knot. “What the fuck do you mean you’re a criminal?” She laughed. “You’re an on-the-go worker that…” She trailed over her words, unable to find the correct occupation.

But the longer she mulled over her words and placed two and two together, she was slowly realizing that you hadn’t hidden anything from her. The large margins of time you were gone, the excessive amounts of cash, the secrecy, it all just made sense now. 

Should she be surprised? Angry? Hurt? It was all too much at once for her fragile mind to handle. Your crimson-stained hand gently touched her naked thigh, pulling her gently towards you. “Cass, return to Earth.” Your words made the blonde swallow the lump in her throat, blinking rapidly and finally meeting your warm gaze. “I never wanted you to find out like this. Everything is so fucked up right now and I know you’re trying to process all of this. By tomorrow you don’t want me in your life anymore, then fine. But I just need a place to stay for the night.”

For the first time tonight, Cassie finally was given vulnerability. A chance to have insight as to what is going on in that beautiful head of yours. Finally able to see and feel something that felt real and genuine. Like, the curtains had finally been pulled back and allowing the sun to shine through the window. It felt nice, refreshing, and emotionally rehabilitating.

Cassie blinked rapidly, leaning down as her hands held your face. Brushing her thumbs over your cheeks and jaw, the little bristles of your light stubble. Sliding to the back of your head where she gently toyed with the ends of your corn rows with her eyes tearing up. “As long as you lay with me tonight.” Smiling shakily, Cassie watched as you leaned up and kissed her nose, forehead, and cheeks, and then finally met her lips. It was soft, sweet, and loving. Just like it always has been.

So, was that frightening? Shouldn’t Cassie be the tiniest bit scared of what you’ve done in your past if you were a criminal? Maybe you’d killed people. Or maybe you’d hurt people that may be deserving or non-deserving of it. But for whatever reason, she felt closer to you than she ever has been since the two of you started dating. Shit, maybe since the two of you last saw one another before tonight.

With caution, Cassie helped patch up your wound with a bandage and moved you to her bed. Allowing you to slip under the covers before soon following with her head resting on your chest. Your heartbeat beats like a drum with a methodical rhythm to it. A calming sound to Cassie's ears as she turned her head slightly and kissed your chest. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

A warm hand came down her back and gently rubbed the curve of her spine. Repeating the motion until Cassie was in a sleepy daze, eyes fighting for a chance to hear if you respond or to just stay with you a little longer. Hang onto this moment a tad bit more. But your silence was suffocatingly comfortable and it left Cassie finally relenting and closing her eyes.

“You won’t, baby.”

But you know that wasn’t the truth, judging by the sirens heard in the distance outside.

[beachy--head]

Drabble time! A companion piece to this drabble where Harriet bargains with Jackson to get a pet and ends up with a kitten.

This is for @babyjapril and @himbo-jackson-avery, who always have the best tags and were wondering about Jackson as a cat dad. Ask, and you shall receive! (or something like that.) My brain wouldn't shut up until I wrote this, so here you go.

___

Jackson’s sigh cannot be louder even if he tried.

“Fine, we can adopt a kitten. But!” he adds before his wife and daughter can shriek with joy. “This cat will stay in the garden, he’s not going on any furniture ever, and Hattie, you have to help feed him and clean after him, okay?”

He’s not a cat person (not an animal person at all, actually), and he already envisions a future made of scratched furniture and cat hair on every piece of clothing Hattie owns, but the smiles on Harriet and April’s faces make up for it a little bit.

Still. That cat better not expect anything from him.

__

“Yeah, okay, he’s cute. And Hattie picked a good name with Oliver. But you’ve been cuddling him for the past hour, can you put him back on the ground now?”

“Jealous, Avery?”

“I’m not!”

__

“Why is he following me everywhere? I almost stepped on the damn thing ten times this afternoon.”

“Guess he’s just recognizing your natural leadership."

