#but shes here. and you know she’d love to look up to you again. can you even stomach that after what you did?

[gabbyclarkeytv]

The dog and the postwoman

-Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader

(Also friend!Bambino Becky and friend!George Clarke)

Summary: Y/n is a newish YouTuber who gets invited to join a ChrisMD pub golf video, alongside her newfound crush. The pair are subtly teased throughout by the other members, who ship them.

-Slow burn fluff, strangers to friends to… something more? Lots of flirting, exchanged glances, light touches, almost-kisses.

-Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, mentions of vomit (not graphic at all)

-Word count: 9,537 words

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n?????

——> Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Just a few comments flooding in ChrisMD’s latest video, this one with yt/n’s pub golf debut:

Y/n was quite new to the content creator scene. She created a few vlogs and reaction videos here and there with little to no views, despite her efforts and good content. Her TikToks were the same. Until one day one YouTube video exploded, her subscriber count grew, alongside TikTok followers. All of a sudden one George Clarke would comment on one of her TikToks, and she slowly became good friends with him. Their friendship became more well known after guest starring on the Useless Hotline podcast. Following that, she collaborated with BambinoBecky on her own channel.

Through George and Max, y/n met ChrisMD and Arthur Hill, and that’s how she wound up on one of Chris’s pub golf videos.

There was no particular theme to this pub golf video, until the costumes came out of course. With Calfreezy as the usual referee, dressed in usual ref attire, the pairs and costumes were as follows:

Arthur TV and Chip in dog onesies, AKA ‘Bone Appetite’

ChrisMD and George in pickle costumes, AKA ‘Team Gherkings’

Y/n and Becky dressed as post-women, AKA ‘The Fe-mails’

This is y/n’s first time meeting Arthur, Cal, and Chip, but she was quite nervous about meeting the Arthur TV after he’d been so hyped up by George and Arthur Hill.

With Arthur turning up later (as usual) they didn’t get a chance to properly meet each other, aside from quick ‘hellos’ and name introductions before the filming began. If she was honest, y/n was always intrigued by Arthur, both from his content and the anecdotes she’d heard from George, Chris, and Arthur Hill. What she didn’t know was that Arthur was also very interested in meeting her, loving her content after being shown it by George and Chris on separate occasions. “You’d love her” they’d say.

When y/n and Becky pose for their team introduction in the video, y/n feels a little shy with the eyes and cameras on her in the open public, but she mentally prepared for this beforehand and perseveres. Becky has her arms folded, whereas y/n is holding some prop envelopes up whilst smiling at the camera. “That’s perfect!” Chris giggles. Stepping out of shot ready for Cal’s referee posing, y/n locks eyes with Arthur after feeling him looking, and almost immediately, Arthur diverts his gaze, embarrassed.

Chip and Arthur step in frame for their clip, Arthur’s eyes kept finding their way to y/n, which she swears she can see in the corner of her view while she chats with Becky. Y/n and Becky then turn to watch the boys, and y/n meets Arthur’s gaze again and this time, she gives him a small smile before he can look away. His eyebrows slightly raise for a brief moment before he grins back, his sweet eyes squinting. “Ready mate?” Chip suddenly asks him, snapping Arthur out of his short daze. They pose, Arthur softly smiling to the camera whilst Chip pants with his hands up T-Rex style, making Arthur laugh and shake his head. All of this gets caught in their slow-mo introduction footage, making it both charming and funny.

Arthur looks to y/n again, still chuckling, and was delighted to see that she too was laughing at Chip’s antics. ‘Good to know we have a similar sense of humour’, he thinks to himself.

“He fancies you I recon,” Becky whispers to y/n, giving her a smirk and a slight elbow nudge. Y/n turns to Becky, eyes widening.

“What- Who?” she replies. Although she knows who Becky meant, she is just baffled to hear it. Before Becky could repeat herself, Arthur and Chip join them, as George and Chris step up for their shot. Arthur steps next to y/n. Y/n scoffs at the ‘Gherkings’ as they both flex at the camera, finding their pose choice amusing despite their outfits. “Those divvies,” Arthur chuckles, adding to y/n’s amusement as he leans more towards her. She giggles and adds “Should’ve called themselves prick-les,” her comment eliciting a hearty laugh from Arthur. His elbow brushes against her upper arm as he leans back, catching her off guard as she realises how close they’re standing.

She feels her heart race as she smiles to the ground awkwardly, Arthur also looks down and takes a small step back, feeling his cheeks burn. Becky gives y/n another small nudge with her elbow as she lowly lets out an “Oi oi.”

“Guys,” Chris calls out, catching everyone’s attention, “we just have to do the one-to-one questions and then we’re ready to start!”

Chris is up first as the cameraman asks how drunk he’ll get. He gives his usual answer of saying he’ll be plastered. George is next, then Chip, then Arthur.

“Well, if we’re talking dog years, I’ll be drunk seven times sooner. Or later?” Arthur answers, giving a cheeky chuckle at the camera. Y/n overhears and smiles at his cute joke. She already thought he was cute in his videos, but seeing his behaviour in person just solidifies it.

Becky’s up next, saying she’ll smash it and proudly states that she’s a girl who can handle her drink. Y/n, not so much, realising what she’s got herself into as she steps up into shot. “How do you think you’ll fare today?” the cameraman asks.

“I’m a lightweight,” she starts, “but I’ll promise to deliver-“ then awkwardly laughs at her lame joke, hiding her face behind her prop envelope and shaking her head with embarrassment.

“Oh y/n!” Becky shouts, laughing herself, “And this is you sober, we’re screwed!” Y/n joins her teammate, whispering an awkward apology for what she just witnessed. Arthur on the other hand, finds her joke adorable. Becky puts an arm round her, about to say some reassurance before Chris calls to the group.

“Right, that’s all done,” he shouts, clasping his hands together, looking to the camera that just filmed their mini interviews, “let’s all head to the first pub.” The rest of the crew all grab their cameras and start recording as the group starts walking.

The pairs talk amongst themselves for a bit, mostly small talk while the camera crew get shots of them walking. Chris talks to one camera with George up ahead, leaving the Fe-Mails and Bone Appetite to gather together behind.

“So y/n,” Chip starts, “is this your first pub golf video?”

“Yeah it is,” y/n replies smiling, “this is my first collab out in the public too, and with this many people.” Chip and Arthur both nod. The camera man puts the camera on them, catching the conversation that follows.

“She’s a lightweight as well,” Becky chimes in, eliciting an ‘uh-oh’ from Chip. “She got tipsy on our video together and she barely drank!” Becky continues as the others chuckle.

“I remember seeing that!” Arthur adds with enthusiasm, looking to y/n as he walks his way closer to her. “I’m sorry but you’re not surviving today!”

The cameraman moves to Cal, who’s walking at the back to make sure no one falls over already or insults the crew, either action earning them a shot or a point for their team.

Knowing she’s off camera, Becky gently clasps her hand over the mic attached to her shirt collar and leans to y/n’s ear. “He definitely fancies you, Arthur does. I can tell,” she whispers with a grin. Y/n just shakes her head with a shy smile.

Chip and Arthur look behind to the girls whispering, then to each other, shrugging with confused smiles. They walk slightly further ahead and Chip looks over his shoulder at them. “The chemistry is mad already bro,” he quietly says to Arthur. Arthur looks at him and furrows his eyes in confusion.

“Those two?” he questions, leaning his head towards Chip to hear him better.

“No bro, you and y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He clarifies, giving Arthur a tap on his shoulder.

Before Arthur can attempt to protest, they reach the first pub. Taking seats outside, the teams sit opposite each other and Cal grabs himself a seat at the end of the table. On one side of the table is George, Arthur, and Becky; the other side dons Chris, Chip, and y/n. Y/n and Arthur are both silently thankful to not be sat together at first, as neither creator wants the other to feel any rising heat, especially after the conversations they both just had. Unfortunately for both of them, they realise they are right in each other’s line of sight, and the cameras might pick up on any awkward exchanged glances.

The pints are brought to the table by a couple of crew members, with one pint placed in front of each participant. “Right, the rules for the first game are simple,” Cal bellows to the camera facing him, “Each player must down as much of their pint as possible within 10 seconds. The pair with the most beer drank gets 1 point, the next team gets two points, and the slowest drinkers earn 3 points.” The cameramen capture shots of the creators listening to the rules and close-up shots of the beers. Cal continues: “If a player spills any drink, fall over, or pukes, they earn either an additional point or can instead take a shot as a forfeit.”

The girls go first, Becky downing her drink almost perfectly. She leaves a little foam at the bottom, and Chip and Arthur try arguing that the drink is incomplete, but Cal allows it to count as an empty drink. Y/n wraps her hand around her glass, looking to Becky as she says “I’m so sorry,” with a sheepish smile before gulping as much as she can, leaving the pint glass with about a third of beer left when her 10 seconds are up. She sets her glass down and wipes her lips, frowning and shaking her head at the bitter flavour.

“We’ve got this in the bag bro!” Arthur chuckles as he smirks to Chip, giving him a hi-five.

“Yeah, you’re shit y/n!” Chip joins in, causing the table to laugh at his sudden unnecessary comment.

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

“Rude!” Becky shouts, feigning an offended face to Chip.

“No offence y/n!” Arthur adds with a cheeky grin, locking eyes with her. She secretly adores hearing him say her name.

“None taken Arthur,” she returns with a big smile, Arthur feeling his face burn, also loving the way his name rolls off her tongue.

The dogs are next up to play. Arthur goes first, using his two handed grip and only just downing the pint in one within the time limit, leaving no foam behind. Chip hi-fives him again, shouting “Yes brother!” Arthur proudly beams, looking down at his lap before his eyes quickly dart up to y/n, seeing she’s smiling whilst still looking at his completely empty pint glass. “Here we go, bone appetite!” Chip declares as he downs his drink, leaving just a small amount at the bottom of the glass.

“Well we’ve lost then!” Becky laughs, faking anger and slamming her hands in the table. Y/n is about to protest before realising George’s turn is next and he’s a drinking machine. George confidently grasps his drink. “Ah we’re cooked!” Chip murmurs to Arthur. George effortlessly gulps his drink down with 3 seconds to spare, cockily exhaling as he slams his glass down.

Chris is up next, gesturing a cheers towards George before downing his pint. “Look at the way he grips that thaing!” Arthur calls out in a slight accent, causing Chris to jerk his head forward to giggle and spill a couple of drops of beer onto the table. “Oh! Spillage!” Arthur shouts gleefully as he points at the new stains. Cal looks to Chris with his mouth open and the camera zooms in on the table. Chip and y/n are laughing as Becky shouts “Waaay!”. Both Chris and George argue with Cal that it’s unfair for them to get penalised as Arthur made him laugh. Cal coldly looks to them both and states “Spill’s a spill Chris, do you want to take a shot or a pint.”

Chris rolls his eyes and asks for a shot. Amongst the spilling drama, Chris didn’t finish his pint, leaving it half empty and starting off the scores as:

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

As the group head off to the next pub, Arthur jogs his way up to y/n. “I’m sorry for my comment before,” he starts, smiling at the floor sheepishly, “when you finished your drink.”

“Oh that’s okay, I didn’t take offence to either of you, don’t worry!” Y/n replies, giggling quietly at his sweet apology.

“OK, good!” Arthur chuckles, feeling relieved, “I have a habit of dishing out insults when I…” he stops himself for a second, “get to know someone.” he ends, thinking on his feet.

Y/n shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, “I enjoy the banter, I’m the same.” She replies.

Arthur beams as he looks to his crush. “I see, what else do you enjoy?” They start exchanging interests, followed by facts about science, animals, anything really as they continue leading the group towards their next destination.

Behind them, Chip and Becky walk with George. “Bro’s in love” Chip says as he gestures ahead, a little too loud, but the pair at the front are in their own world and don’t hear. Becky and George agree, giggling. “I think she feels the same way,” Becky replies with a genuine smile.

Behind the trio, Cal and Chris are being filmed from behind while they talk, the angle capturing all the players in one frame.

Chip jogs forward to join Arthur and y/n. “What are you two nerds yappin’ about?” he asks them as he wraps an arm round Arthur’s shoulder.

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

Simultaneously, y/n replies with “Space,” with a grin. A crew member joins to record them, walking backwards ahead of them, capturing the three in frame.

“Nice. Y/n, you feelin’ lightheaded yet?” Chip directs towards her, leaning forwards to look past Arthur. Arthur turns his head to her too, intrigued.

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

“REALLY?” Arthur exclaims. His eyes widely looking down at her, his lips curled up a little. “Goodness, you really are a lightweight!”

Y/n laughs, “Yeah, it’s bad isn’t it. I feel bad for Becky really!”

“‘Least we’re guaranteed second place ey bro?” Chip says, tightening his grip round Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

“You boys are mean!” Y/n retorts playfully.

The group reaches the second pub. Outside there are only tables of four. Y/n and Becky sit opposite each other first. Arthur and Chip join them. This time, Arthur bravely sits beside y/n, their arms touching. Y/n looks at their arms, observing the closeness. She begins feeling wary of the cameras and doesn’t want to come across as having a schoolgirl crush (which wouldn’t be wrong). As the others take their seats and chat, Arthur notices y/n’s slight change in demeanour and bumps her gently with his arm. “You okay?” he whispers as he leans his face towards hers, hoping his quiet words reach her ear and no one else’s.

She thinks fast, “I’m all good thanks, just dreading what we’ll be put through next,” she awkwardly giggles, turning her head to look at him only to almost brush noses. She didn’t initially realise how close his face was when he whispered just before. They both go wide eyed and lean away from each other, Arthur clearing his throat and sheepishly apologising, looking to his lap with a small smile. “You’re all good” y/n quietly giggles in response, looking down too, to avoid any risk of someone seeing her definitely reddening cheeks.

“So, in this round, each team member has to feed the drink to their teammate.” The pairs glare at each other, y/n and Becky giving each other a nod. Cal continues: “One player must stand with their hands on their hips, as their teammate stands behind them, with their arms through the player’s arms,” he manhandles Chris for demonstration. Turning Chris around and forcing his hands on his hips, Cal then loops his hands through as if his arms are now Chris’s and mimes holding a drink up to Chris’s lips. This earns nods amongst the other players, followed by ‘oh’s. “They then switch,” Cal explains further, “And the team with the lowest collective time it takes to finish their drinks, gains the least amount of points.”

George and Chris go first. “Here we go, turn around darling” George smirks to Chris as he spins him by his hips. Chris giggles high pitched, flapping his arms in a fake shy manner, causing the others to laugh. They do a terrible job, Chris keeps pulling his head away from the pint glass to tell George off for pouring too fast. “Shut up and take it!” George kept replying, giving the female viewers more treats with his choice of wording. It takes them just under a minute for Chris to finish his drink.

They switch, George offering Chris a hand. When Chris looks to him confused, George says: “I thought you’d want help climbing onto the bench so you can reach around me properly.” The group chuckle, including Chris as he rolls his eyes. They do better this way around, but mostly due to George’s drinking skills.

The other teams watch on from their table. Arthur leaning past y/n slightly so he can get a good view. She can feel his breath slightly fanning on the back of her ear, but team Gherking’s entertaining performance is distracting enough for her to not get too flustered. Chip gives Becky a subtle “Oop” and when she turns back to look at him, he gestures his head towards y/n and Arthur. From their angle, the pair are sat so close. Arthur’s elbow is resting on the table, his hand sat next to y/n’s side. His upper body is twisted toward her, his chest slightly pressed to her right shoulder. Any public onlookers would assume they’re a couple. Becky looks back to Chip and rolls her eyes with a beaming smile. Their chemistry already was undeniable, although a bit of liquid confidence may be part of the reason.

Arthur and Chip are next, stepping into shot. Chip stands behind Arthur as Cal passes a pint to him. “Uh Chip, what’s that in your pocket?” Arthur jokingly asks.

“You don’t wanna know bro” Chip replies. They do a fantastic job, Chip very gently tilting the pint more and more as Arthur gulps. Already he drinks the pint twice as fast as George and Chris’s first go. They switch places.

“What’s that massive thing poking my ass?” Chip shouts, turning to y/n and giving her a subtle wink with a smirk, being careful to not get caught by any of the cameras.

“Oh my word!” Arthur calls out in shock, followed by a chuckle as he shakes his head. Y/n laughs as she leans her head down into her arms resting on the table. She’s terrified of the cameras picking up any possible redness in her face. The pair do a great job again, their tactic was slow and steady after watching George rush Chris. They did miles better.

It’s the girls’ turn, Becky taking position behind y/n first. “Give us a hum or something if I’m pouring too fast hun,” Becky instructs in her ear. Y/n nods with a determined grin. Arthur looks on at y/n’s physique, as he hadn’t been able to look before. She carries herself confidently yet she’s humble, something he finds so attractive. The pair do an amazing job and then switch places. “Y/n your ass is very soft and squishy!” Becky exclaims, patting her on the back for finishing the pint quite fast.

