#taking fish boy to the chippie and getting him some fish n' chips

[bloo-the-dragon]

Happy Valentine’s Day!! 💙

I'M LATE BUT WAAAA THANKYOU!!

[waywardsummoner46]

(Un)Pleasantville

A/N: Second one shot, yay! Definitely toying with expanding this as well as my Lucifer!Sam and Michael!Dean fic. I’m open to requests and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (never had one before, oo this is exciting). As ever enjoy the fic and let me know what you think!

Word count ~ 1620

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Alright so, not to sugar coat anything but this was an absolute nightmare.

  You, Sam and Castiel had gotten word of a hunt - well more Sam but that’s besides the point - and had left yesterday. You’d paused at a gas station outside of a place called Charming Acres but the dude at the counter said something was off about the place… so naturally (or supernaturally) you all went to check it out. And a dude’s head just completely blew up out of the blue after he came in for his phone?

  Pulling into the town itself, now that was something. You felt as though you’d walked into a 1950s sitcom about some cheesy, lovesick marriage story. Something that you’d like to stay well away from. Consequently, you met a cheesy, lovesick couple called Justin and Cindy Smith who said they’d heard absolute zilch about any deaths and “this is a very close-knit community, nothing goes on here without everyone knowing” blah blah blah.

  Anyway, the strangest thing for you wasn’t the clothes, nor was it the 1950s behaviour, no, it was the fact Justin didn’t seem to recognise what a phone was. You silently ogled at him but he paid no attention to you. So now you definitely thought something was off about this place. 

  After that fateful encounter, you all stumbled upon the local diner “Harrington’s” who was run by the Mayor Chip Harrington and his daughter Sunny. You thought Sunny was a very sweet young woman who honestly looked like someone you’d get along with, however you noticed her head perked up once conversation about Conrad (watermelon head guy) started. Castiel so delicately stated, “Oh no! His head exploded” rendering everyone in the diner speechless.

  The Mayor stuttered for a moment then questioned “Excuse me?”

  “Like a ripe melon in the sun.”

  Whilst this confrontation was happening, Sunny gave you and Sam milkshakes, as Cas had refused earlier, so you were busy trying not to spit it out as you found that conversation hilarious. Chippy boy gave you the information where Conrad was last seen and then you all took off but not before Sam abruptly said “Alright, you know what? We’re leaving, bye.” And that was that.

  When you’d all arrived at the boarding house, a too cheerful Ms. Dowling greeted you at the door, and creepily said she knew you were coming because it’s a small town and things travel fast. Honestly, what is it with these people? From there, and after a brief explanation on why you all were there, she showed you to Conrad’s room and said he moved in a few weeks ago.

  Being your observant self, you came to the conclusion that the bed had been barely used but there were passionate and just plain disgusting letters under the mattress addressed from Sunny (so maybe she wasn’t so innocent, neither were you).

   At the same time Sam suggested you all stay overnight and divulge and investigate more thoroughly in the morning and yet his almost desperate tone of voice put you on edge. Obviously, you were all tired and weary but Sam was just on a whole new level of “oh this is amazing, we should stay here because it’s so cool”. So reluctantly, you and Cas agreed but not before exchanging an uncertain glance with each other, the intuition of a teenager and an angel right?

  Sam and you were sharing a room since Cas had insisted on his own, and instantly something changed with how he addressed you. “(Y/N), please take your shoes off, you’ll ruin this lovely carpet,” and “(Y/N), sweetheart, don’t you think wearing something a little more lady-like would be more appropriate, hm?” 

 All you could do what was sit and stare because not once had Sam ever been this pedantic or pathetic and he certainly had never called you “sweetheart”, so too baffled to engage in intelligent conversation, you went to bed just after Sam as you were too busy burning incredulous holes into the back if his hairy head. Struggling to grasp sleep, you softly whispered a “What the fuck?” and thank god Sam didn’t hear you because you would’ve absolutely hated the outcome.

  The next morning you were woken up quite rudely by an angel banging on your door. Blearily you struggled out of bed and opened the door, rubbing your eyes. “What time is it?” You said.

 “Time to get up, get dressed and Sam-Sam?”

 Noting Castiel’s confusion, you turned quickly in what was once Sam’s direction only to find your lovable older brother had disappeared to Chuck knows where. Great, man hunt at ridiculous o’clock in the morning. Cas immediately raced down to the stairs to seemingly find Ms. Dowling leaving you rushing to change into something more appropriate that pyjamas.

 Descending the stairs you notice the front door open and a frantic looking Castiel waiting in the Impala, waving for you to get in. Shouting a quick “thank you!” to Ms. Dowling, you sprant for the car and sat in Sam’s seat.

 Castiel started the car and you asked “So? We know where he went?” 

  “I’ve been told he left this morning saying he was going on a walk to the diner and wanted a milkshake, but only after screaming at Ms. Dowling who had her eardrums blocked with ear plugs,” he said. You nodded, absorbing the information and pondered why Sam would just up and leave for a milkshake.

  “Cas, you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the milkshake? Or like, this town in general? Because I do and Sam was being a real overbearing douchebag after you left yesterday and acting completely out of character.”

 He didn’t hesitate to nod his head, “I must admit, the strange customs have piqued my interest and Sam did drink quite a lot of that milkshake yesterday so it might be a possibility that there is a supernatural force going on here.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but you’d turned a corner and arrived just before the diner. Castiel left the car and went to inspect whilst you decided a smart move would be to ring Sam’s phone… only to find it ringing in the back of the car. Typical frustrating Winchester. 

  Placing your hands on your head, you massaged your temples and tried to think of any reasonable explanation as to what on earth was going on. 

 You heard the driver’s door being opened and looked over to see Castiel already turning the keys in the ignition. “He’s gone to Mr and Mrs. Smith's house,” was the only explanation you received.

  Suddenly determined, you nodded and said, “Alright, we’re getting somewhere, onward!” So, the car started and picked up speed, as you made your way to the Smith’s house you took a chance to observe the area a bit more.

  It was definitely something outdated and old-fashioned but the people did look happy, even if the shops were called something despicable like “The Rainbow Restaurant". It was very bright and colourful and you didn’t doubt that even if a thunderstorm hit, these people would still be acting on top of the world.

  Upon finally reaching your destination, you took notice of the white-picket fence and the massive garden. The house was huge and definitely unnecessary for only two people. Regardless, you and Cas sauntered up to the door and knocked three times respectively. On the third Cindy opened the door with a clear smile on her face and a very pleasant scent of lavender perfume. “Hello, can I help you?”

 You and Cas glanced at each other before he answered, “First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for your husband's death but we really need to know-”

  He was cut off by a very confused Cindy Smith who said, “My husband? Honey, I think you might be mistaken. My darling husband is in the kitchen, fetching his newspaper. Justin, dear, come say hello!” 

 Again, Cas looked like he wanted to continue but a very familiar, moose-like voice interrupted “Coming darling! Won’t take two slices  of a carrot cake!” It was, unmistakably, Sam.  You gaped and stared questioningly at Cas in silent question. He merely returned your look.