“Ha-ha-ha. Is this because I brought up the Gunther thing from way back this morning? You don’t have to be a sore– Oh come on, you almost made me fall, you stupid cat!! I swear, this thing has no survival instinct.”

“Leave him alone, will you?”

“Make him leave ME alone!”

__

“Have you noticed that he likes being scratched behind his ears? He makes such a goofy face every time.”

“Uh huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You just seem awfully cozy with him, now.”

“I’m just noticing things. You know, in a scientific approach of my surroundings. It’s no different from observing a patient, actually.”

“Uh-huh.”

__

“Daddy. You have to take good care of Oliver while mommy and me will be in Moline. I made drawings to show you how to do it, and mommy did the words.”

Jackson smiles when he sees the five sheets of instructions created by his daughter (this is 100% April’s DNA, no arguing), and holds his little finger for a pinky-swear. His daughter takes it, looks him in the eye.

“But you DON’T sleep with him in your bed. He’s only allowed to sleep on MY bed, and when I'm not there. Promise. And you have to send me pictures of him.”

“Am I allowed to live in the same house as him, or…?”

“Daaaaddy!”

__

“Yes, Jackson, I showed her the picture where Oliver is eating his food. Yes, I also showed her the picture where he's playing on our bed. Yes, the one with his new collar, too. And the one when he’s yawning. And the one – Did you go into the office at all today?

__

“I think we should go to the vet.”

“It’s a very small puncture wound, Jackson. I’ve disinfected it, and he cleaned it himself, too.”

“But it could lead to an infection.”

“Tomorrow it’ll be like it never happened. Trust me, there were so many cats on the farm who kept fighting with each other, having bites and marks way worse than this one, and we patched them up ourselves every single time.”

“But just in case…?”

“He’s going to be fine, Jackson.”

“I know, I know. Of course, we could ask,” he squints at his phone’s screen, “Dr. Davis for her input, it says here she’s specialized in felines and her clinic offers complementary training in–”

“Jackson, if you press dial on that button, I swear to God I’m telling Hattie the damn cat has been sleeping in our bed for the past week.”

[tooneys-russo]

I Write Songs About You All The Time

Summary: Wren is the lead singer of a band who happens to serenade Alessia leading to a fun night between the two.

Warning: Smut 18+

Previous Parts: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Alessia woke up with two arms wrapped around her body, a girl was pressed against her back breathing softly against Alessia’s back. Suddenly the last night came rushing into her mind, the girl and the concert, then of course the hotel room. She looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings not remembering how nice the room actually was. There was a view of the city in front of her, she slowly got up and found her clothes scattered around the room. “Hey, where are you going?” Alessia heard a sleepy voice from the bed, she turned and saw Wren sitting up, no shirt on and the sheets covering from her waist down. “Was thinking we could get breakfast or something?” Wren offered and Alessia blushed. “I have training soon, maybe dinner?” Alessia pulled her pants on and her bra as she walked over to Wren. “Yeah I can do dinner.” Wren pulled Alessia back onto the bed and kissed her. “I need your number though babe.” Wren handed Alessia her phone and she put her number in with her name and a love heart as contact name. “Guess I will see you tonight then gorgeous.” Alessia nodded and kissed Wren again before leaving. 

As soon as Alessia arrived at training all the girls began asking her about her night. Alessia gave them a quick run down of their conversation in the club and then what happened afterwards. “Holy shit you got with Wren! Fuck yes Alessia!” Katie said and grabbed Alessia in a headlock, she laughed along with her teammates. Wren spent the day relaxing and writing some songs, she sent a text to the blonde around lunch time. ‘Hey gorgeous, what is your address? I will come and pick you up tonight at 6.’ Alessia smiled wide when the text came through. ‘I live at 21 Thatcher Road. See you tonight x’ Wren smirked and began getting ready. She put on a black suit with a black button up shirt with her black converse, she checked how she looked multiple times as she headed out to the car she had hired. Wren pulled up to the house holding some flowers she picked up on the way, as she knocked on the door Alessia opened up and Wren’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She was wearing a red dress that hugged her perfectly, Wren’s eyes raked over every inch of the blonde in front of her. “Wow.” She said as their eyes met. “This okay?” Alessia asked nervously and Wren nodded quickly. “Yes. You are perfection.” Wren looked at the flowers and held them out for Alessia. “These are for you, I had no idea what type you would like. So I just went with roses.” Alessia took them and kissed Wren’s cheek. “They are perfect. I will just put them in a vase then we can go.” Alessia turned and walked inside her house. “You coming?” She said to Wren who was waiting outside who quickly followed inside like a puppy. The house was very clean with family pictures up, Wren looked at how close and happy Alessia’s family looked at it was something that she was envious of. 

