#he even got ones at the back of the cupboard that you haven’t used in months

[kingkatsuki]

You ask Bakugou for help opening the lid of a tight jar once, and the sweet smile you give him paired with a “You’re so strong, Bakugou.” is enough to have him going around the kitchen and deliberately tightening all the lids on every single jar so you have to ask for his help again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest. 

“Ade,” you huff. 

She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?” 

Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.” 

One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing. 

“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?” 

You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother. 

“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.” 

“Best days of my life,” you agree. 

“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says. 

As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears. 

“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires. 

Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences. 

“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.” 

“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.” 

“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--” 

“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.” 

“That’s not fair,” Kitty says. 

“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?” 

“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues. 

You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.” 

“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists. 

“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.  

You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting. 

That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince. 

“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?” 

She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.

Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?” 

You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you. 

You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all. 

As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working. 

You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all. 

You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick. 

It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair. 

Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils. 

You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got. 

You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night. 

You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous. 

Is death so bad when living is terrifying?��

You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries. 

“You. Come.” He orders you. 

You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous. 

“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.” 

You look down. “My shoes...” 

“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms. 

You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking. 

“Is it my father?” You ask. 

“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway. 

You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you. 

“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.” 

You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told. 

[ahockeywrites]

surprise pt 1- nh13

pairing: nico hischier x girlfriend!reader word count: 1k warnings: no explicit smut but thoughts of it, swearing bc I’ve written it authors note: this isn’t smut! are you proud of me? part two coming next week lovelies :) part 2

“In what world did my sister think that it would be a good idea for me to go to this event with Dawson,” you groaned into Nico’s chest.

“In her defence,” Nico nuzzled his head into your shoulder. “We haven’t told anyone we’re dating.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want to go to an event with her boyfriend’s friend.” Sighing, you got up from your boyfriend’s lap and walked over to check the calendar that was on your refrigerator. You knew that the charity casino event was coming up and you had told Nico to go it alone. Your sister was going with Luke, naturally, and you were more than happy to have a night in just watching a movie.

But no, she thought that you hadn’t had a good lay in over a year and that you should hang out with Dawson. Little did anyone know that you were perfectly happy dating Dawson and Luke’s captain.

You sipped on the cool water and tried to think of ways of not going to the event with Dawson. He was lovely but if you were going to be going to a Devils event, it would be on the arm of your boyfriend.

“How about,” you thought out loud, “I say that I’ve got a work thing that night that u can’t get out of?”

“Nah,” Nico stole the glass of water from you and downed the rest of it. “You’d have told her about that already if you knew.”

“What if I told Alex I was coming down with food poisoning?”

“Babe, all you eat is chicken tenders and pizza,” Nico raised an eyebrow at you. “You cannot get food poisoning from sticking something in the oven at 180 degrees for 20 minutes.”

You rolled your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right. 

“How about I just say no?” You sighed as all the thinking had started to hurt your head.

Nico ran his hands through his hair as he thought about the situation that your sister had put you in.

“Right,” Nico started. “You tell Alex that you can’t go, I say I’m bringing a plus one. We just announce the relationship by us walking into the event together?”

You and Nico had thought about telling your friends and family about your relationship but you hadn’t found the right time. Maybe this was the right time. 

“Okay, I like that plan,” you agreed with your boyfriend. “Now what do I need to wear?”

You flattened down the skirt of your dress before reapplying a touch of lipstick. Nico had let you take free rein of his en-suite bathroom and you had done exactly that. All your skincare and makeup products covered the wash basin and overflowed to the cupboard above the sink. It was a struggle to constrain yourself with all the products you needed and how were you to know exactly what shade of red lipstick was going to work with your dress without trying every single one on. 

“Nico!” You shouted from the bathroom as you struggled to put your 13 necklace, a birthday present to you from your boyfriend, on. You had to contort yourself into a position to get the matching bracelet on and the trying it again for the necklace just wasn’t going to happen.