  Moments later, Sam appeared in the doorway. Wearing a pair of glasses. A ponytail. And a fucking cardigan. A cardigan, because why the hell not? He wrapped his hands around Cindy’s waist and looked at us in confusion. Or sorry, at Cas in confusion, but when his gaze landed on you his face went more stern. 

 “Young lady, do you not remember what I said about un lady-like clothing? Because those denim jeans and that ridiculous jumper are hardly suitable for my daughter, little miss. I suggest you get in this house right now and put on that lovely dress your mother bought you,” he basically seethed.

  Now you were definitely the equivalent of a fish, with your wide mouth and wide eyes. You managed to compose yourself a bit before stuttering “Sam?”

 His eye twitched and there was no warning before he grabbed your arm and pulled you in the house then promptly dragged you into the sitting area. He guided you to the sofa on the left of the fireplace and very softly explained, “My sweet honey, I know that this is hard for you, but your mother and I want what’s best for you. Now, be a good girl and wait here until your mother and I have finished our pleasant conversation with our new neighbour, hm?” Then he planted a kiss on your forehead and returned to Cindy’s side to continue conversing with Cas.

  All you could think was: what the fuck?

[aficwhore]

Truth Is (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2: In the Moonlight

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After Benny’s fight, Chipmunk and Frankie bicker and have a heated argument, leading to something unexpected. When the moment passes the gang goes back to ‘Chip’s’ place to prepare for Colombia in the morning. Fish and ‘Chip’ reunite in the moonlight, but not for long. 

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: I was so excited to start this new part, I had no exact plan on how I want it to go, but I went with what I was feeling in the moment. On a Side note THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS, you all are so special to me <3.

“And the winner is!” The announcer yelled, his voice echoing through the arena, pausing just enough to make us anxious, “Ben Miller!” He then raised the hand which held Benny’s arm, to showcase the successor.

In seconds you could hear Will, “Yeah! That’s my baby brother!” followed by proud roars, ours being the loudest in the crowd. I jumped from my seat and started jumping up and down. Too distracted by my glee, I didn’t notice Frankie had stood up from next to me. Once I saw him from the corner of my eye, he picked me up, jumping with me pressed to him, Santi and Tom cheering and playfully slapping each other and Will. 

Though the whole room was bursting with noise and people, when I made eye contact with Francisco, it felt like the whole world stopped. As if we were the only ones here. His smile slowly dropped into a face conflicted with lust and other emotions, I guess mine did the same. He slowly released me, placing me back on my feet, his eyes still bore into mine. 

After a few seconds, his eyes flickered down to my lips. He leaned closer to me, attempting to bring his lips to mine. Feeling my heart stop when his lips lightly brushed mine, I quickly pull away, before our lips could fully meet. Clearing my throat, “We should hurry up and congratulate Benny, then we can all go rest at my house.” 

Fish’s expression read nothing but confusion and sadness. “I-uh, yeah sure.” I swiftly turned to find the boys, but they had already started to make their way through the crowd and back to the locker room. 

My body began to buzz with emotions, not knowing how to feel in this moment. I didn't quite understand why I pulled away, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but something didn’t feel right. The timing maybe, or even just the setting, or maybe the fact that I haven’t had closure from that one night many months ago. 

Trying to snap out of my thoughts, I walked a little faster to catch up, hopefully leaving Frankie behind so I could shake this feeling. As I swiftly made it back into the locker room I saw the rest of them surrounding Benny on the bench and making jokes, while Will held a towel to his face, collecting the blood dripping from his split eyebrow.

“Chippy!” the younger Miller exclaimed when his eyes made contact with mine. “Sad to see I didn’t lose?” he questioned with a smirk playing on his lips. 

Shaking my head and laughing, I glided over to him, taking over for Will, and pulling the towel away, examining the cut. “You may have won, but this sure does look nasty Benny Boy.” I light heartedly explained.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to patch me up.” He chuckled, a small pleading look in his eyes.

I quickly turned to Will “If I’m gonna fix this, I’m gonna need a first aid kit.” All he did was nod before trailing off the grab one. 

Before I could realize Frankie was in the room with us I heard, “You did great out there kid.” He gave him a nod of approval. “Honestly was surprised, the other guy was a lot bigger than you, which I didn’t think was possible.” 

Benny burst into laughter, Frankie, Santi, and Tom joining in as Will came back and handed me the kit. “Alright boys, I think we should give Mr. BigShot here, a break.” I suggested, opening the kit and pulling out some alcohol pads, gauze, and some bandaids. They all nodded and filed out the back door into the parking lot.

As I began to dab at Benny’s eyebrow, he flinched. “So, you gonna finally tell Fish about everything? You know, since now you guys are kinda talking again?”

“Ben...No, I can’t. You know that. Only you and your brother know.” I explained, attempting to use butterfly tape to seal the cut closed. Carefully, I secured the tape with a bandaid over it, making sure to be gentle as Benny sat perfectly still in front of me, staring at me.

“Fish would be understanding, maybe even regretful with how he acted. If you just told him, he would realize how dumb everything was!” The kid chirped in a hopeful tone.

With a frustrated sigh, I spoke. “No Benny, I don’t think it’s worth it, because I’m not over how he handled it all.” I turned away from him, picking up the trash from the first aid kit.

He tried to convince me again, reaching up for my shoulder. “But you won't even give it a chance, what if-” 

“No! I already said no! Leave it alone! If I want to, then I will do it when I want to!” I shouted, letting my anger out. I yanked out of his grip, causing a sad look to appear on his slightly tattered face. He stayed silent, making me feel quite bad for raising my voice. “Look hun, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just so many emotions were awoken today. You can’t blame me.”

He quietly shook his head and stood up. Towering over me, he stepped towards me and wrapped his big and long arms around me, securing me in a well-needed hug. “I’m sorry, I pushed it, I shouldn’t have. I get it, you need time to process and heal. Don’t apologize, I love you Chip.” 

“I love you too B.” I hugged him back for a brief moment. “But please, for the love of all things holy, go take a shower.” I tilted back smiling up at him, reaching up and pinching my nose shut to make fun of him.

“That’s rude.” He scoffed with a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you tonight at your’s, right?” He asked as he gathered his things, heading off to the showers.

I nodded, waving and spinning around to leave out the back. When I walked through the door, I was greeted with Frankie. He was leaning against the wall next to the door. I glanced around, in hopes to find the others, but they all had vanished.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” He spoke, pushing himself off the wall and towards me. I nonchalantly crossed my arms, still looking around.

“What about the others?” I inquired, wanting to avoid this conversation.

“They left, I told them I would drive you home and meet them there after they grab everything.” He revealed, taking in an encouraging breath. “But I wanted to talk to you about something, about us. To be exact.” He paused, stretching his hand out, behind his neck. As he began to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, he continued. “Look, I know things happened very badly, and I could’ve listened. And if I did, maybe we would- I don’t know, maybe we would still be together. But if you just told me the truth-”

“Excuse me? I know you are not trying to apologize and then still say its my fault I didn’t tell you everything?” I interrupted angrily. 

