#so it will have BEEN over for quite some time already

[januaryembrs]

hot chocolate!!!

what about bau!reader who’s super affectionate with spencer (and he just takes it with a blush and sugary coffee)

example; jawline kisses that are supposed to be cheek kisses instead of hello’s and goodbye’s & reader having her arm around spencer’s waist at all times cuz she’s just so used to his body warmth!!!

(for some reason i’m imagining s9 reid & new-ish reader but u can do what u want ofc!!)

FUGITIVE AFFECTIONS | Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

description: fugitive (noun) meaning escape, runaway. (adjective) meaning fleeting, brief, passing.

Length: 1.1k

warnings: fluff fluff FLUFF.

He knew what was coming the second he heard her footsteps. The coffee machine spluttered with effort as it churned out his third cup of the day, and he was already perched with the sugar waiting for the appliance to do its thing. Spencer barely had chance to acknowledge the approaching figure when he felt arms wrap around his waist, someone attaching themselves to his back with a feather light kiss to his spine. 

“Good morning,” He called over his shoulder, and you hummed, quickly squeezing the soft pooch of his stomach and releasing him. 

“Morning,” You said, and he leaned up to open the cupboard door, which wasn’t a big feat for him with his heinously long limbs. Plopping a mug down on the side, he poured coffee in your cup first before he started on his own, “Reports due today?” 

“Hotch wants the Minnesota and the Nevada cases wrapped up,” He said, sliding the milk and sugar over to your side of the counter and keeping his head down. Spencer felt his ears run hot, like they usually did whenever you got so close to him, which just happened to be always. 

He doubted the words ‘personal space’ were ever a thing in your vocabulary. It had started with Garcia, with the two of you linking arms and braiding each other's hair after two weeks of you moving to the BAU, and he’d figured that Garcia had won you over with that natural, bubbly charm of hers. But Spencer was perceptive, and he’d quickly realised the behaviour was not strictly limited to Penelope and her chirpy attitude. You tended to walk close to everyone, like you were trying to mesh you bodies in with them and the shoulder bumps and hands brushed against one another didn’t matter. In the end, rather than push you away, Morgan had taken to wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you waltzed around the office together. Even Blake was succumbing to your touchy-feely attitude as you liked to cosy up next to her on the jet, usually falling asleep with your head on her shoulder, and she thought little of it now, just continuing with her crosswords unbothered. 

And then you’d set your sights on Spencer. 

He supposed you hadn’t quite got the memo about his germaphobia, or perhaps the transference of bacteria between humans during simple hand holding just never occurred to you. Yet after just a month of being desk buddies with him, he nearly jumped out of his skin the day you slipped your fingers in between his when the two of you had been paired up on a case and you were heading down the witness’s driveway to interview them. 

He’s been about to ask what the hell you were doing, or perhaps scramble to shove you off, and sanitise his hands with the emergency gel he kept in his bag at all times. But by the time he’d looked over at you, his cheeks a flaming strawberry colour with what he’d thought of as annoyance, you were simply smiling at him, and began swinging your joined hands back and forth, nudging your temple into his shoulder affectionately. 

“You look really pretty in that purple shirt, Spencer,” You said simply, and whatever scathing remark about how eighty percent of pathogens are transferred during hand holding was robbed from his gullet and he was stunned into silence. The way you’d said his name alone made his lips part in wonder, because he’d never heard it said like that. 

“T-thankyou, I like your jacket.” He cringed as soon a he said it, and the two of you looked down to your government issued FBI vest, the same one he wore, the same one Hotch wore, the same one they’d all worn for the past nine years. 

You sniggered, bumping him again with your forehead like you were a cat purring up against him, marking your territory. 

“You’re cute,”

You were full of sweet, loving words like that he realised, all buttercups and candy floss and honey and sweetie and my love and he felt himself expecting it now, biting his lip in worry if you were ever just the tiniest bit too busy to fluff him up with affection.

Like when you’d been called out by Blake on an emergency, the two of you scrambling to grab the SUV keys to go meet Morgan and JJ where they were moving into the building  after the suspect. 

The two of you had all but ran out of the precinct in the effort to catch up with the other agents, leaving Spencer, pen still in his hand as he mapped out the geographical profile, and he hadn’t realised anything was missing until he heard the door slam shut and he hadn’t felt the warmth of your hug, your hand in his hair ruffling it lovingly, not even a ‘goodbye, sweetie!’

Spencer pouted, despite the fact he’d spent the first few weeks wondering if he should be shying away from your touch because he was quickly running out of sanitizer and had yet to want you to stop. He felt like his routine had been interrupted, because that’s definitely what the source of his disappointment was, not the fact he wondered if he had done something wrong, and yet before he could think too hard about it, the door swung back open, Blake yelling something from the hallway that he could just about make out was your name, before a body crashed into his side and your lips were on his jaw, kissing him lightly through laboured breaths. 

“Bye, Spence.” You murmured, kissing up his cheek a few times to apologise for the wait, and he hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour through the fish out of water gape as he watched you run back to the door, Blake looking at you incredulously. 

“I just watched you run up three flights of stairs for that?” She asked, the door slowly closing behind you and giving him unfiltered snooping on your conversation. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, the same one that you had just kissed over and over again like it was a normal thing for you two, and he wondered if he could coordinate you rushing out of the office every time if it meant he’d have that again. 

“It’s Spencer, it was important,” You insisted, and he squoze his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, because it was too late to tell you just how much you’d made him feel in such a tiny gesture, and the electricity from your kisses had to come out somewhere. If not, Spencer worried he might explode. 

His hand sanitizer sat empty in his pocket, the same way it had been for months, and Spencer couldn’t care less.

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hammarby

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Georgia Stanway x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Georgia's new shirt is horrifying

You stare at her, eyes wide.

Georgia isn't quite sure why you're staring but you are.

You'd come into the locker room this morning with Magda and Pernille and sat in Pernille's cubby like usual.

Unlike the team, you come into the locker room already wearing your training shirt and boots. Pernille had once said that it's easier to get you ready at home then let you change with everyone else.

Georgia's frown deepens the longer you stare at her.

At some point during the time Georgia's been here and the time you've been here, you've slipped away from Pernille's cubby to stand in front of her.

"You feeling okay?" Georgia asks, confusion still seeping into her bones the longer you stare up at her," Is something wrong?"

You bite your lip and point at the shirt she was just folding up.

"Is that an AIK shirt?" You ask.

"Er...yeah?"

You wrinkle your nose up in disgust and turn away, hurrying off like Georgia's just murdered a kitten or something. You duck behind Magda, clinging to her tightly.

"Morsa!" You say, looking halfway to tears," I don't like Georgia anymore!"

"Hey!" Georgia exclaims," What?! I haven't done anything!"

"You have!"

"I haven't!"

"You have!"

"I haven't!"

"Georgia," Pernille pipes up," You're arguing with a child."

"We're not arguing!"

You scoff. "Yes we are!"

"We're not!"

"We are!"

Magda sighs, lifting you up onto her hip. You're getting a bit too old for her to be doing this but she doesn't really care.

"Why don't you like Georgia anymore?"

You shake your head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, you can't just say you don't like Georgia and then not give a reason."

You take a deep breath before pointing accusingly at Georgia. "She came in wearing an AIK shirt!"

Pernille buries her face in her hands. "Oh no."

Magda whirls around. The fond smile she had previously been wearing was contorted into a look of pure horror.

"An AIK shirt?!" She demands and Georgia gets the feeling that she's done something egregious.

"Yeah? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong-? What's wrong with that?! Are you serious?!"

If Georgia wasn't currently terrified for her life, she'd make a joke about how similar you and Magda clearly are because you've get matching looks of outrage on your faces.

"Now you've set her off," Pernille mutters.

"AIK are shit!"

"Princesse! We don't use that language!"

You give Pernille a petulant look. "Morsa says that I can call AIK shit because they are! She said it's the only time I can use that word."

"She's right!" Magda declares decisively," AIK are shit and I can't believe you've done this! In front of my child?!"

"It's just a shirt!" Georgia sputters," What is going on?!"

"Magda is a Hammarby fan," Pernille explains," And so is Princesse. Both clubs play in Stockholm so..."

Georgia nods. "A City and United situation."

"A little bit."

"I can't believe you've done this!" Magda continues," This is meant to be a safe space! Look at her!"

You're sobbing now and Georgia's ninety percent sure they're crocodile tears but still, they make her feel awful.

"AIK is shit!" You repeat through your tears," Hammarby is better!"

"Hammarby is the best!" Magda says," It's okay, princesse, Georgia didn't mean it. She doesn't understand because she isn't Swedish. We'll help her learn from this."

"You're both so dramatic!" Pernille rolls her eyes, pushing you both out through the door before turning to look at Georgia again. "Don't mind them. This always happens when they find out something related to AIK."

"And the-?" Georgia gestures over her eyes.

"The tears? Yeah, a hundred percent fake. Magda told her it would make more people change their allegiance to Hammarby."

"They have...strong opinions."

Pernille stares at the closed door. "Yeah, Princesse inherited the flair for the dramatic."

Georgia chuckles. "How do you put up with them?"

Pernille gives her a sly smile. "I just don't mention AIK."

[barcaatthemoon]

third party || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||

mapi and ingrid invite you to join them.

tonight had been a long time coming. you were no stranger to tension in the locker room. by the time that you arrived at barcelona, your body count had well-exceeded your jersey number. your paths had crossed a few times with a couple of the girls on the team already, even if it had only ever been on the pitch.

within your first month there, you had managed to find your way into a couple of your new teammates' beds. it hadn't been intentional, just a few drinks and dancing gone a bit too far. it had been a bit of a shock to mapi when she had heard patri and pina talking about you, and even more so whenever ingrid had been unphased.

"she was much more wild at wolfsburg." mapi's jaw had dropped at ingrid's simple comment. you knew ingrid's bed well, and a part of mapi felt jealous whenever she looked at you. their sex life wasn't stale, but a part of her longed to know what it would have been like with you in their bed as well.

ingrid had figured it out almost instantly. mapi was flustered around you, something that ingrid found amusing. you had picked up on it as well, but your soft spot for ingrid kept you from flirting or seeking it out. if they wanted you, then they'd just have to make the first move. you had confidence that ingrid would eventually come talk to you, but you hadn't expected it to be during a team bonding night.

you were no stranger to the club scene, but you felt out of place in alexia's apartment for movie night. there were some drinks flowing for those who wanted them, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself. besides, there were a lot of young players there that you wanted to be a good influence for. barcelona was interested in you for the long run, and you didn't want to mess that one up.

"it's been a long time since we've been close like this," ingrid whispered in your ear. she had her arm draped across your shoulders loosely. mapi shifted on the other side of her to steal a kiss, which was when ingrid tugged you even closer.

"what are you doing?" you asked her. ingrid just shrugged your question off as she let her hand fall down a bit.

"act natural like i know you can," ingrid told you. she let her hand roam a little, brushing against places that you didn't know she remembered. you took a sip of your drink and tried to keep your attention on the movie. it was no use, not once ingrid's hand squeezed your hip. she was smirking when you glanced over at her after jumping a little.

"it is late, we should go," mapi announced. the girls were putting on another movie when ingrid stood up. your building was on the way to theirs, so mapi offered to drive you home. ingrid clung to your side, leading you out of alexia's apartment. most of the team had no idea of what you were in for, but the few that you had hooked up with knew better.

you had gotten pretty good at ignoring judgemental or knowing looks from people, but the look in frido's eyes got to you. the two of you hadn't ever slept together, but she knew about your feelings for ingrid. she had been there at wolfsburg whenever you and ingrid had been sleeping together, and she had heard all about the aftermath of it all from former teammates.

"don't hog her," mapi said as she tugged you out of ingrid's grasp. you hadn't expected her to be so forward, especially not in the parking lot. it was possible that there could be prying eyes, but mapi didn't care. her hands found their home on your ass as she pulled you against her body. "ingrid tells me that you're quite the kisser."

"you'll just have to find out for yourself," you teased. mapi bit her lip as she glanced at you. the two of you were at eye level with each other, but neither of you cared to hold eye contact. mapi's eyes were fixated on your lips up until she leaned in for the kiss. you hadn't known what to expect, but she was very forward with the kiss.

you leaned back a bit as ingrid moved in behind you. you happily found yourself pinned between them for the first time that night. mapi's lips were soft and tasted a little bit of whatever fruity drink alexia had in the pitcher for everybody. mapi pressed deeper and deeper with her kiss until she managed to pull a moan from your lips.

"come on, there are better places to be doing this." ingrid pulled you out of mapi's arms and into the car. she drove with a hand on your thigh the entire time. her fingertips dipped past the bottom hem of your shorts, nearly brushing against your underwear.

a part of you wanted to think that ingrid didn't mean to rile you up so much, but you knew better. ingrid wanted you begging and pleading with her to fuck you before the three of you managed to get into the bedroom. ingrid was more mindful of her touches whenever the two of you were in the elevator and hallway, but mapi wasn't.

"i bet you look unreal coming apart on my strap," mapi whispered in your ear. she grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back to grind against her. ingrid bit her lip as she glanced over at the two of you. she had been nervous before tonight about inviting you into their bedroom. mapi was jealous, but the woman was having her fun with you, which excited ingrid more than anything else. ingrid already knew how good of a fuck you could be, and now mapi would get to experience that as well.

"maria wants to fuck you in the ass," ingrid told you. your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, despite your lack of surprise. you had caught mapi staring at your ass in practice several times before. ingrid didn't say anything else as she tugged you into mapi's apartment. "you already know how i want you, don't you?"

"here?" you questioned. ingrid shook her head and brought you back to the bedroom. mapi rushed in behind the two of you. both women helped you strip out of your clothing before ingrid laid you out on the bed. your head was hanging off of the side as you watched mapi and ingrid undress each other.

it was a bit odd to look in from your position, but you were grateful for it. there was a sense of longing as you watched them together, but it was quickly overshadowed by desire when you caught ingrid's eye. she whispered something to mapi, who climbed onto the bed to join you.

"tu eres bonita," mapi mumbled against your skin. she started on your neck, kissing and sucking little marks to the skin there before moving south. you threaded your fingers in her hair, gently guiding her head down in between your legs. mapi happily moved where you wanted her, eagerly lapping at your cunt.

"don't go quiet on us yet," ingrid said as she cupped your jaw. she pulled your head back, forcing you to look away from mapi between your legs. ingrid pushed her thumb past your lips and watched you suck. she let you get a rhythm with that before she switched to her two middle fingers.

ingrid fucked your mouth with her fingers. the thrusts of her fingers were fairly shallow except for the odd one or two that she pushed in further to make you gag. ingrid pulled her fingers away from your mouth, making a show of wiping your spit off against your cheek as she did. mapi glanced up from between your legs to see ingrid slowly thrust her hips forward to have you deep throating her strap-on.

"fuck," mapi groaned as leaned back a bit to get a better view. ingrid shot mapi a warning look to continue with you. she glanced back down between your legs to admire the slickness of your arousal. mapi used one of her hands to rub at your clit as her other one focused on fingering you. "you're taking my fingers so well, bebita."

"don't let her cum," ingrid said. mapi let out a little whine, but ingrid assured her that it would be worth it. between them, you felt your stomach tighten a little as they spoke about the things they wanted to do to you. mapi got you right up to the edge with her fingers, but then pulled her fingers away at ingrid's insistence.

"if it was up to me, you'd be cumming all night long," mapi told you. she trailed kisses up from your stomach, moving to make room for ingrid between your legs as she did. ingrid positioned herself in between your legs, lazily stroking the head of her cock between your folds.

"we have all night, there's no need to rush," ingrid said as she pulled your legs up to wrap around her waist. she didn't outright thrust into you, instead grinding in a way that you knew was getting her off as well. you thought it was a bit odd that ingrid seemed to be stalling, but once you looked over to see mapi approaching you with another strap-on, you knew why. "(y/n) is very good at eating pussy. mapi, sit on her face."

ingrid had pulled your body back enough so that your head wasn't leaning over the edge of the bed anymore. mapi knelt over your face, surprised when your arms tugged her down to settle a little deeper. mapi didn't doubt what ingrid had just told her about you, but she hadn't expected you to be so eager in eating her out.

"you love the taste of maria on your tongue, don't you? she's already rutting against your hips like a whore. make her cum, and we'll both have you seeing stars. come on, i know how much you like showing off," ingrid said as she fucked you. ingrid knew how much her words affected you. she knew exactly how much you liked hearing her talk about how well you were taking her cock or how well you ate her girlfriend out.

"ingrid, i'm so close," mapi huffed out. her hips had been bucking wildly on your face as she ground her cunt against your tongue. ingrid slowed down her thrusts as she watched you push mapi over the edge. the angle wasn't good to see exactly what your mouth was doing, but she got a good idea. there weren't that many forms of stimulation that had mapi cumming that quickly, and ingrid knew from experience how much you loved focusing on the clit.

"do you hear that (y/n)? mapi's gonna cum for you, and then, you get to cum too. after that, we're gonna flip you over and fuck you until you're begging us to stop. i want personally want to see how many times you can cum on my cock," ingrid told you. mapi's body was spasming above you, but all you could think about was the way ingrid was talking to you. she had changed a lot since wolfsburg, becoming much more confident in her dominance than you remembered.

one of ingrid's hands moved down from where they had both been gripping your waist. there wasn't much room for her hand to squeeze in between your bodies, but ingrid found it. she knew that she could thrust into you all night, but if she wanted you to cum, you needed more. ingrid was happy to give you that. she wanted to watch you cumming and crying out her name with mapi's arousal absolutely coating the bottom half of your face.

your cries of pleasure echoed off of ingrid's bedroom walls. mapi was squeezing her thighs together as she watched you and ingrid together. she could tell that ingrid wasn't far behind you, the few little deep thrusts she took once you had stopped clenching around her being the trick to push her over the edge.

the squeeze of ingrid's hands on your waist were a bit rough, but served as a reminder of the things she could do to you. ingrid was the softest and most gentle person that you had ever met, but in the bedroom things were different. ingrid manhandled you a little as she flipped you onto your stomach. she leaned down and kissed you, serving as a distraction as mapi moved in behind you.

"are you okay with mapi fucking you in the ass?" ingrid asked you. the question was blunt and direct, enough so that you were blushing deeply as you nodded. "use your words. she won't touch you until she hears you tell her that it's okay. if you don't want that, we can find something else to do. we could take turns with your pussy if you wanted instead."

"i want this. i want mapi to fuck me while you're fucking me," you told them. mapi leaned over and started trailing kisses from your upper back down your spine. ingrid laid back against the pillows and pulled you up to lay on her lap. ingrid grabbed your jaw with one hand and pulled you in for a kiss.

behind you, you could feel mapi try to position you. she seemed slightly afraid to move you around like ingrid had been all night. ingrid seemed to sense this as well and started to help mapi get you laid out how they'd need you to be. you could feel the length of ingrid's strap pressing against your cunt, occasionally grinding as either of you moved.

"your ass is perfect," mapi muttered as she spread you apart. this wasn't a completely foreign position, but it was all still new to you. mapi moved slowly, easing you into each of her motions. at the first feeling of her tongue, you knew that you'd be back in their bed again. the sensation was addicting, and you longed to feel her tongue elsewhere on your body.

"you don't have to hold back with us," ingrid told you. she knew that you could be a bit shy about the noises you made while getting fucked. ingrid wanted to hear all of them, but more importantly, she wanted mapi to hear you. she wanted mapi to hear you completely falling apart with both of them inside of you. she wanted mapi to hear the way that you screamed out in pleasure once ingrid would get to fucking you again.

things had slowed down drastically as mapi stretched you out from behind. there was no rush to any of her movements, not even once she had you stretched enough to comfortably take her strap. it felt much smaller than ingrid's, which was still being ground against your cunt as mapi began to slowly thrust inside of you.

"how does it feel bebita?" mapi asked you. she leaned down, whispering her words into the shell of your ear. you shuddered, quiet moans and whimpers escaping you.

"good, so fucking good," you mumbled. "ingrid, please."

"we've got you." ingrid pressed a kiss to your cheek as she shifted her hips and began to slide inside of you. as much as ingrid wanted to pin you down against her body and thrust into you wildly, she knew that you needed to be slowly worked up. your arousal was dripping down onto ingrid's thighs, having made a complete mess of yourself, but you were far from finished. "mapi, you need to start moving."

mapi glanced down at you to check before she made any real movement. slowly, she inched her way inside of you. each thrust was shallow, and mapi made sure that you were comfortable before she started to get deeper. it was torturously slow, but ingrid allowed you enough space to move freely. mapi was so caught up in making sure that she didn't hurt you that she didn't realize you rocking back until you urged ingrid to move as well.

"this isn't too much for you?" mapi sounded surprised, and if it was any other time, you would have been blushing with embarrassment. now, you were shamelessly rocking yourself between the two of them, setting a pace that you could just barely handle.