“This old thing?” Y/n jokingly replies, looking back to Becky and sticks her butt out slightly towards her. The drinks may be going to her head already. They both laugh as y/n giggles out an apology as Becky shakes her head. “Oh my…” Arthur quietly says to himself as he turns to Chip, being sure not to allow himself to stare, instead he locks eyes with his smirking teammate.

Y/n stands behind Becky and takes the pint from Cal. Y/n leans forward, her head just above Becky’s shoulder so she can watch Becky’s face and pour based on her expression. “Looks like she’s pouring based on Becky’s swallows, good tactic!” Cal calls out. Arthur watches on, taking into account y/n’s care to Becky. Chip leans over the table. “She’s clever and caring bro, wife her up!” Chip whispers. Arthur exhales a laugh through his nose at Chips words, he slightly shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off y/n.

The Fe-Mails finish the fastest, against all odds. Chris blames George for pouring too fast and George retorts by saying Chris whined too much. The scores now as follows:

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

The next pub isn’t too far away, about a four minute walk. Chris runs up ahead of George, Arthur, and Chip to reach y/n who is walking alongside Becky and Cal. “So y/n, how are you finding pub golf so far?” he asks, with a camerman walking alongside them.

“I’m really enjoying it so far thanks,“ she starts, “it’s been really fun and everyone’s so nice.”

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met some of the guys before. Cal, Arthur, and Chip right? Alongside the crew?” Chris replies.

“Oop, Chris just said your name” Chip teases Arthur quietly. Arthur looks up ahead of him to see Chris and y/n talking in front of a camera while walking. “You two are really getting on aren’t you, you and y/n?” he adds, patting Arthur on the back.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” he smiles as he whispers, “She’s just like she is in her videos, not that I thought she wouldn’t be or anything.”

“Yeah, I’d been watching her stuff for a while and before even meeting her, I thought that you guys should meet,” George chimes in, joining Arthur’s other side. “You’re both awkward and nerdy and funny, two peas in a pod really.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires, quite loud, and the boys shush him as y/n and Chris are only a couple of metres ahead and could’ve heard.

They arrive at the third pub already, but there were no seats outside available, so they all squeeze into a round booth inside, with Cal in the middle. From left to right is Becky, Chris, Chip, Cal, George, Arthur, and y/n.

A tray full of shots gets placed on the round table. Cal explains to the camera that this round is an alphabet game where starting with Arthur, they’ll take turns clockwise naming something within a category, from A-Z. Whoever hesitates or says a word starting with the wrong letter, they need to drink a shot. A shot in this game earns a point for the team. The first round is dog breeds, matching Chip and Arthur’s costumes. It goes as follows:

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

“Hesitation!” Chris and Cal both shout. Chip puts his head in his hands and groans. He picks up a shot and shouts “I can’t think of any dogs starti’ with E!”

“English bull terrier!” Arthur calls, gesturing fake-angrily, “It’s OUR theme!”

“Aw man!” Chip replies as he downs his shot. Arthur chuckles, turning to look at y/n who’s also enjoying the antics. Arthur doesn’t notice at first, but his leg is pressed against y/n’s, mostly due to George manspreading.

George turns to Arthur, “That’s handy, I couldn’t think of a dog beginning with F either,” he chuckled, shrugging.

“A Frenchie?” Y/n replied, leaning forward past Arthur.

“Yeah, a French bulldog, y/n literally said ‘bulldog’ and basically gave that to you!” Arthur laughs, as he nudges y/n.

Round two is fruit and vegetables, based on team Gherkings. Starting with Chip, the game begins:

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

“Brother that’s an animal!” Chip interrupts, pointing at Arthur.

“Cantaloupe?” George asks with both surprise and a smirk as the group laughs.

“You’re thinking of an antelope!” Arthur calls back.

“You’re on the same team!” Chris chortles.

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

Y/n’s jaw drops, Arthur looks to her in surprise.

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

“Yeah, she started talking but Chip interrupted” Becky adds.

“To be fair, she said ‘dragon fruit’, I heard her.” Arthur claims, matter of factly as he leans back and puts a hand on y/n’s shoulder, giving it a pat.

“I didn’t hear her, did anyone else hear her besides Arthur?” Cal asks the group.

“I didn’t.” George answers, smugly, shooting a grin towards y/n.

“I did!” Becky adds.

“Well that’s bollocks,” Chris states as he crosses his arms, “if George didn’t hear it, you’re not gonna hear it from all the way over there!”

“George is lying!” “Because George is lying” y/n and Arthur exclaim at the same time.

George sarcastically presses a hand to his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

“That settles it, y/n hesitated.” Cal finalises, smacking the table like a judge with a gavel. George picks up a shot and hands it to y/n “Drink up,” he grins. She takes the shot from him as she narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, but this means war.” she jokingly murmurs before taking the shot, disgusted by the aftertaste.

“Well done,” Arthur says, leaning back to touch her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze as he grins at her.

The third round is items you’d find in a post office. “Chip, as you interrupted y/n last round, you can start.” Cal states.

Chips stutters, “A…analytics, like sheets of analytics and data and stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

“Boxes!” George shouts, not taking any chances.

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

“Chris, if you continue interrupting and time wasting, you’ll need to take a shot.” Cal states. The game continues:

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

“Hesitation!” Cal shouts, slamming the table again as the others join in shouting.

“Uh, fine!” Chris groans as he downs a shot, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head. “Bloody awful.”

“So, each team has one point each?” George questions, “Well that game was fucking pointless then!”

Cal nods, pretending to be deeply disappointed in everyone. “I was worried this would happen,” he starts, “So we have one more round!”

The cameras whip around everyone as ‘ooh’s echo throughout. The final round was for countries. “Chris, you start.”

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

“No!” Y/n cries out, belly laughing as she puts her head in her hands. Arthur laughs along with her and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Becky calls out, immediately grabbing a shot and drinking as Cal shouts: “Incorrect!”

“‘London’” Chris quietly says to himself as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry Becks, I thought London too,” Chip leans forward, calling to Becky who had her head on the table.

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

As the group stand up from the booth, the drinks are starting to get to the group’s heads. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Becky shouts, wobbling as she carefully steps out of the booth, Chris getting up behind her with his arms outreached ready to catch her if she falls. Y/n gets up and stumbles slightly, catching herself on the table. Arthur smiles and reaches out to her at the same time. “Woah, careful there!” he chuckles.

Heading to the next pub, Chip loses his footing off the curb, his ankle buckling as he drops to the floor. He’s totally fine and just lays there laughing as Becky and Chris immediately head over to help him up, also cackling. “Oop! Was that a fall there Chip?” Cal questions, pointing at the obviously collapsed man on the floor.

“No…” Chip replies as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Do you want a point for the team or a shot at the next pub?” Cal asks.

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to go for your first answer,” Cal states, “One extra point to Bone Appetite!” Arthur shakes his head with a small snigger as he walks beside Cal, a camera pointing at them both.

George is walking alongside y/n, at the front of the group. “Having a good time?” He asks. A little tipsy, she giggles.

“I really am, thanks for getting me on here.” She beams. George grins back.

“I’m glad. And I must say, you’ve made an astonishing first impression.” He states.

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve seen the crew laugh at some of your jokes. Chip thinks you’re proper nice, and don’t get me started on Arthur.” George elaborates.

Y/n looks to George shyly, “What d’you mean?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asks as he darts ahead to join George and y/n, walking on the other side of her.

“Nothing bad Television, I was just telling y/n what a good impression she’s made already today with her pub golf debut.” George calmly explains. Arthur nods, looking to y/n with a sweet smile.

“You really have!” He adds, his beam so wide his eyes close. “You’ll definitely be asked to join again. If not by Chris, which would make him an idiot, but by the viewers.”

Y/n gets bashful. “Aw, thanks!” She replies.

“And I certainly want you to join again,” Arthur continues, looking y/n in the eyes with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, because you’re terrible and give us a good boost.” George adds, sporting a childish smirk before then drifting back to join the others behind them.

“He’s such an idiot sometimes, ignore him.” Arthur whispers, “His team’s losing anyway.”

Reaching the fourth pub, more shots were purchased for the players. They stand around a circular table outside as Cal announces the rules: Each player must down their shot, with their hands behind their back and only using their mouth to lift the glass. Any spills, leftover drink, or using hands earns the player’s team a point.

Chris goes first and accidentally leaves a little drink at the bottom. Chip and Arthur scream for Cal to penalise him while George squeezes his nose bridge in half-joking frustration. Cal gives team Gherkings a point for not finishing the shot. Becky’s next and completes her shot with ease. “Piece of piss!” She gloats while pointing at the camera. Chip’s next and being giggly and tipsy, he giggles mid-drink and spits the glass out. The drink spills everywhere and the shot glass bounces off the table and shatters on the floor. Arthur clasps his hands to his head, “What are you doing?” He exclaims.

“That’s two points for Bone Appetite, not just for spilling but for breaking a glass!” Cal calls. Arthur playfully shakes Chip by the shoulders with gritted teeth. Chip just giggles. Becky pumps a fist in the air and hi-fives y/n, as they both realise they’re in first place now.

George takes his shot just fine, followed by Arthur. Y/n watches Arthur’s lips around the glass, feeling a little flustered as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Arthur drinks his shot just fine too. Y/n’s last and also has the giggles, nervous she’ll make the same mistake as Chip. “Calm yourself babes, focus!” Becky cheers on. Y/n clasps her hands behind her lower back and leans forward, gripping the shot glass with her lips. George looks to Arthur, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, luckily both are out of view of the cameras. Arthur clears his throat awkwardly and locks eyes with George. “Oh grow up” Arthur quietly murmurs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile. Although he can’t deny, he’s starting to break a sweat.

Y/n lifts the glass and tilts her head back fine, but Chip then makes a fake orgasm moan which causes her to laugh. Unlike Chip however, she leans forward and the drink lands back in the shot glass, and she places it back on the table with her mouth. “What the hell Chip?” She calls out, chortling as she stood straight again.

“One point to the Fe-Mails!” Cal declares.

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

Heads are starting to spin from the last few shots, and it shows in all the players now. Chris in particular is struggling, groaning as he walks along with the group on the way to the penultimate pub. “Chris, if you chunder you get a point for each spew!” Cal calls to him from the back of the group.

“Fuck off, we’re losing anyway!” Chris shouts back.

“Only by one point, you idiot!” George snaps at his suffering teammate. Cal looks to the camera with fake outrage.

“Did he just disrespect the ref?”, the cameraman made the camera nod. He turns back to the group and puts a hand either side of his mouth. “One point to team Gherkings for disrespecting the ref!”

The girls are also struggling, clinging onto each other as y/n’s steps in particular become gradually more wobbled as they waddle alongside George. Arthur chuckles from behind them. “Wow, you really ARE bad at this y/n!” he calls. She’s too busy concentrating on not falling over to fight back with a witty comment and just giggles.

Reaching the fifth pub, they realise there are no chairs available inside or out, so the crew go to the bar to grab the drinks while the players head back out the pub entrance and all stand on the street. Cal hands Becky and y/n a pint each. “Try not to spew this one back in the glass this time y/n!” Arthur sniggers, his liquid courage getting to him. Becky gives him a middle finger and Chip chuckles.

“Don’t start with me Arthur or I’ll spew on you!” Y/n retorts, not her best comeback but she’s beyond tipsy at this point.

“He’d probably like that,” George whispers under his breath, making Chris cackle.

This round is pretty simple, one teammate needs to feed the other as much of a pint as possible within 10 seconds. If any teammate finishes the pint before the 10 seconds, the team gets one point deducted from their score. Becky and y/n go first, Becky doing the pouring for y/n. “Just squeeze my shoulder if you want me to slow down yeah?” Becky explains, “I’ve seen the others do it before.”

Y/n nods, putting her arm around Becky and resting on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it too, good plan.” She replies. Remarkably, y/n manages almost all the pint, following Becky’s suggestion. The boys cheer her as it’s the best performance y/n has done so far. They swap places and Becky puts her arm around y/n. Watching on from the side, chip slaps Arthur’s back. “Bet you’d love to put your arm around y/n like that wouldn’t you?” He whispers. George, standing the other side chimes in, making quiet kissy noises. Arthur presses his hand to his brow bone and giggles to himself. “You guys are too much, seriously.”

“Honestly mate, she seems into you, she’d probably let you.” Chris adds, standing in front of the boys but hearing everything. He turns to look at Arthur, so he can see Chris is being genuine.

“I don’t know her that well, but for the time I’ve known her, she hasn’t radiated this much with anyone as she’s done with you.” George adds, also using a legitimate tone. Patting Arthur on the back.

Y/n tips the glass for Becky, the whole time watching her face and paying close attention to the hand on her shoulder. “Yes Becky” she quietly chants throughout the 10 seconds, but sadly Becky also doesn’t finish the whole pint in time. Next up are Bone Appetite, Chip deeply suffering as he barely downs half the pint before stopping and trying not to vomit. The boys shouting their fair shares of ‘uh oh’s, trying to make Chip feel worse. Chip doubles over and braces himself. Arthur stands beside him, “Seriously, you alright mate?” He asks calmly.

Chris stands beside y/n, a crew member filming them both. “I thought you’d be the first to go y/n,” he chuckles. Looking back over as the onesie wearers are both leaning against the wall. Y/n giggles, watching Arthur be a supportive friend and melting a little internally.

“Same here honestly” she replies, eliciting a laugh from Chris. Arthur and Chip step back into shot. Arthur pats his back lightly as Chip nods, confirming he’s okay to continue.

Chip begins pouring the drink into Arthur’s mouth. Y/n watching on as Arthur confidently gestures up with his spare arm so Chip can pour faster. Arthur remarkably finishes the pint, reducing their team’s point by one. The other players applaud, y/n is impressed, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You’re drooling” George whispers as he leans into her and winks, he and Chris making their way in front of the camera for their turn. Arthur and Chip cross them, Chip heading inside because he needs a ‘massive slash’ and Arthur joining y/n.

Y/n is stood leaning against the wall as Arthur stands beside her, his arm reached out and hand behind her, pressed against the wall. Shuffling her feet as she watches the Gherkings have their turn, she steps back slightly and the back of her neck meets Arthur’s arm. “Oh, sorry,” she awkwardly whispers to him, letting out a small giggle. Arthur tuts with a faint smile.

“Don’t be silly!” He whispers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, reaching his hand round to squeeze her shoulder a little, before returning it back to the wall. He catches her smiling to herself as he returns his gaze back to George and Chris, and he can’t stop himself from beaming either.

George pouring into Chris’s mouth didn’t go well, only managing half the pint. When they swap however, George also manages to finish his pint. They lose a point for their team, the Fe-Mails being the only team whose score stays the same. The scores at the end of this round are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

The gang head off to the last pub, wobblier than ever. Chris and Arthur are busy keeping Chip afloat, neither of them holding themselves too well either. George has his arms around Becky and y/n, he himself being the most sober of the players. “Look at George, Arthur, and Chris. Chivalrous as ever.” Cal says to the camera with a grin. They all pile into the pub, situating at a six-seater table. Cal pulls up a stool at the end again. Chris, Arthur, and Chip head down one side of the table and Becky, y/n, and George move down the other. Y/n sits opposite Arthur, but luckily she’s already flushed from the drinks.

“Okay guys, it’s the final game of the night!” Cal begins as the cameras focus on the table. He explains the rules: each team has a cocktail pitcher that they have to pour into their glasses and drink until the pitcher is empty. Fastest drinking team wins.

Bone Appetite go first, Arthur drinking more than Chip, but they manage to finish the pitcher in under a minute. Next is Becky and y/n. Y/n sniffs the pitcher and shudders. “I don’t think I’ll keep this stuff down Becky” she chuckles, embarrassed.

“Aw, you’ll be alright, I can take more drink if you want!” Becky replies, to which y/n nods. The boys look on with excitement, The Fe-Mails essentially one man down, all except Arthur. Despite wearing a smile to fit the others, deep down he can’t help but worry for y/n, not wanting her to spew on camera in her first ChrisMD video appearance. However, Becky sticks to her promise and takes the heavier load and they complete their turn, although slightly slower than Bone Appetite. Y/n pauses for a moment, a clenched fist held to her mouth. The gang stop to watch her, making sure she doesn’t spew but after a few seconds, she composes herself. “Phew, I’m fine!” She smiles. Becky and the boys relax.

Although it doesn’t seem like Chris is holding up too well either, as George drags their pitcher to rest in between them. “Chin up dearest,” George starts, “we got a game to win.”

Chris lets out a low burp into his hand, groaning out an “Oh god” that’s barely audible. Arthur excitedly looks to Chip, then to Becky and y/n, his eyes wide and lips pursed in an ‘ooh’ shape.

