redhope446

[redhope446]

Anchored Desire- Two

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Synopsis: Things between you and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw are heating up fast. His endless flirting and the tension between you both finally come to a head, and resisting him isn’t as easy as you thought.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, teasing, kissing, messy feelings.

~~~

The days felt longer at sea, the horizon stretching endlessly into shades of blue and grey. You stayed busy—interviewing pilots, jotting notes, and trying to capture the heart of life aboard the ship—but no matter how focused you tried to be, Bradley Bradshaw was always there. Whether it was a lingering glance in the mess hall or a teasing comment that left your cheeks burning, he was impossible to ignore.

It was late when you stepped out onto the deck, the ocean breeze tugging at your hair. The stars overhead were impossibly bright, scattered across the dark sky in patterns you couldn’t quite name. You rested your arms on the railing, letting the salty air fill your lungs as the steady sound of the waves eased some of the tension knotted in your chest.

“You’ve got to stop making this so easy for me,” came that familiar voice from behind.

You sighed, already bracing yourself, and turned to see Rooster leaning casually against the doorway. His flight suit was undone just enough to reveal the grey undershirt beneath, and the way his arms were crossed over his chest made it all too clear he’d caught you mid-thought.

“Making what easy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Finding you,” he replied with a crooked grin, stepping closer. “It’s like you want me to follow you out here.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though you didn’t move as he stopped just a foot away.

“And yet, here you are,” he shot back, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilted his head, studying you the way he always did—like you were a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve. “What’s on your mind?”

You turned back to the water, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Too late for that,” he said softly, moving to stand beside you. His ardefencesd yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. “Come on. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes but kept your gaze on the horizon. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do,” he answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you hesitated. He had a way of cutting through your defenses, and tonight was no different.

“Fine,” you said finally. “This assignment is a lot. The pressure, the people, the… everything. It’s exhausting.”

Rooster nodded, his expression softer now. “I get that. Life out here can be… overwhelming.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You don’t seem overwhelmed.”

“That’s because I’ve had years to get used to it,” he said with a small smile. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it sometimes. Especially when you’re stuck in your head.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued before you could.

“Look,” he said, turning to face you fully. “You don’t have to do this alone. I know you’re tough, but it’s okay to lean on someone now and then.”

The intensity in his gaze made it hard to breathe. “And let me guess,” you said, trying to break the tension, “that someone is you?”

“Obviously,” he said, flashing that signature grin.

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when I see something worth fighting for,” he said simply, and the teasing edge in his voice was gone.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The ship rocked gently beneath you, but all you could feel was the warmth radiating from him, the way his eyes held yours like they were daring you to look away.

“You don’t play fair,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible over the waves.

“Never said I did,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand brushed yours on the railing, his touch warm and steady. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But you didn’t tell him to stop.

Instead, you turned toward him, and before you could second-guess yourself, his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft at first, testing, but when you leaned into him, it deepened. The world around you faded, the only thing grounding you was the feel of his hands, his warmth, and the unspoken promise between you.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “You’re full of surprises,” he said, his voice low and full of admiration.

“So are you,” you replied, breathless.

For once, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t have a quick comeback. He just smiled, his hand lingering on your waist as the two of you stood there under the stars, the waves crashing softly below.

When you turned back to him, his hand was already on your waist, firm and steady like it had always belonged there. His eyes searched yours, dark and serious in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Say the word,” he murmured, his voice low as if he didn’t trust himself to speak any louder.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you closed the small gap between you, your lips crashing into his like a wave meeting the shore. There was no hesitation this time, no testing or holding back. Rooster’s hand tightened on your waist, the other slipping up to cradle your jaw, his fingers threading into your hair as he kissed you deeper.

He tasted faintly of salt and something warm and distinctly him, and it was intoxicating. Your hands gripped his flight suit, tugging him closer as if the space between you was unbearable. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you that made your knees weaken.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he said between kisses, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Dangerous?” you managed, your voice breathless and barely steady.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that—not with words, anyway. So, you kissed him again, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck. This time, he pressed you back against the railing, his body flush against yours as the tension between you ignited into something you couldn’t control.

His kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, and the world seemed to fall away entirely. The ship rocked gently beneath you, the ocean was vast and endless around you, but none of it mattered. All you could feel was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, his eyes stayed locked on yours. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch so gentle it was almost at odds with the intensity of the moment.

“You’re trouble,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile that made your heart stutter.

“You started it,” you shot back, your voice shaky but full of affection.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning in to press another quick, lingering kiss to your lips. “And I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you let your hands trail down his chest. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

His words settled over you, warm and heavy, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to push him away or deflect with sarcasm. Instead, you let yourself lean into him, your cheek brushing against his as you both stood there, tangled up in each other under the endless expanse of stars.

Whatever this was—whatever it was becoming—you didn’t want it to end. And from the way Rooster pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he meant to keep you there, you had a feeling he felt the same.

[redhope446]

Insufferable

Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes Fanfic

Synopsis: You're arguing with Bucky about your relationship and what you've been doing until he can't take it anymore.

Warning: Kissing, arguing, tension, age gap (FL 19 x ML 33), fuck it scene