"no, i want more," you told her. mapi glanced down at ingrid who just nodded. you felt mapi's hands grip your hips from behind as she began to fuck you harder. ingrid started to thrust up, matching mapi's pace easily. ingrid's thrusts were harder than mapi's, a small show of ingrid's somewhat hidden strength.

both of them fucking you at the same time felt wildly different than when you had been fucking yourself between them. you felt consistently fuller in a way that you hadn't felt before. your body felt like it was constantly on edge, just waiting for ingrid or mapi to let you know that you could cum.

"we're going to move you," ingrid told you. it was impressive how ingrid and mapi managed to completely flip your positioning without having to pull out. now, mapi was thrusting up into your ass from beneath you while ingrid rougly drove her hips into yours. she had your legs spread wide open as she fucked you, not allowing for any of the noises to be muffled.

"don't bite your lip. i want to hear you," mapi said as she grabbed at your jaw. she hooked two of her fingers under your jaw, holding your mouth open. you were sure that it had to be quite the sight, especially with the way that ingrid stared at you. her eyes flicked from between your legs to your face, occasionally stopping to watch the way your breasts bounced as you were fucked.

you were pushed well beyond being able to form anything coherent. mapi's fingers in your mouth didn't help your case, but they both seemed to understand your attempt to warn them of your orgasm. this time, ingrid didn't stop, fucking you straight from one into another. mapi stalled in her movements, waiting until ingrid moved to pull out.

"do you need anything?" mapi asked as she pulled you into her arms. you had been with couples before, and normally, you were forced out as soon as the fun was over. maybe it was a spanish thing, or maybe it was just mapi, but you liked being kept around for a bit longer and looked after.

"i'm okay. i can leave if you need me to," you said. ingrid shook her head as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"you stay right there for now. i'll be back, i promise." you weren't sure who the last part was for, but both you and mapi watched ingrid grab some clothes and disappear. you heard the door to her apartment shut, leaving you alone with mapi for the first time.

"do you want to take a shower?" mapi asked you. laying against her was nice, especially with the way her hand gently stroked your high and the outside of your thigh. you had been a bit nervous with mapi, knowing that your body was simply built different than ingrid's. however, mapi had shown your body love and attention while you were in her bed. "i can go with you if you'd like, or not. if we go now, we can be done by the time ingrid gets back with the food."

"together? you want to shower with me?" you asked her.

"we don't have to, but it will be quicker," mapi told you. you knew that there was more she wanted to say, another reason, but the two of you left it in the air. the idea of it sounded nice, so you agreed to it. you had no idea how intimate it was going to feel, but instead of running away from it, you let yourself lean into it.

mapi doted on you inside and outside of the shower. she let you borrow a pair of her sweatpants and a sports bra. the two of you sat on the couch wrapped up in a big blanket with a german reality tv show that ingrid had gotten obsessed with in germany queued up. you felt less like someone they had just brought over to fuck, and more included than you had thought possible.

even after the impromptu midnight snack and reality tv binge, they brought you back to their bed. mapi changed the sheets as ingrid leaned against your body, sleepy kisses pressed along the side of your neck. you curled into ingrid once the three of you were settled on the bed. she held onto you tightly, like she was afraid you'd run off if she did anything else. mapi laid on ingrid's other side, but kept one of her hands threaded in your hair as she scratched lightly at your scalp. it was all almost too much for you, but you openly embraced the comfort that you had denied yourself for so long.

[ceesimz]

Leave Before The Lights Come On

Title is a Arctic Monkeys song! This trope has been done more times than I've blinked my whole life but this is my version, enjoy :) (ps it's not too long but it's a lil bit spicy and perhaps slightly ridiculous - plus, are we shocked to hear im nervous about posting this? it's quite different to anything else I've written but here goes)

Award shows, charity events, dinners with red carpets. It's how things started months ago, and it's still how the story goes now.

Everyone knew what private but not secret meant nowadays, it seemed to be the go-to for basically all couples. Yet, very few understood the thrill of private and secret.

Every night spent at these things was a new performance for you both, dancing around each other with fleeting glances and lingering, teasing touches. A chance to start fresh over and over, something most couples never endeavour in anymore, but it's so addicting. A game of cat and mouse that always ends in the same way, and despite that fact, it's still intoxicating all the same.

"One beer please."

"Just a beer'll do."

You know who is next to you, there's no use guessing. It always starts like this. And when she slithers closer, elbows rested on the bar that she's slumped over compared to you standing with perfect posture and hands clasped around your own arms that crossed over your chest, the cuff links of her suit sleeves glimmer in your eye line. Her hands purposely move to fiddle with them, knowing your attention is on her hands and the rings that are scattered across her fingers. She knows you too well, knows your eyes unintentionally fall to that part of her whenever they're on display, and it causes the first simmer of something to bubble in your abdomen.

At once, the bartender places the beer bottles down in front of you both, each reaching out to grab it and turning to the other. With eyes holding the other's gaze, you and Leah take a swig of your drinks, a silent agreement that the night has begun.

To your dismay though, the scales have already tipped in Leah's favour as she gets the first laugh. She takes another sip of her beer, first moving her eyes from your face to the way your hands make the bottle look bigger than it is as you hold it with both, rather than Leah who holds it with just one. Then, she trails her eyes downwards and up again, smirking smugly at you before walking away, not without a brush against your shoulder.

You shake your head just as the host announces the event will begin in ten minutes and advises everyone to find their seats. Working with one of the most well-known magazines got you great seats surrounded by good people to network with, and though if your manager found out she'd probably retract all future invites, you couldn't care less about networking. Not when you were stuck in the most mind-numbing game of back and forth, push and pull, take and give. You could be seated beside some random Tom, Dick or Harry from a no-name town in England, or you could be sat beside someone like Serena Williams, and it'd make no difference.

Leah Williamson, your new girlfriend and possibly the most frustrating yet attractive person you'd seen, was in the room. That was enough incentive for all thoughts to fly far from your mind.

The last event you went to was probably the most notable for your relationship. It should have been a pretty important one for you to pay attention to, considering it was hosted by GQ, but how could you when a certain blonde in a scantily clad dress was begging to be your girlfriend all night? She had asked in just about every way possible, and you would have said yes from the first instance if it weren't for her attention being pulled away before you could get a word in.

From whispering it in your ear as she slipped past you during a conversation with some of GQ's most important employees, to handing you a serviette with words written on that still send shivers down your spine when you think back to them, and even meeting your eyes from across the room in your respective seats and mouthing the question 'Mine yet?' with an upward quirk of her eyebrows. If you thought that part of the night was memorable, you didn't want to talk about the visceral reaction you got thinking back to the after events that occurred in the comfort of your hotel room.

But now, here in the present, you found your seat at a table with shareholders and employees and celebrities scattered around it, distinctively uninterested in every single one of them. They try to strike up conversation and you let them, your workaholic autopilot kicking in to entertain their interest for some time. These things are always boring, that's what makes them the perfect environment for this kind of thing. Sure, some were more fun than others and both yourself and Leah had found them enjoyable in the past, but there was an added element to them now that you were quite sure you could never give up.

The host drags on far longer than needed and to you it seems they're rather self-indulgent, revelling in the fact they've got the attention of the room. They talk as if everyone is hanging on the edge of their seats, grasping onto every word they said, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. Or at least in your case anyway. Apparently your boredom showed a little too much, because the person beside you asked if you're alright at a lull in the first speech of the evening. You reassure them you are fine, just in need of a drink since your beer had already gone down by now, and with a thanks from yourself they turn back away from you.

Your eyes search the room then, giving in to the temptation of her, only to find blue eyes staring right back at you from a few tables over. Her hair is slicked back into a low bun and she has one too many buttons of her white shirt undone - she's hot and she knows it. You still can't figure out if that's annoying or, unfortunately, attractive. The aura that exudes off of her hits you even from across the room, a combination of confidence and a smugness that gets under your skin in the best way.

It's at this moment that a short intermission is announced, allowing for people to go to the bathroom or fetch a drink and some snacks, or whatever they care to do. All you know is that there's a certain person in the room you've got to see and you need a new beverage, so you head to the bar.

Except, you're stopped in your tracks along the way. A body blocks you from going any further as she side-steps in front of you and shoves a champagne flute into your hand. In her hand is a sweet Manhattan cocktail, one with a cherry in it that immediately catches your eye. This is your chance to equal the score.

Maintaining eye contact with her, you delicately take the cherry and, with the most innocent look you could muster from under your eyelashes, you bite it from the stem. Those same piercing blue eyes track every movement of yours, from the moment you snatched it from her drink to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. In the low light, you manage to make out the sight of her pupils tripling in size, and just like that, the cards are in your favour again.

Before Leah can react, you're sauntering away without a word having been exchanged, and you can feel her staring incessantly at you as you drop back into the ocean of people in the room. She curses under her breath, downs her drink, and heads back to the bar.

After that interaction, you actually did fall into an invigorating conversation with the people on your table. You discredited them, in the midst of your tunnel vision you didn't realise who it was you were sat with. Turns out, they're some fascinating people who you could really do with speaking to again soon.

It's as you're talking to one of them, offering to go collect a tray of drinks for the table, that someone leans over you and refills your glass with more champagne. Initially, you guess it's just one of the event workers, but then those damned Arsenal earrings jump into view and your senses are overcome with her perfume. If she asked why there were goosebumps on your arms, you'd shrug and blame it on the chill of the hall. But, your question is, where the fuck did she get a whole bottle of champagne from?

She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving only a trace of her signature scent in her wind. You jut your tongue into your cheek momentarily - that was a bold move by the defender. It obviously caught the attention of the people on your table who were feeling as if they may have interrupted perhaps a private moment, but you wave them off and swiftly switch topics.

To their rather inquisitive annoyance, they demand you go get the drinks you'd offered to get since you weren't going to tell them about... whatever had just happened. So you do, you take your champagne flute with you and wander over to the bar with a focused look on your face, waiting for the right time to strike and get your payback.

That happens sooner than you could have guessed, and it forces a smirk upon your face as you approach your prey that's trapped in a seemingly boring conversation, judging by the unimpressed look on her face. She doesn't see you coming, her arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is down-turned into a frown, another beer bottle in her hand. You see her sigh as you get closer, her head on a swivel but looking in entirely the wrong direction.

The set up is perfect, perfect for you to be able to walk past her straight to the bar with a little taunting. However, you're feeling bolder now, urged on by the alcohol in your system. Instead of a simple brush along her body, your free hand drops down to slide under her blazer and sleaze dangerously low across her toned back. It's a lingering touch, you don't pull your hand away until the very last second. You don't have to look back at her to know she's watching you go.

To both your individual irritation, the next hour or so of the night doesn't allow for anymore sly digs and heated encounters. It's so unbelievably dull, just ramble after ramble of people bragging and kissing each other's ass as they speak. It gets to around forty-five minutes of this bullshit before a spiteful plan forms in your head.

A few of the people on your table had switched seats, ensuring they get the most out of the night. You didn't care for it all, zoning out countless times so far, but when the guy beside you turns to you with a blissfully oblivious smile on his face, you know what you have to do.

The next however long, you converse with this guy more and indulge him in pointless topics that really are so fucking stale and tedious, but you have to play the long game here. And before you'd even done anything half as interesting yet, there's already daggers being forced into the side of your face.

It all comes to a head when you laugh and swat his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, giggling like a school girl at... honestly, you couldn't even remember. But he lavished in your amusement, shuffling his chair ever so slightly closer and throwing an arm around the back of your chair. He brushes his hair back with his other hand, exposing his less than favourable hairline, and really you have to hold back a gag at the fact you're doing this.

At that point, you decide you have to get away from him and his dreary, lifeless, and nonexistent charisma. So you throw one last look at Leah's direction, stifling a grin at her flared nostrils and completely unimpressed demeanour, before excusing yourself from your conversation and sliding out from your seat. Whether Leah had the guts to follow you or not, you weren't sure, but you were just glad you were away from that guy.

Unbeknownst to you, Leah had suddenly gotten up from her chair the second she saw you rise, and she was marching through the room to pace after you. The game was entirely forgotten for her at this point, the image of you with him tattooed on her eyelids. Immaturely, she had to stop herself from spitting at him as she walked past, settling for a warning glare instead.

You have all of two seconds to yourself in the bathroom, checking yourself out in the mirror, before the door slams against the wall with a resounding thud. A gloating smirk is on your face from the moment she walks in, and you stare at her for a moment then turn back to the mirror, pretending to fix your lipstick.

"Really?" Leah shrugged her shoulders more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before, holding her hands out in an outraged gesture. "You really did that?"

"S'just the game, Leah. You know that." You replied simply, resisting the urge to meet her stare.

It's silent between you both then, possibly the most charged silence you've ever found yourself in. Leah takes a few mindless steps around the room without a particular direction, eyes flicking back to you every second. At once, she stops, just off to your side, and slips her hands into the pockets of her black slacks, kissing her teeth and raising her eyebrows at you. The moment she goes to say something, there's voices coming from the corridor leading to the bathroom. You turn to look at her then, daring her to act first.

She does.

She takes full advantage of the moment, gripping your upper arm tightly and tugging you into one of the cubicles. You gasp quietly in shock, caught off-guard by her actions, and you grumble unintelligibly at the triumphant grin on her face. Her hands are tight on your hips, meanwhile yours are crossed over your chest in disapproval.

"Flirting with a guy? That's a new low." Leah taunted, each stroke of her thumb unintentionally raising the fabric of your black dress.

"Says the one that's so riled up, she dragged me into a toilet cubicle." You hit back, refusing to give in. Leah just shrugs, purses her lips, and takes a quick glance down to your now exposed thigh before looking back at you.

"I'm not riled up. You're the one getting antsy here, you know I'm winning and that's why you had to start feeling up that scraggly arsehole out there. Think again, sweetheart." Fuck, she might have gotten you there.

"Maybe I found him attractive." It's a weak defence, even you know that. Leah knew it too, if the slight raise of one eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Okay. One, you're in a relationship. Two, you're in a lesbian relationship. Three, you hear that?" She looks around in feigned confusion, cupping her hand around her ear briefly before turning back to you in what looks like a stupid, cartoon light bulb moment. "Oh yeah, you're pretty fucking gay!"

You roll your eyes and huff, shaking your head at her idiocy and turning your attention to the wall behind her.

"What was his name? Tell me about him, if he was attractive enough to feel the need to flirt with him." She was picking and choosing every teasing remark from the file in her mind to get under your skin.

"...his name was Dirk." The bark of laughter she lets out at that makes you flinch a little. Maybe his name was a little amusing, but right now to you there wasn't a single funny thing on earth.

"Dirk? Really? Did he come with a Swiss army knife and a granola bar in his pocket? Did he have a flannel shirt under his knit sweater? And a tent in his car, ready for a hike through the Grand Canyon?"

As it turns out, your last thought was a little far off.

The giggle bubbles out of you before you can think to stop it, and you lightly push Leah's face away from you with a hand to her cheek. She turns back to you with a grin, knowing she had won this evening. To be fair, she has won nearly every evening so far. She was on a winning streak you really had no plans of stopping. Not when it got you to this moment here, at the end of it.

"Out of all the guys in the room, I chose a pretty shit one." You surrendered in a murmur, Leah nodding.

"It's alright, look who you get to go home with."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she stepped further into your space, her nose nudging against your jaw where her mouth rested just above your pulse point. The shivers you got without even barely being touched were enough of a reaction for her. But, she was greedy when it came to you.

One arm slipped around your waist, holding you to her tightly as her large hand splayed out across your lower back. Her head dipped further down, her lips moving to press open-mouthed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

"Let's get out of here. I'm done now." She murmured into your skin, turning her face more toward your neck and leaving softer, slower pecks there.

"Don't you wanna get your payback? Otherwise you're giving up the win. I was more than ready to get back out there, the night isn't over." You were lying, you were more than ready to get the hell out of here, but you also weren't going to pass up on the chance to tease her just once more.

"I'll get my payback when we get to the hotel."

That's all she needed to say.

These nights had a certain characteristic to them, and that was possibly the most anticipated time of the evening. As the hosts draw out the end of the event, thanking people you've never heard of and have a large lack of care for, you and Leah were already gone.

Normally, it was a fierce wait, hanging on to the other's every move, everything else in the room simply just background noise, as you wait for who blinks first. Who gives in to the tension and ends the night before the lights come up, before the eyes of the room see you chase one another to the exit.

Tonight though, neither of you have the patience.

Regardless of the time you leave, it's the same situation every time for your organised driver; he drops you off and, under strict instruction by his management, waits for you to come back so he can drive you to the hotel or wherever you want to go. Except, you never come, he doesn't see you for the rest of the night once you enter the building. He's used to it by now, a little in love with it since he's getting paid for nothing, he just has to wait for your inevitable apology text telling him you won't be needing a ride home.

Tonight is just like the others - Leah ushers you into the back of an Uber with a hand on your waist, sliding in beside you and slamming the door shut with a smirk on her face after she gives one last glance around. There's never anyone watching, nobody knows where to look and nobody probably even cares, but she does it anyway. She could imagine the articles that might get written about her if the pair of you were ever spotted, and that fuels her even more. Maybe that's the alcohol in her system, but the thoughts run through her veins and she can't help but turn to you, grab your face, and dive into a kiss that's desperate and hot, and the tension of the night reaches its peak.

The cab driver just shakes his head, pulling away from the curb as the pair of you stay stuck in your own world. It's a few minutes later when you both pull away, cheeks flushed red and lips a tad swollen as you put your belts on. Straight away, Leah's hand falls to your lap and you hold it tightly with both of your own, looking up at her with a certain feeling swirling through your eyes that drives her crazy. Her hand moves, then, to the back of your neck as she pushes you towards her for another urgent kiss.

"You're lucky I'm not really the jealous type. I could have done a lot worse in there when you started flirting with Dirk." She comments breathlessly after, a displeased quirk to her mouth that hints she is in fact somewhat jealous.

"I'll make sure to do a better job next time then." You tell her in a feigned nonchalant way.

Leah stared at you then, her hand clutching the back of your neck as she gave you a look that warned you to not even think about such things. To be honest, you couldn't. You were hers just as much as she was yours. There was no other way to live than like that.

[cobaltperun]

Hi! I saw that you’re taking requests and I have a rough idea. I was wondering if you could write a fic with Lorraine day and a {G!P} reader who’s a masc fem as well. I was thinking the reader is a ranch hand who works for Lorraine’s parents. Lorraine does films with the people from the X movie and comes home when they aren’t filming. Reader has always been in love with Lorraine since they were children but never confessed due to fear of losing Lorraine. I was wondering if you could do a mix of fluff, angst and smut with a happy ending :)

About Time

Bottom Lorraine Day x Top G!P Female Reader (Smut - minors do not interact) (Request)

Masterlist

A/N: Before I start, there are already a few stories that more or less did the base idea in the request, the childhood friends, working at her parents’ farm thing, so I changed that part. Anyway, this is my final Lorraine story, ever. When I reopen requests again, she won’t be on the list, I just feel like I did everything I could with her. On to the story!

Word count: 2.6k

Regret.

That and frustration was all Lorraine felt right now. Why couldn’t he understand?

“You’re really staying?” RJ demanded once again, exasperated by her choice.

It was too hot to argue outside, yet here she was, refusing to go with RJ and the rest of her coworkers to film another movie.

“Y/N is sick, I am not leaving her,” she put her foot down, glaring at her ex-boyfriend. He couldn’t handle her acting in the movies and here they were, reluctantly working together because neither of them wanted to quit just as things were starting to go a bit better.

He watched her, opening his mouth to speak several times before throwing his hands up in the air and going to the van. “Don’t blame us when this movie blows up! Blame your childhood friend!” his tone turned mocking as he said ‘childhood friend’ and Lorraine clenched her fist to stop herself from reacting. At least he was finally accepting her decision and leaving, after almost half an hour of arguing back and forth.

Lorraine sighed, watching the van drive away before she went inside your house. You did some renovations since the last time she came here, you added wooden fence to the stairs, and by the looks of it you made that yourself. Lorraine walked through the old house, her fingers gliding over the various things you made and put together, the bookshelf, the cupboard, the fence, you knew how to work with wood.

You were in your bedroom, asleep, sick, the fever keeping you in bed over the past two days. The doctor came by yesterday, prescribing medicine and instructing you to rest. Lorraine knew you, though, she knew you wouldn’t rest unless someone forced you to. So, she stayed, pulling the chair closer to your side and sitting down. You were shivering despite the blankets you were tucked underneath, and yet you were drenched in sweat. For the first time in years you looked fragile, at least in front of Lorraine.

When she came back a week ago the two of you met to catch up, and you lifted her up like she weighed nothing, You were strong, your muscles forged by all the labor you did, and Lorraine never imagined she would see you looking like this, stuck in bed because of a fever. Against her better judgment, she sat down next to you, reached over and caressed your cheek before grabbing a towel and wiping off the sweat from your face and neck.