They start, but George quickly takes the lead as Chris struggles. As soon as he finishes his glass, Chris makes a dash from the table, leaving George and the rest to watch on in shock. “I won’t give him a point for vomiting just yet.” Cal chuckles. George turns his attention back to the pitcher, well aware that that they’re still against the clock, and pours himself a glass to continue. Remarkably, he finishes the entire pitcher’s worth and catches up to the girls’ time but wasn’t able to beat Chip and Arthur.

With the final game over, George excuses himself to check on his teammate, and the others talk amongst themselves. As Arthur talks with Chip, he gestures his hand a little too fast, knocking a glass of half melted ice over, the cold water spilling across the table, and dripping onto y/n’s lap. “Oh no!” He cries, eyes wide open as he clasps his hands to his mouth in horror. Y/n yelps at the sudden coldness but soon laughs it off.

“Spillage!” Becky shouts, pointing from the table to y/n while staring directly at Cal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit.” Arthur mumbles, “Let me get you some napkins!” He gets up and rushes away.

“Surely that doesn’t count as a spillage, the drink was all drink up- drunk up,” Chip tries reasoning with Cal.

“Nope, still a spill. A drink was spilled Chip!” Cal quips back in an authoritative but jokey tone. “One point to Bone Appetite!”

Arthur reappears at the table, retaking his seat and passing y/n a scrunched up bundle of napkins as she stands up ready to wipe herself.

“Thank you, good boy!” She giggles as she half-drunkenly leans over pats Arthur on the head, then proceeding to dab her trousers. Arthur looks super surprised at first, as Chip and Becky chortle, before breaking out into laughter himself.

“Brother I’m sorry, you got us a point but your face just then was so worth it!” Chip chuckles. Y/n sits back down, using the remainder of the napkins to dry the table. Arthur feeling all too aware that he may be blushing after being called a ‘good boy’ by the hottest girl he’s ever met, turns his head away from the table, nonchalantly saying “Where are the pickle boys?” to avoid the cameras picking up on any redness in his face. Luckily for him, they both appear from round the corner and return to the table. Sitting down and tucking their chairs in, Chris looks to Cal and bluntly says “Yeah, I threw up” with sheepish look, then he looks to the camera and sighs. George pretends to smell Chris’s bad breath and wafts his hand, then chuckles.

“One point to team Gherkings!” Cal starts, “And with that, the final scores are…” the players begin to smack their hands on the table for a drum roll. “In third place with 11 points is team Gherkings!” the other two teams clap as Chris put his hand to his chest and makes a faint bow. George puts his head down, smirking and gesturing at a very pale Chris, murmuring an “Obviously.”

“And now for first place… it’s a tie between Bone Appetite and The Fe-Mails!” Cal finishes. The table exchange a few ‘oohs’. “I thought this may happen,” Cal continues, “Therefore we have a tie breaker to determine first and second place!”

All of a sudden, two crew members approach the table with four baby Guinnesses, placing one in front of each of the tied team members.

“Oh god, I can’t drink anymore.” Chip whines, eliciting a low laugh from the table.

“I’m not sure if I can either.” Becky adds.

“Each team member will drink their baby Guinness, the faster of both teams will then compete in an arm wrestle.” Cal explains.

“Okay.” Y/n says to herself, determined, her hand ready on her small glass. She had assumed her team would’ve come last because of her, so beating George gave her some encouragement.

“Three-two-one-go!” Cal suddenly shouts very fast, hoping to throw them all off.

Chip doesn’t even move, he remains staring at his baby Guinness in defeat with his hands on his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” Becky calls out, quickly reaching for her drink and downing it. However y/n and Arthur had already finished theirs within just over a second.

Cal claps his hands together and declares: “Arthur and y/n win the race! Get ready to arm wrestle.” They lock eyes and reposition themselves ready. Both feeling a little heated from the eye contact, but they know it’ll make for good shots for the video.

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

“Don’t go easy on her Arthur!” Chip chants, patting Arthur on the back. The pair rest their elbows on the table and clasp hands, immediately feeling electricity from the contact, and hoping the spark isn’t visible on camera.

“You’re toe-ing… you’re going to do a Fe-FAIL!” Arthur stammers, the baby Guinness going straight to his head. The players laugh, including himself. Y/n cackles with her head down. Arthur squeezes her hand slightly to bring her attention back to the game. She lifts her head back up, locking eyes with him again and attempting a deadpan face. “Someone mute this TV, it-“ but she bursts out laughing before finishing her sentence. Arthur lets out a ‘pfft’ laugh, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes together.

“This is painful,” Chris chuckles, rubbing circles into his eyes with his hands.

“Indeed it is,” Cal adds, “Ready? Start on ‘go’.” The pair’s eyes meet again, y/n slightly turns her wrist to make the wrestle harder for Arthur and gives him a small squeeze. Arthur bites his lip and furrows his brows in response, staring at their connected hands. Y/n is seemingly unaware of just how strong Arthur with his sleeper build, although she’d never tell Arthur (or anyone for that matter) that she’s seen a lot of edits where he is shirtless.

“Three, two, one, go!” Cal calls. Immediately y/n seems to have the upper hand for a few seconds, Arthur’s hand mere inches from the table. Chris and Chip cheer Arthur on, telling him to pick up the slack. Meanwhile, George and Becky chant y/n’s name and smack the table in rhythm. Arthur’s face is contorted as he struggles, watching y/n as she stares at their hands. As soon as she glances back at Arthur, he suddenly smirks and slams her hand down on the table. “Oh my god!” Chip calls out, perking up and slamming his fists on the table with excitement.

“Outstanding. Arthur wins the arm wrestle, which means Bone Appetite wins this video’s pub golf with 7 points!” Cal declares gesturing to his right at the champions. Y/n’s still staring at Arthur with a wide mouth and still with her hand pinned down under Arthur’s. One cameraman zooms in to capture Chip and Arthur’s celebratory reaction, as Chip shakes Arthur’s shoulders and cheers until his voice breaks. Only then does Arthur realise he’s still holding y/n’s hand, giving her hand a couple of small squeezes again before letting go and giving Chip a hug.

Y/n smiles and pulls her hand away to applaud the winners with a smile, alongside the other players. Cal then turns to the girls. “And well done to The Fe-Mails, second place with 8 points!” He exclaims before clapping. Y/n and Becky both let out some ‘woop’s before throwing their prop envelopes in the air like confetti. Arthur and Chip then clap for them.

“Aw commiserations ladies” Chip taunts the girls, his clapping slowing but increasing in volume as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“Ah shut up you, you barely did anything!” Becky retorts.

“Yeah,” y/n joins in, pushing his baby Guinness closer to him. He fake gags and presses his head into Arthur’s neck.

“They’re bullying me Arthur!” He cries against him.

“Not gonna lie, you kind of deserved it,” Arthur replies giggling, watching y/n laugh.

The crew head outside to do their final clips, one by one they partake in the same interview they did before the pub golf games started. The question being a slight variation: ‘How did you fare today?’

Chris’s answer validates his answer at the beginning. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he chuckles and bluntly answers: “We did shit.”

George’s answer is a stark contrast against his initial confident response. “I would’ve won if it wasn’t for that hobbit” he jokingly states with his arms crossed, his head gesturing towards his paling teammate.

Chip’s nonchalant ‘we’ll do alright I think’ from before was also very different to his new response: “We fucking smashed it, I knew we would!”

Arthur sticks to his dog theme with his answer. “We had fun and were the winners, in dog years this means we had seven times the fun… and seven times the wins” he exclaims with a big smile.

“I think we did fantastic, we would’ve won if it were me doing the arm wrestle, but we still smashed it!” Becky answers, confident as ever, pumping a fist towards the camera.

Lastly is y/n’s final answer. “I bloody loved it,” she chuckles, “I had the best time with the best people, I… had the best time!”

Chris struggles to get through the outro for the video while the others stand either side of him, smiling. The film crew stop recording and put their kits away, all heading back into the pub to have their own drinks, and the players follow them. Chris and Cal sit at a long table with their crew, whereas George, Chip, Becky, Arthur, and y/n head towards booth beside them. Arthur gestures for y/n to slide into the bench first, and he follows suit. Opposite them slides in Chip and George. “Guys my uber is here!” Becky announces. She says her goodbyes to everyone, calling y/n her partner in crime as y/n leans across the table to give her a hi-five. Arthur looks down to his lap shyly as y/n’s face was dangerously close to his during Becky’s farewell. “Have fun y/n” she says in a suggestive tone, before winking at her and leaving the pub. Y/n giggles to herself and readjusts her position.

“What was that about, why’d she say that like that?” Arthur asks y/n, his head tilted and leans closer towards y/n, narrowing his eyes with intrigue.

“Oh, that’s… nothing, she’s just being silly!” Y/n awkwardly replies, unclipping her mic from her collar to put in her pocket.

“Hmm… yeah…” Arthur murmurs, still looking at her suspiciously, but realising he’s still wearing his mic and removes his too. “I’ll give these back to Chris, do you want a drink? Anyone?” Arthur asks, directing the notion to the whole booth.

“I’ll just have a water please,” y/n answers.

“Me too,” George adds.

“If I drink anything else, I’ll fucking die.” Chip murmurs.

“Okay, three waters, I’ll be right back.” Arthur takes the mic packs and heads to Chris’s table. George leans towards y/n with his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his hands.

“Enjoyed the arm wrestle didn’t we?” He teases. Chip copies George’s pose, also awaiting y/n’s reply.

“Actually my wrist hurts now,” y/n awkwardly replies, rubbing her wrist.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t think I didn’t see you two still holding hands way after the arm wrestle was over!” George replies.

“Really?” Chip remarks, “Guess I was too busy celebrating to notice!”

Y/n eyes widen. “You don’t think the cameras picked up on it do you?” She asks awkwardly, “I’m still dealing with the y/n x Becky accusations!”

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe

Part two at the boys’ flat?

Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers?

- Gabby xo

[ragingbookdragon]

Just A Hunk, A Hunk, A Burnin' Love

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I gotta fucking watch TGM again. Enjoy

**********************************************************************

She inhaled and exhaled deeply before she grabbed the door handle to the Hard Deck and took a step inside. A few patrons stepped out of the way as she walked towards the bar, red-bottomed heels clicking with every step.

The silky black dress swayed as she reached the bar and she leaned over, whispering harshly, “Penny!”

The older woman looked up from the beer she’d been pouring, eyes widening as she took in the young airwoman dressed up like she was going out for a night on Broadway. “Angel, look at you,” she smiled. “I guess there is a princess beneath all that grease.”

She felt her cheeks warm as she asked, “Is everyone here?”

“At the pool table,” Penny said and handed her a shot glass full of amber liquid. “Need some courage?”

“Penny…you know what liquor does to me,” she mumbled, but took the shot anyway.

The older woman leaned on the bar and grinned at her. “Which one of your boys are you trying to wrangle tonight?”

She tilted her head and looked over Penny’s shoulder, catching sight of a particularly arrogant pilot rounding the pool table. “Well, it’s, y’know…”

Penny tossed a glance over and smiled. “Ah, Seresin.” She hummed knowingly. “Man like that will break your heart, honey. Be careful.”

“Yes ma’am,” she nodded softly and rounded the bar, coming to stand behind Rooster.

She wrapped her arm around his waist and smiled. “Hi, Bradley,” she greeted, and the man looked over, confusion turning to pleasantry as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

“Hey, Angel,” he smiled, then took note of her outfit, and whistled. “Well, well, look at you.”

Her cheeks heated up again and she looked down. “Stop…”

“You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Bradley…” she whined. “Quit.”

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder again. “Just calling it like it is, sweetness.”

She rolled her eyes at his playfulness when Jake rounded on her side and stood before her, leaning back against the pool table; she felt a giddiness in her chest as she met his gaze.

“Hi, Jake,” she said softly, with a bashful smile.

“So, the grease monkey actually knows how to dress like a lady. Who woulda thought,” he smirked, and she felt her giddiness dip as a new fluster arose in her chest, and she unconsciously tugged at the skirt of her black dress. “Hard to believe you have a pretty face underneath all that oil.”

She pursed her lips, feeling like she’d been slapped in the face; even Rooster scowled at him.

“Hangman,” he griped. “You wanna try not being a dick for once?”

“Just calling it like I see it, Rooster,” he retorted, echoing the pilot’s former words; his gaze dropped to the peep-toe heels she was wearing. “Are those painted toenails? Wow, a lady beneath indeed.”

Shifting on her feet, she cleared her throat. “I heard about the mission you guys are on. Congratulations on being chosen,” she smiled. “You guys are definitely the best.”

Jake snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you go to Top Gun, sweetheart. Not that you would know,” he added under his breath, and she tried to hide her upset at it; Jake looked at her. “So, what’s the deal with the glam? Trying to find your mark?”

Before she could even open her mouth, Rooster stepped up to him, a dark glare in his eyes. “What’s your fucking problem tonight?” he spat. “Why are you riding her so hard?”

Jake didn’t even seem fazed at him. “Look at her, Rooster, she’s obviously here to find a pilot.” his gaze drifted back to her, and he gestured to his mouth. “Little heavy on the lipstick there by the way, sweetheart.”

Rooster’s gaze hardened. “You just get off on being a dick, don’t you, Hangman?”

“What can I say?” he grinned. “It’s in my blood.”

She suddenly felt like the biggest fool and lightly touched Rooster’s arm. “Bradley, I’m going to go to the bar,” she whispered and turned, trying to keep her shoulders set as she walked off.

Rooster opened his mouth to stop her, but he sighed and turned back to Jake, scowling at him. “Seriously?”

“What?” Jake snapped. “I’m not a fucking idiot. You really think I don’t know who she dressed up for?”

“Could’ve been nicer about letting her down instead of ripping her fucking head off,” he retorted.

“Never said I was nice, Rooster.”

“No shit.”

Jake crossed arms over his chest. “It’s so cute how you protect her. Best friends and all that.” He smirked. “Something tells me you have some hidden desires about getting in our mechanic’s panties.”

Rooster’s scowl darkened. “You’re a piece of shit, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Few times, yeah,” he answered smugly.

Rooster waved him off as he followed her to the bar and sat down on the stool next to her.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She sipped the Mai Tai Penny set in front of her. “Mhm, I’m fine.”

“Hangman’s a dick. Don’t let him get to you,” he muttered. “You’re too good for him anyway.”

“I just wanted him to look at me the way he looks at all the other girls,” she said lowly. “I’m so fucking pitiful. God, he’s right…I’m pathetic.”

Rooster practically growled at that. “No, you’re not,” he snapped. “You’re crazy smart. Gorgeous. Funny. Everything a man wants in a woman.” He glared at her. “Sure, we’re top dog pilots, but we wouldn’t be anywhere without you. I’ve never seen anyone take apart an F-18 for fun, put it back together again, and have it run better than it did before, but by God, you do it every damn day.” He thrust a finger into her chest. “Don’t you dare let him make you think you’re just some dumb wrench jockey.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that came across her face at his words and she looked at him. “Thank you, Bradley.”

He nodded resolutely and stood up, taking her hand. “C’mon.”

Letting him pull her up, she asked, “What are we doing?”

Rooster led her to the jukebox and nodded at it. “Pick a song. I say we dance.”

Her smile grew wider as she excitedly scanned the songs before pushing a button and Elvis Presley’s “Burning Love” echoed through the bar.

Rooster grinned and pulled her to the dance floor, shimmying back and forth with his arms around her waist.

He twirled her around, singing, “Lord almighty! I feel my temperature rising! Higher and higher! It’s burning through to my soul!”

Laughter escaped her as they danced, and cheers erupted around them as other couples gathered around them and danced together.

Rooster and she grabbed hands and shimmied back and forth, wide smiles on their faces as they sang to each other, “I’m just a hunk, a hunk, a burnin’ love! I’m just a hunk, a hunk, burnin’ love!”

As the song came to an end everyone began cheering and clapping and she hugged Rooster tightly, resting her chin on his shoulder as she murmured, “Thank you, Bradley.”

He smiled softly, squeezing her tight. “Anytime, Angel,” he said. “Might not be a pilot but you’ll always be my wing woman.”

Pulling back, she replied, “I should probably get back to base.”

“Want me to walk you out?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Nah, you go on back.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek before she waved at Penny and walked off towards the exit.

The night air was cool as she exited and as she took a step down, she heard, “Have fun?”

Her shoulders tensed, and she looked over her shoulder, seeing Jake leaning against the outside wall.

“I did,” she answered resolutely, then added, “Didn’t find a mark though, so, maybe next time.”

Jake snorted and stood up, walking over. “Funny little thing, aren’t you?”

“When I want to be,” she said and turned, walking towards her car.

He followed.

“You know, I’ll take you out if you want.”

