#mood ring ringtone

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

what’s your favorite scary movie?

summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.

pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon

a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.

18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.

————————————-

Ring! Ring!

The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.

“What do you want?” you asked irritably.

“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”

“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”

“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”

“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”

“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”

“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”

“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”

“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”

“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”

“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”

“A pervert,” you said.

“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”

“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.

“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, now goodbye–”

“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”

The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.

“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”

“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”

“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”

You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”

“Just a guess,” he said.

You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”

“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.

“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”

“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”

“Fuck you, creep,” you said.

“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.

“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”

“It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”

“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away. 

You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.

“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”

“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”

“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”

“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly. 

“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”

“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”

“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”

You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”

“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.

“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”

“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”

“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”

You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him. 

“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.

“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”

He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck. 

“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”

“What?” he panted. 

“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth. 

“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”

“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again. 

“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.

“Hm?”

“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”

“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.” 

“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.

You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”

You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.

“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said. 

“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”

“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”

“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”

You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach. 

“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.

“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”

“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”

“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”

“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.” 

“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”

“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.

You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”

“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”

“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”

“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”

He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”

“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”

“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.

“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”

“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”

“From behind,” you said.

“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”

He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”

“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”

He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”

“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”

You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.

“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”

He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”

You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.

“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”

“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.

He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.

“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”

You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”

“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”

Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.

“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”

“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip. 

“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”

It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.

“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”

He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands. 

“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”

“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately. 

“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”

“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.

“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”

“And cut!” the director called.

You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”

“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”

“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”

“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”

“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said. 

“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”

You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

____________

taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @trashmouth-richie @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @happylilthought @sunkillerdreamer @battymunson @whore4romance @hallovoid @harrys-housewife14 @alovesongtheywrote @filthy-gorgeous @emmyshortcake @softgoodsstyles @deathlyweird 

[acid-ixx]

I love your Batfam series! When I saw that you accepted fanart, I scrambled immediately to make a quick, rough WIP

I kinda like the visual idea of reader trying to study or sort a plan to figure out how to settle their debt while their phone won't stop ringing

Tried my best to make it as gender neutral as possible, threw in some reading glasses, and just stuck a few pens and pencils in their hair that they just tend to forget about

I'm not sure how you visualize their coloring, but I like to imagine they have brown hair and eyes

That despite being Bruce's biological kid, it doesn't match his and they feel like it's another thing that separates them from the family

— masterlist !

this is so... ong u guys are feeding me such good food !! i feel so honored to just see this 😭 !! the lighting, the expressions and the overall mood of this really solidifies the piece and i love every single thing about this, ur so talented frfr !! tysm for bestowing me the very honor i am blessed.

this would be an accurate representation of them trying to study for their finals whilst trying to block out the endless ringing from their (most definitely) hacked phone— it gives them an excuse to leave gotham even further, hell even dropping off from college because they'd rather stay up by cramming countless of information into their mind than hearing that dreaded ringtone one more time.

and no, they can't even fucking mute it because babs and tim had already hacked through your phone's system! not even burner phones are safe from them. so yeah... they're definitely bound to throw their phone across the room.

the reader can be interpreted in any way or form and i like how you and @/luffyadolover settled on giving them baggy clothes and oversized jackets ngl !

and i love your ending sentence because this is actually factual from the canon lore of my series! you see, you sport more of your mother's physical traits than that of bruce's, which further sets you apart from, you know, finding at least a semblance of similarity you share with him. and that only worsens the bitterness that resides in your heart once you see damian, who's almost like a picture perfect representation of bruce.

but it doesn't take away the fact that your mother's beauty, unlike your father's rigid edges or his stoic yet charming expression, settles more into the ethereal zone, she could've been a model in another life, hence why she was oh-so successful in pocketing the money of many rich folks.

[jiwoneiric]

give me your forever

the world is against you, except one.

pairing: non-idol!pham hanni x bestfriend!reader

genre: hurt comfort

tags: y/n got her heart broken, pham hanni isn't having any of it, y/n is ofc a '04 liner, y/n is much taller than hanni.

warning: cursing, self-hatred, injuries, self-doubts

word counts: 1.8k

playlist

you are never going to be enough for anyone.

the last sentence your girlfriend said to you lingers in your mind.

wait, no.

she’s your ex-girlfriend now.

it was the last thing she said to you and the last thing you have heard from anyone since you drowned yourself in the comfort of your bed. you’ve cried a lot. too much to the point you can’t physically cry anymore. it’s like you have run out of tears to let out. your friends have simultaneously come and go to your dormitory room but no one could get over the other side of the wall. 

well, at least, not yet.

you know deep inside that you will only allow your best friend to do so but her being MIA for the past few days got you worried, and inevitably hurt. 

where did she go? is she sick? or is she just going to abandon you like jinah did?

her absence affects you so much but you don’t have the energy to reach out, adding to the fact that what jinah said to you has affected you significantly.

so, you just wait, albeit the sting on your heart starts to grow into a punch on your heart.

you know your friends are getting worried with the nonstop notifications and ringtones ringing from your phone but you still lay lifelessly on your bed.

it is not that you like jinah that much but the way she took your heart and stomped on that poor thing two days ago hurt you a little bit too much. you hated how you remember vividly the way she slipped out all those words about you being undeserving of being loved, about you being so egoistic that no one would dare to look your way again.

and it is all because of the dare she took from her best friend, who turned out to be one of the suitors you have rejected in the past.

was your rejection too harsh? you don’t think so. you rejected her politely, saying how she is a good person but you are not interested in having a romantic relationship with her. so, why was jinah’s best friend so mad?

or was it jinah who was mad all along?

you don’t know and thinking about the possibilities hurts your head so bad so you shrug it off.

and a soft knock on your door pulls your attention.

“choi y/n?”

the long-awaited voice has finally arrived. you smile bitterly before standing up to open the door for her.

“hey—”

you hadn’t finished greeting her when you got engulfed in a tight hug from pham hanni. reciprocating the hug, you freeze when she lets out a wince.

“han?”

“i’m fine, i’m fine.”

not convinced, you break the hug immediately and the sight in front of you causes you to gasp loudly.

hanni has bandages all over her arms. her left cheek is in the shade of dark purple, most probably from a punch or two.

“w-what happened?”

your sorrow is neglected as worries fill your entire system. knowing that han won’t budge, you immediately yet carefully guide her to take a seat on the side of your bed.

“y/n—”

“who did you beat?”

you say sternly, giving hanni zero chance to change the topic.

“or, should i ask, who the hell beaten you up?”

you let out a grunt when all she did was look away, avoiding your questions like the plague. you are not in a good mood so her act irritates you more than it should.

“if you are not going to tell me, just go.”

that sentence was what you needed to make her look your way again. you know you caught her off-guarded with those words, causing her to panic almost instantly.

“o—okay! i’ll tell you! just…”

her voice dies down but you wait, knowing how she needs some time to rethink her decision and let the silence engulf the room.

“i kinda need a hug…”

you noticed the pained and drained look on her face and immediately agreed in silence as you climbed your bed to lie down before patting the space beside you.

once you think she’s comfortable in her position, you pull her into your embrace. a smile formed on your face when you heard her contented sigh.

“so, the thing is that i was really really mad, and still am, to be very honest, at that damn jinah so i kinda went up to her when i saw her walking outside yesterday.”

“so you throw the punch first, hm?”

you giggle softly when hanni can only let out a whine.

“i mean, she looked so smug at that time i couldn’t hold myself back any more!”

you feel hanni’s grip on your shirt tighten. you love how you can read hanni like an open book and the fact that she only acts like this with you. you keep caressing her silky hair that recently got shorter since she said she wants a change in her so-called dull life, in an attempt to comfort her and yourself. 

“oh no, yn…”

you are so surprised by hanni’s words that you pull back from the embrace to ensure she’s fine.

“why? why? are you hurting somewhere?”

you are left confused as hanni buries her face into your neck.

“the one who should do the comforting is me, not you…”

oh.

you are dazed upon the realisation that you forgot about your feelings the moment you saw hanni in front of your door earlier.

“it’s ok—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence when hanni wiggled her way out of your embrace and sat up immediately before looking back at you.

“what did she say to you?”

you stifled your laugh upon seeing her sudden serious face but to be honest, she just looks super cute right now with her lips pursed and her eyebrows so close to each other.

but still, your smile wears down while sitting up when you get taken back to the scene that happened two days ago. when jinah took your heart and stomped it on the ground heartlessly—as if she’s the one being taken her heart away—before throwing out the haunting sentence that filled up your mind.

you didn’t realise how long you were completely quiet until you registered han’s soft and gentle touch on your arm.

“do you want to tell me what happened?”

you hesitate a bit, wary about putting burdens on your best friend’s shoulder.

but the said best friend can also read you like an open book. before you can decline her, she encourages you first.

“just so you know, you won’t burden me with this at all.”

your heart suddenly clenched, your eyes suddenly filled with tears and your head hung low as you bit your lower lips when hanni started caressing your hair.

your resistance has proven weak, especially in hanni’s arms when you started sobbing your heart out while the caressing on your hair gets even gentler than you thought was possible.

“it’s okay, y/n. let it all out. i’m here to catch you. i’m here.”

hanni’s heart breaks when she feels your grip on her shirt tighten alongside your loudened sobs. a tinge of anger seeps inside her heart upon the thought of what jinah had done to make you cry so miserably. even if you won’t tell her what happened, she’ll make sure jinah will pay the price.

“sh-she said that it was all for a revenge b-because i rejected her best friend before.”

you managed to slip it out without stuttering much. you expected hanni to shout her anger like she always does when you’re feeling down because of someone else but all she did was furrow her eyebrows and caress your hair, signing that she’s trying her best to let you let your feelings all out.

“and sh-she said that,”

you gulp your tears down, feeling your heart clenched even harder at the flashback in your head.

“that i will never be enough for anyone…”

the way your voice quietens down hurts hanni’s heart so bad.

“you might not believe me now, y/n but you are more than enough for me”

“how can i be, han?” 

you deny weakly. everyone who knows choi y/n know how strong-minded you are, and how you never get wavered by people’s talks. how you always managed to stand straight no matter what fell upon you.

but this time, it hurts you so bad knowing that someone you allow yourself to be vulnerable with thinks of you like that.

“y/n..”

“jinah won't say it if she didn’t mean it, didn’t she?”

“either she meant it or not, she’s so wrong, y/n. you are everything to me, you are enough to be my best friend, you are enough as my listener and you are also enough to be my menace too.”

you smile a bit when hanni ends her assurance with a light chuckle.

“really?”

“yeah.”

“even when i ghosted you for two days straight?”

“it’s understandable, y/n. you were hurt, still are, and it is just right for me to give you space for a little bit.”

the past few days you were so mad at her for not checking up on you when all she was trying to do was to give you space to recollect yourself. a small frown appears upon the disappointment hits you. you were cut off from your thoughts when you felt hanni’s small fingers drawing circles and patterns on the back of your hands.

“what’s wrong, hm?”

“I was so mad at you thinking that you didn’t care about me but it turned out that you care the most…”

your heart breaks a little upon seeing the surprise on hanni’s face.

“oh, y/n… i should have told you first, shouldn’t i?"

you shake your head, disagreeing with her.

“no, no. i should have known better, han. seriously.”

she probably sensed that you are not hiding anything as she proceed to tuck your head under her neck while caressing your hair.

a comfortable silent fills the room, driving you sleepy with the warmth of hanni’s embrace. 

"you're not falling asleep on me, are you?" 

"uhuh..." 

you try to force your eyes open for just a little while but the sleepless nights have caught on you. you let hanni lay you down before pulling you into her embrace once again. hanni’s soft chuckle is the last thing you heard before you were taken to dreamland.

hanni smiles fondly, letting her finger graze on your face, touching every detail on it that she had long engraved in her memory.

“have a good sleep, my love.”

she kisses your forehead so softly as if you are a valuable masterpiece. her heart swollen upon hearing your contented sigh.

“i wish i could hold you like this forever, y/n.”

hanni confesses, pulling you impossibly closer to herself as she, too, drifts into dreamland.

a/n: thank you for giving this a read! feel free to leave a request on my ask :D comments and reblogs are so appreciated :))))

p/s: might do a second part since I'm on my sem break idk hihi

[adnauseum11]

WILCO (John Price x Reader)

You have a rude awakening and John makes a suggestion.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome as always!

You wake to your cell phone’s ringtone, blaring from John’s bedside table. It startles you both awake, John jerking nearly upright beside you in bed. You groan and take the ringing phone from John’s hand, clearing your throat before you answer it. 

John wilts back into the mattress, dragging his palms over his face with a deep sigh. You pat his shoulder, sliding out of bed to take your call. You realize it’s work calling to see where you are midway down the hallway, your absence eventually noticed. You explain, through your sleep roughened voice, that your home had been broken into the previous night and you don’t think you will be making it in today.

There’s some back and forth about the level of professionalism expected, to simply not turn up considered unacceptable regardless of circumstances. They agree to not write you up due to the extenuating nature of your situation but advise that notice is required when missing a day of work. It rubs you the wrong way, being chastised like a teenager. By the time John joins you in the kitchen in his jeans and t-shirt, you’re already demoralized before the day has begun. 

“Who was that?” he wants to know, taking in the slope of your shoulders and the long stare you are giving your coffee mug.

“Work, and honestly, I think I’m going to quit.”

John blinks and checks his watch and raises a brow at you, pouring his own coffee.

“It’s not even 10 am.”

“So what?” 

“Awful early to be making rash life decisions, love.” He says archly, taking a sip of his steaming mug. 

“Well, no time like the present.” You grumble, gently patting his ribs to make him move when he stands blocking the pantry. 

He steps aside and watches you, scratching his whiskered cheek with an air of uncertainty that is unlike him. You rummage around in his pantry shelves, looking for bagels but finding whole grain bread instead. You shoot him a look when he’s still looking at you a few seconds later, waiting for your toast. 

“What? I’m serious, I think I’m going to quit. I don’t give a fuck about their bottom line when I’m…what? Temporarily homeless? Shit, I gotta send a copy of the police report to the landlord-”

You set your coffee down and turn to leave your position by the toaster but John catches you, a fond look on his face as he wraps his hand around your wrist.

“Hold on, love. One second. That can wait a few minutes. Eat your breakfast. There’s still raspberries in the fridge.”

“I know, I didn’t want to finish them all on you.”

“Darling they’re for you. Eat them.” John is amused, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Yeah?” You can’t keep the elation out of your voice. Your toast pops and you pull away, preoccupied with buttering the slices for a moment.

John retrieves the berries for you instead of answering, sitting beside you at the kitchen table as he slides them onto your plate. You immediately pop one into your mouth, making him smile softly. He fists his hand at his temple and leans on his elbow, watching you inhale berry after berry for a moment before broaching the topic that’s been circling in his brain since last night. 

“If you’re still in the mood for rash life decisions, I have another for you. I think you should break your lease and move in here. Live with me, love.”

You freeze with a berry half way to your mouth, eyes widening. You know he hates your apartment. You didn’t realize he was this serious about leaving it behind. 

“Really, John? You don’t think that’s moving kind of… fast?”

You can feel your heart thrumming in your chest, nervous suddenly. John purses his lips and shakes his head ‘no’, not taking his eyes off you. His sureness is steadying, zero hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Not really. Feels more like home when you’re here, love. Always has.”

John’s tone is soft, and you know him well enough to know he’s being sincere. The moment suddenly feels weighted, like whatever you decide will colour your relationship moving forward. You can’t tear your eyes away from his, the sharp blue of his gaze pinning you in place, demanding a decision in one direction or another. The blanket you gave him catches the corner of your eye, draped over the back of his couch, where it’s had pride of place since it came into his care. It calls up his words from last night, spoken in frustration.  

You bite your lip and nod slowly, focusing back on John’s handsome face.  “Alright, I… yeah. We can…I can break my lease.”

The slow smile that takes over John’s face, matches the one spreading across yours. 

“I’m going to be honest love, I thought it would take more convincing than this.” He says lowly, hooking his foot in the rung of your chair to drag you closer to his seat. You feed him the forgotten raspberry in your hand, his lips dragging over your fingertips making your stomach swoop. 

“I can be more difficult if you like.” You purr, biting your bottom lip and feeding him another berry. 

The look between you turns heated but before either of you can act on it, his cell rings, breaking the moment. He leans over and kisses you before getting up to take his call, his eyes lingering on you at the kitchen table.   

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms

[navstuffs]

Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

 4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No. 

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 

[leonw4nter]

Hi! Imagine like pop star/extremely popular music artist gf or s/o and Leon met them by being their body gaurd? I think a drabble of this would be so cute, or even just headcannons!