Seeing you like this only brought back the feelings she tried to bury when you were kids, how could she love you as anything more than her childhood friend? But she’s seen enough teasing glances from her female costars and enough annoyed and angry looks on RJ’s face to know she didn’t do a good enough job when she buried them. She didn’t dig a hole deep enough to hide what she felt, maybe deep down she didn’t want to do that…

~X~

It was hot, burning hot, everything felt heavy, your limbs, your head, your entire body felt like it was heavier than a slab of iron. Your eyelids alone must have weighed a ton, but you somehow managed to open them. You were met with darkness, illuminated only by the moonlight and dim lamplight. Who turned that on?

A sound of breathing caught your attention, and you winced as you turned your head to the side. Lorraine was sleeping on the chair next to your bed and you closed your eyes.

As if.

This was just another fever dream. She was long gone probably, going off to film another movie. With that thought in your head you closed your eyes and let the fever force you back to sleep.

Just for a moment, one tiny brief moment, you did let yourself think of Lorraine, you dared to allow that thought, that maybe it wasn’t a fever dream to invade your mind. You loved her, you just never told her, fearing you would ruin your friendship. Fearing you would speak up and be rejected and then pushed away because, well, Lorraine wasn’t like that. She wasn’t into you, she was into men.

And more than the rejection, the expected ‘no’ and unrequited love, you feared she would find it weird to ever be around you again. Sure, she openly told you she had nothing against same-sex relationships, and that she, in fact, supported everyone having a right to choose their partner. Still, those were other people, loving other people. Not her childhood best friend loving her.

~X~

When you woke up the next time you felt much better, with the temperature being more bearable. You sat up and saw Lorraine leaning on the chair, clearly uncomfortable, but sleeping nonetheless. Your eyes widened as you realized it wasn’t some fever dream whenever you woke up before. “Lorraine?” you spoke up, though your throat was a bit too dry, causing your voice to come out really raspy.

It was enough though, as she stirred and woke up. She blinked a few times as if she couldn’t believe you were awake and sitting up. “Oh, thank God, you’re awake!” she jumped into your arms, kissing your cheek and hugging you tighter than ever before. “You’re awake,” she whispered as you finally got over your shock and hugged her back.

“Easy, Raine, I’m okay,” you tried to help her but she just shook her head.

“It’s Friday night, you idiot,” she told you making you pull away to look at her, just to see if she was joking.

“But then,” you stammered, Lorraine was supposed to leave on Tuesday, so that meant you spent most of the week sick, and you didn’t remember anything.

“You’d wake up for a bit, but it never lasted,” she sobbed and you started vaguely remembering those moments, you managed to do the bare minimum to take care of yourself, but it was all a blur, like your body just did that because it had to.

“Sorry,” you pulled her into a hug. “I made you worry,” she didn’t say anything, just held you as close as she could and though you hated that you made her worry, you couldn’t deny you were happy she stayed by your side.

~X~

A few days later you made a full recovery, and were busy cooking a dinner as a way to thank Lorraine for looking after you, you made sure to include all the things she loved. She took care of you, and she missed out on a movie for you, so you felt like you should do at least this much for her. You set up the table, just as she knocked on your doors and let herself in.

“That smells amazing,” she took a deep breath and came up to you. “You didn’t need to make all of this,” she kissed your cheek while she held your hand.

“You didn’t have to stay by my side either,” you countered, pulling the chair out for her.

Lorraine looked at you as she sat down, she was still holding your hand and you found yourself getting lost in her eyes. “I was so afraid I was about to lose you,” she said, yet again, though she did calm down a lot when you began rapidly recovering.

You went behind her and hugged her, and much like you did so many times when you were kids you rested your chin on her shoulder. “It takes more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed, but your laughter was short-lived as Lorraine touched your cheek and turned your head a bit to the side. She looked down at your lips and you swallowed the lump in your throat when you realized just how close you were.

“Lorraine,” you hoped, you really hoped you weren’t reading this wrong as you leaned a bit closer to her.

“I love you,” she whispered, closing the distance and pressing her lips against yours. Her soft lips, gentle touch of her hand against your cheek, it felt right, it felt like it was about time for this to happen.

And you kissed her back, ferociously, needing to satisfy the craving you’ve had for years now. You kept one arm around her waist while you moved your other arm up, your fingers sliding up from her neck to her chin, to her hair, touching her, committing every single detail of her face to memory through touch alone.

“I love you too, I’ve loved you for years,” you said when you separated.

Lorraine leaned her forehead against your shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You sighed, suddenly feeling stupid. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” you explained making the girl snort.

“We’re both so stupid,” she returned your feelings, she loved you back, and she was being held back by the same fear.

~X~

You took the relationship slow, sweet dates, walks, holding hands and stealing occasional kisses, just slowly going from best friends to lovers. Though, lately you’ve been having some troubles keeping your hands away from one another, so the slow pace was likely going to change sooner rather than later.

The two of you were snuggled up on the couch watching a movie you rented until Lorraine moved until she was straddling you. “The movie?” you smirked a bit, though, in her defense, it was a surprisingly boring movie.

“I’d rather spend time doing something else,” she said before kissing your cheek.

“Yeah? Like?” you wanted to let her dictate the pace between the two of you, for her to take the first step toward more intimate sides of a relationship, for her to be comfortable before anything happened. So, instead of sneaking a hand beneath her clothes you just hugged her, slowly caressing her back as you did so.

“Mhm,” she hummed in your ear and left kisses down to your neck. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back as she sucked on a rather sensitive spot on your neck. “How about we have a bit of fun,” she suggested as she toyed with the hem of your shirt.

You raised your head to look her in the eyes. “Sex?” you guessed, your fingers twitching against her, and Lorraine just nodded, kissing you deeply and gently pushing her tongue past your lips. Well, if she was sure, you weren’t about to deny her. You lightly sucked on her tongue and lifted her shirt up, just enough to slip your hands under it and touch her bare skin.

She separated from you with a gasp, and she pulled your shirt over your head. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, lately whenever I’m filming sex scenes, I imagine you’re the one doing it to me,” her hand moved down your body and cupped your gradually hardening cock, damn, you nearly forgot she knew about it.

Was it a bit unusual to hear her say that and be turned on? Maybe. But it was the job she chose, and you weren’t about to make a fuss about it, as long as she came back home to you, as long as you felt her love for you in every kiss you shared you would support her, every step of the way. You flipped the two of you around and laid Lorraine down on the couch and took over, kissing her neck as you slowly lifted her shirt, hissing when her thumbs brushed over your nipples. “Where’s the rush?” you teased while nibbling on her neck, but she was absolutely in a rush as she tugged your pants down to release your cock. “Lorraine,” you grunted, fighting between wanting to rush this, and taking it slow.

She began stroking your cock, moaning softly in your ear as you cupped her breast and pushed your thigh between her legs. “Y/N,” she hissed as she rocked her hips back and forth, rubbing against your thigh.

You remained like that, tangled up, exploring each other’s body, taking and giving pleasure to one another. Losing the remaining clothes in the lust and passion, until you were no longer sure if you were burning up from the heat of the summer night, or from her skin pressed against your own, but you suspected it was due to Lorraine. Due to her hands, clawing at your back when you teasingly nibbled on her nipple, or her fingers pinching your nipples, or grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. Or if it was due to her lips, latching onto any part of you she could reach, or her tongue, dragging up from your chest to your neck. Or if it was the feel of her body in your arms, her back arching, her stiff nipples and supple breasts pressing against you, her muscles twitching at a touch she didn’t fully expect, or her warm pussy occasionally grinding on your cock. Maybe it was just her moans, whines, whimpers, all the small and quiet, or loud and unapologetic noises she made, or the way she said your name, causing shivers to go up our spine and your cock to twitch.

And before you knew it, before you could even take your time to understand just how long the two of you spent on the couch, making love and building everything up toward the next part, you felt her sliding a condom over your rock-hard cock. You weren’t even aware she had it, but damn were you thankful for it.

Lorraine spread her lower lips and kissed you softly, grinding against you and spreading her wetness over your cock before you pushed inside, taking her for the very first time. “Fuck!” you cried out, feeling her walls clamping around your cock, pulling you in as Lorraine peppered small kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“That’s it, give me all you’ve got,” she grabbed onto your arms, her fingers digging into your muscles as you slowly began trusting into her tight, wet, pussy. “Oh, Y/N!” she moaned, accidentally biting you on the neck a bit harder than she meant as you tucked an arm under her back and changed the angle, repeatedly rubbing against her G-spot with every thrust.

“Right there, hm?” you couldn’t lie, you felt quite a bit of pride at making her react like this, especially when you moved your other hand to her breasts. She writhed in your arms, buried her face in the crook of your neck, all the while rubbing her clit with her fingers. The sound of skin slapping together, the feel of her soft palm guiding you into another deep, sensual kiss, only for her to break it as she came only spurred you on. You looked her in the eyes, searching for any clue that you should stop, but there wasn’t one, so, while you stared into each other’s eyes you kept thrusting into her, chasing your own orgasm and hoping to make her come once more.

Judging by her expression, she was close, and you felt her chest rising and falling with each deep breath she took.

Lorraine wrapped her legs around your waist eventually, and kept you locked in place, as deep inside her as you could be as she trembled in your arms, a soundless gasp escaping past her lips as she came for the second time, pushing you over the edge as well.

The two of you separated as you pulled out and she just hugged you, holding you close as your minds and bodies settled down from the slightly unexpected, at least for you, experience.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Dibs

Summary- Eddie meets someone quite interesting on restock day at their favorite music shop

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

(my tag list is always open, please let me know if you’d like to be added 🫶)

Word Count- 1.7k

“Restock day.”

Eddie’s eyes shot open as his hand gripped the phone, nearly pulling the cord straight out of the receiver as he shot out of bed.

All he needed to hear was those two words and he was given the adrenaline needed to get himself out of bed and get ready all within the span of five short minutes.

He had finally finished pulling his shirt over his head before reaching back for the forgotten phone laying on his mattress,

“Ready in five!” He shouted to Grant on the other end, not knowing wether he had hung up or not.

His hair was still a mess, and he was certain the jeans he grabbed from the pile of clothes on his floor definitely still had dirt stains all over them, but he didn’t care. It was restock day at the local record store. That’s all he cared about.

Once a month he and the rest of the guys would wake up early and head over to be the first ones in line before the store opened. They’d be up and ready to go with their lists in hand of what to look out for, knowing that if they didn’t leave with at least one then there’d be hell to pay.

Eddie sat on his stoop, ready to go for whenever he spotted Grants car pull through the park entrance. He wasn’t out there for more than a few moments before hearing the gravel crunching under the wheels of a car that was definitely going too fast for those types of roads. They’d get a few dirty looks from a couple of older residents as they left the park, but it was a price they were willing to pay for being able to still get there on time.

Eddie ran up as soon as he could see the rusted bumper on the front, hopping into the back seat next to Jeff.

“Still on time?” Eddie asked as he fixed himself in his seat.

“Still on time.” Grant said back as he looked to Eddie in the rear view mirror.

“I think if we gun it on the back roads we’ll get there earlier than planned.” Gareth said as he turned from the passenger seat.

“We already go at least 70 on these,” Jeff argued, “let’s not try and kill ourselves like last time.”

“Last time wasn’t my fault!” Eddie laughed, “I was being a good samaritan and letting those ducks pass the road.”

“You slammed on the breaks so hard i almost flew through the window.” Jeff said, earning a laugh from the boys up front.

“I think i still have a rug burn scar from the seatbelt.” Grant laughed.

After a quick drive and debrief of the records they were looking for, Grant quickly pulled into the parking lot. Each let out a sigh of relief as they saw that there were only three other cars in the lot, a few people gathered outside the door. They got into their spot and jogged to join in the small group waiting to get inside, thankful that they got there before the swarm of cars and a few kids on bicycles entered the lot. Within five minutes the parking lot was filled and there was a line that reached almost out to the street.

They paid no attention to the crowd behind them, doing their best to patiently wait for those final agonizing minutes before 10 am. When the doors were finally unlocked it was like some of the people behind them had never been in public before.

They were shoving past to get to the newest pop releases, and the boys paid them no mind as they headed over to the much less crowded rock section to scan through the full bins of the owners newest finds.

The boys scattered, each of them looking through the various bins and crates, moving onto the next as soon as they finished flipping through them. Eddie was in the zone as he flipped through a few older records he’d seen time and time again, not even noticing someone flipping through the same bin on the opposite side. His fingers moved quickly and stopped as soon as he saw it.

Alice Coopers new album was finally out, and he knew it had to be his the moment he heard ‘Prince of Darkness’ playing in that John Carpenter movie. He grasped the top of it and turned to show the guys, but he was pulled back as he felt it being tugged in the opposite direction. Eddie turned back to see who was trying to get this record from out of his hands, and he stopped for a moment when his eyes met yours.

He didn’t know what came over him.

A girl, a really pretty girl, was stood at the other side of the crate of records, holding the top of the record on the opposite side. And you weren’t letting go.

The boys glanced over, Eddie already having grabbed their attention before only made them stare. He was just standing there. Standing and staring.

Your eyes were locked onto his. This same scenario has happened to you countless amounts of times. You’d spot a record or a tape in a shop the same time as someone else and waited to see who would give in first. And it was never you.

But this one seemed different to you.

He wasn’t like the other guys that had gotten into this situation with you. He wasn’t moving his eyes over your body or trying to get a peek at the logo on your shirt to see if you were even a fan of this kind of music. He was just looking at you, with those deep brown eyes that you couldn’t help but look into.

All you could do was look at one another, waiting for the other to take their hand off the record to finally get it into their hands. And there’s no way in hell you were going to give in.

The rest of the guys watched the interaction from their spots at the crates, their eyes widening as they watched Eddie slowly take his hand away from the record.

He smiled to you as he let his hand drop.

“All yours.” He nodded.

You looked down at the record in your hands and looked back up to him,

“What’s your name?” You asked him.

His eyes widened for a moment, taking a quick glance around to see if he was the one you were asking, earning a giggle from you.

“Eddie.” He said, pursing his lips, knowing that the guys were no doubt going to rag on him for not only letting go of this record, but letting go of it just because the girl on the other end was pretty.

He knew they’d do the same, he was just the first to do it.

“Thanks Eddie.” You smiled and looked him over before walking over around the crate up to the line forming at the counter.

Eddie watched as you walked away, smiling to himself as he went back to sorting through the records before him. The guys finished looking through their crates and slowly made their way over to Eddie, their records in hand, ready to head up to the register while Eddie still had nothing.

“What the hell was that?” Gareth asked as he stood next to Eddie.

“What? I’m sorry, should i have just ripped that out of that hot girls’ hand and said ‘dibs’?”

“No, i’m just saying you gave that up so easily,” Gareth glanced back over at you in line, “all for a girl?”

“A HOT girl. And who am i to deny a hot girl the right to listen to good music?” Eddie laughed to himself.

“Well good luck trying to find that record again,” Jeff said as he handed Eddie the Anthrax album he asked them to keep an eye out for, “a bunch of these have multiples but i don’t think i saw any more of that Alice Cooper record.”

“I’ll find it again. And if i don’t, it wasn’t meant to be.” Eddie shrugged as he got to the last record, pulling it out as soon as he recognized the Tesla logo on the front. He held it in his hands and took the Anthrax record from Jeff as they went to meet Grant in line.

Eddie glanced around and saw you at the front of the line, scribbling down something on a little piece of paper in front of you.

“How’d the search go?” Grant asked the guys as they huddled around him in line.

“Fine, except for the fact that Eddie gave up one of the only albums he was looking for to some girl.” Gareth groaned.

“What’s so wrong about that?” Eddie pleaded.

“She still here?” Grant asked Eddie, with Eddie quickly pointing you out as you finished up at the register, “Damn… Good call on that.”

“Thank you! Finally someone gets why i did it.” Eddie exclaimed, not noticing you approaching him until he felt one of the guys nudge his arm.

You smiled as you stood before Eddie, holding out a little piece of paper to him,

“Here.” You smiled as he opened it, watching his eyes widen a bit, “Just in case you ever wanted to borrow it.”

Eddie and the guys stayed quiet as they all looked at the slip of paper in his hands.

It was the written out receipt for the record you just bought, your name and phone number scribbled onto the front. Eddie quickly looked up to say his goodbyes, but by the time he was pulled from his trance you were nowhere to be seen.

They hadn’t even noticed the line moving in front of them until they heard a shout from someone behind them. They shuffled forward, Eddie neatly folding up the receipt in his hand and placing it onto his pocket with a smug grin on his face as he looked back to Gareth and Jeff,

“Which one of you was complaining about me giving up that record?”

The two of them were silent, Eddie laughing to himself as he turned to move with the line.

He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, quickly putting it into his pocket to keep it safe as they stepped forward with the line.

There was nothing he loved more than restock day.

[m-rshy]

a confession under the stars | azriel x reader

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: your feelings for azriel have been eating at you for the longest time, and on the most beautiful night of the year, you simply can't hold them back any longer.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: yippieee !! first time writing an acotar fic 🤭 it's a bit cliché but who doesn't love a lil bit of cheesy romance ?? :)

You paced around your room, rubbing your arms in a poor attempt to calm yourself. Starfall was supposed to be one of the rare nights where you allowed yourself to relax; however, your mind was running rampant.

Last year, you'd made the promise to confess your feelings to the Spymaster of the Night Court during the next Starfall, and now that the day had finally approached, you were beginning to think that perhaps that hadn't been the wisest idea. The prospect of confessing had been so much simpler a year ago—Starfall had seemed so far away back then.

It would be so easy to back out, to treat tonight as any other night, yet at the same time, you wanted—needed—to get it over with. To get the closure you'd been craving for the last ten years. It was now or never, even if you wanted to throw yourself off one of the many balconies of the House of Wind.

Your pacing stopped, your body stilling and your blood running cold as you heard a knock on your front door. A familiar voice called your name, the sound of it sending warmth throughout your entire body, coursing through your veins and rattling your bones.

A week ago, Azriel had offered to escort you to the House of Wind, and in your state of shock, you'd agreed.

The night had barely begun, and you were already having deep regrets.

You wriggled your arms to try and ease the nervousness that was building up inside of you, and with a heavy exhale, you glanced at yourself in the mirror before opening the door. You were immediately greeted with the sight of Azriel, his wings tucked behind his back and his face carrying a thoughtful expression.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

All words had escaped you the moment you laid eyes on him, so the most you could offer was a nod and a smile. You tried to create even the smallest semblance of normality as you stepped out of the house to lock the door, though it was futile as the Shadowsinger tucked one arm under your knees, the other wrapping around your shoulders.

Within moments, he shot up into the air, and your arms instinctively coiled around his neck. You didn't know if the rapid beating of your heart was from Azriel's close proximity, or the height of which you were in the air. No doubt it was a combination of the two, but you didn't want to admit that it was mostly the former.

You sought to distract yourself by looking out at Velaris, the usually brightly lit city now completely pitch black so the only luminescence would be that of the migrating spirits. You would have wondered how Azriel was able to navigate his way to the House of Wind with barely enough light to guide him, but being a shadowsinger, he was no stranger to sneaking through the dark.

He landed on the balcony where the other members of the Inner Circle were gathered, and you released a breath as your feet glided onto the sweet, sweet floor. Mor was quick to engulf you into one of her infamous crushing embraces, which you accepted gratefully before you endeavoured to greet everyone else.

Rhys took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, Cassian ruffled your hair (much to your dismay, as you'd spent quite some time trying to perfect it), Feyre beamed and encircled her arms around you in a warm hug, Elain smiled sweetly, Nesta placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently, and Amren offered a polite nod.

From the corner of the balcony, Azriel couldn't help but watch and be bewitched at the way you so effortlessly laughed and smiled with his family. It was a simple pleasure for him—watching the people he loved interact with the other people he loved. And as silence fell across Velaris in response to the sky illuminating, the spirits beginning to fall like a thousand shooting stars, he found that his attention was captured by the one thing that was truly radiant.

You.

Your eyes lit up at the view of the spirits, and for a moment you forgot about your earlier anxieties. Streaks of colour rained down from the heavens, and your mouth formed a gentle smile. It was so easy to get lost in your own thoughts, and forget that all you had to do was stop for mere second to see just how beautiful life could be.

Your gaze drifted over to Azriel, and your breath hitched when his eyes met yours. His eyes widened slightly—so slight that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost.

He put his fist to his mouth to clear his throat, and he gestured his head upwards. "The view's better from the roof, if you'd like to join me," he said.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you managed to dip your head in affirmation, and you followed him up to the roof. You settled down beside him, curling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes fixed on the horizon. You feared that one look at him would be enough for you to pour out all the feelings you'd kept bottled up for so long.

Even so, you snuck a glance at him from the corner of your eye. The spirits' light bounced off his features, highlighting his beauty, reminding you of every little thing about him that you so deeply adored.

You wanted to disappear when Azriel turned his head to look at you, but time seemed to slow down as soon as he smiled. The atmosphere was so perfect in this moment, and you couldn't help but wonder how easy it would be to tell him everything.

It's now or never.

The thought did laps around your mind, and you were sure you were beginning to sweat the longer you stared at him. Azriel broke eye contact first, a pit in your stomach forming as he looked back out at the night that blanketed Velaris.

It's now or never.