She stopped and turned back towards him. “Uh huh. And what’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Jake said.

“Bullshit.”

“Ooo, feisty too.” He waggled his brows. “I like feisty.”

She scowled at him. “Why the hell would I go out with you when you literally insulted me ten minutes ago?”

“Why don’t we just let bygones be bygones?” he offered.

“How ‘bout no?” she retorted and crossed her arms over her chest, and suddenly remembering Rooster’s words, she said, “And just for the record, your ass wouldn’t be up in the air in a jet if it wasn’t for men and women like me who fixed your shit.”

Jake grinned at her. “C’mon, mechanics are a dime a dozen.”

“Mechanics are. Good ones, like me, are not.” She thrust a finger in his chest. “And I may not be a Top Gun pilot but I’m a damn good AM and fuck you for insulting my abilities. I got where I was by working my ass off and I’m fucking proud of it too. Unlike you who rode on the coattails of your family.”

His gaze darkened and he snapped back, “I didn’t ride anything to get where I was. My family name has nothing to do with my position.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she hissed. “World War pilot family? Please.”

Jake glared at her. “Watch it.”

“Or what?” she dared, and he got nose to nose with her.

“Or I’ll prove how I got where I was,” he warned.

They glared one another down and then she dared, “Pick me up on Friday at the gate. Seven o’clock.”

“Fine,” he shot back. “But you better not be in your stupid coveralls. Maybe try dressing elegantly.”

“Only if you wear your dress blues.”

“What, do you want me to take you to the Ritz?” he snapped.

She scowled. “Can you even afford the Ritz?”

“I can,” he growled.

“Prove it.”

“I will.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” She turned on her heel and started stomping to her car when he called out, “And that dress makes you look like a hooker!”

“A hooker you can’t afford!” she retorted and flipped him off as she got in her car and drove off.

Jake glared at her taillights before he huffed a laugh and turned back to go inside the bar.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 10 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

9 months later. . .

“Look who finally made it,” Liam teases when he opens his door.

I scoff playfully and hug him after being ushered into the apartment. “I’m sorry. I know I said I’d be here earlier, but traffic was a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I know.” He waves me off and runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out. “But I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”

I nod and accept the spare key he hands me while slipping into his dress shoes. “Have fun!” I tease when he shrugs on his jacket.

“It’s a business dinner, not a date, Y/N.” He deadpans which makes me laugh and slap his shoulder before he leaves with a final wave and smile.

It’s the end of September and I’m visiting New York for a couple of days since I have some time off before the hockey season begins again.

I’m here to visit Liam— obviously, since I’m staying with him— but also Tara and Sam, who agreed it would be better if I stayed with Liam since they’re apartment is fairly small and their roommate, Quinn, doesn’t know me.

Since Christmas, we’ve only seen each other once, three months ago, at one of my hockey games which Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad came to see after they all collectively moved to New York.

I was happy to see them again, and glad we were once again living in the same time zone, but there was an underlying tension the whole time we hung out because things between Sam and I haven’t been the same ever since Christmas.

While Tara and I are in contact almost daily, Sam and I barely even talk once a week. It’s not for her lack of trying though, it’s because I’ve distanced myself ever since I realized it was hopeless to think the two of us could ever be a thing.

I gave up on her, doing exactly what Tara told me not to do, and I even tried to move on, but that didn’t work out as planned.

I went on a couple of dates here and there, and hooked up with several people, but I just can’t get over Sam even though nowadays we’re barely even friends.

The only reason we could still be considered friends is because of our backstory and because Tara connects us. Other than that, we’re back to the way things were when Sam first returned to Woodsboro, and being like this hurts even more than when she was simply gone.

Those five years were undoubtedly the most painful years of my life, but now everything is so much worse. I thought I’d gotten Sam back, I thought we could finally be something, but all of that hope shattered as soon as she said she’d never do long distance. She also never acknowledged how Richie exposed my feelings for her, which makes it abundantly clear that she’d rather just forget about it and move on as friends.

I know she doesn’t owe me anything and she’s been trying to stay in contact as best as she can, but I’m just too hurt to let her back in and accept her as just a friend.

I know how stupid that sounds and it’s not my intention to hurt her by keeping my distance, but it’s just how I cope with everything.

With a sigh I enter Liam’s apartment properly and let out an impressed whistle when I realize just how big and luxurious it actually is. When he sent me his address and I saw that it was on the upper west side, I was surprised because living here is usually reserved for the rich and famous, but he explained that his company owns the building and rents its apartments to their employees for a reasonable price.

That doesn’t make it any less luxurious though, and when I take a look in the bathroom and see a rain shower with a view of the twinkling city outside I make a mental note to use it as soon as possible.

Right now, I’m hungry though, so I raid Liam’s fridge, helping myself to a smoothie and some leftover chocolate cake that he has for some reason.

The dinner he’s at right now wasn’t planned, it was a last minute thing his boss organized, but I’m not complaining. Yes, we were supposed to do something together tonight, but I’ll just check and see if Sam and Tara are free instead.

We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow for lunch, but I don’t see why I can’t stop by their place tonight, too.

I pull out my phone and call Tara after gulping down some of my smoothie. She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly call Sam next.

Tara’s probably in the shower or something. . . God knows she loves to take long ass showers. When she lived with me my water bill almost doubled.

Sam picks up after two rings which is not surprising since I can’t remember the last time I called her instead of the other way around.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Her concerned voice makes my stomach twist and I hate how she thinks something’s wrong because I’m calling her instead of Tara.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got into the city and was wondering if I could stop by your place for some dinner since Liam was called into work,” I say.

The sound of traffic on Sam’s end of the line makes me realize she’s not home and I think calling might have been a mistake, but she immediately agrees. “Of course. I’ll text you the address again. I’m not home yet because I just got out of therapy, but Tara and Quinn should be home.“

“Okay. Thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence, but Sam is quick to break it by saying, “Alright then. See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you.” I hang up and exhale slowly.

It’s just Sam, Y/N. Pull yourself together. You’re going to go see Tara and Sam, and their roommate, not just Sam.

The two of us haven’t been alone since Christmas eve and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.

I finish the piece of cake and throw away the empty smoothie bottle before grabbing a zip up hoodie from my bag and heading out of the apartment.

Sam and Tara’s apartment is quite far away, and because I’m not in the mood to call an Uber or take the subway, I take one of the public e scooters standing around, unlocking it with my phone before heading off.

It’s nice getting some fresh air after being cooped up in my car for hours and not even fifteen minutes later I’m in front of the building Sam sent me the address of.

I get off the scooter and park it around the corner, making my way inside the building after getting buzzed in by some random person.

Compared to Liam’s building, this place is a dump, but it seems relatively safe and affordable, so who am I to judge. This is New York after all.

I head up the stairs and knock on the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment, my heart rate picking up with each second that passes until the door finally opens.

Having expected Sam or Tara, I’m surprised when a stranger greets me. It’s a red haired girl, around Tara’s age, with a round face and gray eyes. She’s dressed in only a robe and I momentarily avert my eyes when she reties it around her waist.

“Hi, you must be Quinn,” I say, raising my hand in greeting.

Quinn’s eyes rake over me and she smirks before her eyes snap back up to mine. “Yeah, and you’re Y/N, right?”

I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her hungry gaze. “The one and only,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Quinn’s face softens ever so slightly and her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “So I heard. . . You’re here to see Sam and Tara?” she guesses and when I nod again, she opens the door properly and invites me inside.

“Sam should be here any minute, but Tara is out,” she says.

I frown. “She’s out? Sam said she’d be here.”

Quinn smiles apologetically and goes to say something but then a man’s voice from a nearby room calls for her. “Babe? You coming back or what?”

My eyes widen and I feel heat rushing into my cheeks. That’s why she’s only wearing a robe. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. . . interrupt you and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” Quinn laughs as if the idea is ridiculous and waves me off. “Oh don’t worry. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hooking up.” She eyes me once again with that lustful look in her eyes and bites her lip seductively, squeezing my biceps. “You could join us if you want. The more the merrier, am I right?”

I squirm and pull my arm out of her grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

God, what’s up with her?

I want to ask about Tara’s whereabouts again when the door behind us opens.

My eyes instantly lock with Sam’s and even though I’m nervous to see her again, I’m also relieved she’s here to distract Quinn from making a move on me again.

“Y/N. . .” She hugs me after a moment’s hesitation before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. “I see you’ve already met Quinn.”

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly and avoid looking at the aforementioned roommate. “Mhmm.”

Quinn, having absolutely no shame whatsoever, touches my arm again. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?”

Oh lord. . .

My face heats up again, but Sam is quick to come to my rescue. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow before stepping in between Quinn and me which forces the redhead to let go of me.

“Right. I forgot you don’t like to share.” Quinn laughs, unbothered and turns to head into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I know she can be a bit much sometimes.” Sam glances at me over her shoulder, and I wave her off nervously.

“It’s okay.“

She turns as soon as Quinn is out of sight and I hold my breath at how close she is.

She looks as beautiful as ever even though she looks tired and I curse my heart for flipping in my chest when she picks a piece of lint off my shoulder.

The white off-shoulder top she’s wearing over her tank top looks incredible on her and I have to force myself not to look at her exposed neck and collar bones too much, a task that is incredibly hard because she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for Christmas.

It glints in the low light and even though the knowledge that she still wears it makes my insides melt, it also serves as a reminder why I’ve been keeping my distance.

Don’t get hurt again, Y/N.

I swallow thickly and lean back a little, not missing the way confusion and hurt flashes across Sam’s face before she clears her throat and steps back.

She looks anywhere but at me before asking Quinn, “Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn, who was just about to open a bottle of wine in the kitchen turns with a sheepish smile. “Uh, don’t be mad. . .”

I frown and follow Sam into the kitchen.

“Why would I be mad?” Sam asks and the way Quinn winces slightly at her tone makes my lips twitch with amusement.

“Because you get mad,” she says and I can’t help but agree silently.

Sam does have a temper, however I’m not sure why she’d be mad when Quinn tells her where Tara is as long as she’s not alone.

“Babe?” The guy from what I’m assuming is Quinn’s bedroom calls for her again which makes Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the question of Tara’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.

“Is that Paul?” she asks and Quinn cringes when the guy shouts, “Who the fuck is Paul?”

“Life, I have found,” she says quietly with an innocent shrug, “is all about variety.”

This time I can’t help but smile properly, and Sam chuckles softly, too.

“So, uh, where’s Tara?” she asks after a moment which makes Quinn sigh helplessly, the wine on the counter forgotten as she toys with the bottle opener in her hands.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party.”

Huh. I didn’t think Tara’d be one to enjoy frat parties but I guess she’s young and wants to try everything now that she’s in a new city and in college.

Sam doesn’t seem to agree though and it’s clear why Quinn was scared of her getting mad when she exclaims, “What? I begged her not to go to that!”

I want to tell her that it’s just a party, but she seems to haver her reasons why she doesn’t want Tara there, so I stay quiet.

Quinn sighs again. “And we’ve now arrived at mad. . .”

I try my best not to smile— Quinn’s actually pretty funny now that she’s not trying to sleep with me— and focus on Sam instead.

She seems ready to explode, but gathers herself by taking a deep breath and closes her eyes momentarily. Then she deflates and when she asks, “Do you know if she at least took her taser?” she sounds more worried than mad.

A taser?

Quinn grabs the wine off the counter and pushes the cork screw into the cork before twisting it and opening the bottle. “I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” she says hesitantly which makes Sam huff in frustration and brush past me back to the front door where she grabs a taser from a dresser.

I follow her, knowing she’s going to go back out to look for Tara, and Quinn follows me with the now open bottle of wine in hand, ready to return to her not-boyfriend.

Sam eyes the taser for a moment, her jaw working and I move around her to grab her jacket off the hook for her.

Right as I reach for it though, Quinn says something that makes me freeze. “Oohh. Is cute boy shirtless again?”

My head snaps around so fast, it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap, and my eyes instantly land on what, or rather who, Quinn and Sam are looking at through the window. There’s a shirtless guy, seemingly my age or a couple years older in the apartment right across from us.

I have to admit, he is cute with his neatly trimmed beard and muscular upper body, and I even smile when Quinn’s not-boyfriend asks, “Who’s cute boy, babe?” and Quinn cringes, replying, “Always you. . . sweetie.” But that smile is quickly wiped off my face when I see the way Sam is looking at him.

Her eyes are soft and there’s something like longing written all over her face which feels like a sucker punch to the stomach.

This is why I keep my distance. . . She’s not mine and if she likes this cute boy, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I’m jealous, I’m just hurt and I’m once again reminded to keep my heart guarded.

But then Sam’s eyes snap to me and her face instantly falls and something like guilt flickers across her eyes, but I don’t dwell on it and avert my own eyes, staring at my shoes and fidgeting with Liam’s key in the pocket of my hoodie.

“You guys have been checking each other out for months, why don’t you just talk to him?” Quinn asks softly, and once again, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Sam turns away from the window and I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. “Because. . .” Her voice falters ever so slightly before going on. “That right there is all the romantic interaction I’m ready for.”

Once again a reminder that she’s not over Richie, and definitely not into me. . .

Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn shrug and when Sam says, “I’m going to find Tara, you coming with me, Y/N?” I nod wordlessly without meeting her eye, and follow her out of the apartment after returning Quinn’s awkward wave.

I’m doing exactly what I planned on avoiding, which is being alone with Sam, but my worry for her going out alone outweighs my need to keep my distance, so I silently follow her down the stairs and outside where she pulls out her phone to look up the directions to the frat house.

I forgot you don’t like to share. . .

Quinn’s words suddenly echo through my mind and I frown because Sam and I obviously aren’t a thing, but before I can dwell on it too long, Sam nudges me and starts walking. “Come on, let’s go. The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we can walk.”

I wordlessly fall into step beside her, intent on not talking about what just happened, but she seems to have other plans because after we cross the street she turns to me with furrowed eyebrows and says, “You know, Danny and I aren’t a thing or anything. . .”

“What?” I know she probably means cute boy, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I thought they only knew each other because they live across from each other, but it seems as though they know each other better than that. Also, the fact that Sam is trying to deny that something is going on between them makes me believe there actually is something going.

Which is fine. . . Totally fine. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices.

“Y-you know,” she stutters. “The guy, Cute Boy, he and I, we’re not a thing. Not really— I mean we’re just—“

I stop dead in my tracks and raise a hand which makes her shut up and stop walking as well. “Why are you telling me this?”

She seems taken aback by the harshness of my tone and frowns, so I sigh and add, “I mean, I don’t tell you anything about my love life, so why are you telling me about yours?”

Sam’s frown deepens. “I just— I thought you should know— I mean. . . You’re my best friend.”

I scoff and before I can stop myself I say, “Am I though?”

“What?”

“Your best friend?” I clarify, ignoring how crushed she looks at the implication of my words. “We’ve barely spoken in nine months.”

“And whose fault is that?” she snaps back defensively. She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with a challenging glare.

I know she’s not actually mad, she’s just hurt and she’s put up her guard, so I deflate a little.

She’s right, it’s my fault we haven’t really talked since Christmas, but I’m not about to spill the beans and tell her why.

“Look,” I say softly. “Let’s not get into this now.”

“Why not?” she asks harshly. “Because you can’t just hang up if it gets too much?”

I cringe at that because lately every time she calls and asks what’s wrong I usually come up with an excuse to hang up or ignore her texts.

I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just find Tara okay, we can get into this tomorrow.”

Sam bites the inside of her cheek and the storm of emotions in her eyes makes me believe she’s about to disagree, but then she huffs and turns around to continue leading our way to the frat house.

Long story short, at the party, Sam ends up tasing a guy who tried to drag Tara upstairs in the balls which in turn leads to Tara storming out with the rest of us— Mindy, her girlfriend Anika, Chad, Chad’s roommate Ethan, Sam, and me— hot on her heels.

“Tara, will you stop?” Sam says, sounding irritated as Tara continues to dash ahead. She’s short and has asthma, so she’s not going all too fast, but still. . .

She has yet to realize I’m also here, but I don’t want to get in the middle of what’s about to go down between her and Sam, so I stay back with the others, the twins having greeted me with quick hugs a moment ago before officially introducing me to Anika and Ethan.

“I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara shouts over her shoulder.

“That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you,” Sam argues and even though she’s right, that guy was really sleazy, she didn’t actually have to tase him. Also it looked like Chad had it covered, but I’m not about to get in the middle of this.

“So?” Tara stops abruptly and turns on her heels to face Sam.

The rest of us come to a halt a safe distance away, but I raise my eyebrows at what Tara just said.

“So?” Sam echoes incredulously, voicing my exact thoughts, but Tara is not having it.

“If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision!” she shouts and even though she’s right, it is her decision, I don’t like the way she’s talking to Sam like she did something wrong by trying to protect her.