His body tensed, I could physically see the anger arising in him. “Would you just shut up and let me talk?” He spat, making me slightly jump in my skin. “This is another reason why things happened the way they did, you don’t know when to stop and be quiet.”

“You know what, fuck you.” I reacted, “Want to know what I was keeping from you? Want to finally know the goddamned truth? Well Dr. Philips is my fucking therapist.” His face contorted with confusion. “I was getting help, because I was getting worse again. The nightmares came back, and so did the depression, but I was too ashamed of telling anyone. So Fuck off Frankie.” 

Twisting around, I began to make my way out to the street. “Nena (babygirl), damn it, please, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.” He pleaded from behind me. 

Completely ignoring him, I kept walking in the direction of my apartment, even though it was blocks, maybe even miles away. When I heard his footsteps get closer, I sped up, trying to lose him once again. Then finally, it was quiet, except the sound of my own feet on the sidewalk and the bustle of the city.

After walking for a few more minutes, my anger calmed, until I heard a car pull up and drive slowly next to me. 

“Por favor (please), get in the car.” Francisco’s voice came from the window of the car. I acted as if I didn’t hear anyone and kept walking, facing straight ahead. “Stop being stubborn and get in! You can’t walk all the way home, it’s going to get dark!”

I rolled my eyes, still ignoring him. Then I no longer could hear the car, which piqued my curiosity, had he really given up that easily? I slowed my pace and as I turned my head to glance behind me, I was lifted into the air. “Hey! Put me down! Help! Help!” I screamed.

“Would you cut it out!” Frankie shouted, struggling to hold on to me as I swung and flailed in his arms. 

“I’m being kidnapped! Someone help!” I kept yelling. “Save me-” My voice being muted as he clamped a firm hand over my mouth, continuing to drag me into his car. As he was forcing me to sit in the passenger side, he yelped. “I know you did not just bite me!”

I huffed, “Well if you weren't trying to abduct me, I wouldn't have to!” His hand reached over me to buckle the seat belt around me, I leaned forward, attempting to bite him again. 

“What are you?! A fucking piranha?!” He screeched, yanking back.

Though he pulled back, his face was still inches away from mine. Our eyes met again. Our feud seemed to melt away with each passing second that his eyes bore into mine. I no longer wanted to put up a fight. Every inch of me ached for me to forgive him and make up, but I couldn’t. No matter how badly I wished to, I knew that our split wasn’t my fault, nor his, but its both of our faults for being so stubborn. 

“Baby,” He spoke softly, pulling me back to reality. His gorgeous brown eyes still locked on mine. His lips lay slightly open, fanning his breath across my face. His breath smelled like mint, it mixed with his scent. He always smelled woodsy, like pine and bergamot. I had missed his intoxicating smell for so long, that I wanted to revel in it, even just for a few seconds. 

I reached out my hand, letting it carefully caress his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. He didn’t move, he stayed just a hand’s length away, allowing me to sweep my fingers along his cheek, down his neck, and to the collar of the shirt he wore. I gripped the ring of fabric and tugged him forward, crashing his pillowy lips against mine. 

It wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was a needy, rough kiss. Our teeth clashed as our lips parted, inviting each other in. Our tongues swept across each other as one of his hands tangled into my hair and the other gripping my jaw, coaxing me to open up more for him.

It felt like sweet relief, longing and pining had been all forgotten. The man I missed so much, was right in front of me, touching me, kissing me, which I dreamed of for nights on end. 

When I let go of his shirt and began to trail my hand lower, Frankie released my jaw and stopped my hand. He broke the kiss, offering a light chuckle when I whined at the loss of contact. 

“You have no idea how much I missed that. How much I missed you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t respect your boundaries and that you weren’t ready to tell me.” He whispered with worry, placing his forehead on mine, rubbing his nose against my nose. I closed my eyes taking in the feeling. He laced his fingers with mine, with the hand that still held it to his chest. 

“I know Francisco, I’m sorry too. I should’ve told you, I could've still had you all these past months if I just got over myself and came clean.” I choked out, trying to keep calm.

He squeezed my hand, “Its okay, it’s over now. Please tell me its over.” It sounded like he was close to crying.

I nodded quickly, not wanting to speak, because if I did, I know my voice would crack with emotion. 

He remained crouched halfway into the passenger side, forehead to forehead with me. “Amor (love), they're going to make it to my house before I do.” I giggled, regretting my words moments later when we split. He nodded with a smile, stepped back and shut my door. He hurried around and got back in, starting the engine and making his way to my apartment. 

During the drive he reached over, taking my hand in his, and glancing over every once in a while to make sure I was okay. 

We sat in comfortable silence, until he spoke up. “I still have to run by my place and grab my things, do you mind if we stop on the way?” 

“Not at all.” I responded, bringing up our joined hands, to kiss the back of his. 

We rushed to his place, I stayed in the car as he ran in and gathered what he needed. It all seemed a blur, the euphoria from the event minutes before clouding my brain. 

When we made it back to my place it was dark and everyone was already inside, I guess one of the Miller’s used their spare key to get in. I helped Frankie grab his bags and head inside with them. As we walked through the door, the rest of the team was huddled on my couch, scarfing down pizza which I assume Benny bought. They glanced up and waved quickly before going back to eating and watching whatever they were playing on the TV. I set Fish’s stuff down with the other’s and walked further into the living room to find that the boys had laid out their blankets and pillows for the night already. 

I sat on the floor in front of the boys and grabbed a slice of pizza while Frankie set up his own area to sleep. When he finished, he strolled over and sat next to me. 

For the rest of the movie they guys were watching, we ate and chatted until we got tired and were ready for bed. I made sure to pick up the mess we made and helped the boys get comfy. When they were all laid down and falling fast asleep like children, I smiled to myself as I turned off the lights and headed to my room to turn in for the night. 

I tiptoed quietly, careful not to wake them as I walked to the laundry room and changed into my sleep clothes. Right as I made it back to my room, a hand reached out and covered my mouth to muffle the startled scream I was about to let out. 

“Its me, its just me.” Frankie’s voice contrasted with the silence of the room. I relaxed, turning around to face him. It was dark but I could still see some of his features with the help of the moonlight coming through the windows. 

His eyes crinkled with a smile, his teeth shining brightly. I couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him. This kiss was loving and gentle. His lips moved against mine as I let my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Feeling him flush against me, made my skin become hot with want and need. 

He seemed to notice because he deepened the kiss, pushing me further into my room and shutting the door behind us. In seconds he spun us around and pressed me against the wall. He tilted his head back to look at me, not daring to move, except his arm.

His cool hand trailed up my thigh, dragging my sleepshirt with it. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. The material bunching on my hip, revealing the shorts I had on. I felt breathless from his touch as his index finger dipped into the waistband, lightly tugging on it. “Please tell me you need this as much as I do cariño.” He pauses with his nose nudging the side of my jaw, waiting for a response.