The door to the bathroom opened and Nico stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. You looked beautiful in the dark blue dress that hugged all your curves and made Nico want to rip the dress off you and take you right then and there. But no, you had an event to go to first.

“Nico,” you groaned. He shook himself back out of his trance and walked over to stand behind you, hands resting on your hips.

“Fucking beautiful baby,” Nico whispered as his hands wandered further up your body to gently cup your breasts. Your head leant back to rest on his chest which exposed more of the skin of your neck. Nico’s lips started pressing kisses along your neck before you had to shake him off, even if you didn’t want to.

A pout formed on Nico’s face as you looked back at him via the mirror in front of you and instructed him to put the necklace on you. The number 13 sat on your upper chest and Nico’s cock hardened as he looked at it. It was a claim. A claim that you were his. Not Dawson’s, not anyone else’s. You were his. Nico knew that his eyes wouldn’t be on anyone else, how could they be when you looked like that.

“Let’s head out,” Nico commanded and it sent a shiver down your spine. It made you wonder if he would be like that when you got back. “Your red bottoms are by the door ready to go.” His lips pressed to yours and as you turned around, his palm gently swatted against your ass which looked perfect in the dress.

The pair of you were quiet in the drive to the venue. A combination of nerves and awkwardness sat uncomfortably in the bottom of your stomach. Ideas of how Alex would react to you walking in on the arm her boyfriend’s captain, how she would know that you had been lying for the past nine months. It was torturing you and Nico could notice.

“Schatzi,” he spoke softly, picking up one of your hands and rubbing circles on the back of it. “Alex will understand. It might not be right now, but she will. I promise you.”

“I really hope so,” you sniffled out a response but couldn’t let yourself cry. You never kept anything from your sister, she knew everything about your life. Except Nico. She knew nothing about how you fell for the captain of the New Jersey Devils. 

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student Pt.4

Masterlist!

(Fem reader, bit of angst.. ish? suggestive, dramaa , got a lot to catch up on so this is a pretty long part😚 you guys deserve it tho, not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

(Quick little note: hey guys I haven’t written in a while so I may be a bit rusty but I hope it’s ok)

“How’d you get here so early?” Lizzy walks up to me, I’m sat on the bench where Chris’ stuff was previously. “Oh I.. I came in here at break to get ready before everyone.. I feel insecure for anyone to see me getting dressed.” I lie through my teeth, less than half hour ago the exact person who is teaching us this gym class was balls deep inside of me.

“You are stunning y/n,” Liz chuckles “no need to be insecure but okay.” She side hugs me gently. As the class fills up Chris walks through the door from the cupboard, the exact one we were.. you know. His eyes dart to mine and I awkwardly smile. “Okay girls, we have an important choice to make..” he starts to speak.

“You have a choice between what you wanna do in gym class, basketball with me or soccer with Ms Jones.” He clears his throat, “so uh.. stand on this side of the room if you wanna do basketball, and that side for soccer.” He points and shrugs. I stand up and follow Lizzy, she starts to walk to the Soccer side and I pause.

“Y/n? You love soccer right? Come on.” She smiles, “I’d rather.. step outside my comfort zone, you know.. push myself to try something new.” I smile enthusiastically, but the truth is I just wanna see Chris more. “Oh okay! I’m good at basketball I’ll do it with you.” She walks back over to me.

There’s about 8 girls on the basketball side and the rest are standing for soccer. I guess they’d rather have a female teacher, I would too if my teacher wasn’t so hot, but it’s pretty bare I don’t know how we’d do with 4v4 in basketball. “You won’t like this..” Chris talks to the class, interrupting my thoughts. “We have to mix the female and male classes,” complaints fill the gym.

“I know, I know you guys don’t like it but, because of the work being done on the boys gym, the boys need to come into here. Temporarily, and then the class can go back to normal and we won’t have to split it.. okay?” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. All of a sudden, the boys pile into the gym.

