#at some point i grabbed a hot pair of tongues and staired a gentleman in the eyes

[125storejuice]

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[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || vii

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all. 

warnings: f!reader, depictions of intoxication

wc: 5.2k

m.list |  ch. 6 ↞ ch. 7 ↠ ch. 8

You peered at yourself in the mirror, doing your best to not crinkle your makeup.

It’d been a while since you’d bothered to dress up this nicely.

You were just wearing a simple yet flattering black dress, offset by your favourite shade of red lipstick. You weren’t sure if you actually looked good, or if it was just nicer than anything else you’d worn that week.

You’d sent a photo to Amaya, but upon receiving her affirmation you started to doubt the authenticity of it. Not that she’d given you reason to; no, you’d just decided that she was far too supportive to trust for an objective opinion.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at the mirror.

Whatever, you thought. This’ll just have to do.

“I’m ready!” You called out, slipping into the front room after grabbing your handbag.  

“Give me a moment,” Iwaizumi called out. The tinniness of his voice implied that he was still in the bathroom.  

You sighed, taking a moment to check the contents of your bag. Phone, wallet, lipstick, mirror… That’s all you’d need, right?

“You got everything?” Iwaizumi asked, almost as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“Mhm!” You smiled, looking up at him.

You wondered, for a moment, if there was something on your face.

He was staring at you, his eyes a little wider and rounder than usual.

You tilted your head at him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked at you for a second, as if your words had shocked him back to the present moment. His eyes scanned your body slowly before lingering on your face again. “You look good.” 

You hoped your foundation masked the heat rising in your cheeks.

It’s frustrating, how hot he looked without even trying. He was just in a black button up (the top few buttons undone, of course) and a pair of jeans, and yet he looked like that. He’d barely done anything to his hair, either; just a bit of gel, from the looks of things.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, finally breaking the excruciating silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime with his stupid face and his stupid black button up and his stuck jeans and his stupid—

“I’ll drive,” he said, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, are you sure?” You asked. “You don’t want to drink?”

“It’s fine. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he grinned, throwing you a wink.

“Hey!” You whined. “You haven’t even seen me drunk!”

“Oh, so you do intend on getting drunk then?” He chuckled, heading for the apartment door.

You gaped for a moment, searching for a comeback. “Well, you’re the one who said that uni parties are for getting shit-faced.”

“That doesn’t mean you should get shit-faced, though.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him. “Whatever you say, dad.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You hadn’t known what to expect from your first visit to a rooftop bar, but suffice to say you were impressed. When you’d asked Iwaizumi how the club had the budget to book somewhere this nice, he’d just shrugged.

“A lot of Japanese students, I guess,” was his only explanation.

Upon paying twenty-five dollars to officially ‘join’ at the door, you started to formulate a strong theory as to just where the club was getting its money.

There were far more people here than you’d anticipated. You knew it would be big, you hadn’t expected it to be this big. People were packed in like the clothes in your wardrobe, barely giving each other room to breathe. It was a sea of completely unrecognisable faces – and yet, seeing all these people who looked and sounded like you made you feel a little more at ease.

The music – which seems to be a mix of songs you don’t recognized – thumped loudly throughout the area. You wondered if there’d be any noise complaints.

Iwaizumi led you to the bar, managing to find two seats. You weren’t entirely sure how; you mostly chalked it up to the providence of God.

“I’m just going to go to the toilet, okay?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ll be alright on your own for a second, right?”

You nodded. “Don’t worry about me!”

Iwaizumi gave you a look as if to say ‘that’s impossible.’

You fought the urge to stick your tongue out at him. That would only elucidate his point.

After a few more moments of staring (under which you thought you were going to crumble to dust), Iwaizumi eventually disappeared into the crowd.

You sighed, placing your hands in your lap.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to do. You felt it only right to stay where you were, mostly to avoid giving Iwaizumi a heart attack should he come back and see you weren’t there. But, you didn’t have the confidence to order a drink, either. Or get the bartender’s attention.

“Hey.”

A voice that somehow managed to make itself heard over the music startled you out of your thoughts.

You whipped your head round, only to see a guy you’d never met before sitting in Iwaizumi’s seat. He had soft features framed by a strong chin and wavy brown hair. If you had to guess, you’d say he was around your age.

“Hey,” you said automatically, relieved at the fact that he’d greeted you in Japanese.

“You speak Japanese?” He smiled.

“You’d assume so,” you smiled back. “Seeing as I’m here and all.” You gestured to the room around you. Underneath the music, you could make out a bubble of conversation – most of which was Japanese.

“Hey, a lot of second-gen immigrants don’t necessarily learn the language,” he shrugged. His entire demeanour was so… good-natured. So polite. Even if he had taken a seat without asking.

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t known that. Albeit, it wasn’t really something you’d thought about too much.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I mean, that’s what my friend told me.”

“Ah,” you said.

“I’m Kohei, by the way,” he gave you a little nod.

You returned it as you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he grinned. “What year are you in?”

“First,” you said. “I only got here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh!” His face lit up. “Me too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’m from Tokyo!”

“Ah, so you’re a city boy,” you smiled.

He blushed a little. “Well, uh…”

“I’m from Miyagi,” you cut in. “Although, I did go to Sendai every now and then.”

“Oh, I never got the chance to visit,” he smiled. “What made you come to America?”

“I wanted to study psychology,” you answered. “I thought the options would be better here.”

“Ah,” he nodded. He had the sort of eyes that made him look like he was deeply engaged in whatever you were talking about.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to come here for the adventure,” he said sheepishly.

“The ‘adventure’?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I thought it would be cool. But… English is a bit tricky, isn’t it?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah…”

A squeal of your name cut through the crowd.

You turned, bewildered and a little frightened.

“Hi!” Yuna beamed, throwing herself at you.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her. From the flush in her cheeks, you could tell she’d already had a few.

“I’m so glad you came!” She whined. “And you look so pretty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So do you!”

Yuna whined again, drawing back to pout at you. “Why didn’t you come and find me immediately?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you laughed.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Fair enough…” Her gaze snapped to Kohei, her glare getting more intense. “And who is this?”

“This is Kohei,” you said, leaving them to introduce themselves to each other.

You scanned the crowd, a frown forming. Where was Iwaizumi? He’d been gone a while… Or did it only feel like a while? If Yuna dragged you away, it may be hard to find him and assure him that you were okay, because you just knew he’d be developing an aneurism…

You caught sight of him. He gave you a tiny wave, an expression that looked something like relief on his face. That look alone was enough to soothe you.

Tonight was already shaping up to be a good time.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Can you stand?” Iwaizumi asked, watching you with an expression of disgruntled concern on his face.

“Yes,” you said with far too much emphasis. You pointed at him with one very obstinate finger.

Kohei had bought you a drink, and Yuna had challenged you to a line of shots. Mei had pointed out that perhaps you shouldn’t go overboard. You’d been adamant that you knew your limit. That’d been a big fat lie.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, taking a step towards you.

“Yes!”

As soon as you said it, you toppled left.

Iwaizumi grabbed you by your shoulders, stabilizing you.

“Whoops,” you pouted.

He sighed, releasing you. “You alright?”

You blinked at him for a second. “Iwa…”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek. He was trapped somewhere between annoyance and burgeoning fondness.

“Alright,” he said, standing at your side. “Let me help.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, beaming at him as he leant down to drape one of your arms across his shoulders.

You leant your entire weight against him without warning.

He grunted, one arm grabbing your waist to keep you on your feet. “Careful now.”

“Sorry,” you whined. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you back to the car, alright?”

“That is an excellent plan, Iwa. You should be proud.”

Oh, fuck, he thought. He just couldn’t keep that smile off his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

By some miracle, he managed to get you to the car in one piece.

Even better, the drive home had been relatively uneventful. You’d just babbled on about why Riza Hawkeye from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was, in fact, the perfect woman. Iwaizumi had just smiled, nodding along whenever he was required to.

You still needed support getting up the stairs to your apartment; when you tried to take matters into your own hands, you always managed to trip.  

But, finally, he’d gotten you both inside the house, your arm still draped over his shoulders and his arm still wrapped around your waist. It was, quite frankly, almost too much.

Iwaizumi sighed, opening your bedroom door with his free hand.

“But Iwa,” you whined, pouting up with him. “I need to have a shower.”

“You can’t stand up straight,” he chuckled. “You can have a shower in the morning.”

“But I’ve gotta wipe my makeup off,” you droned. “Or else I’ll get a breakout.”

“Hm…” He scanned your room, settling on the clutter of makeup on your desk. “Do you have anything you can wash your face with?”

The idea of you trying to stabilize yourself in the shower gave him more anxiety than he was comfortable with. You shouldn’t wake up with both a hangover and a concussion.

“Wipes?” You blinked, pointing at your desk.

Iwaizumi took a moment to find them. He assumed it was the little green packet that didn’t look familiar to him.

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him as he passed them to you.

He tried his best to ignore the squeezing in his heart as he noticed how your eyes sparkled as you looked at him.

You ignored him for a moment as you dealt with your makeup.

He looked away out of respect, eyes landing on the collage of photos stuck above your desk. He ambled towards them mindlessly, gazing at the myriad of images.

There were many faces he recognized. Tooru, Amaya, your mother, Kaori… He realised, not without a strange sharpness in his chest, that he only featured in a single photo. It was one from his graduation; one that you were both ‘obligated’ to be in.

But he knew his absence from these photos was his own doing. If he just hadn’t had been such an idiot, then…

“Is it gone?” You asked.

He turned back to you, biting back a laugh. “Uh… not quite.”

Your lipstick, which had already been in a poor state, was smeared all around your mouth, looking more like a rash. Your foundation was splotchy, some patches mostly removed and others untouched. And to top it all off, your mascara had been melted into a muddy puddle beneath your eyes.

Overall, you looked a bit like a raccoon he’d caught eating beetroots out of his garbage.

You whined, lying back on your bed.

“It’ll be fine,” he chuckled. “It’s just one night.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you emphasized, “makeup is bad for your skin.”

Iwaizumi grinned, grabbing what he assumed to be your pyjamas from the end of the bed and tossing them to you. “You’ll feel better if you change into something more comfortable.”

You glared at him from your horizontal position, the expression emphasised by a couple extra chins.

Iwaizumi left the room quickly and closed the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. He prepared you a glass of water, going through the checklist in his head of how to take care of someone well over their limit.

When he got back to your bedroom door, he was sure to knock.

He took the garbled ‘mhm!’ he got in response as affirmation.

He opened the door slowly, peeking round the door to see you sat cross-legged on the bed with a pout. From the looks of it, you’d put your top on backwards.

His heart thumped in that terrifyingly familiar way.

“Drink this,” he mumbled, handing you the glass.

You nodded, taking it with both hands and tipping it back with ferocity.

Iwaizumi gazed at his feet while he did so, trying to smother the burgeoning fondness in his chest.

He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’m done!” You called out in a sing-song voice, thrusting the empty cup towards him.

“Do you want some more?” He asked as he took the cup from you.

You beamed up at him. “Mhm!”

Iwaizumi sighed. He wasn’t going to say no to that face.

As he went to get you a second glass of water, he kept trying to push those sorts of thoughts out of his head.

He’d been doing so well. Of course, he’d wanted to be friends with you again. Being able to get along would be key to making this whole living situation work. But the closer he got, the more he was reminded of what had happened two years ago.

And like an idiot, he’d tried to position himself as someone you could rely on. He wanted to be someone you could rely on.

But was that because it was the right thing to do, or because of something else?

He shook his had and blinked rapidly. He’s just thinking these things because he’s had a bit to drink. That’s all. It’s nothing serious.

He kept repeating those thoughts as he dragged himself back to your room, determined not to succumb to them.

The last time he’d fallen into them, you’d completely excised each other from your lives. That wasn’t exactly an option here.

He took a deep breath as he stepped into your room, steeling himself for whatever was to come.

You were laid on your bed, limbs curled around one of your pillows. Were you asleep?

Well, he thought, that’s probably for the best.

Iwaizumi sighed, placing the water on your bedside table. Chances were, you were going to wake up with quite the headache. But, he supposed, it’s something of a learning experience. It’s good to know your limits.

He carefully picked up the corner of your blanket and tugged it over you. It was fall, after all. He didn’t want you catching a cold.

Once he was sure everything was in order, he flicked your light off and left, closing the door behind him.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him as he dragged himself back to his room. He didn’t dare check the time; he was sure it’d just upset him.

Better to just try and forget about this night and move on.

✧ ✧ ✧

After that party, you’d made a vow to never drink again.

The vow lasted for all about a week. Although, you were much more careful about just how much you were drinking at any given time.

You did, however, stick to your promise to never, ever sleep in your makeup ever again.

Though neither alcohol nor makeup had been an issue as of late.

You’d done your best to give yourself as much time as possible to work on your assignments, mainly so you could ensure that your language use was as proficient as possible. But, even that hadn’t been enough to stave off the beast that is procrastination.

The result, of course, was a flurry of three days wholly dedicated to one assignment about neurotransmitters. You were in total shutdown mode, nothing on your mind but getting this stupid thing done.

You’d even left your room and settled yourself at the dining table in an attempt to stop the ever-coaxing allure of your bed pulling you away from your work desk for yet another nap.

Oh, and texting Amaya at any given moment as a way of putting off your work.

Our time zones don’t line up that well, you kept telling yourself. It’s fine, I can justify this distraction.

“Hey.”

You looked up at Iwaizumi with a thoroughly worn-out expression on your face. “Hello.”

“You okay?” He chuckled.

“As much as I can be,” you whined, turning to glare your computer screen.

“Here,” he said, placing a glass of water and an apple on the desk next to you. You hadn’t even noticed that he had them.

Your heart thumped a funny little rhythm in your chest.

Sure, you were used to Iwazumi’s gentlemanly ways by now. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t race a little faster at each little act of kindness.

“Keep your fluids up,” he said, nodding at the water. “If you get a headache, we have some Panadol in the cupboard.”

“Thank you,” you blushed.

“No problem,” he smiled, turning around to return to the kitchen.

A new chat lit up on the corner of your screen.

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Hey! How’s your assignment going?

[You] [7:03 PM] It’s… going?

[Kohei] [7:04 PM] Ahaha oh dear… that doesn’t sound good

[You] [7:03 PM] I am, as the kids say, suffering

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Oh, I’m so sorry :( is there anything I can do to help?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. You just needed to get this stupid thing done. Then you’d finally be able to relax.

✧ ✧ ✧

You held your milk tea up to your face, peering at it closely.

“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was perfectly content with the grapefruit tea he’d ordered, as he usually was.

“I think they skimped on the pearls this time,” you mused.

Iwaizumi chuckled, shaking his head. “Need me to talk to them?”

“No!” You shook your head quickly, any sign of malice disappearing from your face. “No, please don’t!”

“I’m just teasing,” he grinned, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the besieged spot gingerly.

“No need to be dramatic.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” you shook your head, “I’m in my youth. It’s the prime time to be dramatic.”

Iwaizumi gave you the kind of look that implied he had no idea what you were talking about. In truth, neither did you.

You were just in an uncommonly good mood.

The two of you were on your way to a club meeting, organised by the Japanese Students Association. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what the meeting was actually about. All you knew was that you’d been invited. Specifically. Even though you were still just a first year.

And apparently, your presence had been requested by Mei.

Meaning you were actually wanted there.

The thought made your chest bubble with joy. You were wanted somewhere. People wanted to see you. On your merits. Not because of the family you’d be born into.

Sure, knowing Iwaizumi had given you a leg up, but they weren’t obligated to spend time with you, right? Right?

“Hajime?”

You both stopped in your tracks, turning towards the source of this new voice.

It was a girl you didn’t recognise – although you had to admit that she was quite stunning. Her dark hair was tied up in an impressively neat high ponytail, and her red lipstick was impeccable. The look, if she was going for it, was definitely ‘I could kill a man with the mere snap of my fingers.’

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinked.

Was he… caught of guard?

“Ah, it is you,” the girl smiled, tilting her head at him. “How are you?”

“Good,” he said quickly. You didn’t miss how his grip tightened around his cup.

The girl nodded, her eyes fixed intently on his face.

You felt a bit like you were intruding on something very personal.

“Who’s this?” The girl asked, her gaze shifting to you.

You froze, unsure of what to say.

“Uh, this is my friend,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to you. “Who also happens to be my roommate.”

You nodded at this girl as Iwaizumi introduced you, trying to ignore the swell in your chest at the fact he’d introduced you as a ‘friend’ first and foremost.

“Ah,” the girl smiled, nodding. “I’m Misaki, by the way.”

The warmth that’d just been spreading through your chest turned cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said automatically, trying to stave off whatever confusing mess of emotion was going on inside of you.

“You too,” Misaki smiled.

The three of you stood there for a moment, completely silent.

“We’re on our way to a meeting,” Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, really?” Misaki blinked. “I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem,” Iwaizumi shook his head, holding a hand up. “You didn’t know.”

“Right,” Misaki nodded slowly, looking between the both of you. “Well, see you around.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, turning to you. “We should get going,” He didn’t wait for your response, walking off at a slightly faster pace than usual.

“Right,” you nodded, falling into step alongside him.

His whole demeanour seemed… off. Like something had really bothered him. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. But, you thought it best to get the facts instead of relying on your own suspicions.

“So,” you began, once you were sure Misaki was safely out of earshot, “who is she?”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, gaze stuck firmly to the ground. “Uh… she’s my ex.”

“Oh?” You replied. You didn’t want to seem too interested – even though, in fact, you were very interested.

“Yeah…” Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “We broke up a few months ago.”

“Oh…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi shrugged. “We didn’t suit each other.”

“I see…” Break ups were entirely new territory for you. None of your friends had really dated in high school – and if they did, the breakup usually came as some sort of relief. Your friends had never asked for comfort even if you’d offered it.

But, seeing how the two of them had just interacted with each other…

“How long were you together?” You asked. Was that too invasive? You weren’t sure.

“About six months.”

You tried to ignore the stabbing in your gut. Six months? Six months? Sure, that might not be that long in the grand scheme of things, but it sure sounded like a long time to you. You hadn’t even been living with Iwaizumi for six months.

“Ah…” You pressed your lips together, brow furrowing as you searched for what to say. “If you need to talk to someone about it…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Really, I’m over it. I just didn’t expect to run into her today.”

You nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Usually I’d get a heads up before seeing her,” he shrugged.

“Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. “We see each other at events, sometimes. For the Japanese Association.”

“Oh?” Now that piqued your interest.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We actually met through it.”

Something twisted in your stomach. They’d met through the Student Association? It shouldn’t have made the thought of going to events weird, and yet it did.

“Oh really?” You asked, trying to seem unbothered.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “A lot of people end up finding a partner there.”

You frowned. Were you expected to find a partner there? Would you find a partner there?

Maybe you would. Maybe you’d finally find someone to date.

Although, you weren’t sure how anyone was supposed to measure up to Iwaizumi. Especially when he was standing right there.

“Anyway,” he sighed, picking up his pace. “We’ll be late.”

“Right,” you nodded, scurrying after him.

All you could hope for was to be able to push the thought of Misaki out of your head.

It felt petty, childish. You shouldn’t’ve been so concerned with Iwaizumi’s love life; his dating history shouldn’t matter to you.

But the questions swirled in your head as the two of you rushed across campus.

Had he dated anyone other than Misaki? Had he loved her? How far had they gone together? Did he miss her? Did he ever think about her?

Or, worse yet, was he on the look-out for someone else?

✧ ✧ ✧

“It’s not that hard once you understand the basics,” Iwaizumi said.

“Right,” you nodded, watching his hands intently as he sliced up an onion.

“If you place your hand like this,” he said, fist placed on the onion so that his knuckles ghosted the knife, “you’re less likely to cut yourself.”

“Ah,” you marvelled. “That’s actually a really helpful tip.”

“I know,” he grinned. “That’s why I’m sharing it with you.”

You rolled your eyes.

Iwaizumi moved onto the carrots, which you’d peeled yourself. Maybe you were a bit too proud, given the size of the task, but he let you get away with it.

He chopped the carrots with his typical proficiency.

You rested your elbows on the countertop, propping your chin up on the palms of your hands.

“We should have a dinner party,” you suggested, the image of all your shared friends gathered round your table, laughing and smiling, filling your heart with a precious warmth.

“That’s not what uni students usually do,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Not in America, anyway.”

“So?” You turned to him with a defiant expression. “We can all pretend to be upper-middle class for the evening,” you opined, tilting your chin at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaziumi smiled.

“Pft,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Like it’s up to you. I can just hold one without you.”

You wouldn’t really do that. You’d met them through him, after all.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi grinned, a certain glint in his eyes. “What’re you going to serve everyone? Burnt rice?”

“Hey!” You whined. “It was one time!”

“How do you even burn rice?” Iwaizumi teased.

You pouted, lifting your fist and lightly punching him in the chest.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart,” he laughed, puffing his chest out proudly. “I barely even felt that.”

“Fine.” You went for another swing.

Iwaizumi caught your wrist, holding it above your head in a gentle grip.

You swung with your other hand, only for him to catch that one, too.

You glared at him – but you know he’s aware that you’re just having a bit of fun.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you huffed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked.

You tried to think of some retort, some witticism that’d catch him off guard.

Nothing came to mind. Not when you were so close to him, his hands wrapped around your wrists as he looked at you with that expression. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid—

You brought your knee up to his stomach, making him flinch.

His stumbled backwards and you tried to tug your wrists away. But his grip was too strong, even when he wasn’t trying all that hard.

“Stop,” you whined. “Let me go.”

“Say sorry.”

“For what?”

“Punching me.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted at him. “It didn’t even hurt.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s about the principle of it.”

“Of punching you?”

“Mhm. It’s not very polite.”

You tried to tug away again. Your mind was wandering much too far. Farther than it should.