“Yes, pl-please, just touch me Frankie.” I stuttered, feeling my heart beat harder for him. In an instant, he drug the shorts down my legs, following them, and kissing the skin they surpassed. Once they were off and tossed away, he began his journey back up, but stopping at my stomach. I gasped as he kissed and licked at the hem of my panties, tasting the fabric and soft tummy underneath.

Through his eyelashes, he looked up and met my admiring gaze. My skin burned with desire, as if his touch was the only cure.

With little effort he wrapped one of his hands around my calf, pulling it up, and placing it over his shoulder, causing me to push my weight against the wall behind me. A small smirk finds its way to his face as he moves my panties to the side. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I carded my hand through his hair, silently begging him to touch me.

“Paciencia mi amor (Patience my love).” his breath ghosted over my wet core, making me whimper with need. And at that moment he dipped down, placing a sloppy kiss where I wanted him most.

He placed another open mouth kiss on my mound, letting his tongue peak out and part me. My breath hitched when I felt his warm tongue flick at my aching clit. He did it again, causing me to buck my hips, asking for more friction. As he continued, slowly beginning to roll and suck on the bundle of nerves, he ran his hands up the back of my thighs, gripping my ass and pulling more of my weight onto his shoulders. 

He sucked harder, bringing a hand forward, and dipping his fingers into my wetness. “Fuck, I missed your sweet taste.” He murmured from between my legs, scissoring me open with his fingers. A moan escaped my lips, not loud, but enough to spur Frankie on. He started to go faster, working me closer and closer to the edge. His hot breath encompassing my wet heat when he would open his mouth to lick a broad stripe up my slit.

Losing focus on all things other than the man situated at my cunt, I could feel him swiping his tongue across my lips, as if he was spelling something. His movements were too intricate for me to understand, if he was spelling. 

I could feel a mix of my arousal and his spit start to drip down my thigh, sending a shiver up my spine. He broke away from my wetness, and chased the leaking fluid, catching it with his tongue, licking and sucking up the trail slowly, teasing me, making me wait longer for a release. 

My head started to spin with lust, nothing but quiet whimpers and his name leaving my mouth. “Please, stop teasing m-” I was cut off by him curling his fingers and speeding up. He placed his mouth back on me, determined to make me finish. I tugged his hair on accident, the pleasure surging through my body.

He moaned into me from my actions, vibrations radiating through me, allowing the coil in my stomach to tighten quickly. “Yes, don’t stop,” I moaned, trying to keep my voice low. Even though my body burned for me to scream in ecstasy, there were four other men in my living room asleep.

He curled his fingers again, hitting my g-spot. A loud moan eludes me, I quickly bring my hand, free of his hair, up to my lips, biting the skin on the back, in hopes of muffling my noises.

Just as I thought I had it under control, the coil tightened to its max, and snapped. I felt my legs rush with heat and wetness. MY legs threatened to give out as Frankie kept going, prolonging the white, hot, orgasm ripping through me. He gripped my ass again, holding me up, he could feel my legs tremble around him. 

Feeling a little too sensitive I slightly jerked away, slowing coming down from cloud nine. He took this as a sign to stop, he pulled back, placed a gentle kiss to my lips for the last time. He peered up at me, watching my relaxed face come back to reality, and stroking my thighs. 

As my breathing calmed, I looked down, finding my handsome Frankie, staring at me with adoration in his eyes and a smile on his face. I picked my leg off his shoulder, leaned over and grabbed his face in my hands, tugging him up to meet me, embracing him in a passionate and strong kiss. 

I could taste myself on his lips, his face wet with my slick, letting our lips glide smoothly against each other. He placed his hands back on my ass, walking back towards the bed, and me still pressed to him.

His knees backed into the edge of the frame, but he still stood tall. I broke the kiss, a seductive smile on my lips. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, showing my bare chest to him. I tossed the shirt away and stepped out of my soaked panties, kicking them into the abyss of the dark room.

Frankie watched me intently, never taking his eyes off my frame. I came close to him, my fingers playing with this shirt. In seconds he tore off his shirt and began to yank his shorts and underwear down. Once they pooled at his feet, I leaned into him, kissing his jaw, nipping at the skin while my hand found his naked member, hard and leaking. His breath caught in his throat when I lightly stroked him. 

“I’m not go-going to last long baby, its been too long.” He choked out, struggling to keep his cool. I nodded, placing one last kiss to his neck. I stepped next to him, to get on the bed. I got on my knees, looking back to make sure he was watching me. As we made eye contact, I slowly bent forward, stretching my arms out straight in front of me. I guided my chest down and into the mattress, leaving my ass in the air and on display for him. 

I relaxed my face into the covers, feeling him touching my thighs and ass, lightly pinching the skin as he traveled up the skin. 

“Mierda (shit), all for me?” he questioned with a playful slap to my right cheek, luring a soft moan from me.

“Yes, all for you Frankie, always.” I responded, shaking my ass, hoping he would fuck me soon. The bed dipped behind my knees as he joined me. Thats when I felt his hard cock pressed to my cunt. He tapped himself on my clit, causing me to surge forward at the contact. 

He chuckled, “Are you sure princesa?” as he ran his head through my folds, eliciting a moan from me.

“Yes, Jesus Frankie, just fuck me already.” I growled frustratedly.

At my command, he lined himself up at my entrance and pushed into me. The stretch was borderline painful, it had been months since I'd taken him, and he was already bigger than all my exes.

Once he bottomed out, he gripped my hip and snaked his free arm around me, pulling me up and flush against his chest. He began to kiss and suck my neck, slowly rocking into me. His hand stayed at the base of my neck, splayed across my collarbones, pressing me into him. 

“Faster,” I whined, feeling him move quicker and more deliberately. His breath tickled my ear as he groaned, feeling me tightly wrapped around him.

As his pace quickened, I reached a hand behind me and braced it on his upper thigh, attempting to meet his hips. With a particularly aimed thrust, I moaned fairly loud, being consumed by the pleasure.

“Shh,” He spoke between grunts, “Unless you want the boys to know that I'm balls deep in you, filling you up with my cock.” He gave a hard thrust, never losing his pace. My free hand slapped my mouth, covering my cries.

Our hips sped up, meeting more passionately, with more meaning. With every thrust, all problems between us seemed to dissipate. I no longer cared about all things before tonight. All that mattered was him, us, and this moment. Being connected to him again never felt so good.

All that could be heard in the silence was the snap of his hips against mine, the small noises we let escape us, and the quiet creak of the bed below us. The moonlight illuminated our entangled bodies, the sweat gleaming in the night. 

The coil in my stomach tightening again, the waves of pleasure threatening to spill over the edge. Frankie had to be getting close, his thrusts became more erratic. He reached his hand from hip, down to my clit, rubbing in tight circles, trying to bring me to the brink with him.

“Fuck you're so tight, w-where do you-” He questioned until I cut him off.

“Cum in me baby.” I moaned, feeling my orgasm take over, the waves of bliss crashing down, taking me with it. Whiteness blinded my vision as my body convulsed against his chest. 

He thrusted a few more times before he let out a broken grunt, pumping his load into me, mixing our hot releases together, letting them seep out and down our legs. 