Chris explains what either options are and all the boys start to pick a side. It’s fairly equal in the end, either side having a good amount of us but I start to feel anxious at the difference in how many girls are doing basketball compared to soccer. There’s a good 20 boys on this side.

The other group goes to the soccer field and we stay put. I get budged by a boy, he’s gotta be at least 6ft. “Ouch.” I mutter, he turns around to face me and I realise just how tall he is, the height difference is too different I don’t like it. “You alright? Sorry my friends push eachother around.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“I’m okay thanks.” I go to turn away and his hand places on the side of my arm, I tilt my head in confusion. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around.” He smiles, his brown eyes looking down at me. “I’m y/n, I tend to keep to myself.” I shrug. “I’m Mason.” He looks me up and down, “how tall are you?” He laughs lightly.

“I’m 5ft 3.. why?” I smile nervously. “I’m just worried how you’d do with a bunch of 6ft something boys playing basketball. You’re the shortest here.” He laughs. I hold back a smile, “I’ll be good. Bye Mason.” I rolls my eyes and I feel his gaze burning into me as I walk to Lizzy. “Flirting much?” She smirks, “no.. he’s not my type.” I shrug.

“Hmm sure.” She laughs slightly, I look over and see Chris looking at me, he turns his head to face the boys putting up the basketball hoops. I smile to myself, “ohh.” She whispers, drawing my attention to her, “hm?” She grins, “you like the teacher? I thought you liked Professor Sturniolo?” I shrug and sigh.

“Right let’s get into teams, we need two captains to pick the people for their team..” Chris spoke, “what about you Mason?” He scans the room, “no girls wanna be captain? Okay then Will you can be the other.” He smiles. His perfect smile.. perfect teeth. “Y/n.” Mason says my name and I look up to him, “what?” I awkwardly look around, “I want you on my team.” He looks down at me.

I look around, I’m the second person he’s picked.. why me? I know nothing about basketball and I’m not even his friend. “Oh.. okay.” I walk over to him. I see Chris glaring in the corner of my eye.

The teams get picked, Mason picked Lizzy because she’s my best friend, Which is nice I guess. They start to play, I don’t know much on basketball and I freeze when 5 boys rush past me to get the ball. “You okay?” Lizzy calls to me, she’s lucky she’s a tall girl. 5’9, she can keep up with them but I look like a lost puppy.

“No.” I say back to her and she chuckles before pointing next to me frantically, I turn and a basketball comes plowing into my face. I freeze again, not wanting to embarrass myself by crying but that fucking hurt like a motherfucker. I feel tears build in my eyes and Chris runs over to me, “hey you good?” He speaks softly and calmly, hands on my shoulders.

“I..” I go to answer but I just start crying. Without thinking he pulls me into his chest and hugs me. The sounds of feet scuffing on the ground stops, “you’re okay, just a scratch.” He smiles as I pull away from the hug and he turns my face, holding my cheek and observing the scratch. It feels like nobody’s here, it’s just us. Until..

“Everything good in here?” Its.. Matts voice? Chris’ hands drop off of me and all the other people are watching me. I feel nervous as Matt walks up to us, “I don’t have a class, thought I’d watch my brother teaching.” He spoke falsely as his eyes meet mine. “She ok?” He’s talking as if I’m not there. “Uh yeah.. gonna need to clean the scratch though.” Chris awkwardly chuckles.

“I can take her to clean it? Maybe she can explain how she walked out my class earlier.” He smiles, and a few ooos come from people around me. “Uh yeah okay.” Chris says, but I know deep down he doesn’t want me alone with Matt.

“Come on.” Matt motions me to walk with him. “Distracted in class?” He spoke up, breaking the short silence. “Uh no. I wasn’t looking and it came out of nowhere.” I shrug. “At least Chris was there to give you a little comfort hm?” He spoke harshly and sarcastically. I just hum in response.