~~~

The rain was relentless, falling in thick sheets that soaked through my jacket and clung to my skin, cold and biting. I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, the squelch of water beneath my boots barely registering as I walked. I didn’t stop moving. The further I got from him, the better—at least, that’s what I told myself.

Bucky Barnes had this infuriating way of making you feel seen—like he could peel back every layer you built to protect yourself without even trying. He had this calm, steady presence, but it was always laced with a quiet intensity that made my stomach twist. I didn’t need that, not from him.

“Sylvie.”

His voice cut through the steady patter of the rain, smooth and commanding—always so assured, like he had a right to every part of me. I ignored him, shaking off how his name rolled off his tongue like he owned it. My boots splashed through a puddle as I rounded the corner.

But he didn’t stop. I could hear his footsteps quicken behind me—deliberate but silent. Then, there he was, stepping into my path, blocking me. He didn’t touch me—he never did—but the way he loomed, all broad shoulders and quiet intensity, made it impossible to pretend he wasn’t there.

“What do you want, Barnes?” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest, irritation rising. I hated how young I must’ve looked next to him—soaked through, shivering, barely holding it together.

“To talk,” he said simply, his tone maddeningly calm.

“Talk?” I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “What are you, my babysitter now? Last I checked, I’m not some kid you need to keep in line.”

His jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought I’d gotten under his skin. But then he took a step closer, his steel-blue eyes locking onto mine with that intense focus that always made my chest feel tight.

“You’re not a kid,” he said quietly, though his tone carried an edge. “But you sure as hell act like one with the stunts you’ve been pulling.”

My teeth clenched, heat rising to my face despite the cold rain. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Don’t I?” he shot back, his voice low and rough. “I’ve been watching you run yourself into the ground for months, Sylvie. You’re reckless. Stupidly so. And one day, it’s going to get you killed.”

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up. “I’ve been taking care of myself just fine without your input, thanks.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound making my skin prickle. “Fine? Charging headfirst into every fight like you’re invincible? You’re nineteen, Sylvie. You’ve got no idea what you’re up against.”

The words hit harder than I wanted them to. I hated how he said my age, like it was some weapon to wield against me—proof that I didn’t belong here.

“And you’re what? Thirty-three?” I shot back, my voice biting. “Is this where you lecture me about how much more life experience you have? About how I’m just some naive little girl who should stay out of your way?”

His expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he took another step closer. The air between us crackled with tension. I wanted to step back, but my body refused.

“I don’t think you’re naive,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “I think you’re too damn smart for your own good. But smart doesn’t mean invincible. And I’m not going to stand by and watch you get yourself killed because you’re too stubborn to listen to anyone.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling uncomfortably in my chest. “You don’t get to tell me how to fight. You’re not my—”

“Your what?” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “Your partner? Your ally? I’m sure as hell not your enemy, Sylvie. So what does that make me?”