I turned my head to the side, reaching back and grabbing the back of Frankie’s head, pulling him into a kiss as we calmed down. The smell of sex filling our senses. He slowly pulled out causing me to whine at the loss of him. 

When we finally recovered, he got off the bed, taking me with him to the bathroom. He sat me on the sink, opened the cabinet underneath and grabbed a cloth, coming back up to wet it. Then he gently spread my thighs apart, cleaning up the remnants of the act. He then cleaned himself.

“You should go to the bathroom while I grab our pajamas.” He spoke softly, pressing a kiss to my lips and turned to scavenge for our clothes we had lost in the dark corners of my room. 

I hopped off the counter and sat on the toilet. I went to the bathroom, but began to feel exhausted. My eyelids felt heavy, drooping over my eyes.

Frankie came back in, only dressed in his boxers, my clothes in his hand. “I know love, let’s get you dressed so we can sleep.” He whispered, helping me up and helped me get dressed. His face had an unreadable expression, what could he be thinking? All was forgotten when he picked me up bridal style and led us to my bed, he pulled the covers back and laid me down, tucking me in. 

He wondered around the bed and got in behind me. He pulled me to his chest as sleep began to drag me under. His arm laid across my body and his hand splayed across my chest, feeling my heartbeat. Thats all I could process as I fell more deeply into slumber.

It may have been a dream but I felt him lean over, kiss my temple and whisper “I’m sorry for everything.” And everything went peacefully dark.

I couldn't tell how long I was asleep until someone began to shake me. “Chip, get up, it’s time to leave.” I groaned, not wanting to get out of the comfort of my bed and the comfort of Frankie next to me, or so I thought. 

My eyes snapped open to find Ben crouched next to the bed, face to face with me. I jolted up with surprise, quickly looking around to find Frankie, only to be disappointed. 

“Woah woah! Calm down, it’s Benny.” The man child looked frightened. 

I sighed, maybe it was a good thing Fish wasn’t in here, it could make a lot of questions amongst the team arise. But when did he leave? 

“Oh sorry Ben, I-I was sleeping too hard,” I lied. 

“It seems so,” he chuckled “Breakfast is ready, everyone is up and ready.” He explained. I nodded and he left, allowing me privacy to change. I quickly threw on my cargo pants and shirt, rushing to grab my packed bags. I brushed my teeth and hair in a hurry. I headed straight past everyone in the kitchen, out the door to throw my things in the truck.

When I came back in, everyone was staring at me. But I only made eye contact with one of them, Frankie. And the look on his face pained me, his expression was full of regret.

TAGLIST

@tanyaherondale​

@winter-fox-queen​

@supernaturalgirl​

@actual-spawn-of-satan​

@hnt-escape

@toomanystoriessolittletime​

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

[royalsunshinehotel]

How bout a continue of moving with Neal to the UK or lockdown with Neal or meeting his family

A/N: I’ve never flown internationally. Don’t @ me

That's It.

You were embarrassed, and you had absolutely no reason to be.

It’s Neal. It’s Neelamani Sampat, your boyfriend, the one you brag to your friends about, the good guy. The one who loves you. He’d spent his summers visiting family in India, and of course, he was naturally from the UK.. He knew about international travel quite well.

And he had no idea you’d never been out of New York. Or on an airplane.

There’s a half second in takeoff where you grab his hand and he just seems to know. He seems to realize that the farthest you’d ever been from home was New Jersey.

And why would you leave New York?

I mean, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been anywhere. One wrong turn and you’re in Little Italy, or Romania, or Russia! You could go wherever you wanted, and still be six blocks from your apartment.

And now, somehow, you agreed to follow your boyfriend to the UK, where his family may or may not agree to let you stay with them until you both find a place. It’s ridiculous. Or it wasn’t.

Neal got an offer he couldn’t refuse from the BBC and you got one too.

It was totally logical. You’re fine. It’s fine. Everything you owned fit in the two bags you’d brought, and you were setting off across the world with the one you love.

Neal grips your hand tighter as if he could feel you stewing, and ‘it’s fine’ feels true.

Besides, it was only six hours from JFK.

Neal kept you awake with rants about UK ghosts and cryptids, and all the places he was going to show you when you both landed.

It doesn’t seem real, as you stepped out into the humidity, there’s no possible way that you could have done this.

It’s not true. It’s just like you to take a big swing when the occasion arises. You’re bold like that

“We should get some food!” Neal presses a kiss to your temple as you wrap him into a hug. Your bags are stupidly heavy, and all you want to do is sleep, even though it appeared to be the middle of the day here.

You give Neal a small sigh and let him wrap you in his arms as you reach a hand up to feel his heart.

Fast. Just like yours.

“Yeah, I’m starving.” You weren’t particularly, but it’s a good excuse to get out of the godforsaken airport the two of you had gotten lost in.

“Doesn’t your brother work at a chippie?” You ask as Neal hides his face in your neck.

“He does.” Neal hums nonchalantly. “Are we going to go jump your brother?” You laugh, trying to figure out what a smaller Neal Sampat would look like. It would just be a giant pile of gangly limbs and giant ears.

“Well, he’s going to flirt with you, so I'll have to tackle him.” Neal grabs one of your bags and the two of you make your way to a blessed exit sign, and out into the stark light of day, to call a cab.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, attempting to look like you haven’t been awake for the past twelve hours, and Neal only scoffs and kisses your cheek.

“Radiant.” He takes your hand and the two of you step through the glass doors of a wonderfully greasy looking fish and chips store.

Or a chippie, as Neal says.

“RAVINDER!!” Neal dropped your hand and yelled at the top of his lungs. A small boy behind the counter looked absolutely bewildered.

A beat passes when the boy adjusts his glasses.

“NEAL!” He screams right back, hopping over the counter in a surprisingly fluid movement and launching himself right into Neal’s arms.

“AHH!” yelled Neal, pushing his little brother’s face into his neck. Ravi, as you knew him, was tall for age 16 at 6’0. Neal was relieved to be 6’2. Just brotherly competitiveness, you supposed. “AHH!” Ravi declares, right back in Neal’s face.

Just as you suspected, it appeared that Neal immediately went to put Ravi in a headlock, to better mess with his hair. But as it happens, Ravi wasn’t having it, and was attempting to get Neal’s feet off the ground.

Neither man weighed too much, but it was still quite a sight to see.

Another beat passes, so you clear your throat.

They both start to realize that you’re there.

“God, Ravi!!” Neal puts his brother down and backs away, to stand by you. “This is my Y/N!

It was funny the kinds of things that could make you blush now. You had been with Neal for a solid year and he called you my Y/N.

“Oh the YN he talks to Mom about constantly!” The words don’t seem to make a dent, you’re just stunned at how much he looks like your Neal. The boy took your hand up to his mouth to give it a small kiss, and you could die right there.

“How are you, ma’am.” You don’t have words.

“God Ravi, can you just-” And Neal has Ravi in a headlock once more.

He’s got a sharp nose, just like your Neal.

He’s got dark, curly hair, just like your Neal.

He’s got comically large feet, just like your Neal.