The Theories Of My World Revolving Around You

Bodyguard!RE4R!Leon x F!Popstar!Reader || Read next: 2

Chapter 1: "Running Up That Hill"

“Agent Kennedy, may I repeat that  you are too unstable for another overseas mission–”

“Lab reports said that I am just fine! They cleared me and stated that I’m fit to go to Bosnia–”

“Agent Kennedy!” President Graham exclaimed, both his hands coming in contact with the oak of his desk and creating a loud pounding sound.

“The last mission to Spain nearly killed you! I appreciate the risks and near-death encounters you had just to get Ashley back home but you could’ve died! You made it back barely alive! What about your mental state, huh? I’m sure as hell that dealing with all that crap would do a number on your mind. Physically you claim that you’re doing well, but how are you doing mentally?”

Leon stayed silent, gaze drifting down; President Graham was right: he was physically fit but what about his mind? Is he stable there? He knew he needed a break from all of this but who is going to be in the front lines? What’s going to happen to Sherry and Claire? Who’s going to give up their life just so a hundred others can live? He needed to give himself a break but chaos never rests, it’s just waiting for him to get his guard down.

“Mr. President, I know that you’re looking out for me but USSTRATCOM needs me. A little girl needs me,” Leon softly explains even if he feels his patience wear thin.

“I understand your concerns, Agent Kennedy, but they have many other agents just as capable as you are. You need rest. As for the girl and Ms. Redfield… I can assure you that they will be alright.” was all the older man said. “You will be referred to another protective detail. We are not necessarily laying you off but I need to refer you to lower departments and other less… demanding organizations. You’re dismissed.”

Leon simply sighed and gave the President a small nod, head hung low as he headed for the door of the Oval Office. A part of him felt grateful for the break given to him– that is if you can call it a break. He’s not exactly totally resting, he’s still on duty– just a less demanding one. Another, bigger part of him felt as if he couldn’t just sit around and wait until they’ll call him back for another job. He was just about to worry about Claire’s college tuition, worrying if student loan debt will be an issue soon but he remembered that he gave her her monthly allowance just a while back, which means that she’ll be just fine. As for Sherry, he knows she’s in good hands with Claire as her legal guardian. With the millionth sigh for today, he runs a calloused hand through his hair and decides to head home, too tired to deal with more crap for today.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Never would Leon have thought that he would be thankful for the loud ringing of his phone, the ringtone loud enough to help him snap out of a nightmare he’s been struggling to wake up from. Half asleep and slightly disoriented, he answers the call and brings the phone up to his ears.

“Is this Mister… Kennedy? Kennedy, Leon?,” an unfamiliar voice responds from the other end of the line.

“Yes,” Leon says, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Who is this?”

“I’m Agent Corey Morgan. Someone under the agency you’re currently in referred you under my team–”

“What team,” Leon interrupts, his mood already sour because of the nightmare and with work being the first thing he is bombarded with in the morning. The man on the other side of the line cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by Leon’s snappy attitude.

“My team under a celebrity protection detail company,” Morgan responds. “We are Citadel Group and we offer protective services to celebrities. I’m sure you are very much familiar with Ms. Ashley Graham.”

“Ashley must’ve put in a word with her father,” Leon thought to himself. “Citadel Group huh,” he mumbles.

“Yes. We request you to send in your resumé within the day for closer deliberation before we can let you start, even if the things we’ve heard about you are beyond exemplary. I’ll send in a follow-up email as soon as the screening process is finished.”

Leon hummed, already exhausted with all of this. The call ended and he tossed his phone to his bed, too tired to do anything but it’s not like he can get back to sleep again when he knows that only nightmares are there to wait for him. With a groan, he gets up and brews himself a cup of coffee to try and salvage the already worsening day.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He sent in his resumé despite several fields being blacked out, receiving an email hours after stating that he’s been assigned to a singer, codenamed ‘Red String’  and will start duty a week from now. He arrives home from the additional interview, keys fumbling to unlock the door to his apartment. He stumbles in, kicking off his dress shoes and undoing one more button to his white button-up before he shrugs his navy blue blazer off, folding and placing it on the back of a dining chair. He rummages through his cabinets, looking for a heavy-bottomed glass to pour some Jack in. Claire chides him in his drinking but he can’t help but drink right now; he’s probably going to be babysitting some stuck-up diva or be at the receiving end of a tirade of screaming if a small drop of rain lands on their shoulder or something. Flashing lights, Leon remembers; there’s probably going to be paparazzi hounding his client with their obnoxious cameras. Leon catches himself worrying over flash photography, cursing himself; the president was right on the matter regarding his mental health.

“Fuck, Leon. You need help,” he silently mutters to himself as a bitter chuckle leaves his throat. This line of work caused Leon to be more thankful towards the mundane– thankful for the opportunity to even get in 3 hours of sleep in, the fact that the loud noise he heard was just a bus and not an Armadura, or that he simply stepped on a twig on the way home and no BOW is out for him for making such a small, seemingly harmless noise.

He takes another drink before the glass is empty again, refilling it with liquor. He has a week alone with his tortuous mind before he can finally do something, even if it’s less intense than what he’s been conditioned to endure.

NOTE - I srsly had to redo my post again bc my laptop died and whatever I did didn't save 😭 Neways, BIG thanks to the anon who requested this!!! I genuinely loved this idea so much, I had to make it a series :) First chapter is short, next chapters will be a little bit longer than this so just strap in and uh wait ig :3 Also, I don't know how protective detail shit works so this is inaccurate as hell so if you're looking for accuracy then this isn't for you :) That's it and thank you to whoever reads my fics, I <333333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!

The heart dividers were made by @fairytopea , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[whoreish-behaviour]

Can you handle that?

If you haven't watched Scream 1996 (how?!) please pleasee go watch this scene - (Timestamp 3:25 specifically) :))

This is like a modern version.

Part 2

Ghostface x Fem!Reader

Warnings ; dubcon, coercion, voyeurism, guided masturbation, phone sex?, slight overstim

The popcorn popped gently in the background as you endlessly scrolled through your phone, looking for any horror movies that peaked your interest.

Boring.

Predictable.

Wayy too gory.

Dropping the phone onto the counter, you huffed in annoyance as you rested your head on your hand. The popping sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen, the house being empty of its usual life.

You raked your brain for ideas now you were finally alone. And now that you thought about it more, it had been a while since your hands traced your body as you dived head first into self-please.

Yeah, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

The thought alone already had your thighs squeezing together.

Just as your were turning to shut off the stove, your phone vibrated below you. Eyebrows furrowed, your eyes scanned the name.

No Caller ID.

Shrugging, you picked up the phone without a care and pressed the little green button.

'Hello?'

'Hello.' An unfamiliar voice responded back.

'Yes?'

'Who is this?' Hadn't he called you first..?

"I think you have the wrong number.' You pursed your lips.

'I don't think I do and you didn't answer my question.'

His suddern steriness made you nervous and your thighs shudder.

Jesus, had it really been that long?

'I think I’m gonna go, you definitely dialed the wrong number. See you.' You announced quickly and before he could even speak two words, you hung up.

Before you could even place the phone back on the counter, it vibrated again in your hand.

You hesitated on pressing 'answer', however your curiosity about what he wanted grew stronger until eventually you caved.

'Hello?' You hoped he didn't hear your voice quiver.

'We weren't finished talking, were we sweetheart?' The nickname made you swallow thickly and clench your fist.

'I think we definitely are now.' You tried to sound stern, not wanting some man over the phone to think he had any kind of control over you.

'Hang up again and you'll regret it.'

"Fuck I will." You argued back before doing exactly what he told you not to do.

You tossed the phone on the counter, before turning your back to it completely. Sure, he had shaken you but that was exactly what he wanted.

It was probably just an ego boost for him to freak woman out over the phone, picturing their scared faces in their own homes.

Fucker.

The phone vibrated consistency where it laid, however you stared mindlessly at the ceiling, cursing out the universe for ruining the mood.

You began to chew your nails, his words ringing in your head.

You'll regret it.

An incoming text made your ears prick, looking over your shoulder and down at the device. The text made your heart jump against your ribs.

Unknown Number - Answer the phone.

Unknown Number - Now.

The text didn't hold any explanation marks but you knew that he wasn't fucking around anymore. Your stomach sank as your ringtone yet again rang out.

Last chance, before what? You didn't know.

The phone was in your hand again, thumb pressing down on the screen as you brought it up to your ear.

'Whats got you all nervous over there? Never had a punishment before hm?' His implication made you shived with fear.

He couldn't see you, could he..?

'Or maybe its just because you haven't touched that sweet cunt of yours in a while..' You gasped out loud, pure shock and heat blooming on your face.

'You sick fuck-'

'Ah ah, thats no way to talk to me sweetheart.' He scowled, voice deep and dripping with dominance. Against your better judgement, your core responded.

'What do you want?" Your voice was quiet, all confident gone.

"I just wanna play a game is all.' His tone almost mocked you, as if you had no reason to be terrified.

'What kind of game?' You body shrink as you waited for his response. He seemed to think about it for a second, the silence killing you softly.

'It involves you taking off them soaked panties and sitting your pretty self on that counter for me.'

You froze as he once again rendered you speechless. You hand holding the phone shook as your mouth ran dry.

'Can you handle that?' He teased.

You didn't know what to be more disturbed by: his request or that your body throbbed in response. Theres no way you wanted this..right?

Would that make you just as bad as him?

You gulped, looking at all the windows - wondering if you'll see a glimpse of his shadow. That was if he was even watching you.

'Quit acting so modest, you think I haven't noticed that little stunt you've been pulling with them thighs of yours.' He almost whispered as if it was a dirty taboo thing (it was).

''I don't kn-'

'Now sweetheart.'

You don't know what possessed you. Maybe it was his veil of seduction or just your horniness but you found yourself thumbing at the band of your panties.

Would it be so bad? To have a stranger watch you touch yourself? It sounded like some corny porno.

'If you don't move within the next 2 seconds, I'll come tie you to the fucking table myself.' His voice dropped, his frustration becoming evident.

And that was more than enough for you to clamber up onto the cool marble, contrast to your hot clammy skin, hands already working your underwear down your sticky thighs.

It dropped to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap! You grimaced as you picked your phone up once again.

'Look who's finally behaving herself. Put me on loud speaker and face the patio window.' You heart beat up against your ribcage as you did as you where told.

'Mhm, look at youu.' He dragged out the 'you', adding a playfulness to the tension building. You shivered as his statement solidified that was he indeed watching you.

'Now spread those pretty thighs for me, let me see the mess I made.' You felt yourself drip even more as each word left his mouth.

You gently lifted your legs - feet resting on the counter with you and spread your knees apart.

The cold air against your pussy made you whimper as you clenched around nothing.

'Fuck, I knew you were a slut.' He groaned and you almost moaned right back at him from the sound alone.

'Trace them beautiful thighs for me sweet.' He spoke low and stern.

Your right hand trembled as you ran it down your stomach, across your hip and finally to your thigh, your left hand staying behind you to support your body.

You allowed just the every tips of your fingers to run across your skin, nerves making them shake slightly.

'Mhm good girl. Now get closer.'

You did, your whole body shaking from anticipation as your nails grazed where you need it most. Everything felt wet and you whined at the lack of stimulation.

'You need it that bad huh pretty girl? Go on, touch that pussy.' He pushed and you wasted no time.

You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

'No, no - slower. Can't have you coming too quick, can we?' He tutted, redirecting you before you got too carried away. You moaned in response but obeyed nevertheless.

Your fingers slipped every now and then as your whined and moaned into the quiet again. The man on the phone encouraged you continuously, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

'Good fucking girl.'

'Keep rubbing that puffy clit for me. That's ittt.'

'I can see you dripped down on the fucking table - you're so desparate.'

The only words that left your lips were 'Please' as you threw your head back, rubbing your clit harder until he scolded you to slow down once again.

'If you need it that bad, put a finger inside that tight cunt and fuck yourself 'till you cum.' You almost cried out in happiness as you slid your hands lower, a single finger entering you.

'Fuck I can hear that sloppy pussy through the phone, put me closer.' You responded with a quiet 'okay' and moved the phone closer to in between your legs.

'Go on, fuck that cunt.' He ordered and your once again threw your head back, moving your finger faster.

You curled your middle finger up against your G spot until you felt that pit in your stomach built up once again. This time you didn't care what he said, you were going to make yourself come.

You also slid your left hand in and rubbed your clit, your coordination slightly off but you didn't care, it was working.

'Come for me pretty girl.'

That was your final straw as your felt everything you had built crumble between your legs. Your hips bucked up against your own hands and you dropped back flat against the surface below you.

'Move your hands sweet girl, let me see.' He cooed at you and you did as you were told, bringing your hands up to rest on your chest.

'Fuck, you rubbed your poor pussy raw babe.' He faked sympathy but you were too busy trying to catch your breathe.

'But don't get too comfortable, keep going.' You froze.

'W-What..?'

'You heard me, sit up and. Keep. Going.' He ordered and you couldn't even splutter a response. You back ached as you sat up, thigh trembling and twitching.

You slid your hand down, soaked with you arousal, back down to your pulsing core.

However, as your fingertips came in contact with your clit, your hips bucked away as the painful surge of overstimulation shocked through you.

'I-I cant.'

'You can.' He instantly spoke back, 'I wanna see you come from those pretty fingers again.'

You decided to leave your clit and slide lower, reentering your middle finger into your quivering core. But even then, you flinched away from sensitivity.

'It's too sensitive.' You whined, retracting your hand away completely.

It went quiet for a bit and you gulped, scared you had somehow pissed him off. Even though you had been good for him, all things considered.

'Fine,' You breathed out a sigh of relief and rested your head back.

'I guess I'll just have to do it myself.'

You bolted upright, uncomfortable as your pussy slid against the now warm counter.

'What did you just say..?'

'I'll give you a 5 minute head start, go hide and if I don't find you - you get off scot free.' He said, 'I promise not to peek.' his voice light and airy while you choked silently.

'But-'

'5 minutes.' He said before he hung up.

Please do not steal, copy or translate my work

[huhjxn]

eavesdrop part I

kim chaewon x fem!soloist!reader

you were badmouthing chaewon and unbeknownst to you, the kim chaewon heard what you said. now, you are baffled as to why chaewon seem to hate you when you literally just met.

! : swearing, angst, chaewon wtf

3.4k words

read part II here.

The hall was filled with people hurrying, trying to do their jobs, making sure that they would be able to do so without any delays. Panic was evident in some of their eyes while the others seem like they are used to this kind of day.

Kim Chaewon loses her balance for a bit as she was accidentally bumped by one of the stylists of a boy group that was about to go into their dressing room. Her eyes enlarged as she saw who she bumped into and Chaewon felt uneasy with it, "It's really not that big of a deal," she thought.

"Don't worry, I'm okay," Chaewon said with a smile that was professionally plastered on her face. The stylist nodded and uttered another apology before hurrying into the group's room.

Chaewon just finished performing on stage with Le Sserafim and was roaming to see if she would see any of her friends that were also promoting.

"She's so annoying, I swear to god," Chaewon heard a familiar voice as she was about to pass by a room with a door that was partly open. "Like that face that she makes? Chaewon seriously gets on my nerves every single time."

She froze on the spot. First of all, she found it absurd that an idol would shamelessly talk crap about her where she could easily get caught. Secondly, she couldn't fathom how a sweet and charming idol like you could do that when you don't even know each other.

Chaewon didn't want to accuse you of badmouthing her, so she decided to sneak a little peak just to be sure and there you were talking to The Boyz's Kim Sunwoo, a frown was very evident on your sickeningly beautiful face.

With her fists clenched, she went back to her dressing room, and when she arrived, her members were simply concerned why their leader seemed to be in such a foul mood.

You woke up to your phone ringing beside you. The obnoxiously loud volume of your ringtone pissed you off in the early hours of the day, so you immediately picked up the phone and answered the call from your manager. 

"Y/N, are you up?" She asked, knowing that she most likely woke you up. Stretching your limbs out and groaning at the sensation, you answered, "Yeah, I'm up now."

"Okay, good. I've got some news for you."

Chaewon's eyes faltered as her manager relayed the news to her. She refused to believe that it was real.

"Are you sure that it has to be me?" Chaewon clarified, "I mean, Kkura unnie is funny and great with variety shows, she's also the best at cooking among us, I think she would be a better fit for the show," she tried to negotiate.

"Chaewon," their manager started, maintaining eye contact with her, "You know that Sakura already has other schedules with Fearless Kkura."

The leader had no choice but to nod in agreement. Although she wanted to say that Yunjin would be a good candidate because the girl is absolutely hilarious, she decided to go with it. Deep down, she was also intrigued and curious about what could possibly happen while working with you.

