#dream trying to flirt: YOURE A PROBLEM

[cuubism]

I love your university professors au, the banter is sublime! You did hurt my heart when Dream started walking away after being called "difficult" and we can just tell this must have been something he heard from past partners many times.

ah thank you, i am happy you enjoyed :)

dream's past relationships have been uh.... not the best 😂 he's probably gotten a lot of 'i like you but's in the past. meanwhile, hob is like, *cheerfully* you make my life so complicated! never stop! :D

[eddiesxangel]

Just Peachy | E.M

TJ’s 2K request celebration!

Anonymous asked: Hey i was wondering if i could request a friends to lovers eddie x reader, its romantic and the tension finally breaks, its their first time with each other and the reader absolutely blows his mind sucking and fucking him, shes the best hes ever had and he wasnt expecting it to be THAT good, hes just sprawled out flushed and sweaty like hes seen god 🤭🤭 Im just imagining him trying to get up to pee and his legs give out, he face plants in the hallway, his cheeks just out 🍑 and youre both giggling

wc: 2.9k

Cw: friends to lovers, your and Eddie’s first time together, smut, oral (f + m) , p in v, talks about cuming inside but Eddie is wearing a condom.

Concealing your emotions around Eddie had become increasingly taxing over the past couple of months. Although you've been friends for a little over a year, you couldn't help but notice that something had shifted in your interactions with him.

You felt giddy when you were together. Your face, cheeks, and ears would feel on fire whenever he complimented you. You also found yourself thinking about him first thing in the morning, and when your head hit the pillow, fantasies of you and he would play in your mind until you fell asleep.

The flirting between the two of you was so unbelievably blatant, and any time you innocently did it in front of your friends, they would make gagging noises. You never thought much of it because that’s just how you and Eddie were, that’s how you’ve always been, it was never serious for you, until it was.

It was one particular comment he had made that made it all switch for you. It was late at night, and you and he had been smoking together at his place. He’d told you that “you are the only person in the whole world who makes him feel whole.” You could have kissed him right then and there, and that thought scared you.

Ever since that night, Eddie has always been at the forefront of your mind, especially on the night of that party, when he expressed his feelings for you during a game of truth or dare.

In all honesty, Eddie had been set up by Dustin and Steve. They were tired of hearing him go on and on about you for a year and a half, so they fed Eddie a bunch of alcohol and insisted on playing a game of truth or dare.

Finally, when it was time, Steve asked Eddie, “Who do you like?” He drunkenly but confidently said your name. You hadn’t believed him because he was so drunk, but Nancy reminded you, “Drunken thoughts are sober words.”

When you were both sober the next morning, you marched your way to the trailer to set the record straight. You needed to know if what Eddie said had any slice of truth to it. At first, he refused to even look at you, embarrassed by his actions, but when you confronted him about it, he could only nod his head ‘yes.’

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as he confessed he’d always liked you like that. Like more than a friend. He didn’t want to lose you because you’re one of the most important people in his life.

You didn’t let him finish speaking because your lips were on his. This kiss was everything that you had wanted it to be. It’s the type of kiss you’ve only been dreaming about every night before going to bed.

After one of the best makeout sessions of your life, Eddie insisted he take you out on a proper date before things moved forward because “you deserve the world.” His words, not yours.

Dating Eddie was fun and easy. You were such good friends before, so you were already comfortable with one another, but now you got to steal kisses and hold each other's hands without worry. The only problem was that you’ve been on five dates with Eddie, and neither of you has yet to make a move past steamy makeouts.

It was weird, in a way. He was your friend, and you didn’t want to seem too pushy, and neither did he. You both were too chicken to let one another’s hands roam too far without worrying about the other's reaction.

Eddie didn’t even know if you would want to have sex with him. You said you liked one another more than a friend, but you were you. You are everything to Eddie, and if he fucked this up by moving too quickly, he would never forgive himself. So, he played it safe.

Stolen kisses on cheeks, innocent hand holding—he wouldn’t initiate further than kissing until you wanted, but the problem was that you and he never talked about it, and he was not picking up on your signals.

It was coming to the end of your sixth date with Eddie, and you would be damned if you let the night end with you in your separate beds.

Eddie walked you to your door and went for a kiss goodnight, but you stopped him, “I want you to come inside.” You smiled sheepishly, and Eddie, nothing but your local follower, humbly listened to your request.

“Can I get you a drink? You ask as you guide him to your living room couch.

“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his jeans.

You come back a few moments later with two beer bottles in hand.

“Thanks,” Eddie smiles, seemingly more comfortable.

“Eddie, can we talk about something?” You ask nervously as you sit down.

Shit, here it was. You want to go back to just friends.

“S-sure” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the confidence suddenly drained out of his body.

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

“What?” This is not where he thought the conversation was going.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and this is our first date, and we haven’t… you know…” You look down, embarrassed to say what is on your mind.

“Haven’t what, sweetheart.”

You take a deep sigh, building up your confidence.

“Sex.”

“Oh uh-I”

“It’s ok if you’re not attracted to me-“

“What! No! God no!”

“Then why haven’t you made a move?”

“I didn’t want to scare you away…”

“Scare me away?

“ I’m obsessed with you to the point it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“And I’m not obsessed with you?” You counter back.

“I didn’t think you’d be into me like that…”

“It’s all I think about.”

That was the confirmation that Eddie needed to hear.

“So do you uh,” he ears his throat, “want to umm.”

“Yes,” you nod your head enthusiastically.

Slowly, Eddie leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle until you lean in and press into his lips more.

A low moan leaves Eddie’s throat, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as his hands trail up your upper thigh to your waist, pulling your body closer and closer until you are straddled on top of him.

Finally, he was taking control like you had wanted for so long. You pulled away to catch your breath, pushing Eddie’s brown tendrils out of the way so you could latch your lips onto the side of his neck.

“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned.

Your heart skipped a beat with his words; that was the first time he’d called you that, and you yearned for more.

“God, I want you so bad.” his breath had become heavy as his chest pumped up and down.

“You have me, baby,” you bravely let slip the pet name.

“Fuck” he groaned as the blood rushed down to his stiffening cock.

“How do you want me?” Your confidence was growing with each passing touch.

“Fuuuuuck, you can’t just say shit like that to me, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” You pout playfully.

You could feel his cock against your cunt, and you rolled your hips to test out the waters.

“Oooh! You are a dirty girl.” Eddie grits through his teeth as he stills your hips by gripping onto your ass, and a wave of arousal floods your lace panties. The panties you’ve been saving for each passing date.

“Can I suck your cock?”

“Yes,” Eddie blurts out without a second passing thought.

You slide off the couch, and Eddie shifts forward for you before he undoes his pants while you place a pillow under your knees.

The butterflies in your stomach still haven’t settled as you wait impatiently to see what he looks like. From what you could feel in his lap, he wouldn’t disappoint you.

As Eddie shifts the fabric uncovering his cock, your mouth waters with anticipation. You’re mesmerized by the sight of it, it’s long and thick, and the tip is so pink it’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and licked.

Eddie watches as your face turns into a grin as you bite your lip. You’re entirely giddy as you lean forward to take his hard length in your hand.

A soft “fuck” leaves Eddie’s lips as the tips of your fingers brush the shaft and take it into your gentle fingertips.

“You’re so big,” you purr.

Eddie was about to respond but your mouth is enveloping his cock.

“Oh my god,” he sputters. He cannot believe that this is his life, that he is here with you at this very moment. He never thought his most intimate daydreams would one day come to fruition.

Eddie snapped out of his own head as you sunk down lower and lower until you reached the back of your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was too much, so you returned to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, baby!”

There he goes, throwing around that word again, which makes you melt for him. All you want is to please him, to make him feel good.

“You like that baby? You like sucking on my cock?”

Fuck, he has a dirty mouth.

A whiny “mmmmmhmmmmm” fills the room and only enhances Eddie’s pleasure.

You feel his hands grip your hair, pushing it out of the way for you. So ever the gentleman.

“Need to see you, pretty girl.” There was no way Eddie was missing the sight of you taking him in your mouth because a bit of hair was in the way.

Eddie was trying everything in his power to not buck up his hips into you and down your throat. You were making it so hard because you were so good at this. Too good…but Eddie couldn’t let his mind wander about how you are so good at head. No, he will allow himself to enjoy this moment. He’s waited 20 months for this moment.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted as your mother slid up and showed the shaft, swirling your tongue on the tip each time before repeating it over and over and over again.

You can’t help but touch yourself as you’re also pleasuring your boyfriend. The way his words were affecting your body was too much to ignore any longer.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot; I need you; I need you now.” he watched as your fingers slipped between your skirt and your ruined panties, and he couldn’t take it anymore. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Mmmmmm, Eddie, please fuck me.” You remove your mouth and replace it with your hand as you jerk him off.

Your face is dripping with the mix of pre cum and saliva. Your eye makeup was a little smudged from the tears from when you gagged on his cock, but Eddie never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Come here.”

“You going to ride me baby? Show me how much you want me? Or are you going to let me fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Who needs legs anyway” you let out a shaky laugh.

Eddie’s face morphed into a mischievous grin as he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom.

He flopped you on your back, and you landed with a giggle that quickly was cut off by a hot kiss.

Before you knew it, you were both finally naked, and Eddie was taking in every inch of you like he was committing your body to memory.

“Perfect,” Eddie whispered before leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect,” he moved down to kiss your neck. “Perfect.” He muttered into your breast, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth and making you arch up into him. He repeated his actions until he got to your weeping pussy.

“Oh baby, look at you, you’ve been crying for me, haven’t you… You just want so much attention; that’s why you’re so wet for me. Don’t worry. I need you just as badly.” He stuck out his tongue and ran it up your slick slit making you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“There’s my girl.”

Another wave of arousal washes through you at the term of endearment.

“Holy shit,” you try and catch your breath, but his tongue keeps going.

Eddie fucks your pussy with his tongue so good you can’t believe this is real. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and he’s enjoying every last drop.

“Eddie, baby, oh god!” You’re cuming in his tongue before you even comprehend what’s happening to your body.

“Did you just!” He pops up in shock that he was able to make you cum in a few short minutes. In all honesty, he was kinda sad it didn’t last longer. He loved being between your legs. It was his new favourite spot.

A breathy “uh-huh” leaves your chest as you soak in the euphoria.

“Can we…. Do you want to?…. I can—”

“Fuck me. Fuck me now, please. I don’t want to walk tomorrow.” You begged in your fucked-out needy state.

“Keep talking like that baby.”

“I need you so bad; I’ve wanted you to fuck me for so long, please, Eddie.”

You were so long in your begging that by the time you had finished talking g Eddie already had on the condom and was aligning himself with your pussy.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and you answered by pulling him into another long, passionate kiss—one full of wanting and need, one that was much overdue.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie mumbles before he slowly slips himself into you.

The stretch was so good; you had been more than prepared for his cock, so when he entered you, all you felt was pleasure.

“Oh god.” You clawed at his back, biting down on his shoulder, pussy clamping down on him.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” Eddie was already having a hard time fighting off his orgasm as his hips slowly rocked back and forth into you.

“More.” You plead.

Eddie situated himself so he could fuck you like he meant it, to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars.

“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” You had no idea what was coming when it came to sex with Eddie.

He was an animal, a beast, a man untamed.

His hips start getting faster, and his movements are calculated and raw. Each undulation of his hips into you was so delicious you could no longer think. You’re crying out as his cock hits your sweet spot in each thrust. He works his cock into your pussy as it sucks him in each time, taking him in willingly and refusing to let go.

“That’s it, baby, taking my cock so good” he watches as his cock disappears inside of you, gripping onto your soft inner thighs to spread your legs as wide as they can go.

“Look at that baby,” his thumb brushes your swollen clit, “so pretty and puffy for me,” he praises, and your pussy clamps down on him once again.

“Oh, she likes it when I’m nice to her, huh?”

Fuck he needs to stop talking to your pussy, or else you can’t hold on much longer.

“I want to come!”

“Come on, my cock, baby, show me you’re mine.”

That did it for you. Your second orgasm takes over your mind, body and spirit. Your floating on a cloud as Eddie rolls his cock into it and runs your clit so good you’re seeing stars.

Eddie is out of breath, but he still continues chasing after his own orgasm.

“I want you to come,” you mindlessly say, not realizing you're talking.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want?”

“Please! Give it to me, baby,” you pout, and the look on your face sends Eddie over the edge.

Jagged breaths fill the silent room as Eddie collapses on top of you before he rolls over to catch his breath.

“Wow.” Is all you say before giggling.

“Did I rock your world or what.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. It's too bad it took you this long to do it; we could have been doing this for weeks now.”

“Hey, come here,” he drags you into his arms, stealing another kiss.

“I’m going to get a towel.” Eddie sits up on the edge of the bed so he can take off the soiled condom and toss it in the trash.

Not realizing how shaky his legs are, they give out, and he falls forward.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You start laughing.

“God damn, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he laughs.

“And you said I was the one who couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You shriek in a fit of giggles as Eddie lay on the floor, ass up face down.

“You’re a goddamn succumbs, you know that? Sucked the life right out of me.” He laughs into the floor.

“Your ass is like a fuzzy peach, I want t to bite it.”

“Why don’t you come over?” he says, dragging you into his arms. And have a taste, then.

[rafesgfs]

just a friend

he’s just a friend … but.

He’s just a friend, but he sleeps over almost every night. Whether you’re begging him to stay the night because you need a pillow or angry with him for insulting your friends, he’s there on your bed, substituting as a body pillow. No matter what position you fall asleep in, you always wake up draped across his chest, face nuzzled against the crook of his neck.

He’s just a friend, but he spoils you constantly. He gifts you a diamond tennis bracelet when your cat dies, hoping to cheer you up. He buys a convertible when you finally get your driver’s license, grinning when he sees your gleeful face. He showers you with your favorite flowers when get into your dream college. He buys whatever you look at when you take him shopping, repaying him with a kiss on the cheek, and it’s enough for him.

He’s just a friend, but you’re his only soft spot. Everyone else walks on eggshells around him, worried about being in his warpath. Even his own family wasn’t an exception to his hostility, especially after he stopped trying to win his dad’s approval. He does everything you want him to because why wouldn’t he? Hold your bag? No problem. Pick you up from a party? His pleasure. Stop being a rich, egotistical asshole? For you and you only.

He’s just a friend, but he’s your date to every formal and informal function. It’s just easier that way, you both explain to your friends. Midsummer’s preparation goes smoother when you already have a date, someone who will dance with you without complaint, someone who’ll make fun of whatever headpiece Rose is wearing, and someone who’ll sneak out early to drive their dad’s boat to another island.

He’s just a friend, but he knows everything about you. He comes with you to the doctor, dentist, and gyno visits for moral support, sometimes going in the room when needed. You had brought up being codependent but he quickly waves it off. He’s stocked a drawer in his bathroom with tampons and pads, and a few bottles of Tylenol in case you get your period on the nights you stay at Tanneyhill. He carries a cooler filled with water in his car because he knows you hate the intense heat. He wears an extra pair of sunglasses tucked in his shirt for you when you both go to the beach because you always manage to forget yours.

He’s just a friend, but his family thinks you’re dating. Sarah keeps asking you if you are, hoping to drag the truth out. You tell your friend no, laughing at the thought. Ward sits him down to talk after catching him admiring you during breakfast. He stays silent. Rose questions you about what she should give Rafe for his birthday, thinking the same as her husband. You laugh again at the thought, not noticing the way his jaw clenches when you make fun of the idea.

He’s just a friend, but he hates it when guys flirt with you. You’re too pretty to be entertaining guys who are far below you. He strains a muscle from resisting the temptation to punch the man standing too close to you, bicep veins popping out from the resistance. He drags you away when the guy tries to cage you against the wall, making up an excuse, needing help with containing a drunk Wheezie.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t go a minute without thinking about you. When life separates you, despite Rafe’s plans to be at your side twenty-four-seven, he texts you. He ignores Topper and Kelce’s snickers as he pulls his phone out during a round of golf, taking a picture of the sunset to send to you. His friends’ teasing is worth it when you text him back, telling him how much you like his improving photography skills.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t fight the urge to attack the guy kissing you. He blacks out, rage consuming every cell in his body as he breaks the man’s nose and grasps his throat until his hands leave bruises. His brain doesn’t focus until you’re back in his line of sight, blue eyes meeting yours. Despite the man coughing on the ground, surrounded by concerned partygoers, you pay no attention to the injured, instead, pulling Rafe away before yelling at him in his room.

He’s just a friend, but he’s at your door with flowers, apologizing. He stammers out an apology because he was never good at them, and never had the maturity to admit he was wrong and beg for forgiveness. When you stare at him with a blank look, he gets desperate, taking your hands in his and slowly dropping to his knees, eyes pleading with you. He promises to never get that violent again, and you believe him because Rafe Cameron could never lie to you.

He’s just a friend, but he kisses your forehead every night after you fall asleep, waiting for you to doze off before doing so. He presses his lips to your head, warmth in his heart as it yearns for yours.

He’s just a friend, but he wants to be more.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Just had a fun idea but like, what about hcs on how the others would react upon realizing s/o has feelings for Alastor? Like out of everyone they could've fallen for of it HAD to be him kjbgbkjs

Thanks for the consideration and take care of yourself op! Drink water, eat food, and know ur favs adore you!

Everyone finding out that wifey is married to Alastor??? 👀 That's what I heard-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: A little suggestive in the middle bit? Angel helps wifey buy lingerie

Description: ☝️⬆️

You meet everyone at the hotel separately from your husband, so they never make the connection until they actually see you two together

Except Niffty, Alastor just had her trailing behind him one day

"Niffty! This is my darling wife! She is the lady of the house!"

"Neat! I'm gonna go find some bugs!"

"...she's cute, Alastor."

"She's a menace in disguise, my dear~"

When you first met Husker, you were playing cards when he suddenly saddled himself next to you with the kind of confidence that only an overlord has

Luckily, the game was only for fun, the two of you competing against each other in friendly competition

It's a good time between the two of you, you're charming and witty, Husk just eats it up and keeps asking you to play another game

"You're pretty good at this aren't you, beautiful? Do you gamble often?"

You simply hum and politely sip your drink, carefully thinking about how you're going to turn down the overlord

"I don't tend to frequent these sorts of places but my darling husband and I are celebrating so it's a special occasion~"

"Husband?"

"Oh, he's harmless! A real romantic...~"

He deflates a little at the mention of your husband but moves on like nothing happened and that's the last you see of him for a couple of months

That is until Alastor comes home one day looking exceptionally pleased with himself as he sweeps you up into an impromptu dance

"Alastor~! What's gotten into you~?"

"Another victory under my belt, my dear~! You know how you've been saying you always wanted a cat?"

"No?"

"Well, I went out and got you one!"

You barely have time to ask him what he means when suddenly Husk is standing in front of you, looking shocked

"Oh Alastor...tell me you didn't go after him just because he flirted with me a little.."

"Of course not, darling~! I did it beca-he did what now?"

