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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Fact or Fiction

Warnings: non-consent (fingering, toys, anal, vaginal, somniphilia)

This is dark!Ransom and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your publisher has died and now you must deal with new management

Note: This came to me out of no where but it was a ride yall. I wanted to write some somniphilia so get ready for some sleep action. Remember to read the warnings my guys and enjoy yourselves. Another double dick fic day.

Sidenote: it is a bit odd to write smut when your bf is listening to barenaked ladies lol

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was funny how things could change in such a short time. More often, it was tragic. Deep in your gut, you had the feeling this change would be the latter.

You stood in the elevator, counting the floors in dread. A month ago, you felt much differently on your ascent. That was a day full of hope. A young writer on your way to meet THE Harlan Thrombey, manuscript in hand. You’d left even more jubilant than you arrived. He loved it and hadn’t shied away from saying so.

Now he was dead and you feared so too were your hopes of a published book. This day you were to meet with another Thrombey. Ransom Drysdale, his grandson, had inherited the company to the surprise and chagrin of many, including his very own uncle.

You couldn’t disagree with Walt. Everyone, especially him, expected him to take Harlan’s place. But he didn’t and he was gone now, buried in resent and jealousy. None had seen him since the funeral. Or so you heard. The publishing business could be almost as dramatic as its fictions.

Top floor, you stepped out and were surprised to find that Deb, the former grey-haired receptionist, had been replaced with another. Younger, blonder, and more concerned with her cellphone than the ding of the elevator. You walked up to her round desk and waited for her to look up. She didn’t.

You cleared your throat.

“Hello, I have a one o’clock with Mr. Drysdale,” You said. She nodded and giggled at her phone. “Excuse me…” You looked around and found a rose gold name placard. “...Selina.”

“Fine, go on,” She shrugged. “No one’s in there. Knock first.”

You sighed and glanced around. There were a few editors you recognized from before and they peered over at the receptionist with open detest. You passed her perch and wove between the desks. You assumed, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer from the oblivious blonde, that Ransom had claimed his grandfather’s former office. The letters printed across the clear glass door assured you. That was new too.

You knocked on the frame, afraid to shatter the door. Ransom was squinting at his monitor and didn’t even look over as he waved you on and called to you.

“Come in.” He shook his head as he huffed at the screen. You entered nervously. “What is it this time?”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You greeted, “I’m here for our appointment.”

His brows drew together as he looked up. He hit a key and turned to you. He sat back in his leather chair as he leaned on the arm.

“Uh, yeah,” He blinked as he lazily reached over and grabbed a manuscript from the pile atop his desk. “Laura?”

You corrected him and he fished out the proper print and sat up. He opened it but didn’t even pretend to read a single word on the page. He smiled as he shifted closer to his desk.

“Close the door,” He said. “Sit. This shouldn’t take long.”

That didn’t sound good. You did as he said and took the stiff seat across from him. The former cozy leather had been replaced with cold acrylic. He tapped his fingers on the pages and ran his tongue beneath his bottom lip.

“Well, seeing as we’re doing a bit of redecorating around here, we decided to do the same with our writers. Streamline, prioritize,” He began. “My grandfather was a smart man, talented author, but he valued ‘style’ too much over ‘marketability’.”

Your chest tightened and you tried not to show your discomfort.

“Of course,” You said. “It makes sense. New owner, new directions. I understand.”

“Oh, great,” He smirked. “Then you also understand that the contract my grandfather, god rest his soul, promised you, must be reviewed before we go through with the signing?”

“Review?” You frowned.

“It’s the same for all our new writers,” He assured you. “My editors are combing over every word of your manuscript before we throw the ledger across the table.”

“He already read my manuscript, your editors too. I don’t--”

“He’s dead and most of his editors are gone or have taken on new responsibilities,” He interjected. “As you said, new directions.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “And so when will I be informed of the results of this review?”

He tilted his head, amused by your tone as he leaned back once more. He grabbed a pen and tapped it on his lip as he thought.

“Couple weeks.” He said.

“A couple weeks? I’ve already waited over a month for a contract. Now I get the circumstances required it, as tragic as they were, but with all due respect, your offer isn’t the only one I have on this manuscript.” You argued.

“Lesser publishers, no doubt, but you understand that under our submissions guidelines, you cannot accept an exterior deal until we have made an official decision.” He countered. “So, you can wait the three weeks before you march down to Penguin or whatever lowbrow manufacturer you’ve been talking with.”

You stared at him. He was very much unlike his grandfather. Harlan, for all his accomplishments, had an air of humility. Ransom, for all he hadn’t achieved, was entirely arrogant.

“So, you’re holding my book hostage?” You asked.

“I’m allowing you an opportunity provided you have patience,” He returned. “I could say no right now and send you out without a hope of ever signing with us.”

The curve of his lips irked you, along with the loose weave of his sweater. He didn’t dress like the owner of a publishing house; he dressed like a spoiled frat boy. You were quiet as you thought about the much lower offer from Charter books. Modest but respectable. And there were many companies who you had yet to approach.

You stood suddenly and marched over to his desk. You reached over and slid your manuscript across the desk and closed it. You gathered it up and tucked it under your arm.

“I’ll take the no over your games, Mr. Drysdale.” You said as your heart beat wildly. This was either a moment you’d deeply regret or gloriously relive. “I hardly see how sitting on a stack of books will help your profitability.”

He blinked and his smirk fell. Then he scoffed and tossed his pen down.

“Well, you sure are saving me a lot of work,” He mused. “One less pile of kindling hanging around will save my editors hours.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You said as you backed away from him “I may not have inherited an empire but I think I can see as clear as any that you are out of your depth behind that desk.”

A glimmer of anger broke through his facade and his jaw ticked. He was quick to reclaim his maddening smirk and he shrugged.

“You’re right,” He remarked. “You’re just a writer. Unpublished, at that.”

You nodded and swallowed the insult. You spun and swept back through the door, certain to leave it open. You strode past the reception as she watched some Insta story on a new eye shadow palette. Even Harlan’s name couldn’t atone for buffoonery.

🖊️

Charter Books wasn’t far from Blood Like Wine Publishing. For the second time that week, you were in the heart of the business district. You were tired of waiting. If Charter wanted to publish your work without fanfare, you would take it over waiting on a whim.

Charles Halford was expecting you and as was your habit, you were early. The building didn’t bring you the same joy as Blood Like Wine had, though now that you thought of it, any such optimism had disappeared. You would settle and hope that this was a back road to a mighty second book. If your luck was to take an upturn, it might even be a sleeper hit.

You were directed to sit along the small line of chairs outside Halford’s office. You balanced your manuscript on your knee as you waited. You fidgeted impatiently and hoped the offer was still open. The email had seemed hopeful and that a meeting was scheduled on such short notice was heartening.

You looked up as the door finally opened. Your heart dropped at the man who stepped out. Ransom’s eyes caught yours as he turned back to Halford and tossed some quip at him. His forced laughter turned your stomach. The men were chummy; too chummy. Was this foreshadowing?

“Anyway, I should get back to it,” Ransom announced. “Figured I’d swing by. Get a few pointers.”

“I’m sure you’ll be back for more,” Charles boomed. “Remember, left to right.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and shook Halford’s hand. He turned and winked at you as he left, a cheery farewell to the receptionist. Halford perked up as he noticed you and distracted you from the unease that bubbled in your stomach.

“Early as always,” He said. “Come on in. We’ll get started.”

“Thanks,” You stood and he gestured you ahead of him.

You entered his office and waited for him to sit before you did. He dug around for his copy of your manuscript and turned back to you. He didn’t open it as he plopped it on his desk.

“So, you’re still looking for a buyer, huh?” He asked.

“Well, you know there’s so many options,” You said. “I wanted to go somewhere my book fits.”

“Of course, and it’s a great concept,” He replied. “Really… but…”

“But…” You took a breath.

“Well, you know, we’ve had time to think too and we’re more akin to easy reads. Our clientele, they want something simple, straightforward. You have clever prose and intricate devices but… well, that’s not really who we’re selling to.”

“I don’t understand,” You said. “What changed? You made an offer and suddenly it’s just… gone?”

“Look, there’s lot of publishers out there who would be a better match I’m sure and in this era, self-publishing is growing.”

“A publishing house suggesting self-publishing?” You shook your head and stood. You were numb. “I can read between the lines as well as you can, Mr. Halford. Thank you for considering me. I won’t waste your time if you’ve made up your mind.”

“Hey,” He rose and reached across the desk. “There’s always the next book. Maybe one day, we’ll have a chance to work together.”

“I hope so,” You said as you swallowed the bitterness. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out this time,” He said.

“It’s… business.” You sniffed. “I get it.”

🖊️

Charter, Storey, Hackett. Every no made the prospect of a yes even less likely. Your future stared back at you with paid online articles and ridiculous blurbs. It was a living, a meagre one, but it wasn’t your dream. It was starting to seem like a nightmare.

Another rejection and you were ready to burn the damn manuscript. You marched into the lobby that fronted Lucian LLC. You just wanted to go home but if you did that, you’d just sit and sulk as you had for days before. So instead you followed the scent of roasted beans into the coffee shop along the east side of the lobby.

You ordered a skinny latte and found a table in the corner. You dropped the heavy print on the table before you set down your stemmed mug and flopped onto the chair. You leaned your elbows on the table and rubbed your forehead. A cup clinked across from yours and you sat up, startled by the figure before you.

“Long day?” Ransom asked.

You looked around confused.

“What?” You replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was walking by actually and I saw you through the window. Almost didn’t recognize you but… you look… tired.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes. “And I saw that manuscript in front of you and thought maybe we could have another chat.”

“I don’t want to talk about you reviewing my book until you decide you don’t want it,” You hissed.

“Okay, well, what if I told you we could have a yes or no by the end of our discussion, hmm?”

You squinted at him and ran your fingertips down the side of the hot mug.

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeated coyly.

“What changed your mind?”

“Look, can I help it that I feel a little bad about how it all turned out? Seeing you here, sulking, it really got to me.” He feigned pity.

“I wasn’t sulking,” You insisted. “I was taking a breather between all my meetings. There’s a lot of interest over my book.”

“Is there?” He pulled out the chair opposite you and sat. “Because I made a few calls and I’m pretty sure there isn’t.”

“You what?”

“A lot of people don’t wanna snatch a book out from under the Thrombey stamp,” He explained. “And as far as I’m concerned, we didn’t finish our negotiations.”

You chewed the inside of your lip and considered him. There was a twinkle in his eye. This man would make himself the bane of your existence until he could declare himself the victor. As it was, he might actually be the only prospect you had left.

“Fine. I guess I’m here already. If you want to talk, let’s talk,” You said.

His eyes sparked as they had back in his office.

“Alright,” He began tersely, “May I?”

He pointed to your manuscript and you slowly slid it over to him. He turned it and opened it. He bent over it dramatically as he read. You waited as he glossed over a few pages and sat up.

“Promising. I said so to the editors but you understand that it’s not all up to me.” He said. “It’s not that I don’t wanna publish you, I’m just being cautious. This company is my legacy.”

“It’s your grandfather’s legacy,” You affirmed.

He bit his tongue and blinked. He took a breath before he continued.

“Whatever,” He said. “It is my company now and I have to keep it alive. That means making smart decisions. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m just a writer.” You shrugged.

He sighed and reached for his mug. He dribbled a little down his chin and onto his blazer. He swore as he looked down and set his cup back on the table.

“Could you grab some napkins?” He asked. “Shit.”

“Napkins?” You repeated. You knew he was the type to have help but you were not looking to be his nanny.

“Please,” He said sharply as he held up his wet hand. “If you don’t mind.”

You slid out of your chair and grumbled as you crossed the cafe. You pulled out a dozen serviettes from the dispenser and returned to him. You dropped them on the manuscript and he grabbed them impatiently. He wiped up the coffee and left the napkins crumpled beside his cup.

You lifted your own, the foam entirely flat now, and took a sip. The espresso was strong and your cheek twitched. You set it down as you tried not to cough. The caffeine further addled your nerves.

“So what exactly are you offering?” You asked.

“I went over my grandfather’s notes and spoke with my team. It wasn’t all impractical. We can honour the printing terms but may have to tinker with the numbers…” He began and you nodded.

You listened intently as he went over his points and referred to your manuscript several times, flipping pages back and forth. He suggested a sex scene to liven it up but that didn’t really fit the motif of a medieval mystery set in a monastery. That disagreement didn’t last long as he plowed through his terms.

As you listened, you sipped and your head began to ache from the excess of caffeine. Three coffees a day would do that to you. Your stomach flurried as well and you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. You left the dregs of your latte untouched and touched your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drysdale…”

“Ransom,” He corrected.

“Sorry but… uh, I don’t feel very well.” You said. “I think… I hate to do this but I think maybe we should reschedule.”

“Well, there’s not much else to say. I’m sure you could give me an answer before you race off.” He stood as you did.

You leaned heavily on the table and grabbed your manuscript. You took your bag and groaned.

“Really, I feel… sick.” You said. “I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait,” He followed as you stumbled past him. You weren’t sure what was happening. Maybe it was the leftovers you ate for dinner last night. “You okay?”

“F-fine,” You shook your head to ward off the haze at the edge of your vision. You checked your phone. “Look, I gotta catch the bus.”

“You sure you can handle that?” He was overly concerned for a man who had as good as laughed you out of your office. “I can drive you.”

“Why would you do that?” You stopped just outside the building.

“Because you’re sweating a lot and I think it’d be a lot quicker to drive than to wait around for transit,” He said. “But hey, your call.”

You stared at him and your head pulsed. You touched your forehead and nodded. “S-sure,” You accepted. “Thanks.”

“Hey, we’ll just take it out of your final offer,” He kidded.

🖊️

Ransom

She barely buckled her seat belt before she was out. She slumped in the seat and thumped against the door at the first corner. Ransom hadn’t expected it to take effect so soon but she had downed her latte quickly.

When she got up to grab the napkins, he sprinkled the foam with the powder and quickly sat back. The idea hadn’t occurred to him until he spotted her through the glass. The drugging, that was. The thought of what he would do to her had played over in his mind since their first meeting. He couldn’t just let a writer walk all over him like that. He was in charge now.

He glanced over at her as he pulled up his long drive. She was still out like a light. He had to admit, she wasn’t a great beauty but she had a charm about her. And she was perfect to test out his toys on.

He got out and rounded the car. He opened her door and undid her seatbelt. Her bag and manuscript flopped onto the floor as he lifted her. He closed the door with his foot and carried her up the short walk. She was entirely limp. Completely helpless. He smiled.

He took her to the basement. It had taken more than a year but it was finally ready. Oh and what timing. It was like she was sent to him, just asking for punishment. Her trite little mouth had earned her more than a place on the scholarly blacklist. He had to make sure she paid.

He set her down on the velvet couch and undressed her a piece at a time. He fondled her chest as he bared it and sucked on her nipples just a little. She didn’t move at all. He checked her breathing and carried on.

When she was naked, he played with her cunt. Spread her legs and poked his fingers inside as he looked her over. She was so tight his cock throbbed at the thought of her walls around him.

He lifted her from the couch and carried her to the special contraption he’d designed himself. He laid her over it on her stomach. The angled board had her ass raised and her legs dangling off the end. He secured her wrists and ankles with the straps to keep her from slipping. He wasn’t worried about resistance.

He moved her hips just slightly and reached under her to spread her pussy. He positioned her clit against the little bump beneath the leather. He took the remote in hand and turned the vibe on. The buzz filled the room and he watched her cunt quiver. He dragged his fingers along it and felt her arousal. She came within minutes.

He walked around her as he thought of what to do to her next. He wheeled over the machine in the corner. He carefully lined up the dildo with her pussy. He pushed it inside of her an inch at a time. He made her take all of it; a whole eight inches of rubber. She didn’t flinch though her breath shuddered.

He neared her side and lifted her eyelid. He only saw the white as she remained entirely unaware. He rubbed himself through his jeans and turned the vibe up and hit the button for the machine. The dildo moved in and out of her as the device whirred quietly. Her cunt made wet sounds as she was fucked helplessly.

He went behind her and watched it go in and out. He dialed it up just a little, her body jolting a little from each thrust. He tucked the remote in his pocket and strolled close to her head. He undid his pants and pulled his throbbing dick out. He rubbed it against her lips and smeared his pre-cum around her mouth.

He delved inside as he glanced back to the dildo. He held her head in one hand as his other dove into his pocket and increased the speed yet again. He began to rock his hips and soon kept time with the rubber. He sank so deep into her throat that she choked and her body spasmed. Still she didn’t wake and he could barely stop himself from cumming.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth and a trail of spit dribbled from her lips. He went to the machine and removed it from her glistening cunt. The leather-bound board was soaked with her cum already. It sent a thrill through him and his cock twitched. He growled and turned away as he resisted the urge to fuck her right away.

He went to the chest of drawers and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of lube and clear glass plug. He should start small, he told himself, but he wanted to see her stretch for him. He wanted her to feel him tomorrow.

He crossed to her and squirted the lube between her cheeks. He massaged it over her hole and mixed it with her natural juices. She was so wet he wasn’t sure he even needed the lube. He dipped his fingers inside her pussy a few times before he returned his attention to her ass.

He poked his index finger inside of her. She definitely was unused. He played with her and added another finger and then a third. She quivered as the vibe had her cumming yet again. He peeked up at her to make sure once more that she was still asleep. He didn’t need to be so paranoid. The pills would even have him out for the count.

He pulled his fingers from her ass and positioned the plug against her tight ring. He began slowly, pressing it just until she began to open and then retreating. He paused as he reached to stroke himself. He was so hard it hurt.

He kept on, each time her hole gaped just a little more around the plug. At its widest breadth, he heard a sleepy grumble escape her. He pushed it just a little more and it slipped in all the way. Her ring closed around its stem and he thought he would cum just at that sight.

He shuddered and calmed himself. He grabbed his cock and tapped the tip against the flat end of the plug. He guided it down along her folds and felt the vibration ripple through him as he brushed against the hidden vibe. He angled himself up to her entrance and held himself there.

He wiggled the plug and slammed into her as hard as he could. Her legs jolted and he thrust again with just as much force. He wanted her to feel it, even in her subconscious. He wanted her to suffer. He picked up a rhythm, violent and frantic as her cunt clung to him. She came and he grunted as he fought to restrain his own climax.

He gripped the plug and pulled it out slowly only to press it back in. He did it again and again as he fucked her. His heavy breaths swirled around him as he watched her asshole gape. He was on fire, desperate for release.

He stopped and removed the plug entirely. He held it by the stem and held it against her back as he slipped his cock out of her cunt. He eagerly entered her ass with a rumble. She was still so fucking tight. He lost it. He fucked her so hard, his special toy shook beneath her.

His voice got louder and louder as he every thrust sent a ripple through him. He snarled and pulled out suddenly. He stroked his cock as he rubbed the tip along her ass and spilled himself down her thigh. He would have to wait to cum inside her.

He let out a shaky breath as he let go of his cock. He pushed the plug into her ass again and backed away. He left the vibe on as he paced around the room and cracked his neck. A couple minutes and he’d be ready for another go. Maybe he could cum in her mouth this time. That was easy enough to clean up.

🖊️

You awoke with a start. You sat up on your couch and looked around your empty apartment. You winced as you felt an ache in your ass; your cunt too. You hissed and touched yourself gingerly. You glanced down; you wore the same clothes and there was nothing amiss but the thrum in your core.

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. You could barely remember leaving the cafe but how had you ended up back here? You only remembered the headache and the horrible stomach ache.

You reached for your phone and found several notifications across the lock screen. Foremost was the email from Blood Like Wine Publishing. You opened it and quickly read through it.

‘...I am excited to work with you on your first novel and the company is eager to see this through to its greatest potential.

Hope you feel better and look forward to our meeting next Wednesday,

Ransom Drysdale Editor-in-Chief Blood and Wine Publishing’

You stare at the email in confusion. Had you said yes? Ransom offered you a drive home… then it was all black but you must’ve come to some agreement. You must have found your way into your apartment and passed out on the couch. So why didn’t you remember any of that?

#ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #dark fic #dark!fic #au #fic #one shot

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stxvercgersslut · 4 years ago

Text

Soon to be the four of us

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Note: So I decided to make another part since my first part went well. Please feel free to reblog and like my content if you enjoy it as much as I love writing them. Hopefully I will still continue to write imagines for as long as I physically can. It is nearly my summer holiday so son I will have loads more time to write. If you have any requests please let me know.

Description: Chris and Y/N are unfortunately separated during the events of lock down. All they have is facetime, calls and the occasional text message. Surely nothing could happen. Continuation of surprise

“Morning beautiful, Maisie and I miss you so so much.” Chris’s voice boomed through the small bedroom, in your temporary apartment which just so happened to be in London, as his face popped up on the screen. The wide smile on his face indicated that he was more than excited to see his gorgeous wife. Even if it was just through his iPhone screen, he’d much prefer to be able to actually be able to hold you close right now, but at least he got to see you. From the looks of it Chris seemed to be in the conservatory with your little girl sitting on his lap staring at the screen completely confused with how her mommy got into such a tiny screen since she was babbling and giggling as she tried grabbing the screen. “Morning handsome, and morning princess. I miss you guys too but isn’t it like 5 am in Boston right now? Why are you up already” you asked curiously whilst you stared into the phone screen longing to just wrap your arms around the both of them.

Around two weeks before lock down a huge company had gotten in touch with you through email informing you of a huge opportunity to be the makeup artist for their models. Of course considering that this was the biggest opportunity that you had ever managed to get, you instantly snapped it up. Yes it meant Six weeks away from your family but you couldn’t just say no. But what you hadn’t exactly expected was to get stuck in London this year, or ever actually. But what made it worse was the fact that you were separated from your loved ones, Chris and your 2 year old little girl Maisie. Of course no one could do anything about the situation due to the fact that this was out of everyone’s hands. All anyone could do was just play the waiting game and wait for everything to just die down (Which was highly unlikely given that stupid people still weren’t abiding to the rules and just going out gallivanting despite a deadly virus circling the world.) But you muddled through. Even if you didn’t get to see your family for longer than expected but what could you do? It was just a waiting game now.

Chris laughed softly as he nodded towards the first part of your question, holding Maisie close to his chest before finally speaking “well...yes it’s quite early but this little one wanted to talk to momma early, she hasn’t been sleeping very well since you’ve been gone baby. Plus I really wanted to see your face” he admitted, that wide smile only causing your desire to be back in his arms to worsen.

It was most certainly difficult to be away from the one that you loved so dearly for so long. Especially since Lockdown had literally torn the pair of you apart for what felt like months on end, when in reality it had only been 8 weeks. 8 weeks too long. But what hurt more was that you had no idea when you’d be coming home. Or if you’d ever be able to see your family again at this rate. With Covid killing more people then the average flu each year it was way too hard to tell. But you knew one day you’d see them, it was unfortunately just a matter of waiting it out until something happened.

At some point you’d seemed to zone out everything around you, just focusing on your beautiful little girl sitting on Chris’s lap. Who, as of right that second, was yanking at Chris’s now beard that he has grown out specially for Defending Jacob. Of course your husband was attempting to gently swat her hands away every so often but it didn’t help, she just kept trying. And just the sight of it was enough to make you laugh happily, causing Chris to give you a slightly stern look of confusion since laughing at the situation would just wake it worse. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. Just looking at him made your heart melt, but seeing the scene play out just made you laugh.

“I miss you guys. I just wish that we could be together right now. It’s not fair” you whined, watching as Maisie calmed down and stoped pulling at Chris’s beard.

Chris let out a mighty long loud sigh as he listened to your words. Feeling tears fill in his eyes from how badly he actually seemed to miss you. It had been 8 weeks already and all he longed for was to have you back in his arms yet he couldn’t have that. “We miss you too darling. But I’m sure we’ll be together again soon just us okay? We just have to wait until you are allowed to fly again” he mumbled, still hurt by all of this but he tried not to say anything.

“But in a few months I won’t be able to fly. Baby number two will stop me” the words slipped from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, leaving you and Chris Speechless whilst Maisie giggled in the background. Great yet another surprise pregnancy ruined by your big mouth! Maybe you weren’t so good at keeping thing from Chris.

It was a gruelling 6 minutes later that Chris finally found the strength to speak, still shocked from this sudden revelation. “Baby number two? Y—your pregnant again?...W—hen did you find out?” He asked, tears of joy trickling down his cheeks as he impatiently waited for your reply.

“Yeah......I found out yesterday afternoon before you called....it was supposed to be a surprise yet me and my big mouth ruined it for the second time!” You whined, feeling stupid for not being able to keep it secret.

“Baby....I’m not angry. In fact I’m really happy that you told me”

“You are?”

“Yeah of course I am y/n. Why wouldn’t I be? We wanted another kid anyway.”

“I know but.....I ruined the surprise once again” you stated, still extremely embarrassed by your reveal.

“Well at least this time you didn’t reveal you were pregnant over live television so count yourself lucky we got to have this” he joked, causing the both of you to laugh.

“I love you” you spoke through your happy tears.

“I love you too baby”

Tag list: @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @chuckbass-love @cevans-fics

#chris evans #chris evans cute #chris evans interview #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans x female reader #love #love chris evans #happy #oops #accident #pregnant!reader #pregnancy reveal

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currywaifu · 5 years ago

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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: hidden side 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.4k words

𝐚𝐧: Thank you for the request ♡ Lowkey based off similar experiences from school lol ~♪ I had so many different ideas, but I wanted to write this one for a while so here we go! P.S, happy belated birthday @starryneve :> ♡

Normally he’d be able to withstand not opening his phone every few minutes— he’d always make sure to clear all his AP, LP, SP, BP, whatever P before heading to work. Stamina bonuses were never a problem too, either he’d head to the comfort room or log-in during lunch break.

However, events were simultaneously running right now and he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna rank in the top 1%, no, 0.1%.

Itaru discreetly looked around the office, and as soon as the coast was clear he opened up his desk drawer. His phone was stored inside, his team of expensive waifus auto-battling against the enemies for this event.

They weren’t doing bad at all, but he trusted himself a little more than the AI.

As he went over the best skills to use on the final boss, he heard a knock against the divider separating his desk from his co-workers.

“Code red, Chigasaki-san.” You muttered, volume low enough so only he’d be able to hear you.

Yikes, a red so early in the day? His boss must want something done immediately.

He hastily shut the drawer, sighing in relief that the metal filing cabinet barely made any noise.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully as he watched his boss approach from the corner of his eye, already looking agitated with a word yet to be spoken.

“Chigasaki, I need you to work on a new project,” his boss drawled on with the details; Itaru’s ears somehow being able to pick up on the necessary information despite all the words blurring in his head. Something about a presentation being needed and closing a deal— he’ll just check his email for specifics.

He continued to nod, pretending to absorb everything when in reality he was just looking forward to finishing the battle and getting his rewards.

However, hearing your name halted his movements. As you peaked over from your desk, Itaru could tell even you looked a little caught off-guard at the sudden mention.

“Yes, sir?” you questioned, swiveling your chair to face the two men.

“Since you’ve dealt with GeneSys before, I’m assigning both you and Chigasaki as the heads,” he explained, “there shouldn’t be a problem with this arrangement, right?”

“No, sir,” you replied.

“Not at all. We’ll start on the project as soon as possible,” he sent off his boss with a polite smile as the both of you watched his back disappear.

The silence restored in the room, you let out a quiet laugh to break the tension. “Honestly, thank god I’m partnered with you,” you sighed in relief, before humming thoughtfully “although I might get some envious stares for a couple of days.”

He pursed his lips.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he said, but by the twinkle in your eyes, he could tell you knew he wasn’t being truthful.

Not that he minded. It would be an understatement to say he was pleased you were the one assigned to help him; if he could set a favourite co-worker, it’d probably be you. Not only were you dependable with work, but you didn’t bother him needlessly either. Even so, the two of you weren’t exactly friends, at least not until a month ago.

“Thanks for saving me. If he found out I was using my phone…” he trailed off as you shook your head understandingly.

“It’s fine, Chigasaki-san. After all, you’ve saved me a bunch of times as well,” you reminded him, “so what were you doing this time?”

Oh crap, he probably should get back to the game. He shouldn’t keep his waifus waiting, right?

“Oh, just messaging my troupe mates. They wanted to know what time I’d be home for practice,” he lied, pulling the drawer open and quickly selecting the skills and moves to beat up the final boss.

After collecting his rewards, he saw the little red exclamation point by the bento box icon. Lunchtime stamina bonus time~

“I didn’t realise it was 12 already,” he mentioned off-handedly, missing the way you jolted up for a second before pulling open your file drawer as well.

“Should probably have lunch in a while,” you said, unknowingly opening the same game Itaru was playing. “Want to eat lunch together? I’ll go over my previous experience with GeneSys Tech Corp.”

“Sure. The faster we get this over with, the better.”

‘So I could get back to my games in peace,’ the both of you thought.

Corporate slaves needed more rights. The project wasn’t so difficult that he’d collapse in exhaustion, but he was definitely frustrated with all the demands that needed fulfilling.

Should he game to destress? Ah, but he once he starts he might not be able to stop-

Itaru’s phone screen lit up, and he would have thought it was a game notification if it wasn’t for the ringtone blaring. As soon as he saw your name, he wondered if you somehow picked up on the fact that he was planning on slacking off taking a break.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, voice calm and not at all angry— right, he can strike off the ‘my co-worker has a 6th sense?’ theory. “Sorry to disturb you, just felt like checking in. How’s work going from your side?”

He looked at the graph currently shown on his desktop, already feeling a headache incoming. “Not too bad, could be better,” Itaru answered vaguely, not wanting to give you a bad impression.

He couldn’t figure out whether you believed him or not, the only tell being the hum you let out.

“Same boat, then. Seriously, for a company whose most relevant success is a video game in the 90s…”

Itaru immediately perked up, pressed at the mention of the game. “Right? Then again, what do you expect from them after that total disappointment of a sequel that-“ he suddenly stopped.

If he said any more he totally could’ve been in trouble just there.

“Oh, how’d you know about the video game? GeneSys rebranded themselves a couple years ago, so I didn’t think you’d know about it,” you questioned him, leaving Itaru to scramble for the best excuse he could think of.

Yeah, he’s not about to take the risk and assume you knew the game because you’ve played it before.

“Did some research on the company’s past endeavours,” he began, sounding as nonchalant as he possibly could, “I suppose I got a bit invested.”

That was one way to put it. He still remembered being upset as a teenager that the long-awaited sequel was a total cash-grab.

“Pfft,” you let out a small laugh, and for a moment Itaru felt frantic— did you somehow figure him out? He wouldn’t put it past the you who caught him using his phone, when no one else had, a month ago.

“This oddly passionate side to the princely Chigasaki Itaru-san is really nice.”

He was eternally grateful to whatever higher being (beings?) there was that this conversation was taking place over the phone. Despite the air conditioning, his face began to warm like his phone would overheat after playing for too long.

Seriously, all you said was that side of him was nice— not that you knew the full extent— so why did he feel like a cliche otome MC? Wasn’t he past the stage of getting flustered over stuff like this?

“Chigasaki-san, are you still there?” you called out, and Itaru calmed himself down to the best of his abilities before answering.

“Yeah, sorry. Connection got cut for a bit. You were saying?”

If a smile had a sound, he was definitely hearing it right now. “Oh nothing~ I was just thinking that your fans would be so jealous if I told them I got to see a hidden side of their prince just now,” you teased.

Probably not. It’s not exactly the definition of charming, not even urban dictionary worthy, but he’ll indulge you.

He didn’t even bother covering up the huff that escaped him. “And who knew my dependable and quiet project partner was so chatty? Keeping a guy up this late and distracting him from work?”

It was your turn to be silent, and before he could apologise you beat him to it.

“I didn’t realise it was so late! Sorry, I wanted to chat away the stress,” you explained, “should probably stop disturbing you, right?”

He looked at the time. He’s not sure what he’s doing exactly, but he doesn’t need to go in-game until the reset at midnight— might as well refill his irl stamina too, right? Well, if he could be the bento box that helped you refill your energy, why not?

… Yeah, that sounded better in his head.

“I mean, we could probably talk about work on call… or,” he paused for dramatic effect, “we could just talk.”

Itaru’s equally as relieved as you when you breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, he didn’t want to actually talk about work. It was only the first day of the project, both of you had time to kill. Probably.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna end up sniffing out my secrets?”

He snickered at your suggestion. “Then I’m not the co-worker you should be worried about then,” before you could question who he possibly meant, he continued, “though since you got to see a quote, hidden side of me, unquote, shouldn’t I know more about you?”

“Hmmm? Like what?” you asked.

“Like what you even do on your phone anyway? You’re on your phone just as much as me,” as he uttered those words you were voiceless for a split second, not unlike the momentary silence committed by Itaru minutes ago.

You tittered, your awkwardness not going unnoticed. “Mostly reading e-books, nothing too special.”

Okay, but the way you made it sound gave off the impression of it being fan fiction or something. Not that he’d judge, just a little surprising for you he guessed.

“Oh? What’s it about?”

His suspicion died down quickly enough as soon as you went off about the plot and characters of the story you were reading. He made a noise every now and then to let you know he was still listening, moving to his bed as he slipped on his headphones.

As you ranted about some complicated love triangle he figured would be popular in TV dramas and reverse harem routes, the more he found it undeniable that he enjoyed seeing this side of you, too.

He felt the tension of the workday slip off his system, your voice washing it away. Who knows? Maybe you’d consider a career in streaming or ASMR or something.

A couple of minutes pass by, and Itaru’s wordless responses died down after a while.

“Chigasaki-san?” you asked gently, not wanting to disrupt him should your suspicions be correct. When he didn’t respond, you smiled to yourself. Well, midnight just struck after all.

“Good night, sweet dreams,” you whispered before ending the call.

Imagine finding out from a 17-year old brat that his ranking dipped because he fell asleep listening to his co-worker’s voice while waiting for the reset. He was a little upset at having to spend diamonds just to climb back up the leaderboard, but at least he’s in the top 0.1% again. It was nothing a bunch of grinding couldn’t fix.

What he was mortified about, however, was falling asleep in call. He was the one who suggested staying in the call in the first place, yet he dozed off on you. You didn’t send him an angry text or anything, but he was still prepared to press an f in the chat for himself.

Itaru found that you were already sat at your desk by the time he arrived, prodding at the phone inside your drawer. While it was mostly hidden, if he looked close enough he’d probably be able to see what you were doing.