As they left the house Wren rushed to the car to open the door for Alessia, she was thanked with a kiss from the blonde. She drove more carefully than she would in the car by herself, the two chatted music and football. Wren picked an Italian restaurant that she knew was good, she became slightly nervous when Alessia mentioned her Italian heritage. Wren pulled out Alessia’s chair and sat down across from her. “How was training?” Wren asked after ordering them some wine. “Oh it was fine, we worked on a few set plays, looking at my movements into the 18 yard box.” Alessia smiled as she went through her training. Their conversation flowed easily, Wren was captivated by the blonde in front of her. She was shocked at how eloquent and articulate she was. At the end of dinner Wren drove Alessia back to her house and walked her to her door. Wren was slightly tipsy but was able to cover it up, she pulled Alessia close and kissed her deeply. Alessia moaned against her mouth and gripped onto Wren’s shirt, their kiss became more desperate as Alessia felt her door against her back.

Alessia fumbled with her keys trying to unlock the door as Wren kissed her, they almost fell through the door. Wren lifted Alessia easily and kicked the door closed behind her. “Where is your bedroom princess?” Wren’s voice was low and full of desire. “Second door on the left.” Alessia almost moaned, Wren laid Alessia down and kissed her neck as she took off her own shirt. Alessia’s fingers ran down Wren’s breasts down to her abs then to her pants, she undid the button and pushed them down as far as she could. “I want those off.” Alessia demanded. “Of course. Anything for you.” Wren pushed her pants off the rest of the way and threw them on the ground. Alessia’s hands explored Wren’s body as Wren pushed the blonde’s dress up, revealing her red g-string. “Perfection.” Wren moaned into Alessia’s ear as she discarded her g-string somewhere in the room. Her finger circled her clit and Alessia replied by sliding her hand into Wren’s briefs. “Fuck Less.” Wren moaned and bit down on Alessia’s neck. They teased each other, marking each other’s skin. Wren pulled Alessia’s dress over her head and removed her bra, she marked Alessia’s breasts and sucked on her nipple making the blonde dig her nails into the singer’s back. Wren slid two fingers inside Alessia, the girl gasped as it stretched her. “O-oh Wren yes.” Alessia moaned out as Wren found a rhythm that had Alessia leg’s shaking. The striker wanted to make sure that Wren was feeling the exact same sensation that she was, wanting to come together. Alessia circled Wren’s clit for a moment before entering her with two fingers. Wren kissed Alessia deeply as their thrusts matched each other, their bodies moved in perfect sync. The room filled with their moans until they both felt their orgasms together. Once they came down from their high Wren laid next to Alessia and smirked. “Who would have thought that such a sweet innocent girl could do that.” Alessia cuddled into Wren’s side and whispered in her ear. “Now who said I was innocent?” Wren smiled and held Alessia close to her, her fingers ran up and down her back and soon Alessia was passed out breathing softly against Wren’s chest. 