The main difference was his eyes weren’t a warm dark, but a touch lighter, closer to amber.

You wonder which parent Ravi got that from.

You take a seat in a booth and watch Neal reunite with his little brother like it’s a WWE match, and are partially tempted to take out your phone and start filming.

It hadn’t sunk in until this moment that Neal hadn’t been home in six years. This has been a long time coming and however he wanted to express this, you’d support it.

“What’s all the ruckus,” a deep voice cuts through the filtered air, “Ravi if those boys are back- Neelamani?” A small, portly man comes out of the plastic double doors that lead to the kitchen. His apron was grease-stained and he had a baseball hat on backwards.

All you can do is watch and enjoy.

“Sai!!” Neal bounces away from Ravi, who took a seat by you in the booth. Neal pushed himself directly into the small man’s arms, smiling from ear to ear.

“YN this is Sai!!” He gestured to the newcomer, as if you hadn’t noticed. “He gave me my first job!!” You laugh as Neal and Sai start conversing in Punjabi.

Something was being put into your heart, you couldn’t quite tell what, but this is home.

Neal is home. Neal’s your home. That’s it.

Your train of thought is interrupted by Ravi putting a hand on your arm, eyes round.

“I need to take you guys home!! Pa will be so excited!!”

“And your Mom?” You ask, somewhat dreading the answer.

“She’ll be pissed she doesn’t have any food prepared.” Ravi laughs, “I wonder if she’ll let you stay in Neal’s old room? It has spider man sheets.”

“Still?” Neal asks, in English. In America, it wasn’t uncommon for parents to keep their children’s rooms exactly the same as when they left. That must not be a thing here, you thought.

“What was Mom supposed to do, change it?” Ravi huffs, as if he was meant to inherit the room. There had to be a story there. You’d ask later.

“Spider man is hot.” You try, winking at Neal as he slides into the booth, wrapping an arm around you.

“I love you more and more, every day.” He kisses your cheek again and you give a light giggle. This was the right choice. You already knew.

He could have been disrespected at ACN, or he could be here with the people he loves. The choice wasn’t a hard one.

“We’re here.” He says, giving you a quick peck to the lips.

“We did it.” You reply, giving one right back.

“I didn’t miss you at all Neal. Let’s go already!” Ravi rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat, giving a grand sarcastic gesture to the door.

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#13 - Your Room’s on the First Floor

A/N- Hi! I know I haven’t been posting a lot, I’m sorry about that. But here’s a long-ish one for y’all. It’s nearly midnight here so sorry if there’s typos 😂 i love this one, it’s HELLA fluffy :) ~ Anna xxx

You stepped into the warmth of the B&B, quickly removing your sodden coat and hanging it on the free-standing wooden rack in the large hallway. You wiped your black Doc Martens on the doormat before removing them and placing them on the shoe rack to the left of the front door. Mary and Bernie’s B&B felt homely, with family photos hung on the walls, and their own shoes and coats on the racks as well as those of their guests. For example, next to your relatively new black Docs sat an identical (but larger) pair - old and scuffed, but clearly well-loved and worn. You presumed these belonged to the couple’s son, whom you’d never seen or met, but his parents spoke fondly enough of him for you to know he was a nice boy. 

The B&B felt quiet; nobody seemed to be home, which was unusual. However, you had returned at an unusual time compared to most guests, who would usually appear at about 6 or 7pm after having had their dinner, whereas it was only quarter past 2. You were sick of seeing your mum and new step-dad “canoodling” like a pair of sickeningly loved-up teenagers, and were sick of being told to “cheer up, you’re on holiday”. How did they expect you to be full of joy when they’d brought you to the arse-end of Wales? It was nothing like the holidays you went on with your dad, to exotic places like Morocco or Italy. 

“We’ve been through this, Y/N, Steve and I just don’t have money like your dad-” 

“Well if you’d stayed with Dad instead of fucking off with some old git from your shitty job, and somehow dragging me with you, we’d still be able to go on nice holidays!” 

And that was when you’d stormed off back to the B&B, leaving them to hold hands under the sunset, or eat fish and chips on the beach, or buy cheesy fridge magnets for no other reason than to disguise the complete mundaneness of the absolute shit holiday. Well, that’s what you’d presumed they’d end up doing, although you tried to kid yourself that you didn’t care, and that you didn’t cry yourself to sleep at night wishing that you could go back all those years, to when your parents were together and life was less shit. 

In a way, you were glad you’d had the argument, as it meant you had an excuse to go back and have a smoke. Smoking was your guilty pleasure, and, although you didn’t consider yourself addicted, you loved the sense of relief that came with sitting down and having a cigarette, watching the end light up and fall off as you gently sucked on the filter. There was something therapeutic about watching the embers fall off and create ash at your feet, and watch the patterns created in the cloud of smoke that would surround your face. 

Now wearing just your Oasis t-shirt, ripped jeans and fluffy socks, you walked up the carpeted stairs towards your room. However, once you reached the first floor, you stopped in your tracks. Was that a guitar you could hear?

You followed the melody up another flight, and along the second floor landing, until you reached a tiny room right at the very end of the hallway. The door was ever so slightly ajar, and you could now hear the lyrics of the song more clearly - When You Were Young by The Killers. The mystery guitar player clearly had good taste.

You stood outside the door, on the hinge side so the occupants of the room couldn’t see you, listening to the music. However, you decided you had to burst in when the lyric was changed to “he doesn’t look a thing like Larry”, preceded by a crescendo of laughter, part of which was coming from yourself.

“Um, hi,” you said, rather shyly considering the fact that you were the one who’d interrupted them, “I love this song.”

You looked up from your feet to see a long-haired boy sitting cross-legged on the ground, an acoustic guitar in his lap. Like you, he wore ripped jeans and fluffy socks, however he wore a The Streets hoodie. He was accompanied by another equally long-haired boy, however this one’s hair was pushed back by a headband, and he was barefoot, wearing a black Adidas tracksuit. 

“The Killers, absolutely class band, innit.” said Guitar boy, looking up at you, “You look cold.”

After he said that, you realised exactly how drenched you were. As much as you loved your black calf-length trenchcoat, you realised it wasn’t quite waterproof to Welsh standards.

“I did get a bit soaked actually,” you chuckled, “I should go get changed-”

“No, wait, sit down,” Guitar boy instructed, and you did as he said, “What are you doing back so early anyway? Mum said not to expect any guests till 6.”

“Oh, you’re the son, then!” you burst out.

Headband boy laughed. “He’s the son.”

“Sorry, this isn’t the best of introductions is it?” you laughed, aware of your own apparent rudeness, “I’m Y/N, and you are-?”

Both boys spoke up at the same time.

“I’m Van.” said Guitar boy.

“Larry.” said Headband boy.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you stood up, turning to go back to your own room, “But I actually just came back for a ciggie and I..umm... got a bit lost. I thought this was my room. Anyway, I better get back-”

“Hey, don’t leave so soon!” Van said, seemingly offended, “Look, we have plenty of fags under here!” 

He reached under his bed to pull out a packet of Lambert and Butler Blue. He took one out expertly before handing it to you.