You couldn't help but feel excited and panicked at the same time. The fact that you were about to work with Le Sserafim's Kim Chaewon still hasn't sunk in with you yet. You closely followed IZ*ONE when they were still active as a group, and you were a hundred percent aware that Kim Chaewon is an intimidating individual who seems to get upset easily and would sometimes bless her fansites with death glares. There's literally nothing to be afraid of.

Checking yourself out in the mirror for the last time, you tried to calm your nerves and took a sip from your cup of iced tea with a shot of espresso before releasing a huge sigh, "Sooyoung unnie seriously have a weird taste," you thought looking at the drink your friend ordered for you.

You put the cup down and left the dressing room, making your way to the studio. On your way there, you could feel your heart pounding, and you had no idea if it was because of the espresso or because you were finally about to meet Kim Chaewon.

When you entered the studio, you noticed that she wasn't there yet so you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Smiling at all the staff that were present, you greeted them one by one.

Chaewon arrived at the scene and saw you laughing with the staffs. The sight was truly adorable but it made her seethe with anger, remembering what you said. However, before anyone could notice, she immediately changed her demeanor, and started greeting the staff as well.

After hearing some commotion behind you, you felt yourself momentarily freeze on the spot before hearing a sweet voice call for you. "Y/N?"

Turning to face the owner of the voice, you were met with a beautiful idol with a smile on her face, "Hi, I'm looking forward to working with you," Chaewon said before bowing.

You mirrored her actions and looked into her eyes. She seemed so lovely but there was definitely something off about her but you couldn't point your finger on it. Deciding to ignore it, you smiled at her and said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Chaewon sunbaenim."

The both of you were getting ready to shoot a short show where you have to bake some pastries and sell it in a local cafe. In all honesty, you were confident in baking; it was your forte. What you're not confident with is baking with Chaewon. 

Although being the same age as her, there's no denying that she's got more experience than you. You also noticed how stiff she was when she's around you; you were worried that you wouldn't vibe with each other and the viewers might notice it as well. 

Trying to diminish the doubts that were currently clouding your head, you tried taking a deep breath before stealing a glance at Chaewon, only to see her already looking at you. 

To be more accurate, you saw her glaring at you. The sight was a total shock. "Is there something wrong?" You thought to yourself. Not long after, a production crew member approached the both of you and Chaewon immediately averted her eyes and smiled at the staff.

"We will be starting in 5, make sure that everything is good to go, and if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call us," he said before approaching the camera. 

You faced your coworker for the day, "Good luck to us," you muttered unsurely, forcing up a smile despite the nerves eating you up. 

Chaewon studied your features, immediately taking notice of your fake smile before crafting a professional smile as well, "Let's do well today so we could go home early."

She could see your face falter and it took everything in her not to roll her eyes and shove you. "This is work," she reminded herself, "You have to be the bigger person."

The shoot started and little by little, the tension between the both of you disappeared. Mostly because Chaewon kept struggling while baking some of the pastries.

"I should just use this mixer for the cream right?" Chaewon asked. You looked up from where you were piping the macaron batter onto the parchment paper. 

You found it absolutely adorable how Chaewon looked so clueless but obviously you wouldn't tell her that. She looked at you expectantly and you realized that you haven't answered her question. 

"Yes, just be careful with it," you said as you felt the warmth on your cheeks and immediately broke eye contact, pretending to be very focused on your task when in reality you could practically do it with your eyes closed.

Chaewon nodded, turning the hand mixer on and using it on the cream. Unfortunately for her, the cream splattered onto her and as a response, she screamed. This immediately caught your attention and rushed to her side, worried that she might've gotten hurt. "Are you okay?" you asked, holding onto her wrist that was on the mixer.

Chaewon nodded, avoiding your eyes, "Yeah, but I'm covered in cream," she said in a cute voice, knowing that the both of you are still filming a content for the fans. Yes, it was for the fans and for the fans only.

You grinned subconsciously, getting a piece of tissue to wipe off the cream on her face. You started wiping the cream on her nose as it was the most visible, and proceeded to wipe the ones that were on her forehead.

"Good thing we're wearing an apron," you joked, and Chaewon couldn't help but blush at her sudden awareness of your close distance. 

After wiping the cream off of her forehead, you took a new piece of tissue and wiped the cream off her lips. You were very focused on cleaning her up to notice the flustered state that the short-haired girl was in. That was until she reached for your wrist and you looked at her in question. Seeing her eyes so close to yours made you rapidly blink before taking a step back.

Chaewon gave a small smile of appreciation before holding onto the mixer once again. "Oh wait," you said.

She looked at you in question before you added, "Do you want to switch? I can mix the cream and you can pipe the macarons."

Nodding in agreement, she said with an awkward laugh, "Yeah, I think that would be better."

After putting the macarons inside the oven, you decided to initiate a conversation to make the atmosphere less awkward, "Have you already decided who you're giving these to?" 

Chaewon thought of an answer, "I'll most likely give it to my members," she said with a grin forming, "I think our maknae would love it."

You nodded, smiling at her answer, "Oh Manchae? You should also give her some of the cookies that we baked earlier," you looked through the small window of the kitchen to the counter that displays the pastries, "There's still a lot left from the batch that we made."

Chaewon agreed with a smile, but it slowly faltered, remembering that you aren't as kind as you act. "If she could say all those things about me, what's stopping her from bashing our maknae?" She thought, and immediately felt protective of her member.

"How about you?" You looked at her in question before she added, "Do you have anyone in mind who would be interested in receiving pastries from the most charming Y/N?"

Chaewon was being sarcastic but you were pretty oblivious and blushed at her words, "Uh, I might give them to my friend, Jung— KimLip from LOONA," you said before adding, "She celebrated her birthday recently and I could give this as a gift."

The short-haired girl nodded, not really caring about your answer. Yeah, she definitely didn't feel anything when you mentioned that you were giving your pastries to a very pretty idol. No, that would be absurd.

After wrapping up the shoot, the both of you thanked all of the staff for their hard work and you immediately grabbed a bag of some pastries that you personally baked earlier while Chaewon was in charge of manning the counter.

You looked around to find her but she had already left the studio. You went to look for her and saw her inside her dressing room alone. "Chaewon," you said with a smile, remembering how she told you to talk to her comfortably earlier during the shoot, "Here, you should take this home for your members, I'm sure they'll like it."

The girl smiled at you and took the bag from your grasp, "Thank you," she said sweetly, but suddenly the facade wore off. Chaewon dropped her smile as well as the bag and the pastries scattered on the floor, "But no thanks."

You stood there in shock. You didn't know how to respond; her whole demeanor changed and it felt like the Chaewon you just worked with was gone. "I—"

"Y/N," Chaewon started calmly but the venom in her tone was more than evident and it made you uncomfortable, "The camera is gone, we don't have to act like we like each other anymore so I suggest you take your trash and leave."

Chaewon felt so powerful as she let those words out, she wanted to pat herself on the shoulder for telling you off which she wanted to do ever since she overheard you talking crap about her. But after seeing the look on your face, she felt a pit on her stomach and she found it weird. Shouldn't she be relieved? Why was she feeling more upset? She convinced herself that it's because you looked upset when clearly she had every right to be upset at you.

You remained unmoving as Chaewon grabbed her stuff and left. You could feel the tears welling up as you looked at the scattered pastries on the floor, including the brownies that Chaewon stepped on when she was leaving.

It was absolutely humiliating. You felt so helpless. During the shoot, you thought that the both of you vibed with each other but it turns out that you didn't. Kim Chaewon was such a fake.

You went out of the room and went into yours to grab your stuff before leaving. You took out the phone from your pocket before texting your friend.

Unnie, I have something for you :) Are you free rn?

Not a minute later, she replied.

Yeah, I'm at Heejin's apartment with Hyunjin. Come over, the girls miss you

You went straight to Heejin's apartment and as you arrived at her door, it swung open even before ringing the bell. "Y/N! You're here!" Heejin greeted you, engulfing you in a hug.

Jungeun approached the both of you and said, "You made it." You went to wrap the girl in an embrace before saying, "Happy Birthday, unnie. I got you some of your favorites."

The three of you went to the dining area where Hyunjin was waiting, "You brought food?" she asked cheekily before Jungeun answered her, "Yes but it's for me!"

"Don't worry, Hyunjin," You said with a smile, "I got you some bread that I baked." Hyunjin perked up and approached you to grab the bag from your hold. Heejin studied your face as she noticed something different.

"Did something happen?" She asked suddenly and the two LOONA members looked at her in question. "I had a schedule earlier where I had to bake some pastries."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain your puffy eyes," Heejin replied, the girls then looked at you and that's when they realized that Heejin was right.

You were just about to reply to her when her doorbell rang again. Hyunjin looked at Heejin before asking, "Are you expecting anyone else?"

She shook her head, "No." Heejin stood from her seat and approached the front door. Suddenly excited screams were heard and you immediately recognized the surprise guest before she even arrived at the dining area.

"Hi everyone!" Yena said with a grin that reached her eyes. Everyone greeted her back and they all engaged in small talks. You thought that you finally escaped the previous interrogation until Jungeun brought it up.

"Now Yena is going to hear about it too," you thought. You took a deep breath before telling your side of the story.

To say that Yena was surprised was an understatement. The LOONA members weren't close with Chaewon so they didn't have a say on the issue but Yena worked closely with her; they were literally roommates back when IZ*ONE was active. Chaewon was definitely not that kind of person. She looked at you sympathetically, because she knew that you couldn't have made that story up. Yena knew Chaewon but she knows you too; you trained with her in Pledis with Heejin and Hyunjin. Yena knew that something was wrong so she decided that she will ask Chaewon about it later.

A week later, Chaewon was practicing with her members when a sudden loud voice was heard inside the practice room, "Le Sserafim what's up?!" Yena greeted each of the members, almost tackling Sakura to the ground with a hug. Chaewon smiled at her former member and went to hug her as well.

"Unnie! What are you doing here?" Chaewon asked Yena as they separated from each other. Suddenly Yena smacked the back of the leader's head before replying, "To talk to you! I needed information from the source."

When their instructor gave them an hour break, Chaewon led Yena to the cafe in HYBE. They both took a seat and Chaewon looked at Yena expectantly, "So, what did you want to know?"

Yena took a sip from her cup before taking Chaewon off guard, "What's the problem between you and Y/N?" The short-haired girl almost choked on her drink when Yena mentioned you.

"Y/N?" Chaewon looked at Yena in surprise, "How did you know that we have a problem?"

Yena shrugged and said, "She was about to open it up to some of our LOONA friends when I arrived, so I heard about it."

"It shocked me a lot because I know you wouldn't do something like that, but I also know that Y/N wouldn't make up stories to ruin your image." Chaewon laughed sarcastically before saying, "She wouldn't make up stories to ruin my image but she'll definitely talk shit about me to her friends."

Yena was confused by what her friend said so she inquired, "Did she lie about what happened after the shoot?" Chaewon shook her head, "No, it's true. But I only did it in retaliation."

"What do you mean?" Yena was more lost than ever. Chaewon sighed before answering, "I overheard Y/N talking shit about me when I was about to pass by her dressing room in Inkigayo."

"I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe it wasn't her but when I checked inside, she was there talking to her friend from The Boyz." Yena looked at her with creased brows, "Who? Sunwoo?" Chaewon nodded and the older girl asked, "What did she say?"

Chaewon tried to remember the things that you said, "She told him about how the face that I make annoys her." Yena facepalmed herself, "So she said that 'Chaewon is annoying' is that right?"

The younger girl nodded and Yena wanted to smack her friend so badly, "Chaewon," she started, "You do realize that you're not the only Chaewon in the world, right?"

The short-haired girl rolled her eyes before answering, "I know, but who else would she be referring to? Our group just finished performing and I was even one of the ending fairies."

"Chaewon," Yena made sure to explain this to her friend calmly because she doesn't know how she would react to it, "Y/N's best friends are TBZ's Sunwoo and LOONA's Gowon," she said, studying the girl's face, but it seems like Chaewon still didn't understand what she was implying.

"The three of them are almost always present during each other's promotions," Chaewon looked at her friend in question, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Gowon's birth name is Chaewon."

Then everything crumbled at once. Chaewon's stomach dropped and the bad feeling she felt that never went away since she confronted you a week ago just got worse. Her thoughts were spiraling in her head.

She remembered the show you shot together, how you took care of her, how you made sure that she didn't do any of the challenging tasks, how you made sure to clean her up when she splattered the cream all over herself, how you were so close to her that it made her heart beat ten times faster, how you smiled at her when you gave her the bag of pastries that you worked hard on only for her to drop it on the floor and stepped on some of them, she remembered the look on your face when she acted like a total bitch to you, thinking that her actions were reasonable and that it was all your fault.

Yena could see the look of utter defeat on her friend's face, and she knew that she couldn't do anything at the moment to help her friend feel better. No, Chaewon will beat herself up knowing that she acted the way she did when you didn't do anything wrong.

And she's right. Chaewon felt like absolute shit because she remembered everything that you did for her and how she repaid your kindness. She fucked everything up.

: should i write a part 2 for this?

[yuesya]

The low murmur of conversation in the background is a constant hum, the hustle and bustle of passerby a familiar sight in the lively streets during nighttime. This isn’t his first time in Sendai, although this would be the first time that–

“Suguru!”

“Finally done, Shiki?” Geto Suguru looks up from where he’s typing bullet notes for his mission report on his phone; he’ll properly write things out and submit it later once he has time. “Have you decided where you want to eat for–”

He pauses, cutting himself off in the middle of his own words. Blue eyes blink guilelessly at him in apparent confusion… but Suguru knows better than to buy that act.

He raises an eyebrow. “… Is there anything that you’d like to fill me in on, Satoru?”

Satoru –and there’s no mistaking that this is Satoru, despite the hair extensions and vaguely feminine manner of dress– pouts. “Aww, how’d you guess? I didn’t even say anything yet!”

Suguru rolls his eyes, and a surge of something that’s a mixture between fond and exasperated rises inside his chest. He can’t really explain it –outwardly, there’s not much in terms of appearance that clearly indicates when it’s Satoru and when it’s Shiki in charge of the body. Yaga-gakucho and Shoko have both been fooled by the twins like this when they’re in the mood for mischief, multiple times over the years. But somehow, he’s never had the same problem. He just… knows.

(There’s something deep in his soul that always, always recognizes who the one currently smiling and laughing beside him is. Always.)

“The bag of kikufuku hanging over your wrist,” is what Suguru responds instead, even though all three of them know that it’s a blatant lie. Neither of the twins are about to call him out on it, though, and Suguru doesn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed by the knowledge. He forcibly shoves the stray thought aside. “I don’t think Shiki would’ve given that a second glance.”

“That’s because she has no taste,” Satoru sniffs.

“No, it’s because you just have a sweet tooth,” Suguru deadpans, to which the other young man petulantly sticks out his tongue at him, before both of them laugh. “… Did you really switch out with each other just for the kikufuku?”

“Hey, kikufuku is great! I’ve been wanting to get another one of these ever since the last time I had a mission around Sendai,” Satoru shakes the bag in his hand for emphasis. “But no, it’s not just the kikufuku. It’s… well. Shiki and I played rock-paper-scissors with each other and I lost because she’s a cheater, so now I’m the one who gets to talk to you about this! Lucky me, I guess. It’s…”

… He’s rambling. Satoru is brilliant, and he has the tendency to go on tangents when explaining things –another reason why he’s not the teacher for first year students– but this doesn’t quite seem like that. If anything, Suguru would say that Satoru almost looks nervous, which can’t be right. There’s what looks to be a faint flush on his cheeks, too, but that might just be a trick of the nighttime lighting and nearby street lights.

He frowns in concern, leaning forward. “Satoru, is something wrong?”

“No! Nope, there’s nothing wrong.” Satoru takes in a deep breath. “I… there’s something we need to tell you. Suguru, we–”

At that precise moment, Suguru’s phone starts ringing.

“… Are you kidding me? Isn’t this the sort of thing that only happens in TV dramas?”

“Hang on,” Suguru says apologetically, and picks up the call. Normally, he would immediately just mute his phone and listen to whatever it was that Satoru had to say, especially since it seemed important, but this was also important. This was Suguru’s ringtone for Megumi, and Megumi was off on his first wholly unsupervised mission (“It’s just checking up on some seals! Go finish your own mission and get dinner with that white-haired idiot afterwards or something!”). In all likelihood, the boy had probably just finished his assignment and needed Suguru to go pick him up, so–

“Hello? Megumi?” Suguru raises his cell phone to his ear.

“—sensei… sawa… high school. There’s… students … --ade one–!”