I didn’t have an answer for him, and he knew it. His gaze softened slightly, just enough to make me want to look away but not enough to let me.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ve got something to prove?” he asked, his voice rougher now. “Like every fight is a chance to show the world you’re more than what they see? I’ve been where you are, kid. And I’m telling you, it’s not worth it.”

“I’m not a kid,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound firm.

“You’re nineteen,” he repeated, softer now—almost like it hurt him to say it. “You’ve got your whole damn life ahead of you, Sylvie. Don’t throw it away trying to prove a point.”

The rain continued to pour, drenching us both, but it faded into the background. All I could focus on was him—his presence, his words, his eyes. My frustration boiled over, and I clenched my fists at my sides.

“I don’t need your protection,” I said finally, my voice steadier now but no less firm.

“Oh yes you do,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine.

I took a step forward, feeling the heat rise in my chest. “You don’t get to talk to me like that! You’re not—”

“What?” His voice was steady, unrelenting. “Not old enough to give you advice? Not experienced enough to know what you’re up against? You think I haven’t been there? You think I haven’t made mistakes? I’m trying to help you before you end up in the same place I did—”

His voice softened slightly, but it still cut through the tension between us. We stood there, looking into each other’s eyes, breathing hard, neither of us backing down. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the frustration and heat bubbling between us.

I took another step forward, closing the distance between us. My eyes dragged down to his lips before I could stop myself. But his voice cut through me—low, firm, impossible to ignore.

“We can’t.”

The words hit me like a slap. I pulled back slightly, my chest tightening with frustration and confusion.

“Why not?” I whispered, my heart pounding.

His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away for a moment before locking back onto mine. “Because I’m… twice your age, Sylvie. This isn’t—”

His brows furrowed, and for a brief second, I thought he might argue again. But something in his expression shifted—something darker, more intense. He reached out, his hand gripping my wrist firmly but not rough, enough to ground me to him.

“Sylvie,” he murmured, his voice low but trembling. "You know we can't."

I felt humiliated. Was this his way of letting me down? I turned to walk away, too embarrassed to look him in the face. I thought he wanted it too. Maybe he couldn’t feel it. Maybe it was never there.

The rain still fell around us, cold and relentless, but now it felt distant—like the world had narrowed to just the two of us. I shouldn’t have been here—shouldn’t have allowed myself to feel anything for him. But despite the chill, my body burned where he stood close, where his hand still held my wrist, grounding me to him.

His grip tightened slightly, just enough to keep me from pulling away, but he didn’t push me. His gaze locked on mine, unwavering and intense. For a moment, I thought he might back down, might once again say we couldn’t—shouldn’t—be here. But something in his expression shifted. A mix of frustration, resolve, and something I couldn’t quite name.

Then I heard it: “Fuck it.”

The words came out low, gravelly, almost desperate. Before I could process what he meant, Bucky reached out, his hand gripping my wrist more firmly, pulling me into him until the space between us disappeared.

I stumbled slightly, my heart pounding as he closed the distance between us. His body heat seeped through the rain-soaked layers of clothing, making the air between us feel electric. The smell of rain and his cologne mixed, blurring everything but the sensation of his touch.

“I…” His voice was a whisper now, husky, like he was fighting it, too. His fingers grazed the skin of my wrist before slowly trailing up, brushing along my arm. “We shouldn’t…”

But then his lips were on mine—soft at first, hesitant, almost reverent—but it quickly ignited into something more. A fire that consumed us both, driven by something neither of us could ignore anymore. His mouth moved against mine with purpose, fierce and demanding, and I couldn’t help but respond in kind.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, fingers tangling into the wet strands of my hair. I pressed myself against him, the heat of his body soaking into mine, his touch claiming and impossible to resist.

We stood there—two people caught in a moment neither could escape, even if we wanted to. The rain fell harder, but it no longer mattered. All that existed was him, his warmth, his taste, his hands sliding lower to grip my waist, pulling me closer.