Sam tenses and I know what Tara just said hit a nerve, but she stays calm and simply nods dismissively. “Okay. . .”

Tara doesn’t seem to be done just yet though because she goes on, “I mean, you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”

Yikes. She’s right, but. . . yikes.

“Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us,” Sam shoots back, her voice relatively calm. “Have you even gone to see the counselor once?”

“No, I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

I sigh and share at look with Chad and Mindy who seem to be hating this just as much as me, if not even more because it sounds like this isn’t the first time the two sisters have been at each other’s throats.

Anika and Ethan just look uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the fight I’d laugh at how ridiculous they look, what with Ethan wearing Anika’s pumpkin hat and Anika wearing Ethan’s ridiculous cardboard helmet that matches his handcrafted chest plate.

“Hey, guys, come on,” Chad tries to step in at one point when Tara accuses Sam of living in the past, but he’s straight up ignored and I shoot him a pitiful look when our eyes meet.

They continue bickering, and even though I agree with Tara that we shouldn’t let something that happened to us for three days define the rest of our lives, I don’t like how she puts Sam on the spot in front of everyone by asking why she’s in New York with the rest of them.

After what feels like hours, they finally stop which is when, out of nowhere, a girl walking by yells, “Murderer!” and throws her drink at Sam.

Sam recoils and chaos erupts. There’s shouting and cursing, and a bunch of accusations thrown at Sam about God knows what, and I’m barely fast enough to rush forward and wrap my arms around her stomach from behind to prevent her from lunging at the girl who threw her drink at her.

Everything is over in a blur and before we know it the grill and her friends have left and the people who stopped and stood around to watch are moving on as though nothing happened.

I let go of Sam as soon as I’m sure she won’t do anything reckless again and step back, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Chad is also holding back Tara.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, but no one answers and Sam even looks away as though she’s ashamed of something.

“Let’s just go.” Tara sighs and turns to leave, grabbing Anika’s and Chad’s arm.

Mindy frowns but agrees and is quick to follow them, leaving Ethan behind with me and Sam, who is currently trying to wring out her shirt.

“Hey, I. . . I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan offers kindly, pulling some tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Sam.

She wordlessly takes them and Ethan awkwardly looks between the two of us for a moment, obviously not knowing what else to do before hurrying after the others.

What an odd kid.

Sam dabs at her neck and hair where most of the drink hit her and she’s about to brush past me to follow the others as well, but I step in front of her and gently touch her forearm.

“Wait.”

Defeated brown eyes find mine, and the way she deflates when looking at me breaks my heart.

I have no idea what that girl and her friends meant when they called her a murderer and when they said she “knows what she did”, but now’s not the time to ask about it.

I take the used tissues from Sam and momentarily stuff them into the back pocket of my jeans so I have my hands free to unzip and take off my hoodie.

“Here, take this.” I hold it out to Sam, who simply eyes it with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and put this on. I know how you hate it when clothes stick to you.” I wiggled the hoodie a little and raise an eyebrow until she sighs and takes it.

When we were kids I found out how she hates wearing wet clothes after pushing her into our pool after school once.

She wasn’t mad at first because it was summer and we both really needed to cool off, but then she got out of the water and her mood immediately turned sour.

She never explained why, but I knew it was because of her clothes clinging to her, so I never pushed her into the water again unless she was wearing a bikini or swimsuit.

“Thank you.” Sam’s small voice brings me back to reality and when I look up again I see she’s already changed into my hoodie. Her shirt is clutched between her fingers to the point where her knuckles are turning white, but I don’t comment on it.

She’s humiliated, sad, angry, and embarrassed, so all I say is, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for her to lead the way and follow the others.

She lowers her chin in silent thanks again and starts walking, and I follow her after quickly darting over to one of the nearby trash cans and disposing of the tissues.

What a night. . . Maybe I should have stayed at Liam’s and watched some TV.

_______________________________________________

We’re in New York, people! And Ghostface is right around the corner. . .

Poor Sam, getting a drink thrown on her, but the way she clapped back at reader on their way to the party? Damn. . .

And Tara hasn’t even acknowledged reader yet hahah but it’s okay, they’ll talk in the next part.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[aptbelle]

FOREST BOY

pairing: earthfairy!jun x female!reader

summary: y/n was a lonely little girl. she had no friends, just her imagination and the forest behind her home to get her through the day. the forest is where she’d run to to escape reality and day dream. one day, after running from her bullies, she meets a strange, yet charming boy, wen junhui. junhui shows her what lies deeper in the forest, and she is amazed. every single day, she goes to the forest just to see junhui, and they spend hours together. one thing y/n had noticed about junhui was that she never saw him outside of the forest, nor did he have any interest in leaving. they spend every day together until y/n has to go away for college. the news breaks junhui’s heart, and he goes away, which hurt y/n in return. four years later, y/n lands a job in her hometown, allowing her to come back home. she is excited to see junhui again, but he is nowhere to be seen, no matter how far in the forest she travels. however, she meets another boy, who is very similar to junhui, or so y/n thinks.

warnings: this story only includes jun and minghao! they are characters in this and not related to the ones irl. lower case intended! this story may have possible angst!

author's note: this is a story i had started on wattpad a couple years ago, but i never published it. so i decided to continue it on here! i hope you enjoy! i am a student, so i will update as much as i can while juggling school.

previous chapter: prologue

next chapter:

CHAPTER 1: HOME SWEET HOME

4 years later…

y/n never realized how blurry the train made the outside world look. the first time she took one on her way to college, she was occupied by a book the whole time. having finished all her books, she was left with nothing to read. she had her headphones on and was taking in the scenery of her hometown.

it’s been years since she came home, with school and summer internships she was very busy. all the hard work had finally paid off, she was finally graduated and began her career for her local newspaper, writing blogs about whatever the managers tell her. her first task was writing a nature article. this allowed her to be able to stay at home, for once.

she felt so guilty for not visiting more, but her parents had busy schedules as well, so hopefully they understood.

it was the end of spring, so everything was in full bloom. y/n had missed all the trees and flowers. her college town was nothing but city; the closest garden was too far for y/n to even consider walking. she reminisced about her childhood and teenage days she spent in the forest, with nothing but her thoughts and wen junhui to keep her company.

wen junhui.

y/n felt her heart skip. junhui. the boy she spent almost every hour with. she hadn’t thought about him in awhile. he was the reason she loved everything about nature. he taught y/n all she knows about the forest. she had created so many memories with him between those trees.

she could not wait to see him again.

y/n remembered how she left him, without a good explanation. she hoped he had come around, and would be happy upon her return.

though it was going by fast, y/n began to recognize the scenery around her. she was almost at her local train station. the stop would be any minute. she paused her music and put her phone away into her purse. she took her headphones off of her ears and put them around her neck.

her luggage was in the overhead compartment. she didn’t have much, just her clothes. she knew her mother would have kept her room just the same. the extra stuff she had around her dorm, she sold for extra money.

just a few minutes later, the train slowed down. the blurred image outside the window became a clear show of the station. y/n stood up and grabbed her luggage’s. she looked around outside, and saw her mother standing there with a sign.

‘welcome home, y/n!’ the sign read. her mother was shaking it around with a smile. her mother was usually the strict type, but where y/n had not been home in a very long time, her mother showed a happier side.

y/n hurried into the middle aisle so that she would not be the last to leave the train. she finally reached the doors to the outside and stepped off the train onto the platform.

she turned her head and instantly saw her mother running towards her.

“my sweet, y/n!” she exclaimed. she wrapped her arms around y/n. y/n missed these hugs so much. it felt so warm and inviting, reminding her of old times.

“hello, mom,” y/n hugged back, putting her head into her mother’s neck.

“i am so glad you are back home,” her mother said, letting go of the hug and putting her hands on y/n’s shoulders. y/n noticed the tears in her eyes. “you look so mature,” her mother continued.

y/n doesn’t think she had changed her appearance that much. she did cut her hair and change her style a bit. then again, her mother hadn’t seen her other than video calls for a couple years.

“thank you, mama,” y/n replied. her mother hadn’t changed at all, aside from the slight gray peeking from her roots. y/n had always been told she was a spitting image of her mother, which was a compliment she always loved to hear.

“was the trip okay?” her mother asked, “i know train rides can get boring after a while.”

“yes, it was alright,” y/n said, “it was nice seeing everything after so long.”

her mother smiled and patted y/n’s arms. “that’s so good to hear.”

y/n’s mother grabbed her stuff. “the car is just this way. don’t worry about driving, i will let you rest.”

“thanks, mama,” y/n replied.

y/n followed her mother to the car. there was a crowd of people at the station. the mother and daughter pushed through the crowd until they reached outside. her mother led y/n just a few more steps until they found the car.

y/n’s mother popped the truck and carefully set her luggage in. y/n walked to the passenger side and opened the door. she was suddenly hit with a nostalgic smell. the car had always kept the clean, new-car scent that y/n had loved. she truly felt at home. she got in the car, shut the door, and strapped the seat belt.

seconds later, y/n’s mother got in, letting out a big sigh. “oh, y/n, i am just so happy you’re finally home,” she said, patting her daughters thigh.

“yes, it’s been far too long,” y/n agreed. her mother started the car and began to drive out of the parking lot. “i’m surprised you aren’t on one of your business trips right now,” y/n continued.

her mother slightly smiled. “i’m scheduled to leave for one tomorrow, and stay gone for a couple days.”

y/n looked down. she knew her mother was very busy, but she had just gotten home. this didn’t upset her, though, she was used to this. this did give her more time to herself. more time to spend in the woods.

more time to find junhui.

“what are you smiling so wide for?” y/n’s mother asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“nothing,” y/n said, “just excited to see an old friend, junhui.”

y/n’s mother furrowed her eyebrows. “y/n,” she said sternly, “i thought you would grow out of that. this ‘junhui’ boy doesn’t exist. you’re too old for this kind of imagination.”

oh, right.

y/n’s mother never believed her when she brought up junhui. y/n didn’t blame her. junhui would never want to come over for dinner, and would only come to her house late at night, never through the front door but through the window. he would always use the same excuse, that his parents didn’t want him going to strangers’ houses.

y/n never met his parents neither, or seen his house. the more she thought, she only ever saw him in the forest. he didn’t go to school, or to town. just the forest. she had always assumed he had been homeschooled. that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“he exists, mother,” y/n said, chuckling, “he was just super shy.”

“super shy and super odd,” her mother replied, “only staying in that forest. no wonder you didn’t get kidnapped.”

already with the scolding. y/n loved her mother, but she knows that junhui was real, no matter if her mother saw her or not.

“plus,” her mother continued, “i never saw him when i went to the forest for a walk. just dead trees. maybe he left when you did, along with the rest of your mind.”

y/n kept her mouth shut, not wanting to further draw out her so called ‘delusions.’ she’d introduce them one day, if junhui was still around, which she hoped.

“are you still planning on keeping in touch with your college friends? i know you said you had made a few,” her mother chimed in.

y/n did make a few friends, but none were too close. she had a roommate in college, but they were far from friends, polar opposites. she told her mother, however, that they were close as can be.

“they’re all busy with their careers,” y/n told her mom, “not much time to talk.”

“ah, i see,” her mother nodded.

before too long, the two reached their neighborhood. everything felt like nothing had changed. their house was in the far part of the neighborhood, so it took maybe another couple minutes to reach it.

it was a comforting two story, accompanied by the wonderous forest in the back. just the sight of the trees made y/n feel safe. so many memories, and more to be made.

“home sweet home!” y/n’s mother exclaimed, pulling up to the house. she put the car in park and unbuckled. “don’t wait too long, you’re room isn’t in perfect shape for nothing!” y/n’s mother hopped out of the car and shut the door. she went around the back and grabbed her daughters stuff before heading into the house.

y/n stepped out of the car as well, looking around at her surroundings. no major changes, but she did notice a car at one of the houses down the street. when y/n left, that house was for sale. standing outside of it was a man who looked to be about y/n’s age. he had a black mullet and glasses. it seemed he was tending to some plants in front of his house. he turned in y/n’s direction, flashed her a smile, and waved. y/n waved back, and he turned back to what he was doing. he had an attractive smile, one y/n would remember, but she had never seen him before.

she turned her focus back to her childhood home, and began to walk in. she opened the door and was greeted once again with a familiar smell. her mother’s favorite scent was vanilla-lavender. she always made sure the house smelt like it. every time she’d smell this scent outside of her home, it made her think of home. now she was finally there.

“go get settled into your room, honey,” her mother said, “i’ll be asleep before too long. i have to leave early in the morning.”

“okay, thank you, mom,” y/n said. she walked up to her mother and gave her a hug.

“y/n, thank you for coming back,” her mother said.

“of course, there’s no where i’d rather be.” y/n let go of the hug, grabbed her stuff, and walked up to her room.

it was the last room in the hall, closest to the back of the house and closest to the forest. the door was shut, and still had the ‘y/n’s room’ sign on the door surrounded by assorted stickers that she put there when she was a little girl. she opened the doors and was flooded with nostalgia.

the bed was still on the left side of the room doused in the blue bedsheets and matching comforter that feels like marshmallows. the bookshelf on the right side still had all the same books that y/n had read a dozen times. the desk next to it was oddly neat. y/n usually had some kind of mess going on on it. the window was placed perfectly in the middle. the window which jun had popped in on countless occasions. the window which y/n had always escaped with him out of. the window showed a perfect view of the forest. she was eager to go for a walk. she needed material for her first article anyways, and the forest would be a perfect spot to come up with ideas.

she needed to unpack first. she set her luggage up on her bed and unzipped it. she didn’t have too many outfits, but she had a lot of lounge clothes. she put all her outfits in the closet ans the random shirts and shorts in the drawers, along with the undergarments. she left one set of lounge clothes out: black t-shirt and grey sweats. she changed out of her current clothes and put the lounge set on. she put on a pair of sneakers she brought with her.

y/n’s door opened. her mother was standing outside.

“i’m heading to bed now, sweetie,” her mother said, “are you settling in nicely?”

“yes, everything’s just the same,” y/n said, “i was going to head out to the forest a bit, find something to write my first article about.”

her mother nodded. “well, if you see you’re imaginary friend, tell him i said hi,” she joked before leaving the room.

y/n hoped she saw her ‘imaginary’ friend. she missed him after all this time, and hoped he was still around. she had so much to tell him about, and she was sure he did as well.

y/n grabbed her laptop and headed out the room. she went downstairs and to the back door. she opened it and headed into the forest.

there had been a perfectly paved path that she’d always take. she had walked it so many times that the grass had never been able to grow there. looking around she had noticed the trees had new vines on them, new bushes had sprouted, trees had grown taller, but she knew it would always be the same forest she basically grew up in.

she walked farther and farther in until something caught her eye: a rose bush. roses were her favorite, and a perfect topic for her to write about. roses symbolized so many different things, and were the cause of many memories with jun, who never forget they were her favorite

—

“tag, you’re it!” junhui yelled as he tapped 14 year old y/n’s shoulder from behind. before y/n could fully turn around, jun had already sped off. he was a lot faster than she could ever be, which is why he loved to play tag.

“jun!” y/n chuckled as she began to run after him the best she could. he was so far ahead that he looked like a tiny speck. y/n’s one goal was to catch up to him, and that was all she was focused on.

not the fact that her shoelace was untied.

she sped her pace up, not taking her eyes off of jun. all of a sudden, she felt her shoe get caught. she looked down and saw that she had stepped on her shoelace, causing her to fall in front of her.

in front of her, unbeknownst to her, was a large rose bush filled with thorns. when she fell, she felt them all prick into her at once. some of the thorns were in her face, arms, and thighs. she yelled out in pain.

“jun, help!” she called out, but he was probably too far to hear. everytime she tried to move, a new thorn pricked her in a new place. she was basically stuck in her favorite flower bush. to most people, it would have been great to be surrounded by their favorite flower, but in that moment, y/n wished to be anywhere else.

“y/n? where are you?” junhui’s voice rang. he must have turned around after he didn’t hear y/n chasing him anymore.

“jun!” she yelled, “i’m in the bush! help!” she peaked her head up as much as she could, and she saw jun in the distance. he was looking around frantically until he finally caught sight of the bush. he ran over to her as fast as he could.

“oh my gosh, y/n,” he said, “how did this happen? are you alright?”

“i tripped over my shoelace, and fell on a bed of roses,” y/n chuckled, “it hurts to move.”

“here,” jun said, putting his hands on her sides, “i’ll help you up.” he began to lift her out of the bush. thorns latched onto her and were stuck in her skin, but most of them were still on the bush.

“oh, y/n,” jun pouted, “you have maybe 20 thorn pricks. i am so sorry we shouldn’t have played this game out here.”