“Brattiness is an inherited trait,” you said, “it’s just part of being an Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, finally letting you go.

Maybe the implication of your brother was enough to do it.

“You might be right about that,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him petulantly.

Don’t make it hard for yourself, you thought. Not again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of some generic eighties rock band bounced through your apartment as you and Iwaizumi tended to the DVD rack stood next to the TV.

“You have the taste of an old man,” you teased, glancing at Iwaizumi out the corner of your eye.

“These are classics,” Iwaizumi tsked.

“Kohei described them as ‘dad bands,’” you hummed.

“And why should this Kohei’s opinion matter more than mine, hm?”

“I never said it did,” you grinned, moving the DVD for Ferris Buller’s Day Off to its designated genre category. Why Iwaizumi had spent so much money on DVDs, you didn’t know. You would’ve thought that they’d just provide more clutter, especially if he planned on moving back to Japan.

You’d just surmised that it had something to do with his natural ineptitude with technology.

“What does this ‘Kohei’ even listen to?” Iwaizumi asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

“You know, you’ll look back at the music of this decade and realise most of it’s garbage,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Okay, grandpa.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “you’ve got that look on your face.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “What look?”

“You know,” you giggled, turning to face him. “This look.”

You drew your eyebrows together a little, narrowing your eyes just enough to make them a bit more intense. To finish it off, you turned the corners of your mouth down, performing your best impression of a certified ‘Serious Iwaizumi.’

He flicked your forehead gently, a fond smile on his face. “I don’t look like that.”

“Oh, but you do,” you stressed. “You’re going to get premature wrinkles if you’re not careful.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “At least I’ll have my arms.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The only thing left to do was return to your task, hoping that the very invasive thought of Iwaizumi’s well-built arms would get out of your head.

There was a tap on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned to look at him.

He held up two DVD cases. “Blade Runner, or Back to the Future?”

You glanced between the two of them intently. “Huh?”

“We should take a break,” he suggested.

“Ah,” you nodded. “Which one’s less depressing?”

“Uh…” Iwaizumi looked between the two of them. “Back to the Future. Definitely.”

“I wanna watch that one, then.”

Iwaizumi nodded, turning around and turning the TV on.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Watching a movie with Iwaizumi, huh? Now that was dangerous territory. This time, at least, you knew to put a pillow between the two of you.

[candlelight27]

Chapter 4: I Am Finally Me

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: Lots of talking, discussion about death and wounds in a war context, mild gore? (blood is mentioned)

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 4267

AO3: I Am Finally Me

A/N:  We have a beta reader!!! It’s @galamixx !! Thank you so much for being the beta reader and editor!! 

Dimitri and Sylvain had accompanied you to your apartment on your way back from the party. 

Of course, after hearing all the ruckus and inquiring what had happened, Dimitri wanted to make sure you arrived home safely. Being the gentleman he is, he offered you a ride home. You tried to deny his proposition out of politeness, but he was insistent. Besides, he was one of the few people who hadn’t drunk anything and, in that moment, not having to walk home was the most attractive option. You were exhausted and the only thing you wanted was lying down on your bed.

There was a downside: he lived with Sylvain, so Sylvain was coming along. It wasn’t itself a bad thing, but you had the impression that fate was setting you both up all the time.

You sat on the co-pilot seat, while Dimitri was driving, and Sylvain was on the back. You looked at Dimitri, but he couldn’t see you because you were on his eyepatch’s side. Silence settled in the car despite the distant chatter of the radio. You were dizzy and drowsy. It was hard not to fall asleep right there.

Sylvain’s breath, steady, a sweet lullaby you focused on. Dimitri said something to Sylvain, starting a mindless conversation about domestic chores. Grocery shopping, cleaning the toilet...

Something poked your head from behind. You turned around to ask the red head what he wanted. But before you could open your mouth, he caressed your cheek affectionately. His hand was warm, and his fingers were soft as he traced the line of your jaw. He then kept talking as if nothing had happened, and you tried to concentrate on the streetlamps passing by.

He really was something else, wasn’t he?

You arrived shortly after. Dimitri double parked and waited inside the car, while Sylvain left the warmth of it to take you to the door of your apartment.

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

“It was nothing. Good night!” He waved at you.

You felt the cold breeze blowing on your face and on your legs during the short space between the vehicle and the building.

“Why don’t we talk tomorrow over some tea?” Sylvain suggested out of the blue. He was feigning nonchalance.  

“Are you still brooding over tomorrow?”, you teased tiredly, opening the outer door.

“We hadn’t settled a place or a time.” He hummed. “I don’t want you to sleep over and bail out.”

“You’re turning our serious talk into a date? How sneaky of you!”

“Is it working?”, he laughed as he went up the stairs before you.

“You’re incorrigible.”

You used your key to enter your apartment, but it wasn’t locked. It annoyed you because you thought Ingrid was still out partying somewhere in Hilda’s home. As you went in, you heard some giggling and whispering. You stopped Sylvain from coming in, evaluating the living room and the hall.

“Isn’t that the plastic sword Ashe had?”, he asked, his voice low, noticing something  was amiss.

“I can’t believe it”, you covered your mouth to prevent a laugh.

“Ashe and Ingrid? What has university done to my innocent friends?” Sylvain looked almost offended. “What’s next? Manuela and Seteth?”

“Never say never”, you shrugged. “Dorothea could say the same about you and me.”

“Well, yes… I hadn’t thought about that.” Sylvain scratched the back of his neck. He was standing in your lobby, looking uneasy. “Will you be able to sleep with the lovey-dovey lovers here?”

“I have earplugs in case they can’t contain their love”, you grimaced. He felt embarrassed as he was losing time just to be with you, moving his weight from one foot to the other and diverting his gaze, hoping he’d come up with something else to justify his presence there. “See you tomorrow then?”, he said at last, as though his body didn’t want to leave your side.

“Over tea. At 12?”, you suggested.

“Yes. Well, goodbye.”

“See you tomorrow, Sylvain.”

He disappeared into the darkness of the hall. You went straight to your bed, without sparing a second thought to anyone else’s business. You had a lot to think about yourself and needed a good rest.

 The next morning your head was foggy. The events of the previous night slowly came back to your mind while stretching your arms. It turned out, as you looked at the clock, that you had woken up way too early. The small hand of the clock marked the number nine. You practically jumped out of bed still in last night’s clothes and went around the apartment. Ingrid wasn’t up yet, but Ashe’s things weren’t there, so he must have left in the middle of the night.

You headed to the shower, rushed without reason. Under the hot water, you closed your eyes. You remembered his warm hand the night before, and the feel of his touch. It was familiar. You had grabbed his hand before, right? But the memory changed all of a sudden. An image flashed, Sylvain caressing your cheek, but you both were standing somewhere else.

It was a battlefield, filled with corpses. Professor Byleth and Dimitri were by your side. All you were tainted by blood: your clothes, your weapons, your hair. But there was an odd silence, a distant cheer. Sylvain, not letting you go, touched your forehead with his and whispered: ‘it’s over. At last, it’s over.” And he repeated your name like a chant.

You fell backwards, landing on your bottom. You didn’t hurt yourself, thankfully. Then, you got up, dried with a towel and put on some clothes.

When you stopped for a moment, you felt that your heart was out of control, beating in a frenzied rhythm. It was 9:23, you weren’t late to your date. You breathed in.

But your body wouldn’t calm down.

You were supposed to be wasted from the party, but if you had drunk three cups of coffee – which you hadn’t, and needn’t at the moment –, you wouldn’t have felt more awake and alarmed. There was something else inside of you trying to resurface, yet it reached the light.

You 09:24: Can we meet earlier?

Would Sylvain be up yet? You hoped so. And deep down, you knew he was reading the message.

Sylvain 09:25: Yes. Pls.

Sylvain 09:25: The wait is killing me.

Sylvain 09:25: [Photograph attached]

You took a deep breath, relieved that he was as restless as you.

You 09:26: I hope it’s not a dick picture.

Sylvain 09:27: I charge for those, sorry.

You opened the file. It was Sylvain, with a scarf, a coat and a backpack, walking around a park near the café you were going to meet him in. His nose was red, his eyes puffy from not sleeping too much, and in a bad way.

You 09:28: How long have you been up?

You 09:28: Let’s meet now

Sylvain 09:29: I woke up at 8

Sylvain 09:30: I couldn’t sleep anymore

Sylvain 09:30: Oh, eager, are we? 😉

You 09:30: …

You 09:30: I’m on my way.

You grabbed your own coat and went out. Sylvain was acting weird, but you guessed that what he was about to reveal was putting his nerves on edge.

You realised halfway to your meeting point that you had forgotten your keys. That’s how disconnected you were from your surroundings. Your head was cluttered. Where had all this come from? There was something else on the back of your mind, right on the tip of your tongue, that you couldn’t exactly take out, but you couldn’t remember what it was, It was unnerving. And the more you thought about Sylvain, the more those visions tried to surface, yet they couldn’t appear yet.

Thankfully, the café wasn’t far from your home and you arrived in less than ten minutes. It was a cold day, and there was hardly anyone in the street.

You didn’t bother looking around for Sylvain. You just knew he was inside of the place, so you opened the door ringing the small bell attached to it. A waiter with purple hair and well-done makeup wished you a good morning. After a quick glance around the local, you found Sylvain on a secluded corner, who was distractedly looking at his own drink and hadn’t realised you had arrived.

“Hi!”, you greeted nervously.

He smiled warmly. He was drinking a bergamot tea and on the opposite side of the table, your own favourite kind awaited you. You felt your heart melt, but then you realised another thing.

“Thank you, but how did you know my favourite kind of drink?”, you tilted your head. “Did Ingrid or Dorothea tell-?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know it.” He sighed. “I only knew from a dream.”

You blinked while he shrugged. He was waiting for you to talk.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me explain myself.” His tone was so serious, it sent a chill to your spine.

“Sure.”

“Okay…” He inhaled deeply. You were so curious about his secrecy. Unconsciously, you were leaning over on the edge of your chair in anticipation. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were fixed on his hands, which were holding the warm drink. “Before I begin, I want to warn you first. Felix thought I was going crazy for a month. He still doesn’t believe me, I just stopped talking about it and… well, haven’t talked to anyone about this ever since.”

“Sylvain, I don’t need a warning, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

“Yes, right.” He finally gazed at you. “I must ask something first. Have you had any nightmares or dreams recently? About the people we went with to Garreg Mach High School.”

Your heart beat faster and stronger hearing that. You had one just before breakfast, and you weren’t even asleep.

“Yes. I’ve had nightmares. About… Miklan. He transformed into a huge, beastly monster. And you were there, right next to me. And Professor Byleth. And many other students. Well, the others changed… Sometimes they were Annette, Dimitri and Felix, sometimes they were Hilda, Raphael and Claude.” You gulped for a moment. “When we were in the library…” Sylvain was watching you intently.

“Yes?”

“My chest hurt. That night, I dreamt someone had pierced me with a spear. It was horrible…” You paused to ease yourself. “I could feel the blood running down my stomach, and… the coldness flowing from the wound. I felt I was dying.”

“Did you know who hurt you?” Your hair stood on end. You didn’t answer. You were too afraid to speak because you, too, knew who it was. Sylvain sensed it. “It was me, right?” You nodded slowly, studying his movements. “I’ve dreamt that too. It was the main reason why I ignored you all those years.”

“Really?”, you frowned. “For a dream? It was not pleasant, but…”

“Well, imagine my situation,” he explained, “Ingrid has a cute new friend and the first time I see you I keep dreaming that I’m stabbing you with a fucking spear.” You giggled at his perspective. He wasn’t wrong. “I had the same nightmare on a loop for a week, so I convinced myself it was a signal to leave you alone. It did really freak me out.”

“And here I thought you hated me”, you made a funny face. “Why did you so suddenly change your opinion and started talking to me, then?”

“I wanted to pass the subject. Hard to do a project without speaking to your partner,” he replied, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Sylvain, weren’t you going to be honest?”

“Ah, this is going to be awkward,” he moved his hands around, not sure about where to let them rest. You could see he was uneasy again. “From then on I had a lot of dreams about you. We would spar together, sneak out of Byleth’s lessons… and we went through a war together. It was like we were the main characters of one of those romance novels of knights that Ingrid loves.” He looked at you shyly. Sylvain took a deep breath, and rushed the next part of his speech, hoping you wouldn’t pay it a lot of attention, considering all he had already said. “I feel like I’ve loved you for a hundred of years, and I can’t deny it anymore.”

You took your time processing all the information and taking it in. “Are you weirded out yet?” He asked, flashing you an apologetic smile.

“No, no. I’m just… amazed that we’re connected in that way.” You took a long sip from your warm drink. “All you tell me sounds familiar, yet I can’t remember. I’ve always had a little crush-”

“Little?” He winked. The redhead knew perfectly how to disarm you.

“Yes, little!” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t know why, but it was as if I knew you all my life, and all my emotions just got stronger with time. And the more people we dated – it was mainly you dating people, but you understand me – the more I felt a piece of me was missing.”

“So you believe me and acknowledge that there are things out of place here, right?”

“Yes.” Another chill ran through your spine.

“Okay, so I’ve been talking to other people. And they had nightmares or plain dreams in a similar setting. A long time ago, with magic and wars. And it affects all of those who have something to do with Garreg Mach High School.”

“Once, Bernadetta hid in the bathroom crying because she thought she had murdered Ingrid,” you told him, as you remembered the strange occurrences of your high school days. “Edelgard and I were really disturbed all day because… well, why would she even think of that?”

“See? My theory is…” Sylvain interrupted himself. He was sure you were going to question his sanity, but he had to tell you. He knew he could count on you. Even if it turned out he was really going insane, you’d help him find a solution. Even if you’d barely ever talked two months before that moment, Sylvain trusted you. “My theory is that we’ve all lived that and that we have been reincarnated in this world somehow. But they couldn’t erase all the memories because our bonds once were very strong.” He couldn’t stop now. “And I think that we have lived in that world multiple times. Otherwise, the timelines don’t make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I killed you. Do you know where?”

“In Gronder,” you answer automatically. “Although I don’t know where that is, I just know the name…”

“It’s a field on the way to Garreg Mach from the south.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “That isn’t important, though. The thing is, I have other memories. I recall you calling me with an axe in Deirdru while I was trying to attack Claude. And I can also perfectly remember your face when you- when I- Ugh, when we got married. And we were way older.”

“We got married?” you said astonishingly.

“That’s not my point, but yes. Remember we also murder each other? It’s quite fucked up.”

“This morning… It wasn’t a dream, I was in the shower and it just came to my mind. The war ended, we were with Dimitri and Byleth. And both of us were alive.” Sylvain nodded at your words. He wasn’t surprised. You supposed Sylvain had other visions outside dreams too. You pitied him for all the years he went through this alone.

“Although, there are other occurrences that don’t change between the timelines. Glenn always ends up dying. So does Byleth’s father, and Dimitri’s family too. So far – well, you already know this – they are alive right now, but I’m scared that…'' He couldn’t end the sentence.

“Why would we be in a loop of events that change but always involve us and our friends?” You questioned out loud.

“I wish I knew. As I wish I knew why I’m the one having all these dreams while the rest looks like they know nothing of this madness.”

“You are very touchy-feely, maybe that’s why”, you suggested trying to lift the mood. Suddenly something dawned on you. “Oh... My dreams became more vivid when you touched me.”

“Fuck. I suppose that makes sense. It feels like it’s a divine punishment for my antics”, he dedicated you with a sad smile.

There was tension in the air. Sylvain bit his lip and looked everywhere else but you. You, on the other hand, were as confused as ever, your gaze blank. Your train of thought was a mess. Sylvain was right. The things he said made sense. But at the same time, it was impossible that something like that was happening to you. Surely, you would have noticed. Everyone would have noticed that something was wrong.

“What do you think?”, he finally dared to ask. “Do you believe me for real?”

“I do. But… It’s just too implausible. There has to be another explanation.”

“Then help me find it,” he said. His voice trembled.

“I’m going to. We’re going to find out what’s happening.” You took his nervous hand. “I promise.”

His phone started ringing. He cursed and took it from the pocket of his jeans. His frown deepened as he read the name of the person calling.

“Shit. It’s Felix. I gotta pick it up, he never calls so this must be an emergency.”

“Yes, go on,” you said.

You watched his body language carefully. Sylvain’s theory was madness, as he put it, but it somehow explained all the weird things that were happening to you lately. And something within you told you to believe him. How else were you going to understand what was happening?

Sylvain’s face was alarmed, so you paid attention to his conversation.

“What? A car crash? Where are you?” He started gathering his things on his bag while holding his phone between his shoulder and cheek. “Just Glenn? You’re ok? I’m going to the hospital, Felix.” Sylvain hung up the phone quickly before gathering his things, rushing to leave the café.

“Is Glenn…?” You didn’t want to pronounce the word. The tension was palpable.

“No. He’s alive. Although…” He stood up, worry in his voice. “Can you come with me?”

“Yes”, you agreed. This had to be a shock to him, not only because of other worlds and wars, but because they’ve been friends forever. “I don’t know if Felix would like me there, thought…”

“I need you with me. Please.” His voice was growing sore, almost cracking from fear.

“Of course.”

He grabbed you by your hand and he led you to his car. You sat on the right seat while he started the engine urgently. He didn’t lose any time and headed for the hospital where Glenn was. Judging by the direction, it was Seiros’ Clinic.

“If Glenn dies, does that mean everything else is going to happen too?” You asked, still considering all the possibilities. A war was not probable. But you never knew what could happen.

“I wish I knew.”

“That’s why you are so scared?”, you pressed.

“In part, yes.”

“What else worries you?”

“That you think I’m crazy and never talk to me again.” He focused on the road, resisting the need to look at you.

“Well, you needn’t worry about that. That much I can assure you.”

Sylvain didn’t answer. Instead, he squeezed the wheel. You looked at him through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were red, but your words had soothed him, so you didn’t say anything else until you arrived, letting him think about everything.

The halls of the hospital were coloured with white and a sickly pale green. Everything smelled like disinfectant. You walked aimlessly along the places you were allowed to roam until you found Felix. He was a total disaster, with his hair out of place, his expression of pain. You wished you could do something, but you knew Felix didn’t exactly like strangers meddling in his business.

He greeted both of you dryly with a nod.

“How is he?” questioned Sylvain, hiding his consternation. Still, his worry showed through his lack of greeting back to Felix, as he was more concerned for Glenn’s wellbeing.

“He’s in an induced coma. But he’s fine. His vitals are stable now. The doctors said that was a good sign.” Sylvain let out a relieved breath at Felix’ words. He looked at you, then back at his old friend.

“That’s good, Felix.”

“There are going to be long term consequences, though.” Felix’s eyes went to the floor. “That useless motherfucker,” he muttered, hiding his emotions by masking it with fake disgust.

A small nurse with long green hair emerged from the room. Her face rang a bell.

“I apologize for not introducing myself properly before,” She addressed Felix.  “You may call me Flayn. I’ll be the nurse attending to your brother Glenn from now on.” Felix simply nodded, unimpressed, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ under his breath. “Mind coming with me, Felix?” Her shade of green hair reminds you of your professor’s.

Felix left both of you with a gesture of his hand. Sylvain sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair, of a green darker than the ones in the walls, and you let yourself rest on a seat beside him. You thought of the nurses’ face. Her name. You repeated it to yourself.

“Flayn!” You suddenly exclaimed. Sylvain tilted his head. “The nurse’s name was Flayn.”

“Yes. She said that was her name.” He furrowed his brow. “What’s with it?”

“Felix doesn’t know her?” You asked, surprised. “She’s Seteth’s sister. Or daughter. She was in school with us, right? And yet, Felix doesn’t know her.”

“Neither do you.”

“I do-!” You began, before being cut off by the sound of a door opening. Instinctively, you turned your head to the source of the noise.

Out comes Flayn, gently, letting out a sigh before she uttered some words in a low tone. Had you kept talking, or had some external noise passed from the outside, and you wouldn’t have heard what she said.

But you did, as clear as water.

Thank the Goddess he hasn’t died again.”

Your stomach turned. Sylvain’s theory was starting to finally sink in. You had believed him before, but such a convincing affirmation of his suspicions was disheartening. Why was everything happening? Why did it have to be you and Sylvain the ones who remembered those things? And did Flayn also have those dreams, or did she already know what was happening?

Your hands were shaking.

“Hello, Flayn.” Sylvain stood up to greet the girl with a handshake. “Thank you for treating Glenn and Felix so kindly.”

“It is simply my duty,” She smiled. “No need to thank me.”

“Have we met before?” He asked. From your perspective, you could see that he was feigning innocence, but you knew that he was just as curious about Flayn’s knowledge as you were. You couldn’t articulate any sound, so you just paid attention to them from your seat.

“That’s impossible!” She exclaimed with nervousness, but she calmed down instantly. “I lived in the west of the continent with my family until this year. I moved here a few months ago to live with my brother. Therefore, it’s impossible we have met before unless you’ve gone on a trip there.”

“That must be it!” Sylvain lied effortlessly. “Would Seteth happen to be your brother?” Flayn nodded. Sylvain continued. “That’s why you’re so familiar! He was our teacher in high school, and mentioned you a couple of times.” He turned to you, beckoning to help him with the conversation.

“Yes, Seteth cares about you deeply,” You added without any emotion. You gave Sylvain credit for being able to pull off ignorance so easily.

“I didn’t expect to find you here – you share his striking image.” Sylvain said nonchalantly with a wink. Of course.

“I see! Oh, you confused me for a moment,” She said sweetly, attempting to laugh off her alarm. “Now, I must go and get some supplies, so excuse me for a while. There are more sanitary personnel inside with Felix if you happen to have any questions.” You pondered to yourself for a fleeting second. Her speech patterns were peculiar. It was professional, yes, but it had a certain charm to it that other staff didn’t. You felt as though her and her politeness was speaking through a fairy tale. 