“Where’d you go when you stormed out of class?” He turns into the janitors closet, where the med kits are kept and I follow. “To the bathroom.” I lie, “don’t lie to me y/n.” He sits me down on a stool and grabs a med kit off the shelf. “I’m not..” he cuts me off by shushing me. “You went to gym class didn’t you? Wanted to practice? I bet you weren’t practicing basketball were you?” He hisses as he leans down with an alcohol wipe in his hand.

“I.. what do you” I breathe in sharply as he pushes the wipe on my face without warning, the stinging causing my eyes to water. “Ow.” I look up at him, blue eyes burning into mine. “You think I didn’t try to find you after you didn’t come back? I did.” He seems hurt.. does he know? He grips my chin and turns my head to get better access to the scratch which is bleeding lightly.

“What do you mean?” I speak innocently and he groans. “You’re a slut.” He smirks, “fucking slut.” He stands up and bins the wipe. “A slut? What do..” he cuts me off, “stop asking me what I mean y/n. You know exactly what I’m saying, you and Chris were.. practicing in the gym closet hm?” He sighs. My face goes red.

“I didn’t.. you were flirting with that new girl, I just..” I also sigh, he scoffs, “flirting? Don’t turn this on me, I wouldn’t have done anything with her but you? You brought it upon yourself to..” he grumbles as his eyebrows knit together, “well if you don’t want anything with me why should it matter? You said it yourself, you don’t wanna lose your job.” I smirk.

“I thought you wanted me y/n.. me.” His voice cracks slightly but he collects himself and leans against a shelf. “I’m a college student Matt, I’m gonna fuck as many people as I want and can, don’t take it personal.” I laugh. “You don’t get it y/n..” “no you don’t get it Matt.. I wanted you, so badly, I still do but Chris? He hasn’t treated me like shit.” I lean my head back.

“I’m sorry y/n. I just love my job I don’t wanna lose it.” He whispers, “you’ve made that clear professor Sturniolo. Thanks for helping with this scratch.” I get up and walk out the closet. He follows after me. I’m being dramatic I know, I’m making this about me, it’s his job and he loves it I shouldn’t try to get it the way but.. “Maybe I could show you that I do care?” He whispers as he catches up with me. “What do you..” I look at his face, his pupils have dilated and he’s smirking.

“Oh..” I turn to him, “what changed your mind?” I chuckle lightly, “I imagined Chris’ face when I tell him I fucked you better than he did.” He whispers his face full of lust, I fight my instincts to kiss him, because of cameras. “you really shouldn’t be so competitive.” I smile as I continue to walk. “Where can we go?” He mumbles.

“I’m not doing it with you right now, I’m still worn out from.. basketball?” I lie even though Matt knows what I mean, there’s a janitor at the end of the corridor. “Oh okay.” He fake pouts as I turn into the gym, “I’ll text you.” I smile before we part ways.

As I enter the gym, Chris walks up to me. “All good now?” He asks, tilting his head. “Yeah.” I smile lightly before I walk up to Lizzy, “you seem happy?” She laughs, “yep all good.” I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder and they turn me around. Mason, I forgot about him. “I’m so sorry, on behalf on James. Your cheek okay?” His hand hovers over the fading scratch.

I pull away from him, “yeah it’s okay thanks, maybe get James to apologise to me himself instead of you.” I look over at James, who waves awkwardly. “Copy that.” Mason spoke, stifling a chuckle. “Why are you laughing?” I ask, “Im sorry it’s just.. don’t worry.” He pats my shoulder and walks away.

Lizzy goes to say something but I stop her, “don’t. I’m not into him.” She laughs, “he’s into you though, why aren’t you into him? He’s tall, brunette, brown eyes, strong.. he’s the whole package.” I huff, “if he’s so amazing why don’t you ask him out?” I speak impatiently. “Because I’m.. I’m uh not into tall people.” She chuckles awkwardly.