… Not that he was going to, of course. You were mutuals in this we-secretly-use-our-phones-at-work tendency, he wasn’t going to betray you now! Still, he was a little curious. A peek over the shoulder wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Chigasaki-san, good morning! You looked like you rested well~”

Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time.

“Aha, my apologies. I suppose I was more tired than usual,” he paused, feeling something off— by the way you narrowed your eyes slightly at something behind him he could tell people were probably eavesdropping.

“Don’t worry! It was getting too late to discuss the upcoming project anyway,” you replied, putting emphasis to deter any rumours. Though you weren’t shouting by any means, the sudden volume definitely got you the response you wanted by the upwards pull of your lips. “We can continue working on it now that you’re here.”

As he sat down, turning his chair to face you, Itaru was unable to mask the small grin he sported on his face. “Very cool of you. So you have this side to you as well?”

“I’ve always wanted to try out a scene like that! Though I always imagined myself more on the MC’s side than the ML’s.”

“Hm? MC? ML?” he asked, feigning ignorance to the terms used. Not that those terms were limited to use in games, but still it was a teensy bit suspicious.

“Oh? Uh, MC for main character and ML for male lead,” you explained to him, not knowing that he already knew what they stood for. “Reviews for novels use those terms a lot, so I guess I picked up on them.”

… damn you right, though.

“Didn’t peg you for an office romance lover,” Itaru said, watching you shrug your shoulders.

“What can I say? I’m a versatile person with many interests~” you grinned, the sudden flash of your teeth a little blinding.

Unexpectedly all it took was one late-night phone call for you to be more comfortable around him; he finds himself feeling much of the same. Still, weren’t you getting a little bolder with your vague responses?

Well, if his dating simulators taught him anything, it was clear that you were begging for a response. For an unathletic man, his heart rate increased steadily like a man on a morning jog— the anticipation similar to what he felt when a game continued to throw him pleasant surprises.

“Really? What else are you interested in, then?” he asked, keeping his voice low so that only the two of you could hear each other. On the outside, the two of you probably (hopefully) looked like you were discussing work; at worst, conspiring a business scheme together— the glint in both of your eyes said otherwise.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you laughed quietly, almost tricking Itaru into believing you wouldn’t say any more. “For starters, I’m interested in you,”

He’s, well, more than a little dumbfounded. Shellshocked might be the appropriate word for it. Seriously, who told you it was okay to be so direct? Illegal, absolutely illegal. Someone arrest you already.

Still, his face is as calm and relaxed as ever; you wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong if not for the colour beginning to dust his cheeks.

“What specifically about me?” He could be digging himself a deeper hole, but all the same, he could use this to turn things around.

You rolled your eyes at him, as though the answer was obvious. “Everything, pretty much— though especially your, let’s call it the non-princely persona. I’m onto you, Chigasaki-san~”

He resisted the urge to laugh, pushing down the bubbling feelings of excitement that threatened to leave him.

“Not if I expose you first, sweetheart~” he threatened jokingly.

Thus began a game that would end sooner than both of you expected.

“Chigasaki-san, is it alright if we end our planning session early today?” you asked him, picking up your mug and placing it between your lips. He found himself mirroring you, drinking his coffee as well before responding.

“Sure. You have something you need to do?” He asked curiously, the dip in his smile showing the slightest disappointment on his features.

Work was still stressful as always but your presence, especially over the past week, had made things bearable if not enjoyable at points.

“Yeah. I have to pick up something from a store and I don’t wanna rush before closing time,” you explained, setting the now-empty ceramic down. “Thank you for the drink, Chigasaki-san. It’s easier to work with no one to bother us, you know?”

“Don’t mention it. You treated me yesterday, so it’s my turn now,” he waved off, shutting his laptop to begin packing up his things. “Need me to drive you to… wherever?”

The two of you exited the coffee shop, the cool breeze hitting your faces as the two of you descended the stairs. As you turned to greet him farewell he fought to keep his hand still as he looked at your wind-blown hair, slightly unruly but endearing at the same time.

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say you just wanted to be around me a little longer,” a soft, airy laugh escaping your throat. A smile touched the corners of his mouth and played in the laugh lines beside his eyes.

“Who’s to say you’re wrong, though?” he watched the red creep from your cheeks to your neck, half reveling in his success and half wondering if it went any further. He’s only a little dismayed that you hastily wished him goodbye and ran off to who knows where, but there was always tomorrow.

By the time you enter the game shop you’ve calmed down, for the most part, hair still a little disheveled but otherwise alright. Did playing around and teasing him finally come to bite you in the ass?

Ugh, that felt like a moment in otome games where the MC decides to tease the ML and the comeback has them all flustered and they run away.

Okay, that’s exactly what happened.

Seriously, you were an adult, what were you doing acting like a teenager? Did the dating simulators infect your brain or something?

You browsed through the new figurines to distract yourself, waiting for the inventory manager to retrieve the game you pre-ordered a while back. Once you and Itaru Chigasaki finished this deal with GeneSys you were going to immediately put in all your free hours into playing the game.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a familiar character, his figurine hidden a couple rows back.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a while,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the figurine. Shitty sequels aside, the OG game was totally fun. Maybe it was due for a replay of the game? You could probably dig up the cartridge somewhere in your room.

Distracted by your nostalgia, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it wasn’t for the narrow space causing you two to bump into each other.

“Ah, sorry…” you apologized for blocking the way, about to put back the figurine and move on until you heard your name.

Shit, you knew that voice all too well.

“Chigasaki-san?!” you exclaimed, taking in his widened eyes and knowing your expression wasn’t too far off from his own.

Once the initial wore off, rationality and relief took place. To think you were hiding the extent of your, uh, gaming obsession when in reality he wasn’t too far off, as far as you could tell by the sleek, limited-edition controller he was holding.

Yeah, he might even be worse than you.

“When I implied wanting to spend more time with you, I didn’t think it’d be like this,” he said, a good-natured laugh leaving him. Despite your original embarrassment, you followed suit soon enough.

“I guess we both ended up seeing each other’s secret pastimes at the same time, huh?” you replied, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I was right though,” you began, watching Itaru’s eyebrow quirk upwards.

“Right about what?”

“Liking this hidden side of you,” you smiled in delight as he looked at you uncontrollably fond, finally getting to fix your hair with his free hand.

He’ll ask you out properly some other time, but for now…

“Just the hidden side of me?” he teased, his hand sliding from the top of your head to poke your cheek. “Meanwhile here I am, liking all of you.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes in faux exasperation. “I like all of you, too.”

want to order again?

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! itaru #a3! x reader #itaru chigasaki #cafe: dessert menu #chigasaki itaru #itaru x reader #a3 itaru #a3! game #a3! actor training game

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entitynumber5 · 4 years ago

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hurt never meant

Chapter 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723250/chapters/73101963

Summary: Jon and Martin enter a battle of wits regarding the hiding of injuries.

Content warnings: paranoia, blood, injury, canon-typical worm mentions, descriptions of wounds and scars, stitches, needles, internalised ableism, swearing, arguments, toxic work environment, nausea, food mention.

It was very fun to write Martin being petty and stubborn but my god, having Not!Sasha in this fic was PAINFUL!!!!!! Hopefully the second chapter will be finished soon. Full text below the line. I hope everyone’s having a great day <3

The Tube is choking with artificial heat, pumped unregulated through the vents so that inside in late November, cocooned in coats, the passengers shift and sweat and mumble in discomfort. Martin tries to remember the mundane cycle of complaints and platitudes he follows in circles every morning: the air is drying out my contact lenses. At least it’s not summer. I wish I wasn’t wearing a coat. You’ll be grateful when you get outside.

Each circle is broken, just before he completes it and begins again, by the sensation of heat crawling beneath his skin, a tingling upwards motion. It ripples across his face, inducing a drowsiness like fingers dragging his eyes closed, before the prickling across his scalp sends him spiralling into discomfort once again.

He tries to force himself back to his commuter’s hymn, but the heat feels internal, spreading outwards as if attempting to meet the warm air of the Tube. It’s different from the normal unpleasantness. It’s too distracting. He shifts his weight between bursts of dizziness—he gave up his seat three stops ago for a person with a tiny baby strapped to them, and now he is squeezed against the door by the passengers who have joined him since—and a fresh wave of stars burst across his vision at the sharp slice of pain through his left foot.

Martin clings tighter to the bar as the pain wraps around his ankle and flares up the outside of his calf. For a moment, he thinks his whole leg might collapse beneath him and he is almost grateful for the way they are all shoulder-to-shoulder in the compartment.

Perhaps he should have called Rosie and told her. But a deep-rooted part of him cannot bear to take time off, remembers the times he had dragged himself to work feeling much worse—smiling from behind the till even during a bout of flu that made his entire body ache, carrying plants to cars at the garden centre a few days after he dislocated his shoulder helping his mother up after a fall. At least, at the Institute, he has a desk and a chair and very few opportunities for heavy lifting. Given time to take some weight off the injury before lunch, he is sure no one will even notice. And by tomorrow, he will be fine.

The next stop is his. Outside, the cold air takes some of the unbearable flush from his cheeks and he walks the rest of the journey with his coat open to counteract the heat of the train. He resolutely ignores the throbbing in his left leg as he joins of the parade of commuters, bustling in tandem along narrow pavements. The Institute isn’t far.

Martin fights the instinct to immediately make Jon a cup of tea. He knows it takes Jon a while to warm up to him each day, withdrawn and nearly always absent in the mornings. By the afternoon, Jon is slightly more receptive after enough time co-existing without incident, slightly more willing to drink the tea offered to him even if he always smells it beforehand. Morning tea is fed to the plants; afternoon tea, Jon tolerates.

He should stop by the staff room, anyway. The first aid kit inside is well-stocked. He knows this because he did it himself, spreading the task out with extensive research on the empty, boring workdays before Jon and Tim had returned from their leave. There are painkillers inside and the sort of durable bandages Martin doesn’t have at home. But the urge to sit down drags him past the door and straight to his desk.

“Morning, Sasha,” Martin says, supressing a loud exhale of relief when he lowers himself into his desk chair.

Sasha glances up distractedly from her computer and pulls out one of her earbuds. “What was that, Martin?”

Martin tries to fight an unfamiliar nervousness, an old friend from his early days in the Archives where he wasn’t sure where he stood with Tim and Sasha. “I was just saying good morning.”

“Of course.” Sasha smiles, although her expression is blank, almost cold. “Good morning to you, too.”

Martin gives her a tight-lipped smile in return. Sasha pops the earbud back in and returns to whatever work she is doing on the computer. He wonders if she can hear the noise of the repeated error notification over her music, wonders what she is doing to make the computer so combative.

Before Prentiss, he has a vague memory of there being a radio on Sasha’s desk. She wouldn’t turn it on everyday—sometimes, she could only get work done if she was wearing noise-cancelled headphones—but whenever she did, she and Tim would sing along to cheesy ’80s hits. He thinks he remembers them dancing together, the middle of the open plan office becoming a makeshift dance floor, but he cannot hold the entire picture in his mind. It’s like a reverse polaroid, fading out of view rather than in. Perhaps he only dreamt it.

He shakes himself out of the fuzziness filling his mind and tries to focus on checking his emails. He left leg throbs dully beneath his desk, but the pain becomes peripheral as each email dredges up the irritation he tries to avoid indulging on weekends. Elias has sent a motivational Monday email about the importance of teamwork and rallying together, especially after a difficult few months for all of us. Rosie has forwarded a fundraising form from his old supervisor in the library, who is apparently raising money for Dementia UK. He tries not to think about how difficult it had been to explain to the aforementioned supervisor why he needed time off to help his mother settle into the care home in Devon. And there is no email at all from Tim, who has stopped bothering to even send his apologies for being late with each new blow to his and Jon’s relationship.

“Martin.” Jon’s voice, slightly raised to catch his attention.

Martin looks up. Jon’s door is open just a crack. Before he can reply, Jon adds stiffly: “My office. Five minutes.” And then he closes his office door firmly once again.

Martin resists the urge to groan and lower his head to his desk. While he’s glad that telling Jon about his faked CV seems to have been a small but significant turning point, he isn’t sure he can manage another complicated conversation dredging up old anxieties today. He doesn’t want to reveal each shameful, painful secret he has in a futile attempt to make Jon trust him.

He can’t concentrate for the next five minutes. He alternates between watching the second hand on the clock across the office and refreshing his emails. He resigns himself to giving a fiver to the library fundraiser and eating the leftover takeaway in the fridge for lunch rather than getting a meal deal. He tries not to think about where Tim might be or what sort of mood he will be in when he finally arrives.

As soon as five minutes have passed, Martin stands. But with his stomach twisting in anxiety and his thoughts spiralling, he has managed to relegate the pain in his leg to the bottom of his mental priority list. Now that he’s standing, it’s demanding first place again. He has to grab the edge of his desk, almost sending his nearly-dead office plant and pot of pens flying across the floor. His monitor, still displaying emails, wobbles dangerously with the desk. He stands completely still for a moment, trying to breathe around the wave of nausea induced by the pain.

The prickling hotness is back. He hopes his face isn’t red when he finally plucks up the courage—and energy—to knock on the door of Jon’s office. It wouldn’t be the first time, he supposes. No matter how hard he tries, he finds himself blushing quite often whenever it is just him and Jon in the latter’s office.

“Come in,” Jon mumbles from behind the door.

Martin creaks open the door carefully and steps inside, trying very hard to make himself smaller, non-threatening. Jon sits behind his desk, staring at his computer screen. He doesn’t look away, but he waves Martin into the spare chair opposite him.

Martin has a feeling that sitting down would be a dangerous decision. He clears his throat. “Actually, I’ll—I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.”

This finally draws Jon’s eyes away from his monitor. “Alright. Although I can assure you that, unlike some of its brethren in Artefact Storage, that chair doesn’t bite.”

Martin tries to smile. Jon has been doing this more since the confrontation and subsequent reveal over his CV—trying to make jokes, or some approximation. An attempt to diffuse the tension, even when Jon’s body language is nearly always screaming: I see you as a threat.

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Martin replies, “But I, um—I was just reading this article about the impacts of sitting at a desk.”

“A productive start to your workday, then,” Jon mutters.

“And so I’m gonna try standing up a bit more,” Martin continues, deliberately ignoring Jon’s comment, “Around the office.”

“Around the entire office or my office specifically?”

Martin can feel the irritation—stirred by the emails, deflated initially by Jon’s joke—rising inside of him again. “Does it matter?”

Jon sighs. “I suppose not.”

“So, what did you, um, what did you need from me?” Martin asks, trying not to shift with nerves. He knows it will aggravate his leg.

“Sasha still appears to be having difficulty with her computer, so I was hoping to delegate the task of digitising the disproved statements from 1995 to 2000 to you,” Jon says.

Martin tries not to visibly bristle. Jon has been doing this a lot lately, too—far more frequently, in fact, than the half-formed jokes. He hoards the statements that won’t record digitally, combs them again and again for details rather than delegating this task to any of his Assistants, and only asks for very vague follow-ups.

But Sasha had volunteered to digitise the disproved statements. She said she liked the clear structure it gave to her day, always able to take a full hour for lunch to visit her new boyfriend, and how it led her to different places within the Archives. Besides, she has a transcribing qualification, although she had asked Martin the other day how to insert line numbers into a document. Brain fog, she had explained with that same thin smile.

Martin is quite happy to do whatever minuscule tasks Jon would sporadically trust him with, as long as it meant he had some idea of what Jon was currently putting all of his energy into. He doesn’t want to digitise statements from the ’90s.

“Will that be a problem?” Jon asks after the silence drags on.

“Nope. Not at all,” Martin lies, “It’s just that…”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I thought I could perhaps… do some follow-ups on the statements you’ve been reading.”

Jon sighs again. Distractedly, he lifts his left arm, his sleeve rolled up to his elbow, and scratches at the slightly-raw but almost-healed wound along his forearm. The stitches have dissolved, but Martin can see the pink scarring where they were placed across the wound, which is raised in comparison to the flat worm scars surrounding it.

“Don’t scratch it,” Martin tuts, “You’ll reopen the wound.”

“Martin,” Jon replies, exasperated, “It’s almost completely healed.”

“Completely healed? It’s not—it’s never going to be—you needed five stitches!”

“Yes, as you keep reminding me.”

“Because I—” Martin splutters, trying to find the words. “Because I worry about you.”

“Your worry is entirely unnecessary.”

“Is it? Because I think you’ve given me more than enough reasons to be worried about you lately.”

Jon’s jaw twitches angrily, but his expression is level when he forces his eyes to Martin’s. “I didn’t call you in here to have yet another pointless conversation about my mental or physical health.”

“Of course not. You called me in here to…” To do a completely meaningless task because you don’t trust me with anything else. He takes a deep breath and knows he cannot say that. “Digitise the 1995-2000 disproved statements.”

“Well remembered.”

Martin manages not to roll his eyes. “I’ll get started right away.”

Martin turns to leave. The first step is easy. The pain arrives on the second, taking him surprise, a direct strike to his ankle. He stumbles and has to steady himself again, this time against the chair Jon had offered him at the start.

“Martin,” Jon says, a hint of something like surprise—or worry—in his voice. He is half-standing from his own chair when Martin looks over his shoulder at him.

“I’m fine,” Martin insists.

“You’re clearly not fine. Are you injured?”

Martin leans into the chair so he can turn to face Jon again. At this angle, Martin catches only a glimpse of the healing wound where it snakes behind Jon’s wrist. But even with a limited view, the memory of the first time he had seen it grips him.

It had been near the end of the day. Martin went to use the toilet before he headed home, but the moment he was inside, all he could smell was blood. And for a moment, all he could think was the worms, they must have missed some of the worms, where did I last see Tim, oh, god, Jon hasn’t left for the day yet, is Sasha still in the office, the worms, worms again, always worms, it was only a matter of time. It was like walking through the Archives after the siege to give his statement: the musty smell of the worm carcases and the metallic hint of blood beneath. Jon and Tim’s blood.

He had lifted his sleeve to his nose to block out the smell and tried to gather some semblance of calm. The blood was in the sink. One of the bathroom stall doors was closed but not locked, a shadow just visible underneath. When Martin called out a cautious hello, the door creaked open at the behest of the occupant’s foot and Jon stood sheepishly inside, pressing a wad of red-stained tissues against his arm.

“Ah. Hello, Martin,” Jon had said. And then, “Heading home?”

Martin had shouted. He can’t remember what. His voice was always higher than it was loud when he was upset. After that, it had been a blur of the same lies. “I’m fine,” as Martin tried to apply pressure to the wound. “I don’t need stitches,” when Martin insisted on taking him to A&E. “It’s really not that bad,” while the doctor was injecting the anaesthetic and stitching the wound. “Why would I lie, Martin? For the last time, I cut myself on a bread knife,” repeated in the days after, again and again, no matter how much Martin pushed.

“Martin,” Jon says again, interrupting his train of thought, “Are you injured?”

Jon is lying to him. Jon is playing a game. Perhaps unintentional, perhaps well-meant, but nonetheless—two can play and Martin has thrown his hat into the ring. The irritation scratching against his ribcage is replaced with a petty sense of satisfaction.

“I sprained my ankle on the way to work. Tripped while I was getting off the Tube,” Martin tells him, “You know me. Clumsy as anything. It’s nothing serious.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like nothing,” Jon snaps.

“It’s fine.” Martin smiles. “I’m sure it will clear up on its own,” he adds, since Jon had something to that effect to him while bleeding profusely in the bathroom stall.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be digitising the statements, after all,” Jon murmurs, almost to himself, “Sasha hasn’t yet transferred them to the office and the boxes can be rather heavy.”

“Honestly, Jon, I can manage,” Martin interjects. The satisfaction has faded slightly, replaced with that desperate urge to prove himself, to show he doesn’t need time off work. He won’t go home. And he won’t be a liability while he’s here. “Besides, what else is there for me to do? Unless you want me to follow up on that statement?”

Jon looks down at his desk. A flash of panic crosses his face when he realises the statement folder is open and Martin, at any time, could have read it. He closes it, deliberately slow, as if trying to hide the reason why. “I’m sure I can find you something else to do at your desk.”

Martin knows this has become a different point of pride now. A dangerous point of pride. He doesn’t want Jon to fuss over him. He doesn’t want to be handled. He will do his job as usual and no one will know he is in pain, no one needs to assume he is anything other than fine.

“I’ll digitise the statements,” Martin says, “In fact, I’ll get started right away.”

“Martin, I—”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Then…” Jon hesitates. “Have a good day, Martin.”

Martin almost folds at the softness in Jon’s voice. For a moment, he considers taking it back—the stubbornness, the bitterness, the insistence that he’s fine. Would it hurt to give in, for a day, to the urge for rest? But it would. He knows it would.

“You too, Jon,” Martin murmurs, dismissing himself from Jon’s office and managing to make it out of the door without flinching every time he puts weight on his left leg.

Jon refreshes his emails. He deletes Elias’s aggressively positive bulletin before panicking that he will somehow know and transferring it back to his inbox. He flips through the statement on his desk. He makes sure the pages are in order, properly aligned. He takes the tape recorder from the drawer. He takes a sip from the sealed water bottle he keeps in the same locked drawer as the tape recorder. He lifts his thumb, letting it hover above the button to start recording.

Martin, he thinks. And he can’t begin the statement.

Martin is not fine. Jon is going to prove it. He had decided this before the emails, the statement, the water. But at the crossroads of burying himself in work or investigating Martin’s denial, he realises that it was never really a choice. He needs to know.

Perhaps Martin is hiding an injury related to Jon’s clandestine investigation. The tunnels are dark and, in places, littered with debris. A person visiting without the right equipment—or, at the very least, without a torch—could easily hurt themselves. Or likewise, if the tables had somehow turned, Martin could have lost his balance in the station while following Jon. The best lies always held some element of truth.

The worry eating at him is for this scenario, Jon tells himself. Not for Martin. He is not worried for Martin.

Jon props his door open slightly with his shoe. Now that he has taken to working in his office, door closed, he no longer worries so much about working in only his socks. He never liked the feel of his firm work loafers, and it’s easier to sit comfortably in his chair when his feet aren’t covered. He checks to see if any of them have noticed him, but in the bullpen, Sasha doesn’t look away from her malfunctioning computer, earbuds in. Tim has yet to arrive. And Martin’s desk is empty.

He goes back to his own desk and sits down. From this angle, he can see through the small gap where his shoe is holding the door open. A direct view towards Martin’s desk. He will know when Martin comes and goes, will be able to examine his reaction to movement and pain. Jon begins a timer on his phone—he should keep a record of how long Martin takes, that might give him an idea of the extent of the injury—and then throws himself into scouring the evidence that Basira left the last time she visited.

Jon keeps stopping to check the timer. At fifteen minutes. At eighteen. At twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-four. Martin has been gone for far longer than Jon had expected.

At thirty-seven minutes, Jon steps out of his office.

Sasha gives him a brief wave as he passes, but the other two desks are still empty. Jon feels himself frowning. He checks the staff room, but it’s empty and the kettle is cold when he touches his fingers to it. Next, he forces himself to walk slowly to the stacks where the original statements, even disproved, are stored. It is light and temperature controlled here, adjacent to the room where Martin had once stayed for months while they waited for Jane Prentiss’s attack. Because he knows now that was what they were doing: waiting.

Jon keeps his pace slow and measured. He realises he’s still not wearing shoes, which makes it easier to walk quietly along the stacks looking for the right dates. 1980-1985. He’s getting closer. He stops just before 1995-2000, listening for any clue Martin is there.

The first thing he hears is heavy breathing, every other inhalation hitching in pain. Jon grips the shelf behind him, digging his fingers into the wood, focusing on the sensation of the grain. He grounds himself, refuses the first and overwhelming urge to check on Martin. And then, shifting his weight very carefully, he leans forward so he can see through a small gap in the shelving.

Martin is sitting on one of the wheeled, plastic stools used for reaching the higher shelves. His left leg, the one he couldn’t put weight on earlier, is extended in front of him. The hem of his left trouser leg has hitched up slightly, revealing Martin’s sock—covered in tiny dinosaurs and padded as if hiding bandages beneath. His body trembles, almost like a slight blurring around the edges. He is gripping his thighs tightly, digging his nails in as he squeezes is eyes shut.

Jon’s heart clenches. He knew, in his office, that Martin was injured. But this is something else entirely. Beneath the sickly lighting, Martin is pale, almost grey, his skin shinning with a thin layer of sweat. Jon recognises the tightness at the edges of his mouth, the way his throat works against a rising nausea.

“Martin,” Jon says, stepping into view before he can think about what he’s doing.

Martin leaps off the stool, but the motion sends him immediately careening into the opposite shelf when his left leg won’t hold his weight. He catches himself before he falls fully, but he lets out a breathless “shit” that Jon attributes to both the pain and the shock. He tries to pull himself back up to his full height, but Jon can see the toll the sudden movement has taken on him.

“Christ, Jon,” Martin gasps, struggling to regain his breath.

“You’re lying to me,” Jon says. He stops himself before he adds: again.

Martin’s eyes widen slightly in alarm, a look of panic washing out his features further. “Jon, I—I thought we—I’m not—”

“About your injury.”

“Oh.” Martin deflates. “Oh. That.”

Jon is so angry he doesn’t have energy to spare on being embarrassed by his lack of subtlety. “Martin, you look awful.”

“Thanks,” Martin mutters.

“You should take the day off, at the very least.”

“Jon, I’m grateful for your concern, I really am, but—”

“If you say you’re fine again, I swear I will—”

“It’s a sprain,” Martin interrupts, insistent, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Jon sighs. His anger leaves him, replaced with a sort of sadness he can’t quite place. Nothing I can’t handle. That sentence implies a comparison, a time before that hurts Jon to think about. “Let me get the boxes, at least.”

“No,” Martin says quickly.

“Martin, you clearly—”

“I’ll get them,” Martin insists, “Your arm—”

“Is almost healed. The same cannot be said for your allegedly sprained ankle.”

Martin rolls his eyes. “Allegedly?”

Jon doesn’t dignify his echo with an answer. “My physical therapist says I’m ready to start—”

“No, see, that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be here!”

“I know my limits, Martin. You, apparently, do not.”

Martin laughs humourlessly. “Oh, for gods—”

“What?” Jon bristles. “I attended physical therapy, didn’t I?”

“Because I texted you every day to make sure you went. Because I sent you home when you tried to come back into work too soon.”

“I am more than capable of looking after myself.”

“You stabbed yourself with a bread knife!”

For a moment, a rebuttal sits on the edge of Jon’s tongue. He almost reveals the truth—the door, the blade of Michael’s finger tearing through his flesh when he tried to go after Helen. But no, that would be too much. That would be giving Martin exactly what he wants.

“So you finally believe me,” Jon says calmly.

“I’m finally starting to believe you’re never going to tell me the truth,” Martin replies.

“I’ve already told you the truth.”

“And so have I.” Martin looks him in the eye, unwavering. “I sprained my ankle. I’m fine. I can do this.”

Jon sighs. He rubs at his eyes, wishing he had gotten more sleep for the past—well, the past year. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Jon echoes, although he has no idea why, and leaves before Martin can question him.

Back in his office, he paces. He checks the timer on his phone. It’s been an hour. He sits down, glancing between his computer and the door, the computer and the door, the computer and the door. Eventually, he hears Martin drop a large box of case files on his desk, far louder than he would ever usually allow himself to be. Jon sighs again. He is not sure what battle they are locked in, but he knows it is going to be long and hard-won.

Jon goes back to scrutinising Basira’s evidence. A collection of statements taken from people in the vicinity of the Institute during Jane Prentiss’s attack. A profile on some of the employees who had frequent contact with Gertrude, including Martin’s old supervisor in the library. He had sent a reference of thinly-veiled insults across with Martin’s employee record and, for some reason, Jon had never liked him since.

He is disturbed by conversation outside.

“Afternoon, Tim,” Martin says.

“Afternoon, is it?” Tim replies bitterly. “I didn’t realise.”

Only then does Jon realise it is after midday and Martin still hasn’t badgered him about getting lunch.

“Can I get you anything?” Martin asks, his tone much softer. “A cup of tea, maybe?”

“Thanks, but I prefer coffee these days.”

Martin laughs, a small, quickly fading sound. “Believe it or not, I do also know how to make coffee.”

“I guess I…” A loud, exhausted sigh from Tim. Then, in a smaller, kinder voice: “A coffee would be great. Thanks, Martin.”

Through the half-open door, Jon watches as Martin grips his desk and uses it to leverage himself up. The change of elevation clearly makes him dizzy and he stands for a moment, breathing deeply while he reaches an equilibrium. But when he walks, he is mostly managing to mask the pain, at least until he leaves Jon’s field of vision.

Jon listens. He hears the familiar squeak of the staff room door swinging closed. After a fortifying breath, he forces himself out into the main office. Sasha’s desk is empty; she’s probably on her lunch break with the boyfriend who works at the wax museum. Tim is sitting in his chair, hands in his lap, staring blankly at his computer. The screen isn’t on.

Tim blinks. Pulls his dull gaze away from the computer. The shadows beneath his eyes are deep and purple, and he doesn’t even attempt to smile. “Can I help you with something, boss? Must be big if you’re willing to leave that office of yours.”

“Have you noticed Martin behaving strangely at all?”

“Oh, bloody hell, Jon, not this again,” Tim hisses, “I’m not helping you spy on—”

“No, no, not that,” Jon interrupts, “I believe Martin injured himself on his way to work, but he won’t tell me how severe it is.”

“Wow. Sounds kind of like someone else I know.”

“Tim.”

“I suppose he learnt from the best.”

“Tim,” Jon snaps, “Did you notice anything?”

“No.” Tim sighs. “No, I was a bit distracted, to be honest. I was sort of hoping Sasha would be here. I, uh, I need to talk to her about something.”

“Will you keep an eye on him?”

“I already told you, I’m not—”

“It’s not spying.”

“It’s as good as!”

“It is not.”

“You would know.”

“Tim,” Jon says, lowering his voice for impact, “If you are not going to do any work, at least—”

The staff room door whines open. Martin walks out backwards, holding the door open with his shoulder as he shuffles into the office a mug in each hand. One is the novelty mug with a celebrity and slogan on it that Jon doesn’t recognise, no matter how many times Tim has tried to explain; the other is the plain, sunny yellow one Martin always gives to Jon.

“Oh,” Martin says, pausing when he sees them both, “Is… everything alright?”

“Fine,” Tim replies, “Jon was just interrogating me about why I was late. And I was just telling him how I was passing by London Zoo when I heard a scream and I immediately began running—”

“Alright,” Jon interrupts, “I’ve heard enough.”

Martin lifts the hand holding the yellow mug slightly. “I made you tea.”

Jon tries to push away the warm feeling that unfurls in his chest, every time Martin says this. “Thank you, Martin. Let me take those from you.” He adds, firmly, “Both of them,” for good measure.

With some manoeuvring, Jon manages to relinquish Martin of both the mugs. He places Tim’s down on his desk, receiving a mumbled thanks, before walking the distance back towards his office door. Martin lingers in the doorway to the staff room, looking casually at Jon, but there is a stubborn set to his shoulders.

“How are the files?” Jon asks.

“Terrible,” Martin replies with a slight pout, “I’ve already read five statements about three separate Oasis concerts.”

Jon shudders. “I never liked the ’90s.”

Martin chuckles. “Yeah, well, at least they weren’t getting up to anything actually spooky.”

Jon hesitates. He knows, if he moves first, he will have lost this particular battle. But the war is still all to play for. He assesses the determination on Martin’s face and decides that, on his occasion, he will concede. Just this once.

“Well,” Jon says, clearing his throat, “Good luck with the rest.”

“What, you’re not going to make him put a quid in the jar for saying ‘spooky’?” Tim interjects.

Jon startles. He had almost forgotten him and Martin were not alone. “It’s a first offense.”

“It is not,” Tim calls after him, but there’s something playful in his tone, at least, “That’s preferential treatment!”

Jon goes back into his office without replying. He keeps the door open.

For the rest of the afternoon, Tim doesn’t exactly keep his word, but he does do everything in his power to prevent Martin from getting any work done. Tim isn’t subtle about it, but Martin tries to resist. He only plays two rounds of online Battleships with Tim before insisting on returning to the disproven statements. Tim then attempts to throw pens from his pot into Martin’s, scattering most of them around the office. When Sasha comes back, he quietens slightly and they all fall into some semblance of productivity. Jon does catch Tim playing solitaire when he passes his desk on the way to the bathroom, though.

Sasha is the first to go home. She leaves without stopping by Jon’s office and the absence scratches at his consciousness, some long-buried sense of rejection that he soothes and smothers with the knowledge that this is what he wants. He wants space to work. He wants to snap the lines of connection that might lead him towards betrayal.

Less than twenty minutes later, Tim is next. And he tries to take Martin with him.

“Come on,” Tim whines, his voice carrying through the barely-open door to Jon’s office, “Just one round. On me.”

“Tim,” Martin replies, his voice gentle but holding his position, “I really can’t. Not tonight.”

“We could grab something to eat instead? I’ve been meaning to try this sushi place right near—”

“I can’t eat—”

“Oh, right.” Tim clicks his fingers in remembrance. “You’re allergic to fish.”

“Not all fish,” Martin adds, like an apology.

“Not all fish,” Tim echoes, “But no sushi, just to be on the safe side.”

“Yep.” Martin sighs. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologise.”

From his office, Jon can hear Tim shifting slightly. The floors are hardwood, carefully maintained over the years, and despite taking some damage during Prentiss’s attack, Elias insists on keeping them. They creak. He remembers Martin mentioning it once in passing, when he was staying in the Archives, how sometimes he thought Jon was there even on the nights when he left before it got dark.

“At least let me walk you home,” is Tim’s last attempt, “A sprain is definitely not nothing. I sprained my wrist years ago climbing and it still plays up sometimes. Especially when I’m caving, actually, but that’s a story for another time.”

“Well, um… I won’t go climbing any time soon, then?”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” Tim says in his most flirtatious voice.

Martin laughs. “I appreciate it, Tim. But I’m—I just want to finish this off. Before I leave.”

Through the crack in the door, Jon sees Tim raise his hands in surrender. “Well, I tried.”

“I’ll be alright,” Martin adds, almost guiltily.