“Got a light?” you asked, “Mine’s in my room, I really don’t mind going and getting my own if you don’t want to share-”

“Just shut up and take the free fag,” Larry interrupted, “What do you smoke anyway?”

“Anything I can get my hands on, but Marlboro Silver at the moment-”

“Marlboro? You’re posh!” Larry teased, “They’re well expensive!”

“I’m not posh!” you laughed, going red in the face.

“She is well posh, have you seen her mum and dad?” Van chipped in.

“Not my dad.” you replied, deftly. The phrase had almost become a reflex now.

“Wait, how do you know my parents? I’ve been here three days and I haven’t seen you once!” 

You leant against Van as he explained how he’d been at Larry’s, which was “just down the road there, then the avenue, opposite the chippy”. You shivered as you puffed the cigarette.

Van put his hand on your arm. “Love, you’re fucking freezing!”

Before you even had time to refuse, Van pulled his hoodie off and put it over your head. You wriggled out of your t-shirt from underneath, and pulled your knees under the cosy jumper. It was still warm from when Van had been wearing it.

You noticed more and more about the boys after you’d warmed up a bit. Van was now wearing a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and used his bare arms as an excuse to sit closer to you, “as you’ve nicked my jumper”. He told you about his band, after you asked about the handwritten lyric sheets strewn across the floor of what you presumed was his bedroom, although the room was tiny.

“Bet your band’s shit,” you teased, Larry joining in.

“Yeah it’s well crap, only sold two tickets and that was to my brother and his mate,” Larry laughed, “And their songs are shite.”

“They’re not!” Van protested, his voice going an octave higher, “Look, I’ll play one to you right now!”

“Go on then, Julian Casablancas.” you retorted.

“Fine, okay, this one’s called ASA-”

“Not that one, it’s proper shit!” Larry objected, “It’s about meeting up to have sex with Ab-”

“Shut the fuck up, Larry.” Van almost growled.

“Who’s Abbie?” you asked, curiously, “Friends with benefits?”

“No!” Van confirmed, “An ex-girlfriend.”

“Basically, all the songs he’s ever written are about her.” Larry whispered in your ear.

“Well, I guess he has someone new to write a song about now.” you said, looking Van in the eyes.

“I guess I do.”

--

The next day, you saw Van helping his parents at breakfast, and he handed you a screwed up piece of paper when he served you. You placed it in your pocket, and, after you’d finished, ran straight up to your room to read it.

Beach, 20 mins, the note read, in scrawled handwriting.

You got dressed hastily, throwing on your black denim skirt, with fishnets underneath, and Van’s hoodie. You told your mum you’d made a friend and could you spend the day with them, so she and Steve could have some alone time. Steve almost looked relieved, nodding his head, and your mum seemed too occupied in reading her Facebook messages to acknowledge the information. 

You took it as a yes.

Just as you put your boots on, Mary appeared from the kitchen.

“Hi, love, where are you off to? Ooh, I like your jumper, our Van has one exactly like that, doesn’t he, Bern?” 

“Just the beach, I’m meeting a friend there for some lunch-”

Bernie appeared from behind her, and patted you on the shoulder reassuringly, “Have fun, love.”

You weren’t too sure if you knew the way to the beach, but you followed the family in front of you and, luckily, they were going there too. You found Van, sitting on the wall separating the gift shops from the sand, acoustic guitar on his lap.

“That’s my fuckin’ jumper!” he greeted you enthusiastically, jumping off the wall to hug you. 

You smiled, pulling the note out of your pocket, “So, explain this.”

Van sat himself back down on the wall.

“Well, I needed a new girl to write a song about, and you were a good excuse.” he smiled, cheekily.

He brushed your blonde fringe out of your eyes.

“Your eyes are well-blue y’know,” he said, dreamily, “like, I dunno, they’re quite delicate, but also brave, like the sea or summit-”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, although your heart felt warm.

“And your hair, I love it,” he continued, “it’s just you. Messy, windswept, but warm and kind - I like the colour.” “My hair isn’t naturally blonde, you know.” you replied quietly, staring at his lips.

He leaned in closer, so your foreheads were almost touching.

“And you have freckles-”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you muttered, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss was a million fireworks, tender yet exciting, lighting up a fire inside your chest that you’d forgotten existed.

As you pulled away, you noticed Van smirking, a glint in his eye.

“That was part of the plan, wasn’t it!” You squealed, outraged, “Compliment her till she kisses you!”

“No!” he replied, his voice once again getting higher in volume and pitch, “I was gonna sing to you first.”

He grabbed your hand, helping you up onto the wall. He strummed the first chord of the song.

I can tell by your grin That you're lying through your fringe again This talk is getting us nowhere Let's set sail for nowhere It was just one night And it was just one time And you looked amazing From what I was taking Keep breathing, keep breathing Settle down in your home It's only rainfall Keep breathing, keep breathing Settle down in your home It's only rainfall You know it's only rainfall

As he strummed the last chord of the somewhat short song, you smiled.

“It’s not finished yet-” 

“Shhh, it was perfect.” you whispered.

“But when exactly did I lie?” you asked, more loudly.

Van chuckled.

“When you said you got lost. Your room’s on the first floor.”

[imagine-hs]

An English Gentleman! - Part 1

The outfit just inspired me and before I knew it, it became something I didn’t intend, but something I’m excited to see how it’ll turn out.

Enjoy this first part of what will surely be an intriguing and action filled short story 😉

Word count: 1372

Warnings: None yet, just meeting cute.

The smell of rain on hot pavement hit your nose the moment you stepped out of the house. A chill ran up your naked arms and you considered going back inside and grabbing a jacket. Yesterday’s thunderstorm had really cooled the air down. After a few seconds you decided to stick it out though. Work would be warm, if not hot, after all and the walk there wasn’t all that long.

As you walked with a bit of a bounce in your step, courtesy of the upbeat music in your ears, you looked around the little town you had called home for about twenty somewhat years now. You knew the streets and houses like the palm of your hand. There was the corner where you had hit a boy over the head in second grade, because he had tried to kiss you. That street there you and your girlfriends had stumbled down after your first alcoholic party. It all was familiar.

Most of the time it was a hugging feeling, but now that you were so close to finishing school and heading off into the world hopefully, it was a suffocating one. You didn’t know anything other than this place. You hadn’t had much money growing up, so holiday trips had usually just taken you deeper into the country. Once you had visited London and it had overwhelmed you. So the thought of finally leaving this place was both exhilarating and terrifying. What if you couldn’t manage? What if you failed? Everyone would know and they wouldn’t be quiet about it.

With a wave of your hand you pushed those thoughts aside. For one it was way too early to think about that. Secondly, you’d worry about it when it came to that. For now you would just take one step at a time.

With all this thinking your way to work had felt even shorter than usual and before you knew it you were standing in front of your local fish and chips shop.

You and your boss got the place ready just in time for the usual lunch rush. You had propped the door open so the smell of fried fish and poatoes would pull people in... besides the fact that it cooled down the place.