Wren woke up the next morning cuddling the blonde in her arms. She kissed her shoulder gently as Alessia began to wake up. “Hey gorgeous.” Wren said softly as Alessia turned to her, the girl’s bright blue eyes starting into Wren’s. Alessia kissed Wren gently and cuddled back into her. “Want to go for a walk?” Alessia just nodded against Wren’s skin. “Come on lets go shower.” Wren got up and Alessia followed sleepily, not saying a word. The singer ran the water and ensured it was the right temperature, she washed Alessia’s hair and body making sure to give her kisses when she could. There were hickeys all over their chest and neck, Wren smirked knowing that she had made them all over the girl. Once they were finished Alessia pulled on a hoodie, ripped jeans and some Adidas trainers. “You can wear some of my clothes.” Wren walked over to the closet and grabbed out a hoodie, some jeans that were too long so she had to roll them up then her black converse. “You look so cute.” Alessia smiled wide and Wren pouted as the blonde kissed her. “I’m not cute.” She mumbled as they walked out of the house. 

They chatted as they walked to a local cafe, Wren held Alessia’s hand and kissed it as she got their coffee. They had only been on their walk for about 30 minutes before their phone were buzzing from notifications that the media had gotten hold of pictures of them together. Wren checked her phone and groaned, “Shit we got caught.” Alessia looked over at Wren. “Caught? You're upset we were spotted together?” Alessia dropped Wren’s hand. “I was just hoping we would have a bit of privacy, I mean we have only been on one date. Would rather get closer to you before we were you know…known.” Alessia nodded and held Wren’s hand. I mean it had only been two nights. “I have a game tomorrow.” Alessia said softly. “You should come.” Wren checked her phone. “Yeah I can make it, I have to head to London the next day ready for my next show. But I am down to watch you destroy bitches.” Alessia laughed and shoved Wren gently.

[lvrsparadise]

Omg, we need a part two of Blind with Chris, it was so good

'WILL YOU?' (II) - C.S

| 'BLIND' |

Synopsis - After his return, feelings are confessed, and dates are made.

Warnings! - Y/N and Chris being lil cutie patooties, profanity, like one kiss, fluff, a small argument between Y/N and Chris, I think that's all.

A/N - PT2 is here!! Also, thank you guys so much for over 100 followers, y'all are going to make me crazy. Hope you guys enjoy !!

It's been a week since the guys flew back to LA. I stayed at their place for a few days after their return but currently, I'm back in my own apartment.

I haven't gotten any texts from Chris containing anything about the little hearts/notes I left in his room. Thankfully. I don't really know what my goal was when I did it, but I guess it makes a little bit of sense.

A text notification from my phone rips me from my thoughts. I pick it up and it's a text from Chris. I open it, and there's a picture of him holding one of the smaller hearts next to his face, with a smile.

Chris: you leave this? or was it left intentionally??? Me: You'll never know. :) Chris: Oh come on, that's not fair and you know it. Me: Nope. You have to figure it out by yourself. ;) Chris: is there more??? Me: many.

I chuckle at my phone, picturing his reaction. Probably a groan with an eye roll. I set my phone down and focus on the episode of The Amazing World of Gumball that's currently playing.

----

Many hours later I get another text from Chris.

Chris: I've found 22 so far. how many are there? Me: 27. You got five left :) Chris: you're a shit head Me: :)

I smile as he sends a photo of all the hearts he's found. I notice the biggest on not there. At that fact, I breathe a sigh of relief. Considering that's the one with the confession on it.

I then get a facetime call from him, probably wanting to know where they're hidden.

I answer, only to be greeted by an unfolded paper with words on it. My eyes widen in shock, and I sit up quickly looking at the paper, instantly recognizing it.

"You've got some explaining to do."

"I-"

"Not to be THAT person but, why on paper? I get it's more poetic but hearing it straight from you would've been better."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't even know what I was thinking."

"You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm coming over."

"But you can't drive-"

"Don't care. I'll fucking walk."

"Why?"

"So we can talk, in person. Not over the phone."

Butterflies.

"Oh- okay. Are you going to stay on the phone?"

I see a faint nod of his head as I hear him walking on stairs, presumably to the front door of their house.

"Yeah. Why the fuck would I hang up?"

He looks dead at the camera as he walks out of the door and starts walking.

"You do know where you're going right?"