“You better be.” Tim hesitates again. Jon watches him pat the pockets of his coat, searching for his phone or perhaps his keys. “You got my link? The NHS website one about strains?”

“I did. Thank you.”

“And you know about calling 111?”

“Also yes.”

“And you can call me if you need me?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go,” Tim says, resigned, “Just—take care of yourself.”

“You too, Tim,” Martin replies softly.

Tim heads off, again without stopping by Jon’s office. And it’s habit, by now, it’s not unusual for Tim to do this, but Jon taps the desk lightly with his fingers to try and dispel the feeling of wrongness sitting on his chest. He watches Martin go back to the computer, a tension around his eyes that suggests at a headache and the same pallid, nauseous look visible even in profile.

Jon considers the work he has left. The work he knows, realistically, he will never quite finish because every statement, every piece of footage, every lead, only stirs up more questions. He could stay. He could push himself on into the night, as he has done so many times before. He could find another reason to go into the tunnels. But deep down, he is exhausted—by the need to know, by the itch at the edge of his knowledge where uncertainty lingers and festers. He wants to rest and he thinks if he leaves now, Martin might, too.

Jon gathers his things, stuffing a few statements inside his messenger bag before shrugging on his coat, his scarf, his gloves and his hat. The cold air hurts his scars and dries out his skin until they become tight, small movements made increasingly uncomfortable without intervention, so he’s resorted to wearing more layers. Finally, he puts his shoes back on, retrieving the left one from the door and then closing it behind him when he steps out into the main office.

Martin glances away from his computer. “Heading home?”

“Yes,” Jon replies, as casually he can, “I thought I would call it an early night. Would you—I thought—perhaps you would like to join me?”

Jon tries not to notice Martin’s cheeks flushing pink. “Oh, um, I—I was actually—I think I should stay. Just for another half an hour or so. It’s just, I’m nearly finished with October to December 1999 and I know it will bother me if I leave it.”

Jon quirks an eyebrow. “That interesting?”

“Hmm.” Martin shrugs. “Mostly just a lot of people worried about the turn of the millennium.”

“Ah. I remember that.” Jon doesn’t let on that he spent October to December 1999 researching that very phenomenon obsessively, walking the line between intense curiosity and deep dread at the possibility of catastrophe. There are some things—many things—Martin doesn’t need to know about him.

Martin smiles. “Well, I… I better get on.”

“Martin,” Jon says, trying to keep his voice measured. He feels like he is wavering between an offering and an argument. “I know I stressed the importance of digitising those files this morning, but there is no reason to spend overtime on—”

“There is, though,” Martin interrupts, “A reason.”

“Oh?”

Martin looks him in the eye and almost smiles. “I want to.”

“Right,” Jon sighs.

“Right,” Martin echoes.

“I suppose I’ll—I’ll be going, then,” Jon murmurs, tapping Martin’s desk just once in deference to the slight tremble in his body, the way he isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. “See you tomorrow, Martin.”

Martin smiles, this time. A full smile. “Bye, Jon.”

Jon turns. He begins to walk away. In his mind, he sees an alternative: going back, asking Martin to walk with him to the station, an offer he knows will, at least, make Martin think again. The both of them squeezed among commuters, hands stuffed into the pockets of their coats because of the cold, elbows knocking against each other every so often as the crowd tightens and expands. The awkward, protracted moment of goodbye when they part to separate platforms, the glimpse of the other walking away and the pang of sadness that comes with it.

It’s manipulative to ask, a cruel trick, and yet—is it? Is it, if that is something Jon wants, too?

Jon doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking, even though he knows—somewhere deep and hidden and insistent—that he will regret it.

#cw paranoia #cw worms #cw injury #cw blood #cw nausea #cw toxic work environment #cw internalised ableism #cw food mention #cw needles #i feel really shy about posting this?#idk why #it was genuinely hard to write not!sasha that might be it #my confidence might be low right now but my love for martin increases daily #so i will write him no matter what 😤#my writing #love to eveyone #thank you for reading #<333

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theycallmebeccawrites · 4 years ago

Text

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 21

Greetings all! I hope you guys are having a good day and if not, I hope it gets better for you. Today is a bittersweet day for me. I gave Ellie July 17th as her birthday in honor of my grandma, who passed away in 2016, a couple days after I started writing the Chris and Ellie series. My grandma would have been 92 today. ❤

My grandma always encouraged me to do what I love and I love to write, so I do. And I love sharing what I’ve written with you guys. So thank you for allowing me to share this little world I have created with all of you guys. And thank you all for reading.

xo Becca xo

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Episode Summary: The lead up to Ellie's birthday and the surprise that Scott has planned for her.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological. It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future. However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 20.5

Episode 21: Birthday Confessions

July 2014

Music flowed through the speakers as Ellie merged off the freeway and onto the exit for LAX.

"I don't have to go, you know," Scott said as he looked over at her.

"Yes, you do," Ellie replied, glancing at him. "You're in a wedding and your family has been looking forward to seeing you."

"I just don't like the idea of you all alone," Scott admitted. He knew she had come a long way in the weeks since she'd started opening up about what had happened between her and Chris, but he hated leaving her there alone.

"I'll be fine," Ellie assured him with more confidence than she actually felt. She hadn't been by herself in the house since December and that felt like a lifetime ago. If she was being honest with herself, she'd never really liked being in the big house when it was empty, but now it was filled with memories she didn't want to revisit.

"Thanks for driving me," Scott said as Ellie navigated the departures drop off area.

"It was the only way for me to ensure you'd get on the plane," Ellie replied in a joking manner as she pulled over in front of the designated area for the airline he was flying.

Scott gave a mumbled 'ha' before he leaned over and gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek. Then he got out of the car and went back to the trunk to get his suitcase. He gave her another wave before he disappeared into the steady stream of people going into the airport.

Not ready to go home yet, Ellie ran a few errands before she made her way back to Chris's house. She parked her car in the garage and then made her way inside.

With no desire to hang out in the big house, she quickly made her way through the kitchen and out the backdoor. Using the patio off the kitchen and the steps down to the pool deck took longer than going out the door through the basement, but she didn't like going down to that room if she didn't have to.

Once inside the guesthouse, Ellie let Daisy out of her kennel and then sat down on her bed to check her email. She'd finished editing a book a couple weeks ago for a new author and was waiting for her next assignment. Instead of finding a new manuscript to read, she found an email saying that one of her main authors would have one ready for her soon, so they were keeping her schedule open.

After replying to the email, Ellie closed her laptop and leaned back against the pillows on her bed with a sigh. She had been hoping to distract herself with a new manuscript while Scott was gone, but now that wasn't an option. She'd already picked up a few extra shifts at the bookstore, helping people who wanted to take days off, but picking up seemed better than staying at Chris's more than necessary.

Picking up her phone, she sent a couple texts, seeing if anyone wanted to hang out that night. Unfortunately, no one was available, but she was able to make plans for other nights during the week when she wasn't working. Including accepting a couple invitations for the Fourth of July.

Thus, the first week Scott was gone went by in a breeze. She worked on the second and went to a movie with some friends after work on the third. Then she spent the morning of the fourth with her cousin and the late afternoon and evening with Pierre and some of his friends. She picked up another shift on Saturday and then spent Sunday with her cousin's family, not wanting to spend the whole day alone at Chris's house.

"You've had a busy week," Pierre reflected after she'd told him all about it during dinner at his condo during the second week. In fact, he'd already known how busy she was keeping herself, thanks to a group chat he'd found himself part of with her sisters, cousin and Scott. He wasn't convinced it was a good idea to have such a chat, but it made the others feel better.

"It feels good to be busy," Ellie said with a shrug before muttering, "Better than staying alone in the house, anyway."

Whether or not she wanted him to hear the last part, he had, and he realized her sisters were right to raise concern over her sudden shift in personality. Ellie, they had explained to him, was a homebody by nature. A trait she'd shared with Chris, Scott had told him privately.

"What's wrong with staying at home?" he asked, cautiously.

Ellie sighed and shoved her food around on her plate before looking up. "Other than that it's Chris's house and I'm just a house guest?" she asked.

She sounded snarky, but he sensed that she was trying to mask her true feelings. Instead of prying, he waited her out. They'd been friends for nearly two months and he'd learned quickly that she liked to process her thoughts before she could speak them aloud.

"It's the memories," she finally admitted. "There's nowhere in the house that I can go that doesn't have a million memories flooding back to my brain of happier times. Not even the guesthouse is memory free, but there, with my things, I can push him out. That isn't possible in the rest of the house though. He's fucking everywhere."

Pierre nodded consolingly. He'd been through many a breakup, but only one that had left him in a house full of memories. Of course, he'd had to suffer through the rest of his lease before he'd been able to move. But moving to this condo had been a fresh start.

"And I'm crying again," she said in an exasperated tone as she brushed away the tears. "I told myself that I'd cried enough over this whole situation."

Pierre stood up and grabbed a box of tissues off the kitchen counter and brought them back to the table. Instead of sitting back down across from her, he took the seat next to her. He handed her a tissue and she gave him a weak smile before blotting the tears.

"Obviously, I don't know your financial situation or what your agreement is with Scott's mom regarding room and board, but have you thought about moving out?" he asked Ellie.

Ellie shook her head. "I hadn't gotten that far yet," she admitted. "Chris is gone for another few months and technically, living there when he isn't there is what I'm paid to do."

"Think about it," Pierre encouraged her. "It might be the next step you have to take."

The idea of finding her own place stayed at the forefront of Ellie's mind in the days that followed, but it wasn't until a night where she had nothing to do but sit in the guesthouse that she did anything about it. She went back to the links she'd found in her early days of living in the Los Angeles area and looked for availabilities within her price range. There were a few of them, but none in areas that she'd feel comfortable living by herself in.

Unlike the last time she'd been hunting for an apartment, she wasn't tied down to a specific part of town because of a job. Nor was she as strapped for cash as she had been. Thanks to the added income of editing manuscripts and not having to pay rent, she had managed to pay down a lot of her debt with the money that Chris's mom had paid her.

Despite having a wider area to search for a place to live, Ellie found herself struggling to find anything less than $1,000 a month that allowed dogs. Frustrated, she closed her laptop and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Which only served to remind her that in addition to finding a place to live, she'd have to buy furniture as well as she didn't have any.

"We'll find a place, Daisy," she said, scratching her dog's head. "I don't know where yet, but we'll find a place."

By the time Scott returned from the east coast, a few days later, she'd sent off applications for a couple of apartments an hour or so away, but both had come back saying she'd been added to a waiting list for an apartment. She considered telling Scott that she was thinking about moving out but decided against it. She knew he was still worried about her with everything that had happened and she didn't want to worry him more than she had to.

"You're a doll for picking me up," Scott said once he was in the car and she had merged into the traffic leaving LAX.

"Gave me an excuse to get out of the house," Ellie replied before mentally kicking herself. "Daisy and I spent yesterday lounging by the pool."

Scott lowered his sunglasses and raised his eyebrows. "Under an umbrella?" he asked, seeing that her skin, while glowing, was still barely tan.

"And wearing lots of SPF," she replied with a laugh. "How was Massachusetts and the wedding?"

"The wedding was beautiful," Scott stated before going into a full rundown of the wedding. Followed by an elaborate explanation of his family's Fourth of July party and what he had done with his family while he'd been home.

"Sounds like you had a blast," Ellie said with a smile.

"Oh, I did, but it's nice to come home to some quiet," he replied and then smiled. "But don't worry. It won't be too quiet, after all, we both know what's happening on Thursday."

"I know my birthday is on Thursday," Ellie said, cautiously as she glanced at him. He wore a big smile on his face. "Scott Evans, what have you done?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," he replied, then mimed zipping his lips closed, locking them and throwing away the key.

He remained annoyingly tight lipped over the next few days, which put her slightly on edge because she had no idea what he had up his sleeve. She knew the two of them had two very different types of fun; she liked to stay home and play games while he liked to go out and dance.

Thursday morning, Ellie came up to the big house to find a cinnamon roll in a pastry box for her on the kitchen counter along with a note from Scott.

Izzy told me that you guys always had cinnamon rolls for breakfast whenever someone in the family had a birthday when you were growing up. I didn't make it (that would have been a disaster) but enjoy!

She cut the large cinnamon roll in half and ate half of it, then took the other half back to the guesthouse with her, to take to work. Once Daisy was settled in her kennel, Ellie grabbed her stuff and left for work.

The sense of relief that came over her as she drove away from the house was only more confirmation that it was time for her to move out.

Later, during her lunch break, she looked for apartments again and, after failing to find much in the Los Angeles area, decided to try looking in Oregon. She hated the idea of leaving LA and her friends, but the truth was she could live anywhere and still do her editing.

—————

“She’s coming!” Scott called as he ran down the stairs. "Everyone get away from the window!"

He heard her sisters scrambling into spots that couldn't be seen from the window as he made his way to the main floor. Hearing the garage door opening, he made his way down the hall to the kitchen and was waiting there when Ellie came into the house.

"Hey there, birthday girl!" he greeted her with a big grin. "I noticed you didn't leave me a piece of the cinnamon roll."

"You're damn right I didn't," Ellie replied with a tired smile.

"Before you go to your room, can you come look at something in the living room for me?" he asked.

"I have a call with my sisters in like ten minutes," she told him, glancing at the clock on the stove.

"It'll be fast, promise," Scott insisted. "Like a minute tops."

Sighing, Ellie put her stuff down on the counter and then followed him down the hall to the living room. "So what am I -" she started to ask, but shut her mouth when she saw her sisters sitting casually in the room.

She stared in disbelief as tears began to well up in her eyes. She felt Scott nudge her from behind, encouraging her to go to her sisters.

"Happy Birthday, El," Izzy said, reaching her first. She wrapped her around Ellie and hugged her tight.

"I'm happy you guys are here," Ellie said, through her tears. "But what are you doing here?"

"You didn't think we were going to make you celebrate all by yourself, did you?" her youngest sister, Riley, asked with a grin as she gave Ellie a hug. "We were here last year, too. This year we just brought Sydney with us."

"I'm here to make sure those two don't get too wild," Sydney said, jokingly as she gave Ellie a hug. "And to make sure we do things you like to do for your birthday weekend."

"Birthday weekend?" Ellie repeated. Then she saw Scott lingering in the doorway. "This is what you've been planning all week, isn't it?"

"Part of it anyway," Scott replied with a grin. "I'll let them tell you the rest."

"You're the best," Ellie told him. She reached her hand out to him and he took it, squeezing it. "What is the rest?"

"Our gift to you is a weekend getaway at a beach house about an hour from here," Sydney told her. "The five of us and Pierre, but he'll be coming tomorrow after work."

"When are we going?" Ellie asked.

"As soon as you can pack a bag," Izzy told her.

"What about Daisy?" Ellie asked, only then spotting her dog curled up in her favorite chair in the corner.

"She's coming with us," Scott replied. "I've already packed her stuff."

"Thanks," Ellie said, smiling at him. "What do I need to bring?"

"I'll h-" Izzy and Riley started, but Sydney stepped forward and took Ellie's hand before saying, "I'll help you pack."

"Thank you," Ellie muttered under her breath as she and Sydney made their way to the guest house.

Twenty minutes later, she and Sydney came back into the main house, locking doors as they passed them. They followed the voices out to the garage and found Scott and Izzy loading things into his car while Riley played with Daisy.

"Isn't someone driving with Scott?" Ellie asked as Izzy took her bag and put it in the backseat.

"Daisy is going to be my copilot," Scott told her

"Are you sure?" Ellie asked him. "I can ride with you."

"Nah, you ride with your sisters, Daisy and I will be fine," Scott assured her. "Besides, she doesn't try to change the music like some people I know." He gave her a pointed look.

"I would be offended except you do the same thing to me when I'm driving you," Ellie retorted before maturely sticking her tongue out at him.

"Very mature for a 29-year-old," Scott commented.

"Let's get on the road, shall we?" Sydney interrupted in a mom tone.

"You guys head out, I'll do a quick check around the house to lock it up and then Daisy and I will follow," Scott offered.

"Shotgun!" Riley shouted out.

"It's Ellie's birthday, Riles," Izzy said, shaking her head. "The birthday person always gets the front seat."

"Fine," Riley sighed. "Let's go."

Thanks to traffic, the drive took longer than an hour, but Ellie didn't mind. It had been a long time since she'd gone anywhere with just her sisters and it was just like old times. Telling stories, laughing, and talking over each other as Sydney drove.

The beach house was down the street from the beach, rather than oceanfront, but they could see the ocean from the balcony off the largest of the three bedrooms. The house had a Mediterranean feel to it in its design and decor. The first floor had the smaller of the three bedrooms rooms, a half bath and an open concept living, dining and kitchen. The second floor had a full bathroom and two bedrooms, the largest of the two having two queen sized beds in it. The best part of the house, though, was the backyard that looked like it belonged in Italy instead of Southern California.

By the time Scott got to the house with Daisy, the sisters had unloaded the few things that had been in the trunk of Ellie's car and had ordered takeout from a nearby restaurant. They helped him unload his car, putting their luggage in the bedroom with the two queen sized beds, leaving the other two rooms for Scott and Pierre.

Then they all headed outside to relax on the back porch while they waited for their dinner to be delivered. Sydney poured everyone drinks, except for herself, a fact that her sisters quickly noticed.

"Are you pregnant?!" Riley demanded.

The corner of Sydney's mouth twitched, but she nodded. "I didn't want to say anything tonight, because it's Ellie's birthday, but -"

"Shut up," Ellie said laughing as she gave her sister a hug. "It's the best birthday present you could give me!"

Hearing the doorbell ring, Scott went to answer it, leaving the sisters to celebrate. Knowing the sisters had already paid for the meal, he gave the delivery person a cash tip, thanked them and closed the door.

As he carried the food back to the girls, he paused when he heard Ellie say: "I have some news myself."

Given what her sister had just announced, he froze, his mind instantly going to the idea that she might be pregnant with Chris's baby.

"Relax, I'm not pregnant," Ellie said with a nervous laugh.

"Fucking hell, Ellie," Izzy said in a relieved tone that matched how Scott was feeling. "Don't scare us like that."

"What's your news, Ellie?" Sydney asked, drawing everyone's attention back to Ellie.

"I'm going to move out of Chris's house," Ellie announced. "I don't feel comfortable there anymore. In fact, I hate being there by myself."

Scott could tell that she was holding something back and so could her sisters, because Riley called her out on it.

"What aren't you telling us?" Riley asked.

"I'm having a hard time finding a place here that I can afford," Ellie replied, her voice trailing off. "So I might be moving home. Want a roommate, Riles?"

Scott felt his stomach drop. He didn't want Ellie to go back to Oregon.

"I thought you were saving money," Sydney said, snapping into the protective older sister/mothering older sister mode.

Scott smirked. Her sisters had this.

"I paid off a lot of things," Ellie replied. "And I have some savings, but…"

Scott heard her sigh.

"After everything with Chris went downhill, I haven't felt right accepting the money that Lisa has been paying me," she confessed to her sisters. "I've been donating my paychecks to a non-profit organization that provides books to underprivileged kids in the LA area. It seemed fitting since she and I met at the bookstore."

"Oh Ellie," Sydney said, the tone not one of scolding but of compassion.

Backing up, Scott decided to put dinner on the dining room table and get dishes out so they could serve themselves in the house. Allowing the sisters and himself time to process Ellie's confession. All of them.

He hated the idea of her moving period, but especially the idea of her moving to another state. The paycheck donation was a whole different situation, one that he wasn't fully capable of processing just yet. Obviously, there was guilt on Ellie's part, but for what? Taking advantage of his mom's trust by boinking Chris? His mom liked Ellie and she would have loved holding the fact that she'd picked Chris's wife over his head.

Scott shook his head and sighed. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw Riley in the doorway. "I was just going to call you guys in," he told her, gesturing to the food that he'd laid out.

"Awesome, I'll get the others," Riley replied before disappearing outside again.

One thing he knew for sure was that if his mom ever found out that Ellie had donated her paychecks because Chris was a dumbass, Scott would pay top dollar to witness that confrontation.

He was still smirking to himself when the sisters filed in. He let them go first and then dished himself a plate of food.

No one said a word about Ellie's possible move until they were all seated at the table outside.

"For the record, I think you moving back to Oregon is a bad idea," Riley stated, looking at her older sister. "I've never seen you run away from your problems in my entire life. Never mind the fact that everyone will wonder why you left California. And you know how our family talks, it will be all over town within five days of you stepping foot on mom and dad's farm. We won't talk, but you know how they are, they'll figure it out. They always do."

Scott picked up his drink and took a sip, hiding his smile. Ellie was stubborn, but her sisters wouldn't let her do anything stupid. And neither would he. He was going to do everything in his power to get her to stay in LA.

Episode 21.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

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bbnibini · 4 years ago

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-four🔖

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved > displaying capture targets

Mammon : 100♡/100♡ Satan: 85♡/100♡ Barbatos: 0♡/100♡ Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES >approved }

You wondered where it all went wrong.

Everything had been perfect since you discovered the identity of your secret admirer. Uncovering sides of Mammon that perhaps he wasn't even aware of himself, you spent a lot of time getting to know each other, marveling at every new thing you discovered about him. You kept his love-filled words close to your heart, lingering there at times when you felt lost and perhaps even unloved. His penned words were beautiful yet poignant, hopeful yet deep which, you have eventually discovered reflected so much of Mammon himself. He often rebuffed your praises, perhaps shy of your careful observations. There would always be a blush there dusting his cheeks, colouring itself in deeper shades at every sneaky kiss. You always liked those nights when you talk about anything that pops out of your minds, and you thought he liked them too. But now, you were starting to feel doubt.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

Flashback to this morning when it all started.

"Mammon?" you couldn't help but reach out to him, your hand touching his cheek. ' Didn't the spell work?' you thought to yourself as you heard him stutter a 'Yes', kissing your inner palms.

"Is something amiss, my love? You look like you've seen a ghost."

So it didn't work?

You shook your head and let your hand rest on his cheek. "No…I was just wondering if you wanted to sleep some more."

Why is he still acting like this?

"If I sleep now, then it would ruin yesterday's efforts." he fiddled with something in his DDD--his email app; showing two booked tickets to Devil's Coast. Signs of the old Mammon showed in his boyish grin. "And all it took was covering for an acquaintance's shift."

"Is that why you're there yesterday?"

Mammon smiled shyly. "Yes…I wanted to surprise you. Is it too early to celebrate the conclusion of our final exams?"

You couldn't help but smile back. You planted a kiss on his lips which he happily received. "Very early. But this is a nice change of pace before Armageddon."

"Ain't that the--" he cleared his throat and quickly corrected himself. "Very true. Once this weekend is over, we are back to our old, monotonous routines."

You weren't imagining it. Something about his graceful movements really did seem off. "I'm looking forward to it!" Then again, you supposed there was a reason behind this. You decided to humour him and pretend you haven't noticed anything. "Let me wash up first and we can grab something to eat?"

"That sounds lovely."

Hoping your feigned smile wouldn't betray you, you shut the bathroom door and quickly opened your DDD to text Satan.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror and nodded to yourself. Turtleneck it is. You learned your lesson the last time. A mixture of Mammon's toiletries and yours were in the bathroom, making you remember how he was trying his best to hide his excitement from invading half of your space the first time you talked about sharing a room. Not like his room was safe from your own stuff too--it just so happens that he likes hanging around your room lately because of how busy you were. He usually finishes his council duties early and tries (read: tried) to help you with yours, until both of you immediately realise that his bystanding was the best help he could offer. Any pouting from his side was placated with hugs and kisses, words of love he was too shy to say back and a loving gaze he couldn't help but give you when he thought you wouldn't notice. He still isn't the most honest demon when it comes to expressing his feelings, but you can see that he was trying. You just hoped that his recent gentlemanly behaviour is also a part of his trials and he isn't involved in anything dangerous.

Letting go of your nostalgia and embracing the present back in your thoughts, you wondered about the sound of shattering glass from outside. There you saw a flustered Mammon picking up the shards of what looked like Lucifer's china with his bare hands--his gentlemanly facade was nowhere to be seen.

"Mammon, no! Put that down. You'll injure yourself!" you cried, responding on instinct to take his hands into yours, throwing the shards back to the floor in the process. You snuck a look at Mammon and saw his troubled expression, bitten lips you usually noticed when he wasn't having the best kind of thoughts---or you simply dubbed as sad Mammon upon discovering it one drunken, wild and passionate night. You couldn't smell any alcohol on him this time though so you wondered what caused him to look this way.

"I'm fine…" Gentlemammon was back, albeit with a shaky voice. "Please don't worry, I still have to clean this up."

"Let me help you."

"It will heal quickly even if I get injured. There is nothing to worry about." he assured you, keeping your warning in mind, only to take it back once he saw your worried look. "I will wear gloves this time," he said as he hastily placed each pair on, a small smile forming his lips as he did so. "There, you see? I will be fine. So please step back now and I'll do it myself."

"What were you doing anyway?"

Mammon avoided eye contact. "I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed."

"That's very sweet but, you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

Silence. He continued picking up the shards, disposing of it in a trash bag nearby. "I want to push myself." You heard him sigh. "However, I suppose it's my mistake to assume I can carry this out without failure. Can I try again though?"

You didn't have the heart to reject him especially if he looked like a kicked puppy right now. "Of course! But I want to eat with you."

A compromise that he was willing to adhere to. The pancakes he made were slightly charred and oddly spicy. The Melancholy Coffee™ you praised him for making the other day tasted even worse---unpleasantly bitter that if you didn't attribute its strong, bitter taste to Mammon's love for you would have caused a gagging reflex. A feigned smile was painted on your face for the rest of breakfast, making mental notes to take stomach medicine once he is out of sight. You comforted yourself with the fact that you had a date with him today. The bitterness subsided a bit with your early morning daydreams.

Satan had been a wonderful accomplice. With his intervention, Mammon avoided bumping into anyone, thus making his situation a lot less complicated. The avatr of wrath gave you a conspiratory smile and a wink, mouthing you well wishes for your day by your lover's side to go smoothly. You nodded and mouthed back at him a thanks in reply. Your back and forth didn't escape notice however. You avoided Mammon's sensible questioning with a clueless smile.

"I haven't seen even Beelzebub at the dining area today. Is everyone but Satan asleep?"

Smile.

"I was going to pay back Leviathan for the money I owed him this morning. I wonder why he isn't around today…"

He will pay back?! Smile

"I wonder how my dear eldest brother Lucifer is doing--"

S-smile…

"As I thought, perhaps expecting change from me is unsightly. I'm sorry if I'm wasting your weekend by asking you out out of the blue…"

Smi--

"Wait, no!" you held him by his face and vehemently denied his claims. "I love you, Mammon! I'm looking forward to today as you are!"

Blush.

Your faces resembled tomatoes. Satan had to clear his throat to remind both of you of his presence.

"If you flirt any longer, you'll miss your bus."

"R-right…" you looked away.

"Certainly." Mammon stuttered. You felt a hand reaching out for yours, turning to Mammon who had a bashful smile. You smiled back and interlocked your fingers together.

The ride to the amusement park was awkward yet pleasant. You saw cracks in his facade a couple of times, familiar with the reluctance on his movements unlike his odd and almost unsettling finesse at the cafe. You still weren't sure if he really is still under a curse or not, or if he is and it was weakening every moment, but you decided to wait for him to address it on his own. You have recently learned that Mammon gets really flustered if you pay attention to him (bordering almost on timidity) and loses his will/drive if you let him know that you are aware of him. A few pillow talks ago, he admitted it was because he only wanted to show you his cool sides, to which you answered (with much confusion), "But you're always cool though?" and he responded with his usual remarks, ranging from "idiot" to his classic "weirdo"™. Today, much like yesterday however, there was none of that. Instead, he called you several affectionate pet names, and even bashfully shared some snacks with you that he usually considered as "indirect kiss territory", which is Mammon Code for "I ain't doin' this cos I like it, kay?" which totally meant that he was doing it because he liked the heck out of it.

"Hey Mammon," you looked at his reflection from your window seat as you spoke. "Why did you write me a letter?"

You saw him blush an adorable shade of red from the window. "What's with the sudden question?"

"I was just curious," you answered. "I didn't know you could write so well."

"I-is that so…"

"I really appreciate it, although you might be tired of hearing it already."

"...."

"I'm so glad you sent it to me. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if anyone will ever remember me once I go back to the human world." you remembered your first interaction with him and laughed. "We didn't have the best first impression of each other, didn't we?"

"...I should have treated you better."

You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, looking up to meet his eyes. "You're doing it now and that's what matters."

You sensed sadness in his eyes for a fraction of a second before the conductor announced your stop. You must have imagined it.

💌💌💌

"Wahhh! Mammon, look! Look! Is that Red Devil?! Kyaaaa he's so cuuuute!!"

"O-oi, don't pull-- I mean…Cease! Cease!"

You couldn't help it! There was so much to see everywhere! The crowded theme park was filled with all kinds of attractions at every direction that any child or child-at-heart would definitely enjoy. Taking a photo with the park's mascot, Red Devil is one of the first activities you have done from your many planned ones on your date. Your contagious enthusiasm had infected him that by the time he realised he was grinning at every picture, it was too late. He looked oddly disturbed but you only laughed it off and reassured him that the shots were great!

"It isn't...after all, I'm--"

"Mammon?"

"It's nothing." You were beginning to feel bad for dragging him along.

"Is everything okay?" he suddenly turned pale and you asked him to sit down. "Do you want to take a break?"

He declined your offer and shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's continue our date, shall we?"

Eh?

That pose…

"The Devilish Duke?"

It was definitely the Devilish Duke from the manga adaptation of Emison Beckstein's timeless classic, The Emerald-Eyed Earl. The Devilish Duke was the protagonist's fiancé and was a minor villain in the story. He became hugely popular because of the success of the manga adaptation as well as the artist's interpretation of his design. You couldn't help but mention it right now because Mammon was currently mimicking the Duke's infamous "courtship pose", which many otakus credit for being the very first ever "kabedon".

Mammon's eyes widened once you mentioned his name and quickly pulled away. He dragged you gently to the next attraction before you could say a word.

His odd behaviour only persisted as your date went on-- a kiss on your hand near the fountains, like what Senpai-San did to Shujinko-chan in Heartbeat Memorial: My First Love, Please Notice Me Or I Will Spontaneously Combust! ; a reiteration of an infamous line from a popular otome game, Mystery Message Delivery in the ferris wheel, as well as a kiss at its top, just like Mary Sue and Gary Stu from the popular Devildom Drama, I'm a Powerful Demon But I Fell in Love with a Human?. If you weren't familiar with the references, your heart must have already given out the first time he attempted those moves at you, but since you were aware of where they're from, you couldn't help but think it was cute instead. He must have done his own research to make you happy, but it was a failure on his part to not realise that you would have been happy even if he didn't go out of his way. Then again, it was pretty unfair to complain because anything Mammon did in your own biased eyes was precious and adorable.

"I love you, Mammon." you muttered loud enough for him to hear while you were in line for the Devil's Teacups . He must have heard it because he squeezed your hand tighter as you waited.

There were still times when he persisted on keeping his Gentlemammon™ facade, much like when he declined going to the horror house with you, only for you to find out he wanted to turn you down in the first because he wasn't very good with ghosts (You had to wait for him to defrost after turning into a literal ice sculpture when one of the ghosts grabbed him by the ankle). He also swore not to let you ride "rigorous rides", but finally let his hair down and rode all of your favourite thrill rides with his usual energy and cheer. By the time he realised this, both of you were lining up for the March of Death for the third time. You learned your lesson already and didn't make a fuss about his tiny revelation. Instead, you held him by the arm and smiled at him. "It's fun, isn't it?" Mammon looked shocked at first, but as he sighed and finally replied, you noticed he was back to his usual self. "It certainly is." Your heart immediately deflated at his answer, but more than anything, you couldn't help but be disappointed in yourself.

He had his guard up for the rest of your date and you didn't know why. It seemed like he was forcing himself. The sun was starting to set, and the bus home had been terribly late so you had a lot of time to contemplate while waiting for it to come. Mammon had been silent, looking up at the sky as if searching for something far away. You didn't want him to wander too far so you pulled him back.

"Why have you been acting weird since yesterday. What's wrong?" you couldn't help it. You have finally ran out of patience and you're starting to take his unusual behaviour personally, which you know deep down was unfair especially with how he went out of his way today.

Mammon looked taken aback, frowning once he processed your words. "What do you mean?"

"That. Why…why are you doing that?"

"..."

When he didn't answer, you finally aired out the thoughts weighing you down. "I didn't want to ask you because I wanted you to say it first, I'm sorry. Was it because of what I said last night?"

He called your name, sounding hurt. "Do you not like it?"

You shook your head. "I meant it when I said I don't like it, you know. And I mean it in the best way!" You held him by the hand and placed it close to your chest, hoping your beating heart was already telling. "I prefer the real you."

"Do you really mean that?"

You nodded again. "I even consulted Satan yesterday to undo your curse. You...you were cursed, weren't you?"

"So it was you."

What?

"Mammon,what's going on?" What did he mean by that? You started to worry.

However, despite your repetitions, Mammon didn't answer. Instead, he only looked at you guiltily. At some point, he held your hand back with his trembling ones. He needs time, you thought to yourself and kissed his knuckles, not saying a word. Eventually, your patience was rewarded.

"...I asked the witches to curse me."

You quietly urged him to continue speaking. "I just wanted this date to be perfect, y'know? Don't wanna screw it up. I always do.

Now don't look at me like that. It's unfair. Ya say one thing but mean another. Even you are sick and tired of me, yeah?"

What…

When did you ever say that?!

It hurt. It hurts to think that Mammon ever thought you'd think of him that way. You thought you had been a wonderful lover to him, always showering him with affection and treasuring every moment you shared together. You thought he knew how much he mattered to you, but it turns out you weren't expressing yourself enough and he assumed you were lying to yourself.

"I…I never…"

Crap. Now, you can't even see him clearly. Stupid tears. You felt him wiping your eyes at every tear shed, muttering apologies as he gently held you in his arms. "Shit! I didn't mean to make ya cry. Fuck, this is why I'm such a screw up! If I coulda stayed cursed for a while longer, you'd never cry like this!"

"Mammon…I love you." you repeated those words again and again until you were satisfied. "Didn't I tell you? I love you for who you are and what you are that I have eventually found out on my own."