[redhope446]

Hi everyone! Thought I’d write a short description about me so we can know each other better.

I’m 19 and from Australia, though I dream of living in London or New York one day. I love reading and writing, and my favorite book series is Twisted by Ana Huang. I’m also new to Tumblr and still figuring out how it works, but I’m excited to connect and share my journey!

[redhope446]

Anchored Desire- One

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Synopsis: You joined a naval crew to write a story, but Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is making it impossible to focus. His cocky charm and constant flirting have the tension between you both building, and you’re not sure how much longer you can resist.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, kissing

~~~

The sharp scent of salt filled the air as the Pacific Ocean stretched before you. You leaned against the ship’s railing, the wind tugging at your hair as you watched the sun melt into the horizon. The golden-orange hues painted across the water were beautiful, but the gnawing unease in your chest made it hard to fully appreciate the view.

This assignment was supposed to be simple: embed with a naval squadron, write a feature piece about the lives of fighter pilots, and return home with a killer story. You hadn’t expected the chaos of life at sea, the ceaseless motion of the ship, or the crew’s endless energy. And you certainly hadn’t expected Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw.

You’d seen him the moment you boarded. He was impossible to miss—the broad shoulders, the aviator sunglasses, the cocky grin that could disarm anyone in a five-mile radius. He exuded confidence in a way that made it hard not to look at him, even when you told yourself not to. Unfortunately, he seemed to know exactly the effect he had on you.

“Didn’t think you’d last this long,” a familiar, teasing voice cut through your thoughts.

You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, leaning casually against the railing a few feet away. His flight suit was unzipped halfway, revealing the gray undershirt clinging to his chest. His dog tags gleamed in the fading sunlight, drawing your eyes for just a second too long.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you shot back, turning to face him fully.

Rooster smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Just saying, most people who aren’t used to life at sea don’t look as steady as you do right now. Guess I underestimated you.”

“Guess you did,” you replied, lifting your chin slightly. “I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said, taking a step closer. His voice dropped slightly, carrying a hint of something warmer, something that made your pulse quicken. “But you’re new here, and this isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Might help to have someone looking out for you.”

“Let me guess,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering?”

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Just doing my civic duty. Wouldn’t want you falling overboard or anything.”

The ship rocked slightly, and you instinctively reached for the railing to steady yourself. Rooster’s smirk deepened. “Careful there. Starting to think you might need my help after all.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your composure.

“Sure you are,” he said, stepping closer until he was barely a foot away. His gaze lingered on your face, then dropped, just briefly, to your lips. When he met your eyes again, the playful edge was still there, but it was joined by something darker, something that made your stomach flip.

“You always this cocky?” you asked, trying to sound unimpressed, but your voice wavered slightly.

“Only when I’m right,” he replied smoothly. “And I’m pretty good at reading people. For example…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I think you like the attention more than you’re letting on.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His proximity, the low rumble of his voice, and the heat radiating off him left you momentarily speechless.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased, a hint of laughter in his tone.

“Maybe I just don’t think you’re worth responding to,” you finally managed, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed your words.

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, studying you. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

Before you could retort, the ship rocked again, harder this time, and you lost your footing. Rooster’s hands shot out, catching you by the waist and pulling you against him. The impact sent a jolt through your body as you found yourself pressed against his chest.

“You’ve got to stop falling for me,” he said, grinning down at you.

You groaned, your face burning as you tried to pull away. “You’re insufferable.”

“But you’re still here,” he pointed out, his hands lingering on your waist longer than necessary.

“Not by choice,” you muttered, though the way your heart was racing told a different story.

“Whatever you say,” he said, finally letting you go but not stepping back. His eyes searched your face, and for a moment, the teasing grin softened into something more genuine.

The two of you stood there, the tension thick between you as the sun dipped below the horizon. The distant sound of waves crashing against the ship filled the silence, but all you could focus on was the way his gaze lingered on yours.

“Why are you really here?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“You’re good at deflecting,” he said, leaning against the railing again, though he didn’t move far from you. “But you’ve got this look, like there’s more going on under the surface. I’m curious.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. He had a way of cutting through your defenses, and it made you nervous. “Maybe I just like a good story,” you said finally.

“Or maybe you’re looking for something more,” he countered, his gaze steady.

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You didn’t know what to say, and for once, Rooster didn’t fill the silence with a joke or a smirk. He just watched you, his expression unreadable.

The ship rocked again, and this time, you didn’t stumble. But as you gripped the railing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bradley Bradshaw was far more dangerous than you’d given him credit for—and not because of his skills as a pilot.