Flayn went away calmly and disappeared down the hall, quite pleased with herself. When you couldn’t see her, you groaned, burying your face in your hands while falling back on the chair.

“We’re fucked, Sylvain.” You uttered without regard if Flayn could hear you or not. Sylvain sat next to you again.

“I know this is a very insensitive thing to say, but I’m very happy that you’re freaking out. I feel less alone this way. It brings me comfort knowing we’re in this together.” He rubbed your back and you couldn’t help but laugh. What a mess you were in.

“What can we do now?” You asked him, as if he had all the answers in this world.

“I tried to ignore it, but it’s impossible.” He sounded defeated. “I feel like someone is controlling us and I hate it.”

“Then why don’t we investigate?” You suggested. Sylvain processed your words for a moment, then nodded slowly, agreeing. It seemed like the most logical step right then. He gave you a reassuring smile before moving on, moving his hand to pat your shoulder.

“Alright then. Let’s start with the library.”

[hattywatch]

T. Seguin - Back Road Part 3

A/N: Happy Holidays ya filthy animals. 

Part 1 Part 2 "No, it's different." 

You can hear Tyler getting frustrated with whomever he's on the phone, but you don't want to interrupt, staying in the foyer, quiet until he can finish his conversation. 

"Well, she's coming and you'll just have to deal with it. I don't know what to tell you," that's when you decide to make yourself known, not wanting to eavesdrop on things you shouldn't hear. 

You open the front door behind you and close it a bit louder this time, "Hiii. I'm here?" 

"In here!" He shouts from the kitchen and you follow his voice after dropping your bag on the sparkling floors in the entryway. He finishes his conversation in hushed tones you can't quite make out over the sound of your sandals on the hardwood. 

When you finally get sight of him in the kitchen he's drinking a water bottle, shirtless, and shoving his phone in his pocket. 

"Do you like, ever wear a shirt?" His distraction technique is honestly flawless. You'd be hard pressed to recall what he was saying only a few scant seconds ago as your eyes take him in. 

He's positively preening, and you're sure he's flexing his chest muscles. So you do the mature thing and push him away from your person before you can do anything stupid like run your tongue up his abs and make him think his macho posturing is sexy. 

Like it is, but he can't know that.

You've only been seeing each other for two-ish months, but he's been great. Really attentive and sweet, calling you nightly even when he's traveling for work. 

He has some free time coming up, a weekend to be exact, and he invited you to his family's cabin in Canada. You weren't sure you were there yet- as a couple, but as Bridget Jones says, "It can't be just a fling, a mini-break holiday means true love." Which is definitely pushing it, but you're not going to pretend it doesn't make your heart flutter that he's bringing you home to meet his family. 

You spend the night at his place to make the shuffle in the morning easier since he lives closer to the airport than you do. He promises no funny business since you're leaving before dawn the next morning. 

Tyler sticks to his promise and you both sleep soundly in the same bed, jolted awake by the ringing off your alarm, but excited nonetheless for your trip.

Boarding the plane at ass o'clock in the morning sucks, but is made better by being in first class- Tyler insisted on paying. It seemed like a bit much, but he persuaded you: 

"I'm making you go.” “You're losing out on tips. At least let me pay.”

“It's not even like we need a hotel… 

“You can make it up to me in other ways."

It took a few days for him to convince you, but you eventually gave in, insisting you'll do most of the cooking, and cleaning while you're there, ensuring you earn your keep.

You're happy he convinced you because it is infinitely easier to fall asleep in first class and you're pretty sure you're going to hate going back to economy class after this. 

He nudges you awake when you land, "Hey, sleepy, lets go." He already has both carry-ons, so you grumble at being woken up, but you trudge through the airport a step behind him as he texts his mom to let her know you've landed safely. 

"No one else is coming up until a little later, we'll have the place to ourselves for a few hours." He gives you what you assume is meant to be a meaningful look, but you can't be bothered to flirt when it's pre-9 am. 

"Good, maybe I can take a nap." 

_________

When you pull up it's actually really picturesque, lakeside and a far cry from his McMansion back in Dallas. He parks the car on the crunching gravel before getting out and grabbing the bags from the trunk. 

You try to pull yours away from him a few times, but he won’t let you carry anything. It’s ridiculous, since all you brought is a weekender sized luggage and you’re certainly capable of carrying it yourself, but it is nice that he’s a gentleman, so you don’t make too much of a fuss. 

He unlocks the door and it’s just as beautiful as his house back in Dallas, bright and big, gorgeous hardwood throughout the whole open floor plan with floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the lake, glistening in the early morning sun.

It’s really, really beautiful- serene and calm, but you really, really want to nap, so you're not a cranky mess when you meet his family. 

As he drags you through the house and to the stairs, you yawn and he gives in, “Okay, okay, point taken. We can sleep.” 

The door he chooses at the end of the upstairs hall opens to a big bedroom, probably the master, if the balcony overlooking the lake outside is indicative of anything. You wiggle out of your hoodie and pull back the blankets, “Should we be sharing a room? Is your family going to think I’m slutty.”

He doesn’t answer directly, but rolls his eyes so hard you get the point. “I’m just trying to make a good impression. I don’t know!” 

“They’re not going to think that,” he peels back the comforter on his side of the bed and tugs off his shirt before lying down next to you. “I don’t bring girls around here often…" he considers, "... ever?” He rolls toward you and lets his leg rest against yours. It’s too hot for any more body contact than that, so you don’t mind.

You're nervous for what's going to happen when you wake up. The excitement of being on vacation with Tyler giving way to a very real fear that his family will hate you; you already overheard whoever he was talking to last night not wanting you to tag along on family time. 

You can't help it as you mash your eyes together and whisper, “Tyler?" He hums, eyes closed, sleep already setting in, “Who were you on the phone with last night when I got to your house?”

His eyes open, “My sister, why?” his mouth is set in a straight line, jaw tight, and you’re not sure you should continue your questioning, but you’re so nervous and you need your questions answered. 

“I overheard a little of what you said to her when I walked in. I didn’t mean to, but I did,” he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “It didn’t really seem like she wanted me to crash your family weekend.” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to offend or point fingers at his sister before you’ve even met her. 

“I don’t really care what she wants,” Tyler pulls you towards him into his bubble of warmth. 

“That’s not nice, Tyler,” he leans in close and kisses you on the nose. 

“You’re right. Still don’t care though. We’re going to have a good weekend,” all you can do is sigh, hope he’s right, and close your eyes to slide into your nap. 

_________

When your alarm goes off, it’s time to face the music, so you stretch and roll out of bed, ignoring a grumbling Tyler behind you. 

You shower in the adjoining bathroom; even that has a stunning view of the lake. Tyler starts making noise from the bedroom as you're swiping on mascara in the mirror and letting your hair air dry. He pops his head in the bathroom after knocking, "Hey, they said they'll be here in 30 minutes. I'm going to order in so we can eat when they get here. I'm starving." Nodding your assent, you brush through your hair again and check your reflection for the thousandth time. 

Standing over the two outfits you’d laid out on the bed, you settle for the high-waisted shorts and a flowy blouse. Nothing too short, and nothing too tight, you don’t want to come across at all tawdry the first time you meet his family. As you slide on your sandals you can hear a ruckus downstairs, paired with a whole bunch of female voices.

Time to face the music. 

After a deep breath and one last look in the mirror to smooth down your outfit and triple check that your shorts aren’t showing any cheek, you make your way down the stairs. 

_________

You can tell immediately that Tyler’s mom is effervescently happy to meet you. She pulls you into a hug and takes the chair right next to you at the table as Tyler tips the delivery driver and plops down a few pizza boxes on the counter. Tyler eyes her warily and sits down on your other side. He rests his foot against yours under the table and catches your eye. The move is clear, we’re in this together. It’s comforting. 

After everyone has dragged a slice of pizza onto their plate and chewed a few bites, his mom can’t seem to hold out any longer. 

“I don’t know if he’ll be mad at me for saying this, y/n but this is the first time Tyler has brought a girl to the lake.” His foot nudges yours gently. 

“Yeah, he mentioned that earlier,” you sip your water and continue, “I think it was supposed to calm me down but it just put the pressure on!” She smiles. It’s warm and that calms you down more than anything Tyler could have said. 

His younger sister, Cassidy, pipes up, “It’s just us, no reason to be nervous. We’re not his fancy Dallas friends.” You take it as a win, but you’ve still yet to get more than a sideways glance from his elder sister, and you’re sure she’s the one who was on the phone, protesting against him bringing you along. 

You can’t blame her. They live so far and she probably rarely gets to see him, it makes sense that she’s less than thrilled at you tagging along, taking up their family time.

It makes you want to prove her wrong, show her you’re not that clingy girl looking to drive a wedge between him and his family. You're just not sure how.

_________

When the wine comes out after dinner things get easier.

Jackie disappears into a closet and returns with Scrabble. Tyler is good, which (you’re embarrassed to say) surprises you, always ready to judge a jock. As your glasses empty and refill a few times the game gets progressively sillier. You challenge Tyler a number of times. 

He confidently lays down “playwrite” and starts to tally up his total before you get a better glimpse at the board and shake your head. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so! Pick that up!” 

He looks at you adamantly, “What’s wrong with playwrite?! It’s one word!” He gestures his hand toward the board.

“That’s not how it’s spelt! It’s W-R-I-G-H-T!” Tyler squints his eyes at you, tilting his head to the side like you’re being purposely difficult. 

“That makes absolutely no sense, they write plays!”

You cross your arms over your chest, “Doesn’t matter, it’s wrong!” 

Tyler matches your stance, “Is that an official challenge?” 

When you look over at the rest of the table you can see his mother is barely holding in a laugh as his sisters smirk up at his ridiculously defensive stance. The score is close and the letter bag is empty. The G is resting on a triple letter, the P on a triple word and you hope to God you’re not too drunk to remember how to spell. You nod solemnly, watching Tyler grab his phone. 

He types something out and you can tell you're right the moment his expression softens and deflates. 

“Fine,” he pulls a few of his letters off the board and leaves only “write" remaining, before adding up the score and writing it down on the paper next to him. Candace runs through all of her letters on her next turn and you all have to subtract your remaining letters from your own scores. She beats you by 3. 

After boxing up the game and tidying the table, you all sleepily stumble up to bed, exhausted from all of the travel and wine. Tyler kisses his mom goodnight and hugs his sisters. You do this awkward hug with his mom, not sure if you’re there yet, but she wraps her arms around you and says “Night hon,” so you’re probably overthinking it. His sisters call out a good night to you before they head into their rooms, but no one looks sideways at you and Tyler entering the bedroom together, so you take it as a small victory.

_________

Scrubbing off your make-up in the bathroom is exhausting, but a necessary evil, so you stand in front of the mirror again reflecting on the past few hours, the night coming full circle. 

“I can hear you dissecting every word that was said tonight. Come to bed, babe. It’s not that real,” Tyler’s footsteps creak on the hardwood and alert you to his presence before you can see him in the mirror behind you. 

“Do they like me?” You put down the wash cloth and turn to him. “I’m nervous. Help meee,” you’re only half kidding as you whine and stick out your bottom lip hoping Tyler takes pity on you. 

He does. 

He wraps you up in his arms and your face, still damp from washing it, leaves wet blotches on his t-shirt. “They like you just fine, you psycho. Relax,” he kisses the top of your head. “I like you that’s all that matters.”

Stepping back you look up at him, “Eh.” You smirk and he calls you a little shit before kissing you hard on the mouth. His hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing once before he reaches for the front of your shorts. 

“I don’t think so mister. Your family is here!” you chastise him in a harsh whisper. He rolls his eyes but lets go, dragging his hands back around to your butt. He rolls his eyes, but leans down and kisses your neck. 

“Fine, but just know that I’m sad about it,” the way he whispers it into you ear has you second guessing your decision,  but it’s still hard to hold in the laugh. 

“Noted, but just know that I don’t care.” You let him drag you to bed and lave soft kisses down your neck before you fall asleep.

_________

When you all tumble out of bed the next morning the sun is shining. It glints off of the water making it sparkle in the summer heat and everyone quickly decides to spend the day on the lake. 

You always feel a little scrubby next to Tyler when he’s half naked. He’s hard and toned, barely an ounce of fat on his lean body. Meanwhile, you know it’s obvious that you don’t spend enough time in the gym and definitely love carbs.

As soon as he invited you to the lake, you went out and bought a new bathing suit. It sits high enough on your torso to hide your lower belly and nip in flatteringly at your waist while the top lifts and supports as much as you could hope for, so you think you look okay. 

When his sisters make their way out on the dock you instantly want to wrap yourself up. You know you’re built differently, but it doesn’t stop you from unhelpfully comparing your bodies. They’re long and lithe, and you feel nervous that they’ll find something to pick apart and cement their dislike of you.

After a few minutes, your fears dissipate. Everyone is enjoying a relaxing day in the water and no one is staring at your thighs like they’re offended. Candace even tells you she likes your suit, so you know you’re being silly and remember that you have nothing to be self conscious about. Life isn’t a teenage rom-com and no one cares if you have some cellulite on your butt. It helps that you catch Tyler sliding his sunglasses down his nose and winking at you when his sisters aren’t looking. It makes your heart freeze before thumping wildly against your ribcage. 

You take turns getting dragged around the water on an inner tube as Tyler speeds the boat along the empty lake. Jackie shouts to be careful from the dock, drenched in the shadow of her sun-hat looking truly terrified. Everyone laughs and waves at her, cheering when Tyler jerks the boat around trying to throw you all off of the tube.

When the sun starts to set you hop in the shower and everyone ditches their bathing suits for a bath and dinner. Tyler grills up burgers outside and you all sit on deck around the table, laughing and eating, less tense than the evening prior. 

As the sun fully sets it gets chilly on the water, so you all head inside and start up a game of rummy. It’s friendlier than the game of Scrabble. It turns out none of you are very good at remembering what another player picked up and you are all holding a meld that someone else is also trying to build. 

Jackie wins, she claims she’s had longer to learn strategy and you all boo her, chucking your cards into the middle of the table before heading up to bed, thoroughly worn out from the long day on the water.. 

_________

Sunday passes largely the same way. Tyler lets you all take turns driving the boat, which is simultaneously the most fun you’ve ever had and the most terrified you’ve ever been. 

“Cassidy barely got her license and Candace has a lead foot. I don’t know what I was thinking!” He looks over at you, hat backwards on his head and looking bronze from head to toe. You can barely process what he’s saying when he looks like this, but his sisters squawk at his unfair assessment.

“I only failed one time!” Cassidy shouts over her shoulder. 

Candace nods, “And I’m the one who taught you how to drive, little brother. Have some fucking respect for your elders!” Candace sniffs, offended, and turns back towards the bow. 

After Tyler has insulted everyone’s boating abilities, he breaks out some paddle-boards from the boat garage. Turns out paddle boarding is not a hidden talent of yours. You’re far too clumsy to stand up for any length of time. All three siblings are athletic enough to maintain balance while laughing and shouting pointers at you to no avail.

That night's dinner is a little subdued because you all know you’ll be leaving in the morning and your little bubble of vacation is about to pop, but you feel like you've made headway with Candace. She sits across from you at dinner and asks about your life back in Texas and seems genuinely interested in your answers, even if it is just about the diner you work in or where your little apartment is in relation to Tyler’s house.

You know you're correct when she drags you in the house to get stuff for smores as Tyler lights a fire up in the yard. You're in the middle of grabbing the graham crackers when she corners you in the pantry. 

"I just wanted to apologize," she looks you directly in the eye and it's a little unnerving. 

"For what?” you shrug, not wanting to let her know you overheard Tyler on his phone call with her. 

"I just… I wasn't sure about you. But I'm actually really happy my brother brought you around." You smile and she does a little too, but continues, "It's hard to tell who's with him for the fame and the money and who actually likes him for his dorky self."

Her face drops when your brows knit together in confusion, "The fame?" 

It's her turn to look confused, "Yeah? Because of the…" she tapers off, tilts her head to the side, and you can see the family resemblance in the mannerism, "Did that fucking idiot not tell you what he does?"

"I just-” she stares at your with her brows knit together and it’s hard to continue, “I assumed he was an athletic trainer of some sort,” you start. "He travels a lot, and he's in good shape and, you know- it's Texas. Football’s big there. The players need to condition…"

She's shaking her head in her hands and you don’t know how this conversation went south so fast. 

"Okay. I'm going to tell you a secret. Please don't clue him in that you know...” She types into her phone, manicured fingers tapping gently against the glass. When she spins her phone around the Google search results have everything clicking together in your head. “Buuuuuut he's kind of a big deal." 

"Are you kidding me?" 

Candace looks stricken, eyes wide and palms out in front of her.

"You can't tell him I told you. He'll kill me. Please don't be mad. You can understand why he'd be cautious…" 

"I won't say anything. I just can't believe I didn't think of it. He's such a dope." You roll your eyes but start heading out of the pantry. "C'mon, they're going to get suspicious," you nudge her shoulder with yours so she knows you're okay. Candace looks relieved and follows you outside with the marshmallows. 

Your flight leaves early in the morning and you say goodbye over breakfast before loading up the car and driving to the airport. You're too tired to be mad at him for keeping you in the dark. You hate to say it, but you understand. By the time he drops you off at your house and kisses you goodbye, after thanking you for spending time with his family, you're so soft for him you forget why you were ever angry in the first place. 

_________

He’s not quite sure what to do now. It’s been so long. They’ve been dating for almost five months at this point. She’s been to his house, knows his dogs; she met his mother for Christ’s sake. 

With camp coming to an end and pre-season looming in the very near future, he’s out of time. 

So, he has her over. He makes her grilled cheese and pours her wine, just like the very first time he ever got her to come back here. He hopes the nostalgia will soften the blow of the bomb he’s about to drop. 

She sits there in her leggings, wrapped up in one of his sweatshirts. It’s now or never and he knows it. Has to spill the beans before she sees his face plastered on commercials and all over downtown Dallas next to Jamie’s on a billboard. 

He's casual, "So I, uh, have a little bit of a confession to tell you." 

She looks up and stops chewing, eyes wide and brows high. She puts her grilled cheese down and has a sip of water before turning to him, hands in her lap. “That sounds ominous.”

He doesn’t know what’s about to happen, but he knows he can’t put it off any longer, “I didn't really lie, but I've definitely omitted some truth. We're getting really close, so I think it's only fair that I tell you what you're getting yourself into."

She nods, picks her grilled cheese back up and picks at the crust, “You have some bodies buried under the pool or something?” 

He loves her. 

“No, nothing like that,” he sips his wine. "I, Uh. I'm…" he pauses and she nods for him to continue. "I’m a little famous? I play in the NHL and that's why I'm always traveling and my work schedule is so crazy."

There. It’s out in the open. She can reject him if she wants, but he did what was right. The silence stretches on as she chews her dinner thoughtfully and he has a mini-panic attack thinking of everything that can go wrong. He hardly had her buy in at the beginning of this relationship; could this be the weight that breaks the tenuous string of trust she gave him? 

He doesn’t say anything. Just waits for her and bounces his knee up and down, needing to do something to loose the frenetic energy building up in his body. 

She swallows the bite of grilled cheese in your mouth and nods, "Yeah, I know." 

The first thing he feels is relief. It’s cool and soothing and coats his body. The second thing he feels is utter bewilderment. "You know?" It comes out more accusatory than he intended. He’s just… shocked is all.

Nodding, she answers. "Yeah I've known for a while. Like a month now I think?" 

He can’t even string a whole sentence together. The only words leaving his mouth are half questions, “Who? I don’t- When did you? What?” She bites her lip to stifle a laugh and he takes a breath and tries again. 

“How did you find out?” 

She barely shrugs, gently lifts one shoulder and pats him on the knee, “A good investigator never reveals their sources…” He shakes his head, “but maybe it was a certain sister, who shall remain nameless”

It takes a minute or two for him to settle, but he stops and lays both of his hands on her knees. "It’s just as well I guess. You're okay with that? With my life?" He has to know she’s all in, just like he is. She won’t block his number and ghost him when she catches sight of the cardboard cutout of him that some of the bars downtown display as mostly a joke.

She lays both of her hands midway up his thighs, stares into his eyes and grins, "I don't scare easily."  Her smile is devastating and his heart explodes in his chest. She’s not going anywhere. She’ll still have him. All of him. 

He can’t help himself and he leans down and lays a kiss on her lips- mouth salty and soft. It’s sweeter somehow, with nothing separating them, "What a coincidence. That happens to be my favorite quality in a girl."

[eevee-winters]

The Gentleman

Victor x Reader

1900 words

After the events of LFG Christmas party, you awake up to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. What happened last night?  Who’s bed is this? Where are MY clothes? 

This is what happens after my story  A Christmas Invitation so I suggest reading that before this if you have not all ready.

Warning: NSFW (barely), FOOD PORN, heavy petting

“uhhhhh” you groan while stretching out your body after a long peaceful sleep. You are cradled by the purest form of comfort.  Eyes still closed, you run your palms across the silky feel of the most exquisite sheets you have ever caressed.

Opening your eyes, they flutter as they slowly adjust to the sun light gleaming through partly folded curtains of an unfamiliar room.

“Where am I?? you grab you head. “What happened last night” you grumble. Your head pounds as you sit up to take in your surroundings. You are in a large stark white bedroom, there is a large black marble fireplace searing across from the bed, no wonder the room was nice a toasty as opposed to the frozen tundra out the window. The bed was large with a beautiful dark obsidian headboard, the king sized mattress was wrapped in thin silver silk sheets, the epitome of luxury, they felt like something you could only imagine would be found on the beds of modern day kings and queens, and the mattress caressed and molded to your body as if sleeping on supple clouds.The room was immaculate, the color pallet was black, white & grey , and everything was prim & in its proper position. Although something on the night stand caught your eye. Hiding behind the lamp was a cute orange shiba ina doll.