He didn't speak after what you said, instead he pulled you away from the hug. Despite feeling disheartened, you continued to speak. "Mammon, I don't care how long it takes for you to accept that you are all of the things I tell you. If I can lend you my eyes so you can see what kind of wonderful demon I'm seeing whenever I look at you, I'd do so in a heartbeat. I love you."

You thought this would placate him, but instead, he sneered. "Which part of me do you actually love?"

"Everything!" you answered. "I love that there is so much more to you than meets the eye---I feel thankful every day that I have been privy to see that sweet and sincere side of you, especially in your letter. True, I did not feel that way at first, but the letter, oh Mammon. I fell in love with you upon reading its first passages! No one had ever said such precious words to me in my life, so I wanted to do the same for you."

"In the end, it's always that stupid letter."

"Excuse me?"

"IT'S ALWAYS THAT STUPID FUCKING LETTER!" he shouted, immediately regretting his outburst once he saw the hurt look on your face. However hurt you looked as the truth was spoken to you, he pressed on and twisted the knife even further. If a sweet memory is a calm before your inevitable storm (read: breakup), it was better to at least tell you the truth.

"I can't see it. I can't see that wonderful demon you're always talking about---the one who wrote that letter to you." The sunset dyed his silver hair orange. "I tried seeing him. Maybe it's me who's the problem, y'know? You kept on telling me I'm all these amazin' things, but I just couldn't. All I see is...me."

"Mammon."

"You said I was sincere, but I don't remember bein' sincere at all when I was writin' that stupid thing, so I tried to be even if I was bad at it. You said I was thoughtful so I tried to be, but look at where that thoughtfulness went---tears on your fucking face." he laughed bitterly. "I'm an absolute saint, aren't I?"

"...I really meant it you know?"

" 'Course you do. That's fer sure. But lovin' a scum means he's still scum. You deserve better, and I can't give that to ya."

"But Mammon…I only want you."

Mammon's bitter smile never left his face. "Do ya really? Or do you want the Mammon who wrote you the letter?"

!!!

"See? I gotcha, didn't I?"

You don't understand. What did he get that you didn't? You love Mammon, that was the truth. You did not love him, and weren't even aware of him at first, but the letter he sent to your locker changed that. It was a catalyst for finally seeing him in a completely different light. What was the difference between the Mammon who wrote the letter to the Mammon in front of you in the first place? Aren't they one and the same? Was he joking right now? Because you certainly weren't laughing.

However many thoughts were racing in your mind right now, only three words seem to come out of you.

"I love you," and every utterance only brought more tears in your eyes, afraid of the possibility that Mammon must have been feeling the same way right now.

You were tired. Tired of explaining it to him, tired of reassuring him that he was fine the way he is. Every 'I love you' was like a dagger to your heart, growing conscious of the fact that both of you may feel the same way, but both of your feelings weren't reaching each other at all.

In your exasperation, you couldn't help but finally say,

"I don't want this anymore."

You wondered where it all went wrong.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

*beep!*

"Get on first. I'll catch up with ya."

"...okay."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

You didn't know how you were able to get home that night. You couldn't even remember the people you spoke to before you went back to your room. The side of your bed was empty of Mammon as well as your heart.

You didn't realise that you hurt him. You might have meant well and were even truthful of your affections for him, but the truth still laid there, mocking you in the face--you were idealising him. You thought you knew him by a few reads of the scented passages of his letter, that you refused to see him for who he really is. Oh, what a hypocrite you are.

His question continued to linger in your mind as you retrieved the said letter from your drawer. You didn't have the heart to read what it says anymore.

Why does it matter? It's all over.

Thinking in that vein, you sighted the gas lamp near your table and started entertaining darker thoughts.

Why not just forget about everything?

[ What will you do? ]

💌Burn the letter

💌Hesitate

💌masterlist

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me cyoa #interactive fiction #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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heyyyharry · 6 years ago

Text

Father’s Day

(from ‘Couple in Flat 102’)

…in which Y/N finally meets Harry’s dad, who comes with another surprise.

I AM BACK WITH THE COUPLE WE LOVE! Sorry for the drought, I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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When Harry broke the news to his fiancé, she was sitting in the bathtub with music blasting from the phone she put on the marble sink. He was actually surprised she still brought her phone with her into the bathroom after having dropped it in the tub twice or so. But that wasn't a problem compared to what he wanted to say.

"Honey!" He turned the music off, trying to catch his breath and leaving her startled. "We're going to meet my dad tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, he quickly walked over to sit on the edge of the tub, intense green eyes staring into hers as he held her face between his two hands.

"I'm so sorry, love."

"Sorry? Why?" She grabbed his wrists, raising an eyebrow. "That's actually great! It's Father's day tomorrow right? I was gonna ask you if—"

"Idon'tthinkyou'regonnalikemydad!"

"What?"

"I—" He shut his eyes, releasing the heaviest sigh she'd ever heard. "I don't...think you're gonna like my dad."

There was a reason Harry rarely talked about his father. Devlin Styles had always been talked about. The man had a big reputation in the business industry; therefore Harry had to lie too many times at job interviews that they weren't father and son. Devlin owned a corporation based in San Francisco, married again to another rich woman and they had two young daughters whom Harry had never seen since his high school graduation. The last time he had met the man in person was a few days before he graduated from university. But he had never told Y/N about it because he thought it wasn't important anyway.

Harry grew up with his mum so it was obvious that he loved Anne way much more. But that didn't mean he hated Devlin for never sticking around. He knew his old man lived too far away and was always too busy to pay them a visit. But Devlin still called to talk to his children whenever he got time. He'd paid most of Harry's tuition fees during his academic years and taught Harry everything he needed to know in order to succeed in the business world. So the young man always had high respect for his father. The only problem was that Devlin had never been a soft dad. No, his love was the toughest kind of fatherly love Harry had ever seen. He assumed his old man had run a corporation for too long so he treated his children no different from his favorite employees. But Devlin Styles had always been known for being one of the most hard-to-please bosses.

When Harry told Devlin he was dating Y/N, the father wasn't impressed by her background but he didn't say anything about it. He had assumed the kids were young and wouldn't last more than a couple months. But those couple months had soon turned to years, and now they were already engaged. Harry was scared shitless when he video called his dad to break the news of his engagement. He was afraid Devlin would disapprove. Strangely however, the man didn't even try to talk his son out of it. Instead he happily invited them both out of lunch when he arrived in London on Father's Day.

"No, H, this is good! mean, your dad finally asked to see me. That's a big step."

Y/N seemed too excited, which wasn't a good thing, because the more thrilled she was to see his father, the more disappointed she would get.

"He's the best salesman I've ever known, love. He's a great liar. You'll never know what he's actually thinking."

The girl chuckled at her future husband, thinking he was overthinking. "He's still your dad."

"Yeah, so I know him better than you." Harry sighed as he popped the soap bubble on her bare shoulder. "I don't want him to scare you. You might not even want to marry me after meeting him."

"I'm marrying you not your dad." Y/N rolled her eyes, kissing the dry patch on the back of his hand before bringing it back to her cheek. "And if we're gonna be husband and wife I'm gonna have to face him eventually, even if he hates me. But don't worry. I'm good at making people love me."

Harry couldn't argue with that. She was very lovable and he didn't say it because she was going to be his wife. She had made someone like him and her grumpy boss Jack fall head over heels for her. Maybe she could make it on his father's good list. He really hoped his optimism didn't fail him this time.

"Okay.." He nodded. "I'll confirm with his assistant than."

That reply made the girl laugh.

"I'm serious," he said with a straight face, which killed off her beam instantly. "I have to email her and everything."

"Oh..." She swallowed hard and that reaction made him chuckle.

Kissing her on the lips, Harry marched to the bathroom door where he paused and turned to ask her one last time if she still wanted to go. The answer he received was still a solid yes. With a smile, he thought, how could anyone not love this woman?

Y/N knew Harry from inside out, more than she knew herself sometimes. She could tell when something was bothering him even though he didn't want to admit that it was. So no matter how much he tried to cover up the fact that he was nervous to meet his own father, he still couldn't hide it from her. They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early because Harry had said his father hated tardy people. It felt more like a business meeting than a family one, but Y/N didn't want to put more pressure on Harry by telling him so.

The waiter returned with a menu, and Harry ordered two glasses of house white while they waited for the other Styles. From her seat Y/N had a view of the entrance, only a few families came and left. After all, it was Father's Day. She shifted in her seat, checking her watch before applying another coat to her already pink lips. With nothing else to do she paid attention to the ambient music for a few moments, guessing the words of the song she'd never heard before. Harry kept perusing the menu, probably to hide the fact that he kept fidgeting with the napkin to calm his own nerves. So Y/N thought she should find something to distract him.

"Hey, baby."

She squeezed his hand, giving him a smile and nodded her head towards a table nearby where sat a happy family of four. The husband over there was listening to his wife telling him about something seemingly exciting. It might be a story about a vacation they had always dreamed of, or just her finally finding the motivation to take up cooking classes again; whatever it was, you could see in the look of his eyes that he was besotted with his woman. Their two children were the most beautiful babies Y/N had ever seen, both were just laughing while toying with the vegetables on their plates instead of trying to disturb their parents from their ongoing conversation.

"That's gonna be us in a couple of years," Y/N said to Harry, resulting in a smile on his handsome face. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and told her their babies were gonna be more beautiful. Shifting his eyes a bit to the left, Harry had his sight fixed on a table in the far corner as he pointed out for her to see.

"That's gonna be Layla and Niall," he said, holding back a chuckle.

Y/N nearly choked on her water when she saw the family her fiancé was referring to. The wife was nagging the husband probably for something he'd done to make their baby cry. The poor man was still trying to calm the little one, and admittedly she could imagine Niall in his position.

"But don't tell Layla." Harry laughed. "She's gonna strangle me."

The engaged couple tried to compress their laughter, like two young kids at the back of the class finding something funny but not wanting to draw to much attention to them. But the lighthearted moment didn't last for too long. Soon after that, Devlin Styles arrived.

The man was dressed in a dark blue suit and a silk tie, like he was on his way to see a client and not just there for lunch with his son and daughter-in-law. With a phone in hand, he followed a waiter towards their table, dimples indented on his face as he finally spotted Harry. Y/N had seen photos of him before, had Harry not shown them to her, she still could have googled the name and got tons of results. For a man nearly fifty-five, he couldn't have looked better in real life, exactly how Y/N had imagined Harry would look like when he grew old. Unlike her own father, Devlin was in such a good shape. Neither the grey strands nor the wrinkles could hide the fact that the man was good-looking. His green eyes shone like two emeralds as well, but she failed to see the softness in them like she did in Harry's.

"Harry, kid. Long time no see! How are you?"

"I'm great, dad. How are you?"

Y/N observed when her future husband got up to hug his dad. The hug was rather awkward, it wasn't one you would give someone in the family, it was more hugging for the sake of it. But Y/N chose not to say a word about that as she put on a smile and introduced herself while shaking his hand.

"So nice to finally meet you, Miss. Y/L/N."

"You can call me Y/N."

There was an awkward pause as he stared at her like she'd just said something dumb. In those two seconds, she felt like she was just one word away from the end of the world. But Devlin quickly threw on another smile and asked both her and Harry to sit down, completely ignoring the previous thing she'd said.

"Let's order! I'm starving!" Harry broke the awkward silence as he reached for the menu, yet Devlin stopped him at once.

"Let's wait a bit more," the father said.

"Are we expecting someone else?" Harry asked, exchanging looks of confusion with Y/N.

Devlin didn't even have to answer that question. The second Harry had finished it, both him and his fiancé could pick out the pretty blonde in the spaghetti strap dress who followed another group of customers into the restaurant. Growing up seeing that face, how could Harry possibly forget?

"Ollie?!"

He could barely say that name without making it heavy with breath. Olivia stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that he and Y/N were also sitting at the table. Apparently, she didn't know that they were gonna be there, so Harry assumed his own father had something to do with it.

When Olivia said goodbye to him in Cheshire, he didn't expect that they would ever meet again. So the last thing he would've thought was for them to run into each other in a situation like this. But Olivia didn't come alone. It wasn't too long until she had joined them at the table that Thomas Hase, her father, showed up. This man had been Devlin's business partners for years, and Harry should've known better than to believe the purpose of that lunch was for his father to get to know Y/N. It was never that simple when it came to Devlin Styles. He didn't know what the man was up to, but he was definitely up to something; and Olivia, just like him, just like Y/N, was a piece in this chess game.

"What is happening, H? Why are they here?" Y/N whispered into his ear, her voice was frantic and he knew for sure she was freaking out. So he told her everything was fine and pulled her chair closer to his so he could wrap an arm around her to the other three's surprise. When he looked up and met the eyes of Olivia who gave him an apologetic grin, he smiled back. But the feeling wasn't like the last time he saw her. This time, it was like they were just strangers to each other.

The lunch had a quite a good start as Devlin explained that since it was Father's Day and the Hases were out celebrating as well, he thought it might be fun to get together, for Harry and Olivia to meet again, and also for Harry to show off his new fiancé; but Harry knew only half of it was the truth. He didn't believe in coincidence when it came to his father. With Devlin, everything was a part of his plan, no matter how small.

The thing that Harry found most bizarre besides the fact that Olivia was there, was the fact that she was there with her father. Before saying her first goodbye to Harry and disappearing for years, Olivia had mentioned more than once that her parents hadn't been living together. Mr. and Mrs. Hase were still married at the time, but that poor woman had decided to just turn a blind eye to whoever her husband was sleeping with. So Harry had admired Olivia for how strong she'd been. Nobody knew a broken family better than her. He guessed that was why she'd become a bird who loved to fly from one place to another with fear of being tied down. She had also sworn to Harry that she would never forgive Thomas for abandoning her mother. So her choosing a long term job to work for the man she loathed just didn't make any sense.

As Harry was trying to figure out a way to ask Olivia about why she'd come back to England, the topic had been changed to Y/N's job. She was telling everyone at the table about what she was doing, with the same spark in her eyes whenever she talked about the things she loved. Harry could read the looks on the older men's faces to realize they still didn't take her seriously, and it drove him mad. If it wasn't his love that was talking, he would just interrupt to say something about it.

"Oh, you work with Coleman, right?" Devlin asked, squinting his eyes as if to recall meeting Jack Coleman before.

"Yes, sir."

"Great kid. Great visionary. I don't know why you're bothered to stay with Harry and not someone like that guy."

"Dad," Harry grumbled, clearly unamused, but his father only laughed.

"What? I'm telling the truth."

"Harry, your father is just teasing you," said Thomas as he patted his old friend on the back, pointing to Olivia who had been trying her best to stay out of the conversation. "I do that to Livy all the time and she always reacts the same as you."

"Remember when they were kids and used to have sleepovers every week," Devlin joined in. "You actually had to warn Anne to keep an eye on these naughty children so that they couldn't do the things they shouldn't."

"Dad!" Both Harry and Olivia shouted at the same time, causing people from the tables behind turn their heads in their direction.

"We're just reminiscing about the past, dear." The older Styles shook his head, pointing to his son and Olivia with the fork in his hand. "We actually thought you two would get married someday."

"But it's never gonna happen." It didn't take a genius to realize how annoyed Harry was this time. "I'm engaged and you're here to get to know Y/N, remember?"

"Fair." Devlin wiped his mouth and raised both eyebrows as he suggested, "so Miss Y/L/N should come with Thomas and I for a coffee later, you and Livy can catch up with each other alone."

Y/N opened her mouth to speak for herself, but Harry didn't want to wait for a reaction from his woman so he could stand up for her. He squeezed her shoulder and asserted, "we're not going anywhere without each other."

"A few years into marriage you're gonna regret saying that, kid."

That sentence was the final straw for both Harry and Y/N, yet he didn't get to say the last word. She stood up, shrugging away his hand and excusing herself from the table immediately.

It wasn't until Y/N was alone, pondering in the hallway at the very back of the restaurant, that she finally started to feel terrible for walking away. She was pacing back in forth in guilt. It was reasonable for her to not want to stay at the table, since those two men were pushing her to her limits, but she wasn't there for them, she was there for Harry. And by leaving him sitting there like a fool, she had probably failed to be a good wife. So the second she saw his face as he walked through the doorway to look for her, she ran back to him and said they should both head back to their seats.

Harry didn't wait for her to finish. He grabbed her face, and without a pause, leaned down to kiss her warm lips. As they broke apart, taking shallow breaths, forehead against one another, he stroked her cheeks and told her, "let's go home."

"Go home?" She furrowed her brows. "We haven't finished lunch with your dad yet."

"But there's not only my dad, and he was being mean to you anyway," he said with a sigh. "I'm so sorry, love. I should never have asked you to come."

"It's fine. I—"

"Come on." Once again, he interrupted her with another kiss. Smiling, he said, "we can get ice cream on our way home, yeah?"

"Okay..." She nodded, grinning from ear to ear. The couple held hands and were about to walk back inside, but the second they turned around, his father was already standing at the entrance. There were just the three of them in that narrow hallway and a few restaurant staff walking back and forth. Devlin Styles clearly wasn't happy with how the lunch had turned out. He stood there, hands in his pockets, and let the silence remain for a couple seconds more before he told Harry they needed to talk.

"Sorry, dad. We gotta go."

"Five minutes." Devlin raised his right palm. Harry was about to say something else, not wanting to have a private conversation, but it was Y/N who persuaded him to.

"Go talk to your father." She tugged on his arm and kissed his cheek. "It's fine. I can wait five minutes."

"Okay," he finally said as he turned back to her, holding her shoulders. "Go and wait for me outside. Five minutes and we'll go."

She gave him a smile and a simple nod, then said goodbye to his father before walking away. But all she received from the man was an indifferent glance and utter silence. His green eyes were still stone-cold.

"Hey," Olivia said with a beam when Y/N returned to the table and saw only her sitting there. The blonde said that her father had just received a work call and left without telling her why. She didn't want everyone to return to an empty table so she stayed for a bit more.

"Trouble with Devlin?" She asked as Y/N took her seat and gulped her champagne all at once.

"He hates me," she said, hearing a slight laugh from Olivia.

"He doesn't hate you."

"You probably can't see it because he likes you."

"Oh, trust me, honey. He doesn't," the blonde scoffed, eyes widened as she reached for the bottle in the middle of the table and poured herself another full glass. "He doesn't like my dad either."

"Then why—"

"He wants to acquire my family's business, and my dad's considering selling it to my cousin, because he only wants to sell it to my family."

"So Devlin wants Harry to become your family..."

"Guess so." Olivia rolled her eyes and picked up her half-emptied glass, a smirk spread across her well-defined face. "I was told it was gonna be a father-daughter lunch so I was just as shocked as you were."

"Why are you—"

"Working for my dad?" The blonde chuckled. "Well, I got into some trouble in Taiwan and I had no other choice but to call him for help. He only agreed if I returned the favor by coming back to England to work for him. So here I am. Though my boss is kind of an asshole, it's not really a bad job and I need the money anyway." Then she sighed and drank the rest of what she'd got left, pointing a finger to Y/N. "Consider yourself lucky," she said.

"Why?" Y/N chuckled, completely bemused.

"Because you're free to do whatever you want, got a future husband who would do anything for you." Olivia gave her a shrug, twitching her mouth. "I mean, not everyone will give up an entire empire for the one he loves."

"Wait, what?" Y/N's eyes went round in reaction to the words she'd just heard.

"You mean you didn't know?" Olivia scrunched up her face. "Harry was meant to take over Devlin's company. That's why he went to business school in the first place. But he turned down the offer right before graduation because of you. If he'd taken the job, he would've had to move to San Francisco, but he chose you. Devlin and him got into a very big fight about it and hadn't spoken again until he announced the engagement."

Then she took a once-over at the girl who was too startled to speak. "Trust me," she assured. "My dad has ears everywhere."

"Don't walk away from me, Harry." Those words managed to keep Harry standing still, but it didn't change his decision to walk away from the conversation. He was already devastated to find out the true purpose of their meeting today, and he couldn't bare listening to another one of his father's mean words about the girl he chose to marry.

"I have nothing else to say to you," he swung his arms, laughing wryly. "I've respected you my whole life, and you just cannot do the same to me, nor to the woman I love." He paused to suck in a breath, hands in his pockets as he carried on, "I was so happy to finally have your approval but it turns out I'm only a part of your fucked up plan for a business acquisition?! Are you even my father?"

"You think I'm doing this for me? I'm doing this for you as well, you're being blind." Devlin was starting to lose his patience. "If you marry Olivia, you get to be a CEO of your old man's enterprise and have the Hases in the palm of your hand. Love is stupid anyway. It won't matter in couple years, kid."

"Yeah." Harry nodded fast, exhaling as he said, "you told me that when I was a kid. I remember. I grew up thinking it was true, that love was stupid and family was the only important thing. But everything's changed. I'm twenty four years old and I'm marrying my best friend, whom I love. She matters to me, more than anything in the world, right now more than you. I would die for her without a second thought." Harry heaved a sigh as his expression hardened. "But you were right about one thing, family is important. That's why I'm sorry, but I cannot choose money over my family."

Devlin was at a loss for words as he stood there with both hands on his hips, gawking at the boy he'd raised. It took him a moment to finally speak.

"I didn't put you into a business school so you could be this short-sighted."

"Then let me be." Harry shrugged. "It's my life, I don't care what you think. Are you gonna fire me from being your son?"

"I wish I could." When those four words were spoken, both men knew their relationship would never be the same.

"I'm gonna get back to my wife. Goodbye and...Happy Father's Day, dad," Harry said at last, eyes on his feet as he walked back to the doorway, there he paused and turned around one last time. "Don't worry," he said. "You're not invited to our wedding anymore."

Harry headed back to the table where he found Y/N chatting with Olivia. Right now, the other girl was the least of his concern, he didn't even say a single word to her as he took his lover's hand and told her they could now go home. He was in a hurry to leave so he didn't really paid attention to her facial expression, but he noticed she was awfully quiet.

It wasn't until they had both got into his car and he was about to start the engine, that she decided to break the silence.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were supposed to take over your dad's company?"

Her question left him speechless for a second. Then he quickly realized Olivia might have told her something when he wasn't there.

"I didn't think it was important," he replied shortly. "I turned it down anyway."

"Because of me?"

"No, because of me. I wanted to stay in London with you."

"You could've had it all Harry."

Her strange attitude really got on his nerves. He didn't get into a big fight with his father to come out and hear her say the same things. Sadness clouded his features as he turned to her and asked, "are you implying that I should leave you and be with Olivia? Is that what you want? For me to live the life my dad wants me to?"

The girl's expression dulled as she swallowed and slowly shook her head no, eyes on her lap instead of him.

"Then why are we talking about this, Y/N?"

"Because I don't want you to throw away such opportunity for me," she finally admitted. "What if...What if our future isn't what we expect? What if we turn into those fighting parents instead? I don't want you to look back a few years later and regret choosing me over a great career. You wouldn't have to drive a car that breaks down every once in a while. You could have a big house and you wouldn't even have to take care of your own pets."

"First off, I love my car and I love taking care of Treasure, but most importantly, I love you." He cupped her face with one hand so she would look at him. "I don't need anything to be different. I can still have a great career without my dad. One day I'm gonna get you your own car with my own money."

"I can't drive."

The sound of her giggle eased his mind because he hated when they fought even if it was for just a minute or even less. "And a personal driver," he corrected himself, earning another big smile from her. "Don't ever doubt my feelings for you, okay? No matter how much I tell you I love you—"

"—you always love me more than that," she finished his sentence before leaning in and kissing him full on the mouth.

"Good girl." He pinched her cheek, eyes sparked with joy.

There was a surprise waiting for him back home. As soon as they arrived at their flat, she made him wait on the couch and hurried into the kitchen, telling him to sit there with his eyes shut tight and no peeking. Anticipation was killing Harry but he did as he was told and waited for her to come back and tell him that he could now take a look.

"Ta-da!" She shouted out, holding up a chocolate cake before his eyes and their cat Treasure was in her lap, meowing at him. "Happy Father's Day!"

He looked at her funny, so she said, "you're Treasure's father, and the future father of my babies so it's also your day."

"Wow." He was stunned, but at the same time feeling ecstatic. He kissed her on the cheek and mumbled a tender "thank you" as he was still a little bit shy, yet as he assumed that was it for her surprise, she put the cake down on the coffee table and admitted that there was more.

"It's already June," she began while fidgeting. "And if it wasn't for my brother we might have been married by now. But Darren has been recovering fast and he's gonna leave the hospital next week. His divorce with Emily is pretty much settled, they're meeting their lawyer at the end of the month to finish it at once."

Harry plastered a smile on his face as he heard her. "So you're saying..."

"Yes." Her smile grew. "Let's get married!"

"Now?"

The way his mouth fell open had her dying of laughter.

"Next week," she finally said. "Is it okay?"

"Y-Yeah. It's definitely okay. It's great. Perfect!" He nodded so fast he thought his head was about to fall off. Holding her by the hips, he dragged her and their cat to his lap and started showering her face with dainty kisses. Her giggles rang through his ears making his heart flutter. "I know I said I could wait and all but it's been torturing."

"Soon, husband." Her eyebrow rose, leaving a Cheshire Cat grin on his gorgeous face that she loved. But it only took a couple seconds for her smile to slip as she said to him, "I'm sorry your father's not gonna be at our wedding."

"It's okay." He sighed, still the beam remained. "Let's not think about that and be happy for us, yeah?"

She snorted, looking down at Treasure while petting her. "You know, when we first started dating I thought if one of parents wasn't gonna be at our wedding it would be my mum."

"When we first started dating?! Woman, you've been fantasizing about making me your husband since day one?"

Y/N cracked a smile, brushing the strand that tumbled in front of his face out of the way so she could kiss his forehead. "Believe it or not, I've known that you're my person since day one."

Hearing just that made his heart full.

"Believe it or not," he said after a moment of silence, staring into her eyes. "So have I."

#flatmate!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #boyfriend!harry #harry styles fanfictions

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 years ago

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The Nazis and your privacy

Roderick Miller:

The nonprofit organization to which I belong recently put the personal data of around 410,000 people on the internet, connected to interactive street maps of where they lived. The data includes their full names, date and place of birth, known residential address, and often includes their professions and arrest records, sometimes even information about mental or physical handicaps. It also lists whether any of their grandparents were Jewish.

How would you feel if somebody published your personal data on the internet along the same lines? The website described above is based on the personal data of victims of Nazi persecution and is part of a memorialization project. But given that much of personal data is probably available on a number of corporate servers to which the government could have unrestricted access, what is to stop this data from being misused? Even if the information was never made public, how would your personal data be exploited if a right-wing Christian extremist government were to take power in the United States? Is it so far-fetched to imagine such personal data exploitation in a Handmaid’s Tale future?

The Nazi German government conducted a census on 17 May 1939 in which a special “supplementary card” was included, where every person had to list if each of their four grandparents was Jewish or not. In the 1980s, a census was conducted in West Germany that led to a lot of resistance from the left, including massive street demonstrations. Several academic works about the planned 1980s census were published at the time, in which the thesis was put forth that the Nazis misused the 1939 census data to create the deportation lists to send the Jews to concentration camps and their subsequent deaths. The resistance to the 1980s census led to its being delayed from the original date of 1981 until they finally managed, in 1987, to meet the criteria put forth by a decision of a 1983 German Supreme Court which severely limited the extent to which the private data of individuals could be used.

Later research, however, proved that although the Nazis did, in the end, misuse the 1939 census data, in that they sent the “supplementary cards” of people with Jewish grandparents to the local police (ie Gestapo) registration offices throughout Germany, this only happened in late 1941 and 1942. Not only were the deportations already in full operation by this point, but by this time the data on the “supplementary cards” was largely no longer valid — many Jews had already been deported, and most of those who remained had been forced in the interim to move into smaller, crowded apartments, so-called “Jew houses.”

The 1939 census data was not needed to create deportation lists by 1941/1942 anyway, since the Jewish communities had been forced by the Gestapo to make card indexes of all known Jewish people. These card indexes — it was a typical Nazi tactic to force the people they were persecuting to directly assist in their own persecution — were usually the basis of the deportation lists. In some cases, the Jewish community was itself forced to write the deportation lists and decide who could remain and who got on the train.

Today we don’t need the Gestapo to force us to give up our personal data, we offer it up voluntarily to social media like Facebook or major US government contractors for the military and intelligence communities like Google. Many people offer their data up to maintain their social presence on the internet or merely for convenience. The standard reply to this is often “I don’t have anything to hide,” but that’s based upon the assumption of a government that respects personal privacy and doesn’t arrest people based on their political opinions, sexual preferences, or lifestyle choices.

If the Nazis had had access to personal data the same way that these corporate conglomerates do today, there would likely have been very few survivors of the persecution of people for their race, political stance, sexual preference or for the fact that they were somehow seen as physically or mentally handicapped. Add CCTV video surveillance and facial recognition software to the mix and there would have been next to no survivors. This isn’t some kind of alternate reality conjecture á la Philip K. Dick’s Man in the High Castle, however. The abuse of data by the NSA has already shown what is possible in a supposedly constitutional democracy, and the slow slide of the US government into new forms of corruption in the last decades, culminating in the 2016 election of Donald Trump as president, leaves a bleak vision of a future that eclipses even the worst fictional visions of dystopia.

One of the main problems is that we don’t expect or receive protection of our personal data by default, and though the EU has already created such laws, as it stands right now you need to take extra steps yourself to reduce the amount of your data that can be exploited: quit Facebook; reduce using Google insofar as it’s possible (ie no email accounts); use browsers like Epic that don’t store your data, automatically delete all cookies and trackers, and hide your geolocation with a built-in VPN. But unless most of the population takes this step, which is very unlikely, or laws are put into place to guarantee personal data privacy by default instead of with a fair amount of extra effort, then most of the population is in the position to be commercially exploited and maybe, depending on how things go in our so-called constitutional democracies, persecuted in ways they can’t yet imagine.

I deal with Nazi history on a daily basis, and that doesn’t make it any easier to read the daily news. I look around the streets of Berlin, where I live, and the memories of the past are omnipresent in the places where victims of the Nazis once lived, loved, and worked. My distinction between past, present and future is getting more and more blurred, and the further we allow ourselves to offer up our personal data to institutions whose use of that data is out of our control and whose abuse of that data seems to increase every day, the less this distinction between past, present and future seems to become.

Roderick Miller is a US-born historian living in Berlin and the chairman of the nonprofit organization Tracing the Past, whose online project Mapping the Lives ties personal biographies of those persecuted by the Nazi regime with interactive street maps.

https://boingboing.net/2019/01/21/census-and-genocide.html

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lovelybones81 · 5 years ago

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Unthinkable *updated 9/3*

Summary: Seven years, three movies, two people, one story. But before they can get their happily ever after, Sebastian Stan and Camille Solis must learn to trust in each other and in themselves, before allowing the unthinkable to happen.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Language, Angst, mental health, WOC lead character

Rating: NC-17

Note: I know it’s been a long time, my personal life got in the way. I’m trying to get back to writing because its the only thing that keeps my brain from running. Anyway- I hope I can make it up with this. It’s pretty long! xoxoxo Also if anyone is interested, I also have a wattpad! Link below.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/115980135-unthinkable

Chapter 26 Without You

July 2011

The Hollywood Roosevelt, World Premiere of Captain America: The First Avenger

Sebastian’s eyes shot open at the sound of knocking. Groaning he rolled over in the bed and reached for his phone. He grimaced when he realized he had no missed calls or messages. The knock got louder, he grunted and pushed himself up with his arms. “I’m fucking coming!” he snapped, startled by the tone of his voice. He tossed his phone unto the mattress and stumbled to the front door, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before he swung it open.

His co-stars Chris Evans and Hayley Atwell stood on the other side of the door with huge smiles. Hayley spoke first. “Hi darling- were you napping?”

He glared but took a step back to let them both into his hotel suite. He grumbled under his breath and shut the door behind them, running his fingers through his messy hair. “Does it look like I’ve been sleeping?” plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Well aren’t we in a lovely mood.” Hayley badgered, sitting down on the couch across from him.

“We’ve been doing 3 days of nonstop press junket in a small room- after a while it takes a toll answering the same questions over and over.” He responded and watched Chris sit next to Hayley.

“Bro-you act as we aren’t doing them with you.” Chris stated, speaking up for the first time and tossed one of the decorative pillows in Sebastian’s direction.

Sebastian was quick catching it and pushed it behind him to use for support. “I know.” He uttered and realized he might be overreacting just a bit.

Chris was right of course, they were all in this together. They had been doing press/media junkets nonstop for the last 72 hours at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. They had seen and talked to so many press people he couldn’t keep it straight. He had done press for movies before, but never to this extreme. He knew this was a big deal-but hadn’t truly comprehended how big until this week. It was a bit nerve wracking, especially since the world premiere for the movie was set for later on that night.

They had been up since 5 in the morning, doing the last bit of interviews and he was exhausted. He was glad to have the rest of the afternoon off before having to get ready for later. “What are you two doing up here anyway? I thought you were going to lunch?” He asked with a yawn.

After their last interview, they had all gone their separate ways. Sebastian had decided to go back to his to room and try to rest before his mother arrived from New York.

“We are. We just figured we’d drag your sorry ass to join us.” Chris replied with half a smirk.

“As sweet as that invitation was-.” Sebastian said sarcastically and with a face. “I’m still waiting on my mother to get here.” Blindly reaching behind him to grip his phone.

“I thought you said the flight got delayed and she wasn’t going to be here until right before we headed to the red carpet?” Chris asked.

Sebastian felt a hint of annoyance at how well Chris paid attention. “Yeah, so?”

“Sooo…” Hayley cut in with a knowing look. “We know you haven’t eaten.”

With a shake of his head he responded. “Not really hungry.” And looked back down at his phone, his heart sinking a bit at the blank screen. He tossed the phone next to him again and lifted his gaze back up to find both Chris and Hayley staring intently at him. “What?”

“You tell us.” Hayley pushed with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve been mopey all morning.” She observed.

Sebastian opened his mouth and then shut it. Unsure of how to answer. He knew he’d been moody, he just couldn’t pinpoint why. “Just tired.” He finally mumbled and watched from the corner of his eye as both of his friends shared a look. “If I go, will you two stop looking at me with pity?” he asked at the same time rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re the one with the sad puppy eyes.”

He heard Chris snort next to Hayley and Sebastian glared. Chris’ face quickly became somber, but there was still a hint of a smile on his features. Subconsciously he peered back down toward his phone. But quickly focused his attention back on Hayley when she spoke up again.