~~~

Posted Part Two! Decided to continue the story!

[redhope446]

Ground By You

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw Fanfic

Synopsis: Your at a party at the hanger with the rest of the crew. You and Rooster have been enemies since you could remember, but the past few weeks have been different and Rooster could feel it too.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, arguing, enemies to lovers, mention of drinking

The hangar was alive with music and laughter, a haze of cigarette smoke and spilled beer hanging in the air. The kind of party that always sprang up after a long week of training—an unspoken agreement among the squad to blow off steam and forget how high the stakes were just for a few hours.

I leaned against a folding table, the cool metal pressing into my arms as I watched the chaos unfold. Someone had dragged a speaker into the corner, and Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain blared over the chatter. Pilots danced with abandon, the booze loosening their usual sharp-edged precision.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw stood across the room, a beer dangling from his fingers as he laughed at something Jake “Hangman” Seresin had said. His head tipped back, golden-brown hair catching the low light, and his Hawaiian shirt was open just enough to showcase the dog tags resting against his chest. He was magnetic in the way that irritated me the most—effortlessly charming, smug, and too damn good at everything.

He caught me looking.

I turned away quickly, but it was too late. I could feel his gaze linger, and I could hear his boots against the concrete floor as he started toward me.

“Y/N,” his voice carried easily over the noise, smooth and infuriating. “Looking lonely over here.”

I didn’t bother to mask my groan as I turned to face him. “And here I was hoping for some peace.”

“Quiet? At a party? You don’t know how to have fun, do you?” He grinned, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it on the table beside me.

“Fun isn’t your obnoxious commentary, Bradshaw.”

His smile faltered just enough to give me a sliver of satisfaction, but it came back twice as cocky. “You know, for someone so good in the air, you’ve got no sense of humour.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. “Why are you even here? Don’t you have people to charm and drinks to finish?”

“I’m right where I want to be.” His voice dropped slightly, softer but no less maddening.

I rolled my eyes, taking a step away from him, but he followed. “What’s your problem with me, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you want the list alphabetically or by importance?” I snapped, turning to face him fully.

His grin disappeared, his expression hardening. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” I said, my tone biting. “You walk around like you’re untouchable like you can just breeze through life without a care. Some of us don’t have that luxury.”

His eyes narrowed, the playful glint replaced by something darker. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t take this seriously?”

I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. “You hide behind that damn smirk and those stupid sunglasses like it’s all a game.”

He stepped closer, the space between us shrinking. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know enough,” I shot back, my voice rising.

The tension between us crackled, the noise of the party fading into the background. My pulse hammered in my ears as his eyes locked on mine, blazing with a mix of frustration and something I couldn’t quite name.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“And you’re unbearable,” I snapped, pushing past him toward the bathroom.

I didn’t stop until I was inside, the door slamming shut behind me. The quiet was jarring, the muffled music barely seeping through the walls. I leaned against the sink, my hands gripping the edge as I tried to steady my breathing.

The door creaked open, and I didn’t have to look to know it was him.

“Rooster, I swear to God—”

He shut the door, his broad frame blocking the exit. “No. You don’t get to walk away from this.”

I turned to face him, my frustration boiling over. “What do you want from me, Bradshaw? An apology? Validation? I don’t owe you anything.”

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I want you to stop pretending like you don’t feel it.”

The words stopped me cold.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice quieter now, unsteady.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “This. Us. The way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. The way you push me away every time I get too close.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, but no sound came out.