Megumi’s words are garbled by static and deafening sounds of something crashing in the background, distorting his voice. But there was no hiding the panic, the plea for help, and if Suguru wasn’t mistaken–

“I need to go.” Suguru looks up into a pair of cursed blue eyes focused intently on him, and finds nothing but understanding; Megumi is as much Satoru’s and Shiki’s as he is Suguru’s own, and knowing them the two had probably deciphered more from that jumbled message than Suguru did. “Megumi is in trouble.”

Satoru nods, and holds out his hand. “Dinner can wait. I heard him mention Sugisawa Municipal High School; want a lift?”

“Please.”

Suguru reaches out and grips his hand, and the two of them immediately make for a deserted alleyway, one that’s out of eyesight. The instant Suguru follows Satoru into the shadows, his friend’s hold on him tightens, and the world around them disappears in the blink of an eye.

[freemansgirl]

so, you got a boyfriend?

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: sfw

words: 2.8k

summary: amber hits up reader on her phone, pretending to be a guy from her class so she can see if reader is single to get closer to her and take her on a date. (there’s lines from the iconic opening of scream in this. bold quotes signifies the lines used. based off of this tamber edit!! watch it for context please, it’s important to the plot)

warnings: jealousy-filled murder mentioned, stalking, obsessive and possessive behavior, amber being yandere-ish, amber kills for you

in the stillness of the night, you lay nestled in your cozy home, surrounded by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through your bedroom window. the eerily hum of distant city sounds of woodsboro lulled you into a dazed reverie as you gazed at the empty ceiling above your bed, eying the flat, smooth surface of it. you didn’t understand why your parents bothered moving to this place, there was nothing even special about it, it was dull, boring, and quiet…. too quiet at that. to make matters even worse, what didn’t help to make the city less creepy was the fact there were so many murders happening around here. that’s how you found yourself here, confined to your room with nothing to do... especially now that your parents have you in a safe place to prevent you from becoming ghostface’s next potential victim.

little do you know, the person who was causing all of these murders so happened to be outside of your window. it was no other than, amber freeman, one of your classmates from your art class that was focusing her dark brown eyes on your relaxed figure staring at the ceiling. she thought you were just so beautiful, it’s like the moment she first saw you, she had to make you hers. ever since, the teacher introduced you as the new girl to the class, she felt this strong feeling towards you.

she was continuously watching you to make sure you got home safely and to protect you from any ominous men in the alley, weird boys at school, and occasionally even girls if they made advances toward you. her body was overcome by a wave of overprotectiveness. she even killed a guy for you because he harassed you for your number, and stole his phone off of him so she can contact you. that’s how crazy she was for you, and how willing she was go to go extreme lengths for you. she frequently appeared below your window, concealing herself behind bushes while wearing her black ghostface outfit that blended in perfectly with the night sky to prevent detection.

the stalking started to turn into a daily habit, which led her to learn things about you, even personal things. she shouldn’t even be outside stalking you, and it’s a good thing richie didn’t even know that she had a crush on some new girl at her school. if he knew, he would try to kill you or even convince her to kill you… but that would be such a waste. you were too pretty to just die, she wanted you. once she obtained your phone number, she instantly felt happy because she would finally be able to call you, her dream girl.

suddenly, you hear your phone go off, the ring tone chirping from the phone’s lock screen while it vibrates against the sheets of your bed. the sound of the ringtone cutting abruptly through the peaceful, calming atmosphere that you were just in made you wonder who wants your attention. who could possibly be wanting to be calling you so randomly in the middle of the night? you grab the phone and turn it over just for it to be…. a random number calling you? at the sight of the random numbers showing on the screen, you let out a sigh while you stare at the phone with a blank expression, your thumb grazes over the decline button.

moving to an small, mysterious town and finding a private number ringing you immediately away—yeah that’s totally not unusual. you turn the phone over and don’t even bother with it. since that ruined your mood of peace, you decided to go downstairs to fix you some popcorn to prepare yourself for a movie to get things off of your mind.

amber wasn’t too happy about that, a frown was present on her face while she watched you ignore her calls. just who do you think you are seriously ignoring her calls? you weren’t doing much anyways, you were just some random teenager stuck at home on a normal night while her parents were away. so she calls you again, pressing her finger to the call button to send the call your way.

that’s when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket, the vibration sending chills down your spine. the sound danced from soft to loud, starting as a faint jingle before swelling into a vibrant melody that demanded attention. you pull out the phone again, it was just that same number calling you. each ring carried a sense of urgency, beckoning that you respond to the call that awaited you on the other end. you begin to press the answer button as you hold the phone to your ear, before speaking.

“hello, who is this?”

“can’t tell you that much, sweetheart, but what i can tell you is that you got a nice voice.”

on the other side of the phone, you heard a masculine, deep voice. their voice had this weird feeling to it, there was something off about it like it was robotic or fake... it just didn’t feel quite right. it’s as if it could’ve been a voice moderator so therefore this person could clearly be hiding behind a fake voice… not their own… how odd. but who in their right mind would even use a voice moderator in this day and age to talk to someone? even if it was a voice moderator, the fact that it has an attractive voice doesn’t help either.

you began to snap yourself out of these crazy, dumb conspiracy theories so you don’t freak yourself out. maybe it was one of those dumb guys at school playing a prank on you. boys being boys, perhaps?

as weird as this was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself blushing and smile while your cheeks begin to warm up. you timidly tuck a hair strand behind your ear, feeling shy from the sudden compliment. just who is this person and why are they even complimenting you? and why are you getting so giddy from a complete stranger at that?

“um, thank you. i appreciate the compliment, but i think you got the wrong number. i’m going to hang up now, have a nice night.” you speak out, trying to end the conversation before things get further. everything about this phone call was just so sudden and random, there is no way they meant to call you and talk to you. you begin to press the decline button wanting to just finish the conversation but the voice talks again, distracting you.

“wait, wait! don’t hang up!” amber exclaims into the phone, her eyes watching from her eyeholes of her mask at the scene of you about to decline her call again. she starts to get frantic and upset because now she may never hear your voice again. she’s doing all that she can to persuade you, as best as possible, so you don’t hang up. she gave you a compliment and made you blush now you wanna end the conversation? god, you were just hard to please. you let out an annoyed huff when you see how persistent and whiny the voice is acting towards you. “okay, fine, i won’t hang up…. just who is this, exactly?”

the unknown voice doesn’t even bother to respond to you, ignoring the question. it was pretty clear they weren’t going to tell you too much based on the answer they gave you when you asked who they were the first time. you should’ve known better to not even ask again. it seems they just want to keep their presence unknown and not reveal themselves. very, very suspicious. “let me guess, are you the guy from my math class that asked me out for my number today? ethan, was it?”

“bingo, sweet thing. that’s right.” amber replied, going along with what you’re saying, clearly making a lie. the lie was so stupidly funny that it was taking everything in her to not break character by laughing. the fact that you simply believed her was just naive and she loved it. the guy that you think that you are talking to is actually dead, he’s not even alive. she’s just taking over and pretending to be him to simply get closer to you.

the beeping from the microwave starts to get your attention, which makes you go run to it so you can get your popcorn out of there. “what’s up with the noise in the background?” amber asked, clearly playing dumb like she doesn’t see you getting popcorn out of the microwave. “it’s just popcorn, that’s all.” you replied, pouring it into a bowl, watching the popcorn fill inside of it. you start to carry the bowl towards your room, beginning to sit on your bed. you grabbed the remote to the tv in your room, turning it on to find your favorite horror movie to watch.

“popcorn? are you about to watch something?” the raven hair girl replied back to your comment. she watched you turn the tv on, wondering what you were planning to watch now. “yes. i’m going to watch a horror movie, right about now. could we continue this conversation another time?” you said, still clearly not interested in the conversation and just wanted to be left alone. your parents would be so pissed at you if they found out you were sitting on the phone talking to some stranger. they warned you so many times about how the ghostface murders have always started with a random phone call, but you just assumed it was one of the many guys from school who wanted your number. that ethan guy did say he was going to call you tonight, but you didn’t take him seriously until now.

“oh? a horror movie? could it be… (favorite horror movie)?” “ethan” replied back, ignoring your request on ending the conversation. “he” just wasn’t going to quit, was “he”? you started to feel yourself getting really shocked, feeling excitement in your face when you heard the voice guess your favorite horror movie. suddenly, the conversation felt interesting to you, maybe ethan wasn’t so bad? you wanted to give “him” a chance. “what? how did you know it was that one?? that’s my favorite!” you beamed, a smile stretching across your lips when you heard your favorite horror movie being mentioned.

“just a hunch, i guess.” amber smirked, knowing damn well she was lying about it being a “hunch”. when stalking you for quite some time in previous nights, she figured out your favorite horror movie, just like she figured out majority of your favorite things. she was feeling quite proud of herself when she watched how giddy you were acting at the sound of her mentioning it. just a second ago, you didn’t even wanna talk to her but now you’re suddenly all up and bubbly to discuss with her. she was slowly starting to win you over.

after moments of discussing your favorite horror movie, you began to feel more and more comfortable with this “guy”. you hate to admit it, but… a small crush was forming and it was crazy because you only known “him” for such a small amount of time. you never smiled or laughed this hard from someone in this fucked up town. it felt nice to have this moment right about now. amber started to speak up, so she can change the subject. “so, you got a boyfriend?”

when you were asked that question, you begin to blush and were left a little speechless at the sudden subject change. “why? you wanna ask me out on a date?” you giggled, playfully twirling a piece of your hair like schoolgirl talking to her crush for the first time. “maybe… do you have a boyfriend?” amber responded, a little bit of stern adding to her tone, clearly trying to get an answer out of you to see what you will say. she needed to know this because she hated seeing all of these annoying guys around you, it was so unbearable. she needed to know if you were single to make you hers once and for all. even if you weren’t single, she could make you by simply killing any potential crush of yours or secret admirers that look in your way.

“no.” you speak, shaking your head behind the phone. at the sound of that, amber felt so much happiness and excitement inside of her body at that response. she definitely had to make you hers somehow and someway, she’ll figure it out soon. “you never told me your name.” she announced, still trying to keep up the play pretend act of being some guy that asked you out. she acted as if she didn’t see your name saved in this phone on the big, bright phone screen but she had to stay in character to earn your trust.

“why do you wanna know my name?”

there was another giggle that escaped your lips, you pressed your hand to your mouth to hide more laughter to situation. you started to just mess around with the “guy” at this point, just wanting to play stupid. you clearly knew why “he” wanted to know your name, it’s because “he” was obviously interested in you. however, a part of you was confused because you could’ve sworn you told ethan your name when he impatiently asked for your number…. unless he forgot? he was in a hurry to get to his next class after all, when he was speaking to you.

“cause i want to know who i’m looking at.”

the smile on your face instantly dropped, causing you to freak out internally, a million of thoughts racing in your head. your gut instinct told you to check the windows since you were in your bedroom and that’s the only way someone could really see you. all of the doors in the house were locked and the windows downstairs had curtains closed, so theres no reason to bother going downstairs to check on everything. you hop out of your bed immediately to go run to see if theres anyones outside… just for no one to be there. you see, amber is always just one small step ahead of you.

she’s been behind the bushes outside of your window, never moved out of her own spot to go directly in front of the window. she’d be a complete idiot if she did that. at the sound of hearing your frantic footsteps run to get out of bed and you not seeing anything, thats when amber spoke up.

“made you look.” she sneered, causing you get to get upset at the fact that she was clearly playing a prank on you just to scare you. “all of this talk about horror movies we just had, and you still fell for this? if i wanted to know who i was looking at, don’t you think i’d make myself known by taking you out on a lovely date soon instead of hiding behind this phone call…?”

this “guy” just scared the absolute shit out of you and all “he” could talk about was a date? wow, talk about a total jerk, right? you started to roll your eyes, not pleased with the amount of terror that just came through your body. you start to get visibly annoyed, which amber can see from her stalking spot, loving your reactions to this. you ended up closing the curtains to your window so no one could see you now. now, amber wasn’t the happiest when she saw that you did that, she could feel a pout come onto her face because now she couldn’t admire you.

“a date, really? you don’t even know my own name. this is not very funny, i’m hanging up.” you huff, about to press to decline button until the voice comes through again.

“wait, so no date? i could just learn it through text or even at the date! cmon, i’m sorry, let me make it up to you…” amber pleaded through the phone, a sweet smile behind that mask hoping you would forgive her. she couldn’t hold back from doing this, you looked way too adorable when scared, just as she thought you’d look. you begin to give in and just sighed at the response. “fine. if i go on a date with you, will you hang up?”

“it’s a done deal.”

after a while, you and “ethan” started texting. it wasn’t that hard for amber to convince you that she was ethan by sending selfies of him off his phone to you. you did actually ended up giving “him” your name just so “he” can make plans for the date. on a random day after school, you ended up going to the cafe “he” told you to meet up with him at….. just for you to end up waiting a while for “him”. he never did show up, leaving you stranded all alone at the empty table booth. it’s such a shame because you didn’t even pay attention to the news to know what truly happened to him. however, to make light of the fact you got stood up, you did end up meeting a really, really cute girl named amber at the cafe…

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part Two

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part Two Word Count: 3.6k+

STORY PAGE

26 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Releasing her hands from the keyboard, Bronwyn sat back in her chair with a sigh. She’d done it. The NPR review was completed; and after being edited and submitted for approval, it was now live. It had been a daunting task to write about someone she despised. But after a long, restless night, and heaps of caffeine, she’d managed to get something produced. Despite her inner voice wanting to express exactly what she thought of him, her article on Harry Styles was at the very least an unbiased one, if not a positive one.

Satisfied with her work, and glad to finally put it to rest, Bronwyn decided to get some rest of her own. Closing her laptop, she took a trip to the loo before settling under the piles of blankets on her bed. She’d barely closed her eyes, however, when she heard the all-familiar ringtone come from her cell on the nightstand. The screen announced it was Antonella calling, and had it been anyone else, she would have turned off the ringer and told whomever it was to piss off, albeit silently. But because it was her vivacious agent, she knew it was a pertinent call.

“Congratulations, darling!” Antonella declared as soon as Bronwyn pressed the speaker. “I knew you had it in you!”

“Thanks,” Bronwyn smirked as she shifted herself on her pillow.

“I assume your conflict of interest was sorted out?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“No? Well, I’m glad you put aside whatever differences you had, at least for the time being. I’m looking at the beautiful photos you took, and the fellow is...how do you say…”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Bronwyn interrupted.

“Didn’t what?”

“Say anything about how he looks.”

“Bronwyn!” Antonella tsked before lowering her voice to a hushed tone. “You had relations with this young man, no?”

“No. Not exactly,” Bronwyn muttered.

She could hear her agent breathing as she was obviously waiting for more juicy details. But Bronwyn wasn’t at liberty nor in the mood to give any.

“Fine then, I won’t press,” Antonella promised. “It’s over and done. Just called to tell you what a fabulous job you did.”

“Better than Dennis, huh?” Bronwyn chided.

Antonella snorted. “If I didn’t adore you so much, I’d tell you to fuck off.”

Bronwyn giggled. “The feeling’s mutual, love.”

Pressing the button to disconnect the call, Bronwyn noticed a notification for a missed one. It wasn’ a number she recognised, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She was used to receiving calls about various jobs or from websites or magazines, so it was difficult to really screen her calls. The caller, however, didn’t leave a message, so she turned off her phone and situated herself into her own warm cocoon before drifting off to sleep.

The early afternoon sun shone through the flimsy curtains and awoke Bronwyn like an unwelcomed acquaintance. With a deep yawn and a stretch, she kicked off the blankets and reached for her phone, turning it back on. Before she could even check the time, the screen alerted her of two more missed calls from that same number that had rung earlier, but still had left no voicemail. Whomever they were, they were persistent but still wished to remain anonymous. Bronwyn considered just ringing them back, but first, nature called.

After a stop in the bathroom, she padded to her small kitchen with another yawn, prepared to make a pot of coffee. When she opened the cupboard, however, she was reminded that she’d used the rest of what she’d had the night before. With a groan, she settled for tea which wouldn’t quite satisfy, but would have to do. Just as she set the kettle on the stove, the phone that she’d left on her bed sounded its chime. Seeing the mystery caller’s number again, she decided to answer.

“‘Ello?”

“Bronwyn?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Thank God,” he said, exasperated. “I’ve been trying to get you all day.”

“I’m sorry. Who is this?”

The mystery caller gave a deep chuckle, and before he could give his name, Bronwyn knew who it was.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s Harry Styles.”

“Harry.” That was it. Just his first name. No hi or hello. No good to hear from you or glad you called. Just Harry. A statement, even, not a question.

“Hi,” he greeted. “How are you?”

“I’m...okay. Uh...how’d you get my number?”

Harry chuckled again which made Bronwyn clench her teeth.

“I have my ways.”

Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

“I got it through NPR. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I guess not,” she muttered.