Husk looks around in bewilderment before his eyes land on you wrapped in your husband's arms, pointing at you accusingly

"HE'S YOUR HUSBAND!? You need to look up the definition of HARMLESS cause he ain't harmless!"

You meet Charlie because she quite literally runs into you, tears in her eyes and obviously upset

"I'm so so SO sorry! I-"

"Hey hey...what are you sorry for? Are you okay, my dear?"

You can't help but mother her, wiping away her tears as she tries to excuse her tears as nothing serious

"Would you like to talk about it? I can't just leave you crying out in the street like a lost baby, now can I?"

She sniffles pathetically and nods, letting you guide her somewhere more private

"Y-yes please..."

"Come now, we'll make some hot tea and you can tell me what's got you so worked up..."

You two grow attached to each other after that and make time to meet with each other at least a few times a month

She gets anxious when she hasn't heard from you in a while and calls you whenever she's upset about something, seeking your opinion

You listen to Charlie's problems and try to offer her advice or do what you can to help her feel better, sometimes she just needs a motherly hug

She tells you about her hotel and whether you believe in her dream or not, you support her because she obviously needs it

Other times, you two talk about your respective partners and gossip

"Your husband sounds so sweet! I've got to meet him one day! When he comes back, of course..."

You laugh at her enthusiasm, gently patting her hand to calm the excitable young woman down a little and trying to quell the sadness of his absence

"And this girlfriend of yours sounds like she really cares about you, I'd love to meet her."

You feel compelled to look after her, and Charlie sees you as a source of comfort if not a mother figure to her

So she eventually introduces Vaggie to you because you've been asking to meet her, Vaggie is just excited to meet the famous Y/N

She's heard so much about you from Charlie that she had to see if you were genuine, she had to make sure you weren't using her girlfriend

Only to be taken aback by just how much she ends up liking you, looking to you for advice just as Charlie does

She's geared up, ready to fight, when one day you two are suddenly cornered by thugs out on the street, only to be baffled when you take them out with ease

Just how powerful are you?

"Wait wait wait-how did you pull off that move? I've been trying to learn how to do that for months!"

You're casually fixing your clothes and rubbing your wrist, completely unfazed by the ambush

"It's just a little something I learned from my husband~ Would you like me to teach you?"

"Y-yes! Please!"

She readily accepts, and soon she's just as attached to you as Charlie is, looking forward to the times you agree to spar with her

Her and Charlie talk about how much they love you one night before they go to bed

"So....she's great right?"

"Charlie, I fucking love her."

"Right!?"

You meet Angel at a clothing store, the two of you shopping in the same section when you catch him staring hard at the gloves

"You should try this one, the color compliments you really well, and they're made from a good material."

He jumps in surprise, obviously startled by your sudden arrival, but does genuinely seem to look at the pair of gloves you're pointing out

Angel picks them up and tries them on, seemingly more than pleased with your picks, whatever thoughts that were weighing on his mind momentarily forgotten

"Thanks..! Uh, maybe I can help you pick something out?"

He gestures to the many different lingerie in your basket, you're obviously having a hard time deciding which one to get

You have the decency to at least look a little embarrassed, a soft blush taking over your features and making you look innocent

"Would you? My husband is back, and I just want to show him how much I've missed him..."

Angel guides you to the fitting rooms, obviously excited to be of help, he could be saving a marriage for all he knows!

"Sure thing, doll! You put on each one, and Angel Dust here will tell you which one will knock your man off his feet! If I know anything! It's how to turn a man on!"

Normally, you wouldn't even THINK about showing another man your body in lingerie, but hearing that and having an inkling of who Angel is, you trust him

And it's surprisingly fun! Angel helps you narrow it down to three favorites that are sexy and comfortable, it never once feels creepy or uncomfortable

"Now pose like this when he comes in! Yes! Just like that! Your hubby is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!"

You can't help but laugh, not at all feeling ridiculous but enjoying Angel's antics and enthusiasm

"Thank you, Angel. We should go clothes shopping together again sometime, I had a good time today."

He winks and holds out his phone to get your number before walking away, no longer seeming so...depressed

"And you'll have an even better time tonight! See you later, doll~!"

You two shop together on the regular after that, greeting each other with air kisses and judging people together

"Ugh, do you see the hair on that gal? What an absolute wreck!"

"That hairstyle wasn't even popular when my husband and I were alive...ugh..."

"When am I gonna meet this man of yours anyways?"

"When he stops going to a tailor and agrees to come shopping with me~"

You're laying in bed with Alastor one night, nuzzled under his chin and cuddling in his arms when he suddenly speaks

"You know that little...project I've been working on?"

You're nearly asleep, the feeling of his thumb rubbing your arm soothing you more than he realizes

"Mhm..."

"Well, I was thinking maybe I could take you with me tomorrow...everyone there has been dying to meet you."

You open your eyes to look at your husband, smiling at him as you lean up to kiss him softly

"More people who don't believe that you have a wife? I'll be happy to set the record straight~"

He chuckles and rolls you two over so that he's on top of you, kissing down your neck as his hands push up your nightgown

"I can't wait to show you off to everyone~"

The next day, Alastor takes your arm in his and leads you inside, you're more than a little surprised to see that his project is a hotel

You're a bit shocked to see so many familiar faces in front of you, Niffty running up to hug your leg and Husk giving you a lazy wave

Charlie, Vaggie and Angel are all staring you like you're a ghost, eyes slowly moving from Alastor to you over and over again

Charlie drops her tray of snacks in surprise, rushing up to give you a bone crushing hug while Vaggie stands in front of Alastor as if to protect you

"Y/N! What are you doing here!? Are you here to give redemption a try? Oh, I knew you would come around!!"

You laugh and hug her back while patting her head, gently prying her arms off of you so you can pet Niffty

"It's good to see you too, my dear princess, though I'm here with my husband."

Vaggie's jaw drops, and she whips around to look at you, jabbing a finger at Alastor as you see her trying to digest the truth in front of her

"You! A-and him!? The Radio Demon?!"

Alastor takes the opportunity to pull you back to his side, a loving arm around your waist as you happily lean on him, hand on his chest

"Everyone! This is Y/N, my lovely wife~! Y/N, please tell them all that you're here of your own volition and that you are happily married to the most wonderful demon in all of hell!"

You hear Angel trying to hold in his laughter, obviously flashing back to the many conversations he's had with you about your mysterious husband

"Yes yes, I'm happily married to him and I'm not under any mind control or deal or anything else like that~"

You can hear Vaggie's soul leave her body, Charlie's delighted squeal and Angel's uncontrollable laughter at the sight of you and Alastor rubbing noses in an obnoxiously cute manner

"This is the guy you've been buyin' all those sexy clothes for!? Oh my fuck!! This is too good!"

"I can't believe Alastor was your husband this whole time!! I knew he was secretly a big softie! Oh my gosh! You should hear how he talks about you it's so cute!!"

"...I don't get what you see in him..."

"I don't either, you know that when I first met her, she called him HARMLESS? She's delusional."

"He's a bad boy and she LIKES IT~!"

Your husband looks at you in confusion, gently stroking your cheek

"All this time I spent singing your praises to earn you a decent reputation around here was for nothing? I should've known you'd have stolen their hearts already~"

You smile and kiss Alastor's palm sweetly, earning a chorus of cooing and disgusted noises from your audience

"Actually, I've met everyone here before, darling... it seems we've been unintentionally been keeping our a marriage a secret from everyone!"

Charlie is just so enamored with the way you two interact as a couple, her eyes sparkling whenever she watches you two together

Vaggie is just disappointed in your taste in men and shakes her head whenever you two are affectionate, secretly she thinks it's cute

Angel gets a kick out bugging Alastor about the clothes he helped you pick out, always asking him if he liked the lingerie

Husk is just thankful for the distraction you prove to be for Alastor because then he has more time to himself, encourages you two to go on a lot of dates

Niffty is just crazy as always 😜 She likes you two together though and will stab anyone who tries to separate you two

This one took so long!! I hope you like it!!

[chateaaa]

☆ What dating the blue lock characters feels like (pt 2)

Dating Sae Itoshi includes matching earrings, having your initial dangling in his dominant leg (so every time he scores he dedicates the goals to you), having you in the back of his phone, being mean to everyone but you, buying you everything you want, giving you his password to all his socials, buying you flowers every week, slow dancing in the rain, watching hello kitty with you, kissing you on the back of your hand <3

Dating Shidou Ryusui includes bear hugs!!, slapping your ass every time he gets a chance, biting you randomly, love hate relationship, "shut up" x "make me", would try to be romantic (it does not work), would always expect you watching his games, looking at you in the crowd if he scores a goal, making boys near you cry because he dosnt want them to steal you away from him

Dating Otoya Eita includes kissing you on the neck, painting each other's nails in the color of black, wearing a pink scrunchie you gave him as a joke he now won't remove it from his arm, giving you his hoodie, acts of service, only wearing this specific perfume when you guys meet, pocky game (he would purposely lose)

Dating Tabito Karasu includes flirting with you in front of your friends, matching lego heart keychain, giving you cute random things and saying "my chick number 7 gave this to me, i don't need it so you can have it" that's a lie, he spended 3 days deciding what to give you, carrying you like a sack around, matching sneakers

Dating Alexis Ness includes worshipping you like a goddess, loving every single part of you, carrying an extra ponytail for you, buying you snacks, being very possessive, always wanting to wear matching clothes, words of affirmation and physical touch!!, telling his teamates about how good and kind you are, literally making you experience any kind of dates ex: beach dates, museum dates, stargazing dates, always wanting to touch any part of your body; arms, cheeks, hands

Dating Hiori Yo includes arcade dates!!, winning you stuff toys in claw machines, gaming dates, photobooth dates, physical touch and quality time!!, cuddling while raining, playing games even if your horrible, the beds in minecraft being side by side, carrying you in literally any game, sending you spotify lyrics that he thinks relates to your relationship with him, watching netflix together during summer vacation

Dating Noel Noa includes waking up during weekends with him serving you breakfast in bed, carrying you around like a teddy, all love language, gifting you extravagant gifts everyday, leaving you colorful sticky notes in the counter everyday with daily reminders such as "don't forget to drink water" or "i'm going home late, you should sleep early today"

Dating Ikki Nikko includes only letting you touch his hair, cafe dates, letting you have his drink if you like it more, gifting you a giant teddy on your birthday, would always update you through chat, sending you spotify playlists, handwritten letters, sending memes to eachother, dreaming about being married and adopting 5 cats

Dating Yukimiya Kenyu includes neck kisses!, ranting about all his problems to you at 3 am while cuddling, taking pictures of you every time you go out, his wallpaper being you (he changes his wallpaper every week), just because flowers, photographer x model, always having your favorite food in his bag

Dating Charles Chevalier includes painting each other's nails with the eye color of each other, him only listening to you, sunshine x grumpy, always asking for headpats, booping your nose, watching disney every night before going to bed, expecting you to feed him every time you go out

idk guys kasasu and otoya feels ooc, I THINK IT'S VERY HARD TO WRITE ABOUT THEM SINCE I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE RED FLAGS AND I REALLY DON'T KNOW ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY THAT MUCH..... (sorry karasu and otoya fans 😔😔) but anw hope you all still like it ☝🏻🤓

btw PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SUGGEST ANYTHING TO WRITE IM HAVING WRITERS BLOCK LOL

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

Series Masterlist

He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

[euthymiya]

we’ll have a ball ft. wriothesley

in which you and your boyfriend are due to arrive at fontaine’s most prestigious event, but not before you give him a hand with a slight wardrobe malfunction

contains: female reader ; reader wears a gown ; established relationship ; quite a bit of suggestiveness but overall just fluff ; wriothesley hates fancy events he told me himself, and reader just wants to live her ballgown dreams—he indulges her because he’s a real man ; flirting with wriothelsey using his tie lol ; wriothesley has a brief jealousy induced existential crisis

despite wearing one every day, wriothelsey doesn’t know how to tie a tie.

it’s why it’s so loose around his neck—a stylistic choice, of course, but also a decision based around convenience. he doesn’t need to learn how to tie one if it’s already tied and loose enough to slip over his head. it’s easier that way, letting a complicated set of steps reduce down to just a quick garment to throw on around his neck, allowing him the ability to forgo the trouble of tying it altogether.

you think it’s a rather endearing shortcoming of his, especially when he stands in the mirror confused as he grumbles, fiddling with the material as he tries to properly tie it for once.

“you’re doing that wrong, you know,” you sing, walking up behind him in your gown as he pauses and meets your eyes through the mirror. “you’re hopeless.”

he ignores your quip, gulping slightly as he mumbles, “you look gorgeous.”

“and you look like a fool,” you snort, glancing at the messy knot at his chest.

“maybe they don’t need us,” he licks his lips, spinning around to properly look you up and down without the mirror. a reflection doesn’t do you justice, he thinks, he needs the real thing. “we should just stay here. and do other things.”

“and have lady furina behead us for canceling last minute? i don’t think so,” you wave him off, but your arms slip around his neck as soon his hands grab your hips, letting him pull you flush against his chest as his nose runs along your collarbone, inhaling sharply at the scent of your perfume.

the duke of meropide is, in its own right, a prestigious title. prestigious enough to extend wriothesley an invitation to the annual ball the hydro archon holds for the sake of extravagance. wriothesley manages to weasel his way out of it on most years—but this time, you’ve been newly added to the guest list as well, courtesy of your blossomed relationship with the warden.

you seem far too excited to attend for him to decline in good conscience. love is sacrifice, as they say—and wriothesley can happily suffer through an evening of small talk and formality while sporting an uncomfortably tight fitting suit.

the only problem he can’t manage to overlook so far is this cursed, wretched tie.

“you’re no fun,” he pouts slightly, trailing the tip of his nose to brush along your collarbone until it finds your neck, lips pressing a soft, lingering peck as you hum and play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “i’ll show you a good time. better than a silly ball.”

“that’s a big promise.”

“well, i can think of a way or two to make it worth your while,” he grins against your neck, and you’re certain you’ve memorized that curve of his lips by heart. you can recognize it instantly when it sears against your skin.

“nice try,” you laugh, pulling away as he begrudgingly does the same. he sighs at your dismissal while you reach over to the tie around his neck. “but we’re going. and you need this tie looking…not how it’s looking right now.”

“m’trying my best,” he grumbles, looking away to the side, cheeks dusted a precious shade of crimson that you lean over to kiss gently.

your fingers undo the messy knot at his neck, expertly weaving the tie into a new and neat, flawless knot as you tighten it to fit around his neck perfectly. it’s unlike the loose, rugged knot he usually wears—much more proper, much more professional, much more formal.

wriothesley doesn’t look particularly thrilled at the adjustment, sighing as he watches you inspect his appearance and straighten his collar. your hand smooths over his chest as you give your nod of approval, and he wonders if you can hear his thundering heartbeat under your palm.

if you do, you’re gracious enough to cut him some slack from being teased.

“there,” you hum, “you look quite handsome.”

“does it have to be so tight?” he complains—and then his brows twitch, furrowing deeper as he pauses to look at you briefly with a puzzled look. “hang on. where’d you learn how to tie a tie?”

you raise a playful eyebrow, letting out an amused huffed out breath as you say, “well, you’re not the only man i’ve gotten to know.”

“so you’ve done this before? for another man?” he asks incredulously, miserably looking down at the thin piece of fabric wrapped around his collar as if it’s choked him before he adds, “i think i’ll be taking that dip in the primordial sea like i mentioned.”

“oh, quit being a drama queen,” you swat at his arm, chuckling as he gives you a theatrically pained look before burying his head back into your neck again, hand fitting in the small of your back as he rubs slowly circles into your gown.

“is this punishment for my crimes? because i’ve already served a sentence and according to fontaine laws, you can’t try a man twice for the same crime.”

“if it makes you feel better, i think you of all men pull ties off the best.”

“i suppose it minimally raises my spirits that you think i look good,” he concedes.

he does look good—whether it’s his usual loose, improperly fit tie or the fancy, silk material of tonight, you think wriothesley is most handsome when there’s a thin piece of fabric decorating his neck and chest, perfectly hanging and waiting for you to tug and pull him in.

you decide to demonstrate the wonderful opportunity his attire grants you, too, when you murmur, “in fact, i quite appreciate your habit of wearing ties.”

“oh? is that so?”

“yes,” you say slyly, pushing him back gently as you question, “want to see why?”

“do enlighten me,” he grins, eyes mischievously narrowing, a knowing glint sparkling in them as he waits for you to finish what you started.

so you do—reaching over and grabbing the silk, giving it a firm yank so he leans down, forehead pressing against yours and lips just a few millimeters away as you breathe, “i can do this whenever i want when you wear one. it’s very convenient for when i need a kiss or two.”

“i see,” he nods, his breath fanning over your lips. it’s hot and searing—you shiver at the feeling of him even when his lips haven’t even touched you yet. “well, if it keeps you satisfied, then i’ll have to make sure i’m always dressed appropriately for your needs.”

“well,” you bat your lashes, biting your lip as you give him a cheeky giggle and say, “there’s a good chance i might need something that requires very little attire, too, your grace.”

he closes his eyes, and you stifle a victorious laugh.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he says through a strained groan, leaning in to finally close the gap and kiss you deeply. his lips are hungry, pressing into you for another taste every time you manage to pull away for even a brief moment. you hum against his mouth, cupping his cheeks and holding his face as his fingers grip at your waist and feel the curve of you against him.

you always wonder if you and wriothesley were once the same person in a previous life. perhaps split in two, destined to find each other in the next. it feels like he completes you when you meet like this, pressing against you like one half meeting the other to make a whole.

it’s dizzying, maybe even downright risky the way you kiss so passionately just moments before you need to leave—you’re not sure either of you have the self control to break away if it comes down to it.

luckily, wriothesley travels his mouth to find your jaw after a few more moments, kissing through breathless pants as your eyes flutter open.

“we have to go soon,” you whisper.

“are you certain we can’t just stay here? i promise what i offer will be far more fun than listening to random wealthy folk running their mouths for a night.”

“but we get to dance,” you point out.

he pretends to think about it for a moment before offering, “i’ll dance with you here.”

“no,” you scold, swatting at his shoulder as you roll your eyes, “this dress is expensive. it needs to be appreciated.”

“oh i’ll appreciate it alright,” he drawls, grinning against your jaw as he whispers into your skin, “i’ll appreciate it all night.”

“no. we’re going, and that’s final, you sleaze.”

“hey,” he pouts, pulling away as you reach over one last time to straighten his hair and fix up his appearance, “i’m nothing if not a doting boyfriend.”

“wonderful. then i expect to have a drink in my hands all night,” you wink teasingly, patting his cheek, “you’ll be in charge of grabbing me them.”

he deflates in defeat, grumbling a quiet, “alright, fine.”

“you can appreciate my gown after,” you lean close, whispering against the shell of his ear and making him pause with a hitched breath as you press a kiss to the skin under his earlobe and murmur, “maybe you can appreciate some other clothing i’ve purchased too.”