“jun, it’s okay,” y/n consoled him, “i had fun. i always have fun with you.” each spot burned in pain. she looked down at the arms and upper legs and saw many bloody cuts. she reached her hand up to her face, grazing her cheek. she winced in pain, feeling more cuts. tears rushed into her eyes.

junhui grabbed her hand. “don’t touch your face,” he said, “there are more cuts on it.” his dark brown eyes were full of concern and empathy. he wiped y/n’s tears before they got into and of the cuts. “i can fix them for you. make them heal faster.” jun took y/n by the hand once again and began to walk her deeper into the forest.

every step y/n took, her left ankle felt sore. she groaned in pain following behind jun. he took around and took notice of this, stopping in his tracks. “here,” he said, “put your arms around my neck.”

y/n nodded, doing as he said. she put her arms around him, and felt him reach under her legs and lift her up. he began to carry her bridal-style into the forest. “you feeling okay, m’lady?”

y/n smiled. “besides from all these pricks, yes,” she said to her charming friend carrying her, “this feels quite nice.”

“special treatment for a special girl,” jun said. he always had such a way with words, and he was the most caring friend y/n had, the only one to be correct.

“where are we going?” y/n asked. this is the farthest they have travelled in a while, and she doesn’t know what down here would help with her cuts.

“you’ll see,” jun said, “i’ve been meaning to show you this little spot anyways. now we have a perfect reason to go.”

that just made y/n too curious. what could it possibly be?

“and we are here!” jun exclaimed.

y/n looked ahead of them and her jaw dropped. in front of them was a beautiful pond. it was surrounded by vines and trees. the water was so clear. it almost looked blue. it was like an oasis.

“my little- wait,” jun said, “our little paradise.” he smiled at y/n. he carried her over to one of the rocks by the pond and sat her down on it.

“junhui, this place is beautiful!” she said, taking in the scenery.

“isn’t it?” jun said giving y/n a smile. “sit tight and i’ll clean the cuts for you. this is the cleanest water you can find.”

y/n relaxed on the rock as she watched jun at work. he walked over to a bush full of coral bells. they were called such for their bell-like shape. he took one of the flowers off and dipped it into the pond, collecting water in it. he brought the water-filled flower back to y/n, kneeling down in front of her.

jun took two fingers into the flower and rubbed the water over the cuts, wiping away all the blood. the water made the cuts feel painless, seemingly healing them. it made y/n feel at ease.

“you wanna know something?” jun said to y/n, his eyes looking all over her face, “no matter how much your face gets cut up, you’ll still be the prettiest girl in the world.”

y/n blushed. he always knew how to compliment her. he had the nicest and sweetest things to say no matter what.

“you’re a liar,” y/n chuckled as jun finished cleaning all her face-cuts.

“i never lie, m’lady,” jun said, dipping his fingers into the water again. “can i see your arms now?”

y/n nodded, showing her arms to jun, and he began to clean. he took care of them pretty quick, then moved to her legs. just a few minutes later, she was all taken care of. none of them burned anymore. y/n felt no pain.

“there you go,” jun said, “all better.”

y/n smiled at her friend. “jun, sometimes i swear you’re some kind of forest god or something.

jun shrugged and laughed. “something like that,” he said. his face suddenly changed, like he had remembered something. “i almost forgot!” he said as he walked off.

y/n cocked her head to the side. ‘what did he forget? i’m feeling all fine now,’ y/n wondered to herself.

jun was at another flower bush. this time it was another rose bush. he picked one of the roses off, taking the thorns off the stem one by one. he walked back over to y/n. he pushed her hair back behind her ear, and placed the rose there.

“finishing touch,” jun smiled.

y/n smiled. roses had always been her favorite, and jun remembered it. “kinda ironic, don’t you think?” she joked, which made jun chuckle.

“i couldn’t help it,” jun said, “they’re your favorite, and they suit you so well. everytime i see a rose, i think of you. no rose can live up to your beauty.”

y/n smiled wide. she wrapped her arms around the boy. “thank you, junhui, for everything,” she said.

he hugged her back. “of course, m’lady. anything for you, forever and always.”

—

that day just made y/n love roses even more, even though they tore her skin up. after looking at them for a few more seconds, she decided to start typing.

“Roses, often hailed as the "Queen of Flowers," hold a special place in human culture and history. Their beauty, fragrance, and variety have made them a symbol of love, passi-”

a sudden noise behind her caused her to pause typing. she looked behind her, but didn’t see anything. ‘must’ve been a squirrel or bird,’ she said to herself and went back to typing.

“-passion, and admiration across different civil-”

the noise was closer now, and sounded bigger than any squirrel or bird. it sounded like footsteps. the footsteps were then accompanied by a voice.

“well, hello there.”

[sellasstories]

UNFOLD (I)

word count: 2.0k

main characters: cameron brink, hailey van lith

⚠️warnings⚠️

swearing

summary:

cam’s guide to making friends at the fiba U17 world cup (don’t do as she does, though)

hailey’s guide to getting a best friend at the fiba U17 world cup and then helping said friend make other friends

obligatory background pazzi

Cameron Brink is sixteen years old, and it’s nothing like she thought it was going to be. Six years ago, if you’d told her that at she’d be staring at her name on the finalized list of players on a FIBA Basketball World Cup team, she knows she would’ve wrinkled her nose in disgust and gone off to draw or paint. But as she allows a small smile to cross her face as a deep feeling of relief floods her body, she can’t help but look outward.

All around her, the other girls (her future teammates, she thinks nervously) chatter and push each other around in excitement while she stays rooted to the spot, hands fisting the bottom of her shirt in an attempt to not take up too much space. She’s made her choice; this is going to be her life now, so she had better learn to love everything about it. It’s not a sobering realization exactly, just something that she can’t help but see as another hurdle in her journey to feeling like she truly belongs somewhere.

Cam has participated in enough conversations over the past few days to know that everyone else here has lived and breathed basketball practically from the womb, and it only intensifies the disconnect she feels from the rest of the group. She knows she’s good enough to be here, she just hasn’t figured out how to match the assurance and swagger of her teammates that already have the sport running through their veins.

She takes a deep breath, looking more closely at her surroundings. Azzi was one of the more quiet girls, but she’d been nice all week… maybe she’d be good to talk to? Cam takes all of one step in her direction before she sees another blonde practically catapult herself onto the youngest member of the team, freezing her in her tracks. Cam instantly recognizes Paige, the #1 ranked player in their class, and shakes her head. No way she’s getting in the middle of whatever is building between the two of them.

A persistent tapping on her lower back nearly makes Cam jump as she tears her eyes away from the two guards in front of her. She whips around to see Hailey jerking back to avoid getting hit by her braid. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” she says quickly.

Hailey shrugs. “No worries. Can you move real quick, though? All the posts are crowding the list and I can’t even see if my name is on it.” Her tone is casual, but it’s hard to miss her furrowed brows and clenched jaw as she tried to see around the taller girl.

Cam feels her cheeks heating up as she scrambles out of the way. “My bad, um, your name is on there-” she slaps her hand over mouth, realizing that the shorter girl may have wanted to read it herself, “-fuck, I should’ve just let you see, I’m so, so sorry!”

She trails off again when she sees the huge grin on Hailey’s face. The normally serious girl has gone completely still as she beams up at Cam. “What the fuck are you apologizing for? This is the best day of my fucking life!” She shrieks, grabbing both of Cam’s hands and beginning to jump around as her energy returns.

Slightly self-conscious (and wary of her ponytail), Cam hesitates for a moment before joining in. Looking around once again, she accidentally makes eye contact with Fran and is quick to avert her eyes at the slight smirk from the older girl. A Drake song starts blasting from the gym speakers, and as Cam lets Hailey dance around with her, she thinks that maybe she fits in just a little bit.

• • • • •

The Brinks might have been more excited than their daughter, who they needed no encouragement from to start booking flights and hotels so they could watch the whole tournament in Belarus. Cam was grateful to have them there, but disappointed when she learned how strict the team travel policies were.

She knows that she’s probably too old to be wanting to sit next to her mom on the plane, but she misses the comforting presence as the plane speeds down the runway. Luckily, she’s sitting next to Azzi, someone who, in the short amount of time that they’ve known each other, has become something close to a friend. There are certainly worse places to be sitting.

“You good with planes?” The dark-haired girl asks abruptly. “Paige isn’t, she was telling me on FaceTime last night.”

“Yeah, I’ll be ok,” Cam is quick to assure her. “I’m not gonna, like, throw up on you or anything.”

“Mm,” Azzi responds absently, attention clearly elsewhere. Cam follows her line of sight, not surprised when it leads to Paige.

“You really like her, huh?” Cam can’t miss the soft look in Azzi’s eyes.

The guard blinks, carefully smoothing her features. Seeing Cam’s genuine smile, she relaxes a bit. “Yeah, I really do.”

“Well, I hope you get married someday.”

“Married?” Azzi says incredulously. “That’s not even- slow down, we’re just friends.”

Cam raises her hands in surrender. “Whatever you say. I just hope it all works out, really.”

Azzi shakes her head in mock annoyance. “You’re so weird.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Cam knows Azzi didn’t mean anything by it, but it still stings. Not knowing what else to say, they lapse into silence.

Azzi must notice the shift in Cam’s demeanour because she extends an olive branch in the form of a question about the older girl’s mom. The two of them discover that they have more in common than they thought. In between hours of sleep, they’re able to keep up a light flow of conversation about their families, dogs, and mutual love of romance novels.

They’re both soundly asleep when Cam is awoken by repeated tapping on her shoulder. Her eyes fly open and she’s struck with a sense of deja vu when she’s greeted by Hailey’s face uncomfortably close to her own. Slightly unsettled, she instinctively presses her back farther into her seat.

“Finally! I was gonna do something drastic if that took any longer,” Hailey whispers impatiently.

Ignoring her, Cam glances out the window. Sure enough, it’s still pitch black. Rubbing her eyes, she realizes that Hailey has Paige in tow. The two guards are standing awkwardly in the aisle, struggling to keep a low profile.

“What was so urgent that you just had to wake me up at-” Cam checks her phone, “-four in the morning?”

Hailey shrugs. “We have important things to discuss. Oh, and that one-” she jerks her thumb at Paige standing behind her, “-wanted to sit with her girlfriend or whatever.”

“I did not!” Paige exclaims.

“So you didn’t wanna sit with her, then?” Hailey fires back.

Paige throws up her hands in defeat. “Ok, I did, but she’s not my girlfr- you know what, never mind.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hailey turns back to Cam. “Anyway, the whole point of this was getting you to come sit with me.” She extends a hand to the taller girl. “Cmon, I promise we’ll have fun.”

Still a little disoriented, Cam grabs a few things and manages to avoid banging her head on the ceiling as she stands. All the noise and shuffling finally wakes Azzi, who unexpectedly grabs Cam’s arm and pulls her back down.

“What’s going on?” She mumbles sleepily, resting her head on Cam’s shoulder.

The taller girl is a little taken aback, but she hopes that this means Azzi might actually like her. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” she whispers back. “Paige is here, though, and I think I’m gonna go with Hailey for a bit.”

Azzi perks up at the mention of Paige. “Have fun, I guess,” she yawns, already looking for her best friend.

“You too,” Cam can’t resist giving her a playful nudge before she stands up again. This time she does bang her head, cursing as she steps into the aisle.

“It’s still weird hearing you cuss,” Hailey remarks as she leads them to her seat.

“What? I do it all the time,” Cam whines.

“You’re just too… innocent, I guess? It just feels wrong to me.” Hailey finishes buckling her seat belt. She looks up at Cam with a smirk. “Watch your head!”

“Fuck off,” Cam mutters, smiling despite herself.

“Be nice, I left the aisle for your lanky ass. And by the way, still weird hearing you say it,” Hailey nods like she’s just confirmed a hypothesis.

“Are we not the same age? I thought Azzi was the only young one here.” Cam leans back in her seat, eyes already sliding closed.

“I’m a few months older, but that’s not even important,” Hailey tilts her head. “It’s all about the vibe, y’know?”

“I guess, but more importantly, why do you know when my birthday is? Did you stalk me or something?” The shorter girl’s unabashed nod makes Cam pause. “I’d have to imagine that’s a lot weirder than anything I do.”

“I guess we’re both weird, then,” Hailey concedes. “But I had a good reason, I promise.”

Cam raises an eyebrow. “And what was it?”

“Because you’re sexy,” Hailey deadpans, laughing maniacally when Cam turns bright red. “No, for real though, I just needed to find out more about my future best friend.”

“So we’re best friends now?”

“We will be for this tournament, at least.” Hailey says confidently. It’s a statement, an assurance, not a question, and Cam is suddenly jealous of how easily the words come out.

“I’d like that,” she admits, her voice a little quieter than before.

“And I’m gonna figure you out,” Hailey says almost to herself.

Cam laughs self-consciously. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hailey says nonchalantly. She pulls out her AirPods and offers one to Cam. “We can listen to whatever you want.”

The younger girl’s hand stills abruptly. “If I take this, will you tell me what you meant?”

“Fineee,” Hailey drags out the word. “I just don’t get you. You talk to me fine — talk back to me, even — but I don’t think I’ve seen you have a real conversation with even three other people on this team.”

“That’s not true,” Cam protests.

“Who, then?”

“Well, there’s Azzi-“ Hailey rolls her eyes, “-and Paige, I guess? Maybe Hayley?” Cam lowers her gaze in defeat. She plucks the AirPod from Hailey’s outstretched hand. “Fine, I get it.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Hailey makes sure her genuineness comes across. “Just, why me?”

Cam shrugs noncommittally. “It’s just hard sometimes, I guess? Plus, you won’t leave me alone- I don’t mind though,” she’s quick to add. “It’s a little easier with you, somehow.”

Hailey hums, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Wordlessly, she hands Cam her unlocked phone with all her downloaded songs.

They listen in silence for a while before Hailey taps Cam’s shoulder yet again. “Sorry, I can’t sleep,” she sighs. “Who knew that flights over ten hours would be so uncomfortable?”

“Me, actually. I lived in Amsterdam for three years and going back and forth was terrible,” Cam says shyly.

“Wait, are you serious? Tell me everything!” Hailey knows she probably sounds unreasonably excited, but she’s determined to learn everything that she can about Cam.

The taller girl recounts her favourite moments, and the conversation jumps from there, somehow getting to how Hailey got her seatmate (Hayley, the irony isn’t lost on either of them) to go sit with Paige’s seatmate (Fran) so that her and Paige could then end up next to Cam and Azzi respectively. She takes credit for remembering that Hayley and Fran are both committed to Stanford, and Cam giggles while giving her a round of applause.

When they both start to drift off, Cam lets Hailey settle on her shoulder, and it feels like the start of something. The younger girl doesn’t realize it, but since she and Hailey sat down, she hasn’t missed her parents at all.

[bluecaitjinx]

caitjinx (canon-divergent) headcanon - chronic pain

here’s a short headcanon i did as a writing warm-up (and because i wanted to write some fluff).

1k under the cut ~

jinx experiences chronic pain as a result of the life-saving shimmer transfusion she received after the fateful skirmish on the bridge. it manifests as a constant, dull ache throughout her body accompanied by occasional migraines (made worse/triggered by her hallucinations and psychotic episodes).

when the pain gets to be unmanageable, jinx will stay in bed for most of the day, wrapped up in her and caitlyn’s plush duvet and surrounded by pillows. given how stubborn jinx usually is when it comes to taking care of herself, caitlyn knows that the pain must be particularly bad if she finds jinx burrowed under the covers midday.

caitlyn is always on the search for elixirs, holistic medicine - quite literally anything that isn’t magic to help alleviate jinx’s suffering. the only thing that has brought jinx some minor relief is an herbal supplement caitlyn had imported from ionia (her father’s suggestion). even so, it has become clear to both jinx and caitlyn that there is no “cure” or fix-all solution. the best thing they can do is focus on pain-management.

——

“darling?” caitlyn’s voice comes in the form of a low murmur inches away from jinx’s ear. she wasn’t aware that caitlyn had joined her in bed.

“hmm?” jinx hums groggily, followed by an unsatisfying yawn that cuts a little too short. when she cracks her eyes open, squinting in preparation for the bright afternoon light to assault her senses, she’s grateful to be met with darkness. caitlyn must have drawn the heavy drapes that work surprisingly well as blackout curtains.

the woman in question pulls back just enough to meet jinx’s questioning and disoriented gaze. jinx looks adorable nestled in the blankets that dwarf her petite frame, but the small smile that graces caitlyn’s lips at the sight softens sympathetically when jinx winces in pain.

“hey. i just wanted to come in and check on you,” caitlyn explains, continuing to speak quietly as to not cause jinx any more distress. she lifts her hand from where it rests in between them on the mattress to comb her fingers through jinx’s unruly bangs sticking up every which way. “have you taken your supplements, yet?”

at the mention of “supplements,” a soft whine of protest escapes the back of jinx’s throat. her bottom lip subsequently juts out in a pout as she leans into caitlyn’s touch, desperate for any modicum of comfort she can get. it’s difficult to see caitlyn’s face in the near pitch black of the other woman’s bedroom, but jinx still manages to detect a glint of amusement in caitlyn’s icy blue eye.