 Is this Victors house? Am I in Victors bed? Did we …….? your thought was spinning out of control. You sprang up, the sheets fall off your body and you realize that you are not in your costume from last night, you were in a cute tabby cat pajama top with no bottoms. 

The last thing you could remember from that party was Victor showing you that view. Everything else was fuzzy. maybe I shouldn’t have had that third drink you thought looking around frantically for some pants.

*knock knock knock* You jump to attention with the sound at the bedroom door. 

“_____ it is 10 a.m. don’t you think it is time to get up” said the coarse voice behind the door.

Still in a panic you open a different door in the room to find a large master bathroom, on the floor you find the bottoms to match the pajama shirt you are wearing. Desperately you put on the pants right as the door opens. In walks Victor, he was in black stripped pajamas, his hair was still a bit wet from being fresh out of the shower.

“If you don’t get up now your breakfast will get cold” he asserted. Victor was holding a tray, he sat it down on the side table, walked over to the covers and genitally pulled them back, but the girl was not there. He turned to look at the bathroom door to find a crimson faces girl peaking at him through the door way.

“Are you hiding in there?”

“I…… I’m not hiding”

“You have a dumb look on your face, it suits you well” Victor teased “ Come your breakfast is getting cold. Victor watched as the girl came out of the bathroom, climbed up into the bed and proceeded to hide under the covers.

“Victor is this your bed?” you muttered, terrified to look him in the eye.

“Idiot, who else’s bed could it be?” he rolled his eyes

“Did you….. I mean did we….. uh?” you mutter apprehensively 

Victor stares at you with intense sorrowful eyes. “Are you saying you don’t remember, could it have been that forgettable? I know it was my first time but I thought I did a good job. I assumed it was your first time too, wasn’t it.”

You started to feel yourself lose consciousness. You have dreamed of what your first time with a man would be like. You wanted it to be special for there to be butterflies,teddy bears, ginkgo leaves, or roses SOMETHING. Not some drunken night with your boss after a office party. The look on Victors face was so somber, a proud man like him would be heart broken if you told him he was terrible in bed, even if it was his first time. HOLY SHIT IT WAS VICTOR FIRST TIME at this point you had to say something to make him feel better.

“Oh yeah of course I remember. You know my brain can be slow to start up in the morning, you’ve seen me in early meetings. It was really wonderful”, you lie as chill bumps emerge up and down your spine. I” think we both did great for our first time.” At this point your face is officially a tomato.

Victor’s face goes from melancholy to his iconic poker face. “Yes it was my first time, my first time bringing home an idiot that drank to much, passed out and puked all over her clothes. I told you to slow down, you know you can’t handle your liquor.”

You are still smiling awkwardly at Victor up until his words begin to register in your mind. RIP your soul leaves your body Your body recoils from him in embarrassment, pulling the covers over yourself determined to hide from him forever. “I thought we had sex but this is so much worst” word spills from your mouth before your brain has time to fully process them, “OMG” you pop from under the cover “not that sleeping with you would have been bad I just thought that is what hap…..” Victor places a finger over your mouth, then chuckled “Dummy, I know what you meant, it is alright I am just glad you are feeling better. You were pretty sick after the party now come eat so you can get your strength back.” 

He places the tray in front of you, then uncovers the steaming hot breakfast. There is a white cheddar & spinach egg white scramble, turkey bacon as well as some avocado toast, strawberry jam with freshly squeezed orange juice.

It all smelled so wonderful, completely forgetting all of your recent transgressions you start to dig in. Just as you imagined it was spectacular. UwU

After breakfast Victor gives you some alone time so that you can wash up. In the bathroom there is even a new pink tooth brush for you to use. Once you are done cleaning yourself up on the bed a new light blue blouse and a pair to dark brown jeans are on the bed for you to wear. The clothes were your styles and a perfect fit. Is there anything Victor is not good at? 

You walk down the stairs to see Victor sitting on a chase lounge reading his morning paper. 

“Thank you so much for the clothes, how did you know my sizes?”

“I sized you up years ago” Victor responded without even looking up from his article.

“So what else do you remember from last night?” Victor’s outer appearance was his usual deadpan expression, but on the inside his mask was cracking. The girl had seem receptive before, but was it only because she was intoxicated. For the first time in a while Victor begun to second guess his decision to be upfront with his heart. 

“The night is coming to me in pieces, I remember you leading me to the elevator, taking me to your office showing me that view, then you……”  The Kiss Your face turns bright pink as the kiss with Victor last night crosses your mind.

“Anything else?” Victor encourages. His brow arches in reaction to the sudden change in color to your face.

“Uh no….. nope nothing…. nothing else.” Your voice goes up two octaves, and slight beads of sweat begin forming on your brow.

Victor places down his paper. His eyes gleam with a seductive look as he get up an slowly saunters close to you.  Unlike his usual poker face,  is expression was bewitching. The closer he move toward you the further back you stepped, taking one final step you tumbled over onto the steps. 

Victor laughed “Are you afraid of me? I am not going to bite you dummy.” He kneels down in front of you “Now let me help you remember the events from last night.”

Victor leans over gently places his hand behind your neck, his deep gaze into your irises arose  a warm tingly feeling in your stomach. Then in one smooth motion his soft lips caressed your mouth, the taste of mocha on his tongue converges with the sweet mint on your own. Pulling you in close, firmly pressing his chest against yours. Your heart was beating in your throat, the heat from Victors body was cause your body to sweat. The goose bumps from his touch were to much to handle, and you began to shiver.

“Victor please stop, we…… we can’t……”

Victor quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I guess it was the alcohol last night. I would  never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.” His facial expression became so somber, Victor thought that his worst fears had become a reality. 

“Oh no what I mean is…..” avoiding direct contact with Victor eyes, you began fidgeting with the buttons on your sleeves “ I have never done anything like this before, I just don’t want to do it here on the stairs.”

Victor looked at the girl whom he had loved for so long, the innocents on her face was so pure. He stood up, bent down and cradled her in his arms, and began walking up the steps.

“Victor, haha what are you doing? Put me down I am not a baby.” you giggled nervously. He pushed the bedroom door open with his right foot, softly laid you down on the bed, removed his shirt, ran his finger through your hair & “You are my baby?” NOSEBLEED

Who is this guy? Could this be the same stern CEO that I have know all this time? He straddled you placing his left hand behind your head & his right was in laced in your fingers.  His kisses became more wistful, his tongue playing in and out of your mouth. Your body was on fire, this was the first time a man had been on top of you this way, everything was foreign to you.

The hotter your body got you couldn’t help but want Victors hands to touch more of you. Feeling this weight on you your body began to just go with the flow. You wrapped your arms around him stroking the smooth firm muscles on his back. Your body start writhing around in anticipation of what he would do next. 

Victor proceeded to kiss your face then, slowly moving down to your neck, when his tongue nipped the fleshly are near your collar bone you let out a shameful moan. Victor was a very attentive lover and quickly doubled down on that spot, licking, nibbling and sucking on your new discover “spot”. Instinctively your fingers clawed there way into his back leaving etches of pleasure in there wake. Your legs began to part as if inviting their new found admirer inside.

“Seem like a certain someone is getting excited, I like your enthusiasm, but I have been waiting along time to just kiss you like this. I am a gentleman I don’t need everything all at once. We can save the rest for another time.”

FIN  

To Be Continued  

[idga-buck]

use somebody || four

pairing: harry x plus-size!reader

word count: 1,700

warnings: harry is a randy gentleman with wandering hands, less douchebaggery, slightly improved attitudes toward women

summary: things progress with harry but that ends abruptly when his date finds you

challenge: @baezen​‘s the Other Guys Writing Challenge

previous // masterlist // next

gif: @clintfbarton

After establishing a clean slate, it was another week or two before Harry saw you again.

Another party, this one even less exciting than the last. Same people, same trashy outfits, same annoying cement and pebble water feature on someone else’s big patio overlooking the Valley. Harry was exhausted from work, but came out anyways at the behest of a girl he used to fool around with before she landed the coveted “woman on table” role in CSI and insisted she needed a boyfriend who was more supportive of her creative endeavors. She was fun but apparently that wasn’t what the big execs were looking for because she’d called him instead of Chad Michael Murray. He didn’t care much, but now that Nikki was off his couch and staying with a new woman until he managed to screw that up too, he wanted to go out. Alone. And have fun without cleaning up someone else’s mess. The beer was expensive and the food had been sitting out on ice too long to look appealing, but no one ate at these things. They were there for something else, something primal. To perform, to cultivate a tribe that would bolster them, to find a mate. For a night. Longer if the sex was good.

His cynical spiraling stopped short when her arms found his waist from behind. Harry’s smile wasn’t entirely fake, content to have someone who wanted him there and was excited to see him. She clung to his hand then his wrist when their palms stuck with clammy sweat from the warm evening air. He took plenty of opportunities to slip his hand into her back pocket, so tight his rings caught on the lip. Harry sword in his head and spun her close to kiss her, distract from the way he pulled his fingers free before palming the entire seat of her low rise jeans. There was nothing to grab so he slid his palms over the pockets until he found thigh with little warning and climbed back up, hoping it was hot and not weird. Girls already thought he was weird, he couldn’t lose those early moments when his kisses and his cute smile was enough to keep them around. He was painfully aware of his strengths. Nikki could con a woman into needing him for months, years in some cases, he groaned every time he saw Lindsey, too sweet to still be pining after that asshole. Harry had a couple weeks, max, before getting lost in his own head, staring at a hurt face on the cusp of tears without a thing to say. He knew he couldn’t make it better, so he froze. Every. Single. Time. This girl was different. She wouldn’t make it that long and he didn’t care.

He didn’t. Until he spotted you. He watched from a distance for a while, the way you wove through a room it looked like you’d rather not be in without looking smug or self righteous. The kitchen lights bounced off the shiny material of your jacket and Harry was determined not to lose you.

“Need a drink,” he mumbled while pulling away from her grabby hands.

“No, I’m okay, I’ve- hey!”

It wasn’t a question. Harry removed her legs from his lap, tossing them onto the lounge as gently as he could before holding up his hands apologetically and ducking into the crowd.

Through the giant windows, he could see you perusing the interior. It was a beautiful night and most people were huddled around the pool or one of the many diy bar carts scattered around. Slipping inside, he realized how much quieter it was and snapped the sliding door shut behind him. He briefly considered locking it. You looked up at the sound and your eyes softened remarkably. If you were happy to see him too, he’d have hit the jackpot.

“Didn’t take you for a creep.”

The half laugh half scoff that followed was cute. “Excuse me?” Your eyebrow cocked up and Harry put on his best smirk before letting it melt away into something more innocent and befitting the tone.

“Everyone else is outside,” he pointed out, crossing the room to plant his palms flat on the black marble island between you. “But you’re in here, alone… lurking.” You shook your head at him, but you were smiling.

“I’m not a party guest.”

“So this is breaking and entering?” Harry pushed up off the counter and threw an accusatory finger in your face. 

“I haven’t broken anything!” You held your hands up in surrender.

 “Then, I can only assume you’re some sort of spy.”

It wasn’t a half laugh that time. It was real and full and even though you turned your body away from him, your eyes drifted back over the counter top to his. “I don’t think Darius is important enough to spy on,” you turned away again and started walking away. So that’s whose house we’re in. Harry shrugged it off. Most of the time he made a point to know, but he hadn’t that night and suddenly he was curious. If there was a connection between you and this Darius would he find it by following you around like a puppy? Couldn’t hurt.

Harry watched your fingers drift over certain surfaces, but your eyes were everywhere, taking in every inch of the space. Some corners received more scrutiny than others and he couldn’t make out why. You’d sent him more than one flirty smile, but he’d kept his distance in case it was just hopeful thinking. At least until you opened a sleek silver door with a wink and descended the freshly revealed stairs. The passage was dark and narrow with strips of lighting under each step to illuminate the way down and nothing else. It was a confusing combination for a house so big and bright, but at the base of the stairs, you’d stopped and turned to face him and he suddenly didn’t care. Harry took the last step down and found one of his feet sandwiched between your shoes. He shuffled forward until he could feel your thighs on either side of his. Not how he pictured the night going, but he had no objections. Reaching forward, he found one of your hands quickly and pulled you closer to him. He imagined your face just in front of his and with his free hand, reached up to find your cheek. It was fast, faster than he usually went, but why else would you have beckoned him into a dark secret room and squeezed his fingers so alluringly. He was going to kiss you, he’d already decided weeks ago, when he suddenly realized the hand he wasn’t holding had been groping the wall next to him. The large overhead light flicked on at your command and nearly blinded him in surprise. Your hand slipped from his without resistance and you laughed at him as you backed away, but it only made him want to kiss you more.

Ignoring the almost moment between you, you were already off, brushing your fingers along the dimpled glass bottoms of rows and rows of wine bottles. A cellar. A nice one too, Harry noted before looking back to you.

“I wanted to see the new addition,” you explained without being asked and gestured around above your head toward the party that continue without you two. Harry wasn’t missing it all at the moment. “I didn’t know I’d have so much company when I stopped by.”

“It’s just me now,” Harry pointed out, pulling a bottle from its resting place to peruse the label. It meant nothing to him, but he let out a mumbled ‘good year’ before slipping it back into the hollowed out groove. Just in case.

“That was a surprise,” you said.

“A good surprise?” He looked up again, hopeful. You only smirked and twirled around again, suddenly finding something that needed your attention more than him. Impossible. 

Harry stepped up behind you, close enough to hear the gasp when the curve of your butt was suddenly pressed up against him. He leaned over your shoulder to speak into your ear, both hands resting on your waist. “Is this okay?” You nodded and his body was vibrating when you leaned back against him. His hands tried to slip forward to your stomach, but you quickly caught his wrists and pulled them higher. He didn’t mind at all, especially when you released his hands just before they slid over your breasts. They were more covered than the last time he saw you, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t allowed to touch them that night, not like he had before, making this moment an instant favorite. 

Your sigh was quiet and yet it bounced around in his head lighting up memories of your night together like a cerebral pinball game as he squeezed the ample flesh and groaned himself at the feeling. He squeezed again, but let one hand travel even higher. Harry stuttered over the neckline of your tank top, briefly considering a deep dive underneath, before letting his fingers continue on their journey to your jaw. The slow turn gave him a moment to lick his lips and then they were on you. Your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then hungry for more, he was shocked to find your lips already seeking his out too. The kiss was hard, but a quick adjustment of his head and Harry was in control, moving his mouth slowly and trying every combination he could think of. His lip on top, his on bottom. When you sighed again, he tried more, liking the way his tongue felt under yours. Wet sounds and soft moans drowned out the approaching footsteps, or maybe he was choosing to ignore them, until an unfortunately familiar voice was letting his name ruin the moment with zero regard for how hot it was.

Your head turned to the stairwell quickly and Harry’s lips chased yours to no avail, landing behind your ear as she drew closer. You tried to pull away, but the blessed wine racks in front of you slowed your escape. He followed you up the stairs again, stopping for half a second to remind the rude interruption in a sparkly blue tube top that he was nothing to her. He tried to make his eyes sympathetic. Nikki wouldn’t have and he’d have Harry’s balls for wording his exit that way, when she was also nothing to him. That wasn’t his way. He could admit to himself that she was no one, someone fun from the past, but he’d always cling to the fact that she only saw the same in him. A warm lap to sit on when she was bored. Which is why he didn’t care what she thought about him practically sprinting away from her without much explanation, but as he hustled through the party crowd and out into the empty street, he knew that he didn’t want you thinking of him the same way. Or worse.

[j-elaine-hyde]

The Townie

Part Three

Chris Evans / Reader / Henry Cavill

This writing is my original work. It is not posted or to be posted on any other platform. K Thanx Bye! Enjoy!

You watched as Chris walked to the stage. He lowered his head, blushed and waved to the crowd before shoving his hands in his pockets. He locked eyes with you and winked.

“Let’s just go ahead and save some time.... I think it’s safe to say we can go ahead and start the bidding at $1,000.” Paula tried pulling the microphone out of the mic stand on the podium, but failed. She gestured her arms out like Vanna White towards Chris.

An eager woman, losing all decorum, yelled out, “One thousand dollars!” She giggled as her husband tried pulling her to sit down.

Chris had his deep blues locked on you. He smiled and laughed to himself as the woman placed her bid.

“Two!” You casually announced from your seat holding up your paddle.

Paula narrowed her eyes at you. “Do I hear 3?”

Women continued bidding, raising it to $15,000 when a very overzealous gentleman in a very loud, stylish suit held up a paddle. “Twenty thousand!”

Chris smiled and pointed at the guy and started applauding. Again he winked at you before shaking his head no just once, letting you know to let the gentleman win the auction.

“Look at that! What a bid! Twenty thousand dollars going once.... going twice.... SOLD!” She pounded the gavel on the podium and pointed at the gentleman in the back.

Chris shrugged and raised his hands applauding as he walked off the stage, before he could even make it to the table, the winning bidder rushed him to shake his hand and pose for a photograph. Chris graciously talked to him for a few minutes, slowly making his way to the table before shaking his hand and sitting down.

“Did you hear that Henry? Twenty thousand... that’s twice what you went for...” he joked with his friend.

Henry laughed and rolled his eyes waving off Chris as he leaned back in closer to Marki.

“Looks like ol Reba has her work cut out for her. He seems pretty into your friend over there...” he brushed your hair behind your shoulder.

You smiled and in a low voice replied, “It does indeed.”

“Well you don’t have anything to worry about. Jonathan was very nice, but he’s not exactly my type...”

You winked at him, “I’m not worried.”

-

The night was finally coming to an end, Chris was in line checking to see if he had won the bids he’d placed in the silent auction as you, Marki, and Henry chatted nearby. Every few minutes someone would come up and ask to take a selfie with Henry. Marki offered to take the pictures for the first few women, but most of them politely declined.

Chris walked back over holding a couple folders in his hands. “Looks like we’re going to the hamptons and we’ll be expert chefs/dancers/painters and massagers in no time!”

“You won both of those, didn’t you?” You laughed.

“Yup! I mean if you don’t want to, I’m sure Jonathan would be more than happy...”

You quickly interrupted, “oh no, I’m in.”

He kissed the side of your head and whispered ‘good’ as he squeezed you close. “Oh hey, this is for you and Marki.”

He handed you a brochure for the day spa you had bid on.

“Chris you didn’t pay for this did you?”

“I did. I was there, and I thought I’d treat you ladies to a relaxing day, it can’t be easy being glared at by every woman in the place all night. My treat.”

“Thank you... you didn’t have to do that.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Chris watched as yet another woman came up asking for pictures. “Let’s get out of here before we both get stuck doing this until dawn. Cavill, we have to go.”

The four of you snuck out an emergency exit into the parking lot.

“So can we interest you ladies in a night cap? Chris here has an obscenely large home about 20 minutes from here.”

Marki’s eyes got wide as she stared at you, making it obvious she wanted to take Henry up on his offer.

“If that’s alright with Chris...” you said quietly.

Chris wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you towards him. “Do you even have to ask?” He smiled at you, placing his hand on the side of your face, pulling you in for a kiss.

His hand around your waist pulled you closer still, pushing his body against yours, his soft lips dancing with yours, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth. You went weak in the knees, but his firm grip on your waist held you up. He kissed you quickly before smiling, “come on Rebel... let’s go.”

-

The ride to his house was quiet, aside from the giggles coming from the backseat as Marki and Henry made out. Chris held your hand as he drove and would raise it to his lips at every stoplight to kiss it. Finally you made it to the gates of his house, slowly making your way up the driveway into the garage.

“I’ll get your door.” He smiled as he hopped out of the car, coming around to open your door.

Inside, the four of you stood in the kitchen toasting drinks to the fun night and new friends.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I wanna get out of this tux. I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and tee shirts you ladies can borrow if you want to get out of those gowns....” Chris offered.

“Omg that’d be amazing!” Marki exclaimed.

“I’ll be right back!” Chris said as he ran to his room to change and retrieve clothes.

The three of you continued talking and laughing when Chris walked back into the kitchen in grey sweats and a Red Sox tee shirt. He had a small stack of clothes that he offered to you, letting you know there was a guest room on the second floor, first door on the left if you wanted to change.

You and Marki thanked him and went upstairs. This was the first time this evening the two of you had been alone to discuss the happy change in tonight’s plan. As soon as the door shut, Marki turned to you and silently screamed.

“Oh. My. God. Y/n. Holy shit. If I’m dreaming don’t you dare wake me up. Girl I was just making out with Henry Cavill in the backseat of Chris Evans’s SUV. Please tell me this is actually happening. Oh my god have you seen how gorgeous he is?! Holy shit!”

She was trying to whisper, but her excitement was getting the better of her. She helped you unzip your dress before turning around so you could do the same.

“How do you know Chris?! Are you guys a thing? Why didn’t you tell me?? How did I not know?!”

You laughed as you pulled on one of Chris’s tee shirts. “He came into the bar the other night and we talked a little... he asked me if I had plans for tonight, and obviously I did, but before I could say anything else he bolted. I closed down the bar and he was waiting for me outside. Not like a creeper, but like to make sure I was safe. That’s it.”

She spun around and narrowed her eyes at you, “Really? Because the way you guys were acting it’s like you’ve been a couple forever. You guys are perfect together. He really really likes you. I can tell by the way he looks at you.”

You were pulling on a pair of sweats as you thought about it. Rolling them at the waist, you checked yourself out in the mirror. You gathered the baggy shirt around your waist, pulling it behind you to tie it in a knot.

“Well...you and Henry certainly hit it off!”

“Oh my gosh, right?! He’s amazing. And such a good kisser... ugh... he’s so hot.”

There was a knock on the door.