“There.. you aren’t into his height and I’m not into his.. everything.” I smile softly.

Class ends and we sit in the gym, “wanna skip Math?” Lizzy speaks up, budging my arm to get my attention. “Where would we go?” I ask curiously, “the bathrooms? We can make a fake out of order sign and chill in there.” I laugh and grab her face, “Lizzy you genius!” I bring our faces close before letting go.

She clears her throat, “they don’t even use out of order signs anymore, they write it on paper it’s easy to copy.” She smiles at me and I quickly pull out my notebook, I hand her the notebook and a pen and she scribbles down “out of order.” She grabs tape out of her bag and sticks it on the top.

We run to the bathroom and stick the note on a door and sit in the cubicle. She sits on the toilet seat and I’m on the top of the toilet, where the flush is. My legs are either side of her and I accidentally kick her. “Sorry.” I whisper.

We hear someone enter the door and they start talking, “I’m telling you, I would climb him like a tree, have you seen his tattoos?” It’s the new girl, Kelly. “Not my type Kel.” Some girl speaks back, “yeah you love stuffing yourself full of bbc don’t you.” Kelly laughs loudly, “don’t say it like that, but.. basically yeah.” They start to giggle.

“Also how can you have a crush on a teacher? That’s like weird.” The other girl spoke, me and Lizzy are staying silent. “Yeah I wouldn’t do anything with him, I wish I could but maybe I’ll hit him up once we’re out of college.” She laughs, and they leave the bathroom.

She was talking about Matt.

A/n: ooooo, drama. Sorry for the long break, my posting is gonna be pretty messed up because your girl has appointments😚 but anyways.. y’all know I love to add to the plot so we’re plotting super hard rn, I need to feed y’all, ur basically my children fr<3 anyways I’ll stop yapping but dw you may get some Matt smut soon? Whattttt🙈 Also who tf is Mason bro💀 bros obsessed.

Anyway hope it was ok, I haven’t written in ages.

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1

[ang3lina-xoxo]

ghostface!chris + fem!reader

made by: ang3lina-xoxo only on tumblr!

authors note: i haven’t slept in days. (forgive me for any grammar errors, i’ll try to get better) ALSO i usually don’t use caps soooo…

also i might forgot fix a few things. so sorry if i forgot about that.

english isn’t my first language!! also this is my first fic so

!warnings: mentions of using a blade(knife), smut, shit writing. gaging, rough sex, edging, praise kink, chocking.

! ꩜₊ ⊹౨ৎᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

inspo: lil red on archive!

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─

when we are around the people we love, we feel safe, and we feel at ease. but, what do you do when the person you love goes missing when a murder is going around? and what if the person you love is the threat? who do you run to then?

when was the last ghost face attack? you can’t even remember, three years ago? maybe even four, but he’s back, and this time it isn’t a joke.

8:37 pm

you’re at the sturniolo’s house, although it’s quieter then usually is. the reason? Chris isn’t here. why? well that’s cause he’s all the way down in California for a modeling shoot, for fresh love of course.(or atleast you think) you don’t mind that he isn’t here, i mean you’re the closest to nick so it isn’t much of a problem.

you and nick sat on the couch, Trevor in between the two, as your eyes are glued to the tv screen, watching the news, which was odd because you aren’t a news person, you rather wait until it popped up one your fyp while you aimlessly scrolled, but this? this was different. this was specifically talking about the town you’re in, and how ghostface was back.

“could be some kid trying to be cool.” nick mumbled next to you, you didn’t have much to say so you just nodded in a agreement. nick reached out and grabbed the remote to the tv, he swapped the channel to a different news station but… the same thing, different reporters.

“alright, whatever we can watch a movie tomorrow, yeah?” nick sighed, looking at you.

“yeah.”

“alright the guest bedroom is free, like always. make yourself at home.”

“got it.”