"'Course I do. Been over to your pace so many damn times I have a special route that gets me there faster."

"Oh yeah? What route would that be?"

"Can't tell. A magician never shares his secrets."

"I can't with you." I laugh out as I stand up from my couch and pick up some trash that was on the floor.

"Well, apparently you can. Considering that your note said that you've, and I quote, 'Liked me since we were in freshman year of high school'."

I sigh as I shake my head with a quiet chuckle.

"Okay now, no need to get all smart about it."

"Ha-ha."

"Did you open all of the hearts? Or just opened the biggest one just because?" I smile at the camera.

"I just opened the big one just because."

"Make sure that when you go home later that you open all of them."

"I'm outside. Can you buzz me in?"

"If you press the damn button." I walk over to the speaker and button next to my front door and wait for the buzz on his end before buzzing it on my end.

"I'll be up in a few. Bye."

"Bye."

I lock my phone and throw it on the couch. Did that actually just happen? He actually found my confession.

My stomach churns at the idea of him rejecting it or something. Like, maybe laughing in my face. Or maybe he'll laugh in my face, then stop talking to me.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts at the sound of knocks at my front door.

I take a deep breath and open the door to be greeted by a smiling Chris. Who immediately wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug. Out of instinct, my arms fly around his neck, my hands positioning themselves in his hair.

Once we pull away, he walks to the couch and plops down. In his 'spot'. Which is really my spot, but I let him have it just for the sake of mine, and his brother's sanity. I sit on the cushion next to him, but not so close we're touching.

"I'm going to go right off the bat, I'm not here to laugh in your face, or reject you."

"You aren't?" I turn my head to him, earning a small smile and a head shake.

"No. I'm here to tell you, I'll happily go out with you and be your boyfriend. I just need to hear it in your words. Not writing."

I nod and clear my throat, preparing to say the corniest thing known to man, something he will most definitely not appreciate, but will take it.

"Chris, I've had like a major crush on you since we started high school. And I've never told you all this time because I value our friendship more than anything else in this world." I let out a chuckle at my next actions.

I stand up and move in front of him, getting on one knee and grabbing one of his hands with both of mine.

"So, here's me confessing. I love you, Chris. I always will. Will you make me the happiest girl and be my boyfriend?"

I can see the visible wince on his face at my actions, heck even my face is in a wince. It's really corny and cheesy, but it'll do.

He breaks out laughing for a second before nodding, earning a sigh of relief from me as he stands up and pulls me up with him. He looks into my eyes, and we hold eye contact for a second before he breaks the silence.

"I would love to be your boyfriend. Nothing would be better."

I smile at his words and move to hug him, but he stops me by placing his hands on my cheeks. I put one of my hands on his wrist, holding it.

He starts to lean in slowly, his gaze occasionally flickering between my eyes and lips. He stops once we're literally centimeters away from each other's lips, his eyes searching mine before I close the gap and plant my lips on his.

He pulls back for a second before leaning back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His hands rest on my hips while mine rest in his hair and on his shoulder, holding each other close.

We pull back for much needed air. Both of us panting for breath.

"Next Saturday, will you go on a date with me?"

I nod, our foreheads bumping against each other as I do.

"Is that even a relevant question at this point?" I smile at him as he tightens his arms around me, pulling me closer into an embrace.

This is perfect.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo ✮ @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮

People who asked to be tagged in part two !

@idont-really-know ✮ @american-girl001 ✮ @hoshhoshh ✮ @hannahdoesstuff ✮ @athenalive ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask !! ✮

I love all of you guys ! Hope you all have a wonderful day and / or night ✮

[explosionkatsu]

“Who’s phone is this?”

Bakugou x Reader

Its Saturday and the common area is quiet. Why? Cause Mr. Aizawa apparently gave class 1-A a hard time after Mineta made fun of Aizawa while in class and Denki decided to give out a huge laugh.

Deku’s group was the first one to appear in the common area followed by the others, to do a catch-up study since, sadly, the torture hasn't ended.