"Azriel," you began, and you had to clear your throat as the sound of your voice came out strangled.

"Hm?" he hummed.

He turned his head to look at you again, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. In fact, you couldn't even bring yourself to finish your sentence, and that urge to disappear came back tenfold.

"What are you thinking?" He encouraged you to continue, and you gulped.

"I'm thinking..." you said, your voice dropping to a register barely above a whisper, and you inhaled. "I'm thinking I'm in love with you."

Your body stiffened as the words escaped your lips, and you braced yourself—braced yourself for his rejection, for the words that you dreaded, but knew were inevitable.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Your palms were sweaty, and you didn't quite know what to do with yourself. You fiddled with the fabric of your outfit, played with a strand of hair that had strayed from the rest—did anything to convince yourself that you hadn't just sabotaged a life-long friendship.

"Starfall is arguably the most beautiful thing this world has to offer," Azriel murmured, and the words caught you so off guard that you forgot yourself, and looked up at him. He kept his eyes on the horizon as he continued. "However, when I saw you tonight, I couldn't help but wonder that perhaps that wasn't true. Perhaps there were other things more beautiful."

He looked at you then, a gentle smile across his lips. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is... I think I'm in love with you too." He shook his head. "No, not even that. I know I am."

In that moment, you thought you were dreaming. That had to be the only explanation. But the longer you looked at the way the corners of his lips curled into a smile, and the way his hazel eyes reflected the brilliance of the stars, the more you began to realise that this was, in fact, reality.

"Really?" you breathed out.

"You really think I'd lie to you?" he asked.

He brought his hand to cup your face, and you intuitively shuffled closer to him. His thumb brushed along your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine, and a part of you still couldn't believe what was happening.

As if sensing your doubt, Azriel whispered, "Let me prove it to you," and then he dipped his head to capture your lips in a kiss.

His lips were gentle against yours, and you could feel his shadows reaching out to caress your skin. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pulled him closer to your body, his warmth enveloping you. His mouth moved in perfect time with yours, filled with a yearning and tenderness you hadn't known existed.

You both of you pulled away with a sigh to catch your breaths, and Azriel looked into your eyes as if he was searching them. His shadows continued their exploration of your skin, brushing along your face, your neck, your hands, and any other part of you they could reach.

You laughed softly at the feeling, and upon hearing the sound, Azriel believed he was the luckiest male in Prythian—hell, in all of the Faerie realms. You were the embodiment of perfection; a piece of art crafted so meticulously by the Mother herself—a stark contrast to his rough and calloused nature.

But when you looked at him like that, with your pupils wide and your smile incandescent, all of his worries paled in comparison.

There were many things in his life he was unsure of, but there was one thing of which he was certain. Now that he had you, he was never letting you go.

[xxsycamore]

@venulus HA! YOU THOUGHT! I bet you received the previous notification and thought it was all over!!! Guess who impulsively came up with the perfect little idea for an additional ficlet and just HAD TO make it a thing >:) is this how it feels to be Clavis's accomplice? Well, you know it better than me~ Happy Birthday once again, hope you enjoy <3

[🥺] 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐…

CLAVIS:

"Is something wrong, little bunny? You've been terribly tense all this time."

Clavis's words snap you out of your thoughts, but you don't allow yourself to relax just yet. That's precisely what he wants! To make you lower your guard so he can surprise you when you least expect it. For the longest time, or rather ever since you started dating this talented, handsome, scheming, charming, strange, beautiful creature that is your Clavis, your birthdays have been just that. One surprise after another.

And yes, this is the point, yes this is exactly what someone would want for their lover, to catch them by surprise with a loving gesture - but you can't help the side of you who craves the ultimate proof of love. Namely, knowing him well enough to predict exactly what he's got planned for you.

So every step you take, you stop in your tracks with exclamation. Aha, when you step on this tile, you'll activate some kind of mechanism that will launch a confetti attack! But it never comes.

"You're puzzling me, my darling. Let's get you to the balcony for some fresh air, shall we?"

The balcony?! Where Cyran and the others are waiting to recite an ode of love that yours truly wrote for you, finishing it off with artillery fire for maximum emotional impact?! You shake your head enthusiastically, telling him you want to eat some cake now. Clavis smiles and nods, guiding you by the shoulders to the table he decorated.

As his beautiful gloved hand removes the big cloche to uncover the cake, you've already taken a step back in caution. Who knows what will jump out from the cake - if Clavis wasn't right there where you can clearly see him, you'd think it would be him that jumps out from the cake.

It's a normal cake though. Wait, it's a normal cake??

"Believe it or not my bunny, it is I who baked you this cake. As you can see, there's nothing funny about it - not on the outside, not on the inside. It was extremely hard for me, and I must admit, I had helpers, but at last, the result is here for your eyes to see. Happy Birthday."

As your knife goes in, you're almost expecting for the cake to crumple down as a mass of purple goop oozes out of it, but it never happens. You even bring the forked bite to your mouth, chew on it, gulp it down - and the only thing out of the ordinary is just how amazing it is.

"Is it any good? It might be written all over my face now but, uh, I... I'm quite nervous, haha."

You feel like crying, so you just throw yourself on Clavis' neck, thanking him a hundred times and apologizing that you doubted him some more than that. Amidst it all, you also make sure to tell him how absolutely cute he is.

Clavis grins widely despite how obviously embarrassed your comment got him.

Little do you know, this only served to successfully lower your guard.

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[k00sblogger]

Summary: When you score a job as a maid after being fired, you're surprised to find out exactly what your new job consists of.

Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex, overstimulation, pwp.

Pairing: boss!jimin x fem!reader

A/n: no part 2, sorry pookies

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"Y/n.." janae whispers, softly rubbing your back in an attempt to console you as you sob into your hands.

Today sucked, no better way to put it. You'd been working as a bartender for a long time now, the perfect job to make some cash while you complete culinary school.

Amongst the students in your class you were the only one not working as a server in some upscale restaurant, but you liked it despite what your peers said. The busy atmosphere, having to be quick with the drinks, it was all enjoyable to you.

All good things come to a end clearly. You'd never had the greatest relationship with your manager, but you wouldn't have expected him to fire you for showing up late once.

For fucks sake you were the perfect employee and the moment you slip up he fires you, it just didn't feel right. Nonetheless, you were too upset and wore down to look into deeper into it.

At least not tonight.

"Why don't you come work with me?" janae's soft voice rips you out of your troubled thoughts. The proposition can't help but make you laugh.

"As a maid? No thanks." you didn't mean to be rude, and in no way were you hating on what she did for work. You just didn't think the job was for you- you barely liked cleaning your own apartment so why the hell would you clean someone else's?

"Do you want a job or not?" she says, blunter than ever. The realization makes you groan and sit up in your bed. You didn't have forever to look for a job, so maybe her offer is what you need.

"Fine." you utter, making a mental note to go on a intense job hunt so you can quit this maid shit as soon as possible.

Janae smiles and begins grabbing her belongings, slipping her jacket over her arms and slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Well, i gotta get goin but i'll make a few calls and let you know about it."

You nod, giving her a soft smile to let her know your thankful that she's willing to go out of her way to do this for you.

She sees herself out after that- and you flop back down on your bed, getting comfortable under the satin sheets. You close your eyes feeling anxious, not really knowing what you've gotten yourself into.

You didn't have time to worry though, you needed a job and thankfully- you might just have one already.

______________________________________________________

THE NEXT DAY:

"So good news!" janae announces, swinging your door open and prancing in. You crawl out of bed with a scowl, rubbing at your tired eyes.

"Remind me why i gave you a house key again." you mutter, and she laughs at the comment as she flings some papers onto your nightstand. "So look, my boss referred me to a friend of his.." she says, getting straight to the point.

The announcement makes you raise your eyebrows, setting your hands on your hips as you listen to her. "They live near each other and he says the guys been looking for a maid."

You sigh, you weren't fond of the whole maid idea anyway but now the only option is working for a guy neither of you know?

"So now i'll be alone, perfect." you respond rather sarcastically.

Janae takes a seat on the bed, tapping the papers she threw down. "Look i know it's not what you wanted but why not give it a try? Taehyung wouldn't recommend one of my friends to just anybody."

She sounds so assuring you suppose that you might as well give it a shot. "What's that?" you ask, glancing at the papers under her hand.

"Oh! A copy of his contract." she says, eagerly handing it over to you. You take it from her hands, scanning over it without actually reading. "He wants an interview with you asap, he's looking to hire someone on the spot."

Holy shit, that was.. perfect.

"Don't forget it to read that beforehand- i gotta go!" she says, standing to her feet and rushing out of the house without another word.

You don't bat in eye at it, assuming she's running late for work as always. Punctuality was definitely not her strong point, but clearly it's not too big of a deal for her boss.

You set the papers down again, beginning to get ready with a huge smile on your face.

Maybe things weren't so bad.

....two days later

*knock knock knock* You stand at the tall door of the mystery man's mansion, hair combed to perfection and clothes ironed to perfection.

You had janae send you his contact and you'd messaged him about a interview time but that was about it- so you didn't really know who exactly you were meeting.

You look up with hopeful eyes as the door opens, and your shocked to see someone who looks to be.. your age? You weren't sure why you expected it to be some old prick.. guess you judged a bit too quick.

"Hi- I'm y/n." you say with confidence, extending your pretty hand for a handshake. He takes it with a smile, giving a firm shake before he steps to the side to allow you into his home.

"Names Mr. Park- but you could call me jimin." he says, and you nod- glad that you can finally see who you'll be working for.

"I perfer mr. park" you say with a smile, it just seems more professional. He nods and walks you over to his offices, pulling out your chair so you can take a seat.

"So, i heard you lost your job?" holy fuck, you were gonna kill janae. She didn't have to tell her boss the extent of everything.

"Yeah..uh- yeah.." your voice trails off and the silence is intense and awkward to say the least, terrible way for him to start the damn interview.

"No worries." he says, chuckling as he takes a seat in the chair across from mine. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want." his voice is soft and warm, easing the tension in an instant.

You thank him, and from then on the conversation just flows. He asks you about your interests, availability, your specialties, and after he's finished you feel that it went pretty well.

"So have you went over the contract?" ...of course you didn't. You were at fault for this, janae had given it to you two days ago and you suppose you just forgot about it.

Obviously, there's no way you were telling him that after the interview had gone perfectly fine. You were almost sure that you'd got the job.

"Of course- i just.. i left my copy at home." Lie. You hadn't read any bit of that contract, it was just so long- you didn't feel like it.

"It's all good, i have a copy you can sign." he digs through a drawer behind his desk, searching for a moment before placing the paper in front of you along with a pen.

"Thank you, sir." you mutter, signing the paper immediately. You still couldn't be bothered to look at it- especially not after you told him you read it all.

"Alright." he says, a smile on his face as he takes the paper from your hands and places it into a file folder. "The jobs all yours, glad to have you."

He extends his hand this time, and you shake it with pleasure. "Great, ehm- when's my first day?"

"Tomorrow, 8AM sharp." well you damn sure weren't expecting so soon, but you weren't doing much else so it was no problem.

"Perfect, see you then." he sees you out to your car, assuring you get into the car and drive off safe before he walks back into his house.

Nothing like your old boss you think, but you like it.

______________________________________________________

THE FOLLOWING DAY:

You groan as you finally lift from the floor, throwing the wet towel to the side as you take a short break. You'd arrived at eight am just as he asked, and it was 12 now.

You wondered how he expected you to clean this whole place on your own, after all it was no where near small. You'd been here for hours already and hadn't even finished the bottom floor.

If he wanted this done in a timely manner he definitely was gonna have to get some more help around here.

Luckily, he wouldn't be home today. You could clean on your first day in complete and utter silen-

The door creaks open before you can even finish your thought, and there he is in all his glory. You mean that literallt by the way, he's adorned in different types of jewelry and a nice suit that was probably from a luxury brand you'd never even heard of.

"Y/n." he says, greeting you quietly as he sets down the bag in his hand near the front door. So much for cleaning up the clutter there.

"Hi-" is all you say, giving him a soft smile as you continue wiping down the counters. You couldn't let his presence here distract you, this was already taking you a long time being alone.

"Everything going okay?" he asks, waltzing into the kitchen like he owns the place. (He does)

"Yeah, i haven't gotten to the upstairs yet but i will soon-" you say, biting the inside of you cheek anxiously. Hopefully he didn't think you were moving too slow, this was hard work for one person.

"It's all good." he mutters, grabbing a coffee cup out of the cupboard next to you. You divert your attention back to cleaning, this time focusing on the stove

The crumbs left in the little crevices make you roll your eyes. No wonder this guy needed a maid, he clearly couldn't clean to save his damn life.

You walk around him to open the cabinet under the sink, bending down carefully aware of the skirt you put on. It wasn't the best thing to wear to clean but you were in a rush this morning.

"You're not in dress code." you hear his deep voice behind you, and stand up to turn and face him. His eyebrows are raised and both of his hands are resting on the freshly cleaned countertop.

"Dress code?" you question with an awkward laugh, but your smile disappears when you see he's not finding anything funny. In fact, he's staring at you blankly, without a word.

"Um, we didn't speak about a dress code." you say, and you know you're right. You remember the conversation very well, and he never mentioned anything about what you should wear.

You just assumed you could wear what you pleased.

"It was on the contract." he says, crossing his arms as he stares at you. You curse yourself for lying, why didn't you just tell him you didn't read his contract??

Whatever whatever, this is your time to come clean.

"Oh yes- i..i just forgot!"

he doesn't reply.

"I'm sorry."

he still doesn't say anything.

"Do you want me to go?"

he's making you feel stupid.

"Mr.park?"

He finally lets out a sigh and moves closer to you, scanning over your outfit. "Bend over."

You weren't sure you heard him right. "What?" you say, not sure of what he's asking if you. And so he repeats himself- "Bend over, y/n."

You turn around and try to look over your shoulder, convinced there's something on your back maybe. "Is there something there?" you ask, innocent as ever.

"No, i wanna fuck you." he says it casually, as if he was asking you to get him a cup of coffe. Your eyes widen, practically buldging out of your head in shock. How fucking inappropriate could he be?

"Are you insane?" you rebuttal, looking at him as if he was crazy. Shit he was in your opinion, it's your first day and he's already coming onto you like some man whore.

He begins to laugh at you, making your face scrunch up into an annoyed glare. What the fuck was so funny? Who the hell laughs after being rejected?

"You didn't read my contract." he announces, and now you're confused. You didn't read it, obviously- but how would he know that?

"I did it just-" he raises his hand, cutting you off without having to speak. "You didn't, because if you did you wouldn't be so fucking shocked right now."

He walks away from you afterward, and you stand in the kitchen dumbfounded as you watch him go into his office and come back out in a matter of minutes.

He returns with a file folder in hand, the same folder he stuffed the contract you signed into. The same contract that you payed no attention to and sure as hell didn't read.

He flings it onto the counter, the same way you did when janae first handed it to you. You desperately wished you would've just read it as soon as she handed it to you.

"Read it." he demands, it wasn't a question. You oblige him, moving closer and beginning to read the very first page. It's not long before you come across the dress code.

•must wear the uniform provided

•must look presentable daily

"The uniform was left on the couch." he mentions, and you nod in embarrassment.

He gestures for you to continue reading, and you do so. Nothing seems to weird, that is until you reach the end of the rules and requirements portion.

•must be willing to engage in sexual activities with exmployer at any time they're on the clock.

"The fuck is this?" you say, immediately looking at him in concern. "This isn't what i signed up for." you protest.

"It is, though." he says, in a much calmer tone then yours. This was nothing to him, he's probably had loads of girls in the past do this for him. Whatever this even was.

"So you just wanna have sex with me." you say, throwing the papers back down to the counter as you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"No, you're still here to clean." he says, grabbing the papers and placing it back into the folder. "But- i want to have sex with you as well."

His straight forwardness makes you squirm, something about being so open about the matter was weird for you. "I can't do this." you mutter, this wasn't what you needed.

"You tricked me."

You wanted a real job, not this.

"Look, im not gonna force you to do this." he announces, picking the folder up and shaking it in front of your face. "If you want, i'll rip this contract up and you can leave now."

You stay silent, listening to him speak as you think about your options here.

"But, i also know you need the money. I won't make you stay here, but if you do it'll be by my rules." he's stern with his words, and you know he means it.

"There's no point of you being here if you don't meet my requirements, y/n."

You understand him very well, but you don't know what to do. You didn't know if you wanted to stay, or if you wanted to go home and continue looking for a job with no hope.

Which was right? You didn't know.

He grunts as he adjusts his suit, fixing the tie around his neck. "Do you want to be here, or not?"

You think for a while, not wanting to answer too quickly. You need to be sure about this, and you keep telling yourself if this isn't what you want, then you need to go home.

But somehow, you still find yourself muttering a quiet. "I want to be here."

"Are you sure?" he asks you, and this is your chance to say you're not- but you don't. "I'm sure."

You were sure.

He nods and licks his lips. "Keep cleaning."

You take a deep breath & do as your told, grabbing the windex and spraying the huge mirror. He's making you anxious with the way he's watching you, and you wished he'd leave again.

You're tearing off a paper towel when he moves closer behind you, now close enough that his back is touching yours.

"Sir-" he shushes you, rubbing up and down the part of your thighs that he can see. "You agreed didn't you? I wanna start right away." he mutters it into your ear, and it makes your heart pound.

This was a bit early wasn't it? Can't he just give it a couple days first? You're new here for fucks sake.

"While i'm cleaning?" you ask, and it almost comes out as a whimper. It was shameful how it only took him rubbing your leg to get you all squeamish around him.

"Just pretend i'm not here.." he whispers, slipping his fingers under the hem of your dress to pull it down. He lets them fall to your ankles, and you struggle to keep wiping the mirror as he takes in the sight of your underwear.

You chose a matching set today, not on purpose- you just wanted to feel nice. The choice payed off nevertheless.

"I can't.." you whimper out, titling your head down and away from the mirror. "You can" he contrasts, sticking his hand into the purple thong you were wearing.

"Tell me how your days been." he mumbles it ever so casually, acting as if your clit isn't at the mercy of his fingertips at this very moment.

He was toying with you, flicking the bundle of nerves ever so slightly and placing little kisses on your neck.

"I-It's been good." you force yourself to whimper out a response, your body liking this treatment though your mind is telling you that you should've already grabbed your belongings and left as soon as you found out what this job consisted of.

"More, what'd you do?" he asks, and you can hear the jingling of his belt as he fumbled to get it off.

He moves hastily, soon rubbing his bare cock against your folds. "I..I prepared your dinner, it's in the fridge." you respond, hand refusing to move to continue wiping the glass.

"That's good, what'd you make me?" a gasp falls from your lips as he forces his way into your tight hole. He takes a sharp inhale too, the feeling of you wrapped around him a bit more than he himself could handle.

"Please.." jesus you don't even know what your begging for, all you can think about right now is the way he feels inside of you.

"Please what?" he counters, gripping your shoulder as tight as he could to fuck you back onto his dick. "Got me so hard, knew exactly what i wanted to do to you when you showed up in my office."

Something about that made you smile. Talking during sex wasn't something you were particularly used to but you damn sure liked it.

His dick slides in and out of you with ease, slipping out every so often due to how wet he's got you. It's not long before he's fucking into you without much care in the world.

He knew you were enjoying it though, feeling how you clamped down on him even tighter the rougher he got with you.

His hand pulls at your hair, wrapping it around his hand and tugging it as if it was some leash. "Such a pretty pussy, all mine now-"

You try your best to hear him over your little whimpers and moans, only growing louder when he moves his hand under you to play with your clit again.

His fingers are wet, and your almost sure he spit on them before playing with you. "Sir-" you rasp out, growing warm with the way his chest was pressed to your back.

"Hm?" is he all he manages to get out, too concentrated on your lower half. His eyes never left your ass, obsessed with the way it jiggled each time he thrusted into you.

He slaps it once just for his own pleaure.

And then a few more times when he hears you moan at the first.

"G-Gonna cum!" you're sweating now, still trying your best to fuck yourself against him to finally get yourself to the orgasm you've been waiting for.

He lets you do the work for just a moment, watching your pretty body work itself on him. "Just like that- cum for me.." his voice trails off on its own, and he bites his lip hard in a attempt to not let out a groan.

When you feel his hand reach around to press down on your lower stomach, you explode. You're left squirming under him all over again, squeezing his cock tight enough to make him pull out before he can cum inside of you.

He gets himself off after that. Staring at your used cunt as he jerks himself off to release. The spurts of his cum land all over your lower back, and you don't stand up properly until he's all finished.

"Wait, shit- bend over again." he says, and you comply without question.

He onto his knees behind you, bringing his hands up to take a nice handful of your ass cheeks. He licks his lips before he licks off anything left behind.

Clean up what you mess up right?

He lets out a loud grunt, repeatedly licking over your clit even when there's nothing left.

"Stop- fuck! stop!" you cry out, not ready for him to give you another, at least not yet. You reach your hand behind you in a attempt to push him away but you fail miserably, getting nothing but a harsh smack to your ass.