You knew most of the customers. Very rarely someone from out of town found their way to this place. It wasn’t exactly famous or anything. With a smile and a cheery attitude you chatted with the locals, about pets, children and work.

“I’m always so glad when you’re here, love, you’re much nicer than that other girl.”, Dolores, an elderly woman who owned the grocery store next door, told you, while she waited for her order.

You laughed. “Thank you, Dolores. But Gina is still new, you have to give her a chance.”

The other woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah.”

You grinned. This job wasn’t the worst thing. It sure wasn’t something you wanted to do the rest of your life, but to finance Uni it was pretty good.

“Leave the girl alone, Lor, she’s trying to work.”, Dolores’ friend Abigail, owner of the flower shop across the street, yelled through the shop.

These two came in every day and were a joy to watch, mostly because they always argued about something. Today it was you apparantely.

“I’m being nice. Do you think she doesn’t have time for me to be nice to her?”, Dolores argued.

“Not if it means taking down her co-worker in the process, no.”, Abigail gave back.

This bickering went back and forth until they were both done with their lunches. Then they left arm in arm and usually after leaving a pretty big tip.

At some point during the rush the entrance door had closed, which explained the sweat drops running down your temples. You were about to run over and open the door for the ladies - and to prop it open again - when it swung open from the outside.

“Thank you, young man.”, Dolores cheered.

You frowned. Young man? Not that there weren’t a lot of young men in this town, most of which you knew and had even gone to school with, but none of them would hold the door open for those two. The ladies weren’t all that nice to boys and men in this town, because ‘they always cause trouble and leave it for us women to clean up’, or so they said. Which was why your interest was peaked at the arrival of this polite young man.

The first thing you saw of the new arrival was a beige sneaker with red and green stripes and a green sock. That in and of itself would have been enough to tell you that this guy was clearly from out of town. No one around here, male nor female, had a style like that, nor would their shoes ever be this clean. But that wasn’t the end. The shoes were followed by a pair of legs stuck in a lovely greyish pair of suit pants, topped by an upper body dressed in a vest and jacket to go along with the pants, a nice light blue shirt and a navy tie with crimson stripes and... was that a blanket? It sure looked like the stranger had a massive blanket around his shoulders held in shades of green and beige and black with a stitched in orange cat at the bottom and fringes. Maybe it was meant to be a scarf? You had no idea. The suit alone was fancier than anything you had ever seen around here... and definitely a bit over the top for a quick visit to your local chappy. Not even the bankers from that office two streets over dressed like this.

The outfit alone though would have been enough for a girl to loose her mind and quite some sleep over, but what stunned you into immobility and made your lips form a perfect ‘O’ was the head attached to that well-dressed body. A jawline and cheekbones carved surely by one of the old masters. Raspberry lips curved perfectly, with a lower lip that was a bit fuller and entirely made for some biting. Bright emerald eyes framed by long black lashes and topped by finely tweezed eyebrows. And then there was the hair. Styled to a T, looking like someone had put the softest chocolate mousse to graze this earth on top of that young man’s head. It just asked you to run your fingers through it.

The entire shop stared at the newcomer, like he wasn’t just from out of town, but from an entirely different planet. You wondered if that was how all the men in London dressed, because if so you could not WAIT to go there for work.

“Hello.”, he said, with a voice like caramel on sandpaper.

You gulped. “Hey there. What can I get you?”

Had that actually been your mouth that had just spoken those words? You couldn’t believe it. You had been sure nothing would have been able to leave your dry throat and stunned lips.

The stranger smiled, showing a row of perfect, white teeth. He ordered, but it took a moment for the words to register in your mind and another few seconds for you to understand them. The young man’s smile turned a bit lopsided and he finally seemed to realise that everyone was staring at him.

“Did I do something wrong?”, he asked, with an accent that wasn’t exactly posh. You couldn’t place it at the moment.

You chuckled and shook your head. “No, it’s just... you’re not from around here, are you?”, you asked, finding your feet and hands going through the motions without much of your aware hand in the matter.

He grinned. “Is it that obvious?” He spread out his arms, stretching the blanket - scarf?- out behind him like a cape.

You laughed. “Just a bit. The highest fashion we get around here is Aunt Louise’s fashion show.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It’s for her cats.”

“Oh.”, he scratched his neck, “I see.”

Slowly everyone went back to their own conversations and their food, though surely keeping an ear on the stranger and you.

“So what brings you to town?”, you asked, getting out that small talk attitude.

“Just traveling through. I’m on my way back to London after a weekend in the countryside.”

You nodded. You could just see the mansion made from stone, that a guy like him probably had out in the country, where he could sit in his massive library and read all day with a pair of glasses on his nose, that he didn’t necessarily need, but looked stylish and cost more than your entire wardrobe.

“So do you hunt?”, you questioned, taking the fish from the fryer.

He quirked an eyebrow. “No. Why? Do I look like a hunter?”

You shrugged. “You look like someone who doesn’t have enough to do in his life, so he needs a hobby.”

Despite your words coming out way more biased than you had intended, the guy laughed.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t need to fill my time with weird hobbies. And even though my country house is by the sea I also don’t fish.”, he explained, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“I see. So what do you work?”, you took your time salting the fries.

“I’m a singer.”, he told you, watching closely for your reaction.

Your eyes widened. “Really? You must be fairly successful then.”

“You could say that. I’m also an English Gentleman.”, he added.

You frowned. “What does that mean?”, you asked, handing him his order.

He smiled and waved it off. “Not important. Thank you.”

He took it, handed you a crackling pound note and went outside, to eat his food leaning against the window sill.

You stared at him for a while. What a strange guy. What did he mean by being ‘an english gentleman’? Did men need to say that these days? Or was he just super proud of being polite? He was a mystery and if there was one thing you truly loved it was mysteries... especially if they came in the form of handsome strangers.

Finally you looked at the note in your hand and gave a small squeak. Quickly you opened the register and took out the change, then practically ran out the door. He was still leaning there, watching some kids play with a football in the street. A grey-white dog was attached to his arm by a leach. He looked adorable and you really wanted to lean down and pet him, but business first.

“Um, sir, excuse me, but you forgot your change.”, you stuttered.

He turned his eyes to you and your knees started to shake. Man, this guy had a really strange effect on you. He smiled again.

“Oh no, that’s for you.”

Your eyes widened. “I can’t accept that. That is way too much.”

He shrugged, balling up the paper in which his food had been. Wow, he was a quick eater. Your eyes went to the dog, who was looking at you with his head tilted to the side, but you were certain you could see some crumbs around his snout. So maybe the handsome stranger had shared his food. Sweet.

“No, it’s not. You’re going to need that, if you are serious about London. Are you?”

His eyes bore into you and you knew you couldn’t lie to him, no matter how little you knew him.

“Y-yes, I am, but-”

“Then take it. I’ll see you soon.”, he was walking, with his dog, toward a white Mercedes cabriolet. “Oh and the food is excellent.”, he called over his shoulder, before picking up the dog and putting it in a cage in the backseat and getting into the car himself.

You stared after him, as he drove off, wondering what the hell had just happened.