“I suppose I should tell you why I’m calling. I saw your article online, and I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure why she should’ve been surprised. It was about him. Of course he’d read it.

“Yeah, it was really well-done, and your photos were excellent.”

“Thanks,” said Bronwyn, nonchalantly as she traced the pattern on one of her blankets.

“Also, I’m…” Harry hesitated. “I’m also calling for another reason.”

“You are?”

“It was really good to see you again, and I hated that you had to leave in a rush.”

“Well, you know, those articles don’t write themselves,” Bronwyn remarked sarcastically.

Harry giggled then, making Bronwyn want to throw something. She looked around the bed, but only found a discarded empty tissue box. It made an insignificant thud as it hit the bathroom door frame.

“I’d like to thank you properly, Bronwyn,” said Harry. “I’m in New York now. I’ll be here for the rest of the week. Can we meet somewhere? For dinner or drinks?”

Nearly dropping her phone at his inquiry, Bronwyn jumped as the kettle began to whistle.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry,” Bronwyn replied in a rush as she reached for the stove. “I don’t-.”

“I know you’re probably busy, but I’d love to catch up. It’s been so long and...I’d hate to know we’re in the same city, and I can’t even say hello.”

Bronwyn gave a saucy laugh. “I thought that’s why you called.”

“I mean in person,” said Harry, still not catching on to her tone. “Doesn’t have to be dinner. Just coffee, if that suits.”

The warm kettle in her hand, Bronwyn remembered how badly she’d wanted coffee. She’d still have to get dressed to go fetch it, but at least she could go to her favourite cafe and have some company…

Wait. Am I really considering this?, she thought.

“Please?” she heard him ask.

Well, she was right about one thing. The mystery caller was persistent. That only added to the long list of other adjectives she had going for him like deceitful, fake, obnoxious and contemptuous, although admittedly that list also included charming, handsome and talented. With a sigh of surrender, she poured the hot water out into the sink.

“The Corner Cafe,” she said. “I’ll meet you there. Four o’clock okay with you?”

“It’s fine. What corner is it on?”

“Google it,” ordered Bronwyn. “That’s the name of the cafe.”

“Not a very original name.”

Managing to crack a smile, Bronwyn opened her bureau and pulled out a pair of jeans and a jumper.

“Four o’clock, Harry. See you then.”

Pressing the button to hang up before he could say anything else, Bronwyn dropped her phone on the bed next to the clothes she’d just picked out and turned for the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bronwyn?” she asked herself aloud as she stepped into the shower. “You have gone and lost your mind.”

Despite the bright, cloudless day, there was still a brisk chill in the air. Bronwyn pulled the collar of her coat up, wishing she’d brought her hat and scarf. Fortunately, the walk to the Corner Cafe was short, and she arrived well before time to meet Harry. Ordering her favourite latte, she decided on a chicken salad sandwich as well, since she hadn’t anything to eat after her long nap. Choosing a table in the corner by the window, she shrugged out of her coat, placing it on the back of the chair. Biting into her sandwich, she saw a small crowd form just outside. She wondered what the commotion was about until a girl turned around with her hand over her mouth, her phone in her hand.

It was not uncommon for Bronwyn to see a celebrity or two on the street. Granted, it was not an everyday occurrence, but she’d walked by a few since living in New York. Just last week she saw Jimmy Fallon and his wife at a pizza joint she frequented. Even being somewhat in the business, she still got starstruck from time to time. What she did not do, however, was disturb a celebrity when they were having dinner or even stop them on the street to ask for a selfie. She adored her privacy, and tried to respect others’. She wondered how famous people handled it all. She reckoned she’d go mad.

Within minutes, by the time she’d just about finished the first half of her sandwich, the crowd dispersed and a tall figure in a black hoodie turned and made his way to the cafe door. When the bell jingled, Bronwyn looked up from her latte to see him pause and scan the room. Their eyes connecting, he smiled with a small wave of his hand before walking up to the counter to place his order. Bronwyn took in his appearance - a black hoodie, black sweats and black trainers. She wondered how on earth anyone had recognised him at all. Perhaps it was the large pink tote bag he was carrying on his shoulder. She snorted to herself, taking another bite from her sandwich. Grateful the cafe was somewhat empty except for a couple of people hastily typing away on their laptops, she waited as Harry received his beverage and strolled towards her.

“I promise I tried my best to be on time,” he declared, his free hand on his chest.

“You are,” remarked Bronwyn. “I was early.”

“Ah!” Harry nodded, placing his cup on the table across from her.

She caught the look on his face as he paused again, clearly waiting for her to rise for a hug or kiss on the cheek. When she didn’t, he bit his lip, removed the bag from his shoulder and sat down.

“You look lovely,” he said.

For a second, Bronwyn was about to look down at her rose coloured jumper when she remembered his comment was probably automatic, and not necessarily sincere. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore or dismiss a compliment.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“Sorry I look like a right slob. I was hoping to look inconspicuous.”

Bronwyn couldn’t help but smirk. “Didn’t work out for you, no?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Bronwyn shrugged. “I might’ve caught something through the window.”

Harry’s shoulders shook as she chuckled low. “Could’ve been worse. At least it was just a few.”

“I couldn’t stand it,” Bronwyn shook her head as she wiped her hands on the napkin. “I dunno how you do it.”

“You get used to it.”

“I doubt it. I value my privacy too much.”

Harry was quiet as Bronwyn pushed aside her nearly empty plate and took a sip from her latte. She eyed his ringed fingers as they picked up his own drink and brought it to his lips.

“So, how’ve you been?” he finally asked, setting down his cup.

“You asked me that already.”

“When?” Harry raised a brow.

“Yesterday. Unless you meant, how’ve I been since then.”

Harry smirked and shook his head. “No, I guess not. I reckon I’m just interested in what you’ve been doing since...I saw you last.”

“Are you really?” Bronwyn asked flatly.

“Of course. You live here in New York now,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“And you still take photos.”

“Yeah.”

“And you do freelance work.”

“Yep.”

“What else?”

Bronwyn pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s...pretty much it.”

“Oh, c’mon, there must be something else,” argued Harry as he leant forward. “Tell me more about you.”

Trying not to roll her eyes at him, Bronwyn sighed.

“I…” she began, holding her arms out at her sides, “still look the same.”

“Yeah, you do,” Harry grinned widely. “That’s why I recognised you so quickly. Your hair might be a wee bit shorter, maybe a little darker…”

“Hmm…” Bronwyn pondered.

“No cute, short dress or boots though,” Harry added, taking a peek under the table.

A laugh left Bronwyn’s throat before she could stop it, and one from Harry soon followed. She felt the blush in her cheeks and quickly cleared her throat.

“You still into the vintage stuff?” Harry asked.

“Of course. I just don’t regularly parade around in it at four o’clock on a Wednesday. In February.”

Harry giggled again, his eyes squinting.

Please stop doing that, Bronwyn thought. This is hard enough for me without you being so...ugh.

She didn’t want to admit that she still found him so incredibly attractive. Years may have separated their last encounter, but it wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen his face since that night. Despite her persistence in trying to avoid having anything to do with One Direction, they had been a massively popular band. When she’d heard of their split, followed by the buzz of Harry’s rising solo career, she’d continued to keep her distance as much as possible. Sat across from him now in a quiet cafe, his green eyes trying their best to read hers, the memories of seven years ago came flooding back.

“That reminds me,” announced Harry, interrupting her thoughts. “I brought you something.”

Raising her brows in question, Bronwyn watched Harry pick up the tote bag by his feet and hand it to her.

“I remember how you prefer vinyl, so I thought you might like that,” he added.

Taking the bag from him, Bronwyn hesitantly opened it and pulled out an album, Harry’s pointing pose adorning the front cover.

“This is your album,” she frowned.

“You don’t have a copy already, do you?”

“No. I actually listened to it on Spotify.”

“Oh. Good, then,” Harry grinned.

���Thanks,” Bronwyn commented dryly. “Do you...um...want the tote bag back?”

“No, no. I brought that for you to carry it in. So you won’t be walking home with my face under your arm,” he laughed.

“How thoughtful.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she hung the tote on the back of her chair. Looking back at him, she caught the deep frown on his face before he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. No doubt she had hurt his feelings, or at least bruised his ego a bit. But she didn’t care. She found it utterly conceited of him to assume she’d want a copy of his record. But then...of course he did. That’s why he was there with her. It was all about the article she’d written about him. His music. His album. How stupid she was to even consider anything else.

“Well um...I’m glad you liked my article,” she said, trying to soften the blow a bit, and also hopefully end their meeting soon.

“I did,” Harry nodded, lowering his cup. “But that’s not really why I called you. I said that, right?”

“Why did you?”

A smile twitching at his lips, Harry leant forward again. “You think I call everyone who writes something about me?”

Oh fuck off, are you joking?

“You mean, you don’t?” Bronwyn asked, playing his game.

Harry laughed, resting his chin in his hand. “Bronwyn, love. What happened that night?”

“What night?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry scoffed. “What’dya mean, what night? The night. The film premiere. You and I.”

“It’s you and me,” Bronwyn corrected. “Why do people always get that wrong?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I had to leave,” she answered softly.

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Something came up.”

“What something?”

Her eyes involuntarily began to water, and she looked around the room. “Can we not talk about this now? It was a long time ago.”

Harry stared at her for what felt like minutes as she finished the last sips of her coffee. Finally resolving to the fact that she wasn’t going to give him a legitimate answer, he sat back with a sigh.

“Alright then.”

“Right,” Bronwyn agreed. “So, if we’re done, I do need to get home. I have some work to do.”

Harry didn’t bother to hide the disappointed look on his face this time. He rose from his chair as Bronwyn stood and grabbed the tote bag and her coat. He startled her when he took her coat from her and held it out for her to slip her arms inside.

“Thank you,” she barely whispered, looking at the ground. “And thanks for the...um...vinyl.”

“You’re welcome. I’d hoped to buy you coffee and perhaps something to eat, but you’d beat me to it.”

“Sorry,” she managed a shy grin. “I was hungry. I’d slept all day, what with being up all night writing. That’s why I came early. I wasn’t expecting you to...I mean, you didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry grinned back. “Well...I hate to say goodbye, Bronwyn. But it really was good to see you. I hope it’s not another...seven years until we meet again.”

Giving a tight smile, Bronwyn nodded. “Well, goodbye, Harry. Take care.”

This time she allowed him a short embrace as he kissed her cheek. Then he held the door open as she slipped outside into the cold air. Harry said another goodbye before shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Bronwyn strode swifty down the sidewalk until coming to a stop, turning only to watch him pull his hood over his head and cross the street before wiping her wet eyes and walking the rest of the way home.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Nah, nah nah, nah nah nah nah!

Bronwyn giggled as she swayed against Harry’s body as he stood behind her, his arms wound around her while her own waved high in the air. The entire room had decided to join in a chorus of the Beatles’ “Hey Jude”, and in their overt intoxicated state, she and Harry were happy to include themselves in the mix.

Bronwyn felt like she was on cloud nine. She’d been having the best time with Harry all evening. Not only was he cute and charming, as well as a bit cheeky, but he was also a gentleman, continuously asking if she was okay, if she needed anything. After several drinks and a raiding of the buffet, she was surprised that he had stuck around, never leaving her side except to go to the toilet. They chatted with several people throughout the night, including a couple of his bandmates, but mostly they just enjoyed each other’s company and getting to know each other.

By the time the song was over, Harry had his face in the crook of her neck. His breath gave her goosebumps, but she hoped to God he wouldn’t release her just yet.

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice low in her ear.

“Where?” she asked, her hands on his arms that were still around her.

“Somewhere...away from here.”

Unsure if he was being literal or figurative, Bronwyn grabbed his hand, loosening his grip. Turning to face him, she smiled up at his heavily hooded eyes.

“C’mon,” she beckoned, pulling in towards the door.

They made it out into the hallway, a set of lifts in front of them, two more hallways on either side.

“Which way, darling?” she asked him. “Take your pick.”

Tugging her arm, Harry chose the hallway on the left, guiding her to where exactly, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. She was just so happy to be with him, she would have followed him anywhere.

When they reached a closed door on the right, Harry stopped and tried the knob. Locked. Then he tried another. Locked as well.

“Bugger,” he scowled.

Bronwyn giggled, finding his pout fetching.

“I reckon they don’t want any hanky panky going on here,” she commented.

Harry glared at her, feigning shock. “Who said anything about hanky panky?”

“Oh please!” she ribbed, playfully poking him in the side.

“Heyyyy,” he laughed before pulling her closer.

Bronwyn stared at him as he beamed at her, flipping her insides so much it felt like a gymnastics team doing somersaults.

“Let’s see what’s down this way,” he urged, pulling her with him once again.

At the end of the hall was a small alcove. It wasn’t much, but no one was in view, and it was probably the best privacy they were going to get. Guiding her inside, Harry pressed her against the wall, his hands on her hips.

“I do kinda fancy you,” he confessed, his eyes dancing while his lips were so close to hers they almost touched.

“I kinda figured that out,” Bronwyn nodded with a smirk.

Another glorious smile spread across Harry’s face as Bronwyn slid her hands up his arms. He continued to stare at her, like he was examining every feature of her face, piece by piece. She liked the way he looked at her, but the fire that had already ignited down below was now aflame.

“Only one thing I can’t figure out though, and it’s been driving me mad, Harry,” she added.

His eyebrows lifted in question as his perfect lips fell into a look of perplexity.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Why it’s taking you so bloody long to kiss me.”

What do you think of Harry and Bronwyn so far?? Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[nycbaby21]

Quinn Hughes Imagine

prompt: “I’m sorry. I just had to see you.“

word count: 1,865

The final buzzer of the game was normally met with cheers and excitement at Rogers Arena, but tonight it was filled with heavy sighs and disappointed fans. This was the third game in a row they had lost and you can see how frustrated the guys were getting. Not wanting to bother watching the sad and irritated post-game interviews, I lean over and turn off the tv. I had never been a huge hockey girl, that is until I moved to Vancouver for work and moved in next door to one of the Canucks. Many months ago when I was lugging boxes into the apartment building I bumped into the tall blonde with a huge smile. He immediately stopped what he was doing and helped with what would have taken me hours by myself. After a repayment meal and a lengthy conversation about how it was truly criminal, I had never been to a hockey game, a quick and solid friendship was made with Brock.

I made my way over to the kitchen and turned on the oven for some cookies. Normally when Brock and the guys have a hard game he usually ends up over at mine. He says it helps him because he doesn’t feel like being alone after. Recently some of the other guys have started coming along, which I actually really enjoy. I was so scared that I wouldn’t make friends and be so alone moving to a completely new country, but I feel like I am a member of the team with how many hockey players file in and out of my place. Sometimes they show up even when Brock isn’t around. 

My phone rings when I am placing the cookie sheet in the oven. I reach over and answer already knowing who it was. It was a running joke in our friendship that Brock looked like Prince Charming from Shrek, so his ringtone was quickly changed from the default one to I’m Too Sexy for My Shirt from the second movie. I can’t help but smile when I hear the sound. “Hey B,” I say trying to gauge his mood based on his facial features. It was too dark in his car for me to tell. “Hey y/n,” he sighs and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. A frown appears on my face before I could help it. I didn’t know what to say to make it better so we just sat in silence, a comfortable one. “I have a batch of your favorites in the oven waiting for you,” I tell him hoping to bring a small smile to the blonde’s face. A big sigh leaves his mouth,” I’m not coming home tonight. Remember that girl I went out with last week,” he starts and I nod,” Well she came to the game tonight and invited me over.”

“That’s okay Boes. I’ll just put them up for you and drop them by sometime tomorrow.” That seems to lift his mood the tiniest bit. “So… you are staying the night,” I smirk while raising my eyebrows ridiculously. He glances down at the phone seeing my face and busts out laughing. My work for the night was done by making my best friend smile after a tough night. “Grow up dork,” he laughs and soon his whole face lights up when he parks and reaches for the overhead lights. He quickly fiddles around the car grabbing his bag and then turning back to face me. “Okay well I’m here so I guess I see you when I see you,” he says getting out and heading towards her door. “Okay bye B. And hey at least you can say you scored tonight, the other guys can’t,” I say trying to hold a straight face but failing. “Oh, my god. I’m hanging up now. I actually hate you,” his words don’t match the beaming smile on his face. “Love you too,” I say while hanging up the phone. 

The quick beeps of the oven alert me to the cookies being done. As I plate the last couple I hear a knock on my door. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I wonder who it could be this late since Brock isn’t home. I head to the door quietly and peek through the peephole seeing one of his teammates. I stand back confused for one second and then quickly shake it off opening the door. I look up and meet the eyes of the last player I thought would show up after a bad game. Quinn Hughes stood in the hallway in his game-day suit and dripping hair. “Oh my gosh, Quinn. You must be freezing,” I rush to pull him into my apartment. “I’m sure I have something that will fit give me one second,” I say rushing off to my room and pulling out a pair of my dad’s old college sweats that I stole when I moved. I grab a random sweatshirt because almost all of mine are oversized anyway and find him in the same position I left him in. The only difference is the door is now closed and his hockey bag was on the floor.