He only stops when you begin to thrash, and pulls away before you get too overstimulated.

"Turn around." he mutters, pulling up his pants as you breathlessly turns to face him. As soon as you get the slightest glimpse of his face, he brings his lips straight to yours.

His lips are softer than you expected, and the way he kisses is much different than the way he fucks. You lick your lips when he pulls away, giving him a shy smile like he wasn't inside of you less than five minutes ago.

"Thanks?" you mutter, not sure what to say. What do you say after getting fucked by a guy you'd only just met? Its strictly business you suppose, but still.

"No need for thanks." he says, kissing your cheek like a boyfriend would his girlfriend.

"I'll have a check for you by tomorrow yeah? Finish up just the downstairs and you're good to go for today."

Was that it? He just fucks you and sees himself out just like that? You weren't sure what you expected, but it damn sure wasn't that.

...

That same night your on the phone with janae, twiddling your fingers as she rants about her day- but you're too busy thinking about your own.

Should you tell her?

"Ah fuck stop touching that!- sorry y'know how my nephew is." she laughs. "How was your first day at work by the way?"

Holy fuck, the long awaited question. "It was good.. really good." you say, deciding then and there you should probably keep the details to yourself.

"I figured so, i had a late shift and my boss told me mr.park seemed to be in a good mood today." you smile to yourself at the comment, and find yourself wondering if it was because of you.

"Oh really?" you ask, trying to make yourself sound surprised.

"Mhm- and speaking of that.. i have good news!" her voice suddenly amps up and you raise your eyebrows though she can't see you. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Well, y'know how i mentioned my boss was moving away?"

you nod.

"So, he did me a couple favors and he said mr. park would be happy to have me! We'd be doing the same job!"

your smile drops instantly, what the fuck.

"Twins!! Aren't you happy?" she asks you, excited as ever.

"I've gotta go janae."

(requested by @parkjiminspersonalhoe )

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 4)

A/N: it took me foreverrrr to finish this, but at last its here and thats what matters!! this is the final part of this mini series, hope you guys enjoyed their dynamic

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The past two days Harry has questioned quite a few times whether he somehow ended up in a parallel universe or maybe someone has been playing a very sick joke on him. Either way, he wants it to never end.

Y/N hasn't left his house since the night of  the break-in. In fact, she barely left… his arms, his bed… his mind. Not that he is complaining, waking up to Y/N in the morning, having breakfast with her, showering with her, spending the day just coexisting, always spending time together have been his personal piece of heaven. It’s been quite a sudden change, but he would quite literally do anything to keep it this way for as long as possible. 

Today they are forced to leave their cocoon though. Y/N has to go to the police to do some paperwork about the break-in, though there hasn’t been any news about the case unfortunately, then later they have to hit up the studio for a session. But at least the morning is theirs. 

When Harry steps out of the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt his hair is still damp as he makes his way around the bedroom, digging through his dresser for a pair of socks and plugging his charger into his phone before he walks out, heading into the kitchen where he knows Y/N is already sipping on her morning coffee just like she was yesterday and the day before. She made herself home quite fast, but he doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves the thought of his home as a trustworthy place for her as well, where she feels confident enough to do whatever she wants or take whatever she needs. 

Sitting by the dining table, her legs are pulled underneath her, the coffee is still steaming in the red mug she silently chose for herself to use during her stay. She is scrolling through probably some news page on her phone, playing with the hem of her (his) sweatshirt. 

“G’Morning,” Harry smiles as he enters, though they only separated about fifteen minutes ago when Harry left her in bed to shower. 

“Hi.” Her face brightens at the sight of him and it clutches his heart every time. 

As strange as the movement might have been just a week ago, now it feels as natural as breathing when Harry walks past her and presses a kiss to the top of her head before continuing his path to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as well. 

They drink it first, talking, checking emails, getting ready for the day and then the phones are put away as they make breakfast and eat, strictly only focusing on each other. It’s been their usual without ever agreeing on it. 

And Harry loves every moment of it. 

“Do you want me to go to the station with you?” Harry asks over their now empty plates. 

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s fine, it’ll be quick. I’ll meet you at the studio.”

“Alright.”

Hugging her knees to her chest, she is staring out the window that faces the sunny backyard while Harry’s eyes are glued to her face. While she is seemingly lost in her own thoughts, Harry’s mind gets into a spiral on his own. He’s been dancing on the edge of a burning question, but hasn’t found the right moment to ask it and quite honestly, he’s also afraid it might ruin their little bubble as well, so he’s been hesitant to bring it up. But it keeps nudging the back of his head whenever he gets lost in his whirlwind feelings for her. 

What are we actually doing?

The amount of unsaid things and changes that happened lately are starting to pile up and he knows they need to address them sooner or later. It’s not just about the past few days, but what’s been happening even before the break-in. Their dynamic had shifted immensely, but they never talked about what it all means. Now they act like a couple, share a bed, kiss, touch, have sex and talk like it’s completely normal and expected when just a few weeks ago they were ready to murder each other over the tiniest disagreement. 

Her phone buzzes on the table and reaching for it she turns it over to check the screen.

“I better start getting ready,” she sighs. Harry just nods as he watches her stand up, she brings her plate and mug to the dishwasher and then heads back to the bedroom, brushing her hand over his shoulder as she walks past. A gentle move, but it bears so much for Harry. 

Being apart from Y/N almost feels wrong. After she leaves to the station Harry runs a few errands, picks up a package and then heads to the studio, only thinking about whether she’s alright or not. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for a text or a call from her, like a lovesick puppy. Somewhere deep down he knows that he shouldn’t feel this deeply for her at this point, when everything seems fragile and ready to spill any moment, but he just can’t find the will in himself to care and do something about it. 

When she finally texts him that she’s on her way, he can finally breathe as relief washes over him. He tries to busy himself and not stare at the door, waiting for her to walk in, though he kind of fails. Miserably.

“Hi,” she greets him walking into the studio and Harry practically jumps to his feet as if his chair was on fire.

“How did it go?” He asks, his hand twitching to reach out to touch her, but he decides against it at last. She drops her bag onto the sofa that’s pushed against the wall before puffing out a sigh as she turns to face him.

“Nothing extra. Actually, nothing. I mean, they know absolutely nothing, there are no clues, nothing. Whoever did it was a genius and made sure to leave no trace behind.”

“How is it possible that they have zero clues? There must be something, a fingerprint, footage, anything.”

“There were a few fingerprints, but no match came up, so it’s useless at this point.”

“So then what happens now?”

“The case stays open for a bit, thes keep working on it, but honestly, I feel like there’s no point. They won’t find anything so I’ll just have to move on.”

“And go back to your place?” Harry asks. Part of him is panicking by the thought of letting her go back there on her own and then the other one because he doesn’t want her gone. He’s selfish and wants to keep her with him at all times, he is not ready to pop the bubble they’ve been living in the past days. 

“I can’t camp at your place forever.” Her words and face say different things. Because the way she is smiling at him as they both take seats tells him that she might actually like the idea of staying with him.

And he likes it too. 

“Let’s just put this all aside, okay? I want to work and forget all this shit.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. 

It’s easy for them to slip into work and leave everything else behind as music takes over their mind. It’s their first time working together since the shift between them and it appears that the change hasn’t been only affecting their private dynamic, but their professional as well, luckily in the best way possible. It is as if they could sense each other’s thoughts, they barely even have to communicate when they want to change something, the other just knows, just like how quick they share new ideas, barely saying a few words before the other is already making it happen. 

“As much as I would love to keep going, I think we should call it a night,” Harry turns his phone’s screen towards her so she can see how late it is now. Almost ten pm, they’ve been working for hours and now that Harry noticed just how long they’ve been here, they both can feel how tired they actually are. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll finish this when we get home then. I really want to get it done.” Sighing she shuts her computer and while she packs her stuff scattered around the studio, Harry is trying his best not to point out how she referred to his place as home. 

But the pleased smirk that’s hiding in the corners of his mouth is kind of a tell what he is thinking about. 

She rests her head on his shoulder in the back of the car on the drive home and once again, Harry selfishly ignores the urge to talk about their current state and just enjoys her closeness. Walking into the house he heads to the kitchen to make a tea for them both while she sits by the dining table to finish up the editing she started in the studio. They are talking and joking around and Harry can’t wait to drag her into the bathroom for a shower once she is done.

He is scrolling on his phone with his tea in his other hand when he can sense the change. He feels it before she says anything. 

Looking up he can tell she is tense, her body appears frozen as she is staring at her computer. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, but she doesn’t answer, just starts vigorously typing and opening things on the computer. 

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening again,” she whispers as Harry slowly approaches her.

“Y/N, what’s the matter?”

“It’s… No, no!” she chokes, jumping to her feet, looking more anxious than he has ever seen her. Harry tries to lean closer to have a look at the screen, but she practically pushes him back, grabbing the laptop from the table. 

“Don’t fucking touch it!”

“What the fuck is going on?” Harry asks, now starting to lose his mind over not knowing what the problem is, what caused her to act this wild all of a sudden.

“It’s not there! They are all gone!”

“What’s gone? Did you not save what we recorded today? It’s okay, we can–”

“No! I’m not talking about what we did today! All of my unreleased songs! Everything I never gave away to the artists I worked with in the past year! They are all gone!” 

Her voice keeps switching from a whisper to shouting in just a matter of seconds as she is anxiously pacing the floor back and forth with the laptop still in her hands. 

“What do you mean gone?” Harry asks, still pretty puzzled about what’s going on.

Then Y/N stops and the look she gives him sends a shiver down his spine. It’s as if she has turned into a whole different person in the past few seconds. 

“Did you do it?” she asks in a tone that without a look of her expression would sound normal, but her eyes are bewildered and Harry’s pulse just keeps rising as he stares back at her.

“Do what?”

“Did you fucking take them? Huh? Was it you?!”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about what you already did once! Fuck’s sake I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” 

She storms past him, into the bedroom and Harry follows her, his anger mixing with confusion as he is trying to put the pieces together, with not much luck so far. When he catches up with her, she is throwing her stuff into her suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving!” she snaps. Harry tries to get closer and make her stop, but as soon as his hand reaches her shoulder, she jerks away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N slow the fuck down and tell me what’s going on!” he pleads, his growing fear of having to watch her leave taking over his mind. 

“Don’t act like you have no idea! I really thought what happened then was a one time thing, I made myself believe that you were young, maybe someone influenced you! But it’s not the same now!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about when you stole my fucking song! That’s what I’m talking about!”

Even though she just said it clearly, Harry is now even more lost about what’s happening. 

“Hold on! I stole your song? What the hell?!”

“Oh, don’t fucking act like you have no idea what I’m talking about,” she laughs bitterly as she keeps packing her things, like she is in a hurry to leave. “I really fooled myself into believing you changed, but this is proof you did not.”

“Y/N, I never stole anything from you! Would you stop packing and just talk to me?”

“How dare you say you never stole from me! Drop the fucking act, Harry! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Night Changes was my song, I showed it to you and then oh so conveniently I was not signed for the next album and the song was on it! Right after it disappeared from my computer!”

It takes time for Harry to even process her words. He is raking the deepest parts of his memory to put together what she is talking about and when his thoughts start to clear, she is already on her way out.

“Y/N wait!” He runs after her, catching up with her in the hallway. “I never stole Night Changes!”

“Then explain to me how the one song I showed you ended up on an album I never worked on?!” she snaps, suitcase still in her hand. “And explain how it happened again? I let you close and it happened again!”

“It looks fucking nuts, but it wasn’t me, Y/N, I promise!”

“We’ll see about that once the police have investigated this hell of a coincidence.”

That’s the last thing she says before walking out, leaving Harry in the eerily empty and silent house, with an actual hole in his chest. 

Y/N didn’t plan any of this. She did not plan the part where she got so close to Harry that his absence is now almost causing her actual physical pain, and definitely not the part where he betrayed her.

Again.

Or at least that’s where all the evidence is pointing. 

She shouldn’t have let him get this close to her, because now she wouldn’t feel this shitty and naive and mostly betrayed. 

She still remembers how it felt when she first listened to Night Changes just months after the file that had her version disappeared from her computer. She felt physically ill as she stared at the screen where a photo of the boys was shown but all she could look at was Harry in the picture. Part of her refused to believe that he had anything to do this, but her rational part won. There was no way he was innocent, he was the only person she showed the demo and then it was magically One Direction’s next hit. 

She despised Harry for using her in such a disgusting manner, he betrayed him in such an open and arrogant way, the song was getting popular and he must had known that she would hear it as well, but he did nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

For a long time she tried to put her disdain to the side and focus on her career, that’s why she agreed to work with him again. And also because there was a tiny sliver of hope somewhere deep down in her that still believed that Harry was innocent. 

She let that hope grow and her feelings for Harry as well, only to fall face forward again, ten times harder than before. 

Two days go by in a blur. She is back in her home but also tries to spend as little time there as possible, camping at friends’ and her sister’s place whenever she can. She tries to get her mind off of everything with work, but music seems to be betraying her as well, because somehow she always ends up thinking about Harry. 

He stopped blowing her phone up a few hours after their fight. She had like a million calls from him and messages filled with him begging for her to pick up the phone, but she ignored them all until they stopped. First thing in the morning she contacted her lawyer and she also gave the new information to the police as well. Harry might have not been the one who broke into her place, but it very much seems like he had something to do with the missing files. 

Then it’s radio silence and it kills her nerves. She finds herself often with her phone in her hand, her finger hovering over Harry’s contact, but she always talks herself out of contacting him. She knows she probably can never talk to him, ever. 

Another two days later is when her lawyer, Violet finally calls her with news. 

“So, good news, they actually know who broke into your house,” Violet announces and Y/N’s pulse jumps immediately.

“Really? Who was it?” she asks and all she can think about is how she hopes the person has nothing to do with Harry, even after everything. 

“Do you know a… Daryl Parker?” she asks, as if she’s reading the name off of a paper. Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“What? Daryl? The assistant?”

“Yeah, him.”

“But… how? And why?”

“Sweets, let’s meet at the station, they are expecting you in for some more paperwork and I have other news as well.”

“O-Okay.”

Y/N feels dizzy arriving at the police station, still not quite sure what to think of Daryl breaking into her home and possibly stealing her work. He did try to push her to give him more, but she never thought he would go this far just to get those songs. 

Violet is already there when Y/N walks in, waiting with an officer and the three of them move to a meeting room.

“So, Daryl Parker admitted that he broke into your house about a week ago and he was also the one who stole the files you told us about later,” the officer starts to explain the story, while he lays out a stack of paper in front of her that she has to sign. “While he was the one who did the dirty work, he is not the only one to blame.”

“Okay, then who?” she questions.

“Are you familiar with who Daryl’s boss is in the management company?” the officer asks and Y/N shakes her head no. She never actually met the guy, it was always Daryl who kept in contact with her, which at a point seemed weird, but she didn’t think much of it. 

“Daryl worked for Blake Finnegan,” Violet reveals and Y/N stares back at her as the puzzle pieces start to fit together slowly. 

“The guy who…”

“Yes, Blake from Modest, who worked with One Direction,” she confirms. 

Y/N finishes with the signing and pushes back the papers to the officer, thanking his work and he leaves them alone so they can debrief the rest of the story. 

“This was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Blake was the one who stole your work back then and then made sure you didn’t return for the next album so he wasn’t busted. Daryl wasn’t working for him back then, but he was given so much track record from the past that they were able to recover not just the files they stole now, but the ones from the past and the data shows that it was all originally created by you.”

Y/N’s mouth is going dry as she tries to keep up with Violet and all the information she is hearing. 

Blake was the culprit of it all. He stole her work before and he did it again, hidden behind Daryl so she didn’t suspect him. 

“Does this mean that Harry…”

“That Harry Styles didn’t steal shit from you?” she laughs. “Yeah. It was an unfortunate coincidence, though he will be questioned because he heard the song before, he should have recognized it.”

“Wait, he will be actually questioned? When?”

“Um,” Violet checks her watch. “He’ll be here in about a few hours.”

The room is spinning with her. Harry is going to come here and be interrogated about this whole ordeal. Now she knows he wasn’t the original bad guy here and that damn hope is back in her chest that he wasn’t involved at all.

“Is there… Is there any chance they will let me talk to him first?” Y/N asks, staring back at Violet’s, watching as her straight expression turns into a smile slowly.

It feels like Harry hasn’t slept in days. He has, of course, but not nearly enough he should have. And he knows exactly when his random insomnia started. 

Walking into the police station with his lawyer he is ready to tell them everything and anything. Well, that’s what he’s been doing already, so it’s not a change. 

When Y/N stormed out of his place panic set in first, he tried to call her, text her, he was ready to bang on her door to beg her to speak to him, though he is happy he didn’t do the latter. When he realized she was not going to talk to him, he went into solution mode. 

He already knew who was to blame, he couldn’t believe that Blake Finnegan was still haunting him even years after cutting all ties with him. He was always the shadiest person around and he had quite a few stunts even back then, so it’s no surprise he went as low as stealing music. 

The eerie feeling of being at a police station is strong in his gut, even though he knows he is innocent. They are welcomed by an officer and then led down the hallway towards a meeting room. 

“A colleague will be here shortly, Mr. Styles,” he officer says as he opens the door for them. Harry just nods and steps into the room, taking one of the chairs around the small table in the middle. His lawyer is typing on his phone, pacing the floor back and forth as they wait and then the door finally opens again, but instead of seeing an officer walk in, it’s Y/N.

Harry’s stomach drops and he jumps to his feet instantly. 

“Y/N, hi!” he breathes out, looking at her frantically as if she was a ghost. 

“Hi. Can we talk?” she asks, her eyes landing on the lawyer beside Harry. “Alone.”

“I don’t think it’s–” the man starts to protest, but Harry is quick to stop him. 

“Leave us alone,” Harry says. The lawyer seems surprised and for a moment it seems like he will protest, but then he just takes a deep breath and walks out of the room. 

Once the door is closed behind him and it’s just the two of them, Y/N hesitantly takes the seat across the one Harry has been occupying.

“Did you… have anything to do with it?” she asks after a rather long pause. 

“No,” Harry answers instantly.

“For real?”

“Y/N, I would never steal your work or anyone else’s, really.”

“So then explain to me how this coincidence happened.”

Harry takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat.

“When we were in the band, we were always overworked. One album after the other with tours in between, I was… practically a zombie for most of the time. When Blake showed us the song, it was familiar, but I just never realized why. I’m not proud of it, but I just… never questioned it after. Not even after he said that you decided not to return for the next project.”

Y/N scoffs.

“I had no decision in that. I was just told that I wasn’t needed.”

“I know that now,” Harry breathes out. “But back then, I just let it go. And I’m so sorry for that, I should have recognized the song, I should have asked why you weren’t returning, I should have contacted you, so maybe… I’m not that innocent. I should have done all of these but I didn’t. I’m very sorry for them. But I never teamed up with Blake against you. I hated his gut.” He laughs bitterly. “I always had a bad feeling about him and I wanted off the team the first given moment.” 

Y/N can feel her throat closing up as she stares back at Harry, listening to his every word as if it really was an interrogation. 

“I never understood why you hated my guts,” he adds with another laugh. “I didn’t understand, because we were so close back then and when we met again you were… so different, but only towards me and you never told me why, not even when I asked you. I wish you told me about this, but I understand why you didn’t want to even… talk to me.”

“I thought you betrayed me,” she whispers, tears dwelling in her eyes. “You were the first person I trusted in the industry and I thought you straight up betrayed me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I will do anything to get you the rights back on the song and I will pay you every penny you deserve for it.”

“I don’t care about the money,” she shakes her head. “Losing you was way more painful than losing the money I could have made from the song.” 

She takes a shaky breath and blinks up at the ceiling, a few tears rolling down her cheeks, but she is quick to wipe them away. Harry’s whole body is itching to stand up and go over to her, to hug her and be physically close to her, but he stays still.

“You know what’s funny?” she laughs through her tears. “I told myself that I accepted this project only for professional reasons, because it’s good for my career. But all along, I had this… hope inside me that I would find out that you had nothing to do with it and you’re still the same guy I fell for years ago.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat, lips parting at her words. She pauses and just keeps staring at Harry and he is just about to break the silence when she speaks up again. 

“I’m glad that hope turned out to be right.”

They start moving at the same time. The chairs screech as they are pushed back and they meet by the side of the table in a kiss that holds everything they never said but felt. It’s the kiss they should have shared years ago, it’s the kiss they should have shared when anger brought them together this time and it’s the kiss that resets everything in between. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles against her lips.

“I’m sorry too,” she whines, hands gripping his shirt for dear life.

“Let’s just stop being sorry, okay?” he chuckles, making her laugh as well as their kisses slow down. He rests his forehead against hers, arms curled around her frame tightly. “I missed you.”

“It’s been only like… four days,” she jokes, though she feels the same.

“Not just now. I missed you after you disappeared from my life before.”

Biting her bottom lip she leans back just enough so that she can look into his eyes. 

“Let’s leave our old grudges in the past. I want to move forward.”