“Alright- whose phone call or message are you waiting on?” she probed. “Is it that girl-?” She turned to Chris. “What’s her name again?” Snapping her fingers as if doing so would help her remember.

“Dianna.” Chris answered automatically.

Sebastian clinched his jaw in displeasure, but didn’t say a word.

Hayley continued, her eyes wide. “Is she the one you’re bringing tonight?”

“You know what? I can’t wait until tonight- because that means I no longer have to deal with the both of you.” Sebastian stated cynically, but also made sure to avoid answering Hayley’s question.

Chris rolled his eyes before gazing back to Hayley with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Notice how he’s avoiding the question.” He mused.

“Oh c’mon darling, we know you’ve been seeing her.” Hayley stated and pushed herself up from the couch and made her way toward Sebastian. Plopping down next him, she looped her arm through his. “And since you’re avoiding it-I guess we will be seeing her later.”

He scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business- but the only person I’m bringing tonight- is my mother.” And that was the truth.

“Then what’s going with you and Dianna?” she pushed, playfully elbowing him.

“Nothing. We’ve gone out on one date.” His blurted out without thinking. Quickly regretting the fact he shared any dating information with Hayley. In his defense it had been brought up in casual conversation and mentioned it without realizing it.

“Is she going to be at the after party?” Chris asked.

“No.” Sebastian answered. “She’s not even in LA right now.” Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut again?

“What? This is big deal and she isn’t here to support you?” Hayley gaped.

“It’s not like she’s my girlfriend. We’ve literally gone out on one date. The other times we’ve been around other people.” He muttered annoyed. “And- she did send a text to wish me good luck.” He defended. “Unlike some other people…” he mumbled under his breath, his heart aching all of a sudden.

“Ahh.” Chris said knowingly. “Now it makes sense.”

“What does?” Hayley asked, giving Sebastian a long look.

“Nothing.” Sebastian said quickly, as he gave Chris a warning look.

“No contact with her yet?” Chris asked.

Sebastian gave a slight shake of his head and lifted himself up off the bed, reaching for Hayley’s arm instead, hoping they were done with this conversation. “C’mon Hayles-.”

“Wait-no. What I am missing here?” she asked, looking between both men.

Chris shrugged and stood up, not saying a word. The room was silent for a few minutes, as Sebastian searched for his shoes and fidgeted with his cell phone. Fine, so maybe he could pinpoint why he hadn’t been in the best mood all morning. But he didn’t want to say it out loud, because he was sure it sounded ridiculous.

He cleared his throat. “Are we going to go…?”

“No.” Hayley declared. “Not until I figure out what’s going on. Because obviously it’s ruining today.”

Sebastian frowned down at her, his jaw set, but did not answer.

“Who isn’t here, but should be?” Chris asked slowly.

Hayley scrunched up her nose in concentration, evident she was racking her brain. After a few moments, her eyes widen and looked back up at Sebastian. “It’s about a 20 hour difference.” Looking down at her wrist watch. “She’s probably just now getting up.” She defended. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t heard from her either. I sent her a text this morning, but I haven’t gotten a response since we spoke last night-our time of course.”

Sebastian felt his heart sink at Hayley’s words. He hadn’t heard from Camille in 4 days. She had told him, she was going to be working long hours during the weekend and probably wouldn’t be able to talk much. “I haven’t heard from her since Thursday afternoon. It’s Monday.” Sebastian muffled, deciding to just give in and talk about it. It was taking more energy to not say anything.

She had been gone for over 4 months now and they had kept in contact throughout that time, whether it was text/email or even video chatting. Their schedules were so busy that it was hard at times, especially with the time difference- but they had managed. The vow to keep their hands to themselves was working wonders since they were literally thousands of miles apart. It wasn’t a topic they discussed when they did talk, it didn’t seem necessary. They both knew were things stood and both were okay with it…

Or at least that’s what Sebastian hoped. They hadn’t discussed the boundaries of sharing with each other if they decided to see other people, but figured honesty was the best policy, until they talked about it. That’s why he had made the decision to mention it the last time they spoke about his date.

His heartbeat picked up at the thought. What if that’s why she hadn’t responded? He ran back through their conversation from Thursday in his head. She hadn’t acted as if it bother her, especially when he told her it was a date that was set up by friends. If there was one thing he had come to learn about Camille-was her lack of a poker face.

But what if he was wrong?

“C’mon man, we’ve been there. Long days, turning into longer nights.” Chris tried to reason as he rubbed his hand over his beard.

Sebastian knew Chris was right, but he couldn’t help but feel the anxiety that maybe she was upset with him. Especially if she had been in contact with Hayley the day before.

He was trying to act as if it was not a big deal, since no one, besides her sister, wife and Charles knew about what had happened between them in Big Sur and even then, they hadn’t confirmed anything.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair tensely. “Yeah...” Was all he uttered and turned to Hayley. “You know what? I’ am hungry now.” He stated with a small smile. Hoping his friends would get the hint and drop the subject.

Hayley smiled back and looped her arm through his, picking up that he was done talking about it. “Good, let’s go. I’m starving.”

***

Sebastian tossed the cigarette bud into the trash can at the same time he stepped back into his suite after being out in the balcony. He was about to reach for his third cigarette when his phone vibrated on the bed. He peered over at it, deciding to ignore it and grabbed the lighter instead. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, especially when in a few hours he was going to be surrounded by a hundred of them. The phone stopped vibrating-but it was only for a second before it started back up again. It vibrated a few more times, then stopped.

After a few seconds, the phone beeped. Whoever it was had left a voicemail. He knew it wasn’t his mother, she had sent a message right before he sat down to lunch with Chris and Hayley, letting him know she was about to board the plane. Letting out a dejected sigh, he bend down and grasped the phone and scowled. It wasn’t a voicemail- it was a text- from Charles. He rolled his eyes even before reading the message.

Charles: Answer the damn phone.

Sebastian rolled his eyes again, ready to toss the phone back on the bed when it vibrated in his hand, Charles name blinking back at him. He’s fingers were slow to pick up the call, it stopped. But before Sebastian even thought about putting it back down, another text came through.

Charles: I’ll just keep calling until you answer.

And that’s exactly what he did. The phone rang again. Sebastian knew better than to fight this. He groaned and put the phone to his ear. “What’s so urgent?” he grumbled.

Charles chuckled dryly. “Well aren’t you in a good mood this afternoon.” Sebastian made a face even though his best friend couldn’t see it. “What stick is up your ass?” he added.

“What do you want Charles?” Sebastian demanded, avoiding the question.

His best friend let out a dramatic sigh. “I just needed to know what time I should get to the hotel later.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, and let out a breath through his nose. “Was that really your emergency?” If he knew Charles was going to be acting weird, he would not have invited him to the premiere.

“Oh no.” Charles stated casually. Then there was a long pause.

“Charles!” Sebastian exclaimed impatiently after about 30 seconds of neither one speaking.

“Hmm?” Charles answered obviously distracted.

“I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Dude, calm down.” Charles ordered steadily. “I need you to go open the door.” He added. Sebastian removed the phone from his ear and gave it a ‘what the hell?’ look. “Just go open the damn door.” Charles repeated.

“Charles- I swear if this is one of your stupid pranks, I’m seriously not in the mood-“

“Yeah, I know you aren’t in the mood. Everyone around you today has said the same thing.” Charles said sarcastically. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask how he knew this, but Charles beat him to it. “Trust me- this will make up for it.”

He hesitantly took a step in the direction of the door. What the hell was Charles up to? “What did you do?” he pushed and placed his hand on the door knob.

“Nothing!” Charles responded in an offended tone. “Did you open the door yet?”

“No.”

“Open.the.fucking.door.” He ordered, enunciating each word.

Sebastian turned the knob. “Are you already here? Is this why you’re acting more annoying than usual?” As he pulled the door open absent-mindedly. “Because my mom is going to be here and I really don’t feel like-.” Stopping mid-sentence, his brain unable to form words all of a sudden.

Charles chuckled lightly. “I’m assuming you finally opened the door.” Sebastian opened and then shut his mouth, words not coming out. His best friend snickered on the other line. “I told you this was would make up for it. Oh and you’re welcome. I’ll see you later.” Then there was a click, indicating he had just hung up.

“Hola, Ojos Azules- are you just gonna stand there and stare? Or are you going to let me in?” Camille’s soft voice asked cheekily, a huge grin on her beautiful features. She stood a few feet away from him, in a pair of dark jeans and buttoned down yellow blouse, beautiful melanin skin glowing against the material. Her normal curls straighten and down to her shoulders.

Fuck, was she really standing in-front of him? Regardless, he took a small step back, unsure of what else to do or say.

“Cierra la boca si no las moscas se meten.” She teased in Spanish, as she stepped into the suite and turned her back to him to shut the door.

He had no idea what she had just said, but his brain cells rapidly returned. He swiftly moved behind her. She let out a small gasp in surprise when she came face to chest. He narrowed his eyes down. “Is this why you hadn’t responded to my messages?” he accused, things slowly clicking in his head.

Camille looked up at him through her lashes, an innocent smile on her face. “Did you really think I would miss this?” Hesitantly placing the palms of her hands on his chest, as if unsure if she could touch him.

“Well…I hadn’t heard from you in days-.”

“Were you worried?” she interrupted in a teasing tone and moved her hands up and down his chest gently.

A sense of relief hitting the pit of his stomach at how easily they were able to go back to their teasing ways- even after 4 months. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her face. “Actually- I kind of thought you were mad at me.” He admitted and placed his hands on top of hers. His heart swelling with the familiar emotions every time he was around her.

Camille wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Mad at you?”

Sebastian was barely paying attention to her words, instead he gently cupped her face, her skin soft against his fingers. “It doesn’t matter now.” He muttered.

But she wasn’t dropping it. “Why would I be mad at you?” Giving him a suspicious look. “What did you do Sebastian Stan-?”

“Camille-.” He interrupted.

“What?” she snapped and lifted her chin at the same time scrunching her nose.

“Shut up.” She scowled in response. “And let me kiss you.” He finished softly and dropped his hands from her face, as their noses touched. A shaky breath escaped her lips, but she tried to mask it with a glare. Sebastian caught it and smirked. “I don’t have to-.”

She rolled her eyes, before she chewed on her bottom lip. He closed his eyelids and nuzzled his nose to hers. She let out another choppy breath. “I-I uh just...” trailing off.

Fuck-he’d missed her.

“Yeah? Me too.” He mocked, though he had no idea what she was talking about.

“You think you’re so funny Stan-.”

But didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence as Sebastian mouth touched Camille’s, brushing lightly over her bottom lip. A tiny sigh escaped her, before he completely covered her mouth with his. His hands glided up and behind her neck, angling it a bit to get better access. He needed to taste her again. He smiled against her lips when he felt her hands wrap loosely around his waist to tug him close. Sebastian took it as a sign and trailed his hands down to her hips. Recklessly but slowly he led her backwards so she was pressed up against the wall closest to the door. He broke the kiss temporarily to make sure he hadn’t hurt her as they moved. She responded quickly and didn’t wait for him to kiss her, but devoured his lips with her own, sucking on his tongue and moving her mouth against his.

They continued to attack each other in a frenzy, as if their lives depended on it for the next few minutes. He eventually clutched harder on her covered torso as her fingers clasped the front of his shirt and jerked him harder to her warm body, initiating a light bang sound on the wall.

Quickly he pulled away from her mouth and looked down at her with concern. “Are you okay?” Moving one hand behind her head in protectiveness while the other hand stroked the skin on her arm. The familiar glossy look he come to love back in her eyes.

“Mmm, mmm yeah.” She responded and nipped eagerly on his lower lip.

He snickered. “Are you sure?” But pressed his chest to her breasts. His fingers aching to touch more. Her usual smell of vanilla and shea butter invading his nostrils. He dipped down and licked the side of her neck, not waiting for a response. “So does this mean we’re picking up where we left off?” he murmured amusingly into her skin. Instinctively, she grasped unto his bicep and let out a tiny sigh. Sebastian nibbled along the collarbone and she shivered. “I’ll take that as a yes…” he whispered and glided one hand downward to the dip of her spine, then to one covered ass cheek.

Camille whined in shock at his sudden move, but it swiftly turned into a low moan when he rubbed then squeezed smoothly.

“God, I’ve missed…this…” he grunted against her lips. “…ass.” Then kissed her hard to keep her from saying another word.

After a few seconds, she pulled away and scowled. “And here I thought you were going to say you missed me.”

He gave her a light peck, then chuckled lowly. “I mean it is part of you.” He reasoned, unable to stop his hands from clutching again as he attached his mouth back to her clavicle and sucked right where she liked it. She stirred and tossed her head back. He smiled against her skin. He hit his mark. He sucked again and she whimpered.

“You’re-you’re distracting m-me…” she stuttered but angled her neck more to give him better access.

“I know.” Sebastian admitted and nibbled a few moments longer before he pressed his lips back on hers. And for the next ten minutes not a single world was said between them as they familiarized themselves back with their lips and hands. They kissed, nipped, licked and groped in a frenzy, unable to get enough of each other. It felt as if their bodies and mind knew they had 4 months to catch up on.

Somehow they made it toward the loveseat, still tangled in each other’s arms. Sebastian stumbled backwards onto the cushions and Camille took the opportunity to straddle him. He let out a small grunt and she raised an eyebrow. He smiled wickedly up at her then tugged her face towards his. As their lips locked once more, his hands desperately moved to the first button of her blouse.

“Well aren’t we in a hurry?” Camille teased beside his mouth, but rubbed her firm ass against his thighs.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and confessed. “I just can’t believe you’re really here.” His heart thumping rapidly within his chest.

“So…is this better than a text?” she asked boldly, those beautiful brown eyes dancing with mischief.

His eyes grew wide, when her words registered in his brain. “They told you about that?” His cheeks warm. She nodded. “Wait-they knew about this?” he asked in an annoyed tone.

Giggling, she nodded again and gently brushed one of his brows with her fingertips. “Everyone kind of did.”

“Ma?”

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “I talked to her this morning.”

“Huh.” Not sure of what else to say, but absently continued to play with the blouse button.

She got him good. He had not been expecting her. He knew she been working long hours and when he’d mentioned the premiere a month ago, her respond was: she wished she could be there, but work was not going to allow the time. He had been bummed- but if anyone understood, it was him.

He playfully glared but glided his large hands down her torso. A small yelp left her lips when his fingers began to tickle.

She laughed loudly and squirmed in his lap. “Sebastian! Stop!” Her laughter echoing throughout the room. “You know I hate being tickled.” She reminded, almost out of breath. “Sebbb.” She begged.

Finally, he stopped his torture and kissed her. She stirred and he sucked in a large breath when she spread her legs wider and her covered mound came in contact with his now growing erection.

They teased each other for a few longer moments; his hands back on her ass, unable to keep from touching and squeezing, while she used her hips to grind into him.

Damn- he had something important to say but could not concentrate. He realized they needed to discuss...

But it was hard to think straight when her hips kept moving the way they were. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Camille...”

“Hmm?” she answered distractedly as she sucked on his lower lip, before she trailed her lips down his neck. She moaned into his ear as she grinded herself into him again.

“About what I said to Hayles and Chris…” he started, trying his best to keep the focus, clutching tightly on her hip. Camille lifted her head abruptly and gave him a confused look. He could feel his cheeks burning as he thought back to earlier in the day and how he might have been a bit of an ass to his friends.

Camille quirked her eyebrow for a moment, taking in his words. Slowly she realized what he meant. “There’s nothing to say or apologize for.” And stopped grinding into him. Sebastian’s heart began to race at her words. She must have sense his sudden agitation because she nuzzled her nose to his with a small smile. “Is that why you thought I was mad at you?”

He shifted in his spot, his hands still on her body, her behind snuggled perfectly into his lap. He licked his dry lips. “Not… necessarily.” He said weakly, not meeting her gaze and feeling like a damn teenage boy all of a sudden at how he lost all common sense when she was around.

“Hmm.” Camille started and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Could this have anything to do with your date?” At her words, he jerked his attention back on her. She wrinkled her nose in amusement. She moved and spread her thighs but leaned back a bit to look at him through her long lashes. “Seb- baby relax.” Rubbing the top of his shoulders soothingly. “We never talked about it. It’s not like we established any rules about us not seeing other people.” Ducking her head down to give him a sweet peck on the lips. He raised both eyebrows in astonishment. “What?” She asked nervously now.

“You’re kind of amazing you know that?” He murmured, his hands moving up and down on her spine.

“I mean I wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I thought you were seeing someone-.” And stopped to give a suspicious look. “You aren’t, right? It’s not like she’s your girlfriend-?”

“Why? Would you be jealous?” He couldn’t help but ask with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “No. But you would be getting an elbow to your junk.” She stated in a matter of fact tone.

“Such violence.” Sebastian teased in between chuckles. Feeling a little less anxious about things, now that she was there with him. He realized she was such as unsure of things as he was. But one thing was for sure- and it was that he would never be the type of man who could cheat. He slipped his arms around her waist and tugged her softly to him. “Come here.” He started with a grin. “No- she isn’t my girlfriend. We’ve been out once.” He confirmed and nestled his face into her hair. He could understand her uneasiness. If he was seeing someone seriously, their current position would not be appropriate. Sebastian continued. “We’ve talked a few times. She texted a bit earlier-.”

“To wish good luck right?” she mumbled with a squint of her eyes.

Sebastian felt his heart flutter and lifted his head back up. “So you are jealous.” He accused, eyes dancing with glee.

Camille’s jaw dropped, eyes wide. “I didn’t say uh- t-that.” She stammered but ran her fingers through his hair.

“Uh huh.” She stirred in his lap and moved one hand to the back of his neck. “I mean it’s okay if you are-.”

“You talk too much.” She interrupted and swiftly covered his mouth with hers, her body unconsciously arched up and moaned. He squeezed her hip tight as his tongue teased hers.

The conversation forgotten as they continued their attack on each other. Lips, hands everywhere again. This went on for a few more moments. His hands itched to touch more of her skin. He blindly found the buttons on her blouse and began to delicately undue each one. His skin feeling as if it was on fire. The need for her unexplainable. He was down to the second to last button when he heard a sudden knock on his door.

He jerked his hand and mouth back at the same time. He groaned in frustration. This would happen. He peered back and she bit down on her lower lip, ready to push off of him. Sebastian was quick and gripped her elbow, getting a good peek of her yellow bra. “Maybe they’ll think I’m not here?” He whispered, afraid that whoever was on the other side would hear him.

Camille giggled and tapped his chin indicating for him to look her. “We aren’t that lucky.”

And almost as if on cue, they heard another knock. He shut his eyes for a split second, but not before the third knock. He sighed in aggravation and opened them back up to find Camille giving him an almost pity look. “Do I have to?” He whined like a child.

“Yes baby.” She calmly answered at the same she got up from his lap.

Groaning loudly, he followed her lead. Begrudgingly he made his way toward the door but not before he looked over his shoulder to Camille buttoning the blouse back up. Letting out one last displeased grunt, he unlocked the door and found his manager, Emily.

“Hey!” She greeted happily.

He forced a smile. Any other time he would have been happy to see her, but not at that precise moment.

She didn’t wait for him to say a word, instead she strutted into the room and continued to talk. “So I was thinking-.” But gasped when she spotted Camille sitting on the couch. “You made it!” Quickly walking toward and engulfing her in a hug.

Sebastian shut the door and looked between both women. “You knew?”

Emily pulled away from Camille and winked. “Who do you think booked her flight?”

Camille snickered and reminded. “I told you everyone knew.”

***

An hour and a half later, Camille stepped back to let Sebastian into her hotel room. She had left his room to start getting ready for the premiere. She smiled genuinely and leaned in to peck him on the lips. “Hey.” She greeted closing the door behind them, as she played with the slash of the white robe wrapped around her body.

“Hi.” Sebastian answered but peered down to his phone when it beeped. Blindly, he strutted toward the back of the couch, his attention on the phone screen. “Sorry.” He mumbled and peeked a look at her. “Mom just got into LAX.”

Camille beamed. “I can’t wait to see her! Did she make it okay?”

“Yea. She’s getting her luggage. It’s probably going to take her another hour to get to the hotel with this traffic.” Sebastian stated, leaning against the couch.

“I can wait for her, if you have to leave before she gets here.” Camille offered, nervously tugging on the collar of the robe.

Sebastian smiled gratefully and placed his phone on the edge of the couch. “Thank you. I hate the idea of her roaming around by herself. Especially since my stepdad couldn’t make it.”

“Are you still dragging him to the London premiere?” Camille teased and turned toward the bathroom. She had been in the process of doing her eyeliner when he knocked.

“First of all- I’m not dragging him.” Sebastian protested and followed, leaning his whole body against the door frame, arms across his chest.

Camille snickered and winked before she leaned into the counter to get her other eye. She had come to learn how important Anthony- Georgeta’s husband was to Sebastian. It was cute actually. “Is he excited about it?” She asked instead.

“Yeah.” He said with a grin. “It’ll be cool. This will be his first movie premiere and I’m glad he gets to enjoy at least one of them since he can’t be here tonight.”

Camille stopped for a split moment with the eyeliner pencil and sincerely smiled through the mirror. “I’m glad.” Then focused back on her makeup.

“I still can’t believe mom knew about you coming and kept it to herself.”

“That’s because I told her this morning.” Camille confessed finishing up with the eyeliner. Giving herself a once over she turned her attention toward him. Her pulse accelerating when she realized those deep blue eyes were already boring into her.

“You’re pretty good at that.” He mused and rubbed a hand behind his neck.

Camille wrinkled her nose. “I better be- seeing that it’s my livelihood.” Her hands fretfully rubbing on the material of the robe.

To say Camille hadn’t been nervous about his reaction to her surprise visit was the understatement of the year. Throughout the whole flight, anxiety had taken over her thoughts. What if he didn’t care? What if she showed up and he had a date? (Even though Charles had insisted otherwise) They hadn’t talked about boundaries when they decided to sleep together 4 months prior.

She had so many questions…

Originally she had not been able to get the days off, but after a few schedule changes it had worked out. She mentioned it to Charles via text and he been the one with the idea of surprising Sebastian. Charles had been the one to contact Emily and then everything else fell into place. At first she’d been hesitant, afraid he was taking someone besides his mom to the premiere. She didn’t want to intrude, if he did happen to have a date. Charles must have picked up on it and reassured that wasn’t the case.

Obviously being able to kiss and hold Sebastian wasn’t the only reason she wanted to go to the event, but it was a perk. And she wasn’t going to do that if he was seriously seeing someone.

He unfolded his arms and made the motion toward her, but stopped when his phone rang. He sighed before giving an apologetic look. “It’s probably mom.”

Camille gave a small nod of her head and he took that as an indication that it was okay. Once he had disappeared out of the bathroom, Camille went back to her makeup. After a few extra minutes, she felt satisfied with the way she looked and reached for the setting spray to finish the look. She glanced once more at herself through the mirror and blew a raspberry though her nose, butterflies filling her belly in excitement and jitters for the night. She flipped the light off and made her way out of the bathroom, determined to try and just enjoy the next 36 hours with him.

She felt her heart flutter when her eyes landed on him. He stood at the end of the couch, in jeans and plain white shirt, full attention placed on his phone. How did he make something so simple look so good?

“What did Georgeta say?” Taking a step in his direction.

Lifting his head, they locked eyes for a split moment. “She just got into baggage claim. I let her know, I probably wouldn’t see her until she got to the theater.” Glancing back down at his phone with a small frown. “Sorry.” He mumbled distractedly. “Emily keeps sending me different times for these next interviews coming up.” Licking his bottom lip tensely and running his fingers through his hair.

Camille felt her heart squeeze, watching him. It didn’t take a genius to see how nervous he was about the next few hours. Hell, she would be too. During their phone calls/text he had expressed how worried he was at messing anything up during the promotion of the movie. She had tried to do her best to just listen and let him vent, just like he had one plenty of times for her. So it was no surprise to see him a bit agitated. All of this seemed overwhelming and she wasn’t the one in the spotlight.

Biting her own lip, and letting an uneven breath, she placed her fingers on the slash of the robe, deciding it was now or never. She had meant to do this later on in the evening, but it looked like he could use a diversion…

“Seb?”

“Hmm?” he responded without looking up from the phone.

“I need your help with something.”

“With what dragoste?” His forehead wrinkled in concentration.

“I need help deciding what to wear tonight.” The boost of confidence she had a few seconds ago rapidly deflating like a balloon as he kept his focus on the phone, deciding to nix her little plan. Then quickly changed her mind again when she observed him stir uncomfortably in the spot. Camille could feel his anxiety and realized this wasn’t about her- but about him. Taking another small step. “I’m trying to decide which color would be better.” She murmured nonchalantly as her fingers tugged on the slash again.

“What are the options?” he asked absentmindedly, his fingers swiftly texting.

If she wasn’t so sure he was ignoring her on purpose, she would have thrown a pillow at his head- but knew it wasn’t the case.

“It’s between a red and this blue I have on.” She mused, untying the robe and pushing it down onto her shoulders, heart beating. “What do you think?”

It felt like forever, but finally he looked up and over at her and blinked a few times as if trying to get his brain to register. His eyes did a double take when he realized what she was wearing. He swallowed hard and tossed his phone on the couch, those blue arises now a shade darker.

Camille hid the smirk as he took a step in her direction and let the rest of the robe fall to the floor and pool around her feet. “What do you think?” She repeated. The reaction he had giving her the confidence to continue. She might have done some lingerie shopping before she left New Zealand. She still wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, but decided it would be fun to tease him a bit- especially after 4 months.

She wore a two piece blue color lacy lingerie set with garter belt and stockings to match.

“Okay- you have my attention.” Sebastian stated gruffly, his eyes lingering up and down her body.

Blinking harmlessly, she tilted her head to one side. “I just need help deciding which color to wear.” But thanked the stars above for the girlfriend who had suggested the blue. She had needed support in her little venture and brought along one of the girls she worked with.

“I need a better look.” Sticking his tongue out onto one side of his mouth, his gaze almost hungry as it landed back on her cleavage.

Camille bit down on her lower lip and took a small step backwards, her face somber. “No silly, you need to see it from afar to give me your opinion.” She mocked, putting one hand out, pretending to keep him at arm’s length.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Moving closer at the same time his fingers grasped her wrist softly.

“Uh huh.” She responded with a nod and another step back, trying to look as innocent as possible, even with the lingerie. She took a few more steps back and lurched forward for a split second, when her almost bare behind came in contact with the thick cold glass console table, closets to the bathroom wall.

“Be careful dragoste.” He whispered, letting go of her wrist, a smirk on that handsome face. The sexual tension crackling throughout the room. “Don’t want you falling-especially in that outfit.” His pupils dilated, a hand coming up to cup one side of her cheek. “Did you plan this too?” He asked in an amused tone.

Camille gave a slight shake of head. “No.” Trying her best to stifle her giggles, but it was no use, her mouth had a mind of its own.

“So you didn’t plan on wearing this for me to see?” He pushed, nostril flaring, his eyes devouring her form.

“Not until tonight -but it seemed like you needed a distraction right now.” Pursing her lips and inched closer. A slight shiver down her spine when his large hand slid from her cheek to the base of her neck. Her stomach tightening in anticipation.

He cleared his throat and lowered his head to get a better look. “Jesus-you’re even wearing the garter belt.”

“It’s the set Sebastian. It came with the bra and thong...” she explained, batting her eyelashes. Baiting him. She watched his jaw clinch and felt the familiar throb between her thighs. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she blindly maneuvered one hand behind the table for support.

His eyes narrowed and landed on her barely covered breasts. “Blue looks good on you.” He grunted. Camille raised a suspicious eyebrow, and purposely exhaled, her cleavage in full view for his eyes.

Before she had a chance to continue speaking, Sebastian leaned in and touched his lips with hers. She hummed and shut her eyes when his warm mouth moved against hers. She reached out and clutched his shirt, the other hand going to the side of his face to pull him close. God, she’d missed him. She felt his thumb press into the side of her face to steady and ravage her mouth. Camille felt the heat rush through her as his lips left hers and trailed kisses along her jaw at the same time his large hand moved from her face, down to her bare arms, then torso, before it glided down to the dip of her back. Camille whimpered when he grazed a fingertip along the thong material that barely covered her behind.

Damn, he was good. She was the one who was supposed to be seducing him.

She opened her mouth to speak but only a squeak slipped out when his hand lingered lower and lower and clutched an ass cheek. She quickly recovered and gave him a haughty look when he squeezed again. “What? You didn’t believe me?”

“I had to make sure.” The palm of his hand rubbing on her warm skin. “You did say you would only wear these when I was around.” He reminded smugly.

“Sebastian!!” Camille gasped in disbelief when he tugged the thin material between her ass cheeks upward. Yet, felt the wetness between her thighs. Her heart raced and let out a choppy breath when his hand proceeded to cup between her thighs “Baby...” she licked her lips. “I was supposed to be distracting you.” The tone of her voice serious.

“Oh- you are Camille.” He said gruffly, gingerly letting his fingers tease. He sucked roughly on her lower lip at the same time his fingernails delved into her flesh. She jerked in surprise and looked up at him wide eyed. His features soften. “Was that too much?” he asked, wrinkling his forehead.

She smiled warmly up, thankful that he was the type of man who still felt the need to ask for consent during moments like these. It made her feel safe. “No.” She responded with a shake of her head. “It just took me by surprise.” Stroking one side of his face with her knuckles, to assure him.

“I can stop-.”

Camille pushed herself up on her tip-toes and gently nibbled on his bottom lip, to stop him from finishing the sentence. He exhaled loudly. “I like it a bit rough…” she confessed against his mouth, with a slight smile.

“Oh really?” he probed and nipped back, his large hand clenching again.

“Uh huh.” Kissing him hard.

“In that case-.” He growled and pulled away from her. Suddenly she was spinning, the hand on the back of her neck again, as Sebastian bent her over, Camille’s chest flat against the glass table. She had not been expecting this, but she was not opposed to it either. Licking her lips, Camille purposely wiggled behind him.

“Hmmm, I need a closer look to give you a better opinion...”

Camille peered over one shoulder, a satisfied feeling coming over when she watched Sebastian’s eyes move up and down her form. Standing behind and licking those soft his lips she had come to like so much.

“Fuck-this is beautiful.” He murmured-mesmerized. And to show exactly what he was talking about, he used the palm of his hand to caress one ass cheek. Camille tensed, not sure what to expect next. She felt him lean in, his breath on her neck. “Anytime this doesn’t feel right- just say the word, okay?” The tone in his voice soft and sincere.

Camille nodded in response.

“Good.” Brushing his soft lips with hers. Her body and mouth reacted to his touch and kissed him back. She was so consumed with his mouth, she hadn’t realized he had flatten her arms out on the table, before he pulled away.

“Seb?” She questioned in a small voice. The ache for him growing with each second.

“I got you doll.”

“Don’t call me doll-.” She snapped, but stopped when she felt a finger stroke up her covered mound.

He snickered. “You were saying?”

She should have known he said it on purpose. By this time, her cheek was pressed against the cool glass and all she could do was stir in the spot. If she wasn’t aroused, she would have rolled her eyes. Instead she panted hard and watched her breath fog up the glass her cheek rested on. Swallowing, Camille’s eyes slid shut when a long finger pushed the thong to the side and stroked along her most sensitive flesh and rubbed her clit in small circles before finally dipping the fingertip into the warmth of her. She moaned and tilted her hips up. Sebastian took that as a sign to continue and pressed his finger in up to first knuckle.

“Oh god…”

“Mmm, a tight fit.” Sebastian tormented. “Damn baby…you’re already so wet for me.”

He was right. There was no denying. She was surprised how quickly it had happened. “Sebastian…” she moaned.

“Do you want the second finger?” he asked huskily. Camille nodded eagerly. “Use your words Camille.”

“Yes… I want the second finger.”

He didn’t say another word, instead carefully slid his middle and forefinger together.

“Hmm, Seb.” She panted and moved her hips against his hand. A tiny gasp left her mouth when he gently forced the palm of his other hand on the dip of her back to keep her from moving. “Mmmm, yes…” she purred in pleasure when he eased the fingers out and then back in for a few long moments. Over and over, he tortured her, every so often swirling his finger over her clit.

“Is that good?”

“Yes.” Camille croaked out.

“Spread your legs a little more for me baby.” Sebastian coaxed.

She did what he asked and spread them, but whined in disappointment when he eased the finger out of her.

“I can look at you this way for hours.” He confessed. “Is this what you wanted? Huh? To have me bend you over so I could play?”

Camille felt the tightness in her stomach at his words. She could only imagine what she looked like, bent over the table in a bra and thong, ass out, Sebastian’s fingers playing in her.

She jerked when he leaned in and trailed his hand along the apex of her thighs, then ran his palm over her mound. She sucked in her breath, a raspy sound that turned into a sigh when his finger slid along the center of her, sinking into wet heat once more. Unable to control it, she began to rock her hips into his fingers.

He chuckled lowly. “So impatient.” But stroked in and out, over and over, faster and deeper. Giving exactly what she needed, legs feeling like jelly. Instinctively she squeezed her thighs around his hand.

“Please...” She mewled, needing a release. She was slick, her body quivered.

“Keep your legs apart.” He ordered softly. But she couldn’t, instead they drifted closer together. “Camille...” he warned. She wasn’t listening, not when he was torturing her in pure bliss.

She was about to argue, when his large hand came down hard on one ass cheek. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed in astonishment.

“I told you to keep them apart.” But gently massaged where he’d spanked.

“This is just an excuse for you to slap my ass.” Camille retorted. At that comment, she felt the palm of his hand slap again. She swallowed the moan and tried to hide the smug smile off her face.

Okay, fine. She liked it. And she knew talking back was the way to get what she wanted.

“Does that feel good?” He growled. She only nodded. “What did I say about using your words dragoste?” He reminded sternly and smacked the other bare cheek-harder that time.

The whack! Sound echoing in her ears. She shifted slightly- that one stung, but it felt good. Before she was able to put another thought together, his hand came back down on her flesh.

“Oh fuck!” Camille croaked out. Then sucked in a large breath when he soothed the sting of the slap.

“I’ve missed being able to touch you this way.” He admitted. He pressed his chest to her back and peppered kisses along her neck and behind her ear. Camille shivered and sighed. “God- you’re so beautiful.” He breathed. “Everything about you...”