“well,” he inhales sharply, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along as he nods seriously, “in that case, i look forward to it.”

ok so basically i went to the mall today and i walked past this store with mens suits and one of the posters on the window with the models was a woman pulling a man in by the tie and then i was like oh that’s so me and wrio and that’s how this drabble came to be 👍

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Black Metal and Bourbon (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 8.1k

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, drug usage, mentions of sex & intimacy, dark jokes/dirty jokes, rumors, gossip, past toxic relationship, a shitty Ex, protective!Simon, etc. (18+ mini-series)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slapped the damp rag back into the bar top, the fabric heavy with spilled alcohol and other fluids that you didn’t even want to try and think about. 

“Jesus.” Your muscles ache, neck stiff from having to try and slap a dart from the ceiling where some jackass had been too drunk to attempt and hit the target. The thing was still up there, as you weren’t about to spend your entire night fruitlessly attempting to fix someone else's blurry mistakes. 

You glare over your shoulder, seeing the unconscious form of the man in question being dragged out by his friends presently, his slurring chuckles making him sound like a drowning elephant. Intoxicated yells of goodbye attached to your name make you roll your eyes slowly as they begin being said; you push through the waist-height door to allow you behind the front counter. Your middle finger flips the patrons off before boisterous flirting hits the air.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that—!” Is cut off by the slam of the front doors and you couldn’t be more happy that your boss hadn’t gotten the bolts tightened. 

“Don’t get paid enough…” You grumble, eyes slithering over to the tip jar and seeing the overflow of bills and coins as your fingers wrap the neck of a bottle of Vodka. 

The profit would be split with your coworker even if she’d been gone for more than half a night getting railed by her new boy toy. You can still remember the look she’d given you as she’d walked out during rush hour, her sharp smirk and smug sheen of ‘you won’t say anything, will you?’

Grumbling under your breath, you slip the Vodka back into its slot on the wall racks, while telling yourself you can’t drink on the job; trying to forget the face of the man that had been attached to hers before they’d stumbled to the back alley.  

“Graham Whitaker, you’re such a five-cent sell-out,” you shake your head, sighing heavily into the air that smells like booze and sweat. 

Graham Whitaker—your Ex in every sense. 

You decided to tell your coworker, if she ever showed back up, that the only reason she was getting dicked-down was because it was that man’s plan to try and make you jealous. As if you’d be caught with your pants down over a prick that had cheated on you more times than you could count before you threw his ass out. 

“Not my problem anymore,” your hands move to display themselves in a motion of a settled disagreement before wiping them on your black pants. 

It was late now, of course, with the dart-drunk and his friends being the last patrons that you had to serve. But you’d been in this town a long, long time. 

Sorrel the construction worker came in an hour, Miss Anna-Lee accompanying for her nightly Gin and Tonic before she talked about her late love from the seventies. From there it was three more regulars before closing activities and fighting to get up tomorrow by noon only to do it all over again. 

Over and over and over. 

You lean back on the counter and look across the brown wood and warm overhead lights, behind you, the illumination from the drink rack gives off a dead glow. 

This was your workplace since you'd been of age, and over the years that seemed to drag, here is where you’d stayed. Nothing ever changed in this town—the biggest shock was when you’d broken up with Graham; people hadn’t stopped talking about it for months.

This place was like a prison of slow death and abandoned dreams. Safe to say this was not what you had envisioned for yourself.

You scoff, pushing off the back counter and snatching your rag back up before you can spiral once more.

The stains weren’t going to buff themselves out.

Maybe it was chance that the mechanics shop across the street had shut down, too few employees and too many drug busts. Chance, or fate, whichever it was you chose to believe in that still-air Sunday, it was still a shock to you when you looked out the front window as Sorrel called goodnight through his heavy accent. 

‘SOLD’

“Sold?” Sorrel pauses with one foot out of the door, and he chuckles when he sees where you’re looking in shock, your hand holding a dirty glass. 

“Haven’t heard, then? Few newcomers snuck in under our noses—they’ll be running the place; mechanics!” 

“New?” You laugh. “Who in their right mind would come here of all places?” 

Sorrel shakes his head, grumbling as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket. “You’ll just have to meet ‘em, Doll. Sure you’ll leave a glowing impression.”

“Take that shit outside, you ass. You know I hate the smell.” A smirk graces your dead eyes. 

“Like I said. Glowing.” You glare, but the man slips out of the door quickly and his form passes by the window outside to climb into his truck parked in the street. Two honks from the horn and the older man is off, grizzly-like beard gone just like your boredness. 

New arrivals? 

You blink at the blackened shadows of the street, illuminated by the lights and their tall tree-like bases—the sway of the planted bushes in the boxes outside. Your head tilts at the abyssal building that was once in working order. 

It was a shitshow now, years of abandonment not giving it any helping hand regarding upkeep. The concrete was cracked, the garage door was hanging off of one side, and the front windows had been broken by your Ex’s buddies when they had gotten into a fight like the three-year-olds they were. 

You hum lowly. A hard-chucked set of keys, you recalled. You’d seen it from here easily enough. Hadn't lied to Sheriff Russel when he’d come knocking, and, you suppose, that was why even now the immature posse still tried to scare you by following you home at night to this day.

As if everyone didn’t know where everyone else lived already. 

But back to the current interest for the night. 

“Let’s have a little look-see, then,” you breathe, knowing Miss Anna-Lee would be a good while away like always. You could chance five minutes—it was just across the street after all. 

Shuffling outside, making sure to hold the door until it closes slowly, you step down the single step and stick your hands into your pockets. The night wasn’t hot or cold, simply there like a metaphorical cut on your palm; it wasn’t surprising the more you lived with it, but it still made your skin itch. 

Feet padding, you cross the dead street and take in the long stretch of unkempt grass, stepping onto the broken curb as your shoes crunch broken glass. Long-gone cigarette butts are scattered here and there, the occasional stray bit of metal or trash. Your eyes shift slowly from one brick that makes up the frame to another, the peeling blue color that could use touching up. 

The mural you had painted in middle school had faded a long time ago, just like the great expectations of going into an art career. The eyes of a great gray wolf are only a dark outline that you can’t help but stare at as if a cancer was growing in your brain, hidden behind the reach of green ivy. 

Ripping your eyes away, you ignore the cry of tires from across the town and the pop of an exhaust pipe—the roar of either a car chase by the repeat offender Irene Chaney, or by some stupid kid related to Irene Chaney. 

“She’s gonna wreck one of these days,” you breathe, looking down at your object of intention—the sold sign in all of its red and white glory. 

Your hand snakes out and grabs the cheap plastic, stopping its swaying with a creak and a tilt of your head. 

You just couldn’t understand it—who in their right mind would buy this place? The only thing it would be good as is rubble, at least then some rabbit could make its very dusty home here. 

Sorrel had mentioned multiple people too. 

“Must be up at the B&B then,” your voice carries over the space, the stars twinkling above you as a shadow stands at the end of the cracked driveway. Its hands are in its pockets, tall form bulky with the dark brown leather jacket around its intimidating form. You’re none the wiser, letting the sign drop as you put your hands to your hips. “They better not be fuckin’ dickheads—”

“Mind explainin’ to me why I came to get a drink and now I’m talkin’ to some Bird on my property?” 

You startle, gasp peeling out of your lips as your head swivels as if attached to a string which, in turn, tracks back to the source of a heavy Manchester accent. Grass breaks under your feet, as the gravel of the tone makes you cringe. Your eyes lock on the man who looks like he just came back from a warzone. 

The first thing you noticed was the balaclava and the skeleton detailing, of course, how could you not—the lower half was an inch below those October eyes of the deepest shade of brown you’d ever witnessed. 

Your spine straightens in cautious surprise, hiding the way your hands had clenched as if ready to swing on your Ex if he so happened to be there instead of…this person. 

“Excuse me?” You say, quickly, as if it was forced out instead of a scream. Your face pushes that stern expression back to your face as your throat clears out the hoarseness.

A covered head tilts with its small sliver of pale flesh visible to you—the strong bones of his nose bridge and hidden jawline. The bulk of large muscles and thighs spoke to hard labor, and his booted feet shifted below loose black cargo pants. 

The mask alone caused you a hint of worry in those few seconds of fast study of this phantom’s anatomy. 

He blinks at you slowly, raising the small corner of a dark brow from a respectable distance away.

“Said you’re trespassing, yeah?” Your face gains a sheen of heat, and you glance at your bar behind the stranger, at the bright burn of the lights. 

Taking a stiff breath, your lips pull into a frown as you try to hide your embarrassment.

“Well…a holler would have been just fine.” A fake glare is put on. “What’s with sneaking up on a woman in the middle of the night? Are you some creep or something?”

Those dark eyes stay locked on yours, and for a moment you don’t know if you’ve encountered a statue or not because he doesn’t speak for a moment. 

A puff of breath from his nose. 

“You the bartender, then?” You motion to your nametag above your left breast and grunt. His gaze homes in before he simply says, “Good.”

Without another word, the man turns stiffly before he steadily begins making his way back to the bar; crossing the street with a swift check of the road. You watch him saunter off, jaw slackened and your cheeks hot. The span of his shoulder blades levels out as he rolls his shoulders. 

Where did this guy even come from? The answer was simple, the bed and breakfast was only four buildings down and to the left. Guy must have come in for a late-night serenade with a bottle.

A quick glance is thrown back to the rundown property behind you before you growl and hurry after this individual who currently pushes open the faulty doors of your work. Jogging across the asphalt, you catch the thing right before it closes and slip inside with a puff of air and a shoved-down snap of a sarcastic ‘thanks’. 

Yet, the man is already pulling back one of the bar stools and easing into it when you make it behind the counter. You study him yet again. 

“You’re one of the new mechanics?” Brown-Eyes blinks at you. 

Without missing a beat, he goes, “Bourbon—Kentucky.”

“I asked a question,” you cross your arms, not even for a moment looking away as the silence of the bar sneaks in around you and this strange creature. “Least you can do for a lady is answer it when you act like a damn cat and sneak up on her.”

“You were on my property.” This is leveled out through a grunt, and after a moment of staring, you scoff. 

“I was curious about who had bought such a piece of junk. Guess I have my answer.” Your hand grabs the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, the amber liquid inside sloshing as you turn back and put it into the wood. There’s a fraction of a dead tease that makes the man seem more human than he looks.

“Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?”

“I prefer a solar flair.” You comment dryly and set an engraved glass next to the bottle. Something flickers past the mechanic’s eyes, a quirk to the fabric of his balaclava. 

“On The Rocks or Neat?” Your brow raises and you tilt your head. 

“That even a bloody question? Neat.” You snort, splaying your hands before you grab the bottle as he watches you blankly. 

“Sorry, it's kind of my job to ask.” Your hand shifts and you pour a reasonable amount into the glass, knowing exactly when to stop. As you shift the bottle away, you leave it on the bar top and gently push the beverage to him as his gloved fingers take it up. You repress a small smile at the matching bone gloves to go with the detailing on his balaclava.

“Bartenders always have this much attitude?” The glass is kept in front of his person, carefully held in his large grip. 

Moving back, you go to lean on the back counter. This night was quickly taking an interesting turn. “Only if they’re me.” You sigh. “You have a name, then, Brown-Eyes?” 

The individual snorts at the title, but his eyes narrow on you at the same time as if he was held hesitant at the ability for you to make him. He had an air of casual tension around him, like a dog on a thin leash that can only just manage to meet others and stay his fangs. 

Danger, you pinpoint. The man felt like danger. A riptide; surface tension.

Then why was it that you felt more and more intrigued by the second?

“Simon Riley,” he eases, staring with those numb eyes of his before he tips the glass slightly your way. With the thumb on the same hand that holds the bourbon, he hooks it under his face covering and pulls it up until he can connect the glass to his lips and take down a sip as his Adam’s apple bobs in a swallow. 

On the way back, his thumb drags the fabric back to its previous position as if nothing had happened. The image of pale skin and stubble sticks with you, and your eyes shift away quickly without you realizing it as the glass is returned to the counter. 

“Well, Simon Riley,” you mutter, “welcome to nowhere.”

The man hums, eyes looking you over in a single glance before the gaze shifts to the wall behind your head. He says nothing, and the door opens to the next three familiar customers as you move to take their order. As you slip out from behind the barrier, you grumble under your breath before you slip past Simon to the corner booth. 

“For the record, Riley, I do enjoy seein’ that old place getting taken on. Don’t run it into the ground, would you? And if you need a fresh coat of paint, for the love of all things holy, don’t go down to the Schafersons’ place, you come right to me.” 

Walking casually, you greet the three ladies from the downtown library with a smirk and an easy comment about if their husbands knew they were out so late, to which you promptly got cursed out on good faith. Sharing a few chuckles, you get them started on what they need, all the while feeling those brown orbs now following subtly from the side of their sockets, intrigued. 

Simon wasn’t sure what to make of you, and the same could be said about this town as a whole. A woman with such a future trapped behind her eyes, adventure in her blood, why were you here in a place with nothing promised for it except dying businesses and old faces? This was a place where people came to hang up the coat, not try and rip it off of its peg. 

The children born here with ambitions leave, that was the common denominator. Even Simon could see that. But you? Here you were. 

The man peels his eyes away, taking up his glass again and re-hooking his thumb to his mask. Amber liquid seeps into his mouth, pulling the scars on his lips and cheeks as he swallows it down as easily as water. The bourbon pools in his stomach, sending its honied effects to the back of his mind; it would take much more to get drunk, but that wasn’t what Simon was looking for. 

Perhaps he was just out tonight wondering why he’d left the military for a mechanic’s job and come out here—asking anything for a sign that this was the right decision even as his head echoed with the screams and the gunfire. 

And then he’d seen you standing in front of the fuckin’ worst mechanics shop he’d ever seen that he’d signed the property deed for not three hours ago. Hell, he hadn’t even looked at the place before buying it—Price was responsible for the official financial actions, and the man had made him swear that it was worth it.

But fuck, he’d just needed a way out of the city. Too loud, too unpredictable in that previous shop of theirs right by the busy street. MacTavish and Garrick had been easy to convince; they’d all served together before and had no family over here either. 

A new start thousands upon thousands of miles away. 

Your head pulls up from where you chat with the librarians, hearing the slam of the door as the draft wafts in from outside—a small breeze has picked up. 

Inside walks in your very ruffled, and very well-pleased, coworker, Celina Bell. 

She brushes down her top and black skirt, blinking around with blown pupils until her eyes lock on you. A poisonous smile meets your eyes as you raise a brow slowly—Lord, if this girl didn’t realize that fucking your Ex over some workplace squabble wasn’t something to be proud of, she was really a lost cause. 

Simon only glances over his shoulder before turning back around and tapping his fingers against his glass absentmindedly. 

“You alright?” You ask out of due diligence, sparing the ladies an apology look for them being interrupted. 

“Better than alright,” Celina chuckles, walking over with a limp in her step. “Just scored Graham Whitaker.” She fake pauses, blinking as if in realization that a child would know was taking the piss. Your face is stuck in the expression of boredom. “Wait…you two were involved for a few years, right? Oh, I’m really sorry—I had no clue.”

“Yeah,” you look her up and down and blink at the disheveledness. “Sure. Quite the score.” A pause, her lips pulling back into that smug smirk that reminds you of a weasel. Yet your next words leave her face devoid of blood. “You know he got Chlamydia from Stacy Green a week ago, right?”

A pin could be heard dropping. Brown eyes are firmly stuck to the scene, unsure what to make of it. The ladies stifle their laughter.

“...W-what?”

“Y’know,” you motion a hand to her lower body, walking past her back to the bar. “STD. Chlamydia. Results in—”

“I know what the fuck an STD is, you bitch.”

“Woah,” you whistle, “language.” Your body returns to the counter as loud stuttering is left behind you, the frantic patting of a pocket to look for a phone before enraged feet rush to the exit. “Need a refill, Riley?”

“It can wait,” Simon utters slowly. The door slams shut.

You chuckle, shrugging. “Alright, suit yourself.” 

The man takes the names you drop and files them away, slotting them into his mental database for when he needs to work with these people. Yet, there’s already a sour impression just off of comments alone. Who better to get your news from than a bartender? 

You know everyone's dirty little secrets.

You diligently serve the drinks to the librarians, placing them down carefully before Simon once more has a re-filled glass of his drink. He moves it slightly up in a cheer and gives you a stare as you wipe your hands with a clean rag.

“Seems you know everything ‘round ‘ere.” His accent is what draws you in, and you find yourself eager to hear more from him. 

“I’m easy to talk to,” you respond, shrugging and leaning on the counter a foot or two away as you both watch the other. A smirk overtakes your features. “And I am the one that gives people the drinks.”

“So, what I’m hearing,” Simon raises a brow. “Is that you get ‘em dunker than a man on his execution date.” 

You click your tongue, tilting your head in a teasing manner while maintaining a serious face. 

“Afraid you’ll spill your secrets, Riley?” 

His eyes flash at you, and his lips flicker into a smirk you can hear in his voice. 

“It’ll take more than two glasses of Bourbon to get me talking, Sunshine.” 

Your face shifts away, but the sudden fight with a smile leaves you nearly breathless. 

Who is this man?

“Why are you here,” your question meets his ears as he takes back the last of his drink, stomach filled for the night and his searching, for the moment, abated. 

The glass meets the bar top. 

He grunts. “Needed a drink.”

Your lips pull in annoyance. “You know what I mean. You’re terrible at answering questions.”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble, shaking your head as a low chuckle makes your insides swirl. 

A stack of bills is placed on the counter, and the man stands, grabbing the hood of his black sweatshirt and pulling it up. His gloved hands go to the pockets of his leather jacket with a roll of his wide shoulders. From under the hood, the white of the painted mask glares out from under the shadows that now shroud him. 

You both sneak a glance at the mechanic's shop—a clear view from the front window. 

“See you around, then?” Your head is tilted at him, blinking. You hum under your breath. “I’m going to keep asking you why you showed up in this town, Riley, and I won’t stop until I get an answer.”

Simon quirks a brow, eyes glinting with interest. When was the last time someone had spoken to him like this outside of his boys?

“Look forward to it,” he utters slowly. With a blink and one more dead look, he’s already out the front door and walking back down the street—disappearing like a ghost the same way he had appeared. 

Picking up his cash and counting through it, the librarians across the way snicker, and one calls out, “So, the new mechanic, huh?”

“One more peep and I’m doubling your tab.”

But…you did have to admit, he had been charming…hadn’t he? At least someone here could juggle your attitude.

—

Three days pass with no sighting of Simon Riley, but just because you didn’t see him doesn’t mean you weren’t witness to his aftermath. 

The shop across the street was practically fixed up while you were asleep. 

Where there had been overgrown grass, there was now a cut lawn getting watered by the reach of an angry sprinkler. The fast movement of the spray reaches the sidewalk that was, somehow, still there under all that trash hiding away like a criminal. Stray bricks are gone and stacked into a pile as you pause outside the bar, staring wide-eyed with your breath caught in your throat in the late morning air. 

The ivy over your mural was peeled back—that faded wolf’s gaze locking with yours, unyielding to the calls of time as its canid body stool as a silent sentinel. 

But, on the third day, as you’re going on break before the night sets in, you manage to not only see Simon again but meet two of the other men who’d moved here.