“Okay, these should work. But if not I can always run over to Brock’s and grab something,” it looks like my words fall deaf on his ears because he hasn’t even looked at me the whole time I was talking. “Quinn, did you hear me? Are you okay,” I ask slowly walking towards him and trying to hand him the clothes. He finally lifts his head and I can see the tears in his beautiful eyes. “Oh Quinn,” I whisper as I take one final step forward and wrap my arms around him. Having known him for months now, I know Quinn isn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, especially with people he isn’t really all that close with. When I make it close enough to him, he collapses in my arms letting out soft sobs breaking my heart in the process. Quinn was the guy who always had everything together, and seeing him let down his walls was new territory for me.

Quickly circling my arms around the tall defencemen, I stand in the middle of my apartment with the boy letting all of my emotions out. I rub my hand up and down his back slowly and whisper small things to him like “It’s okay Quinn let it all out” and “I know I know.” My arms had gone numb five minutes ago but I was going to stay in his embrace until he pulled away. As if he had read my mind he shyly pulled away and looked down at me with red eyes. A stray tear falls down his cheek and without a second thought, I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb leaving my hand resting on his face. I go to pull it away feeling too intimate but he encircles my wrist with his hand and leans into mine more. A small smile faces upon my face accompanied by a red blush. Now was not the time to be thinking about how attractive I found him or how many times I had wished he would be the one to show up with Brock after a game.

“Wanna go sit down in the living room. I can turn something on or we can talk if you want to,” I speak gently eyes scanning his face. A small nod gives me his answer and I slip my hand from his cheek and lace our fingers together. After he left and changed I started getting him settled in the middle of my couch and I try to round the back of it to grab one of the thousands of throw blankets I have. His grip on my hand on tightens eyes jumping to look at me and figure out why I am leaving him. I laugh lightly and reach for the closest blanket and fall back into his embrace on the couch. I lean back into the corner of it and gently pull him back into me. He rests his head in the crook of my neck and I hesitantly run my fingers through his dark hair. He releases a small sound of enjoyment so I continue until my hand goes numb. 

Using the remote I turned on some Adam Sandler movie I had started the night before but fell asleep during. The only reason I even knew he was awake was when he let out a small laugh at the scene. My hand falls from his head when he looks up at me with childlike eyes. I swear even if he wasn’t so close he could have still heard my heartbeat increase. I sent him a smile and he returned it just as big. “Thank you,” his voice was rough from his recent tears. “You don’t have to thank me, Quinn.” He really didn’t need to thank me, I felt like I should be the one thanking him for letting me be the person he lets his walls down to. “Brock always talks about how you have these magical hugs. Like how after every win he feels so much better after hugging you in the halls, or how after every loss they make him feel just the smallest bit less shitty,” he says sitting up and looking anywhere but my eyes. I let out a laugh at this because I had heard Brock says this before, I’m sure everyone he has met has. “I’m sorry. I just had to see you and see if he was right,” he started,” and he was.” The smile that graced his face was one I wanted to freeze time for and just stare at it for a little longer.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help. You don’t have to be sorry either. I am actually so happy I finally got a hug from the huggy bear,” I laugh watching his face fill with blush as he laughs too. We stare at each other for a couple of minutes only breaking eye contact at one of the many random noises Adam Sandler makes. We settle back into the couch sitting shoulder to shoulder, feeling so content. Neither of us speaks, we just sit there on the couch enjoying each other's company and watching the ending of the movie. I hand him the remote to pick the next one and while his eyes drift across the screen looking for something, I let mine land on his face trying to memorize every small detail of it. I break my gaze when I hear the opening to Mighty Ducks and laugh at him. He shakes his head and smiles,” What, it’s a good movie.” I reach to fix the blanket on our legs when he stops me and looks over. “Do I smell cookies,” he questions laughing as his stomach grumbles. I nod jumping up and bringing him the container I was supposed to bring Brock. At that moment I didn’t even care that I would have to make more in the morning. The smile on Quinn’s face made it all feel worth it.

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

09: This Love

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 2.8k

warnings: Lando's pov, handritten is in italics, emails

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part

a/n: HELLO I hope no one hates me because of what I have done and what will happen :)

He was broken.

The day he broke her heart he wanted to delete it from his mind, act like it never happened. He regrets lying to her, not telling her from the start his real name and who he is. He regrets so many things and there's no way back.

Sitting on the bed, a bed he barely slept in, felt bad, wrong. He knows she is at the other side of the wall, throwing things and breaking them. He can hear her.

Tomorrow he has to leave, but time passes so slow right now without her that it feels like the day he has to leave will be next year. 

The shell she made for him is burning on his chest, making him hold it on his fist like his life depended on it. He feels how the hickey she left on his collar burns his skin. Her hair bands he has on his wrist are getting tighter and tighter, he feels how his hands are getting cold with the lack of blood. 

But it's all mental. All mental and not real.

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe none of this happened, it's just a nightmare of what could happen if she discovered his real name. 

He just has to wake up and then he will find her laying next to him on the bed, with her back on his chest and her hand holding his in front of her chest.

He tried to wake up desperately, slapping himself, pinching his arms. But it hurt, it hurt and what hurt him the most was that everything that happened was real.

"What have I done?" he cried softly, holding the shell with both of his hands and bringing it to his lips.

He really loved her. He loved Lily so much it overwhelmed him. He couldn't believe how much he could love a person in so little time, how his heart could beat for her and how he sighed thinking about her. 

For the first time, he felt she was the one. For the first time he felt she was his weakness. For the first time he let his mind wonder about the future and not live only in the present. 

He really saw a future with her. He saw himself waking up next to her all mornings and falling asleep next to her every night. He saw himself spending evenings with his friends while holding her hand. He saw himself buying the perfect apartment for them, with a room for her and all her paintings. He saw himself kneeling in front of her with a box in his hands and a shiny ring inside of it. He saw himself walking out of a chapel as newlyweds, holding her hand and hearing their friends cheer for them.

He saw a life with her. But it just faded away the moment she locked her apartment door.

He flinched when he heard the ringtone of his phone, making him run his hand all over his face and then hair, picking up the call.

"Yeah?" he sighed, not looking who was calling 

"You finally pick the call!" Zak.

"Zak… I'm not in the mood to talk right now" he sighed, closing his eyes, not wanting to hear his boss.

"Do you have any idea of the trouble you made? Who is that girl?" he asked. "You have a lot of things to explain"

"There's nothing to explain anymore" he said. "Whatever that happened with that girl is done. I'm coming back home tomorrow"

"There are pictures" 

"I know there are pictures! Even if I asked at the start of my summer break that I wanted no one to take pictures of me, people wouldn't listen! I don't have the energy to explain things about my private life because it is what it is! Private" he explained. 

He's tired. Tired of explaining his behavior, why he says and does things. He's tired of people not liking him because of how he is. He's tired of acting and looking at what he can say or he can do.

"For once in my life I wanted to do something by myself" he said, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling. "And it looks that I can't even do that"

"Once you come back from those holidays you have to come to the headquarters" Zak stated. "You have things to do"

"Of course I do" he sighed.

Who was him to believe that he could have the life of a normal person? That he could go somewhere alone and have a calm and quiet break? 

He's a celebrity, no matter where he goes there's always going to be someone that will recognize him.

"Fuck" he groaned, leaving the phone on the bed and taking a deep breath.

Now what? What he should do?

Carlos said he should use his brain to fix things. But how? How will he explain himself if the person he wants to talk with is the person he betrayed and hurt?

He sighed, getting up and walking out of the apartment, walking around the town. 

He ignored the people asking him for pictures, those who called him by his name like if they knew who he actually is. 

He didn't know, but his brain was working alone, taking control of his body and leading him to a store. He saw his hands grabbing a notebook and pens. He saw his feet walking towards the cashier, watching how he paid for what he bought.

He made the way back to the apartment, looking at her door with a sad gaze.

"I do love you" he whispered sadly. "More than you think"

It was incredibly hard to be Lando now. He wanted to be the man she fell in love with. He really wanted to be Logan.

The notebook was open in front of him and the pen was in his right hand. What is his brain planning to do? 

Dear Lily:

I know I hurt you. And I'm so sorry for doing that, you have no idea. I know that there's no way you can forgive me for what I did. And I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness.

Yeah. My name is not Logan. So now I will tell you everything about me. And by everything I mean the truth.

I'm Lando Norris. I was born on the 13th of November of 1999. I have siblings: an older brother named Oliver, and two little sisters named Cisca and Flo. My older brother is already married with Savannah and has two beautiful daughters: Mila and Athena (you would have loved them, I know you would have smiled a lot hearing Athena's name). My sister Flo is a professional horse rider, and I bet you would have loved to ride her horse, it would made you giggle like when we went to those ruins riding a horse.

I'm half British and half Belgian. My mom is the Belgian half of me. I really would love to learn her language because that would help me talk with my Belgian family, but I'm so bad with new languages, you know that.

I'm not a DJ. I mean, I do have a DJ set, I try to make some music but that's only a hobby. My work is being a driver. A Formula 1 driver for the team McLaren. This is my fifth year racing with them and I plan on doing it for a long time. 

I like to play golf too, and play video games as you saw. I have an eSports team named Quadrant that is going pretty well. I'm so proud of the team and of my own brand, of how much it grew since I created it. Many people follow us and we do a lot of things, we even have clothes. You know that red hoodie you borrowed me? It's from Quadrant. And those violet shorts?  From Quadrant too.

I would have loved to introduce you to my friends. I'm sure Carlos would have loved you, all my friends would. They are nice guys. 

Sometimes at night I imagine how you would fit in my life. How you would come to my races, cheer for me and walk next to me through the paddock. How much you would have loved to spend time with my family and friends, going together on vacations. 

My family would have loved you so much. Mila would love you, asking you to draw with her or make jewelry for her. She would be your number one fan. Savannah and you would be good friends, I'm sure. And I think you would be good friends with the girlfriends of other drivers.

Lily, I do love you. I couldn't tell you who I was because I was so scared of you recognizing me, or people around the town recognizing me. I'm so tired of being in the spotlight, of being in the mouth of other people, talking bad things about me. And I didn't want you to know that, I didn't want you to know the bad side about me.

I fell in love of you so hard, and it kills me hearing you cry and being the cause of your tears. I wish I could be there to hold you close to my chest and brush your hair. I wish none of this happened and I told you the truth from the start.

I'm yours, Lily, only yours. You own my heart and I'll leave this town knowing that I will never have it back.

Always yours,

Lando

He signed the paper with a sad smile. He told her everything, the essential things she has to know. He could tell her more, but he doesn't know how she would react, or if she would read this first letter.

Staying inside that apartment drove him crazy. He needed to be with her, it was as if he couldn't breathe without her touch.

He always asked himself what it was like to be in love, to find true love. When he was little he observed his parents, how much they cared for each other, how they shared their joy and sadness. Then he saw his brother, how he built a connection with his girlfriend. 

And now he found that connection, he knows what it feels to be connected with someone, to have the same feelings and caring for someone. He doesn't want to stop feeling that way.

Putting his things on the suitcase was hard. He knows that once he closes it he won't come back here, that he won't see her. 

Laying alone on the bed of that apartment was different. He felt cold, even if he had the blankets under his chin. His eyes wouldn't close, the ceiling was too interesting, apparently. He stopped hearing her, and it made him feel anxious. But he can't do anything.

He woke up early, or got up, because he could sleep. It was like a funeral walk, keeping his head low and grabbing his things, grabbing the notebook and ripping off the paper. He folded it and walked out of the apartment with his things and the letter in his hand.

"Lily?" he sighed, knocking on her door and slipping the paper under her door. "Just… take care, okay? Don't let this affect you. I love you, I want the best for you. I hope you forgive me… I love you"

He walked downstairs for the last time, looking back at the apartment complex with a sad smile and tears in his eyes. He went to the restaurant where the owner of the apartment works, taking a deep breath.

"Eh… Nora?" he called, making seconds later a woman walk out of the kitchen. "I came to leave the keys"

"Oh, how was your stay?" she asked with a lovely smile. 

"Eh… good" he smiled weakly, sniffling softly. "Can you please keep an eye on Lily?"

"Oh… Lily" she nodded. "Yeah of course"

Lando nodded, smiling weakly. He grabbed his backpack and turned around to walk out of the restaurant, but the woman stopped him.

"I won't say that what you did was right" she sighed. "I know what happened. But, Lando… if you truly loved that girl just give her time, don't give up on her"

"I won't" he smiled sadly. 

"Here" she said, writing something on a piece of paper and handing it to him. "It's her email. If you love her, don't stop letting her know"

"I…" he mumbled surprised, looking at the paper. "Thank you… you don't know how much it means to me. Thank you so much"

"Just fix this… make our girl happy" 

He nodded and held the paper close to his chest, walking out of the restaurant and waiting for his taxi.

There's a tiny hope for him. Just a tiny light of hope.

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 15/08/2023

My lovely Lily,

I arrived home. Things here are a mess… There were some not funny fans that decided to take pictures of us and post it on social media. And now, instead of enjoying the last days of freedom before working again, I have to make sure that everything is out of the internet.

I hope you read the letter.

I miss you so much 

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 24/08/2023

My gorgeous Lily,

There's no morning where I miss your hair in my face. 

Today I have to go to Zandvoort, it's the first race after the summer break. I'm so excited, actually. The car is amazing and I just hope I can finally win a race.

But sometimes I wish you were here… I wish I never lied to you, Lily. I'm not myself anymore. I can't sleep, Lily. I can't stop thinking about you and how you looked at me the moment you discovered the truth. Sometimes it hunts me in my sleep.

I wish you were here, love… 

I miss you

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 27/08/2023

My dear Lily,

The race didn't end well. I scored points, but the one that won was too fast and I couldn't follow his pace, nor stand on the podium next to him.

It's not that the car failed me. I failed the car. I wasn't focused, my mind was flying to Greece.

My boss is not happy with my result, and blames me for the bad performance.

God, you have no idea how bad I need your hugs, Lily. You have no idea how much I need your smile or giggles.

I miss you

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 20/09/2023

My sweet Lily,

Today I saw something in a store in Japan that reminded me of you. It was a little figure of Athena, your favorite Goddess, but from that anime called "Knights of the Zodiac". Did I tell you that my brother's little daughter is named like her? I have an Athena in my life, it sounds amazing, right? 

I sent you a hoodie from the new collection of Quadrant. I hope you like it and use it.

I miss you so much

I love you so much

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 18/10/2023

My beautiful Lily,

You won't believe this. I'm in Las Vegas. 

This place is amazing, but I don't think you would love it. It's too noisy, there are too many lights here. This place is the opposite of everything you like.

Do you miss me? Because I still do so much. 

In less than a month will be my birthday. I wish you were there with me to celebrate it.

I love you

From: Lando

To: Lily

Date: 12/11/2023

My precious Lily,

Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't want to celebrate it.

These last weeks and months are not the same without you. I wish I could say that my results at the races are good, but it's far from that. They are miserable. I can't focus. I do score points, I work well with the team. But I feel tired all the time, not well rested.

I just want this season to end. I want to go to Greece and see you, hug you, kiss you. 

I'm getting crazy everyday while checking the mail, wanting to read about you, wanting to know how you're doing. 

I know I fucked up, but please… I can't anymore, Lily. I don't want to give up, but I don't have energy anymore, baby… please, give me a simple answer. I don't care if it's an "I hate you" or "fuck you". Please let me know you are still alive.

I miss you so much.

And I love you to the moon and back.

From: Lily

To: Lando

Date: 13/11/2023

My dear Logan. Or Lando,

I'm alive.

Happy birthday 

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart @beatricemiruna @nonameishere

[pedrostylez]

Something Else pt. 7

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: You finally confront Anna, and Frankie is trying to keep himself under control

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 4.8k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, Oral f receiving, friendship dynamics, confrontation, illudes to drugs, jealousy, ptsd is swimming around here so proceed with caution

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Thank you for your patience with this-I've been able to outline the other chapters and if you look at the series masterlist there will be 10 parts. Thank you for your continued interest, and I hope you enjoy! Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

You wake up to Frankie asleep, arm draped over your hip and nose pressed between your shoulder blades. His breath is fanning over your back, warm and comforting as you try to peek over your shoulder to see if he is truly unwakeable. His hair is sticking up on one side, curling around his ears in a way that you think must tickle. 