Camille panted, but felt her heart burst at his words. “Baby, please....please...” She stammered.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked, nipping on her earlobe.

“Y-yes. Please Sebastian.” She pleaded.

He stood straight up and slid both fingers back into her and moaned. “Damn, you’re so fucking hot.”

After that-no other words were needed, Sebastian continued his attack. He pressed deeper with his fingers. He caught her clit between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed up and down, squeezing his fingers together to increase the pressure and sensation on her.

Camille cried out, her pleasure growing, repeating his name over and over again. Her body jerked for a second, but then she started riding his fingers. Over and over he whispered words of praise as he drove her crazy with his magical touch. At the same time, his other hand squeezed and spanked her bare skin. She shakenly wet her lips with her tongue and felt her body temperature rise, feeling the orgasm begin to build with every methodical stroke Sebastian made. In and out he slid those long digits, the pleasure seeping through her pores. This went on for a while, until Camille felt her muscles tighten around him.

“Let it go baby. I’m right here. I got you.” Sebastian pushed gently. “I want to feel you cum all over my fingers.” The pace of his stroke, easing when he realized she was close.

And damn-she was. She let out a short gasp and twitched slightly, finally allowing her body to give in to the orgasm. It was a good thing they were alone, with all the noises she was making. She screamed and begged, her whole body in goosebumps as he brought her over the edge. Wave, after wave, her hot body convulsed in pure ecstasy.

With her face still pressed on the glass table, Camille tried to catch her breath. All she could hear at the moment was the beat of her heart in her chest.

“Dios mio.”

He sniggered. “Really?” But then asked in concern. “Are you okay?” As he eased the fingers out of her.

A slight shiver ran thought when he gingerly cupped her mound. “Y-Yeah. Totally.” She stumbled.

“You sure?” He asked playfully.

“Yes, of course.” She mumbled and lazily lifted her head up from the table.

“Okay... good. Because we aren’t done yet.”

And at those words, his hot mouth sucked softly along the top of her shoulders, before they trailed down her spine-every so often his teeth nipping along the skin.

Camille dropped her head back down on the cold table and breathed heavy as his lips continued their tortuously attack on her. She shut her eyelids when his tongue licked along the dip of her back, leaving a wet trail along the way. This went on for the next few minutes, almost as if Sebastian knew she needed to catch her breath. She licked her dry lips a few times before she finally lifted her head and peered back at him.

“So, is this a yes on this one?” Camille teased after she gathered her thoughts.

Sebastian abruptly stopped at the question and narrowed his eyes up at her. “I’m not done yet.” He countered, his lips hovering right along the curve of her ass. Without taking his eyes off her, he gradually leaned in and nibble her warm flesh, while his free hand massaged the other.

An almost purr like sound left her mouth at his action. Fuck, this whole thing with him at the moment was sexy as hell. She didn’t want it to end.

“Seb?”

“Yeah baby?” He answered, but it was fairly obvious he was preoccupied, both hands glided up to her hips. “Mmm, let’s take these off.” His fingertips gingerly tugging down on the lacy thong.

Camille swallowed and wiggled her hips slightly to help him. She felt the tip of his fingers along the back of her thighs, then down her legs. She watched as he lowered himself to his knees, shoulders tensed, one knee on the floor, the other bent as he studied her, his hot breath blowing across her clit. She heaved, damn he was going to make her orgasm again wasn’t he?

And as if reading her mind, he tenderly exposed her vulva with his thumbs. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“Oh baby...” he hissed. “Look at this...can I taste it?”

“Yes.” She squeaked out. Realizing she was wet again. Dear god, she wasn't sure if she could do this again, but she wanted to-for him.

She felt him press against her wet slit with his fingers. Gliding up and down over her clit and dipping inside her. His finger was teasing. She tried to push herself up on her elbows, but didn’t last long. Instead she jerked and gasped when his hot tongue replaced his finger. Sebastian stroked in and out of her with his tongue, over and over, faster and deeper.

Camille could only whimper. No words capable to describe how wonderful this felt. She shut her eyes tightly as he continued his attack. He laved her clit with his tongue, teasing her with the touch he seem to know was not quite enough to send her over.

Tiny gasp and humming noises left her when he gripped her hips blindly and rocked them gently on his tongue and mouth. This went on for a few moments, until Sebastian decided to glide his large hands unto each bare cheek. She arched her back when he delved his fingers roughly unto her flesh, his mouth not letting up.

Camille felt dizzy, but she wanted more. Her body needed more. “Oooh.” She sighed.

He spread her wider for his viewing, and Camille’s body jolted when she felt the palm of his hand come back down on her now bare flesh, his tongue still pressed inside her. He sucked along one of her swollen lips at the same time and spanked again.

She let out a choppy breath, felling her nipples harden against the lacy material.

Sebastian took that as a good sign, because he added a finger to his tongue and stretched her farther to get more of the taste he craved. She stirred and gasped, not only due to his mouth, but also to the way his large hand kept kneading and smacking her flesh. She was sure, it would sting later, but fuck it was worth it. He pulled his finger out and tongued her as deeply as he could go, her whole body vibrated. Camille called out his name, her voice desperate. Trying to pull his mouth away, not sure how much more she could take.

“So fucking good.” She heard him growl.

By then she had given up trying to push him away, he moved his mouth back to her now quivering clit and slid his fingers back inside her. He violently lapped over her nub with his tongue until her body went stiff with preclimax tension and then he gently took her between his teeth and sucked.

She screamed, she begged. For him to stop. For him to keep going. “Sebastian...” she almost sobbed.

“I know baby... you’re doing so good.” He soothed. “Can you stand up?”

Camille squealed, then pouted. She hadn’t cum yet.

What was he doing? She needed for him to finish! She was literally dripping.

She heard a light chuckle and somehow found herself turned around. Oh.

Oh, that’s why he had asked if she could stand up. Without thinking twice her hands fell to his head for support, curling her fingers into his hair.

He peered up at her through those lashes. “Good girl.” A smug look painted on his features.

And without another word, darted his tongue across her once more. Camille tightened her grip on his hair

Sebastian took another slow lick, sliding from one end of her hot core to the other, and she shuddered. His hands moved around to her backside, holding her tight, he drew her forward, his tongue bumping against her. She could feel it. And before she had a chance to think, hot wetness gushed from her. Her body shivered for an orgasm.

Her shallow pants echoed through the room as the shivers receded, he gentled her with his mouth. She sucked in a large breath, but her body and mind still in a blissful fog. “I-uh…whoa, whoa.” She stuttered and licked her lips over and over.

How had she gone 4 months without his touch? Jesus.

She peeked down and watched as he withdrew from in between her legs and placed open mouth kiss up her pelvic and stopped when he reached her bellybutton. His fingers playing with the blue straps still attached to her thighs.

He snickered. “You okay baby?” And pressed another kiss on her belly.

She nodded. “Uh huh…sure.”

Distractingly she sank her manicured nails into his soft hair and massaged softly. “That was-wow.” She breathed.

Sebastian pushed himself up from the ground to face her. He pulled her close to him, rubbing her arms soothingly with the palm of his hands and smiled. “When do I get to see the red one?”

Camille snorted back her laughter at the ridiculous question. “What I’m going to do with you-?”

Sebastian interrupted and kissed her lips. Her eyes fluttered when she tasted herself on his tongue. He lightly bit down on her lip. “Probably orgasm on your own?” He teased, his lips moving from her lips to her collarbone.

“Oh god-you’re awful.” She said through fits of giggles. But quickly changed her tune and sigh her response as his lips continued to do the most marvelous things to her neck. “Ooh my god...” feeling hot again.

“Mmm yeah?”

She closed her eyes and let her mind relax as he teased. “Ooohhh....” Then she heard it. The loud knock. Her eyes flew open. “Oh my god…Chris!”

At those words, Sebastian jerked his mouth from her neck. “Excuse me?!” His eyes wide in disbelief. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face.

Camille wrinkled her forehead in confusion for a split moment when he heard the tone of his voice.

Then it dawned on her...

She brought both hands up to her mouth, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Baby-no.” Shaking her head. “The door.” And almost as if on cue, there was another light tap. “I forgot he said he was going to stop by and say hi.”

Sebastian’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Oh...okay.” His cheeks flushed.

She couldn’t help but giggle, when she realized why he had reacted the way he had.

He recovered quickly and glared playfully. “Shush it.”

Camille batted her eyelashes innocently and shrugged.

He smiled wickedly as his eyes roamed her almost naked form. “Why don’t I get the door?”

“Oh- I can do it.” She said nonchalantly, already predicting his response. He scowled. “Or…you can. That works too.” She stated sweetly. Then jumped in surprise when the palm of his hand swatted her ass. Her jaw dropped, but Sebastian was already walking away from her.

She watched as he bent down and swiftly grabbed the bathroom robe from the floor and tossed it gently to her. Camille caught it but raised an eyebrow. Sebastian raised both back at her before he turned his back to her.

“Oh shit!” She hissed nervously when she spotted it on the floor. “Seb-?” Already sliding the robe back on. But he was already bending down to pick up her lacy thong. She sighed in relief, then rolled her eyes when he shoved it in his front jean pocket. “Seriously?” She called out.

“What?” He said seriously. “I might need it later to compare it with the red one.”

Camille pretended to be annoyed but burst out laughing again at his reasoning. By then he stood by the door and winked.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone made her feel sexy and make her laugh in a short period of time. She sighed in contentment when she realized how happy he made her. It was simple as that.

***

Camille looked up from her phone when she heard her name. Beaming widely when she recognized the face. “Hey!” She exclaimed.

“Hi gorgeous.” Hayley greeted in her familiar British accent. With a silly wiggle of her shoulders, Hayley slid into the booth next to Camille. Leaning in to give her a smooch on the cheek. “Muaw!” she added dramatically.

Camille chuckled lightly at the greeting. It was past 1in the morning and they had moved on to the after party. The premiere had been a success. Everything seemed to have gone without a hitch. Everyone who had been involved in the project-appeared relaxed and chill now that it was out-including herself.

“Glad it’s finally out?” Camille guessed and brought the cocktail with the straw up to her mouth.

Hayley let out an exasperated sound. “Yes!” Scowling for a split moment. “Do you know how hard it is for me to keep a secret?!”

Camille stifled her laugh. “Oh I know.” She agreed.

“I was kidding.” Hayley scoffed with a playful glare.

Her face quickly turned somber. “Oh-me too sweetie.” Unable to keep the mischievous look away from her eyes as she said the words.

“Uh huh. You get a pass because I haven’t seen you in months.” The playful glare replaced by a wicked smile. “Speaking of secrets...”

At those words, Camille averted her eyes back down to her drink. Dreading where this conversation was headed.

Hayley continued. “How surprise was Sebby when you showed up at his door?”

Her face relaxing a bit as the words sunk in. She had not been expecting that question, but she take it. Trying to remain composed, she answered with a genuine smile. “His reaction was definitely worth the 10 plus hours flight.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat when she felt Hayley’s eyes narrow down at her. “What?” she asked innocently after a few seconds.

“What was the look for?”

“What look?” Camille repeated casually. Hayley’s gaze still on her. She stirred slightly in her spot and winced, feeling the sting from Sebastian’s hands from earlier on her ass. At first she hadn’t realized how bad it was, until she glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, while Sebastian opened the door for Chris. Even with her dark skin, Camille could still make out the redness from his spanking. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling at the image of Sebastian bending her over a table before the premiere…

“I knew there was more-.”

Camille jerked her attention back to her friend with a wrinkle of her forehead. “More about what?”

Hayley snickered. “You bloody know what!” Pointing an accusing finger. “I knew all the rubbish about being only being friends wasn’t going to last.”

Camille let out a dejected sigh. “You’re right.” Peering down at Hayley. “Chris and I have been seeing each other.” Keeping a straight face. “We’ve been going at it like bunnies. Cant’ get enough of Evans.” Sipping on her drink as she said the last words. She glanced back up, and burst into giggles when she saw the look Hayley was giving. “You don’t believe me? What? You don’t see him with me?”

Glaring, Hayley flipped her long ponytail to the other side of her shoulder. “Keep talking darlin’- you’re just giving yourself away.” She added with a wink. “But he’s not the one who had been grumpy all morning because you hadn’t returned a text.”

She gave a sheepish smile. “Was he really that bad?” Realizing she just gave herself up.

“Insufferable.” Hayley said with a nose wrinkle, indicating she was teasing. “It has been a long couple of days for all of us.” She defended.

“Yeah…I kind of figured it would be.” She was sure this day held a lot of emotion for everyone. “Do you get a few days off after this?”

“Not until next week.” She answered with a shrug. “What about you? How long are going to grace us with your presence?”

Camille rolled her eyes at the witty remark. “Unfortunately I have to leave early Wednesday. I have to be back on set Thursday.”

“Oh no.” Hayley pouted. “Sebby is not going to like that.” Camille wrinkled her nose in annoyance. “You two try and be so coy about all of this…but yet here you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hayley shook her head and chuckled. “You flew thousands of miles to see him. What do you think it means?”

Camille opened and shut her mouth, lost for words. She gnawed on her lip. “That’s not true…” she started slowly, hoping to turn the conversation over to a different subject. Hayley quirked an eyebrow expectantly. “I flew out for the premiere, he just happened to be part of it.” Hayley nodded slowly as she listened to her reasoning, obviously not convinced. Camille squinted one eye. “Not believable?” she asked softly.

“No, sweetheart.”

Dropping her shoulders, Camille leaned back into the booth and sulked slightly. Hayley’s words resonating with her. She knew what it looked like- flying out to surprise him. But she also recognized it wasn’t anyone’s business but hers and Sebastian’s. She would have done this for any one of her friends. Right?

“Why the long face?” Hayley asked curiously. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“We didn’t planned on this happening.” She blurted out. Her fears and questions about whatever this was with Sebastian bubbling over the surface now.

“Well of course not. It’s never planned.” Hayley answered knowingly. “But with you two? It was bound to happen eventually.” Then elbowed her good-naturedly. “Regardless of your efforts to avoid it from happening. Because we both know that’s what you were trying to do.”

There was a long pause. Camille’s ears picking up on the music playing loudly around them. Unsure of what to say, especially because Hayley was right.

“But the question now is-what happens next? What do you plan on doing about it?”

“Oh we’ve done a lot.” Camille divulged without thinking. She peeked anxiously over at Hayley. Her friend looked shocked for a split second then tossed her head back to cackle. Camille couldn’t help but giggle and brought one hand up to her face in embarrassment. “That was the cocktail talking!”

Hayley’s laughter subdued. “Oh I’m sure it’s the cock…tail talking.”

“Oh geez.” Camille groaned. “I walked right into that one didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah.”

It was silent again. Camille’s eyes wondered around the room, as she tried to collect her thoughts. “Were just…having fun.” She said out loud as he eyes spotted Sebastian and Chris at the bar, ordering drinks and laughing. Sebastian looked so handsome in an all-black suit, hair slicked back. His tie loose now that the premiere was over. Since she had waited on his mom, she did not get a chance to see him fully decked out before he left for the red carpet. But maybe it had been a good thing, because he looked so good, she would have tried to convince him to stay in bed with her.

“Good, I’m glad.”

Camille turned back to Hayley with a shy smile. “So I’m not really sure what happens next. We’ve talked some about it and I think were both on the same page about not labeling whatever this is at the moment.” Pause. “Especially with our past relationship history.” She added cynically.

“Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Sure.”

“Do what feels right to you, not what everyone else is telling you. If that means not rushing -then that’s great...but if along the way you change your mind that’s fine too. Because in this business people will always be buzzing in your ear. “

“Thanks.” Camille said gratefully. Her eyes wondering back to the bar. Sebastian and Chris nowhere to be found now. Where they go?

“Can I ask you something? “ She muttered distractedly, meeting Hayley gaze. Her friend nodded. “How pretty is this girl?” Curiosity getting the best of her.

“Dianna?”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t know. Never met her.” She said with a shrug. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Wait-is he-?”

Camille shook her head quickly with a short laugh, “No. That’s not it at all. Just...curious I guess. Not that he owes me any explanations.” She added awkwardly.

“Is that what you two decided on? To not share if you’re seeing other people?”

“Not necessarily.” Camille answered wearily. “We haven’t actually discussed those boundaries-or if we should have any...” Bringing the drink back up to her lips. “We…kind of got distracted with other things.” She finished vaguely. She heard Hayley snort next to her. “I know, I know.” Then pouted when she realized she was out of her drink.

“I didn’t say anything!” Hayley exclaimed with a slight smirk.

“But I know what you’re thinking.” Camille accused and set down her empty glass. “I know we need to.” She mumbled to herself.

“Do you want more? I mean- do you care if he’s sees other people?”

Camille thought for a second before she spoke. “I mean…it’s not like I’ll be thrilled about it, but I also know I can’t give myself to a committed relationship right now. I’m thousands of miles away-how’s that going to work? It’s not fair to either one of us. I care about him Hayles. But I’m still trying to deal with all these trust issues that my ex left. And I don’t want to put a label on this and then I turned completely crazy and throw my trust issues at him. So why not keep it fun…for now?” She realized she was blabbering.

“So keep him at arm’s length?”

She gave her friend an uncertain look. “It sounds horrible doesn’t it?”

Hayley shook her head, her eyes soft. “No, it doesn’t. I get it.” Then added carefully. “Just as long as you are both on the same page. Because when you aren’t-that’s when things tend to go wrong.”

Camille sighed loudly and slumped against the booth. “So what you’re saying is-I should probably talk to him?” Hayley nodded. Camille groaned. “But what we’ve been doing is so much more fun.” She protested.

At those words Hayley tossed her head back and laughed. “It can’t possibly be that good?”

She quirked an eyebrow and smiled smugly. The smile quickly evaporated from her face and instead jumped in her seat when she heard someone whisper loudly in her ear.

“BOO!” Camille turned her head and found Chris bent down to her level, an evil grin on his face.

“Fuck! Evans you scared me!” she cried.

“That was the point sweetheart.”

Camille glowered, ready to let him have it when her eyes spotted Sebastian standing next to him with a grim look. “He’s a bit drunk.” He shared.

“That’s not true.” Chris argued. Then glanced over to Hayley. “C’mon.” he started and extended his hand out. “Apparently we have to go take some photographs for the paparazzo.”

Hayley rolled her eyes and slide out of the booth. “Fine. Let’s go Evans”

As they began to walk away, Sebastian took the opportunity to slide into the booth next to Camille. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but they both quickly turned their heads when they heard Chris yell after them.

“Hey-you two-behave!”

***

Camille and Sebastian did behave for the rest of the night. Even on the ride back to the hotel they managed to keep their hands to themselves- mostly because of their driver. They even accomplished not touching on the elevator ride. But now as they walked down the long hall toward Camille’s suite-side by side- Sebastian couldn’t help but run his fingertips deftly along one side of her curves. His senses on high alert.

She looked up from her purse and gave him a warning look. “Cuanto tomastes?” She asked cheekily and in Spanish. Her focus back on her purse.

“As much as you did dragoste.” He retorted with a self-satisfied look. She jerked her attention back at him and raised an eyebrow in surprise. In returned he raised both at her and stuck his tongue out to the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t expect that did ya?”

“No. Definitely not.” She answered with a giggle and came to halt as she continued her search in her purse. “Here it is!” she added excitedly, showing him the key card. “And I wasn’t the one sharing bottles of champagne with both Chris’s.” She accused, referring to Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth.

“They offered. What was I supposed to say?” She gave him a skeptical look. He wiggled his eyebrows and tapped the side of her torso with his thumb. “But I’m not drunk.”

“Oh really? Do you always sing and dance karaoke? Because if I remember correctly I had to drag you onto the dance floor back in Manchester.”

He sighed relentlessly. “Fine, I was...but I’m not anymore.” He admitted and moved behind her now, both hands on her hips, his nose taking in the sweet smell of her shampoo-coconut. He swallowed and spoke again. “For the record- I do enjoy karaoke even when I’m sober.”

Which was the truth. After the long day of press junket/interviews/photographs/red carpet etc. a beer had sounded amazing. One beer turned into a few beers and by the time they made their way to the after party, he had a good buzz going, so when he had been offered champagne, it had only made sense to drink some. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been feeling the last few days until he sat down with the rest of his coworkers/co-stars and they all seemed to be thinking the same- which was: that they were glad it was finally out!

“That’s good to know Stan.” Camille said in a jokey tone, and looked at him over her shoulder. “When I come back-I’m dragging your ass to karaoke night.” Batting her eyelashes at him.

He snorted, but kept his eyes on her, just enamored by her. He had left the hotel before her, so she could wait on Georgeta. Which is why he had almost tripped on his own feet when he spotted her inside the theater- laughing at whatever his mother was saying. She looked stunning in a white formfitting knee length dress, showing off her best assets, hair straight, and make-up done perfectly. As he had walked toward them, he couldn’t help but want to nuzzle his nose into her hair to take in her sweet scent.

He hadn’t of course, but damn had it been tempting.

But now they were alone...

Without another thought, he dipped his nose into the hollow of her neck from behind. “Tu miroase uimitor…” He couldn’t help and murmur in Romanian. His arms instinctively wrapping around the slim of her waist.

“Sebastian.” She gasped in surprise. “What if someone sees?” she asked nervously.

“Baby-it’s almost 3 in the morning and so far we’re the only ones standing in this deserted hallway.” He reasoned and sucked on the soft skin right above her neck, warm against his lips. She licked her lips slowly and twisted her neck to one side for better access. Sebastian smirked and pressed her soft body to his. “This is why I stopped drinking an hour ago.” He said gruffly.

She hummed. “Why?”

“Because I told myself I needed to be sober for this.” He continued and licked along her collar.

“For what?”

He reached her earlobe and nipped before he growled out. “For when I fuck you Camille.” He heard her breath hitch at his words. He trailed his large hands down her curves, aching to touch her naked skin. He was sure she could hear how loud his heart was thumping at the moment.

“We-we should probably move from here then…” she finally managed to squeak out.

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah? You think so?” Deftly letting his nose tease back and forth behind her ear.

“Mmm, mmm- uh yes.” She stammered at the same time he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She stuck her tongue out to lick her lips. “Yeah-y-yes.” She repeated. “Do we really need someone catching us with our pants down?” She managed to tease even when Sebastian pressed the back of her to the front of his chest.

“It hasn’t stopped us before.” He shot back with a wicked laugh, referring to the sex they had in the pool and in her car 4 months ago.

“Those were momentarily lapse of judgement.” She muttered, trying to stand her ground.

“Of course.” He mocked. Feeling his cock stir when she shifted her tight little ass on him. “You’re the one with the key babe.” Sebastian reminded, as one hand purposely rested between where her thigh and hip met. Feeling her tense up at his touch.

But just as quickly as it came, she recovered and swiftly turned around so she could face him. Sebastian narrowed his eyes in suspicion when a sneaky smile tugged on her lips. “You’re right- I am.” And began to take a few steps backwards.

“Where are you going?” He cautiously asked.

“To my room.” Camille said simply and swirled again, so her back was to him.

“Is this an invitation for me to join?”

“Well-Stan-.” Emphasizing his last name as she looked over her shoulder. He only glared. She smiled sweetly and reached for his hand instead and began to lead the way down the empty hall. “Seeing that you did just confess about wanting to fuck me-.” Stopping for a second to gage his reaction. A look of satisfaction settling in her eyes when she notice his jaw clinch. “I think it’s only fair that you do join me.” She finished calmly and tugged on his hand, indicating for him to follow her.

Sebastian didn’t say another word as he trailed behind, instead kept his eyes on her ass. Unable to stop himself from wondering what she was wearing underneath that white dress. Was she still wearing the little blue lingerie set from earlier?

Damn-that had been a sexy little surprise, especially because she had done it deliberately for him. He smirked when he got the image of Camille bent over the table in her little lacy number.

FUCK.

She’d only been there 12 hours and already had him acting like a teenage boy. He was putty in her hands- and didn’t even care. All that mattered was that she was there with him. He blinked out of his thoughts as Camille came to halt. They stood in front of her door and she peered up at him through her lashes.

“What is it?” Sebastian asked in a concern voice. The look in her face letting him know she had something on her mind.

She leaned back, and took ahold of the door handle for support. “Nothing.” Her eyes soft.

He leaned in and pushed his forehead to hers. “Baby-you’re not known for your lying skills.” He reminded.

Letting out a light laugh, Camille shook her head in agreement. “You’re right.” Shifting a bit in her spot. After a few more quiet moments, she smiled up and stroked his chin with her forefinger. “I just wanted to say: I’m proud of you.” He blinked in surprise at her words. His cheeks warm all of a sudden. “I know you hate compliments.” She mocked with a nose scrunch. “But I just wanted you know that you kicked ass up on the big screen.” She finished with a sincere smile.

Sebastian cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond. She was right, he never truly knew how to take compliments. He pressed a light kiss on the tip of her nose and met her gaze, with a shy smile. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

The chemistry between them stronger than he remembered. He felt her arm come around his waist and tug him close. “You’re welcome Ojos Azules.” She whispered.

“Thanks for getting on a plane to be here.” He stated making a funny face in the process.

“Oh- I didn’t do it for you.” She shot back with a wicked smile.

“Oh? So you meant for everyone to see you in that garter belt?” Bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, his stomach filling up with butterflies at the anticipation.

She batted her eyelashes innocently. “Uh huh.” Tilting her head to one side and gave a slight nod. “Actually-I’m supposed to be meeting Dominic later.” She teased as she stroked his back softly.

“Oh really?” Licking his lips one more time before he dipped his head down and took her lips with his. She didn’t stop him, in fact her lips reacted to his touch and kissed back. He broke away for a split moment. “Does he get to the see the red one?” Playing along.

“Mmm, hmmm.” She shot back, not letting up, a small grin on her soft face when she tugged him back down and used her warm tongue to tease his bottom lip. Sebastian looped an arm around her waist and chuckled lightly as he pressed her up against the door frame, his tongue touching hers. For the next few minutes their lips explored each other. Small sighs and breaths in between, the realization that they were still in the hall, escaping them both.

Sebastian trailed his hands upward, tangling them in her hair and tugged her closer, breathing heavy when she broke the lip lock. He watched as her chest heaved. “Can I least get a peek of the red one?” he asked in a serious tone.

“Who say’s I’m wearing it?”

“Hmm.” Kissing her hard again. “You should let me find out.” He ordered.

She whimpered when he pressed his hard chest to hers. “Seb-?” She started, breaking from his mouth again.

“Yes dragoste?” But sucked along her collarbone-making her gasp.

“I just-we need to uh…” but sighed in bliss as he continued his attack. He heard her clear her throat. “Should we talk about-about what we should share with each other while-um…while…I’m gone?” she finally spat out, her breathing scruffy.

He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself at her reaction to his mouth. He moved it up toward her earlobe- as his hands groped and clutched along her soft curves. “Okay.” Sebastian responded gruffly, her words not at all registering with him. Instead he kissed her mouth again. A shaky breath escaped and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back; messy and needy.

“Or-or we can talk about it later.” She conclude against his mouth.

“Okay.” Sebastian repeated, swiftly taking the key card out of her hand and swiped it. He pushed the door open with his foot, then moved one arm back around her waist to hold her steady so she wouldn’t fall. With his free hand he slammed the door shut, tossed the key on the small table and sucked hard on her lower lip. Camille moaned and blindly took a step backwards, as she dropped her purse on the floor behind him.

Once both hands were free, she cupped his face, and gazed up at him. Her eyes filled with fervor. “Fuck me, Sebastian.” Her breath ragged.

He swallowed hard at her words. His heart ready to jump out of his chest at her plea. The room filling up with an energy only they could produce whenever they were together. He glided the palm of his hands up her back, then back down, his fingers eagerly searching for the zipper of the dress. He needed her. He didn’t know how else to describe it.

For the next couple of minutes they didn’t say one single word. Instead their lips continued to attack each other as her fingers fumbled with his tie, and suit coat. Once she got them off, she worked on his dress shirt, blindly but confidently undoing each one, as he nipped and sucked along the back of her ear. Finally-after what felt like forever, he unzipped the back of the dress, his palms coming in contact with warm skin, and tugged down. She wiggled in the spot just enough for the dress to fall around her feet.

Sebastian felt his pulse quicken when his eyes landed on her form. He took a step back and groaned in admiration. Unlike the blue one -which looked more like a halter top- the red one was thin enough he could make out her dark nipples through the lace. He only licked his lips as his eyes traveled her body, down to the tattoo on her torso which went all the way down to her hip bone. Just like with the blue one- she wore a garter belt to match and nude stockings.

“Jesus-you’ve been wearing this all night?” he asked gruffly. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this- but damn he wasn’t going to complain. After a few more seconds, he closed the distance between them and pressed her back to the door. “God, this is so fucking hot. I know I keep saying that- but fuck.” He blurted out. “All I wanted all night was to get you naked.” He confessed with a smile and shook his shirt off.

“Then get to it Ojos Azules.” She pushed boldly.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He nipped her lower lip with his teeth and slanted his mouth over hers, making her squirm. He pushed his tongue inside. Sebastian tasted the sweet wine from earlier with the sweetness that was Camille. “Did you just have these lying around?” He managed to tease, while his hands rested on the dip of her bare back, fingers itching to touch her bare ass again.

“No.” She squeaked when he began to play with the thong material on her hip. “I wanted to try something new...”

“Hmmm.” Sebastian responded at the same time he pressed his erection against her, the zipper on his pants rubbing his cock with each movement, making him even more eager to dive into her.

“Oh god Sebastian...” she moaned. “Please-just-please baby.” She pleaded with a small whimper. He chuckled and tugged down the thong at the same time his mouth founds hers again. Camille responded, clawing at the front of his slacks until she had them unfastened and unzipped. She wasted no time at all, she grabbed the waist and pulled down. Then reached and encircled his erection with both hands. “Mmmmm.” But it turned into a gasp then a low moan when his hands were quick to land on her ass.

His dick hardened when he realized the bralette, garter belt and the straps were truly the only thing she had on. He grabbed the side of her hip roughly, his pulse and heart thumping madly when his knuckles grazed her luscious thighs. “God-I’ve missed you.” He declared abruptly and slid one hand to her center. His fingers met a hint of wet heat around the edge of her slick folds. Recognition slamming him.

“I can’t wait Sebastian.” Camille stated in a hushed tone. “Don’t be gentle baby.”

He bit her neck. “You want me to fuck you hard up against this door?”

“Yes.” She panted.

Damn, if she didn’t drive him crazy. Unable to wait another second, he shoved her gently against the door, and lifted her leg to his waist and thrust inside. She panted and held him tight as he pushed deep, becoming a part of her, as she was becoming a part of him. Her full breasts meeting his chest with each thrust, stiff nipples in spite of the lacy bra between them.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He grunted, and breathed heavy together.

“Yes, oh yes.” She whimpered as he continued to thrust into her tight center. There was nothing sweet or soft in the way he was plunging into her at the moment. This was raw, needy and desperate. He had thought of stopping for a second to ask if this was okay, but didn’t need to when she clawed and nipped at his bare shoulder.

He was close, so damn close, but he couldn’t. Not until…

Sebastian shifted his body, then reached between them and found her swollen clit, while his thumb played with the straps of the garter belt. He wanted her naked-but he was also enjoying taking her this way, watching the swell of her breasts rise up and down over the bra as he teased her. Her mouth was on his throat now, sucking, biting through each plunge, but arched against his hand when he found the spot that truly made her squirm. He slowed his thrust and concentrated on her gasps as sweat beaded his temple and jaw clinched to maintain some kind of control.

“Yes, yes, Seb.” She urged.

“That’s right baby.” He murmured, burying himself deeper into her core, while he caressed the tender cleft. “I want to feel you cum around me Camille. I want to feel you come undone all over my cock.”

Camille spread her legs wider, pressing against his finger while he pumped inside. “Oh god, right there…Please don’t stop.” she whimpered. “Please.” “Shh, I’ve got you dragoste. Let it go.” He increased the quick strokes to her clit, while he let his own strokes pound deeply into her tight heat, in perfect timing with her building moans. She sucked in a large gulp of air, and Sebastian felt her entire body tense. With one final deep animal like thrust he melted completely with Camille, both of their bodies finding satisfying release, while he captured her scream with his kiss. They kissed over and over, as if doing so would calm their bodies down. Finally Camille broke the lip lock and gazed up, wide eyed, still breathing heavy. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked at the moment. Hair messy and sticking up, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses.

He brought his lips to her sweaty temple and pressed a gentle kiss. She sighed in contentment and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. For the next few minutes they didn’t move or say a word as they recuperated from what just happened.

Sebastian stroked her bare back with his knuckles, trying to get his heart beat back to a normal rate.

Camille only continued to breathe heavily in his arms. Sebastian only wished he could keep her this way longer. But he knew it couldn’t be the case. So he tried his best to enjoy this moment of intimacy. Because regardless of the raw and passionate sex they just shared- holding her was the best part. She jolted him out of his thoughts when she stirred.

Quickly he recovered and gave her back one last soft stroke, before he cleared his throat loudly. “I’m still hungry.” He declared into the side of her face.

Camille snorted and pulled away from him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re the one that didn’t want to stop and get something to eat after the driver offered.” She scolded.

He grimaced. “Yeah -well I had other pressing matters.”

She wrinkled her nose and mocked. “Uh huh. Of course.”

He playfully glared, but winced for a split second when he eased out of her. “I didn’t hear you complaining.” One arm still wrapped around to hold her in place. “I know you’re hungry too.”

Biting down on her lower lip, she shrugged nonchalantly, not meeting his eyes. “Do you think they do room service this late?” she asked sheepishly.

He chuckled lowly, finally letting go of her. “I don’t know. You’re the one with the big fancy room.” He deadpanned, as he buttoned his slacks back up and turned in the direction of the bathroom.

“It was one of the last room they had.” Camille called out after him. “It’s not my fault your manager likes me better!”

“She could have just put you with me.” He reasoned. Sebastian quickly returned with a white robe. “But it does seem that way doesn’t it?” he mused and handed it to her. “I don’t blame her- I would like you better too.” Not taking his eyes off her, he dipped his head down and planted a light kiss on her cheek.

Camille narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Don’t start getting all soft on me now.” Sliding her arms through the robe. But Sebastian could see the embarrass look in her eyes. “You think I can get pancakes?” she asked those beautiful brown eyes wide, filled with hope and changing the subject.