11:32 pm

you slide on some pjs before walking down the stairs to the kitchen to get yourself a snack before you headed up, to your room. as you close the cupboard your phone begins to ring causing you to jump slightly. you let out a breath of relief and slight embarrassment realizing the noise was just your phone.
you pick up your phone dismissing the fact that it’s an unknown number.

“hello?” you answer

nothing..
“helloo?” you ask again moments from hanging up, when you hear a heavy breath through the phone. your body tenses up, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.


“who is this?” your thoughts immediately flooding with the murders happening in your town starting with a phone call.

the breathing sound continues until you hear a voice “you know who it is” a deep distorted voice vibrates through the phone. your breath quickens and you start to hyperventilate, your entire body shaking. you knew your luck would run out eventually, it was your turn to die now.


“where are you?” you say as confidently as possible, with tears welling up in your eyes. you look around yourself anxiously before running to the knife block to pull out your biggest knife for protection.

a deep chuckle rings through your ears “come find me doll, i’ve got a surprise for you” he taunts. you blink a couple times to clear your eyes and let fresh tears fall. you find yourself playing his game, searching for him. “can you see me?” you gulp dryly, as you slowly open the shoe closet.

(a shoe closet? great choice, champ.)

“of course i can love.” his voice cocky and horse, was it bad that you totally thought his voice was hot? maybe that’s an issue cause it’s a fucking murderer.

you searched aimlessly, as you slowly made your way towards nicks room to wake him up, when u here a raspy “stop.” your eyes flicker down to your phone, as you realize you weren’t on the phone, but the voice was in the same hall as you.

you’re about to scream when a hand is placed over your mouth, as a blade is pressed to your throat.

“walk.”

your hands wrap around his, trying to pull em off, as he drags you to the direction the guest bedroom.

the only sounds are your footsteps and your embarrassing whimpers.

his gloved hands travel up your arms gently touching your skin, you followed his movements with your eyes. his hands tighten on your neck/ throat signalling you to look at him.


your eyes meet again and your breath hitches at his cold gaze. he pushes you onto the bed behind you and you let out a scream (or tried to as it was quickly muffled but his hand covering your mouth.) at the sudden movement, he crawls on top of you and grabs the knife in one swift motion.

“we don’t want to wake them up now, do we?”

you shake your head no, in a desperate attempt to make him feel bad and go away.

he took the handle of the knife and trailed it down your body, leaving goose bumps in it’s wake.

he paused, leaving the knife on your lower stomach, as his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a black blindfold, his other hand pining you down. your sense of vision was quickly taken away, but you felt the handle of the knife trail lower and lower.

now, if you said you weren’t worked up, that was a lie, and he could tell by your body language.

his other hand hooks onto your waistband before pulling them and your panties down your legs. he then slid the knife lower, and lower.

he then flipped the knife and caught it by the blade, before pressing the handle onto your clit. you squirmed with unexpected pleasure letting out a small whimper at the touch.

“you’re absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous.” he coo’s. “yeah?” you questioned, your voice dry and raspy.

“yeah..” he answered immediately.

fuck, this was too good.

he slowly slides the handle down your folds and pushes it into your cunt, twinges of arousal shot though your core, you bit your lip containing a moan while your hand found your way to his bicep. Chris chuckled at your grip on his arm and pushed it into you again deeper this time making a loud moan fall from your lips. quickly overwhelmed as he repetitively pumped the knife inside of you slowly and teasingly as he admired you beneath him.

you bit your lip to stifle your moans.

chris quickly noticed and smirked, “good girl, don’t make a sound.”

you felt the knife pull out of you, as your legs are forced open by the nudge of his knees. chris dropped in-between your legs, of course you didn’t know this as you were blind folded. he placed his hands on the back of each thigh, as he pulled your legs onto his shoulders. “fuck, you’re stunning, ma’”

his hands could practically leave bruises by the way he was gripping your legs as if he was holding on for dear life.

he pressed a kiss to your core, causing your back to arch slightly after this, he fucking ate you out, praising you with his kisses.