Harry smiles at her warmly.

“I would love that.”

NEW: 

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N spotted on an afternoon stroll in London -  Fans can’t wait for the singer’s new album he worked on with his rumored girlfriend

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: 

Meet Y/N Y/L/N, the talented music producer who did not only capture the industry but also Harry Styles’ heart as well

One Direction’s Night Changes hits the charts again after Y/N Y/L/N legally becomes owner of rights over the song a decade after its release

Investigation about Blake Finnegan continues - even more proof was revealed of all the shady business the former manager did

Female producers speak up about the struggles they face in the industry just days after Blake Finnegan was arrested

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[spideyhexx]

any late night thoughts tonight?

need an excuse to *********

I wasn’t planning on any but for you anon I have smth lil

thinking about academy coryo…you’re paired with him for a project and end up doing the work together one day after school in the library.

perhaps he always had a little bit of a crush on you, he’d always tell himself it’s nothing too major, just the occasional notice that you look pretty, or that your smile makes his heart beat quicker or that he likes the way your school issued shirt fits you just right. Nothing major.

So he’s fairly calm the entire time you’re studying and doing joint research in the library. It was efficient, splitting up tasks easily and reconvening every now and then. Coryo actually found himself liking working with you. And maybe you have to head home early and he says he’s gonna stay back and get some more done. In truth, he just doesn’t want to go home yet. But he wouldn’t tell you that. It would’ve been about 15 or so minutes since you left when he realizes you left your handkerchief behind.

He figures you would come back, would notice that you’re missing it. But you don’t come. And a little more time passes. There’s no way Coryo could bring himself to walking over to your family’s apartment, too many scenarios ran through his head. So he decides to take the handkerchief home with him and give it back to you in class.

Coryo isn’t even sure what ends up compelling him. Maybe it’s the smell of your perfume on the handkerchief or the sole fact that it’s yours, or it’s because he hasn’t jerked off in over two weeks and the image of you in your pretty blue blouse was seared into his mind after sitting with you for three hours.

He finds himself on his stomach in his cramped, uncomfortable bed, boxers not even off yet, your handkerchief at his side, as he pushes himself against the mattress. He’s so hard already, almost too much, he thinks. Barely even remembers ever feeling this needy for a release, it’s always making his hips stutter and press his hardened cock harder on the bed.

Eventually he peels off the boxers, his skin already warm. He didn’t mean to grab your handkerchief. He braced his hand on the bed and his hand just so happened to land on your scarf. The smooth material nice around his fingers, it felt like he was lured to bring the fabric to his cock, sliding himself against it, imagining it was you beneath him.

That he was grinding himself against you. His face is against his pillow and he imagines his head between your breasts, kissing where he can.

That particular vision makes him press harder into the scary, fixing the fabric around his cock so he can be fully buried in you. Something of you.

He switches from grinding to stroking his dick with the fabric, his pace quickening without any thought. It feels too good. Coryo can’t question the morality of this when he hasn’t felt this good from touching himself in so long.

As he turns onto his back he imagines you pushing him down, straddling his hips and sinking down on him. He wonders what you sound like when you’re getting fucked. He wonders if you get yourself off in your pretty room, (he’s guessing it’s pretty).

Coryo can see the way he’s already made a wet spot on your handkerchief and he curses himself for it but he can’t bring himself to stop when he’s so close. His mind quickly racks over where he’d love to cum if he was with you. In you? On you? Would you like that? He opts on thinking about your thighs, about nudging the tip of his cock to the soft skin of your inner thigh as he spills himself, marking you, so close to your cunt but not quite.

A few more firm strokes and he’s cumming hard into the handkerchief, muffling his moans with a hand over his mouth. When he’s done and spent, he looks at the stained handkerchief, his relaxed and satisfied state turning to something of panic.

He needs to clean that good. Or just never give it back to you.

[halaboyz]

oh?, choi san

classroom crush! ateez san x gn! reader (nonchalant vs oa lmao) FINALLY SOME FLUFF wc: 2.2k warnings: none that i know of a/n: i've done so much of this storyline i think this might be the last one of it

San remembers his first day as a returnee, striding down the hallway to his room, notes and pens tucked in his arm. Upon entering his room, was delightedly welcomed by one of the regular students- you.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" San asks cautiously as he points at the seat beside you, crouching to hear you better. When you turn your head to look at him, but instead, your jaw drops.

"Well aren't you fucking gorgeous," Is that even a whisper? San was astonished, blinking at you. It was needless to say that he was intimidated by that single line, feet discreetly stepping back and escaping the situation. "Sorry. Slipped. No one sits there," Your poker face confuses him more. You're a weird junior. You quickly focus back on your phone, as if you hadn't just said the most compliment San could ever receive.

"Ah, thanks... But I think I'll just find ano-," When he whips his head around to find another seat untaken, he panics. You don't look awkward at all, but San is. He doesn't want that. But there aren't any seats left, and he isn't close with anyone to strike a conversation just to switch seats with him. So he dejectedly takes a seat, scooting farther, maybe just a bit, away from you.

The day just wouldn't end like that, San just had to forget to bring an index card- the whole class did. And you just had to be prepared for it. Out of all his blockmates, it just had to be you. It makes everything hard for him when you hand all of your classmates a card one by one, when it all came down to him.

"You have one?" One was already hanging loose between your index and middle finger, handing it to him. It takes him a few more seconds before he shyly takes the card and thanking you softly, and he glances at you to see if you're really unbothered by the thing a while ago.

You really were.

At that point on, San had considered you a friend (he hopes you do too) that he can count on. Being a returnee wasn't easy, and you helped him adjust to the environment quite easily. You were someone who was blunt, straightforward. Unlike San, who overthought every situation he had been, and will most likely overthink the coming situations.

"Oh San. Hello. Are you at the room right now?" You quickly ask right when he answers your call. When he hums, "I forgot my extra shirt under my desk. Do you mind bringing it over here to the gym? Please and thank you."

Like you gave him a choice. He chuckles to himself, just agreeing and immediately getting into action. He retrieves your extra shirt for PE (which he, thank god, had taken already and passed the last year before he went for LOA) and jogs to the gym, where he finds exiting students already. When he asks a familiar face of where you are, they just point inside the gymnasium.

At last, the gym only had a number of students getting ready to leave, and he still doesn't see a strand of your hair. When he tries to reach his pockets for his phone, he sighs when he realizes he left it at your desk.

He cautiously walks to the changing room, where he tries to shout out loud, bravely, calling for your name.

"y/n... please come out, I have your shirt and there's no one else to ask a favor for," He thinks if you're even still there. But when he hears footsteps approaching he perks up.

Not until he sees you, though. He immediately turns red, and I mean literally red, and immediately- when he sees you only covered with a towel. He stands frozen in place, shirt in his hand reaching out to you.

"What, first time seeing a person half naked, pretty boy?" Your nonchalance was killing him inside. You thank him as you retrieve your shirt, asking him to wait for you since he was there already. As if you had just done the most normal thing friends do.

Or was San just not used to this friend-thing relationship that was normal for you?

"Hey, y/n. How are you?" San starts, the chair scraping the marbled floor.

"Good. You?" You reply simply, not even glancing at him.

"Good too," San nervously chuckles, but you don't buy it. With a simple whisper of 'spit', he folds. "Well... Not good, actually. I haven't been feeling well the past few days and I really want to stay in today but I had a quiz this morning. I really want to attend this class since I'm here already but my body's declining. Would you be so kind to share your notes for today?" San rambles, immediately feeling sorry for the inconvenience already.

"Okay." You answer, nodding at him. He waits a few more seconds to see if you'll add onto that, but nothing comes out. So he immediately thanks you, standing up and ready to leave when you grab his sleeve.

"Right, here. I've been meaning to give this." You throw him a small paper bag full of meds, "Get well soon. Miss you already," He doesn't know whether that was sarcastic or not. He doesn't care. What matters were the medicines in his hand, released from the pharmacy dated to three days ago, when he started feeling under the weather and has been doing everything to hide it.

He feels... weird. You're weird.

He remembers all that. That's how it has always been for the two of you. All along, he thought that he was the one who... he doesn't know. He doesn't even know, but all along he thought it was a him problem. Not a you problem.

So why were you here, in front of him, confessing your love for him?

Not the pretty-boy-adoration level, but a serious kind of level.

"I like you, Choi San. I think it's been for a while already." San couldn't figure you out until the end. So he figures that maybe, all this time, it's not a romantically-inclined interest he had for you, but a rather type of 'you're a weird-fun that's why you keep me on my toes' kinda thing.

And he doesn't want that. He doesn't want that for you because you deserve better. Just because you were a fresh air for him, doesn't mean that he'd only keep you to have his own part of fun.

"Uh... y/n..." He doesn't know what to say. He hopes to keep the friendship you've been building, but he also needs your keep of the decision for that. "Sorry, but..."

"Okay." You shrug, smiling at him. "It's fine. I get it. Don't worry, we can go back and act like nothing happened, right?" You didn't even let him finish. But he thinks he dodged a bullet there. Because of how he knows himself, he would've fucked it all up without meaning to if you let him finish. "Let's go back to the room?" You pat his arm, and you were back to being... unbothered. Like you didn't just get rejected.

Did San read too much romantic novels? Watch too much movies? To expect more reaction from you?

But apart from all that's raging his mind now, he follows you back to the room, and just like you- it feels like nothing happened. Maybe, it was better that way.

But when he asks your friend Yeonjun why he was going through your desk, and answers you asked to bring him your extra shirt and bottle of water to the gym, he's dumbfounded.

Not that he had some grudge for Yeonjun, but... hadn't you always asked him with that? I thought we're back to being whatever you were before the confession? Why was he now looking at Yeonjun like just committed a heinous crime?

But he lets Yeonjun off the hook (partially because Yeonjun was now sprinting out of the room to get to you and he didn't had the leisure to confront Yeonjun about it) and stares at the empty seat beside him, left with only traces of you.

Maybe, just maybe, Yeonjun crossed your mind first this time around, than San.

But well oh well, it happens again.

"Yeonjun, can you pass me the scale ruler, please? Oh and could you grab these plates unharmed and go with me to the office to drop these off before class ends," San was sure prior the confession, you had always asked him around. But now... what the hell?

"We can go now," Yeonjun stands up with no complain, getting all of the plates to go with you while you prepare. Why is Yeonjun acting like all of this is normal? Like... isn't he finding it weird that he's now the one getting asked around, not him?

San could now rip his hair all out for all he knows. He thought you wanted to go back to normal? Why is he noticing even the littlest changes now? Why is he so frustrated anyway?

His last resort was now two weeks after the confession, and everything has changed for him. Maybe just him, because he had started even noticing the smallest changes in your actions, or if it even changed- from the looks of it of other people's point of view, it didn't. But for him, a lot has changed.

"y/n, do you want to go get materials for the next project together later?" San encourages himself to initiate an offer, while the both of you were alone after a while, Yeonjun having something to cram on during break.

"Oh, San. Sorry, I already promised Yeonjun that I'll help him with his requirements later." You reply, biting your sandwich and glancing at him, then back to your book

"Tomorrow?" San was desperate. He wanted to make things right, but he doesn't even know if there were things to correct in the first place. Why does he feel so responsible and desperate when he's the one who rejected you?

"...You want to meet on a Sunday?" You slowly set your book down, gawking at him.

"That's a problem now?"

"Oh now your attitude's a problem." With his snarky remark, you immediately rebut it with yours. You were getting confused of how he has been acting, like... he's also confused. You were back to acting how you were before you confessed, only San wasn't.

"What about my attitude, huh?" San presses, scooting closer to you to annoy you more lividly. You scoff, amused at the newly found attitude your senior had.

"What the hell is your problem, San?" You scoff in disbelief, a smirk in your lips at the amusement.

"You know what, now that we're in the topic anyway, let me ask you that. What the hell is your problem, y/n?" He starts, eyebrows furrowing into confusion. Yours raise, because what the hell was he talking about? "You confess and okay, I rejected you, I was expecting that you will never talk to me again because that's how it usually goes, but then you say that we can go back to acting like it never happened."

"So? I did!" You almost try and fight him, if it weren't for his palm flying to your mouth to shut you up.

"You! Didn't!" San rebuts, "It's always Yeonjun here, Yeonjun there- did you not like me anymore just like that?! Have you moved on quickly? Do I deserve getting ignored because I was too ignorant of my own feelings?!" San was now mad at himself. He always was.

Because if you answered yes to all of his questions, the blame falls into himself.

He let you go that easily. Just like that. All because of his uncertainties, really?

"Of course I still like you, idiot! Do you think I get over feelings fast like that?!" You push his hand away, your panicked state was a reflection of his panicked state. You were supposed to be the cool one here, but hearing San panic made you panic.

"Then why the hell are you avoiding me?!"

"You're crazy, I'm not! I'm acting the way I am!" You exasperatingly fight back, because you know you're right. "You're overthinking things like how you always are, okay, I get it." You calm down, because if you weren't no one was going to. "I'm sorry, okay, I didn't notice this time around, I'm sorry I should've been more careful."

"Why are you apologizing now... I should be. You must be so confused of how I am acting right now..." San starts, shoulders drooping, lips turning to a pout. "I've only come to agreement to my feelings just now, y/n. I'm so sorry I came too late," San grabs your hand, caressing it.

You almost turn into a ball at how San was acting, feeling all giddy and happy at the same time.

"Really? San, I don't want you saying anything at the heat of the moment, you can take your time. This might only be because you were overly cautious of my actions after my confession which made you confused. You can take your time, San." You caress his hand with your other, smiling at him.

"No, I've just been trudging it out longer. I've been feeling this way ever since we met. But if I told you that earlier, it would've been weird, wouldn't it?" With a chuckle, you pull San for a hug, one that had been long overdue.

"Fuck Yeonjun, he can cram all by himself."

taglist: @sunlightwoo (answer the form on my pinned to be included!)

[biolumien]

and with it, a gentle place...

pt 3 to the samurai!hoshina fic. pt 1 and pt 2 are here.

notes: happy hoshina episode.

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader i dont think any warnings apply but if there are, please let me know ;-; word count: 1359

as it turned out, being the wife of a samurai was far more boring than you could have ever imagined. your life was largely consumed by general diplomacy and far more paperwork. your husband was gone frequently, often complaining about some kind of diplomacy with the narumi clan. 

it left you with hardly anything to do, in any case. 

or well, you could stare languidly out into the distance. that was something you did quite frequently, staring stormily out into beautiful gardens in tedium. you supposed you could technically throw a fit, throw something at a wall, or start acting irrationally–but that might besmirch your newlywed husband’s reputation for most diplomacy. 

so you settled for your naginata.

you spent most of your waking hours in the gardens of your new home, practicing diligently till your movements became a slow and elaborate kind of dance. as new lady of the house, it was your duty, your responsibility, or so you had been told, to defend the house in case it ever came under attack. and the weakened hoshina clan, with a dent in its beautiful, gilded reputation, may come with no shortage of enemies or people who wanted to take advantage of the rapidly forming power vacuum. 

you doubted any real assassination attempt on the new lord of the house would happen, but you trained anyway. you wondered why, as you slashed downwards in a circle, why you would bother with defending a man who was a total stranger to you. why go to the effort? why exist in this loop of tedium and boredom, with so little reward? for a husband who was so busy in his diplomacy efforts that he couldn’t spend time with you? but then again, why did it bother you that he never had time for you? you’d never wanted to be married to him in the first place!

you lower your naginata, letting the blade touch the floor. 

“so you’re the lady of the house!” 

a voice startles you out of your reverie.

your husband is standing next to a younger man, his eyes widened with excitement. his hair was a startling shade of almost white, dressed in shades of soft green. his obi is a dark purple. 

“you’re getting quite good at that,” soshiro says, stepping down to meet you. his kosode is in a dark purple again, layered with a black kataginu vest over top. he cut an intimidating figure, in any case, and he bows to you with a measured smile. “the naginata, i mean. i’m quite flattered you’re putting your all into this.” 

“of course,” you respond, your voice as sweet as honey, edged with venom. “it’s my duty, of course, as the lady of the house now. who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

“oh, him? pardon my manners.” soshiro laughs, but you can’t quite figure out what’s funny. “this is one of my retainers. ichikawa reno. reno, this is my wife. i told you about her already on the way here.”

“nice–nice to meet you,” reno says, bowing to you. “i wanted to meet you!”

you lower your naginata to your side. 

“why?” you ask. “i mean, pardon me.” you laugh, raising your sleeve to your mouth to hide the smile. “i just thought that most samurai of your stations would not bother.”

“well–even so, i’m not most samurai,” reno says, and you laugh at the absurdity of that statement, fully. his face flushes a little bit, and you reach out to pat him on the head.

“don’t worry about that, ichikawa. i am quite flattered you deigned to introduce yourself to me.” you smile, and reno nods. 

“of course.” 

“now, now, reno,” soshiro says, patting reno on the shoulder. “why don’t you give me and my wife some privacy for a second?”

“okay,” reno says, bowing to soshiro, and then to you before rushing off.

you watch reno leave, a soft huff leaving your lips.

“nice kid,” you say. 

“our families have been allied for generations,” soshiro says, watching reno run off as well. “he has the  weight of expectation upon his back, too, as the youngest.”

“mm. i see. so what is it you wanted to talk to me about, then?” you ask. “you’re so rarely in the house these days, i’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

“please, dear,” soshiro says. “i’m not trying to avoid you.”

you can’t even tell if he’s being honest.

“discussions with the narumi clan grow sour, mostly because i have no stomach for their son, who, coincidentally, also has no stomach for me! can you believe it?” soshiro laughs, raising a hand to push back his hair. 

“... i suppose you don’t want to hear my actual answer.”

“not quite,” soshiro amends. “you have a fairly nasty look on your face.”

“do i?” you smile. 

“hm.” soshiro watches you, staring down at your naginata. “do you want to spar?”

“spar?” you raise an eyebrow. “what would a samurai such as yourself want to do with sparring with his wife?”

“can’t this samurai be curious about what kinds of things his wife gets up to?” soshiro asks innocently, but draws his katana from his belt, unsheathing it and holding it in front of him in a prepared stance. in response, you hold your naginata at your side, ready as well.

“i stare out into your estate’s gardens,” you say. “and sometimes i do embroidery. and other times, i train alone.” and other times, i wish i had taken that dagger and killed you after all–better to have been known for that than to fade away like this. you choose not to say that. 

“i see.” soshiro’s gaze flits for a moment.

“why do you ask?” you say.

“just curious. like i said,” soshiro says. he takes a breath. “but whenever you’re ready.”

as soon as the words leave his mouth, you spin your naginata forward, sweeping the blade downwards. he catches it just barely with his katana, parrying the blow. you realize in a small thrill that you have a farther reach than him–that he has to actively fight to close the distance in front of you. he raises his katana, bearing down hard against the handle of your naginata as you flip it upwards.

“not bad,” he says.

you furrow your brow, pushing him off before you whirl your spear again, forcing his hand to the side.

“it’s been monotonous training,” you respond, whirling your spear for another hit. he deflects it, moving in to strike, but you push him back. 

“isn’t it better, then, that i spar with you? as a skilled opponent?” soshiro manages to close the distance yet again, his face and his blade dangerously close to yours.

“you’re a skilled samurai,” you retort, pushing him away again, but just barely. “i think that’s hardly fair, going up against me.”

“come of it,” soshiro responds, feinting for a second–you move to block, but he swings upwards instead, and you startle backward. “there are assassins aplenty that might try to kill you, and doubtlessly far more skilled than even me. i just want you–”

“you know, i’m getting awfully tired–”

as you step forward, spinning the naginata downwards–you watch as soshiro prepares to parry whatever side blow might be coming next–and then you throw the naginata ever so gently, closing the distance to grasp his wakizashi where it remains at his side. soshiro exhales. 

“--of what everyone says they want for me.” you pull his wakizashi from his belt, unsheathing it. 

it’s silent for a moment, save for your heaving breaths and the sound of birdsong. 

would he let you kill him?

you drop the blade soon after thinking the thought, leaning down to pick up your naginata.

“i think we’ve done enough,” you say. “i will return to my quarters.”

you wonder why your face feels so hot as you turn away. you wonder why you wish he would have lowered his blade and kissed you. you raise a hand to your lips, tracing your bottom lip with a finger. 

you hate the way your heart wants to move for him. 

you do. you do hate it. right?

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

🤍 SAFETY 🤍

Congrats, you made it. I created the safety fic. Wrote this in one day so be kind xx

“Okay, we’ll just go up, change, i’ll pop some advil and we’re good to go. Actually, do you want to order a snack from room service? When I saw the portion size at dinner, I already knew in my head that we might have to try the wings from the menu after all…” 

The elevator doors close behind her and Travis just grins at the woman standing right in front of him. He feels a little buzzed, but far from being drunk. It’s that stage of feeling the alcohol that is nothing but feeling full of energy, letting loose, just… being happy. Happy because the blonde woman in his arms is as bubbly as he loves her to be. She’s light as a feather, as comfortable as she could possibly be right now. Which is something he hasn’t always been able to witness ever since she came into his life and turned everything upside down. He soaks up these moments, witnesses them in their full glory. There’s nothing quite as peaceful as seeing her happy. And it’s slowly becoming the one thing he wants to see for the rest of his life.