You pick up your feet and jog across the street, hopping the curb as you blink, impressed at the open garage with its fixed and oiled bay door. Inside it was still dusty—remnants of what was left behind in the corners and scattered. But it was getting there. Quickly. 

“Didn’t know Simon was goin’ to sign on such a piece of rusted shite—where’s the fuckin’ outlets?” Gritted Scottish. You stick your hands into your pockets and enter the large opening. 

“If I remember,” you speak, finding the two men standing slightly off to the side as the bulkier one with a mohawk carries a series of extension cords. Cobalt and brown eyes dart to you in shock—the second man of darker complexion sharing a glance with the other in swift confusion. “When you manage to find them, they’ll all be burst.” 

Blank stares are sent your way. 

“Kids would come by and watch ‘em spark when they were bored. No one really cared enough to stop them.” A clearing of a throat meets your ears as you study the room more. 

It was small, with only one main garage for all the repairs, but that wasn’t new to you. The motorcycles were, though. 

Five in total all parked and resting next to one another near the back wall, all in varying shades of black and gray. Your lips twitch at the sight, imagining your late-night acquaintance riding one of them—you dare say that it fit him quite well, and you weren’t that surprised at all by this.

Biker mechanics. It fits the script. 

“Who’s this then?” The Scot asks you, raising a brow as a friendly smirk pulls his mouth up. “Can’t remember bookin’ any repairs today, Ma’am, might have to wait a few more days before we get it all up and runnin’.”

“I can see. No, I work just across the street,” you spare a friendly smile. 

“So you’re the bartender? The bartender.” The second man speaks, grinning kindly as he searches through a toolbox on a small table. He hums, looking playful. “So that’s why Ghost was gone so long.” 

Ghost…? Did they mean Simon?

The skeletal accents suddenly make far more sense.

“Johnny MacTavish,” A hand is leveled out ahead of you, and you take it casually with a muttering of your own name. “Soap’s just fine as well.” 

Your brow quirks, but you only share an amused nod.

The other individual stands and makes his way over, tall and leaner as to where Soap’s more blatant strength is. 

“Kyle Garrick—Gaz. Pleasure.” 

“Just came over to introduce myself,” your hand shifts back into your pockets as you motion with your head back to the bar. “I’m on my break.” 

“Ah,” Soap’s hands move the cables he holds as he loops them into a more storable shape vertically around his elbow and palm. “Last one to meet then is Price—man’s in town gettin’ lunch for us,” he grunts under his breath. “Hopefully a damn set of zip-ties, too.”

“Zip-ties, Mate?” Gaz breathes a chuckle with a fix of the backward ball cap on his head. “C-4 would bloody help more. At least then we can have a clean starting point.” 

“I think we’re fresh out of C-4, unfortunately,” you huff a laugh, motioning around as the men smirk at you, Johnny snorting a chuckle. “You guys have done a pretty good job so far. I can’t remember when it looked this nice in here.”

“Well, we’re honored, Bonnie,” Soap tilts his head as he ties off the cord with one of the ends. “Makin’ me blush.”

“If Simon had just looked at the place before buying it, we might have been able to open sooner.” Gaz huffs, thinning his lips as he glances over the broken window and the peeling paint—the door to the main lobby that has a punched dent in it. “Couldn’t be worse.”

“Well then it can only get better,” you breathe, shrugging. 

Gaz huffs affectionately. “Not wrong there, then.”

You lean forward, tilting your head. “You’ll find I rarely am.”

“Second time you’ve snuck on,” a Manchester accent scares you once more, head snapping to the side as the light spills in from the garage opening. “This a pattern, Sunshine?”

Simon’s brows are raised as those October eyes lock with yours. Gaz and Soap share a look, smirking before the Scot peels off to find a place to store his belongings. 

“Where have you been?” Gaz asks as you glare at the masked man for once again coming up behind you. 

A bag is presented, leaning off three fingers as a glance gets thrown past you. 

“Down the street. Needed these made.” The bag is tossed and Kyle catches it easily. 

You watch as the crinkly plastic is opened and the dark fabric of four black pairs of overalls is produced, each embroidered with their respective names. 

“What’s wrong with the old ones?” Johnny pipes up, brows furrowed. 

“Looks like you got fuckin’ mugged in ‘em.” Simon slides his attention back to you as Johnny curses with a glint of amusement in his blues. 

“Aren’t open yet.” Your face peels back to a stiff annoyance. 

“I can see that, Riley.” You motion to the other men. “I was being polite.”

He grunts while walking past, muttering through a brief smirk, “Doubt that.” 

Your jaw slackens, but you only growl and hold your tongue as you glance the mechanic over. He still had his leather jacket, but a loose shirt took the place of a hoodie. 

“You ready to answer my question?” Simon locks those eyes with yours from over his shoulder before sliding up to the black form of one of the motorcycles. 

Visible to the naked eye, you take in the lack of fairings around the frame—eyeing the pure black metal of the entire engine from any angle that you might move to you’d still be able to see. It was nice. Perfect, even; damn expensive too. While the thought was enticing, you can’t imagine Simon riding it—he seemed more rugged, more…classy. 

“Negative.” You roll your eyes, but Soap speaks before you can retort. 

“Finally takin’ out the CB1000R, Ghost? ‘Bout time.” The brute throws a blank look at the Scot as Gaz utters to you a few feet away before a casual ‘no’ is leveled out through the space.

“He got it months ago,” Kyle’s eyes crinkle. “Can’t seem to take it out for a ride yet. No one knows what he’s waiting on.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” your words confide. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was a fucking fortune—no use collecting dust is what I say.” You hum, shifting back to Simon who taps the seat of the CB1000R before moving past it to an older cruiser with dents and dirt along the sides. This was more him you thought. Rugged and more dated than the first; something you use on long rides to nowhere.

“Maybe he’s just waiting for a special occasion,” you guess.

“Better get on with it.” Gaz moves away with a shrug and a huff. 

Your lips pull in a small smile, and you watch Simon pull keys from his jacket and insert them as he moves to straddle the larger body of the cruiser, easing into it slowly. Staring, you think about how far that bike could take you—what you could see with it on the open road of possibilities and whipping air. Where would you go? Anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. 

Eyes shifting away from the motorcycle, they widen as they softly meet Simon’s own—locked for a moment in a staring contest. His lids barely pull down, studying something. You clear your throat and exhale.

Sensing your company was most likely a hindrance at this point, you turn to leave as the engine flares—you wave easily behind your back with a call of well-wishes.

“Come have a drink one time, boys, yeah? I need stories that come from strangers for once.” A ruckus of ‘affirmatives’ and ‘will do, Ma’ams’ sparks up from Johnny and Kyle as you exit to the roar of the motorcycle behind you, your feet kicking a stray rock into the grass before you make it to the curb. 

Before you can cross, a steel body blocks your path. 

“I’ll be needing a drink later tonight, then.” Simon watches from atop his seat, one booted foot to the ground to steady himself as he comes to a slow halt. His fingers curl the handles, twitching.

“Let me guess,” you tilt your head, smirking, “Bourbon?”

“A woman after my own heart,” he draws numbly, October browns as dead as mulch. As dead as dirt.

“And do you have a heart, Simon Riley?” You question, blinking at him as your mind tells you to walk away. Your brain doesn’t need a repeat of Graham—you already had enough problems on your plate right now besides some attraction to this stranger. This push and pull made your heart jerk, even when you know it shouldn’t.

You’d only just met him.

The man hums, thighs shifting on the black metal frame. He says the easiest answer he can. 

“A cold one.” 

Pushing on the ground, he takes off down the road back into the main town for whatever errand he was on this time. Your eyes follow until the figure is no more than a memory of the smell of oil and the metallic tinge of caution.

—

You hated the smell of cigarette smoke. 

Like a pregnant woman’s aversion to the scent of meat, you grew nauseous at the very hint of cheap tobacco and paper on the air—loathed the burn of it. It had to do with your Ex, of course. The man had been a habitual chain smoker, lighting up one after the other until you had to leave his house entirely to puke on the front lawn. If you thought about it hard enough, you could still taste the ash on your tongue from when he kissed you after lighting up. 

But that was only one of the reasons you’d never moved in with him despite being together for years—the cheating was the other problem. 

Girl after girl, broken promise after broken promise, you’d still held onto him as if he deserved it. Hell, all that Graham Whitaker deserved were the copious amounts of STDs he probably had after sleeping with as many women as he could to try and get back at you. You didn’t have ample reason to ban him from the bar—him or his loud-mouth friends, you should say—so the problem, like a bad rash, persisted. Cars following you after work and all. 

But, the here, the now.

Simon had, in fact, come in for that drink that night—just as he had for the last week up until the grand opening of the boys’ shop. You’d both spoken throughout these encounters and formed some sarcastic and sly-looked bond that the other locals couldn’t understand. You had even learned about his military service. 

The both of you were just…different, people said. No one else really argued with it. 

You finally met John Price before the party that you’d heard from Simon that Soap and Gaz had been eager to host for the town—‘come meet the bastards that bought that old shitty building and see how they fixed it up all by themselves. You should come and give us your money.’

It was there that a proposal was offered. 

“Simon says you told him to come to you about paint.” John was late thirties, keeping a well-trimmed beard with a mustache that was the same shade of brunette as his head of hair. Tall, as well as built, he had found you as you were closing up the bar early for the town-wide party, Celina having already slipped out. 

You were dressed in a long skirt and a nice shirt for the occasion. 

“John Price, I’d imagine,” you comment, stuffing your keys into your pocket as your purse hangs from your shoulder. A throaty grunt tells you all you need to know as you move down the step. “Yeah, I did say that. Do you need some?” You look over his shoulder to the still peeling color on the outside of the bricks as the men are dragging out folding chairs and long tables. There was the clatter of laughter and loud calls. 

John’s blue eyes shift behind him, and he raises a brow slowly. 

“Thinkin’ we’d just hire you,” a side-eye. “If you’d be interested.” 

That was a surprise. 

You begin walking across the street, the man beside you and awaiting your answer. 

“Hire me?” Your voice asks, but you aren’t against the idea. “How do you know I’ll be any good at it,” you chuckle in question. 

“Simon says he found your initials next to the mural—the wolf.” Your feet pause, stuttering for a second before you catch yourself. The blood on your face stops its circulation in shock. “Not a bad piece, then.” John grunts. “...Think you can do a skull and wings?” 

So, you sat with your sketchbook in front of the wall, a portable camping chair below your bare feet as your legs folded under you. Your slip-on sneakers rest in the green grass, kicked off with a sigh. Blinking, the chatter and mumble from the party surround you in a sheen of community and calmness. You can pinpoint every voice, every story being re-told as if new news when it goes in one ear and out the other like a breeze on the wind. 

Humming under your breath as the sun is low in the sky, you hear the silent feet still from over your shoulder. A smirk flickers your lips.

“Snooping, Riley?” 

“My building.” He grumbles, “Seein’ what you plan to do to it.”

You snort, looking over your shoulder and smiling. “If I recall, you’re the one who took up my offer and told Price about it.” 

Simon was dressed in cargos and a compression shirt pushed up to his elbows, the swell of his forearms on full display along with the scars and…tattoos. You blink at them, the swirl of black skulls and guns; barbed wire and dog tags—the dark images that fit him as his motorcycles did on his left limb. Brown eyes flicker from yours to the painted wolf.

“Good at that,” the man says, balaclava shifting. 

Your expression slowly shifts to something far softer than you can remember it ever being; inside of your chest, your heart tightens. 

“Thank you.” 

He levels you, the corners of his eyes easing out of the numb nothingness to show something akin to shielded affection. Molten sunlight on the side of his face, making the color of his irises glow amber. Simon nods to your sketchbook, clearing his throat. 

“I able to see it, then, or is it some secret?” You huff.

“Come here,” your hand motions, palm brushing away eraser shavings as your fingers get stained with graphite. The shadow comes closer, leaning over you as the scent of oil pools in your gut. You blink at the side visage, swiftly looking back down to your sketchbook as a slight wind ruffles your skirt. 

“Price was talking about a skull with wings beside it—later on he made mention of a sword through the top.” While you explain the concept, you inadvertently study the tattoos on the flesh beside you, one scarred hand coming out to lightly grab the armrest of your chair as Simon leans even closer. 

As your face begins burning, breath caught in your throat, he blinks down at the image as he looms, head tilting. 

Simon breathes, chest rising and falling as his eyes go far off. You know the symbol means something, though you also have a good guess that it’s related to this group’s time in the service. 

He hums, and you see his lips open, the rough grate of his vocal cords as he begins to form words for you. 

“It’s—”

Your name is loudly called from across the way, both Simon’s and your heads snapping back as you both realize exactly how close you two have become. The stealing of the other’s warmth like wraiths of hidden longing ceases when you wrench your attention to the man you wished would leave you alone. 

Graham raises the dark bottle of a cheap beer from the dollar store in your direction, walking over. Now, your Ex wasn’t anything spectacular, but even you had to admit it was the best you could do around here if you didn’t want to date men only five years from the grave. Graham was tall, strong, and heavy-willed like a bear. In the day hours, he worked as a farmhand down the way. 

Your body tenses, eyes going tight. Simon sees.

“Who’s this,” he asks slowly, fingers twitching. 

“Ex,” you mutter, grimacing. “He’s going to make a scene.”

Already gazes had started drifting over, conversations lapsing into mute silence as orbs shifted to three different individuals all stuck in the same storm. 

Simon grunts, standing up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest, legs shifting below him and thighs trading weight. His moving leaves half of you kept firmly behind him and your eyes study his stance as you notice that fact. You blink, and feel something stir in your ribcage, blooming like a flower. 

“Hey, Bartender!” Graham takes a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it as his fingers fumble over the neck of the bottle. “Though I’d seen you over here missing all the action. Nothing’s changed I see.” 

Your face pulls in with disgust.

“Graham, you’re drunk. Go home.” It was true—his words were slurring, his limbs loose with drink. He smirks at you, taking a drag of his cancer stick and puffing it directly at you. Your hand snaps to your nose to try and cover the horrendous smell.

“Nah,” he breathes. “I’m here with Celina, see’s a pretty nice lookin’ broad don’t you think? Not as good of a fuck as you, but, hey, I take what I get.” His expression shifts to hidden anger and Simon takes a heavy step forward before he can finish the rest of his sentence, hands shifting to grasp his biceps harder. Those browns simmer with low ferality—a warning.

The air gets heavy.

“Pretty good little lie you spread about me gettin’ that shit from Stacy.”

“That was a lie?” You drawl lazily and watch your Ex’s eyes flash with rage. But he should know you don’t take shit from him anymore. “Oh,” your fingers tighten over your flesh and make you sound stuffy. “Maybe I heard wrong, you’re right. You don’t have Chlamydia.” You glare. “It was Gonorrhea, wasn’t it?”

“Bitch!” Graham barks, moving forward, but before anyone can realize it, Simon already has him shoved back with a stone-like push to your Ex’s chest.

“Not smart, Mate.” The former soldier utters, arms falling back to his sides. The party by this point had entirely halted in sharp gasps and bated breath. 

Graham’s beer bottle shatters as it hits the ground, the grass not able to absorb the way it slams down to dirt. Your wide eyes stay stuck on Simon’s figure, who’s now entirely hiding your view of your Ex—the wide expansive back that shows the writhe of his shoulder blades and how his spine shifts under the tight shirt. 

Your hand lowers from your face.

“What the fuck?!” Graham spits. “You made me drop my fucking drunk, man!”

“Be thankful that was all, yeah?” Simon’s dead voice is a cold chill on a winter evening. Any sane person would turn and leave immediately. “Cut your losses.”

No one breaths for a long minute, and you can see the other new mechanics inching closer from the sides. All of the locals are deep into the scene, fingers to their lips in surprise. There’s going to be talk tomorrow—the bar will be busy. 

“Graham,” you try to sway the pig-headed man once more from behind Simon. “Go home.”

“So this is what I get,” your Ex spits, head trying to peek over the larger man’s frame to look at you. Simon’s hands clench into tight fists. “I’m with you for years and this is how you treat me? I gave you everything!”

“Those are years that I never want to think about again,” you say with a stiff finality. “And it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever see me worrying about where you are or who you fuck.” 

Knowing that the situation is over and done with, Simon takes a single step forward and leans into the man. 

“You heard ‘er,” he levels, unblinking. “Scatter.” Simon’s accent made it sound more like a threat, but maybe it was. 

Graham growls and takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring Simon down. 

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” But all he does is turn sharply on his heel and stomp away, crossing the street to his truck before he opens and closes the door with a violent slam. From across the way, Celina gasps and calls his name, but the engine has already started and Graham is down the road with a roar from the exhaust. 

Everyone is watching you and Simon, and the staring peels back your skin until Simon grumbles and grabs your arm. 

Blinking in shock, he only gives you a moment to steady yourself and slip on your shoes before he drags you inside the garage. You huff and look up at him as you close your sketchbook–trying to not look at those tattoos again. Your finger wanted to trace them—to study the ink down to the layer of skin where it ended and became red flesh and weeping veins. How far up his left arm did they go? Did they only stay at his forearm, or up to his shoulder?

Inside he lets you go, head slightly tilted to the outside as the sounds of hushed whispering pick back up; hurried and filled with electricity. Simon grunts, blinking. 

A heated silence encompasses the two of you, and as your eyes lock, neither can speak for a moment. 

“Sorry about that,” you glance at your feet. “Should have guessed he’d show up and do something.”

“Don’t apologize,” Simon crosses his arms again, boots righting themselves. “That’s not your fault that some bastard can’t act right, yeah? Forget about it, it’s all nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have to be involved—”

“Bloody cut it out, would you?” Simon glares, brows pulling in. “I said it’s nothing.”

He was very passionate about this, it seemed.

You sigh, shaking your head before a tiny chuckle makes the mechanic blink in confusion. “Suppose I can call you my guard dog now, huh?”

“Piss off,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand while your eyes narrow down. Simon's own crinkle along the edges, lowering his hands to push them into his pockets. 

A second leads into another, but neither of you has any particular interest in re-joining the others, even if Soap is smugly passing looks and Price smirks into his drink. Gaz fixes his hat while he tips back a beer bottle, hiding a glint of amusement. 

Simon’s voice lowers, seeming to hover closer. 

“You alright, then?” You nod, face heating up as you stare at his shadow-tainted visage and how the face-covering obscured him from your eager eyes. 

“I’m used to his drama. I have no problem giving it back.” Simon hums, October browns glinting like Halloween lights. 

“Seems so.” He pauses, and pushes out a joking, “Not surprised, Sunshine.”

“Good, Brown-Eyes,” you lean back on your heels and smirk. “I’d be offended if you were, with all we’ve been talking to one another.” 

“Getting familiar, Bartender?”

“Of course, Mechanic. Haven’t you heard?” He tilts his head, prodding you on as his eyes soften that candle-like smidge. “I keep everyone’s secrets—and you still have to tell me yours.”

Simon chuffs a low chuckle, and the fabric of his mask pulls as he shakes his skull. “Maybe one day, yeah? Need to stick ‘round to know ‘em.”