“There’s empty hangers in the closet if you want to hang up your dresses!” Chris yelled through the door.

“Thank you! We’ll be right out!” You hollered back.

Once the dresses were hung, and you both checked yourself out one more time, fixing your makeup. You opened the door to find Chris waiting patiently, leaning against the opposite wall.

“Those clothes have never looked that good on me...” he stood up and reached out for you, stepping forward to wrap his hands around your waist. The warmth of his hands on your exposed skin sent a lightning bolt through your body, he must have felt it too because he paused and swallowed hard.

“Let’s go guys!” Marki squeezed passed you as she skipped down the stairs.

“How is it that you look almost as amazing in my sweats as you did in that gown? You’re so beautiful.”

He leaned in for another kiss, pressing his body against yours. You could feel his growing excitement through the thin fabric of his sweats. His hand slid down from your waist, grabbing your ass, pulling you even closer.

The heat and connection between you two was undeniable. Your body craved his, it relaxed and melted into his. You were about to move your hand below his waistband but hesitated. Your hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

Chris pulled his lips away from yours and slid his hand back to your waist. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not... but I am. You’re amazing... and I absolutely want to ravage you.... But I don’t want you to think that’s all I want.”

You lowered your face, trying to hide the smile his words put there. You were torn. You wanted your lips and hands on every inch of body, you wanted to feel him fill you. But you wanted so much more.

“Is that ok?” He lifted your chin, his incredible eyes burning into yours. They were filled with want and emotion.

“Yes! Of course. I feel the same way....”

He leaned down and gave you another kiss. “Let’s go downstairs and hangout before Marki and Henry have sex on my couch.” He laughed and gently smacked you on the ass as the two of you headed downstairs.

To be continued....

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Girl With A Red Shirt (A Red Shirt, part II.)

A/N: This is for @papisully, bcs I just wanted to, alrite? Also, you, as the reader, are drunk as hell in this, just letting you know. Also, the reader is drunk and cocky as shit, so let me live, pls. 

Description: Victor Sullivan, treasure hunter and a businessman in his late thirties. One day, he got back from his gig and met a cute girl in his favorite laundry; just to forget his talisman there. And so, the trouble with the girl starts.

Mood for this one-shot: It just somehow went from Location by Khalid, went through Let’s Get Lost by G-Eazy and Devon Baldwin and somehow ended up at Tumblr Girls by G-Eazy. But you know the drill, listen to what you like to.

Warnings: I might get too carried away by smut. I did an oopsie. 

“Don’t ask me why,” Sully said to the cell phone he had pinned to his shoulder with his head. He was smoking a cigar, calling someone and shaving at the same time. His mind was blown away not even a half an hour ago and he was actually curious about how many things he can multitask at once. “But Imma not gonna come tonite.” 

“But we’re finishing the last pieces of the gig!” A woman with an Australian accent shouted back. She seemed to be mad at him and Sully couldn't say even a word back. They were almost done, after all, and he will be missing during the most important meeting of all. “You know how useless can you be when you get the intel on paper and not personally!”

“I just can't come to see ya tonite, Chloe. I have some different things planned.” Except his planes came to the sight before twenty minutes, maybe even less. He wasn’t sure about that. 

Victor just needed his red shirt back, because he didn't feel complete without it. It was his talisman, after all, wasn't it? And a ridiculously hot girl who chewed bubblegum all the time had it on and she asked him to take it off. 

Was he actually mad to miss this opportunity? Bet your best cowboy hat that he wasn't.   

“You suck my blood so much it isn't healthy, Sullivan. You’ll have to count on Nathan to give you the intel. But I'm genuinely scared of the idea, God knows what would he tell you,” Chloe answered in a seriously irritated tone. 

She and Charlie Cutter were usually the brains of the operation, Sullivan was the money giver and transport reinsurer and Nate was used to be the dumb monkey and muscle. 

“Why couldn't you choose any other day?” She asked when Sully shouted a curse word out loud. He cut his chin on a place where it seriously hurt and he almost killed himself, when he jumped over a stool in his bathroom while he searched for a piece of toilet paper to stuck on the wound. 

“Some plans just come without expectation, love.” He answered when he saved himself from bleeding out. 

“Okay. But you'll need to study OUR plan then, don't forget about that.” She finally gave up and hung the phone. Sully finally got the time for himself to have a quick shower, put some cologne on and to choose clothes to not look like an old archeologic discovery. 

He settled down on a plain white t-shirt, his bomber which he wore while he was driving on a motorcycle and some old pair of jeans. He looked like a man close to his forties, he couldn't lie to himself. But at least he had some personal style.

And Y/N looked like she was into him, so he wasn't worrying as much as he would normally do. Having a woman of her age showing him some affection gave him boost on his pride and gave him some sort of confidence. 

Okay then, he answered her text finally. He was smiling wickedly to the screen of his phone while his tongue was stuck out a bit. Just tell me the place where we'll meet. I'll be there. 

Again, he wasn't waiting too long for a response. She just shared her location with him and he was more than kindly willing to see her. So Victor took his car and went on a short drive to see her. 

He came on the address that she sent to him after not even twenty minutes, looking at a house, there was a seriously loud party on. He had to say that he was disappointed. He looked forward to being alone with her; he really did. 

Not to mention countless scenarios brushing over his head. His imagination was more than kind when it came to those things. Which things, you might ask?

Things like having that girl sitting on his lap in that shirt which was his, slowly taking it off while her smile became larger because she could see the things she caused him, that beautiful pain in his lap. The slow blinking of her eyes while they became darker with lust while she took the jeans off her body, throwing them far, far away. Victor closed his eyes as he inhaled slowly, crawling off his car after that. 

There was a house full of people. Full of young chicks who were smiling at him while they sipped their beer with devils in their eyes. Some pop song was on and there were a few couples dancing, making out in a wild pace; everyone could see that they'll be in the bedsheets together in the next twenty minutes. 

Victor was never actually fond of parties. Yet he didn't seem to be the man, he liked to be with a woman in private, just him and her, not on a loud place, maybe on a walk or on a dinner. Not even at his marina days, which happened twenty years ago, he wasn't actually a party animal. 

The guys seemed to be amused by him; he was at least twenty years older after all. They were all buffed, all young and they seemed to be the funny ones, the cleverest in the whole world and the perfect lovers for someone like Y/N. And he was just there, an old man trying to look cool. 

Maybe he was reading to her in a bad way after all? Maybe he heard what he wanted to hear? Maybe she wasn’t into that idea? 

He almost turned around and walked off the house, letting her to keep his favorite shirt. But then he saw her. 

Well, at first he saw that shit which belonged to him. The shirt showed more and more as she jumped during the dance. Y/N was dancing on the table with another girl, in short, denim shorts and his shirt on, her ponytail was swinging from side to side and her eyes were partially closed as she sang the lyrics. 

He leaned onto a wall, smiling lightly as he watched her. She was smiling, dancing on the table and the youth was dripping from the tips of her fingers. Sometimes, she grabbed that second girl, pushed her body onto hers and put her hands onto the girl’s ass, sliding them into her back pockets.

“You're her dad or what?” A girl leaned next to him and offered him a cup of beer, watching Y/N on the table, putting the show-off. 

“Do I look like her dad?” Sullivan asked with amusement, taking the offered cup and smiled at the girl. She was a redhead with huge glasses on, yet she didn't look like a nerd. It made her round face cute and it just got along with her personal style. 

“If you are, she has an incredibly handsome dad, I must say,” redhead took a sip from her cup and then she trailed her look back to Y/N. “She’s always like that.”

“Seems to be funny enough to me,” Victor answered as he took another sip. He was becoming more and more thirsty as Y/N took the other girl’s to face into her hand, motioning that she might kiss her, yet she didn't. 

“If you like her, you better stop and you should find someone different. She’s almost unreachable for most of the guys out here. And, no offense, old pal, but you're definitely far after zenith for a girl like Y/N.” The girl patted his shoulder as she left him standing there. 

The song finally stopped and Y/N threw her hands into the thin air as the people around them started to clap. Then she high-fived the girl and accepted one boy's hand as he helped her to get off the table. Then she noticed him standing next to the door. Y/N felt as her smile grew a bit larger. She was drunk at that point; she always was when she was on a party of this type. 

Normally, she wouldn't be able to even foreshadow having something with a girl, but when she was drinking, she didn't care. When she was this level drunk, she was able to kiss literally anyone.

Or at least before. Now, she has one particular person on her mind. She wasn't truly believing that Victor will come there to see her. She thought he might not have the balls to strip the shirt off her. But she smiled when he truly came. 

“Hey there, washing lady,” Victor offered her his cup of beer because she seemed to be thirsty as hell. She didn't hesitate at all, drinking almost all of that beer. Y/N seemed to be really gentle, small and cute next to him. He was a giant next to her and that caught the attention of a few girls, including the redhead, and a lot of boys. Nobody actually believed that she would be into that guy, but these things happen.

“I'm glad ya here,” she threw her hands over the back of his neck, looking him to the eyes. Victor leaned in, forgetting all about him being a gentleman, putting his fingers into the back pocket of her denim shorts, bringing her lap closer to his. 

“Well, you told me to take the shirt off. Who am I to not to listen to a lady's wish?” Victor looked into her eyes as she smirked. He felt the redhead just focusing her stares in his direction and he was really proud to prove her wrong. 

Without any foreshadowing, she just leaned in and kissed him. Their lips crushed hard and he could feel her heat just slowly trailing his body as well. She was definitely drunk as hell, but Victor wasn’t complaining. It gave her the courage he liked and pushed him further as well. 

“Come then. I’m not able to wait for you any longer. You let me hang on for almost a week and you didn't come to wash your clothes in the meantime,” Y/N whispered with her eyes pinned to Sullivan’s, taking the cup out of his hand.

She tugged his hand as she navigated them through the house. Victor felt the stares surrounding them and yet he wasn't more proud until that day. 

They took a short hike on the stairs and Victor let her take the lead. She was looking around, changing short looks with other people. Every second she checked Victor. She was afraid that he would leave even tho he was holding her hand in a tight grip. He wasn't planning on leaving her there at any circumstances. 

Finally, she found a bedroom without anyone inside and she let out an animalish growl as she turned around and slammed the door shut, locking them. The music was loud so much Victor couldn't even hear his own thoughts which was actually a good thing. He didn't want to be bothered with his own thoughts. There was no space for rationality at the moment. 

It all happened so fast. Heated kisses stopped only when there was a need to breathe, fingers circled in his air and a smell of desire and passion in the air. Only growls mixed with the music could be heard in the thin air. His bomber flew off his body in an instance, just laying down on the ground just so he could feel her hands roaming his body. 

Then the shoes and socks left their bodies at an equally fast pace, disappearing into the unknown. There was no need for words, no need for anything. There was only her and him alone in a room and desire was burning on each of them.

"What the hell are you doing to me? Just rip the shirt off, stop teasing me, Victor." She begged into his lips and tried to take the shirt and take it off by her own force. Victor immediately stopped her, holding her wrist in a tight grip.

“You're so impatient, young lady,” Victor whispered as he pushed her and let her fall directly on the bed. “You need to learn some patience,” Sully whispered with a voice sounding more like an animal than himself. He had to say that he really adored that a young girl of her nature was able to do that to him. 

He learned how to have his own nature under control while he was in the marina. It looked like if it happened a hundred years ago, it was more than ten years ago and even now, sometimes the man who was working as a marina soldier showed up in him. Especially in times like this.

Victor wouldn't describe this part of himself like a dominant or selfish part, not at all. He just became sure in everything he has done, he was direct and he knew a few ways how to make her scream under his touch. All it took for her was a will to listen. 

“And if I don't want to be patient and I'll be a naughty girl?” Y/N asked as she swung on her knees, taking his belt to her small soft hands, trying to undo it with the grace of a horny beast. 

Victor held her wrists with a small effort to that touch, only a little push was needed to knock her off on her back, pushing his body directly on hers and letting his face rest in front of hers. He stayed in that position a while, he listened to her heartbeat and the rhythm of how she breathed. 

Y/N looked like a painting with her face full of the sweet expectations, she had rosy cheeks and a naughty light in her eyes. Her lips were swollen because of the urgency of the way he kissed her and he felt how much was her body trembling under his weight. 

She was sweet like honey and intoxicating like a shot of alcohol. His head was spinning a bit and if he couldn't feel the heat in between her legs, which was burning through their pants, he would stay in this position for forever. 

“Then I would have to use some methods which are used when I'm taming a little baby girl like you are,” Victor answered in a low, perfectly husky tone even though the voice was raspy and it was stuck inside of his throat. 

He lowered his hands after he made himself sure that she would stay in a position with her hands above her head, kissing her throat hungrily as he made a few of love marks and bites here and there. Victor couldn't help himself, some urge inside of him directly needed to mark her as his, for everyone to see when they left the room. He also expected her to stop him, but when she closed her eyes and panted in a sweet high tone, he knew that he's doing the right thing. 

His hands slowly lured over her, unfortunately, still clothed, body, caressing it through the fabric of his most beloved shirt. With a quick movement, he took off his white shirt and threw it all over the small bedroom. Y/N didn't even give him a quick look, because she used her own hands to unbutton the shirt. She slipped out of it, standing on her elbows and finally watched, how handsome he was. 

He was in good shape, without a doubt. His shoulders were really wide as the muscles were appearing perfectly clearly under his suntanned skin. He was scared and bruised in many places; her favorite was a light, yellow bruise under his left armpit. His body was through a lot and she knew it; he told her about what he does for a living. It wasn't a thing to wonder about.

“You are like some fucked up fantasy,” she whispered under breath when she touched Victor's chin while he unbuttoned her shorts. “Can I be your little dirty  kink?” 

“Let me taste and then we'll see, baby girl,” the shorts and panties were far gone now, as she lay in front of him with her legs opened to show him everything Y/N got. She was basically sinking into the mattress, even the little valley dividing her sweet fanny was wet. She was breathing heavily as he watched her, almost waiting for permission. 

Without any other things popping up in his head, he just leaned forward, showing his head directly to the place she was dripping from. His tongue was fast, rough and that's what she needed so badly. She screamed to the roof and leaned from him in a wave of pleasure; so his forearms circulated around the top of her thighs, holding her directly on his face. Victor wanted this girl to be his death and that was a thing he never wanted before. 

He wished to slowly drown in her dripping pussy, he wanted to close his eyes and slowly fall into the warmth of her lap, letting the tightness slowly choke him. Victor would accept all of that with a graceful smile. None of this was forced. He couldn't even remember a single time when he was kneeling in front of a woman, licking and sucking her like he was about to die and her pussy was the last thing that could save him. He growled into the sweetness as he was trying to get more of that juice. 

After a while, her body found its rhythm, slowly moving in the tempo of his tongue as her hand slowly risen up and twirled in his hair, tucking it gently. Her sweet pitches were the thing that was heating up to go further and further, even though his tongue and jaws were hurting.

“No, no, no,” Y/N said in a shaky voice. She tugged his lips from the hottest spot on her body and Victor looked at her with confusion. Was he too rough? Why didn't she tell him that he's not doing her good? What could be done better? “I want to come on ya, Texas. Take those fucking jeans off and just do me good with that dick you're hiding down there.” Y/N leaned in for a short kiss, tasting her own flavor from his lips. 

“I don't believe ya that ya haven't fucked woman in the woods. I mean, look at ya.” She said as she sat down on her ass and started to take her bra off, taking it with the shirt and throwing it on the ground.

“Look at me?”

“You look like a playboy, Texas. Your body just screams that you just lean woman on a tree and fuck the soul out of her body.” She smirked as she lied on her back, circling her fingers around the top of the bed. 

“I mean, I haven't tried it yet,” Victor smiled when he kicked his jeans on a nearby bookcase. He climbed on the bed in between her legs, watching as her breasts moved up and down. “But if you're up to this sort of things, you can teach me.”

“Fuck me hard, mister Sullivan and then well see,” she whispered in a quiet tone. He mumbled shirt curse word under his breath; he hadn't think about condoms until this minute. 

“Just do it, Texas,” she wiggled her hips from side to side with a smirk of a naughty girl. “I'm on my pills.” 

He didn't need any other words. This was everything he needed to hear. He wanted to fuck the words out of her mouth and the teasing out of her head. Victor took her left hand in his right, entwining their fingers together and crashing his lips into hers as he slowly buried himself inside of her. No words were needed at that moment. It was just the two of them, breathing, sighing of a high woman and animal man growls and the song downstairs just slowing down and thrifting into another one. 

He wasn't gentle with her at all. He was bouncing into her in a rough, quick tempo, he wasn't holding back anything. She was moaning his name with grace and gratefulness, being completely full of his dick. One of their hand was entwined with each other, holding each other in a tight grip, the second one was holding on the headboard od the bed, trying to hold it tightly from moving. 

They were already heard all over the second floor and they knew that, but nothing could stop them at that point.

Her little valley was burning hot and wetter than Niagaras, her boobs were jumping in the tempo which their bodies were moving in. She tilted her head backward, closing her eyes with a sweet symphony out of her mouth. Victor leaned into her throat and started to bite into the tight, firm skin she got there.

They weren't too far from achieving the heights of orgasm. At one point it seemed that she wasn’t able to even breathe as she whined and shaken bit, holding him close by putting her leg on his waist. He could feel her little sanctuary where he was buried tightening in light vibrations at first, just as those words escaped her mouth. 

“I'm about to come, Texas.” 

And that's what made the bomb inside Sullivan just wildly go off. He wasn't gentle with her until that point, but now he went fully in, fucking her into the mattress like a machine. Her body just moved into his as she arched her back and shook her head as the sounds were just escaping her mouth. They went higher and higher as the closed her eyes firmly and all of a sudden...

“Oh my fucking God, Victor!” Y/N screamed loudly out of pure extasy as her body shaken firmly, she held him in her arms as he continued on fucking her to release himself; now holding the head of the bed in his arms as the sweat was pouring from him onto her skin. 

Y/N was lucky enough to find a new level of ecstasy with him. Normally, the guys stopped when she was done, just handling their boners on their own; but Victor wasn't that kind of guy. He wanted to mark even on the place where no-one could see it. Her pussy was wet and handling him so good that he hadn't got any reason to stop until he felt, how the energy is released from him. 

Then, after all of that, he slowly put his forehead on hers, trying to catch his breath. He didn't even notice how wet both of them are because of the sweat and how red her cheeks were. She was still holding his back, trembling a bit, her eyes were closed. She held herself close to him, her pussy was holding his dick, her thighs were holding his waist and her hands were on his back. 

He could finally see what he caused to her - the left side of her neck was practically violet, full of bloody love marks and bites; there were a few on the other side of her neck as well, but not as much as on the other side.

“Are you alright, baby girl?” His palm slowly smoothed her wet hair, definitely released from the ponytail. 

“I've never experienced anything as good as this, Texas,” Y/N said quietly as she kissed him slowly, with that tender, post-sex passion. Sully slowly crawled out of her body, lying next to her, watching her slowly turning to lay on her belly. 

“So you asked if you could be my kink, did you?” Sully trailed his hand from her shoulder to her waist, gently caressing the skin of per perfectly shaped bum. She nodded, smiling into her forearms. “I'm sure you can. But what now?” 

“What about just take the clothes on and leaving this place together? Take me wherever ya want, Texas.” She sat, searching for her panties and denim shorts. 

“God. I want to fuck you again as soon as I can.” Sully whispered as she slowly put her bra on, hiding it underneath his white t-shirt and that motorcycle bomber. Her hair was all around her face in long waves and she was smiling, still having rosy cheeks and sweaty forehead. 

“So come on, we’ll see what we can do about that.” She tried to speed him up while he was taking his boxers and jeans on. When he was all tidily done, she took his hand in hers, taking him out of the house. Sullivan couldn't describe the pride when she moved her hair so every single person could see her marks. She showed them as war scars, she wore them proudly. 

So they left together that day. And the days after as well. 

[ladytea19]

Call Out My Name (AJ Styles One Shot)

A/N: Hello beautiful people! So I had a spark of inspiration last night while listening to music. I was listening to the Weeknd Call Out My Name and thought it would be a great idea for a smut fic. Also myself and my friends in the TTC have grown to like a certain wrestler and thought he would be perfect for this 😊 Mentions of oral sex, daddy kink, and sexual content

Tag List: @tacoshu @gold--gucciempress @littledeadrottinghood @wwevampireamongkpop @evilangel84 @the-carter-mob-don @kingslayers-queen @nerdlife0612 @queenofthearchitect and the rest of the TTC!

It was our 5 year anniversary with my husband AJ. We've met in high school and been sweethearts ever since. Even while he was on the road wrestling, I always managed to stay faithful to him. He was my everything; he always made me feel special.

I got home from work that evening to find a nicely wrapped large box with a smaller box on top along with a note from AJ.

Dinner reservations tonight at 8. I bought something for you to wear. I'll see you tonight darlin’ -AJ

I smiled at his note and opened the large box on our bed. It was a crimson red dress that stopped above my knees and it hugged my body showing off all my curves. The smaller box held a pair of black stilettos. After I showered, I took the flexi rods out of my hair and added my favorite moisturizer and holding spray. My brown curls looked fabulous as I put on the dress that AJ bought for me. He always had good taste, I grinned. I put on some lip gloss and eyeshadow and I admired myself in the bathroom mirror. My honey brown skin radiated under the lights and reflected onto my brown eyes giving off a goldish hue.

Then I heard a car pull up in our driveway along with a car horn. That must be AJ. I slipped on my stilettos and walked downstairs to meet AJ at our front door. He was dressed in an all black suit with a crimson vest and tie along with black dress shoes with crimson accents. His hair was neatly pressed and hung freely. Those beautiful blue eyes met mine and his lips opened in awe as he saw me.

“Wow,” he said. “You look phenomenal.”