You debate staying in bed a bit longer until your stomach grumbles unhappily. Glancing at the clock, you can see it is much later than your normal breakfast time, and begin to slide out of bed. Trying to not ruffle the sheets too much, you stick a leg out onto the ground, almost fully out of the bed when Frankie’s hand tightens around your hip, sliding around you and pulling you back into the bed. You squeak out a surprise, turning your head toward him. 

His eyes have opened barely, peering at you with a sleepy smile and a hum escaping him. “Where’ya goin’?” He mumbles into your sheets, pulling on you more so that his nose can fit comfortably in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, sighing out as he wiggles closer to you. 

“I was going to start some breakfast.” As if on cue, your stomach growls, his hand tightening over your middle. 

He chuckles, pushing his hips forward so that they are flush against your bottom, his length hardening against you. “Stay.” He says into your shoulder, pressing a kiss into your skin just as your phone buzzes on the side table. 

You both freeze, looking in the direction of your phone and waiting. It vibrates again, incessant in its search for someone to answer it. You plan on ignoring it-not in the mood to ruin the perfect bubble you currently find yourself in, when you hear a ringtone you’re unfamiliar with out in the living room. 

It’s Frankie’s turn to groan, flopping onto his back and rubbing his forehead. “That’s mine.” 

You throw him a smile as you sit up in bed, reaching for your phone. 

Anna: Can we meet up for coffee? Or lunch, assuming you had Frankie stay over ;)

You hear Frankie groan as he slinks out into the living room, answering his phone after the third time it begins ringing with a hushed “What, man?”

You: Lunch at my place?

You stand up and stretch, stepping quietly into the hallway where you think you can give Frankie privacy without listening in too hard. You turn on the kitchen light, seeing Frankie glance in your direction. “I have to think about it still.” He mumbles out, scratching the back of his head and sitting down on your couch. He’s silent as you turn on the stove for water to boil. “I want to talk to Ben first…no…I just-you already signed off on this? God damn it–yeah I’ll be alright.” 

After he’s hung up he stares forward, shaking his head. “Will has already agreed on going down there again.”

You furrow your brow at the information, turning to look at him. “Why did he do that?”

Frankie huffs out an annoyed breath. “I don’t know. He is the one that took note of the coordinates, according to Pope. It’s the same shit again as last time with him agreeing if everyone agrees, but now he’s up my ass about it.” He pulls at his curls, something you think is for him to try and ground himself. 

You wait, listening to the water begin to simmer, the kettle beginning to shake before deciding to speak. “You want to talk to Benny, then?”

He nods, resting his head on his hand to look at you. “I need to know where his head is before I try to…wrap my head around going, if he wants to.” He looks at you, a sad smile lifting on his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that, last night.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “No, I…I appreciate you telling me.” You pour the hot water over coffee grounds, letting two cups of coffee drip into a small carafe. “It’s a lot to handle on your own.”

When you finish with the coffee, walking over to Frankie with two cups in your hand you slide down to sit next to him. His hand wraps around one of the mugs, fingers brushing with yours as he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You sit silently together, sipping on your respective mugs waiting for the other to speak. You don’t know what to say; about last night, about Benny, about Anna, about anything. You leg begins incessantly shaking, staring off into the rest of the room to be in your own head. What will be said with Anna? Will she bring up Brad, or will she pretend it didn’t happen? Her text didn’t indicate she was upset–

“Hey.” Frankie says quietly, his palm warm from the mug resting on your knee. “Y’okay?”

You sigh, giving him a faint smile and then shaking your head. “I have to talk to Anna.”

He hums, gently taking your mug from your hands and setting it on the coffee table. He takes a deep breath, turning toward you and placing his hand back on your knee. His eyes flick to your neck, pupils blown wide for a moment before he swallows. “Can I…can I help? In any way?” He pauses, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. I just…you guys seem to have…issues.” 

You laugh, a brief chuckle. “We’ve been like sisters since high school. I can handle her on my own, it’s just difficult.” You sigh, leaning back into the couch and looking over at him. 

He nods, bringing his thumb up to your neck where he left a mark and stroking it. “Sorry, about this. I got carried away.” He flicks his eyes to yours before leaning in and pressing his lips on the mark gently.  “I’ve got to go see Ben before Will and Pope make me insane.”

He continues to press his lips to your neck, soft and warm and you sigh out happily. “Anna is going to be here for lunch.” He groans against you, another kiss into your skin before pulling away. 

Frankie leans toward the coffee table taking one last sip of his coffee to finish off the cup. “Wanna spend the night at my place?” He asks, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner as he stands. 

You smile, nodding your head at him. “Sure.”

Frankie doesn’t want to leave your place-not in the slightest. He thinks he’s covered up his anxiety well around you, focusing on kissing you and how you made him feel rather than what he is tempted to do. 

He’s walking in the direction of the gym again with the hopes that Benny is currently there, practicing. He needs to talk to someone that was there to better understand where his own mind is at. 

When he steps in through the front door, the sound of a punching bag being wailed on is the only indication that someone is here. “Ben?” Frankie calls, hearing the pause before Benny appears from behind a row of punching bags. 

“Fish!” He huffs, wiping at his forehead briefly before stepping over to Frankie. He glances around, likely looking for you, before bringing his gaze back to Frankie. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to talk to you about what Pope said last night. About the paycheck?” Frankie references, resting his hands on his hips and looking around the room. No one else was present, and he felt comfortable talking about it in the open. “I need to hear what you think about it.”

Benny waits, breathing heavily and watching Frankie. Frankie’s fingers are tapping against his belt, hair a mess from rolling around in your bed, and eyes drooping with tiredness. Frankie didn’t get a lot of sleep, only finding peace and finally falling unconscious when he was surrounded by you. He knows Benny can tell. Benny crosses his arms and gives a shrug. “What do you think about it?”

Frankie winces, shaking his head and looking away. “I–I need to know what you think first. I can’t–” He pauses, shutting his eyes tightly to push away the feeling in his gut. He wants to be able to handle this on his own, not go running to that side street he seems so familiar with. “I can’t get my thoughts straight.”

Benny steps towards him, hand heavy on Frankie’s shoulder as he looks at him. “Look at me, man.” He waits until Frankie’s eyes are on him, breathing through his nose with the intention of staying present. “I don’t think it’s the right move.”

Frankie feels himself deflate, eyes stinging with tears of relief. “I don’t want to go again.”

“We shouldn’t have to.” Benny nods, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder before releasing him. “I don’t think it's the right time, even if I wanted to go. But…” He shakes his head, wiping at his forehead. “Last time changed everything for me.”

Frankie nods, sighing out heavily. “Yeah.” Frankie remembers finding Tom, finding Benny leaning over him and shaking Tom’s dead body. Benny was likely more than just changed, dealing with his own issues that he covered up by continuing on. 

Benny begins unwrapping his hands of the gloves, sitting on the edge of the fighting ring. “I’ve always been a fighter, ready to go wherever you guys want. But I can’t watch another one of you die, just for a bag of money–no matter how much that money would change our lives.”

Frankie looks down to his shoes, feeling a sense of calmness. Reassured by Benny, he nods. “I’m not ready for something like that again.” Just because Santiago said he knew what would be in store, the last time indicated that he didn’t-he couldn’t know. 

Benny hums, standing and tossing his gloves. “You look like you’re about to rebound.” Frankie’s eyes flick up to his, embarrassment flooding his whole body. “C’mon, let’s go have lunch. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

You’re cutting up cheese for sandwiches when Anna knocks on your door, poking her head in for a moment. “Is he gone?” She says in a sing-song manner, taking a step around the corner to smile at you. 

“Yeah, he’s with Benny.” You nod, clearing your throat and setting down the knife. “I thought we could have sandwiches? Or grilled cheese.”

“Sounds great, honey.” Anna says quietly, shuffling from foot to foot before shutting your front door and stepping into the kitchen. “Can I help?”

You shake your head, opening the fridge and turning your back to her. 

It’s quiet for longer than you expected, and awkward tension rises between you before Anna finally huffs out a breath, sitting at one of your dining room chairs. “Listen, you caught me off guard last night.” You swallow, looking over at her and waiting. You don’t want to show any emotion, if you can help it. “Can you tell me what you meant? By saying you liked Brad?”

You look down to your nails, already itching to peel at the skin around them. “I meant that I liked him. Just what I said.”

Anna waits for you to explain more, a furrow creasing her brow as she shakes her head. “Why didn’t you say that? Two years ago?”

“What do you mean? I did. I told you–”

“No, honey.” She stops you, moving her head to try and be in your eye line. “You didn’t. We were out, looking for a guy for you to get over Caleb and then found Brad.” She scoffs, laughing at herself. “You said you were looking for a fuck boy. Do you remember that?”

“Well, yeah.” You mumble, shakily pulling out two pieces of bread and setting them on the counter in front of you. 

Anna takes a deep breath, softly speaking, “What I remember is that two weeks later you brought him along to another girls' night and I was drunk and asked if I could…flirt with him.” She stops, clearing her throat and waiting. When you don’t respond she continues. “What do you remember?”

You swallow roughly, shaking your head. “I don’t know.” You do know. She was explaining it how you remember, but there was the fact that you didn’t want her to ask in the first place. That she should have known. 

Anna scoffs, now annoyed and standing up to walk towards the counter you’re at. She leans her hands against the edge, “How are you going to hold this against me and bring it up out of the blue but then not tell me what happened?”

You give your own chuckle, shaking your head and lifting your eyes to hers. She’s upset–but so are you. You have been for years. “It’s not out of the blue, Anna. You’ve always done this.”

Her eyes widened in confusion. “Done what?”

You raise your hands up in disbelief. “Talked about guys that I’ve liked like they’re meat. Like we share. Like…like I can’t have one relationship that you’re not part of.” You take another deep breath, shaking your head. “Why do you ask if we can share, or for you to switch boyfriends?”

“What are you talking about?” She's pursing her lips in a way that makes you think she really doesn’t know.

“You slept with Brad after I slept with him.” You pause, debate if you should say what spills out of your mouth next. It’s now or never.  “Caleb said I wasn’t the one because he was really just fucking in love with you.”

Anna’s mouth opens, slack and in shock. “What?” She freezes, looking you dead in the face. 

“He told me, Anna.” Tears prick your eyes, looking up at the ceiling fan to try and keep them at bay. “He was so adamant throughout our relationship to have you there, and I thought he wanted me to just have my friends around, but when he broke up with me he-” You cut yourself off, unable to continue.

Anna is beginning to pace back and forth in front of your counter, running her hands through her hair. “Caleb never spoke to me in a way that made me think he was trying anything.” She shakes her head, only a pace away from you. “Nothing ever happened, do you hear me? I didn’t even know. I would have told him to get lost much sooner if I thought he was trying to…use you to get closer to me.”

You roll your eyes, letting  her sit in the information, still pacing back and forth. You can’t help yourself when you mutter, “You’re always flirting.”

Anna freezes again in place, suddenly paler. “No, I’m not!”

“You acted like you knew things about Frankie that you didn’t! In the coffee shop.” You’re speaking louder now, feeling heat in your cheeks and in your stomach from the effort of this confrontation. 

“I don’t even remember what you’re talking about.” She shakes her head, voice cracking.

You can’t help but blow up a little further. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember! It happened! I’m allowed to be upset about this!” 

Anna stops again, facing you head on and waiting. It feels like minutes have passed before she inhales deeply. “You are. You have a right to be upset. I shouldn’t have even asked to go talk to Brad; I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk that I couldn’t read your body language. I’ll admit that.” She pauses, clearing her throat and trying to hold back tears. Her eyes are becoming glassy and you want to reach out to her. “But you’re holding it against me after two years of not telling me that it hurt your feelings. And reading into things that just aren’t true about Frankie.” She sniffles, wiping at her nose with the end of her shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I shouldn’t joke like that, whether I remember it or not; we always used to and–” Her voice catches, closing her eyes to try and recollect herself.

You feel deflated, stepping towards her and grabbing for her hand. “No, you’re right I should have said something.”

She hiccups, bringing her eyes back to yours. “You’re like my sister and I didn’t know. That’s what kills me right now is that I didn’t know, and I could have apologized sooner. I could have been working on making it up to you sooner. I could have helped sooner.” 

You both stand there quietly for a minute, staring at each other until you finally nod. “Okay. I’ll try to tell you as soon as I don’t like what you’ve said, or if someone is secretly in love with you.” You think that maybe comedic relief is needed, even though you mean it. 

Anna sniffles, nodding her head and exhaling in relief. “Have I really joked about switching boyfriends? And not even realize it?”

You go back to the cutting board, moving the cheese to the side to start slicing some cucumber. “Yeah. You said it when Frankie was in my closet hiding from you.”

“So, he was actually here that day?” Anna gives a watery smile, wiping at her face and shaking her head. “Ugh, I’m sorry honey. Seriously.”

You swallow, nodding your head. “I know.”

Frankie is still jittery after lunch with Benny, even though he was reassured multiple times that Benny would stick by him-that they wouldn’t be going to South America again any time soon, until both of them were ready. 

“We can talk to them next time we are at the hangar.” Benny said, dropping him off at Frankie’s front door with a pat on the back. “Don’t worry too much right now. You’ll be good?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Frankie shrugged him off, feeling his heart race at being alone in his apartment. 

He’s not fine. 

He’s craving something, and he has this feeling in the pit of his stomach that he is backpedaling all the hard work he had accomplished in therapy. There’s this itch that he can’t shake that he hasn’t felt in years. Frankie’s eyes flash over to the door as a loud vehicle passes, feeling sweat begin to form at his temples. It’s a quick walk to where his dealer probably still is; he hadn’t spoken to him since Santiago had taken his phone from him and blocked the number, but he could probably just show up. He was a pretty fair guy, was always calm–

A knock on his door makes him jump, breathing out a steady stream of air through pursed lips as he twists the knob to reveal you. You’re standing with a bag draped over your arm, a small and tentative smile growing on your lips as you look him over. “Hey,”

Relief floods Frankie’s system, unable to hold back as he leans towards you and crushes you against him. You let out a surprised huff, burying your hand into his hair. “H-hey, hi.”

“Everything okay?” You ask into his ear, scratching lightly at the back of his head. It soothes him, nodding into your shoulder and brushing his nose against your neck. 

When he pulls away, he sees you searching again for something. “Yeah, just…long day.” You nod, stepping into his entryway as he slides the bag you brought off your shoulder. It’s heavier than he expects, smirking to himself. “You bring your whole closet?”

You laugh quietly, kicking off your shoes and turning to him. “Just the essentials.” Your smile spreads across your face, making his nerves settle and a small smile continues to grow on his. “I thought I would make you dinner, if you had anything in the fridge?”

“You don’t need to make anything.” He shakes his head, setting down your bag and wrapping an arm around your torso. His eyes flick to your mouth briefly before he feels heat rush to his cheeks. “I had…something else in mind. To eat.”

You purse your lips and squint at him, holding back a laugh that he feels vibrating through your chest that is pressed to his. You squeeze your hand into his shoulder, sighing out, “Maybe later. Let’s make something easy while you tell me what Benny said?”

He swallows harshly as you step away, unaware of his nerves that have picked up again. He clears his throat, following you to the kitchen and leaning against the chair he has set up at a table. His hands shake, holding on to the back of the chair as if it is the only thing holding him afloat. 

You glance at him briefly as you open his cabinets one by one, perusing what he has and calculating what could be made for dinner. He watches you settle on some pasta, humming happily and pulling it down to the counter. 

“Ben doesn’t want to go.” He breathes, closing his eyes for a moment. “He thinks we could, eventually but…it’s not the right time.”

You nod, letting out a harsh, “Good, fuck Santiago.” Before snapping your mouth shut and leaning down to the lower cabinets and grabbing an empty pot to fill at his sink. “He shouldn’t have put you and Benny in that situation.”

Frankie lets out a short laugh, shaking his head and swinging the chair around to sit in it. “He has good intentions.” Frankie’s mood continues to lighten as he watches you shake your head, glaring in his general direction before putting the pot of water on the stove. “He wants all of us to be taken care of, and thinks it’s the only way. Very black and white.”

You hum, stepping back from the water that has now been put on to boil, sliding over to the chair Frankie is currently sitting in. “Anna said that Santiago was having mixed feelings after seeing how you reacted.” You lean forward, pressing your lips to his cheek briefly before resting your hand on the back of his chair. He can smell your shampoo again, and wants to pull you closer. “He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend just because of this.”

“He won’t.” Frankie confirms, lifting a hand to your hip to move your shirt out of the way. His thumb presses into your cooled skin, pulling you forward to straddle his legs. You smile, refusing to sit down but hovering over him. “Sit, querida.” 

“I’m trying to cook for you.” You laugh, moving a hand to his shoulder to keep yourself standing as he tries to pull you down on him. “Don’t distract me.”