“no…” jinx admits with a reluctant mumble. she pulls the duvet up to her chin with a stilted movement and a hiss. “it hurts to move.”

caitlyn’s chest clenches at the thought jinx being in so much pain that she can’t so much as sit up to swallow a pill. after tucking jinx’s hair behind her ear, caitlyn tenderly caresses jinx’s cheek with her palm and a brush of her thumb against lightly freckled skin. the pit in caitlyn’s stomach shrinks when jinx’s pout morphs into less pitiful, unconscious frown. “that’s alright, my love. i can help you take it whenever you’re ready.”

jinx’s eyes slip closed once again as she slowly exhales through her nose and gives a resigned nod. the warm weight of caitlyn’s hand somewhat soothes (or rather distracts from) the persistent pain that has sunken its claws into the bluette. pain akin to the feeling of molten lava crawling through her veins and creeping into the confines of her skull. its intensity varies on any given day, but it’s currently just shy of boiling.

she hates feeling this helpless. this weak. this vulnerable.

jinx supposes, however, that if anyone is going to see her in such a state, she’d want it to be caitlyn. despite all that they’ve been through and all of the hurt they’ve inflicted upon one another, jinx has come to trust caitlyn like no other. aside from proving their loyalty to one another on countless occasions since the formation of their friendship-turned-relationship, jinx finds it remarkably easy to trust someone who has never knowingly lied to her.

like jinx, caitlyn is brutally honest, often to a fault. there is no beating around the bush with her. no chance of deception - jinx highly doubts caitlyn would be able to tell a convincing lie if she tried. when caitlyn hated jinx, she said as much. and now that caitlyn loves jinx, she says as much and means it.

jinx is shaken from her wallowing and momentary reflection by the feeling of pillowy lips pressed to her forehead. the corner of her mouth twitches up into a faint smirk, but she keeps her eyes shut, savoring the gentle affection. “gonna kiss it better?” jinx teases good-naturedly and snorts when she feels caitlyn begin to smile.

caitlyn breaks away briefly to hum in response, “it’s worth a shot.” as promised, she plants yet another kiss onto jinx’s face, this time on her girlfriend’s cheekbone (the one not covered by caitlyn’s thumb). then, a kiss on the apple of jinx’s cheek. then, on the tip of her nose. and the bridge. then, between her eyebrows before switching course to her temple.

instinctively scrunching her nose at the onslaught, jinx wriggles ever so slightly in her blanket-cocoon. each peppered kiss is softer than the last, leaving a trail of pleasant tingles in their wake. the ache felt deep in jinx’s bones is made tolerable by the puffs of caitlyn’s breath punctuating every peck, the quiet giggle caitlyn lets loose when she accidentally noses jinx’s eyelid, and the scent of caitlyn’s perfume that jinx bought her when traveling abroad.

jinx wishes caitlyn could scoot closer and hold her, but to be touched any more than this would be unbearable.

when caitlyn eventually concludes lavishing jinx with her love, jinx finally allows her eyes to flutter open. her heart thumps a little harder at caitlyn’s gap-toothed grin. “is that it?”

caitlyn knows jinx is only joking, but she releases an indignant huff regardless. under normal circumstances, caitlyn might have lightly poked or pinched jinx for being cheeky and ungrateful. instead, caitlyn simply moves her hand back up to the bluette’s hair, petting the tufts of cyan locks that have grown out since the buzzcut. “don’t tell me that i didn’t cure you of all your ailments,” caitlyn quips dryly.

“no, you’re right. i’m totally cured. actually, i think i’m gonna go do a backflip off of the roof and land in a split,” jinx deadpans without moving a muscle, which successfully elicits a chuckle from caitlyn.

“it’s remarkable how you still manage to pretend as though my affection is a nuisance,” caitlyn muses to herself, a knowing smile stealing across her lips. she props herself up on her elbow while continuing her ministrations and gazing down at her bed-ridden girlfriend. “but you’re a bad actress, darling.“

after a beat, her expression becomes sympathetic once more, and she adds in a whisper, “i do wish i could take your pain away, though, jinx. more than you know.”

unused to such heartfelt declarations, jinx’s knee-jerk reaction (and defense mechanism) is to make fun of caitlyn for being a sap. thankfully, jinx has enough presence of mind and impulse-control to not give into the urge. “i’m fine, cait,” she insists earnestly. “sure, it sucks ass, but it’s not the end of the world. we both know what that actually looks like.”

caitlyn’s smile turns rueful at the reminder of all of which, and all of whom, they have lost.

“that we do.”

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: A Stroke of Intimacy - One Shot

Author’s Note:

I’ve been seeing some set pictures pop up again, and it’s made me miss Hank, so here’s a piece I’ve had sitting in drafts for a while.

Word Count: 5,304

Masterlist

The attic at my mum’s house smelled like old wood and dust, with just the faintest hint of lavender from the sachets she insisted on hiding in every corner. It had been years since I’d been up here, but it looked almost exactly the same—a time capsule of mismatched furniture, faded holiday decorations, and boxes full of forgotten treasures that Mum had always sworn she’d sort through “one day.” That day had apparently come.

Mum had roped us in to help her with a long-overdue clear-out, claiming she’d finally reached her limit with the clutter. “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is anymore,” she’d said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess. “It’s time to let go.” Whether or not that would actually happen remained to be seen, but Hank, of course, had jumped at the chance to help.

Now, a couple of hours in, I was starting to think he regretted it. From my spot on the landing, I could hear him shuffling around up there, the occasional curse muffled by the beams as he ducked and dodged low-hanging obstacles.

“You alright up there?” I called, grinning to myself.

“Never better,” came his reply, tinged with sarcasm. “Your mum’s got enough Christmas decorations to start a department store, by the way.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Tell me something I don’t know. Did you find the box labelled ‘mystery trinkets’? That’s her favourite.”

There was a pause, followed by a muffled groan of exertion. “If by ‘mystery trinkets’ you mean twenty different snow globes, then yes. Got it covered.”

Mum appeared at the bottom of the stairs just then, holding two mugs of coffee. “Is he still alive up there?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye.

“Barely,” I replied, loud enough for Hank to hear. His exaggerated sigh echoed down to us, making us both laugh.

It had been Hank’s idea to turn this into a full-day event, complete with lunch breaks and frequent coffee runs. “Might as well make it fun,” he’d said with that easy smile of his, already rolling up his sleeves before Mum could even ask for help. It was one of the things I loved most about him—the way he made everything feel lighter, even tedious chores like this.

“I’m almost done!” Hank called down, his voice slightly breathless. A second later, there was the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floorboards, followed by an impressive thud.

“Hank?” I called again, my tone edging toward concern.

“Fine!” he shouted back. “Nothing broken. Except maybe my pride.”

Mum chuckled, shaking her head as she handed me one of the mugs. “He’s a keeper,” she said with a knowing smile before heading back to the kitchen.

By the time Hank finally emerged, hauling the last box down to the landing, he looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a particularly vengeful spider. Cobwebs clung to his hair and shirt, and there was a faint smudge of dust on his cheek. Despite the state of him, his grin was full of smug satisfaction, like he’d just conquered some great feat.

“Last one,” he announced, dropping the box with a dramatic flourish. He wiped his hands on his jeans, glancing at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re welcome.”

I bit back a laugh, stepping closer to brush a stray cobweb from his shoulder. “You look like you just survived a horror movie.”

He swiped a hand through his hair, only managing to make it worse. “Pretty sure your attic’s haunted. I’m half convinced I heard something whispering ‘leave while you still can.’”

“You’re fine, drama queen,” I teased, plucking another cobweb from his shirt before reaching up to brush the smudge of dust from his cheek. “It was probably the lavender sachets.”

His expression softened, and for just a moment, he leaned into my touch, his cheek pressing lightly against my hand. The simple act sent a pang of warmth through me, but before I could dwell on it, he straightened, flashing me a lopsided grin. “Don’t know what you’d do without me.”

“Get the boxes down myself?” I quipped, earning a mock glare.

As I glanced down, my attention caught on the label of the box he’d carried down—my name, scrawled in my teenage handwriting. “Hang on,” I said, crouching beside it. “This one’s mine.”

Hank followed me down, crouching behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his curiosity palpable as he peered over. “What’s in it?”

I shrugged, peeling back the tape. The smell of old paper and charcoal wafted up as I opened the flaps, revealing a stack of sketchbooks, some loose papers, and a few half-empty tins of pencils. “Looks like my old art stuff.”

“You used to draw?” he asked, his voice soft with interest.

I nodded, flipping through one of the sketchbooks. “Yeah, all the time. I took art class in school—actually thought about pursuing it for a while before vet school won out.”

He kissed my shoulder, his lips warm and soft against my skin. “Why’d you stop?”

I hesitated, skimming through the pages. “Life, I guess. Vet school took up all my time, and then… I don’t know. I just kind of fell out of the habit.”

Hank didn’t say anything, just hummed thoughtfully, his breath brushing against my neck as he studied the page I’d turned to. It was an old drawing of a bowl of fruit, complete with the wonky shading I’d never quite mastered. I laughed softly at the memory, tracing a finger over the edge of the paper.

“That one’s not bad,” he offered, his chin nudging my shoulder.

“Not bad,” I echoed with a smirk. “Wait till you see the next one.”

I turned another page, showing him a rough sketch of a model seated on a stool, her pose casual but elegant. “We did a lot of life drawing back then.”

“Life drawing?” he repeated, his brow arching with interest. “Like people?”

“Yeah. We had a different model every week. It was… fun. Relaxing, in a way.”

Hank hummed again, his eyes lingering on the sketch. “You’re really good.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I was okay. It’s been years, though.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still be good.” He pressed another soft kiss to my shoulder, his lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You ever think about picking it up again?”

I shrugged, closing the sketchbook. “Maybe. Life’s been busy.”

Hank didn’t say anything else, just nodded thoughtfully, his arms giving my waist a gentle squeeze before he stood. I could see the gears turning in his head, but at the time, I didn’t think much of it.

A week later, I came home to find the apartment eerily quiet.

“Hank?” I called, stepping into the living room and setting my bag down on the sofa. My voice echoed slightly, the usual hum of music or clatter from the kitchen conspicuously absent. “You here?”

“In the bedroom!” His voice drifted down the hall, warm and inviting, with a trace of something that made me pause. Curiosity piqued, I slipped off my shoes and followed the sound, my steps slowing as I approached the door.

When I opened it, I stopped in my tracks.

The space had been transformed. The bed had been pushed to one side, replaced by a single stool set in the centre of the room. A soft, golden glow came from the table lamp in the corner, bathing the space in warmth, the light catching on a makeshift easel positioned at the perfect angle to the stool. Beside it was a neat stack of fresh paper and an array of pencils and charcoal sticks, all arranged with careful precision.

And then there was Hank, standing by the stool in nothing but a pair of black boxers, his arms crossed over his chest, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He looked like something out of a magazine, the sharp lines of his body softened by the warm light, his posture both casual and confident. My breath caught as I took it all in.

“What… what is all this?” I asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind me, the words tumbling out in a mix of awe and disbelief.

He shrugged, the grin widening just a bit. “Thought I’d surprise you. You said you liked life drawing, and I figured… well, I could use a bit of sitting still. Not something I’m particularly good at.”

I blinked, my heart swelling with affection. He wasn’t joking—he’d really gone through all this trouble just to recreate something I’d casually mentioned in passing. My throat tightened as I struggled to find the words. “Hank…”

“It’s no big deal,” he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “Just thought it might be fun. You’ve been working so hard lately, and… well, you deserve a break.”

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, but I managed a small, wobbly smile. “This isn’t just ‘no big deal,’ Hank. This is… really thoughtful. Thank you.”

His grin softened, and he gave a little shrug, suddenly almost shy. “So… you up for it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I crossed the room to run my fingers over the pencils. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

“Yeah, but it’s only fair,” he said, his tone teasing but genuine. “You’ve always got my back. I just wanted to do something for you.”

The warmth in his words settled over me, filling the space between us with something soft and intimate. I reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked up a sheet of paper and placed it on the easel. “Alright,” I said, my voice steadying. “Let’s do this.”

Hank’s grin returned, this time with a playful edge. He stepped over to the stool, dropping onto it with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, coach. How do you want me?”

“Comfortable,” I said, smirking as I selected a pencil. “But… maybe sit a little straighter. Hands on your knees.”

“Bossy,” he muttered, adjusting himself with mock reluctance. Finally, he settled, his posture relaxed but composed, and the sight of him made my breath hitch. The light from the lamp painted soft shadows over his shoulders and chest, highlighting the lean definition of his muscles. There was something about the way he sat there, completely at ease under my gaze.

“Like this?” he asked, his brow arching in a way that made my heart flutter.

“Perfect,” I murmured, swallowing hard as I brought the pencil to the page. My hand trembled slightly, the weight of the moment pressing on me, but before I could make a single mark, Hank spoke again.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

The laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it, loud and sudden, and I had to put the pencil down for a second, wiping tears from my eyes. “Oh my God, no talking.”

He winked, leaning back slightly. “Gotta keep it fun.”

Still smiling, I picked up the pencil again, letting the familiar rhythm of sketching take over. At first, it felt awkward, my strokes hesitant, my mind too caught up in the fact that I was sketching him. But as the lines began to take shape, the old familiarity returned, the movements soothing and exhilarating all at once.

Hank stayed still, his eyes soft and steady as they followed my every movement. The quiet stretched between us, comfortable and filled with the sound of pencil on paper. Every now and then, I’d glance up, my gaze lingering on the curve of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks, the way the light played over his collarbone.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured after a while, his voice breaking the spell.

“Hmm?” I glanced at him, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

“Drawing. You’ve got this… focus.” His lips curved into a faint smile. “It’s kind of hot.”

I laughed, shaking my head as heat crept up my neck. “You’re supposed to be still.”

But the longer I worked, the harder it became to focus. The lines blurred as my mind wandered, and I found myself watching him more than the page. There was something intoxicating about the way he sat there, so open and vulnerable, he looked so effortlessly beautiful it made my chest ache.

I set the pencil down and stepped around the easel, my feet carrying me to him without a second thought.

Hank’s eyes met mine, a spark of curiosity lighting up his gaze as I stopped in front of him, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Finished already?”

“Not quite,” I said softly, reaching out to brush my fingers along the curve of his shoulder. His skin was warm, his muscles taut beneath my touch, and the way he leaned into it made my breath catch.

“You’re supposed to be drawing me,” he murmured, but his voice lacked any real conviction.

“I think I’m done with that for now.”

I closed the distance between us, my hands finding their way to his jaw as I tilted his face up to meet mine. His breath hitched, and then his hands were on me, sliding around my waist, pulling me into his lap in one fluid motion. The warmth of his skin seeped through my clothes as our bodies pressed together, and I couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped my lips.

His gaze flickered to my mouth before meeting my eyes again, I leaned in, my lips finding his in a kiss that was soft and tentative, a gentle exploration, slow and full of promise.

Hank’s lips parted under mine, the soft brush of his tongue coaxing me further, drawing me into the warmth of him. My hands slid up from his jaw to thread through his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as I tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His grip on my waist tightened, anchoring me against him, the heat of his bare skin beneath my palms sending a shiver down my spine.

He kissed me like he had all the time in the world—slow, deliberate, his lips and tongue exploring mine with a precision that made me forget everything else. The makeshift studio, the forgotten sketch on the easel—it all faded away, leaving only the quiet, electric intimacy between us.

I shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his hands as they slid lower, settling just above the curve of my hips. His thumbs brushed against the hem of my shirt, teasing the skin there, and I felt his breath hitch as I broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Hank,” I murmured, my voice catching as his hands moved, slipping beneath the fabric to rest fully against my skin. There was something about the way he touched me—like he couldn’t bear to be separated by even a thin layer of clothing—that made my heart ache.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then another to the line of my jaw. His lips trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot just beneath my ear, and I felt myself melt, my fingers tightening in his hair as a soft sigh escaped me.

“Every time,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and rough. “Every time, you undo me.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, my chest tightening with the overwhelming need to show him just how much he meant to me. My fingers slipped from his hair to cradle his face, gently guiding him to look at me. His eyes searched mine, softening as they held my gaze.

“Do you even realise what you do to me?” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. My thumb brushed over his cheek, tracing the faint stubble there. “It’s not just the way you touch me or kiss me—it’s everything. The way you care, the way you make me feel seen, the way you make me laugh when I need it most.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as though my words caught him off guard, but the corner of his mouth lifted in that lopsided smile I loved so much. “You know that goes both ways, right?” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something vulnerable. “You’ve changed everything for me, Y/N. You make me feel… whole. In a way I didn’t even know I was missing.”