Then perhaps this town was worth wasting away in.  

—

“Bastard won’t cause any problems, will he?”

“No, no, he’s too much of a coward to try and get back at anyone. He won’t do anything.”

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@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @aldis-nuts, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

[punksocks]

Astrology observations No.18 (18+ Only)

No minors! Adults only pls

Just based off my experiences, only take what resonates

-theory that Virgo/Scorpio/Capricorn mars are most likely to make you finish in a way you didn’t know you could before

-Capricorn mars need to take it slow during intimacy or at least at a pace they can control, sometimes they’ll get overwhelmed and erm.. lose focus if it’s not going at a pace they can control

-I feel like Capricorn/Libra Mars/Moon are most likely to try to f*ck the stress away

-Do not try to seduce a Libra/Taurus Mars with a dirty bedroom or when you’re smelling bad, Venusian Mars signs will get turned off by the unpleasantness

-Dont try to seduce a Virgo mars without having your shit together (this varies but don’t be a total mess —but do have a few problems lol it’s lowkey hard mode)

-Aries/Scorpio mars are most likely to f*ck someone they hate. (Scorpio could do this to get the upper hand)

-Leo Mars wants to be the most memorable partner you’ve ever had

-Cancer always gets t*tties as the thing they’re into but cancer and Taurus mars (and debatably Cancer and Taurus moon too) are usually drawn to more shapely/curvy people

-to get a Virgo mars to get into you’ve got to often have a quiet it factor, something understated that would get you positive attention -these dudes love a lady in the streets/a freak in the sheets imo (grain of salt bc most Virgo mars I’ve dated have had Leo placements lol)

-Gemini mars will come onto you with small talk and witty banter

-12th house synastry will have someone showing up in your dreams to seduce you (yeah I think this is so weird lol)

-8th house synastry will make you do bold and scandalous stuff but 7th house synastry gives wifey/boyfriend chemistry (sleeping together because they comforted you after a long day, someone knowing and embracing your k*nks, etc)

-Lilith synastry makes or breaks a sensual connection. I used to think it corrupted dudes but that was when I was too young to hold men accountable lol. It’s like if someone had any sketchy motives it shines a light on them.

-uranus overlays could point to someone wanting to try novel k*nks with you or flirting with you digitally (s*xting, n*des)

-mars square mars chemistry could lead to a very handsy, passionate, physical relationship. (Sudden quickies and that sort of thing)

-I only dated (in quotes) a few cancer mars, they were even more like “I want it more when I can’t have it” than some air mars I knew imo

-fire and water Lilith may have something similar about guys coming onto you when you’re angry/upset? (A guy tried to get me to come to his hotel room when I was lost and on my way to find family : 0 I was like ay yo wtf.)

[tarotbydelilah444]

describing the type of baddie you are

pile one • 🎀

𐙚 first and foremost, you are absolutely and drop-dead gorgeous. You have unique features, or you could be from a different country, specifically Africa, or Europe (the UK… maybe). Some of you could be of mixed heritage, or you have a beautiful accent that people absolutely adore.

𐙚 you have a great and toned physique to match that face card of yours. Some of you could be or could have been an athlete, or you spend a lot of time working out and maintaining your figure to stay snatched to the gods.

𐙚 some of you could be an influencer or you are very popular in your community. Many people are inspired by you, yet there are some people that are envious and see you as competition. You could attract a lot of evil eye and jealously from haters and people that want to imitate and obtain what you’ve been able to achieve (followers, beauty, and/or success), but aren’t successful, so they stay watching and big mad at you. Muahhh… no access 💋.

𐙚 you are a natural seducer and a flirt. You have this sultriness and confidence that many people respect and find attractive. You have the ability to lure people in with your beauty and charm to get what you want, then become detached and cold when you get what you desire, which is why many people are stuck on you, even when you have disappeared from their lives.

𐙚 it’s hard to impress you and you lose interest pretty fast, if you aren’t constantly stimulated. It’s gives… okay, so what’s next? People tend to have to put in a lot of effort to get your attention and maintain it, or you are very quick to ghost and find something new and more exciting.

𐙚 finally, you are a forced to be reckoned with. You are someone that is well-respected and level headed for the most part, but you are just as quick to go 0-100 real quick, if someone disrespects or slight you in anyway and will not give two f*cks afterwards then continue to protect your peace, like nothing ever happened.

channeled song

pile two • 💗

𐙚 you are hardworking and an overachiever. You are someone that goes after their dreams and doesn’t stop until they reach their goals. You tend to be successful in whatever you choose to go after because you always stay focus on the end goal, without getting distracted. Even when things seem uncertain or challenges arise, you have an unwavering faith to keep going until you get what you desire. 

𐙚 you are a very intelligent and articulate individual, and always open and ready to learn something new, whether if your learning something new through someone else, or learning and teaching yourself. For some, you could be bilingual or trilingual, so you could be fluent Italian, French, and/ or Arabic.

𐙚 for some, you are a wonderful and creative writer, or you are very good with words. You also have a beautiful voice. 

𐙚 your resilience is very admirable. You have the ability to overcome any challenges and obstacles that may come in your path and come up with a solution how to solve any problem that your may encounter. For some, you could want to pursue a career in the medical field, and your resilient and determined spirit will benefit you in the end, so keep up the good work. 

𐙚 you are very mysterious and likely an introverted person. You are perfectly okay with being alone and in your own space. This could be because you might be a little shy and insecure. Your vibe/energy favors Bubbles 🫧 from the PowerPuff Girls, or you have a shy cute nerdy vibe to you, yet underneath that reserved exterior, you are an absolute sweet heart, kind, and loving to those who know you which makes you extremely likable and appealing to others. You have a special way of making people feel invited, heard, and seen with your sweet and caring demeanor. You likely wear your heart on your sleeve and often rely on your heart and emotions to guide you, but you need to be better at not always leading with your feelings and emotions and try learning when to be logical and emotional. I think you don’t know how much you are loved by others. You are being encouraged to step out of your shell and allow yourself to show up and make your mark on the world. You are encouraged to speak up more and put yourself out there. The world is your oyster.

channeled song

pile 3 • 💅🏾

𐙚 this is my rich b*tch energy pile. Your energy /vibe reminds me of the rapper, Saweetie. You are very extroverted and have a very contagious and lively personality that lights up a room and immediately draws people to you. You are very funny and are always cracking jokes, you don’t take yourself or life too seriously and you always have a smile on your face. You are extremely outgoing and pretty much the life of the party.

𐙚 for some, you are a socialite or very influential and well-known in the world or in your line of work. You are always open to meeting and befriending people any chance you get. Some of you could be an entrepreneur, or you have aspirations to create something of your own. You are independent and self-sufficient, you don’t rely on no one to provide for you. You are very passionate and driven when it comes to your goals, dreams, and desires and wont stop until you get everything you want and deserve. Literally self-made and meant to be a boss.

𐙚 you are very outspoken and intelligent. You are not afraid to speak your mind and stand up for yourself and others, if necessary. People tend to underestimate you and what you are capable of because they think you are just a stereotypical “pretty girl” yet, little do they know that you have beauty and brains and you aren’t afraid to show what you know.

𐙚 bougie queens 👑 you prefer the more finer and refined things in life. You look and smell rich and expensive. For some you are actually wealthy and privileged. You take especially good care of yourself any chance that you get. Not the type of woman to accept any thing less than what you deserve because you know and understand your worth and value, then you add tax. You are poised, well-mannered, confident, and unattainable to those that instantly fall head over heels for you.

𐙚 you likely attract a lot of unnecessary hate from people, specifically people that are jealous of yo. You could have people that have tried to do black magic (hexes, curses, evil eye) or send negativity your way to throw you off course and to see fall from grace, but they always fail and their attempts backfire in the worse way. The divine and your spiritual team do not play about you and will be quick to slide, if anyone dares to harm you. People may mess with you a lot because you come off very peaceful and you have a youthful spirit or appearance, so they perceive you as gullible and an easy target. Your presence and essence also intimidates lots of triggered and unhealed people as well.

channeled song

[luna0713hunter]

If it’s okay, can I request “passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall” and “being caught kissing” with zoro?

Author's note : i answered three asks in one cause they were kinda similar!!hope you all enjoy it darlings!

"passionate kissing,pressed up against a wall"

"being caught kissing"

"neck kissing"

"first kiss"

Based on this prompt

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : kinda suggestive,nothing major!!!just heated kissing,just you guys being in love and Zoro finally making a move,reader is said to wear a dress

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

You visibly gape as you stare up at rows after rows of breathtaking dresses. Never,not even once in your whole life,had you seen so many gorgeous clothes all in one place.

And having a chance to try them on?!

You were living your dream!!!

So as soon as Nami was satisfied with her choice and left the room,you took her place;taking dress after dress with you behind the curtains to try them on.

But there was a small,tiny bit of a problem.

"you're going with that color?"

Zoro Roronoa who apparently,had nothing better to do except watching you try each dress on. And leaving unnecessary comments.

"why?"

"it doesnt go well with your skin color."

Just like that one.

You huff and stick your tongue at him.

"you dont get to give fashion advice when you're sitting there in a bathrobe!"

Zoro merely shrugs and goes back to drinking again.

You go back to try more dresses on,each one looking more stunning on your figure.

As you emerge from behind the screen,in a dress in your favorite color and feel awfully attractive, You spin around and look at yourself happily in the mirror while trying to fix your hair with your fingers. You're so busy trying to make your dress sit better around your curves,that you fail to notice someone moving behind you until you step back and bump into someone's chest.

Someone's steady,hard and toned chest.

You raise your eyes and look at the mirror and meet Zoro's,and let out a nervous chuckle.

"uh...am i in your way?"

"no," Zoro's face is awfully close to your ear as he talks;his voice making a shiver run down your spine, "I'm actually enjoying the view."

You gape again for the second time in the past hour,as your cheeks start to color and your skin heats.

Was Zoro actually flirting with you?!

"uh-ah,thanks?"

You watch as Zoro closes to you,until his chest is pressed flushed against your back and his hands rest on your hips. He smiles to you from the mirror and you hate that he looks so god damn stunning in those suits.

"Zoro?" You whisper when he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder, then up to your neck

"you're driving me crazy with that dress."

And you let out an embarrassing squeak when he turns you around and pushes you up against the wall next to the mirror and rests one hand on your hip, as the other fists on the wall next to your head.

"sorry?!"

"are you though?"

Your eyes travel down to his lips,and unconsciously you wet your own. Not knowing how Zoro's eyes follow your every move with hungry eyes.

"and if I'm not?"

Zoro doesnt bother with answers;always a man of action than words,as he presses his lips firmly against yours.

You have no idea where this hunger is coming from,but you're not complaining. You return his feverish kiss with your own as you chase his lips whenever he pulls away;your arms wrapping around his shoulder to pull him closer. You feel like tonight,all your dreams might come true. Since you already achieved half of them.

Your very fucking first kiss with the man you had the biggest crush on since the moment you laid your eyes on him and became his crew mate happening just when you're in the most gorgeous dress in the whole world.

Zoro doesnt let you pull away,not even for a second. And apparently he's making it his life goal to kill you young right on the spot.

The two of you are so caught in your own world that you dont hear the door to the closet opening and someone walking in. At least not until you hear a loud gasp and a louder "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?"

You jump and pull away like he's burned you (he might as well with how hot your skin feels) and try hard to not scream when you see how Nami and Usopp are grinning at you two knowingly.

"guys!we were just-"

"i dont even wanna hear it," Nami stops you with a hand, "just came down here to tell you guys dinner is ready."

"and if you want a spare room, I'll ask Kaya to give you one!"

"not helping Usopp!"

You let out a loud groan and hide your face in your hands. Zoro rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around you so you could hide your face in his chest.

"ok,you two,get lost."

"yeah sure,lover boy."

And then they left,but not before Usopp letting out an embarrassing whistle and an unmanly giggle.

"so," when Zoro breaks the silence,you raise your head to meet his eyes, "do you wanna take Ussop up on that offer?"

And when you hit his chest and laugh, with your cheeks flushed but your heart full, you pull him toward the dinning room to finally eat.

But maybe...you could talk to Kaya in private later.

[anundyingfidelity]

PRIVATE LESSONS – Sanji x female reader

Summary: on what is supposed to be another of your private cooking lessons, you and Sanji get closer... in a very intimate way.

Pairing: Sanji x female reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: pure fucking, dirty, obscene fingerfucking smut, some plot, heavy hand kink, eye contact, language (also reader thinks herself as a slut at some point), fingering, cum play(?), semi-public, praising, pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl...).

Notes: this is just full of smut so yeah. Idk, this is my realization that I am a Sanji whore. Enjoy you sinners. And I'm sorry for any errors as English is not my main language. (I'll keep apologizing for this lol).

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Probably will make a part 2 to consumate this shit, but I can't promise I will...

GEN MASTERLIST!

Months ago, you started at the Baratie as a waitress but your biggest wish was cooking. And Sanji was there to help you with that. You had absolutely no idea how to start, lucky for you, the blonde chef of the restaurant was aware of your dreams. So you started lessons after your shift.

"Can't deny the wishes of a pretty thing like you," you remembered Sanji saying when you finally asked him to teach you. He winked and put a playful smirk on his lips.

Yes, Sanji was a flirt - but he was a flirt with everyone. So you never took personally his random comments and hits, until you started your cooking classes.

The Baratie was always closed and there was no one but Sanji and you in the kitchen. He had started with the basic stuff, like chopping vegetables and soft meat, and making easy entries and sidedishes.

There was a problem though. This was almost the fourth week you were receiving his lessons and you found out there was something distracting you a lot recently: his hands.

His beautiful, strong hands, that, in a delicate manner, would slice a fish and would convert it in the most delicious dish you ever tasted ever. You became so immersed in his hands doing little to nothing. Even if Sanji wasn't cooking, just fixing his hair or having a cigarrette, everything you could keep your focus on was his beautiful fingers, sometimes wearing pretty rings and jewels around them. And the way the veins on his big hands would appear... Gods, your mind started to wonder a lot of things and it was becoming difficult keeping your focus on the special salad you were preparing that night.

"You're doing great, love," Sanji whispered, staying right behind you and monitoring carefully your chopping like an inspector.

His sweet words were no help for you at all. With a deep breath, you finished with the last eggplant. Sanji immediately came closer and leaned behind your back, and you controled the loud gasp that was about to burst. You felt his strong body pressed against your own, and he suddenly grabbed your hand still holding the knife to start chopping a small piece of the eggplant you just finished. His arms were now sorrounding your figure as he guided softly on how you were supposed to cut it.

"Just make sure to cut them like this, see?"

All you could give was a nod. Fuck, you felt so embarrassed, hypnotized by his hands working on the must mundane activities in the whole world, grabbing firmly the knife between his fingers.

Those thick fingers you fantasized about late at night; not letting you pay attention to the important things Sanji would say to you about cooking. Those fingers you wished to have inside you right now, to lick them, to suck on them until they were completely dry... You rub your thighs together and try to keep your thoughts locked to continue with the lesson.

"Yeah, I see now. Thanks, Sanji," you were surprised you were actually able to talk.

You heard his chuckle behind you before shifting and come by your side, leaving you free of his grip and the warmth of his hands that you were already missing.

"Lets plate then."

Sanji guided you on how to place each ingredient on the bowl, making it harder for you to follow his pace. It took longer than you expected, but you were trying to keep your shit together; your skirt and shirt suddenly felt too tight on your figure and you tried to not rub your thighs, even if you wished for some friction right now.

Once the bowl was done, Sanji took the small plate with the sauce you prepared earlier and gave it a delicate taste, licking the spoon with his tongue.

Why did he look so hot just by doing anything? Was he aware of the effect he had in you lately? Was he teasing you? Or where you just hot and bothered already? No answer you had for any of those questions.

Sanji wrinkled his brows, savoring the sauce with such delicacy, and after a moment or so of thinking he looked at you.

"I think something is missing," he said.

"What? I put everything that was on the recipe for the sauce." In a swift move, you took the spoon from his hand and had a taste yourself. "Seems okay for me."

The chef tsked. "Darling, you need to taste it differently. Deeper, go further than usual."

Sanji dipped his forefinger on the sauce and brought it to your lips. With hesitation, you opened your mouth and licked the sauce from his finger, not only tasting the sauce but savouring the moment. Was he aware of how you looked at his hands? You were not going to question it. Not when you carefully wrapped your soft lips around him, closing your eyes slowly, arousal building up between your legs. His words were no help either, it was like if he was testing the waters and so were you.

You felt Sanji pulling out his finger from your mouth and you let out a soft moan. You wanted to snap yourself. He smirked, he obviously heard your pretty noise.

"Sorry..." you were ashamed but the burning desire was growing and winning over you. What a fucking slut, you thought to yourself. It didn't matter right now. You just had a taste of his fingers.

"So what'd you say?" Sanji interrupted the voice inside your head.

Your dark eyes looked intensely his charming blue ones. "I still think the taste is good."

Sanji leaned down, almost brushing your lips and looking like if he was forcing himself to not press his lips to yours right there and then. Until he did. He captured your lips in a heated and rough kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tasting the sauce and the sweetness of your plump lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other pulled you closer, forcing your back to press against the counter. Now, you were trapped between his body and the surface.

A moan escaped your throat and Sanji happily swallowed it on the heated make out session you shared. He lifted you up so you were sitting on the empty side of the counter, taking shallow breaths, as he stood between your parted legs, stroking the skin of your thighs without any rush.

"I've noticed you look at my hands so attentively," he mumbled, biting your lower lip softly. You gasped, but he continued. "Why's that?"

His question left you speechless for a moment. Did he really need to ask?

"Sanji, I already licked your finger..."

His palms traced their way under your skirt, and his fingers teased your inner thighs, finding the fabric covering your wet core.

"Well, darling, doesn't that mean we can go further? Deeper?"

"Go ahead then," you mumbled, full of lust. Your skin was aching already for him and this was all you needed to feel complete. Him.

With that, his fingers rubbed you softly over your panties, pressing on the wet patch you were already making. Sanji smirked and he leaned to pay attention to the delicate skin on your neck. His lips pressed soft kisses, leaving a trail of them, until he found the sweet spot that made you melt into his touch, nibbling and sliding his tongue against your neck until he met your collarbone.

"Sanji..." the soft whimper past your lips and you held your breath, eyes closed as he hiked up your uniform skirt and puts aside the panties covering your core from him.

His name falling off your lips made his cock inside his trousers twitch, restraining himself to not fuck you right there in the counter until the only thing that was on your mind was his name and only him. Right now, he decided he would take care of you first. As you deserved it.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.

His fingers found your pussy, spreading your folds softly, coating them with your already dripping juices. Sanji rubbed your clit and he teased your entrance, going at an agonizing rhythm. All you wanted was for him to fuck you with his fingers. Now. You started to grind your hips, needing some more friction, knowing he would get the hint of your despair.

"Please, Sanji," you whined.