I smiled at my husband as I gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Well you have yourself to thank for that,” I told him. “You picked out the outfit.”

AJ chuckled. “Have a good point there. All set to go?”

I nodded. “Yep all set.”

He opened the door and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Such a gentleman,” I smiled.

Dinner went smoothly. We talked as if we were best friends hanging out on the couch. And he courted me to the highest extent. He held out my chair, he complimented me, asked me about my day, the whole work.

Once dessert was served, AJ poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to me.

“Five years ago, I married my best friend and soulmate. You always stood by me while I was on the road, you were there for my best days and worst days. You make me laugh, you make me cry, and I thank God every day that He has blessed me with someone like you. Happy anniversary baby.”

My heart was touched. He sounded so warm and genuine. How did I ever get so lucky to be married to someone like him?

“Happy anniversary,” I said holding back tears.

As we reached our front door and went inside, AJ stopped me from going upstairs.

“Wait here. Our anniversary isn't over yet. I have a surprise for you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn't want to do gifts this year?”

AJ smiled. “I promise you'll like this one. Please?”

He gave that adorable pouty face that made it hard for me to say no to him. Those baby blue eyes of his looked at me like a newborn pup. I gave in.

“Fine. I'll wait here.”

“Great! I'll be right back!”

As AJ ran up the stairs, I went and sat on the couch and took off my shoes. As sexy as I looked in them, my feet couldn't take wearing heels for that long. I scrolled through my phone for about 15 minutes before AJ tapped my shoulder and held out his hand.

“Okay. I'm ready for you now.”

I looked around. “Where's the surprise you were talking about?”

“It's upstairs. Come and see.”

I gave a puzzled look and grabbed his hand as I followed him upstairs to our bedroom. It was dimly lit with candles and it smelled of cranberries. I turned and look at AJ.

“AJ what's…” Before I could finished AJ pinned me to the wall and pressed his lips to mine in a deep kiss. His tongue danced around in my mouth and one hand went into my hair and the other rested on my waist. My arms wrapped around his neck and I moaned into his mouth. I could taste spearmint in the kiss (He must've brushed his teeth while he was up here) and could smell the cologne he wore. My knees felt weak as I was lost in the moment. Our tongues wrestled for dominance as we kissed and I bit AJ's bottom lip just enough for him to feel it.

AJ gave a soft growl as he broke the kiss. “Oh darlin’ you know better than to tease me like that,” he whispered.

I smirked. “I can't help it. It's fun.”

AJ gave a dark chuckle. “So that's how you want to play?” He pressed his lips to the right side of my neck and bit down. I hissed in pleasure and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“AJ,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Begging already?” he chuckled against my neck. “I barely touched you sweetheart.” He kissed the same spot on my neck where he bit me. He sucked and nibbled on that spot until he left a mark. I moaned softly to myself trying not to submit to him just yet. But damn it was a struggle fighting back. He knew all of my sensitive spots and the perfect way to tease each one. His hand went lower to my ass and gave it a light squeeze while his other hand grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to give him better access to my neck. He peppered kisses to my neck and gave soft nibbles to my neck working his way down to my breasts.

He slowly unzipped my dress and gently guided it off my shoulders. There I stood in the crimson and black lingerie I wore as my husband eyed every curve of my body with a lick of his lips. His eyes filled with lust as he stared at me.

“God you look amazing,” he whispered then chuckled. “Oh I'm gonna have fun with you tonight.” AJ took off his jacket, shirt, vest, and tie and I felt heat pool in my stomach and between my legs as I saw his naked upper half illuminated by the candles in our room. I bit my lip and my breath started to quicken.

“Like what you see?” he mused.

I was too lost in thought to say anything. AJ gave a small laugh “Speechless are we? Let me change that.” AJ went back to work teasing me giving kisses and licks to my collarbone stopping at the area where my breasts were visible. He gave a kiss to the exposed area and I could feel his hands reach around my back and unclasp my bra. My breasts were now exposed and my nipples perked once the cool air hit them. I shivered as AJ traced his lips from my breast to my right nipple as he caressed my left breast with his hand. His tongue swirled around my nipple and he twisted the other one with his fingers. I shuddered and moaned all while my hands tugged at his hair.

“Oh AJ,” I moaned. “Daddy please.”

I could feel AJ smirk against my breast. “Oh you must be in the mood now if you're calling me Daddy already. Patience darlin’ there's still more I wanna do.” He gave my left nipple a tug and I hissed. His tongue traced back up to my lips as he kissed me, his left hand still massaging and teasing my breast. The heat between my legs intensified as I felt his left hand trace up my thigh. Even in the dimly lit room, AJ could see the blush on my cheeks and my eyes swim with lust and want. My lips quivered as I anticipated his touch. His hand crept closer to the waistband of my panties and I let out a shudder when he slipped his hand inside.

His two forefingers danced around my clit feeling how wet I was getting. I bit my lip to hold back another moan but then he pressed my lips to my neck again. AJ's tongue traced a line up my neck until his lips reached the shell of my ear.

"I wanna hear your voice sweetheart. Don't be shy. I want to hear how I make you feel." He dropped my panties with one tug and opened my legs a bit wider. I could feel his fingers against my folds as he covered his fingers with my juices. I whimpered and moaned and I could feel my legs get even weaker with every touch.

“Fuck AJ,” I growled. “Stop teasing me.”

AJ gave a chuckle against my lips. “Or what darlin’?” He picked me up and laid me on our bed. His eyes darkened with want as he stared down at me. I could feel the growing bulge through his dress pants as he trailed kisses down my stomach to the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs. He kissed along the insides of my thighs, his beard tickling me as he got closer to my core. My hands tangled in his hair as I panted heavily anticipating what was to come next.

AJ gave a soft blow of air to my clit causing me to shiver. Then I could feel his lips against my sensitive core and my back immediately arched off the bed.

“Oh fuck AJ,” I moaned. My hands tightened in his hair as I pulled. He gave a growl and he sucked on my pussy harder licking up every drop of essence I had. I moaned his name louder and I could feel sweat forming on my body, getting more hot and bothered as he continued. His tongue swirled around my clit and then I could feel his index finger centered at my entrance.

“Do you want more baby?” he asked me after licking his lips.

“Yes Daddy,” I breathed. “Please.”

AJ gave a chuckle as he pushed his finger into my soaking core. The stretch was exhilarating as I moaned and whimpered desiring more.

“Oh darlin’ you're so tight,” AJ seductively whispered. “Looks like I need to relax you a bit before you can take me.” AJ pumped his finger in and out of my while going back to suck on my clit. I ran my fingers through my husband's hair as I continued to moan out his name. My body felt like an inferno and I wanted AJ's touch to soothe me. He continued to pump his finger into my pussy and then slowly added a second one increasing his speed gradually as he went. His tongue danced around my clit and I could feel myself getting close.

“AJ,” I whimpered. “I'm so close. Daddy please.”

AJ pumped his fingers more quickly and he increased his speed on my clit. Before I could orgasm he abruptly stopped, taking his fingers out of me and moved his face toward my lips. I could nearly cry.

“Why did you stop?” I whined.

AJ gave a dark chuckle as he licked his fingers clean. “I want you to cum with me inside of you. I want you to feel every inch of me.”

My breathing was rapid and staggered as I watched AJ unbuckle his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. My God, his dick… he was long, thick, and extremely hard. I could feel my pussy throb in anticipation wondering if he could fit inside me. AJ slowly crawled up to me and kissed me. I could taste my juices on his lips and I moaned into his mouth. He pulled away after a few moments.

“You know, chocolate has always been my favorite treat,” he smirked. “And you're the best one I had yet.”

I gasped softly and my body rose up and down as I stared into my husband's eyes. Those innocent blue eyes were now an intense silver as they swam with lust and desire. His lips slightly opened as a trace of my essence lingered on the corner of his mouth. He parted my legs as he settled between them, his dick positioned at my entrance.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded. He slowly pushed inside me, the stretch filling and burning the deeper he went inside. I grabbed his shoulders and whimpered as he went all the way in. AJ shuddered against my lips as he grabbed my sides.

“You feel amazing baby,” he whispered. He slowly pulled out of me and pushed back in now creating a steady rhythm. The way he filled me was intoxicating. His dick filled me perfectly and the way he moaned my name drove me insane. AJ's hands gripped my sides even tighter as he continued to pump inside me. His moans turning into animalistic growls as he went faster.

“AJ yes!” I moaned. “Just like that Daddy.”

AJ's breath quickened and I could feel sweat form on his back. My nails dug into his back as I could feel my orgasm building up. AJ increased his speed and his moans got louder and deeper.

“Fuck baby,” AJ growled. “I'm getting close.”

He pumped even faster as I felt my own climax approaching. Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I felt his dick hit my spot repeatedly.

“Call out my name darlin’,” AJ moaned. “Let me hear you.”

A few more pumps and my orgasm hit like an intense wave. My nails clawed at his back as I screamed his name.

“OH AJ!!!”

I could hear AJ moan my name and tense up as he came inside me a few moments later after helping me ride out my orgasm. He sighed deeply trying to catch his breath as he pulled out of me. The candles were almost burned out when AJ pulled me close to his chest as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“So did you like your present?”

I giggled softly into his chest, looked up at him and smiled.

“I did. Thank you.” I placed a kiss on his cheek and he chuckled. He pulled me into a hug and nuzzled his face into my hair.

“Happy anniversary darlin’”

[flyinghetfield]

Hey look! Chapter 8

——————————————————————————————————

BANG BANG BANG BANG Slowly tearing open your eyelashes, you squint at the morning light beaming into your bedroom. ”Ugh” You put your hand on your head as it slowly starts to throb, memories from the night before start to form and you sit up suddenly, groaning as the headache grows at the sudden movement. BANG BANG BANG BANG The noise echos down the hallway and you swear loudly, throwing off the blanket and take a massive drink out of the water sitting on your bedside table before stumbling out of bed and walking towards the front door. ”This better be good for waking me up this early in the morning.” You swing the door open to see a sheepish Eric standing there. You stare at him for a heartbeat before swinging the door close. ”WAIT!” You sigh and reopen the door slightly. ”I’m giving you a minute to explain yourself.” ”I’m so sorry for last night! I ran into an old fling and we started talking then one thing lead to another…” ”And you left me drunk, by myself in a place I have never been before. Nice one asshole.” You watch Eric cringe at your words and look at the ground in shame. You can tell he hadn’t gone home through out the night since he was wearing the same clothes and he was still slightly drunk since he wobbled where he stood. ”I know. I deserve all the swear words in the world but look I do come with a ‘Im sorry. I’m a dick. Please forgive me.’ gifts.” You hadn’t noticed his hand behind his back until he quickly pulls out a massive takeaway bag, the smell of greasy food finally hitting your nostrils makes your mouth instantly water and you give him a stern look before sighing and opening the door. Walking back into the lounge you sit down on the couch, as Eric follows, plopping down next to you. ”I see one gift..” You point to the greasy bag of food. “..but you said ‘gifts’. Plural. Two.” You watch as Eric quickly wrestles with his front pocket and pulls out your keys that you forgot to grab when you left his house last night. ”Thought you might need these as well.” He plops them on the table. Well that’s not really a gift, If I already own it. ”How did you even get here? You smell like a brewery.” Moving slightly away from him you scrunch up your nose and grab a egg and bacon wrap out of the bag to cover the smell. ”Taxi.. I couldn’t stay at old flings house, she has a overwhelming horse collection…” He reaches in the bag for his food “..Made me wear a cowboy hat last night and click at her like she was a horse and say “Woah” when we were having sex.” You erupt into a coughing/laughter fit at the mental image and shake your head. ”How… you know what I don’t even want to know.” You wave your hand and he smiles before looking at you curiously. ”So.. uh.. how did you get home last night?” You blush slightly and lower your voice. ”..Lars and James.” Eric’s eyebrows raise up and he leans forward to look at you. ”No shit? They brought you home? Wow what are the odds.” You feel a spike of anger and let out a huff. ”Well they wouldn’t of had to take me home, carry my drunk ass up the stairs and put me to bed if you-” You poke him in the arm “-didn’t desert me!” ”Woah wait” Eric rubs his arm “They put you to bed?” Sighing you finish off your food, throwing the wrapper back in the bag and lean back, crossing your arms over your chest before nodding. ”Did Lars carry you or James?” ”James.” ”Damn…. I’m loving the idea of Lars trying to carry you up a flight of stairs.” Rolling your eyes, your mind goes back to last night. You can still slightly smell James on you and shiver at the memory of him his strong, warm arms carrying up the stairs. ”That’s beside the point Eric! I feel horrible that they had to haul me around, probably the last thing they wanted to do plus James was a stone last night as well, Lars was the only one being friendly.” ”I’m sorry.” Eric wraps his arm around you pulling you into a hug. “I promise to never, ever ditch you for a chick again and then you get driven home by two extremely hot rockstars, one you made out with and the other that keeps flirting with you, ever, EVER again.” You laugh and snuggle further into his chest. ”Good. If you do, I’m going to make you neigh and make horse noises for the next month.” ”Oh jesus. You have a deal.”

—————————————————————————————————— Eric stayed around for about an hour before reminding you that dress rehearsal with the symphony was today and rushed off home to get ready. Walking out of a very hot and long shower, you throw open your wardrobe and stand their a bit conflicted. What to wear…What tooo weaar… Zorro sits casually off to the side, his tail slowly twitching from side to side, staring at you and you glance at him before sighing. “There really isn’t any point in dressing up right? Like this a rehearsal after all.” You grab out a pair of old black jeans and a black long sleeve top, throwing your hair up into a high pony tail and quickly put on minimal make-up before double checking that Zorro had some food before grabbing your violin and keys and heading out the door. Rocking up to the rehearsal, you are suddenly fully aware that you are under dressed as you lock your car and watch as a few of the older ladies, in beautiful long evening gowns walk into the building. Taking a deep breathe you quickly walk past some of the older gentlemen in their suits and duck past a few of the stage crew, highly aware that you look like one of them. ”Y/N!” Hearing your name being shouted as you enter on the stage, you glance around the room to see Kamen waving you over. “Hey, I want to say thank you for the other day for taking over for me, you are a life saver! Mick told me you and James helped out heaps through out the day..” You nod quickly, as you had spent the past day trying to bury those memories. “..He told me you had to head off early though, something about not feeling well?” ”Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too hot near the end of the day. Probably too much heavy lifting.” You grab your arm and massage your muscle as he laughs “I knew the guys had done a good job though and trusted that they could get the rest done without my supervision” He nods.

”Feeling alright now though?” You smile at the slight worry that was on his face. ”Feeling 110%” He laughs and you see the worry slip away. Kamen is about to say something else before his name is called out from the other side of the room. He gives you a look before walking over to a bunch the trumpet players who were huddled around looking at some of the music sheets.  Walking over to your spot, you put your violin down and start to turn the sheets of music on the stand to the correct page, before sitting down with a sigh. Why do I feel like the black sheep right now? ”Boo” Eric’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts with a slight fright. ”You ass! You gave me heart attack.” He laughs as you swat at him. ”What do ya think?” Eric slowly turns, showing off his tuxedo to full effect. You let out a whistle. ”Wow, your looking very handsome Eric.” He grins before pointing to you, telling you to stand. Sighing you stand and quickly spin around. A disappointed look appears on his face. ”You look like one of the stage crew, tell me your not wearing this tomorrow night.” Shrugging, he puts his hands on his hips and clicks his tongue. ”Nuh uh. We are totally finding a new outfit for you.” You let a huff. ”What’s the point? It’s not like anyone is going to be paying attention to a little violin girl, hiding all the way up the back. All the attention will be down the front, to Metallica.” ”Yeah ok, the crowd might not be looking at you but he will be” - You follow Eric’s finger to a now entering James and suddenly find it slightly harder to breathe. His hair is slicked back, which wouldn’t last for long as you watch him run his fingers through it and on queue a single curl springs out. The black long sleeve T-shirt fits perfectly to his frame, with the top few buttons undone so you could just see some of his chest. You watch as he walks over to a very nicely dressed Kirk and comfortable looking Jason, your eyes following his black suit pants as they move perfectly with his ass and legs. You can tell that he knew he looked like a million dollars as he stood their laughing at something Kirk said. Your hearing also picks up some chatter next to you, as the flute girls gush and giggle towards James. I’m not the only one effected by this it seems. You swallow hard at the sudden jealousy spiking through you and glance back at Eric, now feeling like a -2 after seeing James 10. ”..I’ll think about it.” You mumble after a heartbeat and he grins. ”That’s my girl.” As Eric walks off to his chair, you notice a flash of white walking through the side doors and see Lars wandering in drinking some tea. His long white sweater and dark pants fitting to him snugly, that you can’t help but smile. At least I’m not the only one wearing something comfortable. You watch as he walks up to his kit and puts his drink down, his eyes roaming around the room to examine all the other people dressed up until they finally fall on you. He smiles widely as he catches you staring back and gives you a quick wink making you laugh. Maybe I should go talk to him and thank him for last night. But before you can do any sort of movement, James decides at that particular moment to stand in front of him, cutting the both you off and making you stare daggers into his back. With a sigh, you sit back in your seat, slightly annoyed at the action and take a deep breath to calm yourself. ”Alright ladies and gentleman, can everyone please take your positions, rehearsal is about to begin.” Kamen’s voice comes over the loudspeakers and you pick up your violin, feeling instantly better as you rest the familiar instrument against your chin. You feel a swell of pride growing through out the rehearsal, the symphony had really tried to perfect each song and by the end of it everyone was letting out a round of applause. “Well done everybody, that sounded brilliant! You all deserved that round of appluse for working so hard over the past weeks.” You can see everybody hum at Kamen’s approval. “Now I would like to talk about opening night tomorrow, I will need everyone to start arriving by at least 4:30 and to have all their instruments tuned and ready to go by 5pm, there will be some people backstage to help with attire and last minute fix ups for you girls.. " He winks and you hear some giggles as he continues".. and we need everyone on stage by 6:30.” You can hear the more excited chatter and poke your tongue out at Eric who’s wiggling his eyebrows at you from across the room. “So everyone, go home, get a good nights sleep. Ill see you tomorrow!” You get up out of your seat as Eric walks over, carrying his cello with him. “Sounded awesome didn’t it?” ”Yes! Tomorrow night is going to be awesome.” The both of you start to walk towards the exit when Lars comes jogging over, wrapped once again in his fluffy purple robe.

”Hey you two, you guys excited for tomorrow night?” The both of you smile and nod. ”It’s going to be awesome Lars, I can’t wait.” He smiles at your comment and run’s a hand through his sweaty hair. It’s at this moment you take the opportunity to thank him for the previous night. ”Ahh that was no big deal, isn’t the first time I’ve put a drunk girl to bed and most certainly won’t be the last.” He winks at you and you hear Eric snort behind you. “At least you didn’t throw up in the Car, James probably would of murdered you but I will say woman you need a better hiding spot for your spare key. I mean anyone could break in.” ”That’s what I keep telling her as well!” Eric pokes you in the back and you throw your hands up in defeat. ”Fine, I’ll find a better spot for it if it’ll get you guys off my ass.” Lars nods approvingly before a scowl appears on his face ”Also you-” You move out of the way as Lars is now pointing directly at Eric “-Don’t ditch her, drunk ever again or I’ll send him-” He points to James who you hadn’t noticed was watching the conversation and you catch him quickly glance away as the three of you turn to look at him. “- to have some ‘words’ with you.” ”Y..yes sir.” Eric looks down, slightly red and Lars nods confident that Eric wouldn’t do it again before smiling back at you. ”Alright Violin girl, now that we have that sorted, I have to head off since I’ve got a meeting in-” He looks over to the clock on the wall and pales slightly “- 5 minutes. Fuck.” You can’t help but laugh as he quickly rushes over to his kit, picking up a few items before, hurriedly walking past you. ”Bye Lars!” You wave slightly and then cringe as you watch as him almost collide straight into one of the stage crew and rush out the door. ”Don’t worry about him.” You jump at James voice and turn to see him standing there nonchalant. “He has a tendency to turn into a ball of energy when he forgets things.” ”Yeah, he seems like the type.” You smile shyly. The three of you stand there awkwardly and you suddenly find James shoes to be the most attractive thing in the world. Geez, what are they designer? I beat a pair of his shoes would be able to pay my rent for a few months. ”Well!” Eric claps his hands, making both of you jump and stare at him. “This is awkward, I’m out. Bye.” You open you mouth in shock as Eric picks up his Cello and hurriedly walks off in the same direction Lars did. A nervous laugh escapes your lips and you turn to see James still slighty in shock, shaking his head. ”Don’t worry about him.” You echo the same thing James said. “He has a tendency to turn into a ball of energy when he’s nervous.” James laughs at the comment and you can feel yourself blush at the sight of him looking so happy. Oh how I wish the other day didn’t happen and we can act normalish once again. He notices the almost sad look on your face and turns slightly serious. He stares at you and you can see some nervousness behind his bright blue eyes, like he’s trying to decide something. You only see it for a moment though before he sighs and shakes his head, once again running his hand through his now sweaty hair. ”…I better be going as well. I’ll uh.. see you tomorrow ok?” You watch as he walks off, not looking back at you as he disappears around the corner  ”Yeah. See you later too James.”

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[roughingitwithcal]

Not Safe: Part Two (C.H)

warnings: religion??, cussing, not very gentleman-ly calum, cheating

a.n: here it is! not as good(and long) as i expected it to be but i needed to upload something lollolololl... 

Sundays were the worst. Yes, because of church. Yes, because of school the next day. Yes, because it was Sunday. Normally church would last like 3 hours, 4 hours maximum? No. This town went all out. This town would have church in the morning from 9:30-12:30, go home to get a good little rest, maybe a little early lunch, late brunches, and then come back to church at 4:00-7:00 for evening prayer and “fun games”. Normally some teens would skip the evening session but then they’d have to go to this praying thing on Monday to make up for the time lost on that evening, depending on how chill your parents were. Some usually still had to go. There was no escaping God in this town.