“Just a quick kiss, baby.” He muses, smirking as you lower onto his lap. He holds you tightly to him, arms straining as you are trying to pull away and failing. You begin to laugh, opening your mouth to the perfect opportunity for Frankie’s tongue to slide against yours. 

You gasp, hands tightening on his shoulders and letting your full weight sit on him. Frankie groans, wrapping his arms around your back and scooting you closer so that your center is flush with his. “Frankie, you’ve got to stop.”

“Do you want me to? To stop?” He asks, breathless and pawing at you to be closer, closer, closer. You bite at your lip, whining when your center subconsciously rolls against his, and he can’t help it when he brings one hand up to the back of your head and brings your mouth back to his. 

Its teeth and heavy breathing, frantic hands and tongue as he lifts you with him, immediately kneeling down on to the tiled floor. You gasp again, pulling away on enough to lean a hand back as he lowers you further, fingers quickly going to the button of your jeans. “The water–”

“It’ll be fine.” He mutters, pulling at the waistband to pop over your ass. He clocks the baby blue lace, the hint of small flowers sewn in and pauses for a moment. “What are you wearing?”

Your face flushes red, embarrassed as his hand slides up your thigh, an attempt to smooth away the worry. He guides your legs apart, keeping his eyes on yours as he feels you shiver. “I thought they were cute.” You squeak as his fingers ghost over your center, his eyes going back to the discarded jeans and looking at the underwear again. 

“I do too.” He says lowly, adjusting himself to be laying on his stomach, face perched just above your core as he wraps his fingers around your thighs. “Do you match under there?” He sticks his chin up to your shirt, waiting for you to lift it with blown out pupils. 

With shaking fingers you reach for the hem, lifting it over your face to reveal the matching bra as Frankie leans forward to press his tongue against your clit. You gasp, stuttering in your movements as the collar of your shirt gets stuck at your forehead. “Frankie–”

“Lay down, baby.” He moans, sliding his tongue down to your center. He groans when he finds you wetter than he had anticipated, slipping the tip of his tongue in and out of you to feel your legs twitch. 

You crane your head back, leaning on one elbow as your other hand drifts down to his hair, tugging at the feeling of him. It’s overwhelming, how his moans vibrate up your spine, how one of his hands lifts to your chest and his thumb swipes back and forth over a perked nipple through the sheer fabric. 

Frankie’s eyes are locked on your face, indulging in how you look, how you feel. He doesn’t understand how you’re so wet for him, of all people. Burying his face into you is the only thing he thinks will keep him anchored right now, let him stay focused. He moves his nose between your folds, pressing against your clit firmly as his tongue delves deeper, and your moan spurs him on further. 

He moans over you, replacing his tongue with a single finger that you accept quickly with a sigh. He smiles at you, squeezing your chest in acknowledgement. “So fucking wet for me, baby. What’s got you so riled up?”

You squirm below him, his hand up at your chest holding you firm while his other pumps in and out of you. “Y-you.” You squeak, flushing in embarrassment. You peek a look at him to find his mouth agape, lips curled up at the sides and running his tongue across his canines. It makes you shake, throwing your head back again. 

“Ain’t no fucking way,” Frankie growls, pressing another finger into to you without warning. You spread your legs further apart, tile you hadn’t touched yet cooling your skin as he moves quicker. “No way in hell you’re this fucking gorgeous every fucking time. So fuckin’ needy f’me, all dressed up and wasn’t going to let me see,”

Frankie’s babbling gets the best of you, your fingers gripping at the hair on top of his head and shutting your eyes to feel him. When your breathing starts to pick up, almost panicking at how quickly your orgasm is coming, Frankie soothes you. He holds you tight to him, mouth over your clit and humming as his unoccupied hand holds you down by the hip and running his thumb back and forth. 

You try to jerk away, popping your eyes open at the feeling of him still going, not slowing down. “Frankie, p-please,”

He flicks his eyes up to yours, slowing his tongue's circular movements as he watches you. You pull your hand away from his hair, grabbing on to his wrist in the hopes that he might pull away-have mercy on you. Instead, Frankie flips his hand, grasping yours in his and squeezing you tightly as his fingers continue to pump into you. He pulls his mouth away, a string of spit connecting you still to him. “You’ll give me another.” 

Just as he goes to dive back in, your whines of protest are cut short when you both hear steaming water sizzling. You snap your head over to the stove, watching it boil over and steam profusely. “Shit!”

You both scramble up, haze around you broken as you turn off the stove and let him move the pot off the heat, standing and watching as it calms down. You realize quickly that you’re wearing nothing from the waist down, only in your bra while Frankie is fully clothed. You go to cover yourself, glancing around on Frankie’s floor to see where your clothes might be, but Frankie grabs your hand, turning you to look at him. 

He blushes, biting his lip as he tries to stifle a laugh. “Come on.” He pulls on your hand, letting your chest bump against his as he plants a kiss on your cheek. Your smile creeping up on your cheeks is all he needs to know that it is the right move to keep pulling you towards the bedroom. 

[rebelwrites]

Twenty Four: There’s Been An Accident

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Monza was definitely special, I knew from watching on TV this place had a magical feeling surrounding it but there was something breathtaking about being here in person, surrounded by the team and seeing all the love the Tifosi had for the two boys in red. Charles knew how to give us all a heart attack, the last few laps of the race were so intense and I was pretty sure we were only moments away from having to get a defibrillator on Fred, especially when Charles locked up so close behind Carlos.

“Je n'ai jamais vu mon fils aussi heureux. I've never seen my son so happy.” Pascale said softly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Peut-on lui en vouloir, tout le monde l'aime ici. Can you blame him, everyone loves him here.” I beamed, keeping my gaze focused on my man who was currently standing on the pit wall with the crowd going crazy underneath him. He was in his element signing things for them and it warmed my heart seeing him doing what he loves.

“Nova, sweetie, I was talking about you.” Pascale chuckled softly, causing me to turn my attention to her, the smile on her face was as bright as the Italian sun. “Ever since you came into his life, I noticed his outlook has changed, as you know this season hasn’t been the best for him so thank you for making him smile again.”

I felt the lump form in the back of my throat, I knew how much Pascale meant to Charles so to get her approval made this weekend even better that I could have ever imagined.

However, all that was about to change and my mood was about to plummet into the earth.

The sound of my phone ringing caused me to freeze, it wasn’t my normal ringtone that was blasting out of my back pocket, this was the sound I had set for Pops. He never rang me, most of the time he had no idea where his phone was. My stomach dropped, my mouth went drier than the Sahara desert, I had a feeling deep in my gut that whatever this phone call was about it would cause my world to come crashing down around me.

To everyone it looked like Charles’ attention was solely on the crowd in front of him, yet in reality he was listening to everything that was going on behind him, focused on his girl and Mum. Nothing could wipe the smile off his face, even though he came fourth, Monza always meant a lot to him and now to be able to share this moment with someone as special as Nova made things so much more special.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that Nova was now on the phone. The look of panic on her face caused Charles to worry, whoever was on the other end of the call must have dealt her some devastating news.

“Pops, take a breath, you aren’t making any sense.”

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”

“ACCIDENT?!?!?”

“Pops, who is hurt?”

Charles felt the pit in his stomach as he clambered off the pit wall, rushing over to Nova placing his hands on her shoulders. “Is everything okay, Sunshine?” he asked, trying to get a read of the situation. All of the color had drained from Nova’s face and her hands were starting to shake. “Come on, let's move out of the way of the crowd, give you some privacy,” he said softly, guiding his girl away from the fencing. The lack of response he was getting caused his mind to race, had something happened to Jax or Elenor? “Put it on speaker babe.”

Nova pulled the phone away from her ear, following Charles’ instructions.

“JT, it’s Charles, what’s going on?” he said in a panic as Nova tried to hold back the tears from spilling over her lash line.

“There’s been an accident involving Jax.”

Charles watched as fear completely took over Nova’s body, her knees giving out from her the moment her father said her brother’s name, luckily Charles was quick with his reaction, catching her before she landed on the floor.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she cried, gripping onto Charles’ hoodie.

“It’s bad Nova, really bad,” JT’s voice was starting to crack as he spoke. “Tig found him at the side of the road his Harley totaled along with Jax unconscious on the floor.”

Charles felt tears burning his eyes, as he held onto Nova letting her cry into his chest. He needed to get her back inside as he knew all attention would be on the pair of them even though no one could hear the conversation the atmosphere around the track had taken a turn. “I will be on the next flight home,” she breathed in between her cries.

The minute the phone call ended Charles quickly guided Nova back into the safety of the garage, not stopping until they were in his driver’s room along with Pascale. The air felt heavy in such a small room but all Charles cared about was getting his girlfriend back to Charming to be by her brother’s bedside.

“There aren't any flights to Cali until this time tomorrow,” his mum sighed, looking up from her phone.

“I will get Andrea to make sure the private jet is ready,” Charles hummed, running his thumb across Nova’s cheek trying to wipe away her tears. “Everything is going to be okay, babygirl.” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“No it won’t, you don’t understand,” Nova cried, tangling her fingers in her roots. “Jax is the best rider I have ever known. He wouldn't have just come off his bike like this, something must have happened.” Charles' heart shattered with every word she said, she sounded so broken and there was nothing he could do to fix the situation. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay. Family comes first, so within the hour we will be on the flight back to Cali.”

“Char, no!” she scolded, looking up into his green eyes. “You aren’t coming with me, you have the Pirelli tyre testing tomorrow.”

“I can bail, Fred will understand.”

“Nope, ain’t happening, this is your dream and I am not letting you jeopardize anything because something has happened back home.”

Charles let out a heavy sigh, he knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind on this. Looking over at Pascale he shot her a look causing her to nod in acknowledgement. “I will go with you, sweetie,” she whispered, placing her hand on Nova’s back. “And don’t try and fight me on this, you are in no state to travel on your own and I have a feeling you might need an extra pair of hands back in Cali.”

Within the next forty minutes they were standing on the tarmac of the airport, the private jet was ready to go as soon as Nova and Pascale had boarded. Charles was struggling to hold back tears, he hated saying goodbye even though he had a plan in place but it still didn’t make this any easier, especially when his girlfriend was distraught not knowing the state of her brother’s health.

“As soon as you find out how he is, let me know,” Charles whispered, pulling out his ipad from his backpack. “Take this, I have made sure all three of the Cars movies are downloaded onto it along with Monza 19 and a few other good races.”

“Char,” Nova whimpered, smiling weakly at him as she took the device, “thank you.”

“Try and get some sleep on the flight baby, you won’t be any help to anyone exhausted.” he whispered, resting his hand on her cheek before pressing a tender kiss against her lips. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Every step I took felt like I was being crushed further into the floor, the clinical smell of the hospital assaulting my senses. Since the phone call with Pops I had no updates so I had no idea if Jax had gotten worse or improved but I was sure as hell gonna eat the boys alive for not texting me even if it was just to say “no change.”

I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest with how fast it was pounding against my ribs, my stomach was in knots and I felt like I was only moments away from throwing up. Jax had to be okay, he needed to be okay. I couldn’t go on without my brother, not with how Pops was. My thoughts drifted to Elenor and that's when the tears threatened to spill over my lash line.

Did she know?

If she didn’t know how was I going to tell her that her daddy isn’t well?

I had no idea what floor Jax was on let alone what room but I didn’t need to, my body was on autopilot and with every step I took it was guiding me to my older brother. As I ventured down a corridor I could hear the sounds of Tig and Chibs bickering in the distance causing me to roll my eyes. Suddenly I found myself frozen on the spot, no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get my legs to move, it was like someone had just nailed me to the floor.

“Sweetie,” the calming voice of Pascale came from behind me as she placed her hand on my shoulder. “I know how worried you are but take a deep breath,” she quickly appeared in front of me, forcing me to stop, “I know this is going to be hard but I am here for you and so are your family, so fall back on us.” Following her instructions I slowly nodded, scared if I spoke I was going to break down into tears.

“I knew she shouldn’t have gone, she should be here not at some fucking race track!” Tig exclaimed, claiming my full attention. Is that what he really thought, did he really think it was an easy decision for me to go with Charles? “I knew that boy was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him. And now look, Jax is lying unconscious in a goddamn hospital bed with Nova is nowhere to be seen.”

“That’s way outta line!!!” Chibs snapped, I could practically hear the growl in his voice as he spoke. “That lassie deserved to have a break so I’d be careful what you say next because brother or not you will be the next one in a hospital bed if you carry on talking about Nova and Charles like that.”

Running my hand over my face I needed to intervene making sure this situation didn’t get any worse. I kept telling myself that Tig was only acting like this due to the stress of the situation but I think deep down I knew there was some truth to his words, ever since the morning he interrupted us in the kitchen he had been different towards me.

“If you have something to say Alexander, say it to my fucking face!” I scoffed loudly as I turned the corner, instantly being met with a very pale looking Tig. “I have just spent the last 12 hours on a plane, I am stressed to the max and very very cranky, do not fucking try me right now.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before barging past him, making a b line straight for Pops, the moment I was close enough I flung myself into his arms trying to find some sort of comfort in his touch. “How is he, Pops?” I whimpered, feeling like a lost five year old.

“Still unconscious, the doctors won’t let us do anything because you are his next of kin,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, my heart sunk knowing how hard this was on him, because of his declining health he couldn’t make the decisions needed for his son’s care “they did have to take him for emergency surgery though.”

Pulling away from him I slowly made my way to the window of the room everyone was crowded around, placing my hand on the glass my heart shattered into a million pieces seeing my brother lying in the hospital bed. The moment I laid eyes on him the tears started to fall and there was no stopping them. The doctor in the room made eye contact with, whispered something to the nurse before she quickly made her way out to me.

“Are you Nova Teller?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, that's me,” I whispered, afraid if I spoke any louder my voice would give out on me. “How is he?”

“Come inside, the Doctor will update you on your brother’s condition.” she nodded.

“I want my Pops and Pascale in the room with me.” I stated, roughly wiping my eyes with the sleeve of Charles’ hoodie.

“Of course,” she said, opening the door for the three of us to enter.

The moment I had passed her I made my way to the seat next to the bed, automatically taking Jax’s hand in mine. “Oh Jaxy,” I whimpered, taking in the road rash that covered most of his arm and cheek. Once again I found myself fighting the tears as I looked up at the ceiling of the room praying to all the gods to keep him safe.

“Miss Teller, your brother is very lucky,” the Doctor said, his tone was stern which caused me to shift in my seat, I felt like I had been transported back to 16 year old me sitting in the principal's office with Jax after we decided to spray paint the reaper on the gym wall. Pushing the memory down I took a deep breath as the doctor continued. “He has broken his right leg, but due to the severity of the break we had to surgically fix the bones back in place, meaning he now has a titanium rod holding the bones in place. He has road rash covering a lot of his left side and had to be rushed for emergency surgery due to a ruptured spleen,” he paused, looking back at his clipboard for a moment. “His toxicology report also showed he was nearly four times over the legal blood alcohol limit.”

“When will he wake up?” I breathed.

“That is all down to Mr Teller, the anesthetic has worn off now so it is just a waiting game unfortunately.”

Taking a deep breath, I looked back down at my brother. We were going to need as much help as we could get whilst he was recovering, I knew the next few months were going to be a challenge. I knew Chibs would step up covering the President’s role in the club but I had no idea how I was going to cope with getting Jax back to full health alongside looking after Elenor and Pops.

“You aren’t in this alone, sweetie,” Pascale said softly, squeezing my shoulders, like she was inside my head, “I will be here as long as you and your family need me.”

The hours had passed and I had no idea how long I had been in the room, all I knew was I wasn’t leaving Jax’s bedside.

“I swear to god, if you don’t wake up I will smother you with your goddam pillow!” I cried, clutching his hand. The tears were freely rolling down my cheeks, Jax had been one of my lifelines for so long.

I couldn’t lose him now.

He was the reason I found my voice, he taught me how to fight much to Pops annoyance, he was my partner in crime and always had my back when I needed it the most. He was also the reason why I was so happy, without him I would have never taken the plunge with Charles, I would have more than likely hidden myself away not to make a fool of myself.

“You gotta fight bro, we need you to pull through,” I paused, taking a deep breath, “I cut my time short with Char, because you we stupid enough to ride four times over the limit,” I scoffed, staring at him trying to see any signs of movement.

“I didn’t ask you to ditch him,” Jax mumbled, his voice raspy from the endotracheal tube used for the anesthetic. The sound of his voice caused me to freeze, seeing his blue eyes staring back at me. “Oh that’s it, give me the silent treatment,” he hummed, smirking at me.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that was, you had a daughter who needs you and you could have killed yourself,” I said narrowing my eyes at him. “I could punch you in the face right now.”

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