“We’ll do whatever you’re up to.” he ensures her once more. His hand wandering to her left cheek, gently stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles for a moment, her eyes sparkling a little bit as she moves closer to him, signaling him that she needs a kiss right now. Despite Ray standing right next to them, Travis leans down to her height, kissing her lips softly. 

The massive elevator doors open with a ringing sound. Ray enters the upper level first, followed by Travis with Taylor holding his hand. It’s quiet in this part of the luxury Las Vegas hotel, nothing but the noise of Taylor’s high heels audible on the carpet. And Travis knows why. They’re the only ones staying on this floor, renting out a gorgeous suite with a view over the Las Vegas strip for the night. As much as he loves the crowds and the fun of Las Vegas - he’s learned to appreciate the silence, the privacy, the quietness he’s never been able to fully enjoy before. But now, there’s nothing as calming as being alone with her. Just him and her, and the whole world can wait. He’s found a form of peace and safety in the idea of being able to enjoy downtime not just alone, but with another human being. Before her, he could never sit with someone in silence. Before her… a time he can’t quite recall without the ache in his chest of wondering how he ever made it through the ups and downs of life without her by his side, holding his hand through all of it. 

“I will be right outside.” Ray politely lets the both of them know once they get to their room. He opens the suite with a magnetic key card and the door open for the couple. 

“Thanks, buddy.” Travis pats his shoulder, letting Taylor enter their hotel suite first. He closes the door behind them, watches Taylor make her way to the little night stand in the bedroom. In her gorgeous, dark green evening gown she sits down on her side of the bed, starts to rummage through her cosmetic bag. Travis just drops the jacket of his suit over the chair in front of him. Finally. He knows that him feeling warm and sweaty all night is nothing new. But wearing a suit tonight did not make it any more comfortable for him to be a real life yeti. Before attempting to change his outfit for the fun part of the night, he picks up the phone next to the tv remote, just presses a button. The blonde woman looks up at him confused, still trying to find the left over pack of advil that she threw into her little bag after getting back from Big Sur last weekend. 

“Hi, I’m calling from room 1002. I would like to order some room service.” 

The big man with the phone on his ear turns to her, and she smiles thankfully at him. Of course he would make sure she’s got everything she could possibly need in this moment. 

“Yeah, I would like to get some wings. How many are on one plate? 5?” 

“Get two.” she whispers from across the room. 

“Alright, then two plates please. Also can we get another bottle of water and..”

“Diet coke, babe.” she whispers again. 

“And two diet cokes.” he adds. “with ice.” 

“Also, can we add some sauces to that? Do you… yes, great. We’ll go with that then. And a portion of mayonnaise, please.” he says, and she giggles at him, sending him a little butterfly kiss from across the room. She knows how much he hates mayonnaise, but she also knows that he is well aware of how much she loves it. One of the millions of kind gestures she was forced to get used to in the past months of being with this man. 

“Thank you!” he says, then hangs up the phone again. 

“You are just the best.” she says, dramatically, making him laugh. She’s gotten up from her spot on the bed by now, reaching for the half empty bottle of water standing next to him. Her hand lands on his shoulder and he can’t help but put his over hers for a moment.

“Of course I am.” he jokes, confusedly watches her pour herself some water into a glass. She then swallows two of the pills in her hand, emptying the glass of water in just a few seconds. He’s stood up by now, standing right in front of her with his white shirt still tucked into his trousers. His big hands on her shoulders, his eyes a little more longing than they were before. 

“You good?” he asks, and she places the glass next to her again, a little out of breath from drinking the whole thing at once. 

“Yeah, just.. headache. Will be better soon.” 

“How’s your sunburn?” 

“I’ll be fine, Trav.” she says, almost in a giggle because he’s been concerned all night. He gently moves the spaghetti straps of her dress over her shoulders. The fabric has clearly left a mark on the already redenned shoulders of hers. He lets out a compassionate sigh, then moves down to press a few butterfly kisses on her skin. 

She giggles slightly. Partly because his beard tickles her, and partly because this is the third time tonight that he can’t help but love up on her sunburn. 

“Your poor shoulders.” he mumbles in between the kisses. 

“They’ll get through it.” she replies amusedly, as he lifts his head again, just looks apologetically into her face. She can read instantly what is going through his head. He feels responsible for her not feeling at her best tonight, because she stood right in the hot Arizona sun all day for him - watching him golf with Patrick, supporting him as recklessly as she always does. 

“How ‘bout we just skip the party, undress and throw our own little party?” he mumbles, loves feeling her hands on his beard. She gently strokes his skin, a grin on her lips while gently shaking her head. 

“My love, we’re here for work. For a good cause. I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.” 

He nods, admires her once more for her strength, her commitment in supporting him and the things that matter to him. A feeling he hasn’t had with anybody else before. He doesn’t speak, enjoys feeling her hands in his neck. He leans closer to her, his nose touching hers. 

“I love you so much, baby.” he just whispers, and she giggles, lifting her face to kiss the tip of his nose once. 

“I love you, Trav.” 

“Kiss?” he requests, and she leans in to press her lips against his. He sighs slightly, tasting the cherry flavour of her lipstick once more. 

“Alright, let’s get ready.” 

“What are you gonna wear?” she asks him, starts to go through her suitcase at the end of the room. She slowly kneels down, starts to rummage through the big case. He can’t help but laugh at her. In her ridiculously expensive dress, she just sits on the floor, going through the piles of clothes she was too lazy to move away this morning. All whilst his clothes are neatly folded and hung up in the built-in hotel closet. This clearly is one of their major differences. He likes having control over his possessions. Likes taking care of his things, having a system. Clarity. Neatness. And just like a little beautiful hurricane of joy, Taylor likes to let her things pile up, doesn’t really care about the materialistic things she owns. So chairs become hangers for pants and jackets. TV screens become a storage unit for long gucci gowns. All her shoes are just kicked aside right next to where she sits on the floor. She truly likes to live in a creative chaos. A beautiful, creative chaos.

“Just something comfortable. That’s for sure.” 

“Mhm, this one?” she asks, holds up a little off-shoulder black dress. “or this one?”

“The black one.” he says, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to change. “Gives your sunburned shoulders some room to breathe.” 

~

A big hand in her back, the moving lights on his face, the loud bass of music vibing so loudly, he can feel it in his bones. He can immediately tell that all eyes are on him and the woman in his arm. A normal reaction to being basically anywhere with her. He looks at Ray behind him, giving him a hand to signal clearly that he’s got her. He will not go anywhere without her consent. The next thing he notices is Patrick waving at him from across the room, signaling his friend to join him where they’re hanging out. 

Together with Taylor, he tries to make his way through the crowd, phone cameras in the darkness right in her face the moment she is noticed. He looks down at her, his hand still more than protectively in her back. She’s forcing a smile, suppressing a yawn. He doesn’t care what she’s telling him. He knows she’s not feeling at her best tonight. 

“Say a word and we’ll leave.” he says in her ear, hoping she could understand him through the noise. She looks up at him, a gentle smile on her lips and the little twinkle in her eyes that he loves so much. Her small hand moves to his chest, and she nods, her lips just forming a low “okay”. 

A few moments later they have finally reached Britanny and Patrick, who were just chatting with a few other people through the noise. Taylor immediately goes to hug Britanny and Amber and Travis turns around to look for Ray. Travis then reaches for Taylor’s hands once more, makes her turn around to signal her that he will leave for a moment to get a drink. She just nods, doesn’t really react much and just keeps on chatting to the women in front of her. Travis once more turns around, signaling Ray now that he’s leaving for a moment. The security guard immediately steps up closer to Taylor, keeping his eyes on her surroundings. Only a few moments later, the big football player steps closer to his group of friends again, nodding at Ray who immediately steps aside and loosens up again. Travis doesn’t interrupt Taylor who is laughing with Britanny about something. He just hands her a drink, and she smiles at him thankfully for a moment. Vodka Cranberry. Her favorite. 

Travis now turns to Patrick and Ross, as well as David Brooker who stands right next to them. He’s honored when the man approaches him, gushing to him about how impressed he’s been with his performance this past season. How excited he is for what’s ahead for Travis. He can’t believe David Brooker even knows who he is. Just one of these moments, in which he can’t believe that this is his life. 

~

Time flies, drinks flow, and people approach him for some small talk. Every now and then, he makes sure to go and check up on Taylor, who has been her chatty self all evening. It’s always been one of his dreams. Having a partner support him at these events. Someone who’s as personable as he is. Someone who can have a good chat with anyone he works with. And he loves her for it. He loves to feel this unimaginable support for the first time in his life. 

With free hands, he steps up behind her. The faces of the women in front of Taylor already wandering to the tall man appearing behind her. His big hands make their way between her arms landing right on her stomach. She immediately melts into his arms, a big smile on her face as she feels his gentle kiss on her cheek. 

“You good, baby girl?” he mumbles right into her ear, making sure no one else hears his words, no one else except her. She just looks up at him, both her hands firmly on his, and she nods. 

“Yeah, you?” she asks to check on him, turns around in his arms, and seems glad to see him nod with a smile on his face. He loves to feel her hands move into the familiar spot on his cheek, a sign that she wants to be close to him. He leans down, kissing her. This time, he can feel her giggle into the kiss, and even through the loud music in the background he can feel her sigh. She pulls back, a giggle on her lips, and fire in her eyes. 

“Not here.” he just mumbles and she starts laughing in shock, unable to process that he thinks this kiss implied that she would ever do something as risky as hooking up with him in a public place. 

“I did not insinuate that, oh my god.” she defends herself immediately, laughing as he presses her closer to him. He kisses her hair a few times, moving closer to mumble into her ear while hugging her closely. 

“As I said, I’m happy to leave anytime. Like, literally anytime.” 

She laughs once more, slowly pulls back from him, pretends to hit him once. But it just makes him laugh more. She just shakes her head, but her eyes are saying something very different. She can’t wait to get closer to him, either. 

“Tay, do you want another drink?” Britanny suddenly interrupts the two, Taylor nods, says something to the smaller blonde woman, which is incomprehendable to him. She then turns around again, facing Travis. He laughs at her, a bit surprised about the fact that she decided to let loose tonight after all. But he’s glad. He’s so glad she’s enjoying herself in his circles. 

~

His phone screen lights up through the dark, and for a moment he’s surprised. 3.12am. He can’t believe how late it already is. And he can feel the buzz slowly turning into something more. He finishes his almost empty glass, making a mental note to himself to not drink anymore tonight. He’s not drunk, but he knows that he will be hung over if he keeps on drinking now. 

Travis places the empty glass next to Patrick’s, checks the text on his phone that he just received a moment ago, then locks his phone again before letting it slide into his pocket. He looks over to where Miranda and Britanny are standing. For a moment, he searches the tall blonde sticking out next to them. But she’s nowhere in sight. Travis moves his head, looking to the other side of the packed night club. She’s not standing next to Amber either. Her security is also nowhere in sight. He feels a wave of worry rise in his chest, slowly stands up. He shouldn’t have that last drink. Trav slowly makes his way over to Britanny. She looks at him, buzzed as well, struggling to understand him as he speaks into her ear. She finally understands then after a few moments, nodding, letting him know that Taylor had made her way to the ladies a few minutes ago. For a moment, he feels the anxiety in his chest dissolve again. He didn’t know this side about himself. He didn’t know this overprotective side, which Taylor clearly has brought out in him. With firm steps, he makes his way through the crowd, people high-fiving him, patting his shoulders. But he’s got a destination this time, and won’t get distracted by the small talk surrounding him. He finally can see the lid up restroom sign next to the bar. That’s when he spots Ray, both eyes on the crowds in front of the door leading to the ladies bathrooms. He’s thankful for him. Thankful to know that she’s always got someone looking out for her.

“Tay’s in the bathroom?” he asks, and Ray nods. Trav just waits next to the security guard, taking out his phone once more. 3.17am. She must be as tired as him, probably ready to head off. After a few seconds of waiting, he then witnesses a swarm of women exit the bathroom. He just stands there, smiling apologetically. After all, he knows how creepy it must come across to stand right in front of the women’s bathrooms just staring. A few moments later, a certain blonde finally makes her way outside. Her hair wavy, her short black dress showcasing her incredible legs, an empty glass in her hand, walking a bit more unsteady than she usually does. He has to let out a giggling breath, his smile turning even bigger when she sees him. 

“Hi baby.” she says loudly, her hands immediately reaching for him. He just laughs at her, placing both his hands on her hips. 

“Are you a little tipsy?” he laughs, gives her a happy kiss and Taylor laughs as well, nodding heavily. He just embraces her in a gentle hug, feels the cameras of people’s phone facing them, yet he doesn’t even care. Presses a few kisses on her cheek before letting go.

“I am and.. I don’t even know why. I just had two drinks, but I can really feel it. How did you notice?” 

He pulls back and nods, taking the empty glass from her. 

“You went to the bathroom with an empty glass, babe. And took it back out with you. That’s how I can tell.” 

She suddenly looks at the glass Travis just took from her, then looks back at him in disbelief and starts to laugh again. This time, she’s covering her mouth in embarrassment. 

“Oh my god, I.. I officially am losing it.” 

“You’re so funny.” he mumbles after leaving the glass on the counter of the bar. “Want to take off?” 

She just shakes her head immediately.

“Noooo, not yet.” she reacts a bit too intense for his taste.

“There’s this guy, who’s hilarous.” she mouths in his ear, and for a moment he feels his churn in confusion. “He claims to be one of your best friends. And I was like..” she pulls back, folding her arms together in a dramatic manner, “okay, sure, babe. You’re Trav’s best friend but you haven’t hung out in a year? Mhm, sure thing.” 

He smiles at her, can’t recall a time he’s witnessed her this loose and funny.

“Also, I was like… sorry, but I’m Trav’s best friend, okay? I am.” she mumbles, almost aggressively, and it makes his heart beat faster for a moment. With his hands on her hips, he pulls her closer. She suddenly looks up at him a bit worried. “I am your best friend, right?” 

He smiles again, nods slowly. 

“You are. You’re my best friend.” he mumbles into her ear in the hug, feeling her head rest on his shoulder. She really is very much drunk tonight, and he’s living for this hilarious version of his girlfriend. 

“You’re my best friend, too, Trav.” she says then, again, a tad too loud than she usually would, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Sure you don’t want to leave?” 

She slowly pulls back, nods with a smile. 

“Just thirty more minutes, okay?” she says, and he nods. He’s glad she got to let loose tonight, even if that’s not something he thought would happen today. He can see very well that she’s drunk, but he wants her to have this moment. Especially her. The person who is always so well put together. He gets to let go like this more often than she does. And he’s happy he gets to be here in the rare occasion that she does let go.

“Alright, let me get you a regular coke, Tay. You need it.” he says with a smile on his face, but a certain seriousness in his tone that she appreciates. 

“Yeah, thank you, baby.”  

~

“And I said to my wife, Travis Kelce. This guy. This guy will make it.” 

Trav just listens to the man in his fifties in front of him gush about him to his colleagues. He blushes a little, pretends to slide a few dollars to the man for his compliments, which makes Patrick, Ross and Harry laugh even more. He turns around for a second, just when he notices Brit approaching Patrick, clearly signaling him that she’s done for the night and ready to hit the hay. He turns around for a moment, finds Taylor still standing next to Amber and Chris. But there’s also another man he hadn’t noticed before. The guy is keeping his distance, clearly, but keeps on talking into Taylor’s ear through the noise. He doesn’t mind to see her chatting to people, men included. But what he doesn’t like is the fact that she seems to constantly loose her own balance in her heels, waddles from the left to the right. He also doesn’t appreciate the man’s hand touching Taylor’s naked arm. A boundary she would never let a stranger man cross. But she’s not moving. Something doesn’t feel right to him. 

Travis slowly leaves the group of people he was just talking to, and makes his way up to his girlfriend. He places his hand on her back but she doesn’t react. The man next to her has stopped talking to her, just nods at Travis with a weird smile. Travis however, looks at Taylor confusedly now, his hand on her back caressing her gently. Nothing. She still hasn’t clocked that he’s got his hand on her bare back. He starts to worry slightly. All she does is hold her empty glass in both her hands, looking into a void. 

“Baby?” 

She suddenly notices him.

“Oh hey.” 

Taylor faces him, and he immediately knows she’s not okay. Her eyes are glassy, her pupils are dilated. She’s very much pale, trying to balance herself on her heels.

“You okay?” he whispers into her ear, ready to take her to her hotel room. It’s been a fun night but her current state is something he hadn’t experienced before since knowing her. The fun is over for him. And it clearly is for her.

“What?” she looks up at him again, struggling to understand any of his words right now. 

“You feeling okay?” he asks again, and she seems to slowly understand through the noise. 

“Yeah, just talking to Amber and Chris.” she responds to him, and he doesn’t believe her for a second. Amber is fully focused on chatting to Miranda who stands right next to her. No Chris is even in sight. Travis looks back at his girlfriend, very well aware that she’s trying to act normal, which worries him even more. He can see she’s not feeling well, and he wishes she would admit it to him. 

“You sure?” 

She nods, both hands still clinging onto the empty glass. 

“Want to leave?” 

She shakes her head again. Something is up. She seems different than the tipsy, drunk Taylor he kissed by the bathroom twenty minutes ago. She’s not just drunk. There’s a kind of apathy filling her eyes that wrenches his gut. He hates seeing her this unstable, unsure. His hand on her back drawing gentle circles. He leans his head down to her again, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. Her skin is still hot from the sunburn she got today. But her confused look after he kissed her makes him feel more unsettled than before.

“I really think we should head out, sweetie.” he tries again, but she doesn’t react. Still stares into nothing, pretending to look at the people in front of her who are clearly drawn to their own conversations. 

“Can you.. can you get me some water?” she says then. Travis leans closer to hear her properly, immediately nods as soon as he understands what she needs. He presses a kiss onto her cheek, clearly worried, reaching for the empty glass in her hands. He has no idea what she’s been drinking, but he surely knows that this is not the same glass from before, when she was nibbling on the full sugar coke he got her. But Taylor won’t let go of the empty glass. It’s only just then that he realizes how tightly she’s clenching it. A bit confused but more worried than before, Travises hand lands on her back for the fifth time tonight. 

“Babe, if you give me the empty glass, I can..” 

“Oh, sorry.” she mumbles, lets go of the glass suddenly. Travis looks around for a bit, trying to scan the room for Brittany. He can’t seem to find her anywhere though. 

“Hey, how about you sit down for a moment while I get you some water?” 

She suddenly doesn’t fight him anymore, almost stumbles over her own feet while walking with him. She then sits down on one of the lounges by the side. He quickly waves towards Ray, signals him to come closer. The security guard immediately looks concerned, but Travis just whispers in his ear to stay here with her while he’s getting her a glass of water. The man nods, remains close to Taylor while being fully focused on her surroundings again. While making his way to the bar, Travis feels worry rise in him. Like a tidal wave, slowly, but with a force he hadn’t experienced before. He realizes in this moment that this is the first time he really cares about someone. More than himself. He wouldn’t mind if anything happened to him if it would mean that the clumsy, tall blonde sitting on this lounge is okay and happy. 

While walking to the bar, he keeps on looking back to where she sits to make sure she’s okay. This is not the first time he’s witnessed her being drunk. But it is the first time he’s witnessed her this out of it. Just sits there like an empty shell, staring into nothing, not talking to anyone, not being chatty or giggly anymore. 

As he makes his way back to her, just a few moments later, is when his intrusive thoughts of worry finally win. This time, she’s not sitting there as apathetic and motionless as she was before. This time, she’s sitting there, looking from left to right like a terrified deer on a dark road. It’s not hard to see how anxious she is. Not hard notice her leg moving uncontrollably. She’s looking around with a lost look on her face. He can’t believe it, but she looks.. scared? Scared of her surroundings, looking down at her hands every few seconds to make sure they’re still there. Her little prada handbag fell to the floor and she didn’t even notice. As soon as Travis sits down next to her again, right after having picked up her bag is when Taylor reaches for his arm, and he notices just now how heavy she’s breathing. 

“Something is wrong.” she mumbles through the loud music of the night club.

“Tay…”

“I don’t feel good. I.. don’t feel good at all. I can’t see properly, and my hands...” she says with panic in her voice , leaning forward to cradle her head in her hands. Almost as if her hands could help her see clearly again. But it’s not working. She panics even more when she realizes that it’s not working, looks back down at her hands again.

“I can’t see and I can’t feel my hands and… I feel really sick.” she whimpers then, is on the verge of crying. 

“I’m really scared, baby. I…” Her hands keep reaching for his, and he manages to place his arm protectively around her. The water glass in his other hand. He takes a deep breath. They need to get out of here. Right now. 

“Have some water, here.” 