Sanji chuckled, and you felt pathetic for begging. You could tell he was enjoying your squirm. His free hand cupped the nape of your neck forcing your dark eyes to look at his own directly.

"Look at me," Sanji ordered. "Do not dare to close your eyes, darling."

You bit your lip and nodded, gripping tightly the edge of the counter.

"Good girl," he whispered with a raspy voice, and with a lustful smile on his lips. "I want to see you come undone."

And with his statement, he eased one digit inside your velvety walls. You moaned louder this time.

"Fuck, you're so ready for me," Sanji growled, noticing how obvious the ache between your thighs was. "You're perfect, darling," he cooed against your lips. His praising caused your walls to clench around him, gaining another dark smile from the blonde man.

The thrusts of his finger started in a delicate pace. Instantly, your eyes clenched, breath hitching, as he filled you up. Sanji gradually increased his pace, curling his finger to reach your deepest spot, and you felt your juices coating your thighs with his moves.

"You look at me, don't forget," Sanji whispered, his other hand now cupping your cheek. You obeyed, opening your eyes for him.

A second finger made its way inside your cunt and he pumped them harder this time. Your legs were spreading wider, moaning against his lips, dying to kiss him one more time. But you tried your hardest to mantain the deep eye contact, realizing where you were right now. In the empty kitchen of the Baratie, with the blonde chef between your legs, fucking you with his pretty fingers. Those he protected and took care of so attentively.

And now, the only place Sanji wanted to have his fingers on was inside of you. You looked flushed, sweaty and simply gorgeous, cyring and whimpering. All for him. Your pussy was throbbing and you let a rather loud and erotic moan.

"Shit, I'm so close," you cried.

"Just come for me, beautiful..."

His lips catching your swollen ones in a heated kiss. He curled up his fingers, thumb rubbing your clit softly. Your hips trying to meet the thrusts of his hand desperately, your smooth walls clenching around his digits. Sanji realized he enjoyed the control and power he had over you as you reached your heavenly climax. He loved it more than he could ever think of.

Your body trembled, and finally, you felt sweet release hitting you, walls spasming in ecstasy around his fingers. Foreheads still touching, eyes locked as he watched you come undone. Exactly like he wanted it to be.

You moaned his name under your breath over and over, filled with pleassure. Sanji felt your thighs closing and your pussy contracting around his digits. He let you catch your breath for a moment, enjoying the heat of your body. For the first time, Sanji then pulled away his forehead, remaining still between your legs, and slowly removing his fingers from your throbbing cunt, eyes looking directly to your wetness.

Still covered with your juices, Sanji used both his hands to spread your folds obscenely to get a better look at your pussyhole. Fuck, you felt so exposed to him, but you couldn't care less. You had a mindblowing orgasm just moments ago.

"Fuck-" you cried.

"So beautiful," he praised. Again, you whimpered and your hips bucked a little.

Sanji pushed a finger slowly inside you, just to gather more of your sweetness, so he could finally have a taste. He licked both fingers he used on you before, humming like he had found the best meal in days.

"So how is it?" you finally asked, teasing him.

"Sweetheart, you're delicious."

You laughed softly, realising you totally forgot about the dish you were preparing that night. "Is this included on your private lessons, Sanji?"

"Only if you want," he leaned down to share a last kiss, this time more gentle than the others.

He already knew your answer.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 🍒

Sometimes love doesn't make sense.

Tags/Warnings: Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook, Pastel!Reader, opposites attract, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, suggestive flirting, adult themes but no smut, consensual hand holding

Length: ~4k

There is no taglist for this fic.

Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🍒── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Uhm-" you wonder, stepping inside the store to be greeted by the guy you know as Jimin.

"Hi, my friend has an appointment?" you say, and the artist stands up and walks closer. Your friend stays close to you, buzzing with the excitement of getting her first tattoo ever- too shy to say anything.

When it comes to that, you're a little ahead of her. As long as the person isn't intimidating, you're fine talking to them, asking for help or anything alike.

"Yeah, it was the dragon on her back, right?" and your friend nods. "I've got it all prepared already. Wanna come downstairs with me, I'll explain the rest of it there?" Jimin kindly says, taking her coat and leading her downstairs where you assume everyone works. "Oh, you can just wait in the back there, or stroll around town. It'll take a while." he says, and you nod, a bit unsure now after being left alone.

"Hm?" a voice chimes up, before he speaks again. "Oh, Thought I heard something." the guy comes into view, and suddenly you can't talk.

This is what you can't talk to.

Intimidating? Heavy boots and black clothes, silver chains and piercings and a fully inked sleeve including his hand present themselves to you, muscles free since he's only wearing a black sleeveless top that should be illegal for him to wear. His smile is the friendliest you've ever seen, reaching his eyes and his slightly wild hair just makes him look even better, sides buzzed down to mere millimeters left- you want to disappear from the earth and his memory forever.

Fuck. He's looking like every goth-girl's wet dream while you're dressed in a pastel colored dress and thick knee high socks to keep your feet warm in this cold weather. Great.

"You can sit here in the back with me, otherwise you'll catch a cold from all the cold air blowing in every time the door opens." he recommends, pointing to a couch in a corner that you assume is where they all spend their breaks. Awesome, he's a gentleman as well it seems, making it all even worse for you. "You want something to drink? I've got tea or coffee." he wonders, and you meekly press out a 'tea, please.', making him chuckle.

He probably thinks you're nothing more than a child, with the way you look so out of place.

You envy your friend in that department. She's got piercings, she knows cool friends, she has exciting stories to tell. Meanwhile you sit at home and knit sweaters and blankets, help out at the local animal shelter because you get to pet the cats and dogs all day, or work at the library where you aid tourists find the town's guide.

"Your friend was the tall girl, right?" he asks, coming in with two cups, one of which he sets down on front of you. "I'm Jungkook by the way." he introduces himself, smiling before he leans back in his seat. Of course he's interested in her, you think. She's exactly his type, though he looks quite a few years older than her.

Well- the least you can do is help her find a date.

"Ah, yeah, she's my friend. Best friend." you say, pulling the cup of tea closer. "Thank you, for the tea." you say politely, and he grins in front of you.

"No problem." he waves off.

"She's uh.. She works at a car-uh.. She does those paint jobs. Like, those complicated one's that look realistic and all that." you try and explain. "I.. Forgot what it's called though. But uhm.. You can ask her later maybe?" you say, and he shrugs, setting down his cup before he smirks impishly, tongue playing with his lip ring in a manner that you can only describe as illegal.

"I probably could do that-" he starts, before he tilts his head a little to the side, body leaning forward. "-but I'd rather get to know you a little more." he wonders, and you almost choke on your tea- but you're composing yourself. "Maybe I could start by asking if you've got a boyfriend?"

Well, so much for composing yourself.

Your wide eyes look at him scandalized, and he giggles at the sight of it. "I- uh, no, I mean no I don't have one, to be honest-" you laugh a bit nervously. "-guys don't.. I- most guys don't really look my way, you know. So I thought, you know, considering-" you motion up and down towards him, "-you'd be more interested in my friend." you ramble, and he just shakes his head, smiling.

"I mean, she seems nice- but, I don't know either." he shrugs. "Something about you- it's hard to explain."

You shift a little on the spot now, unsure what to do in a situation like this. Typically, you shut down guys quickly, scared of what's to come. But you also don't want to keep doing exactly that- not when you've got the chance of something right in front of you like that. For the first time, someone's actively interested in you. Someone who seems nice, that is.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, by the way." Jungkook suddenly rips out of your thoughts. He leans back again, giving you space, and it makes you feel a little deflated. Did you blow it already? Oh god you screwed it over, didn't you?

"No, you're not, don't worry." you say, looking down. "I just.. I'm not used to this. I'm usually always the wingman instead- or.. Wing-woman?" you think, and he laughs.

"Hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." he says, still friendly. "So, I'm wondering- any tattoos? Piercings?" he wonders, and you nod- instantly making his eyes sparkle in interest. "Oh- can I ask what it is, or do you want to let me find out later?" he says, and you instantly turn red, making him laugh. "Sorry, sorry- I'll stop, promise." he waves off. "..for now."

You laugh at his antics, unable to keep a straight face by now. "You seem like you know your way around with girls." you say without thinking, before you hurriedly correct yourself. "I-I mean I don't mean that your like, a fuckboy or something or- maybe you are that's fine too! I don't judge but- oh god.." you put your head in your hand. "You know what? I'll just wait here for her, I'm so sorry." you mumble more or less.

But much to your surprise, he simply laughs, head thrown back for a second before he grins at you, front teeth slightly protruding, giving him a bunny smile.

"You're so cute, I swear." he says, shaking his head. "I- is it okay if I ask for your number?" he wonders, and you look at him for a good moment, squinting your eyes as if you test to see if he's serious.

"I.. Sure..?" you say, pulling out your phone with all the different charms attached. He grins and shakes his head amused, though clearly excited as you type in your number into his phone before calling yourself to make sure it's correct.

"So!" he grins. "Since your friend is gonna still be out of order for a good four hours downstairs," Jungkook stands up to hold out his hand. "You up for some boba for our first date?" he asks, looking down at you even though you're standing as well by now.

And you nod, walking next to him through the slight October fog outside in town, his hand warming up yours.

You don't even realize how.. easy it feels, right away. His hand holding yours is not demanding, giving you the option to let go at any point, but you don't mind holding it. It's warm, comfortable, and it also makes you wonder if that's something he enjoys. Did he date a lot already? He certainly looks like he got the choice, girls probably falling for him fairly easily.

Well.. you're already trusting him too. How ironic.

"Just tell me which one you want, I'll go order." he says later, holding out a hand in case you lose balance as you clean off the rain from your boots as to not bring it all into the small store. "I'll pay too by the way, no but's!" he grins, while you look up at him with a pleading look.

"No, I'll give you the money back for mine." you say.

"But then it's not a date!" he argues back, a whine in his voice as if to mock the way you just spoke to him. "then it's just- two people getting a drink at the same time."

"what's so bad about that?" you laugh, crossing your arms without thinking- an action he playfully copies, pushing out his chest, fabric of his jacket stretching over his biceps.

"That it's not a date!" he says, before laughing as he relaxes, talking more quietly now with a lower, more serious tone. "Alright, in all seriousness though, I'd still like to pay even if there's no date." he tells you.

"I- no, a date is fine, it can be a date.." you say. "I just don't want to.. Come off as a leech for taking your money if you end up not liking me-" you ramble, and he smiles warmly, holding your shoulders before his warm palms touch your cheeks for a second.

"You're overthinking too much." he giggles, before letting go of you. "right now, I like you very much. And even if we don't end up working out, I'm not that kind of guy to go around and talk shit about people." he shrugs.

You sigh at that, before pointing towards an item on the menu. "..can you- I don't like that much ice in mine.?" you say, and he nods, before walking towards the worker to order.

He's oddly okay with you, you've noticed.

Normally, people and especially guys get frustrated easily due to the fact that you've got trouble deciding things, or that you don't like ordering, or that you quickly feel bad because your brain thinks the worst about every single word that's said to you. But he seems nice enough, doesn't come off as annoyed or anything. Despite his way of talking and his outer appearance, Jungkook feels nice to have around.

You wonder how a guy like him can be single.

Or maybe he isnt? Maybe he's into the BDSM scene, a swinger, or in an open relationship, and he just want to offer you a threesome? He looks like he might be into that stuff, like a dominant guy that enjoys taking control over his partner in the bedroom. Does he tie people up? You've seen stuff like that before, and it's not something you'd be opposed to if he'd be the one to-

Wow, alright, exit was three miles ago.

"Everything alright?" he chuckles, snapping you out of your thoughts, amusing him as he notices the way you turn red. "Been staring at my ass? Can't blame you, honestly." he jokes, making you hit his shoulder playfully before you take your plastic cup from him. "Hey, this might sound super shady and you don't have to say yes-" he starts, stepping out the small store with you where it had started to snow again. "-but I've got my apartment a few minutes from here, and it's freezing cold, so-" he takes your hand and looks down at you. "-you wanna go to my place?"

You're nervous now, more than ever. Thoughts are entertaining, they're safe and most of all yours and not real, but the prospect of potentially going into an apartment you don't know, with a guy you don't know, is scary. What if he's actually a serial killer, or really into BDSM and you'll get involved in some shady fifty shades stuff-

"-you really don't have to say yes. We can just go back to the Tattoo shop and talk there, I don't mind." he reassures, and you still don't answer. "What's worrying you? Maybe I can help."

"I-" you start, unsure, and fingers already hurting from the cold cup as you both walk outside the small store, walking side by side. You enjoy this a bit more- without holding his hand, you feel safer having a discussion like that. "-you know, guys only take girls to their place for.. Stuff, and I'm not like that, but I also kind of want to be but at the same time it's scary-"

"Hey, no, I'm not out for blood if you mean that." he chuckles, holding out his arm to make sure you wait until a car has passed the road you're both trying to cross. "Like, I'm not gonna lie and say I've never had one-night-stands or quickies or whatever, but right now I'm interested in you, first and foremost." he explains, his rather blunt words causing an elderly lady to turn her head scandalized as she walks past. "Also, I'm into begging. I'll only fuck you if you ask nicely." he smirks down at you next to him, before laughing out loud at your wide eyes and red ears.

"I-" you struggle to form words. But you're also horribly cold. "Alright then. I mean not the fucking part, at least not right now maybe sometime in the fut- where was your apartment again?" you stutter, and he grins so hard his eyes almost close.

"You're so fucking cute, my god." he shakes his head, before taking your hand again. "It's right down this road." he simply tells you, before you both find yourself in front of an apartment building where he takes you upstairs to his door. "Ah, I didn't clean up, by the way. It's a bit chaotic." he sheepishly offers, before the door opens.

It's warm, inviting. Doesn't smell bad, and it's not as chaotic as he told you it would be, Jungkook walking inside before you walk around, inspecting the apartment.

"I've put your boots in my shower, in case you're wondering where they are." he says after emerging from his bathroom, opening a window a little to air out the apartment. "make yourself at home, don't be so stiff." he chuckles, smiling when you visibly relax.

He sits close to you on the couch, but keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. He watches as you inspect a hole in a blanket he's got on the couch, shrugging. "My friend has a dog. Small little shit tore a hole in there, but it's still good so I keep the blanket."

"It's an easy fix." you say. "If you take those two parts of the yarn and then those, you can just tie them together so it doesn't rip open any further." you explain, and he tilts his head a little.

"Oh? Do you knit?" he wonders, and you nod.

"I.. My hobbies are kind of lame. I knit, and I help at the shelter a little away from the town. Other than that, I just.. Kind of exist in my apartment." you tell him. "I work at a library near the main train station. So, I'm not really interesting." you say, while he shakes his head.

"Don't say that. I think that's all pretty cool." he reassures. "Sounds like you've made a cozy life for yourself. That's pretty impressive considering today's times." he says. "I've always been.. Unsatisfied. With almost everything." he shrugs, leaning back, socked feet resting on the edge of his couch you're both sitting on.

"How so?" you wonder, taking a sip from your drink, before putting it back onto the small table.

"I don't know." he explains vaguely. "I guess I always had way too big dreams and aspirations. And now that I'm at that age I back then wanted to be, I feel like I wasted all my time with nothing but short-lived successes and people who only wanted me for the moment."

"Kind of.. Reminds me of myself." you giggle. "I.. When I was young, even a teenager, I always said I won't have kids. But these days, I kind of think, in the future I want them. Not right now, but one day. I wanna have a family and stuff, live in a house and have a dog and a cat and a husband and all that." you giggle. "like I said, not right now- but in the future."

"Hmhm. I never wanted to marry either. Thought that's just bullshit." he says. "But now, after seeing some of my friends have that, I'm envious. I want that too. A partner for life, I mean. A boring life." he says.

You hum a reply, nodding to yourself, a bit of quietness falling over the both of you, before he moves again, sitting down more comfortably turned towards you.

"I.. Would really like to get to know you. Seriously, I mean." he starts explaining. "Like I said, I.. Don't know what it is exactly, but you're.. Fuck you make me all weird." he laughs. "I wanna stay in contact with you, if you'd like. We could watch a movie? Only Netflix, no deep-throating during commercial breaks, promise!" he jokes, before adding, "..except if you're up for it." he giggles when you hide your face for a good second, laughing.

"I don't even know how to do that!" you laugh, making him raise his eyebrows while playing with his lip ring.

"Oh I can teach you, don't worry about that." he teases.

"I'm sure you can.." you mumble more or less, sipping on your drink. But your sentence seems to make him curious, eyes gaining a challenging glimmer as he leans forward.

"No no no, let's rewind a bit there." he says. "Just so I know where I'm at. You a virgin?" he wonders, and you pull your legs closer to yourself.

"..no." you shrug. "But.. I highly doubt I'm as adventurous as you." you tell him, making Jungkook smirk a little, as if challenged.

"Are you? What do you think I'm into then?" he wonders. "I've got a feeling you've made up your mind about me more than I thought."

"I mean, I don't know?" you say. "You.. It's not that hard to have more experience than me. I only had sex like.. Twice, and it's honestly not really for me." you shrug. "it's weird to.. Ugh I don't know."

"No, you do know, you just don't want to say it out loud." he clears up for you, making you nod. "Did you ever have an orgasm?"

"Jungkook!" you bark out scandalized, making him raise his hands in playful defense.

"What? You gotta ask these days, men are shit in bed most of the time, I have to admit that!" he laughs, shamelessly talking about this as if it's nothing but the weather outside. "So? Did you?" he wonders, and you shrug. "So you didn't?"

"I- don't know!" you say, a little glad you can finally talk to someone about it, hesitation finally breaking as you get the chance to make your frustration some room. "It's different when I do it myself. Like, then I'm pretty sure I have one? But when I had sex it was different, like I was almost kind of there but also not.." you lean your head on the backrest of his couch.

"Sounds like you didn't then." he tells you. "See, there's women out there who can't cum from penetration at all. The key ingredient is being fucking attentive." he explains. "I got more than just my dick, is what I'm trying to tell." he says, wiggling his fingers in front of his face, several rings adoring some of them- and you laugh.

"You sound like you're trying to get me to have sex with you right now." you joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking against his cheek for a moment.

"I'd fuck you any day you'd let me." he simply answers, eyes on yours. "After all, I gotta check out those tattoos you said you have." he flirts, and you move around a little, air between you both getting thicker. At this point, you can't deny the attraction. And with the way he talks and treats you, you're sure you'd let him prove his point as well. Right now. No regrets.

He notices the way your eyes fall to his lips, getting attached at the silver piercings there for a good moment, before you find his warm eyes again. And even though he really did not intent to be so forward so fast, he still scoots closer, tests the waters, places his arms on either side of you before the tip of his nose almost touches yours.

"Been wondering for a while now.." he starts, licking his lips before he looks down to yours, face tilting a bit as he looks at you. "..what flavor that lipgloss might be." he jokes, before he can't help himself.

You've not been kissed often in your life, not even in relationships. But you know for a fact that there's no experience comparable to the way he kisses you- not only his lips, but also his hands craving you it seems, making you feel completely under his spell. He's not just kissing you with his lips. He's using his hands, his tongue, knows clearly how to create a moment.