It was morning prayer and here she is again, not in any juvenile band garb but in a nice frilly sundress that was threatening the topple to the ground with how thin those spaghetti straps were. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail but multiple baby hairs managed the poke out from the tens of bobby pins jammed in her hair. Her feet was already starting to hurt from the high wedges that made her look tall and presentable and not at all a slut, at least that's what her mother stated when she bought her the shoes. She straightened out the dress while staring at herself in the mirror, letting out an exhausted sigh. She looked to meet her own eyes and furrowed her eyebrows. What would it look like if she had a lot of makeup on? Like highlighter, bronzer, deep red lipstick? What if she looked like the gorgeous, curvy, promiscuous women that went to her school? “Y/N!” her mom’s frilly voice yelled from the bottom of the stairs. She caught herself rolling her eyes and still continued to roll them all the way and let out another defeated sigh. She grabbed her fancy, flowery, $120 wristlet that yes, her boyfriend bought her, and journeyed her way down the mahogany steps to meet her family already dressed up in their fancy church clothes, her mother and sister fixing their necklaces in the mirror besides the door and her brother and father fixing each other’s bowties. Her eyes met her mother’s who admired, but secretly judged, her as she made her way down slowly.

“You look beautiful, darling,” her father said, fixing the cufflinks on his blazer. She joined the rest of her family at the bottom of the steps and quickly checked the notifications that suddenly started to blow up her phone. All of them was from Dara. Her eyebrows furrowed and after giving her parents a quick “i’ll be back” glance, she stepped into the kitchen to quickly ring her friend.

“Whatever this is, can you—“

“Do not go to church today!” Dara screamed, interrupting whatever she was going to say. By the loud crunching of potato chips on the other line, Dara was probably laying on the couch, catching up on some dumb reality show.

“What are you talking about?”

“Calum Hood is gonna be at the church today!” Dara screamed, the phone picking up the small cracks in her voice and the rustling of her sleeve against the mic. Calum Hood is going to church? He knows what a church is?

“How do you know this?” Y/N asked suspiciously, turning to see her family impatiently wait for her. She shook her head and quickly made her way to the car, making sure the volume was low.

“It's a long story but, Jordan asked if they could grab brunch, aka blow him from behind the school, and he said no to her, saying that he was gonna go to church today!”

“Since when does he come to church?”

“Probably after the little encounter you two had on my porch Friday night.” She could see her smug face already. Sure, their little encounter they had was…something. It was a slight touch to the cheek. A whisper in the ear. But that couldn’t have possibly encouraged him to get up and walk into church. The last time Calum Hood was seen somewhere religious, he was probably 13 and he had put out a cigarette in the holy water well that sat at the front of the church.

“Well I doubt I’ll see him. Hanging with Tyler, remember?”

“Of course. The town star!” She chuckled at the end and Y/N let out a breathy laugh herself, making her mother turn around in her seat, giving her not a disapproving look, but a look that says “get off the phone and spend time with your family.”

“I gotta let you go. I’ll talk to you after,” and Y/N quickly hung up her phone before Dara could let in a "goodbye". A couple seconds before she put her phone down, her phone received a text message and picking up, she saw the text notification from her brother.

Hanging? Or banging?

The church parking lot was full of dressed up families that come mainly just to show off their new Lamborghinis and Porsches. Friends come up to each other and they take their regular photos near the doors of the church where the red door was pure “aesthetic”. Men shout across the roads about their day and how intense the game was last night and moms get together to show off their kids and whatever new avant-garde jewelry they bought that they obviously don’t need. It was like this everyday. Everyone in this God-loving town got together and they start to tell each other things that they could say to each other on the other days, but Sundays just has to be the only day where they could talk about it. Boring, right? It was.

Y/N and her family stepped out of the family car and was immediately greeted by friends and some elderly people who have known their parents, or her grandparents. Her and her family were fairly popular in this town, considering the fact that her dad was the pastor of this church. He was loved and adored by everyone. He never got on anyone’s bad side and if everybody loved him, they obviously loved his family. She stands by the car as she watches her family ditch her and meet up with friends and neighbors. She watches her dad hurry into the old brick building with ten other elderly men chasing him at his feet as they rush to get the reception going. She watches her mom laugh as she shows off her little sister and the backflips she could do, making the other kids and their parents jealous. She watches her older brother meet with his football pals and they yell and laugh and clap hands and were just being annoying as usual. What a family. She leaned her head against the car and shut her eyes, feeling the bright sun brush her skin and the subtle flows of wind that came every few minutes. She let out a sigh and she was so distracted by the feeling of nature, she didn’t feel the car give a subtle shake and the presence that accompanied her.

“You look like you’re having fun,” a sly voice chuckled, making her jump and straighten her posture. When she whipped her head around, she met the brown eyes of Calum Hood, his mouth cigarette-free and his body not covered up in his rocker garb. He was now dressed in a white button up and black skinny jeans, accompanied with a black tie. He could have at least combed his hair.

“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, pushing off from the car, looking around her shoulder to see if anyone found her interacting with the town's biggest disappointment.

“What? I can’t,” he placed a pair of dark sunglasses on top of his nose and pointed his head towards the church in front of him, people starting to pile in, “go to church or something?”

“You don’t go to church.” She could feel her hands getting sweatier again. Why does this keep happening? She grabbed the pastel pink cardigan that was draped around her shoulders and wrapped it around herself, suddenly feeling insecure.

“You get to decide that?” His lips formed a smirk, as his hand reaches to her arm to pluck a piece of lint off the fabric. She could feel the warmth in his hands through the cloth, as his fingertips lightly grazed her arm. The feeling was replaced as she felt a strong hand wrap around her waist and pull her body into a warm, almost hot, and buff body.

"You ready to go, sweetheart?" She heard Tyler's voice whisper into her ear as he jolted to her side. She didn't meet his eyes but she nodded and turned her head away from Calum. She started to walk but she didn't feel Tyler move. She felt his hand tighten around her hip and pull her closer, almost as if he was about to enclose her in a cage made of his arms.

"How you doing, Hood?" Tyler remarked, his head nodding towards Calum as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. Calum chuckled as he watched Tyler wrap his arms around her like a boy grasping a teddy bear and he chuckled and shook his head as he watched her try her best not to make any eye contact.

"Never been better." He lifted himself off the car and turned around, walking off in the opposite way, his chuckles still heard within ear shot as he chucked a toothpick into the freshly mown grass.

The light practically burned her eyes as she walked out of the church, the bright light she hasn't seen in 3 hours making her cold skin tremble and shudder. The reception was still going on but she quickly excused herself when her head started to feel heavy and dizzy. It was best to just step outside and get fresh air before she had to spend another 1-2 hours hearing about how we are sheep and how God is the sheepherder. She slowly made her way down the steps and turned around the banister of the stairs and leaned her body against the wall that was built to make the stairs more pleasing. Her feet were hurting, her head was pounding, and this dress was making it impossible to lift her arms or else the straps would snap and the entire town would get a glimpse. Her eyes closed as the wind finally started to pick up and she felt almost relaxed until a shadow blocked the sun from her view. Although it was comforting, she wanted to see who or what was large enough to cover the sun and when she opened her eyes, she saw the last thing she ever wanted to see.

"Looks like ya missed me," he chuckled, his teeth chewing at the black lip ring. Was that there before? He was back in his normal getup; a black Led Zeppelin shirt with torn jeans and Converse. God forbid anyone that takes a glance at him.

"Yes. I crave you every second of every day," she rolls her eyes and tilts her head the other way, squinting to block her vision from the blinding sun. She can hear the chuckles that echo in his throat as he leaned against the wall with her, their arms barely touching. She quickly crossed her arms against her figure, not even caring that the strap of her dress dared to fall off her shoulder.

"God, you're a fucking sight," he whispers through his teeth. She quickly spins to meet his eye, not surprised at the fact that he used God's name in vain, but the fact he had the audacity to say something like that to her. He smirked at her reaction and subtlety nodded his head, chuckling as he turned from her eyes.

"Why are you following me?" She admitted, pushing off the wall to face him, trying to get his attention. He smirks and he turns to meet her eyes, the only noise between them was the sound of their breathing and the rustling of the leaves of the trees beside them. He couldn’t help but gaze at how incredibly sexy she was, how she was trying to show off how fucking innocent she is when really inside, he could tell she was craving for something deeper than good boy Tyler Gibbs. His bottom lip makes its way in between his teeth, sucking in a deep breath before speaking up.

“Maybe I can’t get enough of you,” he sighs, straightening his posture so that he towered over her. She was taken back at how much taller he suddenly was that she didn’t even notice he had stepped up to her, the top of their shoes barely touching. His hand moves to her shoulder and the warmth that radiates off his tattooed hand gives her goosebumps all the way down to her toes. He slips his fingers underneath the small white spaghetti strap and he gazes up at her, practically feeling how turned on she was.

Jesus what was this feeling? Her stomach started to bubble and her arms felt useless, like she couldn’t even lift up a finger from where she crosses her arms across her chest. Her breathing became louder and quicker as his hands slightly grazed her shoulder as he lifted the spaghetti strap to readjust it.

“Wouldn’t want the town to see what is mine,” he whispers into her ear, his lips grazing the edge and his fingers delicately drawing patterns into her tense shoulder. What’s his? She was taken out of her lustful trance and pushed him back into the brick wall, scoffing at his delinquent behavior.

“I am not yours, asshole,” she angrily muttered, straightening her dress before making her way back to the church. He had the audacity to call her his? He was nothing but a rude fuckboy who doesn’t know how to stop. Angry thoughts that God and her parents wouldn’t approve of ran through her head. Asshole, fucker, fucktard, shit head, nuisance —

“But you’re fine with being Tyler’s?” He yelled after her, not moving from where he was, his shoulder a little sore from where she pushed him. He chuckled at how she slowly turned around and glared at him.

“I am not anyone’s property. I am not yours, Tyler’s, anybody’s.”

“He treats you as though you are his property,” he says, clearing his throat, sticking a toothpick in between his teeth.

“Why do you think you have the right to stick your nose into other people’s business?” She was in front of him again, but this time she glared at him with the darkest death stare, her finger poking at his chest. It was soft and hard at the same time. He snickered at her and shook his head, leaning against the concrete wall as she came along with him, her finger digging deeper in his chest.

“He holds you like no one else is allowed to touch you, yet he hasn’t touched you himself,” his hands now rest in his jean pockets, “he speaks to you as if you were a dog ready for a command to get your treat, but you never get it. And,” he takes in a deep breath and drops his head, giggling to himself. Jesus, what was this kid on? Why is everything so funny to him? “and you’re oblivious to the fact that he has already had sex.”

Her finger drops to her side, her eyebrows furrowing at the last statement Calum made about Tyler. What was he talking about? His smirk grows, his eyes hooded, feeling the weed from the joint he smoked earlier starting to settle in. God, she is so fucking beautiful and so perfectly naive.

She could see the redness around his eyes and the smile that started to grow like he was about to giggle again. Of course. He’s high. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying.

“You need help,” she mutters, shaking her head. When she is about to turn to make her way back into the church to meet her family who is probably worried about her, or not, who knows, he grabs her wrist and turns her back to meet him, but he pulls her into his chest so she was practically laying against him. Their hips aligned perfectly with each other and the slight graze of her ass that came from his hand sent shivers up her spine.

“You don’t believe me?” he mutters, almost as if he was saddened by her disapproval. She tried her best to fight her way out of his arms but he was definitely not letting go.

“You’re high, Calum, let me go.” She tried her best to wiggle her arms out from where they were squished by both of their chest, but he wasn’t budging. He wouldn’t let her go.

“Tyler Gibbs,” he chuckled at the name, his eyes trying to meet yours, “is just as big as a fuckboy as I am, darling.” She stops struggling as her eyes met his big brown ones, decorated with red alongside the edges. What the fuck was he talking about? Why can’t he just spit it out? He notices the confusion in her face and hold her tighter, afraid that he what he was about to say next would scare her off. She was probably already scared but this feeling of her rubbing up against his crotch, centimeters away from touching each other, just made him go crazy and he couldn’t let her go.

“A week ago,” he stutters, “Tyler Gibbs walks into this party one of my friend’s were throwing. Completely threw us on our asses that the town good boy and a bunch of his friends were looking for some fun from us. He walks through the crowd, already drunk, and he just straight up, grabs a girl from out of town and starts to rub himself on her. God, the way he just rubbed up on her ass, the way his eyes hooded over—“

“Stop it,” she demanded. Okay now she was getting upset. Not really sure at who or what. At Calum, because he was probably lying. At Calum again because he let Tyler do that. At Tyler, because he did what he did. At herself, being so stupid to save herself for a guy that didn’t care about her. Her arms came up to push off of Calum but his grip continued to get tighter, enclosing her and holding her tighter as she struggled off of him.

“And then he took her to a nearby closet and that’s where you could hear,” he pauses, his voice entirely calm as he held Y/N against him, not even caring that she was probably bruising him from her punches, “precious town good boy, Tyler Gibbs, rip off this girl’s dress and the moans—“ She slapped him. She had finally managed to wiggle her arm out from the grip and slapped him on his cheek, making him shut the fuck up. He completely let go of her and she stumbled back on her feet, her eyes beginning to tear. His gaze turned angry and annoyed and right when he was about to call her rude names to intentionally hurt her, his eyes turned soft, his angry figure softening as he saw tears start to form in her now red eyes, her body shaking from either the truth or the fact that he literally held her against her will. What the fuck was wrong with him? He would never touch a girl like this, so when he realized he just did, he mentally slapped himself in the face.

“Go to hell,” she spat at him, quickly fixing her dress before dashing up the stairs, back into the large church.

Calum was completely sobers up at this point. Normally, he would shrug of those kinds of comments; “go to hell”, “asshole”, etc. But today, when she muttered those words back to him, he felt a pang of hurt in his stomach. Like someone had just punched him square in the gut, and trust me, he knew exactly what that felt like. He looked around and nobody was to be seen. No one saw that the town bad boy was just slapped by the town good girl. No one saw that he held the town good girl against his will and made her cry. He cleared his throat and went on his way, ignoring the flutter in his stomach that was aching for him to turn the fuck around.

[halloweeniegal]

Music Brings People Closer

Namjoon X Reader

(IDEK WHAT THIS SHIT TITLE IS SO SORRY)

                                            ~~~

(I made it to where reader speaks Korean because that’s what he’s most fluent in so she talks in it to be polite to him ig? Idk lol. Enjoy anon.)

                                                   ~~~

“I think LA is going to be fun. Imagine how many music shops they have there,” Namjoon spoke while looking at his phone, Hoseok basically bouncing beside him. All of BTS were headed for LA to continue their ongoing tour, and everyone was excited. Even you who was already all the way in LA and completely prepared to go to their concert.

“I’m excited too, what do you think we’re gonna do there?!” J-Hope asked excitedly, causing small smiles to spread across the other members faces.

“I don’t know just hangout I think, visit random sights you know,” Namjoon responded, locking his phone as he turned to look at his hyung.

“It’s going to be so fun!” Jungkook exclaimed happily, looking out of the van window as they moved along the streets of LA, slowly approaching their destination.

“Wonder where we’re going to be staying?” Taehyung pondered, looking out his window in awe at the scenery.

“I'm hopefully staying nowhere near you guys,” Yoongi joked, yawning tiredly, just being awoken by Jimin. A chorus of giggles surrounded the inside of the van as they screeched to a stop in front of a grand hotel.

It was fairly sunny out today, so you were sitting outside on a chair in the middle of your lawn with sunglasses covering your eyes. Your hand fanned slowly in weak attempts at cooling yourself down as you carefully watched the oncoming traffic. Despite the heat pouring down on your hot skin, you were filled to the brim with excitement.

Today, you were going to see BTS in concert. You had been a fan for a while and the minute you found out they were coming to your state you bought a ticket the second they were on sale. Every time you thought of it butterflies exploded in your tummy, proving how nervous and happy you were about it.

The boys dragged their suitcases up the stairs tiredly in attempts to reach their room quickly and sleep the day away. Half of their morning and all night they were stuck on a plane and it would be a lie to say they weren't jet lagged from all the air travel.

Despite the weary aura the rest of the boys were giving off, Namjoon was unusually bursting with energy and was excited to explore. Asking the rest of BTS to join him, he was quickly declined as he moved outside.

A couple hours into his explorations he happened upon you, close to sleep as you now lie on the grass. Your sunglasses lay carefully next to you and your arm was slung over your eyes instead. Regardless of your comfy position, your head lifted to look at the culprit of the crunching grass coming closer to you.

Namjoon now towered over you, not helping how small you began to feel in his presence. You blinked carefully, the sun momentarily blinding you.

“Can you tell me the way to the record shop?” You knew that voice; even if it was really broken English. His name was right at the tip of your tongue until you could clearly see him, allowing his name to finally echo silently through your brain.

“Namjoon? Oh my, you're Namjoon from BTS. I'm a huge fan of yours and BTS’ music.” You smiled, happy you had learned how to speak Korean long ago as you stood up to appropriately talk to him. “Don't worry I'm not a sasaeng.” A delightful laugh left Namjoon’s mouth causing your smile to grow as he held his hand out for a handshake.

“That would be me, and what is your name?”

“(Y/N),” you smiled once again before turning to the sidewalk in hopes that Namjoon would follow. There was something intriguing about you that kept pulling RapMon towards you, so he was in tow as you began walking down the sidewalks of your neighborhood in synchronized steps.

“So, why did you decide to live in LA?” Namjoon randomly questioned, causing you to turn and look at him in bewilderment for a moment.

“Well, I’m a musician and I figured I’d have more luck getting somewhere if I lived here I guess? I’m not too sure.” An awkward laugh escaped your throat as you continued walking.

“You’re a musician? What kind of music do you make?”

“All kinds,” you grinned at him, turning to look at your feet as they dragged across the cement afterwards.

“I know you enjoy books so I figured I could use that as a conversation.” After a few minutes of comfortable silence you had finally conjured a topic to converse about with this Kpop idol named Namjoon that you were lucky to meet.

“Yeah, I enjoy reading in my spare time. It’s quite enjoyable,” he responded, sending you the dimpled smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. You guys delved deep into a conversation about books and authors you both enjoyed.

“You said you were looking for the record shop, right?” You stopped in your tracks as you finally reached the record shop he was asking about earlier, saddened to end your time with him.

“Yes,” he informed, looking at the small shop in awe as if it was the best thing he’s seen in awhile. And it was, except for you of course, you were on top of his list of the most beautiful things he’s seen in LA. “Why don’t you come in and give me some recommendations on music?” His offer was strictly in attempts to extend the time you both had together; not that he didn’t mind getting recommendations on music.

“Sure,” your voice was sheepish as you entered the store, Namjoon holding the door open for you like the gentleman he was. Both pairs of attentive eyes scanned the surrounding records carefully, in search of one’s you would both enjoy.

“Hm this is a really good one, I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to this on repeat.” You held up (A/N), showing Namjoon one of your favorite albums to listen to. “The composer is really good at what he does, and the bass in some of the songs throws me away every time,” you said with a small giggle as you read the back of the case. Namjoon’s eyes were looking at you in adoration as you giggled and showed off albums without a care. He felt so lucky to meet you while he was here, that he didn’t want to let you go.

“You should come backstage during our concert tonight,” he randomly blurted, causing your orbs to shoot up to look at him in surprise.

“I mean if you really want me to, but I don’t want to burden you guys.” Your voice was music to RapMon’s ears, and he wanted to relish in it for a long time.

“It’s not a burden. I wouldn’t be asking if it was,” Namjoon pointed out, causing a look of stupidity to cross your features.

“Duh, I should’ve known that.” You rolled your eyes at yourself as you placed the album back on the shelf, smiling up once again at Namjoon.

“Why don’t you just come hang out with us until the concert?” Namjoon’s brow was raised at you in question, hoping that you would say yes. Meanwhile you were in complete awe at the offer he had composed to you.

“A-Are you sure?” You had felt so lucky, that you pinched yourself, worried that this might just be a dream. How could someone like you, a small musician who is struggling to pull through in the industry, be noticed by someone like him, a musician that’s known and loved worldwide? Namjoon nodded quickly at you before grabbing your wrist and pulling you back outside, hailing a taxi so you both could put your legs to rest.

The concert had finally began and all you could hear was the sounds of screaming fans as one of your favorite bands performed. You were completely flattered at the fact that Namjoon kept turning towards the backstage to wink, smile, or blow a playful kiss at you during their songs. The boys had completely welcomed you when you hung out with them today, and you were completely grateful.

All of the boys quickly made their way backstage, sweat dripping quickly down their foreheads causing their skin to glisten in the light. It was hard for you to look away from Namjoon’s now see through white shirt, completely drenched in sweat from dancing his heart out.

You began spacing off until you were pulled into a tight hug and spun throughout the air, your hair whipping softly against whoever it was that had a hold of you.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself,” Namjoon’s dimpled smile was back as he once again towered over you. It was effortless to get lost in each others eyes, completely ignoring the ruckus going on around you. That was until hands connected with the back of both of your heads and pushed you both together in an unexpected kiss.

You swatted at the hand at the back of your head, face crimson red with embarrassment as you turned to glare at Hoseok, the culprit of the unwanted action.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just Hoseok-” you blabbered before you were cut off by his lips again, but it wasn’t forced this time. Hoseok was bouncing happily beside you both, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he brought this on. Your eyes slowly fluttered close as your arms were pulled by Hoseok to wrap around Namjoon’s neck. You internally rolled your eyes but ignored him as you lost yourself in the kiss, wanting it to last forever.