“Just say it,” he pressed, his voice rough. “Tell me you don’t feel anything, and I’ll walk out of here right now.”

I hated him in that moment. Hated how he saw through every defence I’d carefully built. Hated how my heart betrayed me, pounding like it wanted me to close the distance between us.

“I…” The word caught in my throat, and that was all it took.

He closed the space between us in two quick strides, his hands cupping my face as his lips crashed into mine. The kiss was a collision, fiery and desperate, weeks of tension finally snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight.

I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers twisting into his shirt as I pulled him closer. The edge of the sink pressed into my back, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the heat of his body, the way his hands slid down to grip my waist, anchoring me to him.

When we finally broke apart, both of us gasping for air, his forehead rested against mine.

“I hate you,” I whispered, my voice shaky but lacking conviction.

He chuckled, low and breathless. “No, you don’t.”

And damn it, he was right.

[redhope446]

Hiding in the Shower

Crush x Y/N

Before the story begins I would just like to clarify - This is written by me, redhope446. However, I did have inspiration from the 'bathroom scene' in Pretty Little Liars, between Hannah and Caleb.

Synopsis: Y/N walks into the bathroom where her crush is showering to find something, but her mum walks in as well and she must hide in the shower to make sure her crush doesn't get caught.

Warnings: Fluff, nudity, kissing.

“Can you hand me my mascara?”

“I’m in the shower!”

“Can I just come in and grab it?”

“Sure.”

Walking into the bathroom I began to search for my mascara. I swore I left it right here. I didn’t particularly want to be in the bathroom at this time. Considering that the man I have been in love with since I could remember is behind the shower curtain. Completely naked.

“You know, if you guys cleaned this shower head, you could have amazing water pressure.” He said teasingly.

“Y/N? Is my phone in your bathroom?” Sugar.

“I’m in the shower, mum!” I shouted, stalling her as I figured a way out of this one. C/N was not supposed to be here, he wasn’t even allowed in this house after the incident with my parents and his a few months ago. But when his parents kicked him out, I couldn’t just leave him on the streets, right?

I heard the bathroom door handle and scrambled into the shower with C/N. Pushing him against the wall, I threw my hand to his mouth to make sure he wouldn’t spoil this by getting us caught.

“I was halfway to the office before I realized I didn’t have it with me,” Mum muttered.

C/N had a grin on his face and it was growing with every roll of my eyes.

“What is with this charger?” She continued to make conversation with me, completely oblivious to what was happening beside her. “I only have two bars.”

“Mum, I can’t talk right now. I’m getting shampoo in my mouth.” I scowled.

“Okay, alright. See you at dinner.” Finally, she left the bathroom. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

Removing my hand from C/N’s mouth I lowered it to my side.

“Want to share a towel too?” He joked, making the grin on his face grow and my eyes roll again. Slowly, he turned around, prepared to continue his shower.

Without thinking, I let my eyes trail down his backside. Glancing down his shoulders, to his lower back, and slightly further.

I knew he felt me watching but it didn’t fully click in my mind until he spun around and smirked at me. Oh, no. 

He walked towards me, forcing me into the back wall. One hand rested on my hip while the other stayed above my head, against the shower wall. “See something you like, love?” He asked, making a blush form over my cheeks.

Unable to hold eye contact, I focused on my hands lying on his chest. He was soaked from the shower, his hair drenched and placed over his forehead. I had never been so attracted to a man before right now.

“Look at me.”

The dominance in his voice was overwhelming, and I couldn’t not obey him. Meeting his eyes, my lips parted. They were dark and hungry. Almost… starved.

Before I could process what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was soft and gentle to start with. But when he asked for access and I allowed, there was no going back. His tongue fought with mine as if everything he ever wanted was in me. 

It becomes rough and demanding. We’d both lost our patience.

My hands slid behind his neck as he rested on my hips, pulling me closer to him.

The front door slammed closed, and we both pulled back. Separating from each other and finally catching our breaths.

What do we do now?