“Where’s the menu?” He asked and looked around the room. She handed it to him and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Let’s find out.”

***

Camille tossed her head back unable to control her laughter. “Oh my god!” she sputtered before she shoved the last piece of pancake into her mouth. “You’re so full of shit.” She accused Sebastian.

Sebastian sat up against the headboard of the bed in his boxer shorts and glared. “Why would I lie about that? Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” he yelped, reaching for one of the many pillows on the king size bed and brought it up to his broad chest.

The Hollywood Roosevelt did take room service request, they both come to learn-and that included from the breakfast menu. So after filling up on food, they had moved to the loft style bed, with the white long curtains hanging all around it. Sebastian had been right-it was an elegant room. With a name like the “Marilyn Monroe Suite” why wouldn’t it be?

“Apparently not that embarrassing if you’re sharing.” Camille accused. He rolled his eyes dramatically before he hanged his head back- feigning a look of hurt.

They’d been in bed for the part hour and half- just talking and catching up. They caught up on each other’s everyday life. Camille had shared a few stories about New Zealand and he shared what his last few auditions had been like. It was nice, it was comfortable. She had no idea what time it was- but neither one seemed to mind and besides she was so jetlag, she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. The conversation progressed and it landed on the subject of sex. Sebastian had spent the last 10 minutes sharing (in explicit details) the worst sex experience he ever had.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Camille was quick to ask as she laid back on the bed, opposite from Sebastian, the heels of her feet resting on the headboard. She taken off the stocking, so when the robe fell back-it exposed just enough of her legs and thighs. She glanced up at Sebastian, and he quickly pretended he hadn’t just been staring. She couldn’t help but hide a smug smile.

“Stop trying to distract me.” He mumbled and clenched his jaw.

“Oh- I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.” She said innocently. Then let out a small gasp when she felt one of his large hands slide up her leg, toward her thigh. “Sebastian…” she warned.

“Camille.” He taunted back and gave her thigh a squeeze. “C’mon- I gave you my virginity and worst story.” He pleaded with a pout. Camille swallowed as his fingertips tickled her thigh.

She giggled. “I don’t know if I can top your virginity story. Who goes to McDonalds afterwards?”

“We got hungry!”

Her eyelids fluttered open and shut, feeling the familiar tingle between her thighs when he touched her. “Stop- you’re distracting me.” She mocked. Sebastian pretended he didn’t hear and continue to tease. She opened her eyes back to find those blue stunning eyes peering down at her with a pleased smile. Camille pressed her lips together and squirmed under his gaze. She knew he was trying to rattle her, but she wasn’t going to let him win.

She cleared her throat and raised a defiant eyebrow at him. “Okay- this story covers both.”

He grimaced and pulled his hand away, completely distracted now. “Whoa-that’s cheating!” he accused. “Of course first times are bad.”

Camille reached back and pushed a pillow behind her head. “You want to hear the story or not?” she threaten with a hint of a smirk. He glowered, but didn’t respond. “I had just turned 15 and this guy I was seeing at the time was 17. Of course Tia Yolanda did not know that-no will she ever.” She added poignantly. “Anyway I had told her I was staying the night a Carolina’s and snuck out to meet him. He had just gotten a car so of course I thought he was super cool-“

She lifted her head when she heard Sebastian making snoring noises. She glanced over at him and he hanged his head to one side, tongue out, pretending to be asleep.

She scowled and poked his side with her foot. “You’re such an ass.”

He chortled then shook his head. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m done-continue.” But Camille only glared back. “Will you stop pouting?” he asked with a small smile. She kept her composure, not saying a word. He let out an exaggerated sigh and crawled toward her. “You’re so stubborn.” Hovering above her and gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

She avoided eye contact, but felt the butterflies in her belly, when his warm breath hit her face. She flinched for a split second as one arm came around her waist and he drew her upward toward his hard body at the same time his lips came down and touched hers in a gentle kiss. She felt her body relax against him and kissed back.

They kissed tenderly for a few moments, then Sebastian pulled away, his blue eyes soft. “Sorry for being an ass.” He apologized. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, trying to hide the smile. “What can I do to make it up to you?” he teasingly asked, his nose nuzzling behind her ear as his hand roamed up and down her thigh. “God- you always smell so fucking good.” He grunted.

Her eyes fluttered open and shut and slid her arms around his shoulder and neck. Forgetting what they had been talking about. She couldn’t help but snicker when he tickled the side of her face. “Mmmmm.” She purred when he nipped on her earlobe.

“So did you end up losing your virginity in a car?” Sebastian asked in conversational tone, as he stroked the inside of thigh with his knuckles.

“Hmm yeah. You don’t realize how small a backseat is until you have two people trying to maneuver horizontally.” She responded. “And I guess I had high expectations because he finished before we got started.” She added with a sardonic laugh. “So we tried again, because he promised it would better and it was-for him.”

She heard Sebastian’s chuckle alongside her neck. “You let him try again?” he asked incredulously.

“I was fifteen. I didn’t know any better.”

“What you do afterwards?”

“Nothing really. After that experience I swore I was done with sex.” She indicated, feeling his warm fingers grip her hip. “He wasn’t a boyfriend-maybe it would have been different if he had been. He drove me back to my cousin’s and left.”

“Did you ever see him again?” Lifting his head up.

Camille smirked. “Actually yes- 4 years later. We bumped into each other at a college party. He apologized for what happened.”

“And…?” Sebastian pushed as if he knew there was more to the story.

“Let’s just say- he learned a lot from the last time I saw him.” She said sheepishly. “We kind of… ended up doing the friends with benefits things for a few months until he moved to Chicago.” Mindlessly stroking his bare shoulders with her knuckles, a bubble of anxiety suddenly hitting her as Hayley’s words ringed in her ear from their conversation earlier in the night.

She must have zoned out because, she felt him clutch her skin. “What is it?” Sending open mouth kisses along her collarbone.

“Speaking of the whole friends with benefit…” Trailing off and arching her back as he continued his sweet torture. She chewed on her lower lip tensely, trying to concentrate. But it was hard. “Seb-do you remember what I asked you before you pushed me up against the door?” Closing her eyes tightly, her body aching to feel more of him but she knew they had to talk.

“About?”

“Sebastian-we should talk.” She stated firmly. She wanted him to continue his teasing, but the sooner they talked about this- the better. He came to a halt when he hear the tone of her voice. Letting out a small sigh, he pulled back from her and peered down expectantly. “Don’t be mad at me-.”

“I’m not mad at you.” He interrupted, completely pulling away and sitting back down. “I know we have to. I just figured I could try and distract you.” He added with a guilty smile.

Camille couldn’t help but sigh in relief at his words, glad he was on the same page as her. She looked back up at him. “What?” she asked, feeling his eyes transfixed on her.

He gave a slight shake of his head. “Nothing. I’m waiting on you to start.” He said almost mockingly.

“Thanks for not making it awkward.” She stated sarcastically and sat up.

“Camille-.” Reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “Baby, it’s going to be awkward. Who said these type of conversations were fun?” he paused. “Listen-I meant what I said back in Big Sur-there’s no pressure-.”

“I know. I just mean like- in regards to seeing other people. I mean- we aren’t exclusive so that doesn’t matter, but I’m so far away and it’s not fair-.” She stopped abruptly and sneaked a peek. He was looking at her with amusement. “You’re just gonna let me blab on?”

“Pretty much-yeah.” He responded with a nod and an airy chuckle. His face quickly turned somber. “I’m not seeing anyone exclusive if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Camille quickly shook her head, reaching out to stroke his chin. “Stop. You’re allowed to see whoever you want.” She bit down on her lower lip, trying to collect her thoughts. “I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. We’re thousands of miles away from each other- I don’t have any expectations when I get back. Maybe a heads up?” she suggested, her face warm. She knew it wasn’t making any sense.

“A heads up?” Sebastian repeated slowly.

“Yeah. If you’re seeing somebody. That way I don’t make a fool of myself. You know? Like throw myself at you or something.” She sputtered on. She looked nervously over at him and he nodded in understanding, yet his face didn’t give anything away. “Seb-when we’re together it’s amazing. But I’m not-.”

“Come here.” Tugging on her hand, he pulled her unto his lap. Instinctively, she looped one arm around his shoulder. “I’m not seeing anyone right now.” He repeated softly, rubbing his hand up and down her back soothingly.

“I know that. But that’s what I’m trying to say, it’s not fair-to wait around.” Not meeting his gaze. “For the sake of our friendship-“

“We already ruin that don’t you think?” he teased with a nose scrunch.

“You know what I mean. If you’re looking for more-then maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. I mean it’s just not fair. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Hey- shh. I agreed to this remember? You’re aren’t holding me back. But you’re right- we should tell each other when and if new people enter our lives. Maybe not in full detail…but out of courtesy.”

Camille nodded in agreement. How did he do it? How was he able to soothe her? Over the past year he had become the calmness over chaos that was her anxiety, her voice of reasoning when she felt there wasn’t one.

“What if we wreck this?” She couldn’t help but ask. All her fears and insecurities seeping out now and she couldn’t control it.

“Do you think we will?”

“I don’t know.” Camille answered honestly, running her fingers through his now messy hair.

God he was beautiful, with those gorgeous blue orbs that made her melt, and the soft smile he always had reserved just for her whenever she looked at him.

“Camille?”

“Hmm?”

He placed a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to face him again. “We can end this- we can say goodbye tomorrow and we can just go back to how things were- if that’s what you want.” His voice low, his eyes wide- as if he wasn’t sure which way she would go.

Cupping his face with both hands, Camille drew him closer and bend down, brushing her lips tenderly against his. She heard him sigh, as his mouth kissed back. Sebastian pulled away from her lips and smiled.

“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?”

Camille laughed lightly, the tension from a few moments ago dissolving when she looked down at him. His blue arises filled with hope, but also fear now. There was no backing out of this now. Whatever it turned out to be. Letting out a large exhale, she replied in a whisper. “No.”

She watched his smile grow and reach all the way to his eyes before he tugged her face to his again.

***

“You have to push the button for it to move Ojos Azules.” Sebastian heard Camille tease next to him. He looked down at her, just as she playfully elbowed him.

“Has anyone ever mentioned how bossy you are?” He shot back with a wrinkle of his nose, but pushed the elevator button at the same time.

“Just you.”

He snorted at her quick witted response. A hint of sadness hitting the pit of the stomach when he realized why they were in the elevator in the first place. Their time was coming to an end. It was 430 in the morning and he was walking her to the underground parking lot where a car was waiting to drop her off to the airport. He couldn’t believe how quick the past 36 hours had gone. It felt like she had just gotten there, then again it had been nonstop since she arrived. After the premiere and alone time in her room they finally fell asleep for a couple of hours, then got up to meet Georgeta for brunch.

After brunch they went their separate ways for a few hours-he had to finish up a few more interviews- he wished he hadn’t agreed on prior to Camille showing up, but he couldn’t back out. So while he was doing that-Camille and Georgeta apparently spent the afternoon together, shopping and enjoying the Los Angeles sun. By late afternoon, he had been done and met up with them for dinner before his mother had to head out to the airport. They said goodbye to her and then they were alone again- at least until it was time to say goodbye to her.

He must have been deep in his own thoughts, because he jumped slightly when he felt Camille intertwine her fingers with his and gave it a light squeeze. With a slight shake of his head, he peered down and smiled softly, unsure of what to say. They locked eyes and Camille smiled back before she leaned her body into him, pressing her cheek along his arm for comfort. He squeezed her hand back, silently letting her know, they were on the same page.

They didn’t speak for the next few minutes as they elevator went down. He was dreading saying goodbye, it definitely hadn’t gotten better with time. Especially saying it to Camille.

The conversation they had the day before kept running through his head. He knew there were many scenarios of how this could end up. And her fears and insecurities only mirrored his own. Everything she said, he understood and agreed with-regardless of his feelings for her. It was a seesaw of emotions he was still trying to balance, wanting to be with her but at the same understanding she needed her space. And she needed-deserved someone who would be there for her and he couldn’t promise that, he was a workaholic and just like her career was important to her-he felt the same about his. There was a lot to consider, and knew they made the right decision. It didn’t mean it did not suck.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he heard Camille whisper next to him.

He blinked back to sound of her voice and gave her a half smile as he thought quickly on his feet. “Did you tell Natalie you were going to be here?”

She squinted her eyes in doubt. “Yes... but they didn’t care.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise. She laughed casually. “Mostly, because Nat, Sam and Tia Yolanda are flying out next week to see me.”

They both turned their attention to the ding noise the elevator made-indicating they were in the parking lot. Camille moved first and tugged on his hand to follow, but Sebastian was quicker and grasped her wrist instead. She jumped in surprise. With his other hand, he reached over her and pushed the ‘STOP’ button.

“Seb?”

“I rather give you a proper goodbye in here before we go out there and people start staring.”

“By people- you mean the driver?” she joked. He playfully glared, as his hands toyed with a loose curl. “Are you stalling?” she guessed.

“Yes.” He answered truthfully and tilted his head to one side. “Is it working?”

Giving a playful nose scrunch, she pushed herself on her tiptoes and brushed her lips with his. He closed his eyes, savoring their last moments together. He felt her arms slide up and around his shoulders and neck, chest pressed tightly against his. He instinctively moved his arms down and around her waist. For the next few moments, they stood in the same position as he kissed her back, not wanting to let her go just yet. When he had her this way it made him want to reevaluate everything.

They broke their embrace, and Sebastian stroked her cheek. “What about now?” he asked with a sheepish grin. She peered up at him through her lashes with a sad smile.

“You’re not making it easy.”

Before he could stop his brain or mouth, he blurted out. “Then stay.”

Camille’s eyes grew wide in surprise at his outburst. “Sebastian…” she started softly.

He shook his head dismissively, wishing he hadn’t said it. He cupped her face. “I’m sorry.” He murmured. “We talked about this. It slipped out.” His heart thumping widely in his chest.

Smiling knowingly, she kissed him again. “I get it.” she added breaking from his mouth. “I’m going to miss you.” She whispered.

He stifled a laugh. “I believe that’s the first time you’ve said that to me.” Running his fingers through her curls. Referring to the many times, he’s tried to get her to say it before he left Los Angeles.

She gripped unto his shirt and pulled him close, her eyes dancing. “Don’t get used to it Ojos Azules.” Giving him one last peck before she pushed the button to open the elevator door. “C’mon, I need to get going.” Reaching for his hand.

He followed in toe, but before they fully stepped out of the elevator, he brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m going to miss you too dragoste.” He whispered, unsure of what else to say to not make this harder than it already was.

@mydragulesebastian @its-daydreamer23 @janeyboo @peaceinourtime82

@jhangelface0523

#unthinkable #Sebastian Stan #sebastian #seba #seb stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #Latina

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parkkjiminssi · 6 years ago

Text

Outcast

Kim Taehyung x Reader | social media au

Part 10: How

In a world where superpowers exist, you would think that there’s no such thing as being different. Y/N, however, was branded with that tittle early in her childhood days after almost destroying her school and hurting her classmates. In attempts of escaping her past, Y/N attends to a high school that’s in a neighboring city. What will happen when Y/N meets the Elite Nine? What will happen when Y/N meets a boy named Kim Taehyung?

tag list: @astronomyturtle, @namiiy, @momdancingtomcr, @perseephony, @moonfairyjoon, @vstellarkth, @stephgiriseok

word count: 2.9K

a/n: I’m sorry this is so long 🥺 I just wanted to throw some fluff at you guys. Like always links are on my bio!

Y/N and Taehyung:

Today was just a chaotic as yesterday had been. A lot of questions were left hanging in the air and of course you all were looking for answers.

“Where’s Kay?” Avery asked once all of you, well most of you, were sitting on your usual table.

“She didn’t wanted to come to school today.” Lynn responded as she swallowed the bite she had taken out of her rice ball. “I guess she wasn’t ready to face Jimin.”

“Speaking of Jimin,” Avery continued, now turning to you. “where is he? He’s not with the boys.”

“As soon as he walked into class and didn’t see Kay, he tried leaving but Mr. Shin trapped him into a force field.” You answered. “I’m guessing now that it’s lunchtime and Mr. Shin is no longer on top of him, he’ll be leaving one way or the other.”

“To be honest, it was about time somebody said something. Neither of them were ever going to say anything even if they’re dying of love for each other.” Avery said as she took a bite of her own rice ball.

“That’s just the way Kay is. She’s afraid to get attached.” Lynn said with a sad chuckle. “I guess she’s actually just afraid of going back to that hellhole. As if I’ll let that happen.”

You placed you hand on top of Lynn’s trying to provide comfort. “We won’t let that happen if the time ever comes.”

“Which it won’t!” Avery added.

“But if it does, we won’t allow for anything to happen to her.” You finished.

Avery looked over her shoulder and waved at Namjoon. He returned the wave with a dimpled smile. It made you uncomfortable the fact that due to your disagreement with Taehyung, now the boys were eating separately from the girls.

“Avery, you don’t have to be here with me you know.” You said while sipping on your juice nervously. “You should be with your boyfriend.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay, Y/N. I really don’t mind it!” She said cheerfully. “Anyways, has anyone seen Jinx? She hasn’t arrived yet.”

“I saw her hiding.” Lynn said as she now took a bite out of her dessert. “I’m guessing she’s also avoiding Jungkook.”

“Wow, it’s not like her to miss class. I hope they all fix this, Namjoon will get a stroke. He’s already super stressed with all his president duties.” Avery said in between laughs.

Lynn and yourself joined Avery in the laughter.

Little did you know that a certain blonde haired boy was watching you, wishing that he could be there next to you. Laughing with you.

“Stop starring.” Hoseok murmured without looking up from his plate.

“What are you talking about?” Taehyung asked confused.

“Just go and talk to her. I’m sure she’s forgotten everything by now.” Namjoon added in.

“N-no, I can’t.” Was the only thing Taehyung said before stuffing his mouth with food, unable to say anything else.

More like refusing to answer anything else.

Subconsciously, Taehyung’s graze fell upon you once again. However, this time you also turned to look at him. Your eyes locked for a small moment but as soon the two of you realized what had happened, you quickly looked away.

I’m sorry, Taehyung.

Jimin and Kay:

Jimin was determined to speak with Kay about what had been said in the chat last night. He wanted to know if it was true, he needed to know. He had tried to contact her through any means possible. Text, call, kakaotalk, email, FaceTime, Snapchat but Kay just wasn’t answering. And as soon as Jimin saw that Kay wasn’t at school, his whole plans went down the drain.

He tried his best to leave. To go find Kay. Unfortunately Mr. Shin wasn’t having it, and trapped him inside a force field throughout the whole morning.

“Any sudden movements and I’ll make sure to close this field on you. I’m sure you don’t want to die crushed.” Was the only thing he needed to say to get Jimin to settle down.

“Jimin, calm down. We’ll think of something.” Taehyung whispered to him when Mr. Shin had turned around to write on the board.

“Thank you, Tae.” Jimin replied with a sad smile.

Lunchtime soon came around and there were still no signs of Kay.

As he walked towards the cafeteria, he bumped into Lynn and asked her about Kay.

“She stayed home. I’m sorry, you know how she is.” Lynn said while looking down. “She’s just afraid, you know, of that place.Which has nothing to do with this, but she’s just being dumb.”

“Like hell I’m going to let those bastards lay a hand on her.” Was the last thing he said before taking off running. To where? Well, to the Clearwater’s home. To Kay’s home.

“Wow, Jimin looked so cool right now.” Yoongi finally spoke after a long moment of silence.

Jimin ran. The dumbass could’ve just taken his car, but in a moment of frustration like this, this was the only thing that came to his mind. Later he came to regret this decision when his legs were sore and couldn’t climb up the tree next to Kay’s window. Regardless, he still climbed and knocked on her window.

Kay tried her best to ignore him. To pretend that he wasn’t there but Jimin screaming at her was very hard to ignore and very hard not to laugh at.

“Kay, you better open this fucking window. You don’t know what I’ve been through to get here.” He screamed in between pants, his cheeks red from all the running. “If you don’t open it, I swear I’m going to bust it open.”

“Fine, fine!” Kay eclaimed as she finally opened the window and helped Jimin climb through it. “What do you want?”

“Really? What do I want?! Not even a glass of water or—“

Jimin was cut off by a splash of water on his face, courtesy of none other than Kay herself.

“Kay, can’t you be serious for just a moment?!” Jimin said frustrated, his hands grabbing on to Kay’s arms. “Why haven’t you answered my calls or my texts? Why didn’t you go to school?”

“Why? So you could laugh at me or tease me?” Kay said as she tried her best to free herself from Jimin’s hold.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’ve only seen me as your best friend and I’m so in love with you.” Kay yelled, tears finally streaming down her face. Thank god that her parents were out working. Otherwise, Mr. Clearwater would’ve busted in to Kay’s room ready to pummel whoever it was that had made his daughter scream like that.

“Kay, all this time I was the one that was in love with you and thought that you only saw me as your best friend.” Jimin sighed, his hands letting go of Kay’s arms and embracing her instead.

“Y-you in love with me?” Kay asked. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I don’t know, Kay.” Jimin said as he gently stroked her back, trying to comfort her. “I guess I was just always scared or had this idea that you’d never see me as anything more than your best friend.”

“That’s just silly. You seriously could never tell all those times that I would flirt with you?” Kay pulled away to look at Jimin in the eyes.

“Well now it does sound silly and no I couldn’t.” He said looking away. “I was just always trying not to think too much out of things so our friendship wouldn’t become awkward. I guess I just didn’t wanted to lose you, it didn’t matter if we stayed friends forever. I was content with being just that.”

“But I know that the moment you started dating someone else, I was most likely going to lose it. Kay, please hear me out.” Jimin finally gathered the courage to look at Kay in the eyes. It was now or never. “I know that you live in constant fear that one day those assholes from the center will come back for you. That that’s why you’re afraid to form bonds and get attached.”

“Jimin, I—“

“No, please let me talk. If I don’t say it now then who knows when I’ll gather up the courage to say it again. Maybe another five years will pass by.” Jimin cut Kay off, causing a soft giggle to escape her lips.

“When I first met you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the entire world. As we started to talk more, I just became more and more entranced with you. From there, our friendship grew and you became comfortable enough to share your story with me. Still to this day, I feel very honored to know that I was the first person you ever confided in about this aside from your family, of course.” The two of them smiled at the memories. Of how close they had gotten in these five years. Of everything they had gone through together. “Kay, ever since that day I made myself a promise to not let those sons of bitches lay a hand on you ever again. I’ve been training and doing everything in my power to become stronger, so when that day comes I’ll be ready.”

Kay was practically sobbing at this point. She always felt like shouldn’t enjoy her life because sooner or later it would be over once again. Oh how she hated that place and the people that ran it. How she hated the fact that she always had to be watching her back and how she didn’t feel like a human at all. That she was only an experiment for them and nothing else.

“Kay, you deserve to live a normal life.” Jimin said as he whipped off her tears. “You also need to learn to depend on others and that it’s okay to show weakness every once in a while. Because unlike before, you have us by your side now. Kay, I love you so much and I won’t let anything ever happen to you.”

“I-I love you too.” Kay said in between sobs.

“I loooove you! Marry me Rebecca!”

“D-did you just quote catbug?” Kay looked up at him, a smile growing on her face.

The two of them started laughing out loud. The sadness and frustration from a while ago were long gone. This is what Kay loved the most about Jimin, he always managed to find a way to make her smile. After a couple of minutes, the two of them finally managed to calm down.

“Jimin, I love you so much. I really do, but I—“

“I know, I know.” Wow, Jimin was surely doing a lot of interrupting today. “I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Can I ask for one thing, though?”

“Sure.” Kay looked up at him with curiosity.

“Can I kiss you every now and then?”

A slight blush appeared on Kay’s cheeks. She definitely didn’t expect something like this, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like the idea. “Yes you—“

Before Kay could finish, once again, Jimin took her in him arms and kissed her.

How the two of them had been wanting to this for a very long time. How lucky they were to have each other.

Jungkook and Jinx:

To say that Jungkook had looked everywhere was an understatement.

Jungkook had left no stone unturned trying to look for Jinx, but somehow the girl was nowhere to find. It was like she had become invisible or something.

Wait a minute.

...

“SHE FUCKING TURNED INVISIBLE!” Jungkook shouted in frustration.

How had he not thought about this before? He had spent the whole day looking and he even missed lunch time, which according to him was his favorite class despite what everyone said. How dare they say it’s not in the curriculum?

Jungkook sighed. He was exhausted. He walked over to a nearby bending machine and pulled out a few coins from his pants. Just as he was about to choose his drink, he noticed something odd on the reflection.

A floating school uniform?

Well, it’s now or never.

He selected the banana drink before reaching for his phone in his pocket. Jungkook pretended to click on his phone and then placed it against his ear.

“Hey.” He started saying.

Meanwhile, Jinx was standing right behind him. Hiding in between a fake plant and a wall. She never thought she would have to resort to something like this to avoid Jungkook. This boy sure was persistent and she just wasn’t ready for this.

“No, I can’t seem to find her.” He continued. “I don’t know, dude. I’ve looked everywhere, it’s like she vanished.” Pause. “Maybe she decided that after all I wasn’t such a good guy to have a crush on.”

No, that’s not true. Jinx thought.

“At times I can be too childish and irresponsible. I play around too much and my grades are not the best but my feelings for her are not a joke.” Pause. “Since the first moment I saw her, something clicked inside me. I know I probably seemed pretty weird because I kept on starring but can you blame me? She’s so perfect. She’s so smart and so funny.”

A smile started forming on Jinx’s features. Jungkook’s words made her feel all warm inside.

“She never gets mad when I ask her to explain something to me or if she can help me with my homework. Jinx is so sweet and compassionate.” Pause. “Yeah, perhaps I should leave her alone. There’s a reason why she’s been avoiding me.”

“That’s not true!”

Surprised, Jungkook turned around and slowly started putting his phone away in his pocket. He honestly didn’t think she was going to come out of hiding.

But there she was, completely visible and slowly walking up to him. Jinx extended her arm and with her small hand she grabbed on to his blazer.

“I’m not avoiding you.” She finally said. “I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?” Confusion evident on his voice.

“It’s just, I’m so used to being on top of my studies. I want to go to a good college and help my family.” Jinx kept her head down. She just couldn’t bring herself to look at Jungkook in the eyes. “I’ve never felt something like this for anyone. When I started liking you I got scared. Scared that maybe my grades would drop and of these new feelings. I also get scared that maybe one day you’ll get bored of a girl like me and leave.”

“A girl like you?”

“A girl that doesn’t know anything about liking someone or how to do anything other than studying and not being—.”

Jungkook placed a finger on Jinx’s lips to stop her from continuing talking. His bunny smile slowly growing.

“Jinx, I like you for you. You don’t have to change anything about you, because you’re perfect for me.” Jungkook removed his finger from her lips and started stroking her cheek. “I could never get bored of you. I learn something new about you everyday, all in all I just can’t get enough of you. But look, if this is going too fast then I’m willing to wait. I will wait for you until you’re ready. No rush, really! I know it’s been a few months since we met and all.”

“You’ll wait for me?” Jinx finally lifted her head to look at Jungkook.

“Of course! Just please don’t stop liking me in the meantime.” Jungkook said nervously. “My heart won’t be able to take it.”

“Jungkook, maybe for the first time in my life I should start living my life in the moment.” Her heart was beating a hundred miles per hour but she knew she wanted this. Jinx had never been so sure. “I like you, Jungkook. When I’m with you, you always make me forget about all my troubles. I forget about school, grades, college and getting a good career. There’s no worries with you and you actually make me feel like a fourteen year old girl. You’re right, it’s only been a few months and it’s crazy but I never thought that I would feel like this for you.”

Jungkook took Jinx’s hands in his and brought it up to his lips. He placed a small, gentle kiss on each hand. “Jinx, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Jinx threw her arms around Jungkook and bobbed her head up and down in excitement. “Yes, of course I would like to be your girlfriend!”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around her waist and gently picked Jinx up and spinner her around. He then placed her on the ground just as gently as he had picked her up. Jungkook pressed his forehead against hers.

Jinx closed her eyes and smiled. “Jeon Jungkook, please treat me nicely. You’re my first boyfriend.”

Before Jungkook could say anything, they heard footsteps coming down the hall. It was most likely a teacher or a hall monitor and if they were caught, they were going to get detention for sure!

Jungkook wrapped his hand around Jinx’s and pulled her along with him. “Run!”

“Where are we going?” Jinx asked. She definitely didn’t wanted to ruin her school record that soon.

“Anywhere! I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Jungkook said and he kept on running with Jinx’s hand in his. A slight blush tinted Jinx’s cheeks and a small smile rugged at the corners of her lips.

Jeon Jungkook. He surely was going to change her life.

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shazyloren · 6 years ago

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Sticky Notes

Summary: Someone is leaving Daenerys Targaryen sticky notes with quotes of love on them all around the office. She doesn't know who it is, but when it click, her world will never be the same.

Notes: So this year, I am taking part in a challenge on tumblr by user @jonerysfics and @mhysaofdragons in which for seven days from Valentines day I am uploading a new one shot. So Day 1, 14th February, which is when I'm uploading this, the prompt I chose was 'Secret Admirer'. This is the story I came up with.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780852

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Another one.

Daenerys grabbed the pink sticky note from her computer screen and eyed the writing. Calligraphy, handwriting that wasn’t familiar to her in the moment. The fountain pen used for this had danced across the paper surface with freedom and expression, the same as before.

Someone was leaving her love notes across the office, someone in the company she worked for. How did they know she was single and wanting a date anyway? They were clearly just assuming as it was Valentine’s Day at the end of the week. She quickly places the notes in her folder without anyone else seeing, sliding it amongst the pile of other she’d found that week.

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams - Dr. Seuss.

And the quote, of similar calibre to ones her frantic eyes had read on the others. She didn’t mind, in fact, it made her flush like a woman who had never been complimented before. But this was crazy, she had no possible clue who could be leaving her these notes.

She’d made a list of the potential men who could’ve left the note and had reasonable grounds to believe it was none of them, almost all of the men in the office were married or gay, so who on this plain of existence was leaving her the notes? Sliding into her lumbar support chair, she opens her notepad to the list of potential men and went through the list with suspicion.

Jaime Lannister was a man in a position of wealth near the top of the ranks in the company, but that was unlikely, he was spending Valentine’s with his sister who had just endured a bad divorce, to take her mind off of things. He was a man of good looks, but the calligraphy was certainly not his, she’d read his reports and the typos present was enough to know this wasn’t his work.

Gendry Waters was head over heels for Arya Stark, head of communications, so unless she’s beaten him up and finally forced him to move on then she completely doubted that it was him. The boy man spent most of his day talking about her or making excuses to visit her department and leaving Daenerys love notes was not on that same line of thinking.

Frustrated, Dany shuts the notepad and decides she can’t even focus on her paperwork without some coffee in her system. So, asking the others at their desks if they wanted a drink and not getting a single reply from anyone (everyone seemed to be grump today) she toddled off to the staff room for a caffeine boost.

Head of Administration, can pick out a mistake in a report from a mile away but cannot deduce who is leaving her love notes around the office. And that no one else had noticed was even more of an intriguing factor for her. The fact that the bright pink heart sticky notes had been dotted everywhere with this beautiful blue inked calligraphy had not been seen by another human was completely mind boggling to her.

She pushes the heavy staff room door open, her small, slender frame sliding through as others come out of the way to let her by. Once she passed through the door, she quickly walked over to her locker in which she keeps her special coffee that no one else is allowed to touch.

Searching for the keys in her small jacket pocket, she finds the right combination on her lock before twisting the key in the mechanism and opening it. Her breath catches in her throat as the locker door swings open, revealing her mug and her coffee, with a little pink love heart stuck on the mug.

How?

Her heart is hammering fast in her chest, pumping oxygen quickly around her body as she tries to keep her breathing going. She can’t, she’s speechless, shocked. How had they got into her locker? How did they know the combination? And how did they manage to resist her special coffee? Surely there’s a security risk with this… unless it was security?

I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once - John Green

Her eyes scanned the note, completely frozen into the spot her feet were placed. All of these notes, admissions of love that Dany had never known before. Destruction, that’s all her relationships had been, fiery chasms which were doomed from the start. Yet this person, so effortlessly loved her, or at least admired her enough to wonder what it was like to love her.

She grabbed her mug and coffee, and slammed the locker shut for short of not wanting to be missing from the office for too long, but her mind was racing. Images in her mind of a faceless man, mysterious yet handsome, his hands touching her, his arms embracing her. It had been a while, for it wasn’t like her to just go with random guys in bars or clubs. But loneliness was deeply rooted in her, and like all women, they find the right time will eventually come.

What was she even thinking? A man or woman even, that she did not know of, was leaving her love notes in the office, opening their heart in a way that was completely unexpected and she should find it odd, peculiar. Yet her she was, emotionally affected in the opposite way, it was endearing, sweet.

No Jaime Lannister could concoct this together, no Gendry Waters would even find the time to think of her in this moment, so who was it? Who was leaving these morsels of affection for her? She couldn’t think as she switched the kettle on and filled her coffee mug with a spoonful of her special blend.

She needed milk, she somehow remembered, as images fill her mind of every outcome of this thing that had been happening. Maybe it was someone from the basement, on of the dodgy technicians who can’t even say a word to her when she goes down to complain, who just sweat nervously and scamper away. It would be a disappointment if it was.

She opened the fridge, her heart in her mouth as she prayed it wasn’t one of them, but it all stopped again when she spied the same colour and writing attached to her small carton of orange lidded milk. 1% fat, perfect for the amount of caffeine she intakes for the day, now sporting a ig, pink heart on it.

Everyone knew the orange was hers, so this wouldn’t be something hard for people to find out, but the fact that someone had gone to this effort, when if they’d liked her they should’ve just asked. Maybe they were scared, had a fear of rejection. Or maybe they wanted to play with her emotions like some sick freak who got off on toying with her. Maybe it was none of those things.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever - Alfred Tennyson.

Daenerys Targaryen had never blushed like she had in this moment, she wondered what all this would come to, whether she would find out who it was and what they possibly wanted from her. The idea that someone is so consumed and in awe of a simple girl like herself was completely bonkers, that he thought on her daily and would be able to create an Eden for them both to glide through.