Your phone rings.

His rings soon after.

He laughs- and so do you.

It's a little awkward for a second, before he sends a message informing his coworker that you're on your way back, his grin still evident, never vanishing it seems. "so..?" you wonder having stood up to go grab your coat.

"So?" he parrots back, standing up as well to walk closer to you.

"What flavor is it?" you shyly try and flirt, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you again, just a peck, and another, and just one last one before he parts with laughter.

"I'd say cherry-" he grins, watching you tie your boots in his hallway before he cages you in at his front door again the second you stand back up, unable to resist you now that you gave him the chance to taste you.

"But let me make sure I got it right."

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Main Masterlist

Series:

Oh, Baby (dad!Jake Seresin): You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake’s heart. Now, a year later, you’ve returned and you’re not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake.

The One I Want (Jake Seresin x Plus Size!Reader): You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Signed Away (Arranged Marriage AU): You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plenty angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.

Stolen Angel (Angel/Demon AU): You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he's a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

One shots:

Forgetting: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Can’t Let You Go: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Rather Be with You: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

It’s oh so Quiet: you are in a bad relationship, and you just want to be with Jake.

Just a Little Weak:  You are Penny’s new bartender and she warns you to stay away from one particular pilot, so you do your very best to please your boss. It is only when Penny goes out of town for the summer, leaving you in charge of the bar, that the pilot finally makes his move, and you finally give in. 18+

Touch and Go: You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind. 18+

Lazy Mornings and Whatnot: After coming home from his last mission, Jake doesn’t want you to leave the bed and will do what he has to if it means insuring that you’ll stay, which leads to fluffy conversations.

Jealousy Game: You do a little experiment to try to make Jake jealous and it works, with unexpected consequences that change the way you thought the night would go. 18+

Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem; Jealous Jake and the Other Sleepover Buddy: You and Jake have a friends-with-benefits situation, but when he finds bite marks on you from another guy, he doesn’t handle it well. 

Split: You break up with Jake because his actions make you question everything you’ve had between you, but he wants you to take him back. 

A First and a Second: It’s soft Dad!Hangman from start to finish. And cute marriage stuff.

Wanting it all: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.  

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts: You and Jake had a history of flirting and occasionally kissing if too much time was spent at the bar, but it never went any further than that. One night, after showing up at your house and passing out on your couch, Jake wakes up the next morning only to learn he had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you.

Alive: After you get into an accident, Jake has a hard time coping with how close he was to losing you.

More Than What We Are: You and Jake are friends with benefits, and you have one rule: No feelings! Jake decides that rule doesn’t work for him anymore. 18+

Less Misery, More Company: Jake has feelings for you but you don’t believe it, so you play a little trick to get back at him for all of his flirtatious teasing. But that little trick fails miserably, and as the weight of your mistake settles in, you realize you owe him an explanation, one that requires you to admit some things you’ve long denied.

Back for More: Jake up and left you without explanation right before a mission. Now he’s returned wanting you back, but you want that explanation before you’ll be willing to let go of the pain and heartbreak from his sudden departure a month prior. 

Scrapes and Bruises:  When Rooster and Hangman get into a fight over you. Basically, Rooster is not thrilled about your relationship with Hangman, and their issues with one another bring up some fears of your own.

A Mission of Another Kind:Jake is assigned to a mission he did not think he would have to take part in, despite training for it with everyone else. Considering its high level of danger, you had been happy he hadn’t volunteered for it, until he came to your house one morning to tell you he had been assigned and would be leaving within the hour.

Drabbles:

He Doesn’t - Jake doesn’t do relationships...right?

Early - Jake’s a sweet boyfriend when reader gets her period.

Jake helps his drunk girlfriend

His Princess

“The bed is cold without you here”

Perfect for me, Baby - Jake is there for you when you have body-image concerns. 

Get Me Through - Jake helps you through the death of a loved one. 

[skrrts]

& action! (oneshot) mature!

✧ afab!reader x choi san ✧ reader is an unknown actress & san is a popular actor ✧genre: non-idol, show business, strangers, from dislike to interest ✧ word count: 8k ✧ warnings: san’s an asshole in the beginning, rude comments, insecurities, deep kiss with tongue and teeth but it's short, she/her for mc, nickname "pretty girl", mdni!

after countless boring little acting roles, you are finally cast as the female lead for an upcoming streaming series. everything would be perfect, if not for learning that the male lead is none other than choi san, highly praised for his skills but known to harshly criticize and even look down on his female co-stars.

a/n: this oneshot taught me i am not good at writing mean san. i wrote this 2 weeks ago but i didn't like it. now ended up editing the parts i was iffy about. it's a cliche plot of the mean guy going soft for you. i hope it still might be a fun read 🫶 this was inspired by a ranking of "top worst k-drama actors behind the scenes". there are no suggestive scenes but since there's rude/behavior talking, i will consider it mature, so mdni

As a child, you dreamed of becoming a musical artist, standing on stage and singing beautiful songs that made others cry. But reality was always by your side. Your family made just enough to give you a decent, average life, something you were thankful for, and you never blamed them for being unable to afford vocal lessons. Instead, you joined your school’s theatre group, went to college, and started affordable acting lessons in between several part-time jobs to pay for a dream that kept changing. Maybe you couldn’t perform the way you wanted, but there could still be a way to be out there. It was a fool’s dream, but a part of you thought maybe if you just became a successful actress, you could chase your original wish when money was less of a problem and names opened doors.

Of course, you knew it was just as foolish, with hundreds of thousands of desperate souls trying to become the next big name in the acting industry. Your family wasn’t fond of it, but after receiving the long-desired college major in marketing, they gave their blessing, and you were lucky. A small agency was looking for what they called ‘fresh faces, raw and with unique talents.’ You had low expectations when you auditioned because your special skill was singing, but it seemed your dream was still there. The casting manager was in tears when you finished one of your favorite musical songs. A magical moment.

One that was over by the time you signed your contract and faced reality. You were a nobody, and the tiny roles you got weren’t enough to pay the bills. You started working part-time in a higher-class clothing store with brand names every child knew and you likely would never be able to afford if your streak of poor roles continued.

Two years of playing background store visitor, neighbor’s girl, the average student thirsting over the main lead for three seconds never to be seen again, and your biggest hit so far: the quick flirt of a vet who was weak for you before shaking his head remembering the female lead.

There was no doubt, you slowly questioned your own intelligence because why were you doing this? Years after graduation and in an office, as boring as it would be, you already could lead a decent life with a larger apartment that wasn’t smaller than your college dorm and wearing your hair however you wanted.

So what changed? The popular actor who played the vet invited you and five other actors to join a TikTok dance challenge and for some reason, it went viral because people asked who this girl was who pouted so cutely. And when they started to research you, seeing that you were hard-working rather than a foolish girl thinking beauty alone carried it, you were supported rather than a meme.

It all could be so perfect if not…

“You know, I have never seen anyone as dejected about being cast as the main female lead in one of the biggest productions of popular streaming platforms as you. You went from being ignored for too long to getting one of the best big debuts. I mean it, the plot of this is decent, you won’t just play some poor and confused girl who meets the rich lead.”

Yeosang was both a curse and a blessing. He was one of your agency’s managers and in charge of you for years, often complaining how the agency did not give you the role castings they should in favor of their bigger names when he saw the potential in you. Maybe it seemed odd to some, but the former child model had a good understanding of the industry, and you always appreciated his insights and advice. He had come to prefer being behind the stage rather than in the spot light.

On the other hand, Yeosang was awfully honest, sometimes a little too much when you just wanted to sulk while being driven to the table read in the fanciest car they had given you so far.

“It’s because of the male lead,” you muttered, and Yeosang frowned.

There had been a very short-notice casting change of the main lead, and you went from absolute excitement about a well-respected and liked name in the industry to pure horror. Choi San likely had one of the most dedicated fan bases out there, but among actors, it was no secret that he wasn’t shy to speak his opinion. No, there even was an incident where he managed to convince the production company to switch the female lead in the middle, and they had to start over. The writers wanted somebody more classy on the cast, and thus, you only learned about it yesterday.

“You have heard all those stories. He calls you out if you do not live up to his expectations, he will call you out and make the entire filming process a nightmare. It will be the worst three months of my life.”

If you messed this up, that would be it — no second chances for female leads who did not win over the viewers.

It was worse because there was also a rather intimidating scene where they would get close after some incident, and he would make her feel a certain way, lots of kissing and partly undressing. They promisedit was very professionally but … How were you meant to film something like that with a man who would look down at you?

Yeosang snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you blushed.

“Y/N, breathe! Let’s wait and see how it goes. I am sure the casting director considered that or else, as harsh as it is, they also would have replaced you. Being a new name for the larger audience, it would not have been a big deal for them.”

Maybe his honesty was good after all.

“You are right, sorry. Ignore it, I guess I am just nervous.”

Yeosang squeezed your hand. “And that is fine, this is your big chance, and I know you will give it your all.”

You didn’t expect just how many people would be there for the first official reading. While you had already received the script, considering filming was about to start in less than a week, it surprised you how not only the main cast was there but also the makeup team, stylists, and a few people you didn’t know but assumed were in charge of the infamous indirect sponsoring of brands who likely decided if they were interested in wasting money on you.

The story was mostly told from your character’s perspective and suddenly, you understood why they spent an hour on your makeup: fresh but natural, your hair braided over your shoulder, and a casual outfit of jeans, a tank top, and a denim jacket, giving you a confident but youthful look. If they looked at you today and decided you did not live up to their brand’s expectations, that was it for them.

A particular male lead, on the other hand, did not have to try; he looked like a god even without any makeup. Jeans and an oversized white shirt, slightly open to reveal some of his chest, with glasses that made him look elegant, and hair styled back.

The moment Yeosang and you entered, all attention was on you. You smiled politely, as you always did, advised not to act any different from the much more casual and small readings the ‘npc of the acting industry’ usually received.

“Miss Y/N, I am very excited to see you,” said Mister Nam, the leading producer, whom you had already met during the casting process.

You accepted his hand and bowed: “It is nice to meet you again, Sir. I am very much looking forward to working with you.” And like that, you went through a row of people to greet, bow, and thank, even though you had no idea who they were. It was the manners; you were a nobody among somebodies.

The faces you paid extra attention to were Seonghwa, the leading makeup artist for not only the production but also the promotions that would follow, and Hongjoong, the lead stylist. They seemed kind, curious, and outgoing.

Then finally, the one you did not want to see but were meant to pretend to wildly fall in love with for the following three months.

“Mister Choi,” you bowed politely. He was a senior of yours and likely expected the usual treatment. As you looked up, you caught him staring, quite openly, as if making a judgment about whether you suited his aesthetic.

Officially, all those shows were from the female lead’s perspective, but they really just served as self-inserts for the mainly female viewer base who fell hard for the handsome man. There was a small grin on his lips, but he did not even waste a breath to greet you, like he decided in that moment to test your limits.

You managed to keep it together and sat down next to him. The reading was long and unnecessary, mainly the producer talking, with several inside jokes in favor of your co-actor and details already known to those involved. It was almost at the end when everyone was supposed to go and take photos for the press announcement, and they looked at you.

“We do have a small unexpected moment planned, one that actually isn’t in the official script yet but when I found out I could not resist. Miss Y/N is a very talented singer.”

Oh no.

“So we added a scene. We currently have a well-known songwriter producing a few lines for us, and the song will bring some tears.”

“Aren’t we all looking forward to that?” San added lightheartedly, likely noticing how you grabbed your jacket under the table a little tighter. They all laughed.

With that, everyone left the room except you and your male lead, as it was tradition to give the two of you a few minutes to get to know each other. While you were trying to find anything kind to say, this asshole did not even bother. Instead, he leaned closer.

“Listen, pretty girl. I have worked with your kind before. You were lucky and somehow caught the interest of a producer without any real passion, skill, or will to go through this properly. This show will be my last one before I go abroad; I cannot let it flop because you think your face does the job.”

He tilted his head to show you how unimpressed he seemed by you up to this point.

“You better not waste my time. I give you one day. If your acting is shit, you are out. Do you get it? While he is charmed by you, I have worked with Nam before and his moods change like the weather. A good friend of mine would suit this role perfectly, and she and I share great chemistry. She’s just one call away.”

You wished he would just intimidate you to the point where you were scared, but somehow, something in your mind decided to be insane instead.

You spat at his expensive-looking clothes, leading him to yelp and withdraw.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” he cursed.

In your mind, this was it. You just ended your very fragile career, but you were too terrified to act shy now. You had walked into the fire; now you couldn’t hope somebody would save you, so all you could do was… act.

“Talk to me like that again, and I will sue the hell out of you,” you replied, with no lack of hesitation in your voice, perfectly hiding how you wanted to scream or slap yourself.

It was unfair how he could be like that just because he had major successful roles in the past few years.

With that, you grabbed your phone and walked out of the room. Yeosang seemed surprised that you were so quick to return. He expected the two of you would have a proper conversation, as the chemistry was important, but you told yourself you’d just see if you really were cut out for this by faking chemistry that certainly was not there.

“Do I want to know?” he asked, brows furrowed when you shook your head eagerly, leaving.

“I can’t believe she just spat at me,” San replied, sighing at his friend who was slowly fixing his makeup.

“To be honest, I’d probably have done about the same, you know? Why do you always have to be such an asshole? Once upon a time, you were a nobody. I remember your first role, the son of the teacher. You were so adorable, struggling to catch any role until you decided to bulk up a few years ago. Now, you steal the dreams of women and men alike.”

The taller one only leaned back once he was satisfied with the natural makeup again, just gaining a stare from the actor.

“Yes, exactly. People pointed fingers at me, so I proved them wrong by working hard, changing myself, and then actively going for roles. I got cast for my looks AND my skills. Those female leads they give me, they chose them because they are pretty, or ended up going viral for some nonsense not because they enjoy the craft.”

Seonghwa sighed as he slowly stood up: “Sannie, you are far too hard. You know, just because somebody took longer than you and received fewer roles does not mean they did not try.”

Of course, he knew as much, but there just was no way around it. If this drama would be a success, he’d finally be able to leave this market and branch out. San wanted to be remembered as an actor, not the face of some k-dramas of the early 2020s.

“At least, give her a chance. That would be fair, yeah? If she really is such a poor actress as you seem to want to believe so desperately, then I will not be in your way. But should she show to have actual passion and talent, I’ll be in your way, handsome.”

San just watched as the makeup artist walked out, and he looked in the mirror again. He looked great; that was what they all told him. But sometimes, he felt like the look and the roles he often was given — the cold and rich asshole who only warmed up in the last part of the series —somehow it seemed to start swallowing up the one who was once Choi San, the one who dreamed of walking on international carpets.

Such a silly dream.

“Tsk, she will be thankful. I will be a much kinder way out of this before she wastes all her youth only to learn that she is just one of those many stupid people thinking they wanted to be on a screen.”

You looked in the mirror. This was not how you imagined the first day of recording to go. It was natural not to start with the first episode, but the idea to film a major scene as the very first seemed insane.

At least, for two actors who had never worked together before.

Maybe this was the point? Did damn Choi ask that they do this so they could kick you out because there was no way you could play the dreaded separation of the lead characters as your first time with this man?

The makeup was fantastic. You looked like you had cried for days, but your natural beauty was still there, your hair far too pretty for someone who had run through a rainstorm to speak to the one she loved, begging him not to just leave.

“You are beautiful and stubborn. This is more fire than I have seen in any rookie in a while,” Seonghwa hummed, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulders. Somehow, you started to wonder if he knew what happened the other day.

“Your makeup is stunning. I will give my best,” you promised and watched him give you a playful wink. Your outfit took another half an hour, and you prayed quietly not to get sick because, unlike San who looked like he just walked out of a magazine, your character was supposed to be soaked in rain water. At least that scene would be shot on another day and location.

As you were positioned, you had to wait for a few minutes before San finally appeared. As it was a tradition in dramas, later on, when the male character softened up, it was shown in his hair being less bothered by products, and you could not deny, if not for knowing how he was, you’d think of him as cute.

“Everyone ready? Good, we are starting in five!” The entire set was moving in one big crowd, and you took a deep breath in, exhaling as you looked up.

It was like you were looking at another man.

San’s eyes were so soft, it almost broke your heart, and you had to remind yourself you were shooting a scene. Fuck, he really was worth that damn money, wasn’t he?

“Summer,” his warm hands cupped your cheeks, and maybe it was good how this surprised you, how different this version of that rude guy was was because it was exactly the way the scene was meant to be.

“You are so foolish. Look at you,” he whispered, his big hand brushed over your cheek, and he looked up and down, taking in your appearance. “To run all the way through the rain, what if you get sick? Silly girl, you always get cold so quickly,” his voice was so soft, you could feel the emotion, the worry he put into every word.

“I am scared,” you whispered when you felt his thumb brush over your chin, and you tried to make sure not to fuck up the pace of the scene.

“You were just going to leave by telling your sister to let me know I’d not have to worry anymore. How am I not to worry? You are gone, it’s worse than what happens if we push on… with this. I need to do this with you. Please…”

You thought about how badly you needed this acting role to work. This was your last chance before you likely really had to give up because you were almost in your mid-20s now, and soon roles would get even tougher without a name and fame.

So you begged, and for a moment, there was something hinted behind his eyes like he was actually touched.

You likely just really were going crazy because of how impressed you were about it. Seeing it in person and working with this was different.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he whispered. The camera was zooming in. You started to cry, just as scripted, grabbing his shirt.

“This isn’t yours alone to decide,” you tried to push more energy in because in theory, you were meant to do just that, give him a desperate shove but San’s weight was shifting forward, making it impossible. You were slender compared to him.

“I am sorry.” he breathed.

And then Choi San acted entirely out of script. You were meant to rest your foreheads together, embraced in a deep hug before the scene would zoom out. Instead, he kissed you. The surprise in your face was anything but fake, how your body just sank against his because the arm around your waist tightened, and the way the set fell utterly silent except for the fake rain.

Oh no, he wouldn’t get you with this!

Your arm finally reached out, curling around his neck, and you kissed him back like your life depended on it.

Because it did.

Maybe all of those feelings did lead to helping with this because you needed him to be accepting of you as much as you hated it.

When the director cheered and everyone clapped because the scene was so much better with this unplanned kiss, you could only hear him whisper.

“Come, see me later. I will leave the address in your dressing room,” he removed himself, smiling and walking off with his stylist. This was the only shared scene for the day. All you could do was stare and wonder.

You cursed when you found yourself touching your lip, the sensation of kissing him still on your lips.

San found himself looking at his own reflection in the mirror. You seemed to be quite weak for his natural hair, which was amusing. Every time he went anywhere, whether for a personal event or a public appearance, people always asked him to style it back. Maybe it was because it gave him that particular mature and handsome vibe they all liked, sparking their imaginations. Yet here he was, keeping it down.

He paid great attention to detail. The suit pants went perfectly with matching shoes, but the tight, long black sleeve shirt accentuated every muscle underneath the fabric, giving plenty to look at.