“It’s fine,” you both were breathless as you pulled away, Namjoon finally responding to your rant from earlier. “I enjoy your lips against mine,” his cheeks were a light pink as he stared at you with a large grin. “Say, can I get your number? I would love to take you on a date sometime,” Namjoon questioned. You quickly nodded your head, tugging your phone out of your pocket and handing it to him so he could enter his number into your contacts. When he gave you it back, you glanced down seeing ‘Your Fave’ as his name with a kissy and heart eye emoji. You giggled quietly before texting him so he would have your number as well.

You bid your farewells before leaving the venue, smiling idiotically as you made your way home, excited to see where this thing between you and Namjoon would lead.

[wildflowerfiction77]

Tales of Scarcity: Fiction 2

Hunters of the Supernatural

 Written by Daniel Vera

 Characters created by Ruben Vera

in Tales of Scarcity

 Chapter One

El Dia de Corazon 

 Some things he remembers clearly.   Like the day his brother said, “They were after you.”  Alfonso Cesar Cortez was a College Professor at the State University.  He was teaching full time in Ancient Civilizations. He was going on ten years of teaching there at the age of 38.  It was a long trek.  He never in his wildest dreams would have believed anything that was happening in his current life would be possible.  He never believed in the supernatural.    

First off, everyone he knows thinks he is crazy, paranoid or on drugs.  A few of 

them are trying to kill him.  And some of them are possessed.  His ex-wife and his 10 year old son are amongst them.  But that is a little later in the story.  It all started when he found a pair of sunglasses at the used book store in Egypt when on vacation with his then wife, Susan Evans, a famous romantic novelist.  He had purchased them, though it seemed like someone had left them there and the store owner gladly took the money.  They were a peculiar type glass, almost like a quartz or ruby crystal.  His eyes were bothering him, and the glasses seemed to clear his vision.  

They did have a changing tint to them.  Sometimes reddish, sometimes gold and sometimes aqua green.  They visited an ancient church in the desert, and along with some of the locals, they were baptized.  They weren’t religious, so they did it for the experience.  But something had happened.  He was able to see beyond people’s persona. He started seeing beyond their physical selves and into their inner selves.  At first he thought he heard some distant conversations, but no one else was there, it was the inner conversation of the people around him, but blurry.  He began to have premonitions, like a sixth sense.  He thought it must have been the food or the water.

When they returned to the States, it slowed down.  But every once in a while, he would see movement when things weren’t there.  He finally blamed it on the glasses.  He put them in storage and never thought twice, it was some side effects of the substance of the lenses.  His wife had finished her newest book and announced she was pregnant.  Alfonso was ecstatic.  He had just received his Masters and had an opportunity to teach part time at the University.  He was sure he would get a full time position as soon as it opened up and they were doing alright financially.  Again, life gave him another twist of fate, and he found out Susan was having an affair with her Agent around the first year of their son, Josephs birth.  

He couldn’t feel to bad, because he was spending a lot of time with a female co-worker at the college.  Andromeda Romanos Vitalis, a Greek clerical secretary in the Admissions department.  Soon after they developed a steamy relationship.  They were doing well until some bad luck bestowed her family in Greece and she had to move back.  They saw each other off and on, but they ultimately decided to end it after a while.  During this time, Susan and Alfonso began fighting more about domestic issues and money.  She had ran through a few different relationships.  The affair with her Agent didn’t last, he liked strip clubs in the city.  Her tennis instructor was a summer fling.  She was seeing a professional boxer at one point.  She decided to live out her books instead of writing them.  She had a vodka and powder habit for a moment, but she seemed to kick them when she married a Doctor.  Dr. Michael O’Hara.  It couldn’t have been written more cliche.  

The ten years quickly passed and Alfonso got the full time position and started to settle into his career.  Amongst dating some of his well bestowed female students every so often, and frequenting the singles bars, he was a decent father.  During that time, he did delve into his studying.  He tried to travel as much as possible, at first to meet with Andromeda, then to other locations that had meaning in Ancient History.  He started to fancy whiskey and cigars along with guns and other weapons he found through his travels.  He became pretty good at hand to hand combat and would use that to clear his mind and zero him out.  That was until he found out that he had blundered into an Ancient Curse, in the same book store he had visited 10 years prior.  This is where the story begins, that to one that is involved, it does not seems real.  

 Chapter Two

El Muerto Vivo

 Alfonso at the time of his 38th birthday completed his work day like any other day.  He woke up in the morning to a strong cup of freshly ground coffee brewing by a girl he met at the uptown singles bar a few weeks ago, Sharen; a redhead that liked to play ruff in the bed.  It was good for his cardio.  She was wearing his dress shirt and nothing else. She had the body of a dancer.  The relationship was purely physical, and they used up the morning proving it.  

Grabbing a quick hot pocket, he rushed out of his apartment to pick up his son for school, as his son had a field trip to go to.  Alfonso had bought him a special phone watch that had just hit the market.  It had all the gadgets technology could afford.  He picked him up at his mother’s place.  Susan answers the door in her work out clothes.  She always gives a condescending smirk when greeting him, just before she uses her full form and enchantress ways to play the seductress role that they both partake.  In her best Marilyn Monroe, which is pretty damn good, she sings him happy birthday.  

Joseph runs out and is ready for the school field trip to the state capital.  He is oblivious to anything but his new shoes and hat.  He runs past them and gets in the car, calling for his father to hurry up.  He wants to be early.  After a long hug from his ex, he drives the Camero to exceeding speeds and gets to the school early like requested.  Before the young boy ventures out, his father gives him the new watch.  He tries to explain what the watch is, but Joseph says he already knows and thanks his dad before running off.  

Alfonso gets to his school a little late, like the whole semester he has been.  He runs into his boss on the way up the stairs to his 11 am class. He swears they must be following him.  Dr. Mick Clooney, a towering figure always dressed in as much black as he can.  He must only own black suits and ties.  His accent says he’s from South Africa, but he’s been in the U.S. for quite some time.  A blond haired, blue eyed man, most likely a descendant from Germany, around 6’3, 230 pounds.  He wonders how this man even got into this profession.  He looks like he should be a retired MMA fighter that can still fight.  At every faculty function, he just stands there answering any in coming questions and usually sipping a hot tea.  He never is the first one to initiate an interaction unless job related, usually to reprimand.  They started working at the college around the same time.  He was promoted around 5 years ago to Dean of the History Department.  The previous Dean had passed away in a car accident.  He was an older gentleman, Dr. Henry Shoemaker.  He was the person who encouraged Alfonso to apply for the job. 

 Dr. Clooney says to Alfonso, “Are you late again Mr. Cortez?”

 Alfonso replies, “It’s my birthday, I got caught up in traffic.”

 Dr. Clooney ends the conversation with, “See me in my office after you finish your class.”

 “Shit, and my day started to good.”  He thinks to himself as he walks into a classroom full of 35 students waiting to pass a class they don’t want to take, but are required to.  He unclips his briefcase with a thumb-drive that has the years lectures safely saved from prying eyes.  The computer gives him problems once again.  It’s a persistent bug that has plagued the semester.  He improvises instead for the hour on the South American Amazon and how the idea of Wonder Woman fits into the lost mythology; ancient civilizations, got to love it. 

In front of the class for the whole semester, sits one the most gorgeous 21 year old woman he has ever seen.  There seems to be one every year.  Most years he has been able to fend them off either by indifference or keeping busy.  They usually seem to be persistent, and very persuasive,  running into him around town, or at social functions.  This year, Misha Michelle, a brunette with green eyes, a sharp tongue and a sure double for Megan Fox, with the body of Salma Hayek, likes to stay after class and ask questions.  Normally he answers and does office work, but he ran into her a few weeks ago at an ice cream shop after a night out at the bars, and they had a moment in the bathroom.  Since then, he has found it hard to look away when she wears mini skirts and loose tank tops.  She gives him a birthday present after class in a broom closet no one frequents. 

He quickly finds himself on the way to the Deans office.  In transit he runs into a few co workers.  Standing at the secretary’s desk is his long time rival, Jason Burgs, a fellow Historian. Jason and Alfonso met a few years ago when Mr. Burgs was hired as an Art History professor.  Turns out he is qualified to take Alfonso’s job as well.  He seems to be around when things are not going well for Alfonso.  The bald head, bearded man, gives him a tip of the hat of his fedora as they pass by each other.  Alfonso would quickly beat the tar out this skinny man if he would not lose his job over it.  

 Chapter Three

Lamentum por el Fin

 Alfonso is on a plane to Egypt.  It is three months later from when he walked into the office.  Dean McClooney had been waiting for him.  The conversation started very cold and ended somewhere in the Arctic.  He still doesn’t quite understand what McClooney was hinting at.  He goes through it in his head as he sits in coach.  He was reprimanded for a poor semester performance.  There were issues on his lack of enthusiasm, preparation, and not following the syllabus.  His long rants on subjects of the supernatural and folklore of Ancient Civilizations had began worrying his co-workers and students.  For the life of him, he didn’t know which ones, other than Burgs and a couple of other rambunctious ego driven student; he fails to recall their names. So they agreed to a one year, paid leave hiatus.  

So Alfonso decided to make a five week vacation to Egypt to finish a paper he started.  More importantly though, to find the shop in which he first picked up the glasses that sparked his interest in the unknown.  The summer before his last semester at the University, he found the pair of glasses on his kitchen table.  He figured his son had discovered them while burrowing to find some materials for his school projects in the attic.  As memorabilia, he decided to wear them every so often.  The girl he was seeing at the time seemed to like them.  She was into retro culture.  He actually thought they were pretty cool.  He was going through his midlife crises.  He started noticing more symbols than normal in advertisements, movies and mass media in general that pertained to ancient folklore than normal.  It was a new wave of glorification for some pretty dark histories and cults.  He also started seeing them in city mason buildings.  He knew it was a dangerous subject, so he tried to unsee them.  

Then he started noticing his dreams were being invaded by an outside source.  They started to veer towards subject matter that was abnormal to his normal train of thoughts.  Strangers would look at him with recognition, and often be holding those symbols he saw in the media, and now in his dreams.  It wasn’t long before his acquaintances would bring up weird subjects, as well as his students and family, like dark matter and time traveling.  They started questioning him about his personal life and even his intimate life.  He was sure they were watching him on video survey-lance in his bedroom, car and even bathroom.  He started losing money in the stock market, in which he usually did quite well.  Everything took a serious turn on him, and he thought these glasses might have something to do with it, especially when he started to notice a change in Susan and Joseph.

As he slept on the plane, he again started to have an unfamiliar dream.  It was a forced projection of an underground city.  The city was abandoned and underwater.  He was looking for gold treasure.  He was able to breathe underwater and move almost like normal, dressed in a business suit.  He started noticing the sea life as he was digging and moving old cars and T.V.’s.  At first, they were sea horses and clown fish, turtles and dolphins.  Then the dream became more aggressive, with sharks and octopuses swimming around him.  He didn’t panic, but rather kept digging and moving man made objects out of the way.  Soon he found a golden crown with jewels from around the world inside of a treasure chest of gold.  The last thing he remembers is a vast amount of piranhas that began to eat the sharks.  Then he woke up.  

He had landed and found himself in Egypt.  He made his way through the city as he took in the sights.  It was still vaguely familiar.  He remembered the heat as the taxi sat in traffic.  It seems he found the taxi with no air conditioner.  He cracks open the wind in hopes there is a breeze.  A boy shows up and speaking broken English, shows him a basket of Egypt memorabilia.  Included are buttons, flags, key chains, maps, travel guides and toy robots.  The robots are programmed with three patriotic saying from Egypt, about the size of a palm.  He decided to go with a travel guide, just to have something to mark in as he makes his way to the shop he was anxious to find again.  

They finally make it to the Hotel.  Famished and jet lagged, he decides to check in and clean up, before ordering room service and taking a nap.  When he wakes up, it is around midnight in Egypt.  He decides to start working on his paper on Carl Yung.  It started off being a dissertation on the connection of the pyramids and dreams.  He’s been working on it for a while.  

 Chapter Four

La Dama

 Noon, he arrives at the shop.  To his surprise, it is exactly how he remembers.  It’s as if nothing had changed.  The little old man behind the counter was now missing.  The smell of incense fills the air as the low light of candles and sunlight through drapes reveal the many treasures on the shelves.  Books, jewelry, small statues made of multiple precious materials, dolls, intricate boxes of craftsmanship, tapestry’s, and crystals fill most of the store.  He doesn’t remember it having so many highly expensive commodities.  

A woman’s voice pierces the low cultural music’s atmosphere.  She is a tall, slender Egyptian beauty unrivaled by any woman he has ever seen.  Her slow movement and warm honey voice asks if she can help him in her native tongue.  She wears a gown of royalty and the jewelry to match.  He is astonished that she would be in such an occupation in such a hidden place.  He hesitates to answer, forgetting what he came to do.  She smiles and speaks in English, asking the same question.  Somehow that breaks his spell, and he quickly fumbles a response.  He greets her and complements her on her beauty and her shop.  She responds humbly. 

He then begins to speak in Egyptian, and asks about the old man, and tells her the story of when he was last in the shop.  Her gaze seems to penetrate into his mind.  Uneasy, his level of breathing begins to heighten and he accidentally bumps into a relic with his elbow as he was reaching for the glasses to show her.  A vase falls, breaking their connection.  A man, seemingly from no where appears as he caches the vase before hitting the floor.  A tall burly man with a thick beard dressed in traditional Egyptian regalia, stands next to him with a smile, holding the vase.  He speaks in English with a thick accent in a deep voice, and greets the American, commenting on how he looks like an Egyptian himself as he sets down the vase in the fallen spot.  

Alfonso gathers himself, and returns the greeting.  Forgetting about the glasses, he asks if the previous owner was anywhere near.  The woman answers, explaining that she is the granddaughter of the man he speaks of and that she is now the caretaker of the shop.  The man next to them is her cousin and co-owner of the store as well.  She continues about the store, as she talks about the importance of each object and the ancient ties they have to their country.  She asks about the glasses, if he had them with him.  He decides to lie and say he didn’t, and that he was looking for another pair as a gift.  Although her look of disbelief gives him the feeling that he made the right choice, and the shiftiness of her cousin.  She smiles and asks for his hand.

Not thinking, he adheres, as she turns it over and looks at his palm.  He starts to think he is in some kind of movie.  They are interrupted by an FBI looking middle aged white male, a Magnum P.I. look alike, mustache and all.  He walks in loud and obnoxious, greeting the other three.  Both the men are 6 feet plus tall, with burly builds.  They look at each other with a quick size up in who would win in a fight.  Alfonso gently detracts his hand and offers a smile and thank you for her time in Egyptian.  Everything in his body says to leave and that it was a bad idea to have told them about the glasses.  With everything wrong in the States, he sees that all his problems had followed him here; but now worse.  She breaks the tension by offering him a gift before he leaves.  She gives him an antique watch from WW II.  She says, it is a special watch from her grandfather.  From reading his palm, she can see that he has an important destiny, and that their paths were meant to meet.  

He again is hypnotized by her beauty as she speaks, and he accepts the gift.  As he begins to walk away, he gives a nod to her cousin, in a short appreciation manly way and says goodbye in Egyptian.  It is returned.  He walks by the CIA looking fella and has a greeting moment.   The man gives him a grunt and a half smile as they walk past each other.  Alfonso’s not sure what to think as he makes his way back to the motel.  Now he knows there is more to these glasses, and it might be worse than he thought.  He recalls on what she said about Destiny and how they were meant to cross paths.  It doesn’t give him any reassurance in his future well being, both physically or spiritually.  He forgets all about the watch as he searches for a place to get a strong drink and get his mind off of his troubles.  

 Chapter Five

Age Si Quod Agis

 He drinks a beer and an occasional shot of Whiskey.  He thinks to himself how he got into this mess.  He’s almost lost his job to his arch nemesis, he’s starting to see things everywhere, like the world went crazy or has always been some kind of twilight zone.  How he ended up in Egypt with the American Feds following him, along with some crazy mystical woman doing some spells on him.  He’s almost forty with no wife and doesn’t see his son enough.  He still hasn’t gotten his Doctorate.  His career measures into banging twenty something year old hot chicks and women at bars mad at their husbands or boyfriends, teaching about things that already happened, that will never happen again, seeing humanities dark secrets that somehow invaded his dreams and secretly rule the world in plain sight, and now they are keeping tabs on him.  Oh, and his ex is financial, and relationship wise, doing better than him.  Not to forget his Greek ex girlfriend that he fell in love with, moved away and got with some Ashton Kutcher looking douche bag with Daddies money.   He trying to think if he forgot anything. 

Then his self loathing pity party is interrupted by a twenty something year old blonde Swiss model in a red dress, like something out of an 80’s rock video.  As he was sitting at the bar, eating chips and salsa, watching soccer on the screen behind the bar, the young woman squeezes in on his left side, pressing her body on his.  She smells really good.  In her Swiss accent, she orders a Stella and three for her friends.  He can’t help but look to see who her friends are.  A group of female models, all more gorgeous than the next.  He didn’t notice how the bar had gotten full and the crowd was a rowdy one.  He starts to hear a live band doing sound check on the patio.  The woman makes eye contact with him and gives him a glowing smile, enough for him to forget his troubles.  She offers him a shot of Whiskey.  She says its her birthday and he should join her and her friends to go see the band.  

After everything that he’s been through, he takes the shot with the girl and wishes her a happy birthday, but is about to decline the band, as the other girls surround him and he finds himself helpless to join in the group of giggling European models from France, Russia and Spain.  As the night continues, they are dancing, laughing, grinding, kissing and touching.  The girls go to the bathroom and he has a moment to realize he shouldn’t be here.  He looks around, and realizes he is drunk.  One of the girls grabs his jacket sleeve and leads him to the bathroom.  They are doing some lines, and he joins in.  Now he knows he shouldn’t be there.  Two of the girls start kissing as the other two prepare more lines.  Alfonso starts talking to himself, weighing the options, and is wondering how his luck has changed.  He begins to smile.  

Suddenly he hears loud bursts, sounding like gun fire.  He thinks it might be the band and it must be the drugs.  One of the girls starts arousing him and kissing his neck.  She is the french girl with bangs, long legs and mini skirt.  As he forgets the band, he notices his refection in the mirror.  The only thing is, he only sees his reflection.  The door bursts open as that same American agent is dragging three punk rock looking vampires along with him, with his guns firing.  Immediately the women turn into monsters, fangs flairing, eyes glowing, claws out.  He fucking panics.  He has never seen anything like this.  He is pushed into the stalls, or jumps in one, he’s not sure, nor cares.  He hits his head on the toilet seat.  Bleeding from his hairline, he sees vampire heads bursting, people flying into walls, bullets ricocheting, curses blurted, drugs flying, things set on fire.  He thinks it must be the drugs.  This is impossible, somehow he is having a bad trip.  

As all hell breaks loose, the vampire demon french girl sticks her head into the stall and goes to his head off.  His reflexes make his legs up-kick her face and jaw towards the ceiling.  Her scaled marble skin almost breaks his ankles.  Her head explodes as he gets to his feet.  The American agent rustles him out of the bathroom as he continues shooting.  Alfonso sees that most of the crowd has rushed away, and the bar is left in shambles with a small group of male vampires surround them.  They look like the bouncers.  He is still not sure if he is hallucinating, but everything in his body is saying that this is real.  He picks up a pool stick, breaks it in half, and follows the lead of the Magnum P.I. looking guy with the guns.  

They make their way towards the door, taking out vampires left and right.  He uses bottles from the bar with lighters and candles on the bartenders vampire face, legs of chairs in hearts and skulls.  He finds a gun from one of the dead vampire bouncers.   They make it out and get a ride from a female counterpart to palm tree shirt wearing guy.  It’s a yellow DeLorean or Lamborgini. He gets stuck squeezing in the middle.  The make it to the highway.  As he sees out the passenger window, there are flying winged vampires diving next to them.  The woman driver makes hast with quick turns and twists through tunnels and alleys to lose or damage the flying guests.  

They seem to go through an underground tunnel, and make an entrance to a boating dock.  They rush on one of the larger vessels, and are hurdled through some kind of secret doorway shoot.  But before they make the door closes behind them, a sailor vampire makes it through.  They tussle with the vampire in a mini submarine.  They dare not shoot, in odds of damaging the controls or hull.  Hand to hand combat with a vampire is never good.  The agents use their knives and prowess, but in the end they are only human.  In such close quarters, they kill the vampire decapitation, but the Hawaiian shirt guy is dead, and the woman is gravely injured.  The death blow came from Alfonso as he used one of their knives that he clenches with closed fist at the end of the battle.  She looks at him with the hardened stare of a soldier that has been through multiple wars.  They make their way to a Greece. 

Along the way, she briefs him on who they are and what their mission is.  She explains that a secret war has been going on for quite some time, and there is a world agency that has been dealing with the supernatural, unbeknownst to the normal world.  In the last fifty years there has been a steady incline of those ancient beings taking political power and military positions to start a war.  Instead of working in the dark, they are casting spells and recruiting humans to their fold through money, breeding, assassinations, social networking, new drugs, food and water contamination.  They have become so powerful around the world, that they are starting to openly reveal a sinister government, through black magic, to hypnotize the mass population.  

The agency she belongs to has been compromised and the agents are now scattered and trying to regroup secretly.  Some of them like herself are operating as mercs, doing black ops and freelance work.  They caught wind of Alfonso’s situation by riding a wave of energy leading to him and the glasses.  It is a rare energy that is dangerous to the walking dead and possessed.  She says they have a strong group in Europe that are descendants of monster hunters.  They are the ones that sent them to retrieve him and bring him back to their meeting rendezvous.  She doesn’t think she is going to make it, but the submarine is locked on the coordinates, they should be found within the hour.  He watches her pass out.  He reaches in his jacket pocket and realizes he doesn’t have anything other than his wallet and his glasses.