Feeling stressed, she put both notes in her pocket, placed her coffee back in her locker and made the coffee with haste. A few minutes later, she was returning to her desk with a headache from thinking too much and a conundrum she was sure to fail in figuring out.

Sliding in her seat, she pulled the two notes out of her pocket and added them to the other fourteen now present in her folder. She put the folder away, and booted her computer. She needed to focus on the work, she had a lot to do that week and she couldn’t be distracted by someone’s obsession with her. Even if she wanted nothing more than to know who it was, she had priorities.

“Miss. Targaryen” Daenerys hears Jaime Lannister say from across the room about one hour into her shift, her mind forcing her to think about work and numbers and emails and orderings so that she doesn’t linger on the pink hearts. She looks at the man impatiently as if she was annoyed he’d disturbed her momentary peace. She notices he’s holding the phone from his desk in her hand. “Boss wants a word”

“Oh, okay” She shakes her head and straightens herself up. She nods in Jaime’s direction as a thank you before gathering herself and beginning a walk up to Boss’ office. It was top floor and while most people took the elevators, Dany preferred the stairs, it got her exercise in.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever, We accept the love we think we deserve, I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul, One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving, You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

She couldn’t help but think about all the messages she’d received over the past few days, notions of love and affection that made her feel gooey. Now wasn’t the time, especially when she had been summoned by the boss. He’ll be wanting an update on Gendry’s progress she suspected, he was a new starter and was coming up to his review period. But all she could think off was this secret admirer.

She reached his office on the top floor of the building and knocked when his secretary outside said it was okay for her to enter. She opened the door and breathed in a little when the smell of lemons and mint hit her nose. It was always pleasant when she entered the office, that familiar smell was almost comforting to her. He could fire her and she’d still be calm.

“Good Morning, Mr. Snow” She uttered politely, smiling and wandering over to his desk. He was writing something on the computer, his glasses on the edge of his nose as he began clicking the screen with his mouse. He looked up from the table and his eyes met hers.

“Hello, Daenerys” His gruff, northern accent chimed as he finished his last bits of business on the computer, a small smirk present on the corner of his lips. She hardly saw him, maybe only once every few weeks as he was always working between the three different buildings they had in the city, but she always forgot how young he was for a CEO and how handsome he was. “Please, take a seat”

She nods before sitting opposite him, nerves kicking in as to what he wanted to say to her. “So, Mr. Lannister said you wanted to see me about something, sir?”

“Daenerys…” He started with a sigh, deep and clear across the room it sounded. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jon and not sir? You make me feel ancient when you address me as such”

“Only every time we talk, sir” Dany meekly grinned.

“From now on, it’s Jon, okay?” He warned. She just nodded, them both knowing she wouldn’t do as such and would still refer to him as sir or Mr. Snow. “So, I just wanted a quick chat, don’t worry you’ve done nothing wrong, quite the opposite actually” He mused. “I’ve been going over the figures and reports a lot the last few days and as the company is ever expanding, I’m needing to expand the Admin team”

“Oh” She blinked in surprise.

“I’ll be putting a post up for two new positions within the Administration department, one a regular Administrator and one, the Head of Administration” He spoke cryptically. Daenerys was confused, she was the Head of Administration. “Sansa is leaving her position, she’s my Reports Analyst on the board and her position has opened up, I’d like you to fill it”

This has been the strangest day of my life so far , she mused inwardly as his words was over her in complete and utter surprise. There was many things going on in her life, and she did not expect that this week would bring about a secret admirer and an offer of a position three steps above her current job.

“Sir, I can’t-”

“Jon, first off” He intercedes. “And secondly, you certainly can and you certainly will”

“Jon…” She winces as she speaks his name, making this meeting become too informal. “I have no training in that sort of field, I do Admin sure but that role is Admin, Payroll and HR all rolled into one. If I do it I won’t be able to complete it with satisfaction”

“Daenerys Targaryen, for too long you and your clever mind have been sat down in that Admin office not being tested enough, for too long you’ve been dealing with Gendry pining over my sister and Jamie Lannister picking his nose. It’s time you had a challenge, and I know you’re up to it” He reassured.

She was consumed by confusion and surprise and sweetness and fear. Everything rolled into one as the events of the day (that had only been an hour give or take) melded into her mind and warped her vision slightly. She wanted to accept, she wanted to be free of this doubt crawling under her pale skin. But she just couldn’t do it, and she didn’t know why. “I’m sorry but, this is a huge step, it’s a lot to think about and…”

“Have you ever read The Perks of Being a Wallflower?” He asks suddenly, causing Daenerys to be sidelined by her own thoughts. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. “My sister Sansa recommended it to me when we were younger, and there’s always a quote that has stuck with me some eight years later. We accept the love we think we deserve, and it’s completely true”

“Huh?” Dany blinks. We accept the love we think we deserve, We accept the love we think we deserve, We accept the love we think we deserve, We accept the love we think we deserve .

“Obviously in this case it’s praise, you don’t think you’re worth-” She cuts him off.

“It’s you” She says suddenly, her brain exploding all at once. We accept the love we think we deserve . She glances to his desk and spies on the corner, a small bottle of ink and a fountain pen. Her breathing is shaky, as she looks around the desk for pink heart sticky notes but can’t find anything, all she can find is his hands, gripping the edge of his table.

“Dany, are you okay?” He asks, his own voice cracking.

“Why” She demanded to know.

“Why what?” He asked, a raised eyebrow.

“Jon Snow don’t you give me that eyebrow, why me?” She stands in her seat, eyes steely as she pierced his own gaze with her knife one.

It all made sense in her mind, he would have the master key to lockers besides the janitors so that would make sense into how he got into the locker. It was a known fact about the milk so leaving a note like that in the fridge wasn’t a bother. And him sticking a note on her PC would be easier than most, he was allowed anywhere in the building and wouldn’t be noticed if he stood near a desk. He knew her car, so when she’d left last night and there was on on there…

Her mind was racing, suddenly the mysterious and intense faceless man from her mind had his face, and somehow it was a match-up. His eyes were wide and yet somehow his face had softened when she looked at him. She knew she was red in the face, that the embarrassment of all these acts of devotion were easily readable on her features.

“I… felt something, when I looked at you that I had never felt before” He stumbles. “Corny as it sounds that feeling was the only thing stopping me being drowned in work and bullshit from the family and all the craziness my life seems to want to throw at me as of late. There’s things going on, things that mean soon I will have to let go of this company”

“What…”

“Things I don’t wish to speak off, or I may be lost in the dreariness and doubt that this thing brings with it. I was bold, and stupid yes, in what I started doing last week, but time was running out Dany, and I needed you to be that source of light once again, I needed you to know, to have something good to remember me by”

Daenerys tried to deconstruct the riddles in her mind, but she was coming up blank. Something is running out of time, his time here was, and he wanted to act fast, he was having to give up the company for something. His sister, Sansa was leaving her position. It was all confusing, all overwhelming. But what did feelings for her have to do with all of this?

“I’ve accomplished so much in such a short space of time, I’ve allowed myself to become the very best CEO that there ever was and the happiness of my staff is something I’m proud off. But I’ve been lying to myself for a long time now, and things have changed. And you are part of that change in me. If only for a small while”

Dany doesn’t know how or why it all clicked into place, but it did suddenly. Her mouth hung open, her eyes watery as she realised the ramifications of what he’s saying. “You’re sick” He doesn’t reply immediately, he doesn’t have to. He just bows his head into a low nod and let’s the moment breathe. “How long?”

“For a while, a headache that I couldn’t shake” He confirmed. “Went to the doctors and lit up like a Christmas tree, as such. I don’t know when, and I don’t want to know in all honesty, but I know that if I didn’t do something for you before I left this company and this world, I’d end up being furious with myself in the afterlife, if there is such a thing as one”

She couldn’t process this, but the feeling of admiration and love she’d held inside her this morning was replaced with a melancholy sadness that she’d never experience before. “Sansa… is she?”

“She will be CEO after me, yes” He nodded, rubbing his head as if he was already tired and wishing to go and lie down somewhere. “So please, take her position” Daenerys didn’t say anything for a while, she was just aghast as the information overload that had been handed to her. “I’ve never said this out loud, but you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen”

The air is hot suddenly, and she feels the warmth of his words hit her somewhere deep. Tears were hot and heavy in her eyes, and her heart ached for this man before her. A man she didn’t know very well, who doted upon her, a man she wished she’d got to know better. She was so sidelined by the revelation that she didn’t even notice him coming around to her side of the table and sitting in the other chair next to her.

“It’s not my place to ask this of you, and if you have plans then I shall be respectful and accept your wishes. But this Thursday will be my last Valentine’s Day on this earth, and I would like to take you to dinner, if it pleases you as such” He was leaning on the chair arm for support, his hand shaking a little.

Daenerys was so overwhelmed. She had been offered a brand new position, found out the boss was dying and had a crush on her all within the space of five minutes. Her mind was doing a million calculations and as she stared into his eyes, on the seat directly adjacent to hers, she couldn’t find it within herself to deny him of this.

“Kiss me” She demands, grasping what little amount of power she had in the room, trying not to be overwhelmed by the heartbreak that was sure to follow in the coming weeks. “Kiss me and show me that your feelings are true, that you really do like me and I will do everything in my power to be there for you”

There’s a moment just when the world around them completely stops, that time stands still and everything else fades away. There’s no ticking clock teasing them of time they have left, there’s no one to tell them to not do this reckless thing that was about to happen, there was only her and him. His eyes held a small amount of lust but mostly regret. She wonders if perhaps he’s wishing he’d said something to her years ago when he hired her, instead of waiting for this catalyst that had spurred him on.

But when he places a hand on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears she had spilt for him, she felt warmth and love and devotion. The same feeling she got when reading those notes the past few days.

And so, their lips join.

Bittersweet, that was her overwhelming feeling as his soft lips move in sync with her own. It’s glorious, wonderful, tantalising and crackling all at the same time, but there’s such a sadness to the kiss. She’s never been kissed like it in her entire life, but the she couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through her, the realisation of his confession. She wanted to pull away before she lost herself in this beautiful moment, but she couldn’t, she could only try and help ease his pain in this way.

Daenerys thinks about the feel of his lips on hers that sends her mind into a sensual state of intoxication. She wished more than anything to reach towards his face and touch them lightly but that wish battled the urge to just keep kissing him. The lips were the gateway to the body, in her mind, they were softness, passion and the promise of the sweetness to come.

But there was no sweetness around the corner that she could stomach. Only a looming sense of doom she had been familiar with that came to follow her. But he was a miracle in this moment, a gentleman in the way he’d wooed her, honest in his intentions and heartbreaking in his confession.

When their lips parted, there was an overwhelming silence. In that silence all of their feelings and secrets were laid bare, all of their passions and the spark of love that existed between them. In that moment, in his devoted and secret love, she was strong. One kiss and she had the courage to do what had to be done.

“Jon” She breathed raspily, her hands on his arms as their foreheads touch. There was a moment where neither of them breathed, the air clinging to them as if a verdict would be laid out bare for all. “Thursday night at 7, yeah?”

He sighed deeply, kissing her once more in thanks for giving him that small piece of happiness. “Thursday night at 7” He agreed, leaving small kisses on her neck, causing the skin on her face to feel redder than the lipstick she’d been wearing before the kiss. “Beautiful”

Pink heart sticky notes, oh how I am thankful for you.

It was strange from then on out, she was living in a time bomb where anything could strike at any time. Oblivion was inevitable, but the way he and her faced it together, after that day, was strength to accept what was coming. All she knew was that by the time Thursday came around, and she had finished her dinner date with him, she’d fallen in love the way you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once.

#jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jonerys #jonerysvalentine #mhysaofdragons #jon x daenerys #game of thrones #fanfic

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seraphs-spider-web · 6 years ago

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The borderline’s second favorite person

I remember the first time I saw you. I remember the music that was playing in the background before you walked into the room. I remember the way you made me feel.... I took one look at you and decided that I was going to be just like you when I grew up. My 12 year old brain did not understand the intensity of what I felt but you reciprocated. Out of the 75 kids in the room, you made me feel special. And no, there was nothing romantic in what I felt towards you. You were the guru figure, radiant in your white clothes, sparkling eyes and this aura of self-awareness you seemed to possess. In my head, I made you a god.

Life happened and I became a teenager. I never did forget you but it never occurred to me that I could get in touch with you. But one day, in what seemed like my darkest hour, I wrote to you. I didn’t think you would remember me but you promised me that you did. And so, for five years I continued to write to you. There were silly little things. Never did tell you about the crap at home or my eating disorder or anything really. Just little snippets of my life and you replied. I read every mail of yours over a hundred times, analyzing every sentence, every word and every punctuation mark and when there were fewer exclamation marks than usual, my heart became sad. But however scanty with exclamatory marks your emails were, your replies were the rainbows that colored my bleak life. No. Don’t flatter yourself. You really were not that special. I made you special. I put you up on my highest pedestal and there you stood, looming across me with all the attributes I decorated you with. In my head, you were smart, talented, witty, philosophical and most importantly, a visionary.

So, I worshiped you with every part of my soul. My parched soul that was screaming for love and affection. Every time you sent a few endearments my way, my heart skipped a beat. I was euphoric. And every year on your birthday, I was jubilant. How could I not celebrate the day that marks your existence? But days prior to your birthday would have been spent in thralls of anxiety and nervous bursts of creative energy. You see... I had to make you the most perfect birthday card. With the most beautiful poem. Until I finished making the perfect card, there was no peace. In my head, I was sending out my humble offering to the most beautiful soul, so it had to be perfect, pristine and sublime.

I don’t think I was ever pushy with you. Sent you a mail about twice a month and patiently waited for you to reply. Sent you my cards and it didn’t occur to me that you never once wished me on my birthday. Worshiped you with all I had and it never did occur to me that I was just a silly little fan girl to you. So, one day when I did call you (I never did call you that often.... I knew your time was too important), you rudely remarked that you were not my boyfriend. I was heartbroken. But you taught me a valuable lesson. I knew enough to never love anyone with the force of a small avalanche.

Unfortunately, it turns out that I am pretty dumb. I am now going through these feelings all over again with my therapist. Only unlike you, he did genuinely care about me. My stupid brain refuses to acknowledge the fact that it was his job to care about me for the 45 minutes that he met me. All the unresolved feelings I had for you were transferred to him. And when I told him about you, he was deeply sympathetic and empathetic. I also told him about that one time when you looked at me like you didn’t even know me. My therapist looked affronted that anyone could treat me like that and said “That is so mean. I would never do that to you.” He also said he would never abandon me. But he did anyway.

So thank you “dear teacher” for making me feel like a black hole who needs to be loved and adored by everyone because you didn’t have the decency to treat me like a person. I despise you. I abhor you. I see you now for the arrogant jerk you were. But my head needs to worship someone. Unfortunately, it is now the therapist who has probably wiped me clean from his memory and records.

And me, I am going through heartbreak again.

#therapist love #therapy problems #last therapy session #bpd #bpd love #borderline #crush #actually bpd #actuallymentallyill #im so tired #wanna disappear #heartbreak #heartache #sadness #actually npd

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yourkittywilde · 6 years ago

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love me harder

TAGGING → @yourkittywilde & @sammynolanh

TIME FRAME → April (aka allie has forgotten the date)

LOCATION → Sammy & Kitty’s apartment, LA.

WARNINGS → nsfw

NOTES → sammy’s insecurities come out.

sammy

Sammy wasn’t usually an insecure guy, and he definitely wasn’t the jealous type either, or so he thought. Maybe it was because of the situation and how their relationship had blossomed but seeing Kitty interacting with Mike again made Sammy see red. He never thought it would be a problem, in fact he thought he was over the whole situation of Kitty going to LA and sleeping with another guy. It’s not like they were together but Sammy had always loved Kitty and when he found out he was heartbroken. So seeing this interaction, even online, made him overthink and made him upset. He needed to tell her how he felt, they were engaged and hidden feelings were never good.

kitty

Kitty stopped looking at the time hours ago. Watching the minutes tick by and being stuck doing absolutely nothing of importance was exhausting and brain numbing. Getting home was the highlight of her day. She put her bag on the side table before drinking the last of the coffee in her hand and placing the empty travel mug next to it. Dude had come out to greet her — he was wonderfully predictable like that (regardless of the time of night) — and she assumes Sammy is asleep until she sees the light in their room on.”Hey, babe.” She leans against the door frame tiredly with a small smile on her lips. “I’m glad you’re still awake.”

sammy

Sammy tried his best to keep a smile on his face, putting his phone down to greet his fiancé. He reached out to pull her in for a hug and a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, Kitty... You are?” He smirked slightly. “How was your day?” He asked as he rubbed her back gently.

kitty

Kitty wraps her arms around him, smiling into his embrace. She really did love this man. Her eyebrows furrow for a second, it was weird for Sammy to use her name rather than a pet name in casual conversation. “I am.” She nods, pulling back from him. “I missed your face.” The blonde shrugs at his question, really not wanting to talk about work. “Long. And your day? ... Miss me?”

sammy

Sammy nodded. “It felt long as well...” he replied, letting the girl pull back when normally he’d probably hold her tightly against him until she begged off with a laugh. He felt weird, he felt like he had stumbled on something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing but the messages were public and they were innocent but still it bothered him so much. He felt a little crazy and paranoid. Had Sammy lost his touch?

kitty

“Yeah? What did you get up to all day?” She questions, moving to sit on the bed and tugging at his hand for him to join her. She studies his face briefly as she bites gently on her lower lip. It wasn’t like she expected him to be super affectionate and happy all the time, but it was Sammy, he sort of just... was. At least when it came to her. “You okay?” Kitty asks, squeezing his hand softly.

sammy

Sammy sat up with a sigh. It wasn’t a big sigh but definitely a noticeable one. “I-um I slept most of the day, then went on a hike...” his mind trailed off and he looked at Kitty. His eyes big and his lip poured in the way that he was trying to hold back emotion. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you talking with Mike.” He said gently as to not upset her too much. He didn’t know what she would say or how she would react.

kitty

“Mike?” She asks with a confused look on her face. “Wait ... seriously?” Kitty can tell by the look on his face and the way he was acting that he was in fact serious, which made zero sense. Mike was a friend. Kitty chose Sammy — not that it was a particularly hard choice. “It’s not like we’re sexting or anything, Sammy. What is it you think we’re talking about?”

sammy

Sammy raised his hand in defense “I-I know you’re not, I know you wouldn’t do that to me...” he brought his hand to run through his own hair, anxious about this conversation. “I- just... it’s too soon, Kitty. What happened really fucked me up... I mean I thought I was okay with it, I wanted to be okay with it but I’m not and seeing how friendly you two are just makes me feel crazy...” he confesses, not looking straight at her.

kitty

This wasn’t a conversation kitty expected to be having tonight... or at all. She takes a deep breath before responding, trying to push to the side her initial instinct to react defensively. Sammy was being honest, even before they started dating they’d agreed to be honest with each other even if it sucked. She couldn’t fault him for it now— at least she was trying not to. “Ok.” She says simply, more to herself than to him as she gathers her thoughts. “Mike is my friend. You’re my fiancé. Like... I get it... I think.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and lifts her gaze to the man. “But you asked me to marry you. I said yes. If it’s too soon for me to be talking to someone I slept with before we even started dating, then maybe all of this is too soon?”

sammy

“Just because I asked you to marry me doesn’t mean I’m okay with seeing you hang out with a guy you slept with in between us being friendly... please don’t make me feel like I’m acting crazy. I mean how did you feel when I was hanging out with Viv or even Travis and we weren’t even really dating yet. I don’t even talk to them and Viv was one of my best friends but I knew how you felt about it...” Sammy sighed. “You think that because I’m insecure about this that getting married is too soon?” He asked curiously because he had no doubt in his mind that he wanted to marry her.

kitty

“That’s so different.” Kitty rolls her eyes without even realising she was doing it. A reaction she had whenever Vev was brought up. “She was also your ex. Your ex who you flaunted around as your fake current perfect girlfriend while still wanting to sneak over and sleep with me in the middle of the night. As for your ginger lover, at least I never claimed to be super into you and then went and slept with someone else. When I was with you, I was only with you. And we were only friends when I was with Mike.” Her brain was trying to tell her to slow down, but her heart sort of took over when it came to that part of their relationship... or non- relationship. Probably not unlike how Sammy feels about mike, but she was struggling to see that right now. “And you sort of are being crazy. Last I talked to Mike he was refusing to tell me who he was seeing, and before that he was giving living creatures to Cassandra July to woo her, and before that he was dating someone else. All of which happened after we were together for one night ... and I’m with you.” She shrugs at his question. “I think it’s too soon if you don’t trust me. God, if it’s too soon for us to get over what happened at the start of our relationship, how is getting married a good idea?” Her stomach sinking as she spoke. “Are we gonna be like, old as hell and still bringing it up?”

sammy

Sam pouted. “I never slept with Travis after I met you.” He reminded her. He didn’t like any of what he was hearing. It almost sounded like she was the one doubting their engagement. “Okay. You know we’re weren’t ‘just friends’... we made out, we kissed in an airport... I- whatever. Anyway. That’s not the point I’m trying to make.” He groaned in frustration. “It’s too soon because you didn’t even tell me you were hanging out and then I see a picture of you too together and it made me feel dumb. I’m sorry I’m upset over this. I just wanted to tell you how I felt about it.” He explained. “Am I not allowed to be upset about that? Or feel jealous? Is that a reason for us not to get married?” He asked her, getting up from the bed to stretch his legs. His arms wrapped around himself as he bit at his nails. “We haven’t even properly gone out in LA because you’re ‘too busy’.” He tries to make a point.

kitty

“Thats not true. I did the math and I’m not an idiot.” Kitty shook her head, and paused for a moment. This wasn’t about Travis, so now really wasn’t the time to get into an argument about him. “I didn’t realise I had to tell you every time I spent time with my friends. You’re my boyfriend not my dad. But cool, I’ll remember for next time.” She looks up at Sammy when he stands. He looks sad and Kitty’s heart breaks a little, but her intentions so often get lost and confused between her heart and her mouth. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you want. And I want you to tell me. But I’m not going to cut off one of the few friends I have in this city because you don’t trust me. And if you don’t trust me I don’t see how we’re meant to have a marriage that actually lasts.” She raises an eyebrow, getting frustrated with this whole conversation. “I am too busy. I work all day doing things that a high school intern could probably do for a man who refuses to acknowledge my presence in a room unless I unbutton my shirt, and when I’m not scanning pointless emails or defending myself for even being there, I’m writing papers for my classes so I can graduate next month. I spend Sunday’s with you because it’s the only time I have. I don’t know...” She sighs. “What is it you want me to do, Sammy?”

sammy

Sammy huffed and looked away from Kitty. “I’m your fiancé.” He reminded her. “And I don’t expect you to tell me every time you hang out with someone but you know it’s different with him. I’m sorry but it just is. You would want to know if I was hanging out with any of my exes... I don’t want you to cut him off...” Sammy sighed and looked back at Kitty, walking back up to the bed and kneeling in front of her. “I want you to have your friends and live your best life in LA but It would be nice to get a heads up...” he shrugged and looked away. It felt pointless now to argue about her friendship with Mike. “Ideally I would like you to be more considerate of my feelings... but I get that it’s not exactly what you’re used to...” he commented and got back up off the bed, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated but decided to just ignore it. “I’m gonna go take bath... I-um I think I just need to relax... calm myself.” He told her quietly before disappearing into the bathroom.

kitty

“You knew what I meant.” Kitty replies, trying unsuccessfully not to roll her eyes. She loved Sammy, surely that was all that mattered. She sighs and looks down at the floor briefly before her gaze lifts back to her fiancé. “Mike isn’t my ex.” She corrects him. “But... You’re right, I would want to know.” She admits, biting down on her lower lip and wishing he didn’t make a valid point. “Wait... that’s not fair.” She murmurs with a sudden pang of pain in her chest as he stands back up. “I only care about your feelings. Sure, I’m not perfect, and okay fine, maybe I should have told you I went out for a drink with Mike... but of all the stupid people on this stupid planet, I only care about your stupid feelings. I love you, and I can’t- you should-“ She swallows, pushing down the lump building in her throat. “You were the only person who’s always believed the best in me... But you don’t, do you? You just pretend you do and then when you get annoyed enough at me you bring up how you actually feel.” Getting up from the bed she nods, and runs her hand through her hair. “Okay. I’m gonna go... make coffee and... I don’t know, finish writing a paper.” She muses, watching Sammy leave the room and pouting at their puppy. “C’mon Dude, let’s go.”

sammy

Sammy was turning the faucet on when he heard her words. He shook his head and followed her back. “I do believe the best in you. I know you’re not perfect and I know I’m definitely not perfect... I’m not annoyed, Kitty. I’m hurt.” He told her. “I’ve always told you how I’ve felt. Even if you may never believe me because you still hold me to whatever guys in the past have done to you. I’m not them and I don’t lie to you.” He reminded her. “I love you and I want this to work between us, but we have to do it together, stop the fucking blame game. It’s not healthy and it’s not going to get us anywhere.” He took a deep breath and walks up behind her. “I think you need to stop working for the night. You need to relax, get some rest.” He places his hands on her shoulders and gives them a soft squeeze. His lips lower to her neck, pressing a soft kiss. “Come take a bath with me.” He suggests.

kitty

“I don’t know how else to show you I care about your feelings, Sammy. I’m trying... I’ve been trying since like the day I fell for you... Do you really not see that or did hurting me because I hurt you just seem like a good idea at the time?” She never wanted to hurt Sammy... He honestly was the only person in the world she hated seeing upset. “I’m sorry.” She says so quietly it’s basically a whisper. “I should have told you I was seeing Mike, but i guess I didn’t see any reason to? You are the only person I want to be with — in any way.” She shrugs. “But if we want this to work we really gotta deal with what happened before we got together... Mike, Vev, Travis... having the same argument over and over again is exhausting. And it hurts too much.” She admits, knowing she was probably the worst at bringing it up. Kitty’s shoulders relax almost instantly with Sam’s touch, and she wants to melt into him and forget this. Forget everything. “I love you.” She speaks softly and honestly. “I thought you were taking a bath to get away from me and relax... having me join you would defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

sammy

Sammy furrowed his brows and shook his head. “I would never try to hurt you purposefully.” He told her as he turned her around so he could look at her. He ran a hand through her hair gently and tucked it underneath as he pulled her in to kiss her head. “Babe, even when I’m upset at you I want to be with you. Don’t you get that?” He let out a small laugh. “I never want to get away from you.” He kisses the side of her head before pulling back again slightly. “I love you. So much.”

kitty

“That’s not what it felt like...” Kitty closes her eyes for a second, not fighting back when Sammy turns her. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” She says looking up at him, her arms wrapping around his waist instinctively. “What do you want me to do?” She asks calmly. “About Mike.” She couldn’t not be friends with him, but she also didn’t want to upset Sammy any more. “Never?” She smiles faintly, partly at the kiss, but mostly at the pet name. It felt normal again — She used to make fun of those couples, now she was one half of one. “You still want to marry me then? Even if I don’t consider your feelings?” She asks a little sadly. “I love you more.” Kitty muses, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “Are you going to have a bath?”

sammy

Sammy sighed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to his body and not letting go. Instead rocking her lightly with his own body. “I know. I’m sorry.” He whispered, he head resting on hers. “I don’t know, maybe involve me more?” He suggested with a small shrug. “Of course I still want to marry you... I know I have a lot of emotions you’re not used to and we can work together to find a good balance between us, okay?” He told her as he pulled back to be able to kiss her. “Yeah, you gonna join me?”

kitty

“Involve you.” She nods against his chest. “I guess I can do that.” Kitty says simply, not really sure what that involved when it came to her and Mike, but she’d work it out. “Are you sure? Because contrary to what you think, I’m not completely immune to recognising feelings. You’ve been... not yourself since we moved to LA, which also happens to be when you proposed. And now there’s this, and I just don’t want to... I don’t know...” she trails off, shrugging tiredly. “I’ll join you.”

sammy

Sammy nodded. He knew what she meant. He hadn’t really felt like himself since they moved from New York, also him getting sick. “You’re right... I’ve felt a little off with my emotions since we left New York. I think I just need time to adjust... but my feelings about you have only intensified... maybe that’s why I’m jealous?....I wish I could explain it...” he replied as he rubbed her back and began leading her to the bath, which was full by now since Sam had left the water running.

kitty

He wished he could explain it, and Kitty wished she could understand it. "I just hate seeing you so down all the time." She admitted, following him to the bathroom and pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it onto the floor. "You moved your life to LA for me, and now you're miserable. You're snapping at me more, you're sleeping more again..." She moves closer to him and tugs at his shirt, standing on the tips of her feet to pull it off. "I need you to be happy. I want to make you happy again... Because I miss you." She says softly as she takes off the skirt she's wearing before resting her hands Sammy's chest. " We don't have to get married soon, if you need to go back to New York I'm not going to hold it against you."

sammy

Sammy stood still as she helped him undress. He shrugs a little bit. “I’m not... miserable. I’m just sort of in a funk, I guess.” He responded as he wrapped his arms around her. “And, it’s not your fault LA isn’t as great as New York.” He teases her with a quick laugh. “No, but really. I’ll be fine, I’ll get over it. I’m just... adjusting. You make me happy, I just, I thought maybe I’d get to spend more time with you.... I feel like I never get to see you anymore and we live together.” He kisses her cheek. “But I also understand that your job is important to you and you’re important to me so I’m okay sacrificing our time apart.” He explains. “Makes me miss you all the more.” He smiles down at her and pulls away to remove his bottoms before getting into the bath. “Come on, the water feels amazing.”

kitty

Kitty huffs. “LA is way hotter than New York...” She smirks as she takes off the remainder of her clothing. “In every conceivable way.” She joins him in the bath, humming happily at the warm water and her insanely sexy fiancé in front of her. “You’re right. My career is obviously important to me.” She agrees. “But the best part of my day is waking up next to you.” She tells him before laughing quietly and shifting closer to Sammy. “I swear to God if you ever tell anyone how corny I am with you I’ll... I don’t know... but it’ll be bad.” She threatens, only half joking with him. “I’ll try and make more time for you, babe. And we’ll do whatever you want — besides napping all day because you know I get bored.” She reaches out to intertwine her fingers with his. “Though... in case you’ve forgotten, we have forever now.” She smiles and looks down at her hand. “Or do I need to put a ring on your finger to remind you? Like a wedding band or something.”

sammy

“I guess you have a point there...” he grins at her as he pulls her onto his lap under the water, his hands wrapping around her ass. “Oh, so it’s not just the morning sex, good to know.” He teased and squeezed her ass playfully. He raised his brows at her threat and laughed. “Oooh, I’m so scared.” He jokes and leaned into her face. “I’m gonna expose you to Jimmy Fallon.” He joked and kisses her, one of his hands meeting hers halfway to come together. “We don’t have to do whatever I want. We can do things you want to do, too.” He offered with a small smile and shook his head, bringing up her hand to kiss it. “I haven’t forgotten.”

kitty

Kitty tilts her head to the side, pretending to think it through for a second. "The morning sex is okaaay, I guess." She teases, biting down on her lip as his hands grabbed her. "You should be scared, Samuel Hummel. I've been told I'm a very scary person." She comments. It was true... Just probably not when it came to Sammy. The man is the only person on the planet who seems to think she's cute when she's mad -- which is more than annoying when she's actually mad. "You wouldn't." She furrows her brows at him. "I'm gonna make you write in your vows to never expose me. That way you're bound until death do us part." She shrugs smugly and kisses the tip of his nose. "We already do everything I want to do. We went to the beach, you come to church with me, and we have hot as hell sex." She smirks. "It's your turn." It was still hard for Kitty to wrap her head around the fact she'd managed to get Sammy to want to spend the rest of his life with her -- that she was actually engaged. "Don't forget."

sammy

Sammy rose a brow and bit his lip. “Only Okay?” He asks. “It seems like you need a reminder...” He smirked and pulled her in even closer, skin to skin. His mouth moves to the exposed skin on her shoulder and kisses up to her neck “that’s the plan, babygirl...” he spoke quietly. His lips trailed up to her ear and smiled against her skin. “My turn, huh? I think I have an idea of what we could do,” he spoke suggestively, his free hand massaging the curve of her ass and his other intertwined hand guiding them so she could pull at his hair. He nibbled at her earlobe and pulled back with a grin. “I won’t forget.” He told her and he went in to kiss her deeply.

kitty

"Maybe I do..." Kitty wants to smirk in return, but Sammy's lips had always had a way of making her forget what she wanted to do. She moans and her breath hitches in her throat as he moved further up her neck. "Can't wait." She murmurs softly -- she's talking about marrying him, but that could have been lost in translation. Who knew one affectionate pet name could and would melt her. Kitty lets her hand be moved, her fingers now twisting into his messy hair and tugging gently while her other hand glides down his back and under the water. "So what's this idea of yours?" She asks with a half smile, but finds his lips attached to her before he can answer. She groans against him, pulling at his hair to deepen the kiss in anyway she could. Kissing him always felt easy and right. "I think we could probs do that forever." She says a little breathlessly, pulling away only slightly for air.

sammy

“Forever seem like a good idea... but bathtub sex also sounds like a good idea.” He reasoned with her, an excited grin appearing on his face as he went in to kiss her again, the pulling of his hair making him groan into the kiss softly. His hands now roaming her body as things got a bit more heated. He was now strikingly aroused and Kitty could most definitely feel it. His lips left her mouth again to return to her neck, his hands rounding up to grab her breasts, teasing her a bit as he squeezed them. He left kisses down her neck to her chest until he connected to her left breast, his tongue teasing at her nipple.

kitty

Kitty’s eyes shut briefly, and she bites down on her lower lip. “Oh my god.” She says, almost whimpering as he stops being a tease and his mouth actually connects to her breast. Her hips instinctively grind against him in response and she can’t stop herself from smiling. She honestly doesn’t remember ever smiling as much during sex as she does while she’s with Sammy — it was strange, but also sort of perfect. Her fingers tug at his hair a little harder, and she’s aching to get closer to him. Kitty kisses up his neck slowly and at one point her lips pull at his skin probably a little too long to leave a mark. “You obviously want me...” she speaks quietly into his ear. “So what exactly are you waiting for?”

#para: love me harder #para: sammy #sammy #//once again from ages ago #//i think? idk time is merging #//also bless ariana for giving me para titles

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