“Ugh. I’m so tired!!” Ochako groaned and yawned at the same time as soon as she reached the sofa. “Plus this studying?!” She pouted.

“Don’t worry, Ochako. I can't help you study.” Momo smiled and sat beside her.

“I'm sure we’ll be fine after this, kero.” Tsu added and sat as well.

“Studying will give us good grades! We should work hard to become a better heroes!!” Iida exclaimed enthusiastically making everyone's sweat drop as they all watches him.

“Shall I prepare us tea? My mother got this new tea from Italy and had it delivered to me!” Momo’s eyes sparkled making everyone nod, sweatshop never left. Momo made her way toward the kitchen to prepare the tea for everyone. As soon as she swung around, she noticed a phone on the countertop.

Blinking, she decided to take it and show it to everyone. “Ano, everyone. Who’s phone is this?” She said, holding up the said phone.

Everyone looked at her shrugging, answering they didn't know.

“Why not check the lock screen?” Hagakure looked at Jirou as she suggested making everyone nod.

Momo places the kettle she's holding down and firmly hold the phone before clicking on the lock button showing a picture of Bakugou. “It's a picture of Bakugou.”

“It's probably Kaachan’s. I guess it's better to place it back before he-

“What the fuck are you talking about me, you damn nerd!”

Hearing his voice, Izuku froze on his seat before waiving his arms around. “N-nothing K-kaachan! W-we just found, well, more like Momo found your p-phone in the kitchen.”

“Geez. Calm down man.” Kirishima chimed in before yawning. Followed by Denki, Mina and Sero.

“Hah? The fuck are you saying you damn nerd. I have my phone right here!” Bakugou showed his phone while holding his notebook in his other hand.

“We should call it!” Mina shouted. “Good Morning everyone!” she smiled as they all reached the ground.

“I don't have my phone with me cause Bakubro here told us not to bring it since we're all studying.”

“Same here.”

“Yeah me too.”

“Kaachan has his phone.” Izuku suggested.

“Shut up!” Bakugou shouted at Izuku making him jump.

“Yeah, Bakugou.”

“Maybe you can call those who aren't here. You do have our numbers, right?” Momo said looking at Bakugou.

“I don't have all your numbers, extras.” Bakugou said walking away.

“Come on, Bakubro. We should at least help.” Kirishima tried convincing Bakugou while walking side by side with him.

“Yeah, man. Someone might be panicking right now cause they lost their phone.” Sero said.

“Tch.” Bakugou glared. “Write the damn numbers on a fucking paper and give it to me,” Bakugou said heading to the dining hall.

After minutes of writing the number of people who aren't with them, all of them gather at the dining hall along with the unknown device with them. They handed the paper to Bakugou who aggressively took the paper from Izuku and place it in front of him.

He took out his phone and typed the first phone number. He put it on a speaker and they waited for the other phone to ring.

Nothing.

The second number, nothing, third, nothing. Until they reached the seventh number.

“That’s Y/N’s number.” Momo said.

“Speaking of Y/N. Where is she?” Jirou asked looking around.

“Probably still asleep,” Kirishima said with his face resting on the palm of his hand watching Bakugou.

“Fucking dumbass.” Bakugou mumbled while typing down their number. As soon as he pressed the call, the phone rang, showing a picture of him with the name ‘Crush ❤️.’

Everyone went ‘ooooo’. The ladies started giggling, and the men are grinning like an idiot except for Iida, Shoto, and Izuku who is smiling.

Y/n who just woke up suddenly appeared in the dining hall, holding their notebook while yawning. “What’s the commotion..” they said between a yawns.

Everyone suddenly turns their head toward them and stares back at them curiously.

“What?”

Mina smiled, “So you have a crush on blasty right here.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou shouted face red as he aggressively stood up and grabbing the phone, giving it to Y/n who was now as well red as a tomato and return to his room.

“W-what!?” Y/n yelled embarrassedly and run away from their classmates who's teasing them.