San made a decision. He was simply going to mold you the way he needed you for this to be a success. After the little shot earlier today, he started to have an idea of how this arrangement might work. He’d still rather have worked with someone he knew, but there were worse options, and he had to admit, there was no denying you were pretty to look at.

The address he invited you to was one of his label’s many seminar apartments, a place for their top actors to work with whatever coach they desired. With you still being no big name in the industry, nobody would pay you any mind for showing up here, and he trusted you enough to be somewhat discreet.

He poured two glasses of an alcohol-free drink and looked at the clock. A small frown appeared; San didn’t like the possibility that you might not show up. Why would you reject a private invitation from him? He looked at his watch again, twenty minutes over the time.

“Don’t tell me she’s still trying to make a point? She really doesn’t understand when it’s just a little better to swallow her foolish pride.”

If he was honest, turned tables, he'd probably have done the same...

As he hissed, there was a small peeping sound coming from the door, he had given you the code to enter. San turned around, his head tilting slowly as he watched you enter the loft.

Your hair was down, flowing over your shoulders, likely to deal with all the water styling for your shoot today. This was the first time he saw you wearing a dress, and it suited you well, especially as the neutral makeup highlighted your natural beauty, complemented with the soft green color of the dress.

He couldn’t deny that the little angry frown on your features was endearing.

“What’s this all about? It’s highly unprofessional for the two lead actors of a drama to meet like this. Yes, I still came because …” you paused, seemingly trying to come up with a good defense, but was there one?

“I … don’t care. I just wanted to tell you that. I do not care if you deem me unfit to be an actress. We get told that all the time. This is harder for us than for you. We aren’t allowed to make mistakes; your type, on the other hand, gets away with most.”

San hummed as he listened to you, picking up the two glasses and offering one to you. “Alcohol-free. Now, why don’t we sit down and chat? I agree with you, it’s unprofessional and risky, but I do it for the success of the show if you want.”

There was confusion on your face when you still accepted the glass and watched San sit down.

“After today, I am willing to admit, I see potential in you, maybe even a hint of talent if polished properly,” he hummed, taking a sip from his drink, and pointing to the couch opposite for you to sit down.

He enjoyed all of your reactions, wondering if you were aware just how expressive you were with them.

“I don’t understand…”

Finally, you started to listen and joined him.

“Your character, Summer, she’s all about being relatable and raw. You can capture this perfectly, and your way of showing emotions — not many actors have that these days. However, you need to learn to control them, for them to come out when you need it, not when they want to.”

It seemed you took a sip from the drink just to deal with your confusion. You swallowed while San placed his glass on the table.

“How do you mean that?”

Now, he had no intention of suddenly being all kind and polite. Truths were there to cut so you learned not to do it again.

“You are like a puppy that learned to roll over and play dead, but you’re still wiggling your tail out of control so everyone knows. You need to learn to use your skill of expressing emotions so openly to your advantage, when you want it, and not because you are reacting to your co-actor. You were almost melting when we kissed.”

Your cheeks took on a dark red shade not even the makeup could hide, and San just grinned almost sweetly at you.

“Do you ever say anything nice?”

“I just did. I told you that you have potential and I invited you here. You asked me to give you a chance, your way, and I am willing. I believe if you learn how to guide your talent a little, we can benefit. The viewers have a much easier time connecting with an actress who seems to feel like that, and I need the good views. I will help you be a bit more in control. In two days, we will shoot the scene that likely will go viral if we do it right and decide if the viewers ship us, our chemistry.”

It was meant to be THE kissing scene, the one they would use for the preview and trailers, to convince everyone of their great chemistry, and their characters were meant to be lovers, not seeming lost and confused unlike in the scene today.

“The kiss was promising today, but in that scene, we will actually have to make sure we capture the chemistry on point. No emotional moment occurred to explain why it would be different I will show you how to do it, so that when we shoot it, all will be quick and easy.”

San finally settled down by your side, and he could see how you just stared at him.

“I ask kindly for your permission so that you do not spit at me again,” he chuckled but leaned in close, ensuring you could feel his breath tickling your skin.

“Y/N, would you let me teach you how to play that scene perfectly, so that people may adore us when the episode airs?”

“Fine.”

He was still rude, but the truth was you had come here hoping that maybe the two of you could find a middle ground. San did not need to madly fall in love with you; all you were asking for was a chance. Yes, you knew what you were doing was a little below the belt, but show business had never been easy.

Besides, he was not forcing you. Here he was, asking, and maybe, in a way, you both depended on it.

San still seemed too pleased, but he was relaxing back, giving you another look: “I take it you have studied the scene already. The benefit of us speaking ahead of the record is we can see to adjust it our way. Take it as advice for the future; you are the actor, and you can act in a way that makes those scenes a little more endurable.”

He reached out and played with a few strands of your hair. Maybe this would be a good idea; if you got comfortable with him, acting in those love scenes you were soon going to film could be easier, and you would no longer have to overthink if he was going to trick you.

“Episode five, after Baek and Summer go to the auction to save his mother’s necklace from being sold off, they return to her place. It’s before he intends to run away, so the atmosphere is playful and sensual. Baek admires her beauty from afar before slowly moving over. He places the necklace around her neck, his finger playing with it, and then he loosens her hair, and they kiss, tongue and biting."

Any time San was surprised, you felt a level of satisfaction that you managed to do just that, but quickly, it turned into a pleased smile.

“That’s exactly it. I see you memorized it. The scene is early on, and if we manage to carry over the chemistry there, the heartbreak later will be efficient. Good for us; your outfit is perfect. You just have to tie up your hair, and we can move over to the door and begin right at the start. It will help us if we play through the entire scene. We go through it, but any time you feel uncomfortable, voice it. We can practice and cheat with the perspective, so the kiss is not too awkward but satisfying to the producers.”

You slowly rose, fixed your dress, and cleared your throat as you tied up your hair loosely while walking over to the door. San was right there, relaxing against the door, grinning at you: “Are you ready, pretty girl?”

Really? You hissed a little: “What’s up with the name? Can people not come up with better insults?”

San hummed, shrugging a little: “Not an insult. You are that, a pretty girl. What’s wrong with it? I mean it, but if you want to strictly keep it professional, think of it as a way to warm up. The characters return from the auction, they managed to reach their goal, and now, in a mood of celebration, a couple all comfortable and confident. We have to get in the mood.”

That was fair, so you grinned: “All right then, hottie. Shall we get going?” He wasn’t annoyed at all, more pleased that you got the point, or so you guessed.

You walked to the door, taking his hand as San seemed to inhale before just falling into the role. It was like there was a switch, leaving his personality behind and becoming his character entirely.

“I can’t believe we really did it, seeing their faces when you just jumped up and then did the final bid the second it was about to end,” San sighed in relief as he turned around and looked at you.

It was silly, you looked at him, and your heart was beating a little; this was the most passion you had worked with yet. Not that the other actors had been poor at their jobs, but it felt more routine, like they just got it done because it was written in the script.

You smirked: “Of course, I told you. Never underestimate my talent! I knew they would not see that one coming, but now it’s done. I am glad we were able to get the necklace back. I know how much it means to you.”

Your arms curled around his neck, and you went on your toes to get closer to his face. San’s eyes wandered all over your face like you were the most beautiful person he had ever encountered.

“That is because you truly are the most amazing person I have ever met, Summer,” he whispered and allowed one of his hands to wander up, placing it very gently underneath your chin. Your gazes locked for some time.

“Stay the night?” you whispered, your tone more playful now. Slowly, you let go of him, turning around playfully, giving him an inviting look as you settled down on the couch. Right, Summer was about to take out her earrings. You did not wear any, but you wore some hair clips, so you gently removed them, placing them on the table.

San was watching you, leaning against a door. The two of you did everything extra slow since shooting a scene meant you did it more than once quite often if the camera needed a different perspective and did not always capture it right away on the first try.

As he moved slowly to you, your gaze lowered a little, and he sat down next to you.

“You are starring, Sir,” you teased. This actually wasn’t part of your dialogue, but somehow, it felt natural. Your character was supposed to be a little all over the place but not shy, at least not in this scene. If San was permitted to add as he wished, why not you?

“What can I do? It’s hard not to look at you,” he smiled softly and reached out, brushing over your chin before his gaze lowered, resting on your neck.

San seemed to think for a moment before he slowly leaned back. The moment when Baek would take out the box with the necklace, your co-star replaced it by unclipping the one he had been wearing underneath his tight long sleeve.

“And maybe that is because seeing you in this really is a dream come true,” he whispered, and as he leaned in, you felt his breath tickling your skin, the scent of a perfume you had never smelled before. He gently placed it around your neck. In the show, this would be some kind of elegant piece, but San had given you something long with a metal tag on the end.

Curiosity was fought back to look at it. Your fingers only touched the cool metal chain around your neck.

“But… this is your mother’s. You should keep it…” you tried to insist, but San moved closer.

“My mom wanted it to be on the neck of my future wife, and while we are both too young to think about it just yet, it is right where it belongs, Y/N,” he was so close now that you naturally leaned slightly closer.

The fact he called you by your name was surprising, and there it was again, the moment he did it on purpose. Was it to teach you the lesson of trying to control your emotions rather than being controlled by them or something else?

“I love you, Y/N,” San said so passionately that you needed to swallow hard. It was good that from this point on, the scene was only meant to be carried by acting and no further words.

His big hand moved and pulled the hairband out, allowing your hair to fall over your shoulder.

“You truly are beautiful, you know?” he breathed, and he was close to kissing you now. The camera was meant to capture the teeth and tongue, just to give the viewers some imagination without breaking what was acceptable for an evening show.

“Is it comfortable like that, or should I move a little?” he asked, and his voice was warm and sincere. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t he always be so kind and supportive?

“It’s okay like that, thank you,” you whispered, a little shy. San just smiled and nodded as he leaned in.

Your arm carefully moved to rest on his back, and then you kissed him harder than intended. It started slow and soft, but somehow you felt encouraged to show him that you could do this because you wanted to, and the force you used was a bit stronger than intended. You wanted to play with the camera too, capture the tease without too much. Your teeth bit his lower lip, and you gave him a challenging look, your tongues met in a playful dance.

You had his attention entirely. San was grinning and about to depen the kiss a little further than intended based on script but then the door opened.

The two of you instantly froze, and it was hard to say if it was relief or shame, but it was Seonghwa who stepped inside, looking beyond alarmed.

“What are the two of you doing here?!”

Now that you thought about it… you could imagine what this would look like.

“San?!” Seonghwa was strict, and the way he spoke like that with him made you wince.

You were about to sit up, trying to say something when San stood protectively in front of you.

“This was my idea. I thought it would help her relax since we are shooting this scene in two days. It’s tough, being expected to film this kind of kiss with a person that’s an asshole.”

Seonghwa and you both stared at him, and you wondered why that was. Did San never do this before, or was there something else to it?

The makeup artist sighed, shaking his head: “If anyone would have… never mind. We just got a call, and we have to shoot one of the night scenes tonight, so you have to come with me.”

You cleared your throat, fixing your dress again.

“Yes, you should go. Thank you for guiding me through the scene.”

San was looking at Seonghwa before looking back at you, and somehow, he seemed oddly displeased.

As you started to take the necklace off your neck, he shook his head: “Keep it. Think of it as a poor apology gift for insulting you during the table read. I'm sorry for that. I’ll see you on set tomorrow.”

San stepped out without even giving you a chance to say anything. Seonghwa only offered a small smile before he followed out.

As you were alone, you sighed: “Yeosang will murder me if he finds out about this.”

You played with the necklace and finally remembered the tag. As you turned it around, it was a name that said nothing to you until something came to mind. You pulled out your phone and browsed through San’s filmography.

Right, his first role was playing the son of a very popular actress at that time. He only had two scenes, enlisting into the military to be written off in episode three. The name on this tag was of that character. San just gifted you something from his very first set, likely very special if he bothered to wear and keep it after all those years.

“This guy, can he please decide what his personality is like?”

“Hey, Joong, do you think San has the celebrity sickness?” you asked while standing still, watching what the stylist was trying to decide for you to wear for the preview photos.

It had been a strange month. You had barely filmed with San, or at least it felt that way. Most of your scenes had been with the other cast members first, and only now were they starting to focus more on the actual ones with the romantic interest.

However, ever since that day, San seemed different. He was polite, greeted you, and a few days ago, you could have sworn he even smiled at you when you accidentally spilled cappuccino over the expensive jacket that was a product placement.

The man laughed: “I didn’t take you for somebody who uses such words.” He was obviously amused while holding a few blouses against you, trying to see which one he liked best with your hair color.

“I mean, I did read how some actors have it when they find success and then later look back, realizing they have been little rich monsters.”

Hongjoong had once said he enjoyed that you were still quite uncaring with your words around the staff who were not the ones making big choices, and it likely reflected in this moment as well.

“Little monster, you say? Well, I admit that San has changed over the years. I worked on some previous projects with him, but I wouldn’t say it was fame. You see, San had to work really hard and change quite a bit to get where he is now. He’s not the height producers want, and he used to be a very soft personality. When he was rejected for a really important role after first being announced as the pick, he sat down, bulked up, and changed to the way he is now. I do not think he has celebrity sickness, but show business does change people, not always for the better, especially if you do not have somebody to keep you grounded. You see, his best friend moved abroad after college. He was the one who always balanced him, but these days, San spends a lot of time alone. How do you like this one?”

You had gotten used to going with Hongjoong’s outfit recommendations and Seonghwa’s makeup guidelines. You were about to be a lead actress for the public, and even your social media had to match it.

“I think I like the mint one,” you said, more lost in thought and aware of Hongjoong’s little grin.

“It’s your color. Now, how about we say this set is the most relaxed I have seen him in a while, yes? Anyway, it is getting late, and I know the actors are meant to go out and have barbecue together today. Half of the filming is done now. You work hard and should relax a little. Get some rest tomorrow. In two days, we will take the most beautiful photos.”

The stylist winked and sent you off. All you could do was sigh as you pulled on your thin jacket again. You wore jeans and a blouse gifted by a brand, your hair up in a modern bun, and delicate earrings finishing the look. Underneath, the gifted necklace was hidden. Everyone else was likely already there, and you realized how you were the only one without a car or a driver. Now that filming was going well, there was no reason for Yeosang to be by your side the entire day.

“Need a ride?”

San’s voice made you look up, and for a moment, you thought you might be imagining it. His hair was undone, glasses sat on his nose, and he had a very lazy smile on his lips. The jeans and oversized hoodie with a jacket on top were quite different from the always very styled actor you knew.

“I… would like that, thank you,” you cleared your throat. He nodded and led you to his car, which was parked not too far away. To your surprise, it was also quite on the average side, but then it made sense. If you were famous, you would likely try to keep some privacy.

San waited for you to get in and get comfortable before he started to drive. You were silent until the first red traffic light forced the two of you to stop.

“Do you have celebrity sickness?” you blurted out and did not dare look at him, sinking into your seat when he laughed softly.

“Do you think so?” he asked, and you were relieved to see he was taking this incredibly dumb question with a humor you hadn’t expected. He was tapping against the wheel, and eventually, you dared to peek over. To your surprise, he actually seemed to be thinking about it.

“You were an ass when we first met. Sure, I am not really the super-experienced actress, but it was a bit too strong,” you mumbled.

“Maybe I did. Wooyoung always kept me grounded, but when he moved abroad, I guess I just got so used to showbiz, I forgot what it meant to be me or to show any compassion toward people who likely started acting for the same reason I did: dreaming to play a specific kind of role, a stage, or maybe go somewhere. Then, it takes somebody bold to call it out so you wake up and realize it.”

Your gazes met briefly before his focus returned to the road ahead.

“I did mean it. I am sorry I was like that, but I am thankful you dared to point it out. It won’t make up for it, but I will try to do better now. I actually contacted some of those I worked with to apologize. I don’t really think they will answer me back, but who knows?”

If he really did that, San must have gotten over a lot of pride. Even if you felt sorry, doing something like that was surely not easy.

You drove into the parking lot, and he just leaned back. “I guess you were my cure, Y/N,” he replied with a gentle smile, and the two of you stared. For a moment, it was almost as if he wanted to say or maybe do something, but you just got too nervous, opening the door of the car.

“We should go.” Before he could say anything else, you were out of the car and rushing off.

Everyone seemed surprised to see San so relaxed and wearing such a casual outfit, but there wasn’t much time to think about it. You were seated between some other cast members, and all you could do was glance over at him now and then, noting how he smiled and seemed more at ease.

Hours flew by, and before you noticed, everyone slowly excused themselves. Tomorrow would be your first free day in over a month, and you couldn’t wait to sleep in.

San and you were among the last to leave, and as you stepped outside, the night was much colder than expected. Before you could even joke about it, the weight of a leather jacket rested on your shoulders.

“You shouldn’t get sick,” he mumbled, then suddenly took your hand, walking you back to the car. It was hard to say why you let him; maybe you had gotten used to his spontaneous actions after filming several scenes together that felt quite similar.

The walk to the car suddenly felt long, and he was swinging your arms like some middle schoolers in love. He turned his head to look at you.

“Is this okay with you?” he asked, as if remembering to check in with you. It was sweet and innocent, and he almost looked troubled, fearing you might pull your hand away. You tapped a finger against your cheek, pretending to think about it before laughing.

“I guess. You still have a few weeks before I get so famous you’ll have to hide me,” you joked. Somehow, his expression told you he had thoughts about it, but those likely did not matter. Maybe he would tell you next time.

“I shall make the most out of it then, and for all else, people do love the story of two actors who played love interests admitting they fell in love on set… in theory. So, what if, once filming is wrapped up, you’d go out with me?”

“Somebody is getting bold,” you replied without thinking, cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you. But then, you thought about it. There was no denying that you had grown fond of him, enjoyed working with him, and treasured his little gift. The way he looked at you made you feel certain ways, but you couldn’t say exactly what it was just yet. Not to forget, the rough start.

Then, maybe you needed to be the one now guiding San, to find himself back again.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing where things might go between us.”

That was all he needed to hear. You saw it in the way he looked at you and nodded.

“There won’t be any rush. I think I might reconsider the importance and urgency of my plans for a little while now that I’ve refocused on what really matters.”

San looked up at the cloudy sky; the stars were never visible from here.

You let him be, and the two of you just enjoyed the small walk before you got back in the car. Your apartment was quite close, and soon, he was standing in front of your building.

“Thank you for driving me and, you know, being nice,” you chuckled.

“Thanks for healing me,” he winked, but there was no obvious tease in his voice.

You exhaled as you got out of the car, leaving the door open as you turned around to look at San.

“I will see you the day after tomorrow for the photoshoot. Sleep well.” You flashed him a final smile before stepping back.

“You too, pretty girl,” he answered, his eyes not leaving you even as you closed the door and headed toward your tiny apartment.

But then … You turned around on your heels, walking back to the car, and as if reading your mind, San was opening the window.

You looked at each other playfully as you grinned: “Maybe you would like to come upstairs and have a cup of water, handsome?”

San laughed, turning off the engine. “I like the sound of that.”