Hank’s lips curved into a soft smile, his blue eyes holding mine as his hand brushed lightly over my back. “You know, I still think about that night you walked into Paul’s,” he said, his voice quieter now, reflective.

I tilted my head, my fingers idly tracing a line along his collarbone. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” he replied, his tone gentle but insistent. “It’s not every night someone like you walks into a place like that. You… stood out.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t feel like I stood out. I felt completely out of place. I wasn’t even sure why I went in. I just…” I hesitated, the memory of that night still vivid. “I couldn’t face another night of being alone. I needed to do something different.”

His hand stilled against my back, and I glanced up to find him watching me, his gaze soft and unguarded. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad you did. That night… it felt different the second you walked in.”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Different, huh? What, you don’t get random women walking into your bar all the time, asking you to surprise them with a drink?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not like you.” His voice dropped slightly, taking on a more serious note. “You weren’t there to impress anyone. You didn’t try to be something you weren’t. You just… were. And I don’t know, it caught me off guard. In the best way.”

I felt my cheeks flush, the sincerity in his words making my chest ache. “I remember seeing you as soon as I walked in. You were leaning against the bar, looking like you owned the place.”

His grin widened. “What can I say? It’s my natural state.”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed softly. “You looked so at ease, like you belonged there. And then you caught me looking, and… I don’t know. It felt like you could see right through me.”

“That’s because I could,” he said simply, his hand sliding up to cup my face. “You walked in looking like you’d rather be anywhere else but there. But at the same time, you stayed. You didn’t turn around. You sat down, and you let me surprise you.”

I smiled, leaning into his touch. “It was a good drink.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “It was an Old Fashioned, not exactly revolutionary.”

“Yeah, but it was exactly what I needed,” I said, my voice softening. “And so were you.”

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the steady hum of the city beyond the window. Hank’s thumb brushed over my cheek, his gaze searching mine. “You know,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful, “sometimes it feels like… fate.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Fate?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. “I mean, think about it. You could’ve walked past Paul’s that night. You almost did. But you didn’t. You came in. And I just happened to be there. It feels like… like we were supposed to meet.”

I blinked, his words settling over me like a warm blanket. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic,” he said with a shrug, though his eyes betrayed the depth of his belief.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You might be right. Maybe it was fate. Maybe I was meant to walk into that bar, and you were meant to be there, leaning against the counter, looking at me like you already knew me.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was slow and full of unspoken emotion. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, his hands steady against my back. “Whatever it was, I’m glad it brought you to me.”

“Me too,” I whispered, my heart swelling in my chest.

I smiled, brushing my fingers along the curve of his jaw, my heart aching with how much I loved him. “It’s funny,” I said softly. “Sometimes I think I’m the one who’s got it all figured out. Then you go and do something like this—set up an easel in the middle of our bedroom just because I mentioned I used to draw. You always know exactly what I need, even when I don’t.”

Hank’s hands tightened on my waist, his grip grounding me as his gaze held mine. “It’s not hard,” he said simply, his tone filled with quiet sincerity. “Loving you? It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

The way he said it—not as a grand declaration but as an unshakable truth—made my chest tighten, my throat burning with the weight of my emotions. I kissed him, my lips brushing over his in a soft, lingering caress. His hands moved, sliding up my back as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss until I was completely lost in him.

I broke away just enough to rest my forehead against his, my fingers tracing light patterns along the back of his neck. “I don’t say it enough,” I murmured. “But I hope you know how much I love you.”

The corners of his mouth curved into a soft smile, and he brushed his lips over mine again, the kiss tender and unhurried. “You show me every day,” he replied, his voice steady and full of quiet conviction. “And I’ll never stop showing you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I let out a shaky laugh, resting my hands on his shoulders as I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Hank let out a quiet chuckle, his hands moving to cradle my face. “Funny,” he said, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing since the moment I met you.”

I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I felt for him into it, and his response was immediate, his arms wrapping around me like he couldn’t bear to let me go. The kiss deepened, his lips and tongue coaxing me into a slow, deliberate rhythm that made the world fade away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just full of quiet, unspoken promises, every touch and caress saying what words never could.

And in that moment, with his hands steadying me, his warmth grounding me, and his love surrounding me, I knew with absolute certainty that he was it for me, just as I was for him.

Hank’s hands slid up my sides, his thumbs brushing over my ribs before they settled on the buttons of my shirt. His gaze met mine, quiet and intent, as if asking for permission without words. I gave a small nod, my breath catching as his fingers deftly undid the first button, then the next, his movements slow and deliberate.

He leaned forward as he worked, his lips pressing soft kisses to my skin with each button he freed. The hollow of my throat, the curve between my ribs—his mouth left a trail of warmth that sent shivers cascading through me. By the time he reached the last button, my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

The shirt slipped from my shoulders, pooling behind me, but Hank didn’t rush. His hands came to rest at my waist, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin there as his lips found the swell of my chest. He kissed me slowly, unhurried, his mouth lingering as though he wanted to savour every inch of me.

“Stand for me,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with need.

I did as he asked, my knees trembling slightly as I rose to my feet. Hank followed the movement with his hands, sliding them down to the waistband of my trousers. He knelt in front of me, his fingers hooking into the fabric as he began to ease them down. His lips brushed along my hip as he worked, his touch sending sparks dancing over my skin.

When the trousers pooled at my feet, he held onto my hands lightly for balance as I stepped out of them. His hands lingered, steadying me before trailing back up my legs. His lips followed, brushing kisses along the bare skin of my thighs, his gaze never leaving mine.

Once I was free of the last layer of clothing, Hank rose to his feet, his hands finding their place on my hips again. The heat of his skin against mine sent a rush of warmth through me, and when his mouth captured mine, it was slow and deliberate, his lips moving against mine with the kind of unspoken devotion that made my chest ache.

We didn’t speak as we shed the final barriers between us. My hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, my fingers trembling slightly as I pushed them down. He stepped out of them easily, his hands steady on my waist as though he could sense my nerves and wanted to ground me.

Together, we made our way to the bed, the world narrowing to just the two of us. Hank lay me back against the sheets, his body following mine as he settled over me. His hands moved with a tenderness that felt all-encompassing, tracing the curve of my waist, the line of my thigh, as though committing every part of me to memory.

His lips found mine again, their movements slow and deliberate, a quiet exploration that deepened with each passing second. He kissed me as though we had all the time in the world, his touch reverent, his body pressing into mine with a warmth that left me breathless.

When he finally aligned himself, the tip of him pressing at my entrance, he paused, his eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver through me. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed inside, the stretch of him filling me completely, stealing the air from my lungs. A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, his jaw tightening as he stilled, letting me adjust, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.

The warmth of his breath fanned over my lips as he exhaled shakily, his hands tightening on my hips as if grounding himself. His voice was low and rough when he finally spoke, the words barely audible. “Perfect,” he murmured, his tone filled with reverence.

He began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, every thrust deliberate and precise, the pressure of his body against mine igniting a fire that spread through every nerve. My fingers found their way to his back, tracing the hard planes of muscle as they flexed beneath my touch. His movements were unhurried, each one coaxing a soft sound from deep in my throat, a sound that only seemed to spur him on.

I gasped softly as his lips found the curve of my shoulder, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed his way up my neck. His hips pressed forward again, a little more insistent, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped me, my head tipping back to give him more access.

His lips traveled down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, pausing to suck gently at the sensitive skin there. Each touch of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I could feel the way his breath caught against my skin whenever I moved beneath him. My fingers dug into the broad expanse of his shoulders, holding onto him as the slow, steady rhythm of his hips began to build.

“God,” he groaned, his voice low and gravelly, the sound making my stomach tighten. His hands shifted, one sliding up to cup the side of my neck, his thumb brushing over my jaw as he tilted my face toward his. His other hand gripped my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist, anchoring me closer as he moved. The sounds he made—soft groans and low, broken murmurs—wrapped around me, adding to the symphony of the moment: the creak of the bed, the rustle of sheets, the whispered breaths that passed between us.

I couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping me—the soft cries, the whispered breaths of his name. His hips pressed deeper, the angle sending a rush of sensation through me that made my toes curl. His mouth captured mine in a kiss that was all-consuming, his tongue sliding against mine with a deliberate slowness that made my entire body tremble. The air between us was thick with heat, each shared breath feeding the fire that burned between us.

His pace quickened slightly, his movements growing more insistent, the tension building with every roll of his hips. My body arched into his, chasing the friction, the heat, the undeniable connection that bound us. His groans grew louder, mingling with the broken whimpers that spilled from my lips, the sound of us filling the room, raw and unfiltered.

When we finally reached the peak together, it was like the world stopped for a moment. His body tensed, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he buried himself deep, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against me. My own release followed, a wave of heat and light that left me gasping, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as my body trembled beneath his.

He stayed there, his weight a comforting pressure against me, as we both caught our breath, our bodies still entwined. The room was quiet save for the sound of our breathing, the stillness wrapping around us like a cocoon, the steady beat of our hearts slowly evening out as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. His hand brushed along my side, his thumb tracing idle patterns over my skin, grounding me in the warmth of him.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his lips curving into a soft, almost shy smile. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I love you sweetheart,” he murmured, the words carrying the same quiet sincerity as every touch and kiss that had come before.

I smiled, my hand sliding up to cup his face as I leaned in to kiss him again, slow and tender. “I love you too,” I whispered against his lips, the words a quiet promise, an anchor in the aftermath of the moment we’d just shared.

“Can we stay like this?” he murmured, his voice hushed and filled with quiet wonder.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around him, holding him close as we sank into the stillness together. My fingers traced light patterns along his back, a quiet rhythm that mirrored the way we moved moments before. The world outside faded into nothingness, and I found myself wishing I could capture this feeling somehow—every curve, every line, every breath—like a sketch I’d never forget.

[mrmathmanwr]

okay, tbf, tbf, i gotta defend my dudes here. Inuyasha not only went back to Kikyo due to an INSANE amount of guilt he felt for more or less (in his mind) CAUSING HER DEATH, and wanting to reconcile and console (hope thats the right spelling) her, but also because she was already dead, and he cared too much for Kagome to see her hurt. He wanted to help Kikyo get revenge, and she was already dead as well, so maybe if she died, she’d find solace instead. 

I RANTED SO HARD, PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Kikyo came back hating him, and as we saw in the flashback around chapter 47-ish iirc (one where he is telling the story of him and kikyo's relationship to Kaede) he probably would've felt horrible about this. When he offended Kikyo by saying "I'm not like you." He immediately followed it up by the line "Her face... It looked so utterly alone.... And for the first time in my life, I felt I had done something wrong." Now imagine this reaction, but instead of loneliness, it is sheer hatred. Wishing for nothing but to see you dead. This woman, your only solace in this world, the only person who doesn't see you as a monster, wishing for your death. Imagine that. 

now, going beyond that, he also wishes for this to never happen again to Kikyo, which I think is fair. The entirety of chapter 173 is dedicated to Inuyasha just saying “I don’t wanna see Kikyo have her life fucked over by Narkau again.” and his guilt is shown massively here too, or at very least it is in a line he says. “If he attacks you again… Who will protect you? I’m the only one you have!” He legit is saying “I would feel sole responsible if you died trying to kill Naraku.” He’s already failed her once, and he cannot STAND the thought of it happening twice.

That last part also loops back around to why he doesn’t want Kagome to be around while he’s still dealing with Kikyo, not only because he feels like shit for doing this to her, but also because, as Inuyasha said, he can’t afford her love. Not when love killed Kikyo. (GOD I FUCKING LOVE CHAPTER 176 AWORJAWIRJ) Literally, as he said, “I have to protect her, I have to give my life to Kikyo.” THEN, AS KAGOME HERSELF SAID TO IMMEDIATELY FOLLOW UP, “I know, I can’t compete against Kikyo. Because I’m… I’m still alive.” OMGOEJRAWIORJWAR. I say this with love, not malice, please, read chapter 176 of the manga. If you want, I can provide a link to it, but it alone I think perfectly encapsulates their relationship up to that point. (i am only on the early half of book 7, so I can’t say anything for beyond it.)

And I know you didn’t say this, but he always loved Kagome too. I feel like I really don’t need to explain, but there are SEVERAL occasions in the series where Inuyasha and Kagome only defeat the big bad evil trying to kill the because of their love for eachother. It could be argued that Inuyasha only killed the Thunder Brothers BECAUSE he loved Kagome, and seeing them die sent him into a blind rage, not to mention his reaction when he thought they died because of the thunder blast. The first time he unlocked his demon form was pretty much entirely because Kagome was about to be killed. I could go on but this rant is too fucking long and I am actively not eating tacos because of it.

LASTLY, just as a tiny footnote, I can’t entirely blame him for being salty over Koga. Koga tries to kill him and the gang, steals his girl (literally), puts her in IMMENSE DANGER (as stated previously, his biggest fear,) and then she seems flattered? Not to mention the other times he is constantly gawking over Kagome while FAILING TO PROTECT HER? All he sees him as is a danger to Kagome. still love my boy though, koga fucking rules.

And I am sorry if this whole rant seems angry, it’s not, my brain just wouldn’t let me not write this. Inuyasha’s guilt over Kikyo is something I find so fucking fascinating, and I couldn’t just let this fester and rot in my brain. It was like a tumor, pushing on my skull to get out. anyways i fucking love my dudes, and I hope this makes you love them a little bit more.

Kagome is so strong because I would lose my shit if I was nice to a guy and my crush were to start being jealous and angry and then he turns around and is still all over his former love.

[glitchfang]

sorry for making my dadnoir depressing. i promise its at least kinda cute post-canon

[mildmayfoxe]

i never posted about my follow up re: my boss hole-punching all my journal papers but: it went bad. lol. i brought it up & she immediately started deflecting & acting attacked, telling me she hurt herself punching the holes in the paper & that she didn’t have time to cut me more paper (i never asked for this. for the record. i was ready to laugh it off & let it go & come to a mutual agreement about where my paper should go in the future. like a reasonable adult). and then she canceled the wholesale order for the journals i was supposed to make & SULKED for the rest of the day. and THEN she removed the journals from the wholesale shop entirely. because of my audacity to be like “haha hey i think you punched all my paper by accident :)”

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[obsesssedblerd]

more sukuna with his baby daughter pretty please? 🥺 love the idea of a big evil scary monster being so soft also ily ❤️

Early Mornings

The sound of tiny hands pitter-pattering across the floor wake Sukuna up instantly, and he looks towards the ground to see his daughter crawling towards the bed you two share. When he remembers that she was, in fact, put in her crib last night, he scoffs at her. “How did you escape?” He asks tiredly.

The baby girl stops crawling once she reaches the bed, then smiles when she looks up at her father. She coos, reaching her arms towards him, requesting that he pick her up. Uppies, you called it. 

“That does not answer my question.” 

“Bwah?” she coos again, and Sukuna knows that she means, ‘please?’ from spending countless hours speaking with her.

She pouts cutely, and Sukuna rolls his eyes before giving in, reaching low enough to gently scoop her up in his arm. He carefully places her in between him and you, who is just beginning to wake up. Upon seeing your daughter, you gently smile, still a bit sleepy. “Hi, my sweet girl,” you greet quietly, using a finger to stroke her chubby cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

As the young princess giggles, you look over at Sukuna, who was watching you two closely. You’re always so beautiful, even first thing in the morning when you wake up. “The brat has escaped her enclosure,” he mumbles. 

“...Enclosure?” You snort. “Ryo, please, it’s called a crib. You make it seem like she’s a wild animal.” 

“She may as well be. I knew she’d be crawling around this age, but I wasn’t expecting climbing. That’s the only way she got out. She learns fast.” 

“I expected that,” you say, allowing your daughter to wrap her hand around your finger, her scarlet eyes glimmering with happiness. “She’s the daughter of the king of curses, after all.” The baby yawns, and you laugh quietly, reaching over to your bedside table to grab a spare pacifier. “Someone’s still sleepy. Just wanted to lay down with us, didn’t you?” 

Sukuna watches his daughter crawl across the space between you and him, and he allows her to move into the crook of his large, muscular arm. She curls up and settles there comfortably, and he feels his heart warm at the sight.

She just wanted to sleep with him holding her.

“Aw,” you sigh as the baby’s eyes begin to droop. You place the pacifier in her mouth, which she accepts almost immediately. When she falls asleep, you look at your husband, whose eyes are soft as he stares at the tiny bundle in his arm. “After a little while, I can put her back in her crib,” you offer. 

“No,” he says with a gentle shake of his head, his voice quiet so he doesn’t wake her. “She can remain here. It’s what she wants.” 

You smile sweetly. When it came to your daughter, Ryomen Sukuna was truly powerless.

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.