He can see her trying to reach for the glass in his hand, but she misses it. Everything she sees, she sees double. Trav looks at her in deep worry. It seems like she lost full control over her hands and once she notices herself, he can see the purest form of panic in her drowsy eyes. She’s close to tears, trying to reach for the glass with shaking hands.

“I...” she starts to take quick and short breaths. For a moment, Travis reaches for her sweaty and cold hand. By no means is he calm in this moment, but he wants to prevent her from collapsing or hyperventilating. 

“Hey, everything’s alright. I got you. You’re safe.” 

He carefully helps her press the glass onto her mouth. With shaking hands, she gulps down the water glass, both hands holding desperately onto his with closed eyes. When she’s done, she opens her eyes again, almost disappointed that the weird feeling hasn’t passed. She still sees everything double, feels like fainting any second. Trav has his arm around her, and she’s holding his hand with both of her hands. But he feels so far away. She’s scared. Scared to loose control. Scared of what is happening to her. Scared.

Travis places the now empty water glass next to him, can see in Ray’s face that the securty guard is starting to get worried, too. There’s cameras pointing at her, and the last thing he wants is for people to notice her struggling. She’s more vulnerable in this moment than she’s ever been in public, he knows. And he will do anything in his power to not cause a scene in here with her. 

“She’s.. she’s not feeling well.” he explains to the security guard. “We’ll leave now but I don’t want people to… can you.. can you just walk first and we..?” 

Travis clearly struggles to find the right words to make sense in this moment but the man in front of him nods, and immediately understands. 

Trav gets up, helps Taylor stand up as well. He pulls her into a hug as her knees are about to give in. 

“I want to go home, please. I want to..”

“I’ll get you home. We’re going home now. Don’t worry, okay. I got you. Just take a moment to breathe, and then we will walk right to our hotel room.” he whispers, knowing that his instructions right now just fall on deaf ears. She quietly cries into his shoulder, her breathing patterns being as fast as before. All she does is whimmer into his ear, begging him for help. He feels sick. Not sure whether she needs an ambulance, an IV or just a whole lot of rest. The only thing that clocks right in this moment for him is the fact that she was drugged. That someone, probably the strange guy from before, has slipped something into her drink to knock her out and make her as weak as she is now. It’s not his first time in Las Vegas, and it’s not the first time he’s witnessed a young woman collapse in some night club because a disgusting guy had something else in mind. He’s well aware about so-called ‘rape drugs’ but never in a million years did he think that it would shatter him this deeply to witness someone as pure and beautiful and strong as Taylor fall victim to this crime. 

It might not be the first time he’s witnessing someone being drugged, but in this moment, while hearing her cries in his ear, is when he realizes that it is his first time witnessing someone he loves soo deeply being abused right in front of his eyes. Someone he swore he would protect at all costs. Someone who came here, to this place, just for him, relying on him to be safe. 

She thought she was safe here with him. 

“Trav..” she cries into his ear again, her arm moving up and down his, almost as if she’s looking for him. But he’s right here. Right here holding her in his arms.

“I’m here, I’m always here. Just close your eyes, and hold on, okay? You can do it.” He whispers into her ear over and over again. Cameras are pointing at them, even more so when the DJ decides to play one of Taylor’s songs as part of his set. The people in this club start singing it to her, yet Taylor is nowhere near being able to react. He doesn’t want her to have to witness this moment in her current state, just lovingly presses her face into his neck, turning his head to kiss her. His left hand is holding her upright while making his way through the crowd with her. His right hand is gently on her head, pressing it against his chest and shielding her from the crowds. It takes two minutes to get to the exit of the club. Two horrifying minutes until they have finally left the busy club and step into the big lobby connecting the club to their hotel. A few drunk people make their way over to them, phones directed at the both of them, asking Taylor for a picture. Travis is glad to find Ray pushing people out of the way whilst he’s busy just getting her to the elevator at the end of the room. He feels her exhausted moans with every step she has to take. Oh, what he would give to be able to carry her in this moment. What he would give to not have any people standing in this lobby, filming their every step. 

With his hand still pressing her head against his chest is when they finally make it to the elevator. Ray presses the button and they step inside. It takes another two seconds and the doors close. Finally. In this moment, he can finally breathe. With one swift motion, he’s lifted Taylor up, now carries her bridal style while standing in the elevator. Ray looks at Travis concerned, who’s just fully focused on Taylor. She mumbles a few anxious, crying, incomprehensible things into his chest. But all he does is kiss her, assure her that he’s here, that she’s not alone, that he’s taking care of her now.

“Does she need a doctor?” Ray says, doesn’t want to overstep Travis but is well aware that it’s his duty to make sure she’s safe. He’s getting paid to keep this woman safe and right now, she’s passed out in her boyfriend’s arms.

Travis looks into Ray’s eyes, and he shamefully nods. He feels so embarrassed to look into the security guard’s face. To know that this man also relied on Travis being there, while he kept his distance. 

“I think someone put something in her drink when I.. when I wasn’t there. I just don’t want to.. to find any tweets about this tomorrow. I’ll call Tree first and get someone to look at her.” 

Ray nods, asking Travis if he needs help. He shakes his head, is way too focused on Taylor in his arms. Her eyes are fully closed now, but she’s not sleeping. Suffering cries are still escaping her mouth every few seconds. Her hand is clawing into his shirt. Almost as if she’s desperate to hold onto him. Travis leans down again, kissing her face once more. He’s sweating, full of panic. All he can do is assure her that he’s here. That she’s safe. That she’s finally safe. For the first time really tonight.

A few moments later the elevator doors opens again and Travis manages to carry Taylor into the suite. Ray opens the door to their bedroom and helps Travis step inside with Taylor on his arm. He slowly walks up to her side of the bed, almost stumbling over one of her shoes she just dropped next to her bed before when getting ready for this night out. Breathing heavily, he slowly lays her down on top of the bed sheets. He just swallows seeing her so weak. Just the thought of this guy from before having exactly this view in mind makes him feel sick. Travis sits down on the bed right next to her, starts to unbutton the clasps of her heels. 

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m.. I’m just gonna undress her so that she’s more comfortable and then call Tree. Can you… step outside please?” he says. Travis looks into Ray’s eyes and clearly sees him hesitate for a moment. He understands that his job is to make sure Taylor is safe. But in this moment, the only thing Travis cares about is that Taylor feels safe. And he will never in a million years strip her naked in her most vulnerable state, in front of a man who is working for her. 

“Buddy, I’m taking care of her. Please give us some privacy.” he says, adding a slightly annoyed “Please.”

The brown-haired man nods slowly, then closes the hotel door behind him. As soon as the door falls into the lock, Travis stops for a moment, just to breathe. He keeps on fiddling to unbutton the clasp of her high heels, realizing quickly that it’s difficult to open these with his big ass fingers. After a moment he then finally succeeds, carefully sliding the shoes from her feet. He looks back into her face, glad to have finally found her in a somewhat comfortable position. She doesn’t move, has both her eyes closed and doesn’t seem to notice him undressing her. The make up on her face is smudged from crying. Trav feels tears building up in his own eyes, just seeing her like this. He hates to do this to her, but has to reach for both of her shoulders to help her sit up for a moment. She opens her eyes, still seems to be asleep as he pulls her forward to let her fall into a hug with him. She turns her head, nuzzling into his neck as he starts to unzip the back of her black dress. She will thank him tomorrow for not making her sleep in this tight party dress.

“Almost done, baby. You’ll be so much more comfortable when this is off.” he mumbles. She lets out a cooing sound, and Travis carefully lets her fall back onto the pillow. She mumbles something incomprehensible again as he starts to pull down her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and within a few seconds she’s lying there, on top of her bedsheet, fully exposed, in nothing but her thong. She doesn’t move as he just carefully hangs her dress over the chair behind him. The chair full of her stuff, that he so amusedly made fun about earlier today. Earlier, when she was just her bubbly, happy self. Not another drugged girl getting undressed while being unconscious. 

Travis feels tears building up in his eyes, again, and for a moment he realizes how sweaty he really is. Not because he just carried her to the room, but because the panic and fear on the inside are getting the very best of him right now. 

He reaches for his big red KC shirt that she always sleeps in, manages to pull the shirt over her head, and walk her dead arms into each sleeve, one by one. She just lets out a loud sigh. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

A few seconds later, after having properly dressed her, he fiddles the blanket under her and manages to tuck her in. Finally. And then, for a moment, it’s finally silent. He just sits there, watching her sleep. His hand moves to her head, stroking gently over her head as he feels a tear run down his cheek. All he wanted was for her to have a fun weekend with him in Vegas. All she did was fly out for him, and ended up getting violated like this, under his own eyes. Trav moves closer to her and kisses her hot forehead a few times.

“You’re safe now. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” he whispers, not sure if his words are meant to calm the blonde sleeping woman or himself. He double checks once more if her feet are properly tucked into the blanket, knowing very well that she gets cold feet quickly. Travis then stands up, reaching for the phone in his pocket and leaves the bedroom to call Tree. 

~ 

With shaking hands, Travis just sits there, leaning against the bed rest, listening to the man in front of him talk while not letting go of Taylor’s head on the pillow. He tries to take mental notes, feels the imminent pressure to make sure to remember everything exactly as the doctor is saying it. It’s okay for her to move in her sleep with the IV still attached. When she wakes up, he can help her remove the tube from her arm. If she wakes up before the IV liquid is fully absorbed, he needs to give her another aspirin tablet. If she starts to feel sick, it’s important to make sure she’s in a stable position. She should regain consciousness in a bit, but it’s advised for her to get another IV drip tomorrow morning. She will be okay. And if she’s not, he’s recommended to call 911 immediately. 

Travis just nods, taking mental notes. Ray is standing there at the other side of the room, still talking to Tree on the phone. Travis just slowly lets go of Taylor, gets up to thank the doctor for everything. He’s still shaking, still trying to make sense of what happened tonight. He’s just glad that a medical professional has looked at her. That her body is now being flushed with lots of nutrients and fluids to help get rid of whatever drug she was given. Ray hangs up the phone, as Travis signals him to come closer. It’s still pitch dark outside, the lights of the Las Vegas strip not looking half as magical as they did this morning. This morning when Taylor was her normal self, standing by these floor to ceiling windows. Her happy self being in awe, excited for a day at the golf field. And him holding her in his arms, appreciating each giggle escaping her lips with a gentle kiss on her cheek. The same morning, in which a certain person was probably already plotting to secretly mix something into her system. Knowing that she would be going out tonight. Knowing that he would give her space to chat with her friends, network, talk to strangers. 

Space to get drugged and taken advantage of. 

“I need to run downstairs and grab some sugary drinks for when she wakes up. Can you please stay here with her for a few minutes in case she wakes up?” Travis asks the security guard and Ray nods, a little confused about Travises sudden change of mind. A few minutes ago he wouldn’t dare to leave Taylor out of sight, but now he seems eager to run downstairs? 

Travis thanks him, leaves everything he owns, including his phone, in this room with her. With determined steps, he leaves the hotel room before the doctor even can, approaching the elevator doors as quickly as humanly possible. 

Driven by adrenaline and aggression, more than he’s ever felt before, Travis enters the night club again, just seconds later. He can immediately spot Ross and Harry, who are both approaching him with worried looks on their faces. 

“Bro, are you okay? Brit said that she saw you and…” 

But Travis doesn’t hear any of it. All he can see is the man from before still standing there, talking to a group of women. His brain is fully shut, and his instincts are taking over. As soon as he approaches the group, the man’s eyes look up to Travis. Within a split second, Travis’ fist lands in the man’s face. A solid punch. There’s blood running down his nose and people looking at him in shock. The women next to them are jolting to the side. The guy is holding his nose with a look on his face that shows Travis clearly that he knew exactly what this was for. 

“You little piece of shit, don’t you ever try that again.”

Both Harry and Ross have witnessed the situation, just gently holding Travis back as a security guard from the night club gets closer to them.

“Man, calm down. I bought her a drink. Nothing more.”

“He fucking drugged Tay.” Travis says to his friends in a rage, who both are trying to calm him. “This asshole is out here drugging women and you guys don’t do anything?!” he says loudly to the security guards who are signaling Travis to leave the club now before things will get ugly. He feels a new form of anger rise in his chest as he is asked to leave, but Ross and Harry manage to not just hold him back, but convince him to leave the club and make his way out to get some fresh air. 

~ 

Travis is used to feeling exhausted. He’s used to feeling drained, tired and knowing he’s spent all the energy in the world available to him. As an athlete, he’s learned to deal with these moments of lacking energy, learned to push through and know when and how to reload his energy storages. But in this moment, while sitting down next to Taylor on this hotel bed, finally alone with her, he can safely say that he’s never. Never in a million years felt a level of exhaustion as severe as this. 

For a third time tonight, he wipes away the sweat standing on his forehead. His gaze falls onto the Las Vegas Strip in front of him. The sun is slowly rising, more and more cars are driving down the streets. The next day is starting, almost as if nothing had happened. It’s all just an endless cycle. The days come, the nights end. No one really cares for you out there. No one really cares about things that happen to you while the world moves slowly on. 

He looks down to Taylor again. His world doesn’t. Her left arm is still on top of the bed sheets, connected to the liquid IV standing next to her bedside. There’s still mascara stuck on her cheek and her long, blonde, wavy hair is all over the place. There’s lipstick stains on her chin, but she looks peaceful. She finally does. Travis swallows, gets up and closes the curtains. Sleep. Sleep is what both of them need after this night. He pulls his shirt over his head, takes off his pants and just drops them on the floor. He likes to be in control of things, like to keep his things neat. But none of the things he possesses matter when it comes to her. Just the thought of losing her, of not being able to protect her, not being her safe haven tonight has made everything else feel so irrelevant to him. From the very first moment he fell for this woman, was when he promised himself and her to always keep her safe. He let her down tonight. He let her security team down too, but mostly, her. 

There’s a deep and heavy pressure on his chest. He’s guilty. He’s failed her.

Travis slips under the blanket too, finally placing his head on his pillow. It’s dark in the room now, but not as dark as he’d like it to be. The daylight is still fighting its way through the curtains. He places his arm protectively over her body, checking that the IV is still properly attached to her arm. He gets closer to her, kissing her cheek again. He sighs, allows himself to close his eyes for a moment then. 

“What happened?”

His eyes shut open in shock and to his surprise, he finds her looking at him. Her eyes are tiny and red, but her face is fully turned to him. He feels a wave of relief washing over him, followed by the need to just cry like a baby. He knew she would be okay, but being able to look into her eyes is giving him endless comfort right now. 

“Someone put something in your drink. How are you feeling?” he whispers. He can witness her eyelids still fighting to stay open. His big hand already on her cheek. 

“Horrible.” she mumbles. He quickly gets up again and walks over to her side of the bed. In nothing but his boxers, Travis sits down next to her. 

“Can you sit up for a moment? You should take this aspirin before going back to sleep. You’ll thank me tomorrow morning.” 

She nods, tries to find her strength to sit up, but struggles clearly. Travis helps her immediately, pulls her upright with both of his hands on her arms. 

“There you go.” he mumbles, already reaching for the water glass next to her. She looks disoriented, confused. Her eyes wandering to the liquid IV in her arm. 

“What..”

“We had a doctor come look at you. This will help you feel better soon, baby.”

She doesn’t react, just nods and opens her mouth for him to place the aspirin pill on her tongue. A second later he then holds the glass of water closer to her mouth and she gulps it down as quickly as she can. 

“Good job.” Trav mumbles, placing the glass on her bedside table again. There’s a drop of water running down her chin and his thumb is quick enough to wipe it away for her. 

“Did.. did anyone see me like this?” she mumbles then in deep worry, while clearly struggling to stay awake. He snuggles himself under the blanket with her again, helping her lay down properly. This time she’s facing him, makes it clear to him that she wants to be close. His hand lands on her cheek and in her neck, his lips finding their way onto her forehead. 

“I don’t think so. I managed to get you up here quickly. Spoke to Tree and the guy who got you the IV signed an NDA. No one will have to find out about this, sweetie. Don’t worry.” 

She nods slightly, her eyes closed. Travis takes a deep breath. She needs her sleep. Badly. He kisses her forehead one last time, then lets go of her. As soon as his hand leaves her neck is when she opens her eyes and her dry mouth once more. 

“Stay here, please.” 

He nods, moves closer and helps her bury herself completely in his arms. Her cold feet are now pressed between his warm legs, and her torso is wrapped fully into his arms. He kisses her head again and again, hoping to get her to fall asleep. 

Suddenly she moves again, sitting up for a moment. Trav looks at her, ready to grab the trash can a few inches away from him in case she's getting sick. 

“You good…”

She turns around and reaches for his hand. She looks at his bruised hand in shock, then back at him. 

“I punched the guy who did this to you. Broke his nose. Also, I’m banned from entering this shitty club ever again. Fucking shit hole.” 

She looks at him, drops her head on his chest in disbelief and closes her eyes. He giggles slightly at her reaction, more than glad that she seems to have regained enough consciousness to worry about his bruised hand. His healthy hand now lands on top of her head protectively. 

“What the fuck.” she whispers and he can’t argue with her. This whole night is a whole lot of what the fuck. 

“I’m just..” he looks at the ceiling, Taylor on his chest, being fully aware of the fact that she’s probably already asleep again. 

“I’m just so sorry for not.. not being there when this happened. I never wanted you to feel unsafe with me. I just..” 

“You’re literally the safest place I’ve ever known, idiot.” She croaks then, and he looks down and swallows. He didn’t expect her to answer him, didn’t expect her to actually hear him and certainly did not expect her to say something as fundamental as this. 

“I think..” she’s tired, struggling to find words and Travis moves immediately, his finger on her lips, signaling her that she doesn’t have to say anything to him right now. She needs to rest. That’s all she needs to do. Taylor understands, her eyes closed again. Travis kisses her forehead one last time before attempting to get some sleep as well. 

“I think I’m so lucky that something like this happened to me when you were there. And even when I couldn’t walk or speak or see or move my hands, I just.. knew you would take care of me. That’s how safe I feel with you.” she says with a broken voice, both eyes closed. Trav moves his mouth closer to her temple, his lips finding her skin. He kisses her on this spot for the longest time, tears streaming out of his eyes and onto the soft fabric of his pillow. 

[faithfulren]

rainy day

you and izuku get caught in the rain and take shelter together, leading to intimate conversations.

----

the school day had ended, and you found yourself walking home with izuku midoriya, as you often did. the sky had been clear all day, so neither of you had thought to bring an umbrella. however, as luck would have it, dark clouds rolled in quickly, and before you knew it, raindrops began to fall.

"uh-oh," you murmured, looking up at the sky. "i think we’re in for a downpour."

izuku glanced up, his eyes wide with concern. "we should find some shelter," he suggested, already scanning the area. he spotted a small, empty bus stop a little ways ahead and pointed it out. "over there!"

you both sprinted toward the bus stop, laughing as the rain started to pour more heavily. by the time you reached the shelter, you were both thoroughly soaked, your clothes clinging to your skin and water dripping from your hair.

"well, this is quite the adventure," you said, trying to wring out your shirt. izuku chuckled, running a hand through his wet hair.

"yeah, i guess we should have checked the weather forecast," he replied, shaking his head slightly.

the bus stop was small, and you found yourselves standing close together to stay under the shelter’s limited cover. despite the chilly rain, you felt a warmth spread through you as you stood next to izuku, his presence comforting and reassuring.

"do you think it’ll stop soon?" you asked, glancing at the rain falling in heavy sheets around you.

izuku shrugged, his green eyes thoughtful. "it might take a while. but at least we’re not getting any wetter."

you both fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the rhythmic patter of the rain. the world outside the shelter seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of safety.

"you know," izuku said softly, breaking the silence, "i actually like the rain. it’s kind of calming."

you turned to look at him, surprised. "really? i always thought it was kind of inconvenient. but I guess it does have a peaceful quality to it."

izuku smiled, his eyes meeting yours. "yeah. and it gives us moments like this, where we can just… be together."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. you'd always admired izuku’s kindness and determination, and moments like this made you realize just how much he meant to you.

"yeah," you agreed, your voice soft. "i like moments like this too."

izuku’s smile grew, and he looked down, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. "i'm glad," he said quietly. "i… i really enjoy spending time with you."

you felt a flutter in your chest, the sincerity in his voice making your heart race. "i enjoy spending time with you too, izuku."

he looked up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of hope and nervousness. "you do?"

you nodded, stepping a little closer. "yeah, i do. you’re always so kind and supportive. you make me feel… special."

izuku’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. "you’re special to me too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i… i’ve liked you for a while now."

your breath caught in your throat at his confession, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. "izuku, i've liked you too," you said, your voice trembling with honesty. "i was just afraid to tell you."

a look of relief and joy spread across izuku’s face, and he took your hand in his, his grip warm and reassuring despite the chill of the rain. "i’m so glad you told me," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

you smiled, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment wash over you. "me too."

as the rain continued to fall around you, you stood there, hand in hand, sharing a moment of intimate connection. the world outside might have been cold and wet, but in that small bus stop, you found warmth and comfort in each other, knowing that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.