(i have no idea how to write someone getting eaten out so uhhhhhhh)

as you reached your climax, he just had to stop there, before the sounds of a zipper being undone, and a belt falling to the ground is heard.

he lined his tip, running it against your sensitive folds to tease you, a small groan escaping his lips as he pulled away, suddenly you could feel all his inches getting pushed into you at once, without giving you a moment to get used to his size, he pounded into you, leaving you at his mercy as you tried not to whimper or moan to receive more of his praises.

“fuck, sweetheart…. you’re so perfect…” he whimpered

you whine hopelessly, in half pain half pleasure.
“take it.” he says through gritted teeth. chris’s gloved hand slides over your throat roughly squeezing the sides, almost immediately making you lightheaded. his other hand squeezes your hip roughly.

both of your moans flood the room as he fucks you senseless.

“such a good girl.” he whimpers. his hand travels from your neck to your mouth, sticking two fingers down your throat, making you gag, your eyes squeezing shut as he rode you though your high. Chris slows his pace, still catching his breath. he slides his dick out of you, he plants a small but loving kiss on the back of your head. “keep your head down, doll.” he says your eyebrows furrow at the odd request but you oblige.

a couple seconds pass of silence. “can i put my head up now?” you ask impatiently, muffled through the pillow.


silence. you sit up and look behind you only to see your empty bedroom, and his ghostface mask on your bed.

oh, and, chris is home early.

…………………………………………………

AHHHH this is absolute shit i’ll try harder in the future, trust.

[timetodecidedjo]

POOLVERINE NATION

i wrote it. i wrote the Friends fic.

i apologize in advance if it’s not as good as it could be, im a little rusty bc these 2 literally pulled me back into fic writing and i haven’t put anything out in years 🤣 it’s also not beta read so my apologies if it sounds jumbly and grammatically fucked up lmao.

if ya feel like reading some of my other work, you can read more on AO3, username xuaerduobb.

thank you for the motivation and for feeding into my fixation @greatsnakestintin and @avenging-captain ❤️💛

“Good morning!” Dopinder announced as he strolled into the apartment, a bit early to pick up Althea to take her to the grocery store. Logan typically did most of the since he was usually the one making all the meals, but every now and again, Al would want to get out of the apartment and do it herself. Al liked to hit the stores early in the morning before the crowds got to be too much, so Dopinder was instructed to be at the apartment for 7AM. He didn’t mind helping her out, and if anything, he really enjoyed the company.

Logan, just finishing making the three of them breakfast, sat down next to Wade at the kitchen table, his coffee now at an acceptable temperature. Wade was already suited up (sans the mask so he could eat) because he had a debriefing that morning at the Avengers Headquarters and was leaving right after he finished his breakfast. Logan took a sip of his black coffee from the Spice Girls mug he had found in the cupboard just as he felt Wade’s hand rest on his thigh underneath the table.The merc used his fingers to brush up against Logan’s blue flannel pajama bottoms, causing a shiver to roll up his leg. He took a deep breath as he soaked up Wade’s touch, trying his best to not arouse suspicion to the others.

You see, Wade and Logan, up until the last few months or so, had been at each other’s necks, bickering and squabbling at everything and nothing. Eventually, one magical night when they were both out working a small job over a few days in another city, it happened. After a long night of working a stakeout, they retreated back to the crummy motel they were staying in and had the talk. You know, the talk two people have when they’re both deeply in love with each other but won't admit it. It was the talk where you stay up all night just happy to be there to listen to what the other has to say, even if it’s mostly utter nonsense. Truthfully, both men had grown so tired of the constant fighting that was really just flirting in disguise. Logan had been the one to initiate the kiss that would turn into months of secret sex capades all the while they were falling more and more in love with each other. It had been absolutely perfect with no one else butting in on their developing relationship, and let’s face it, the sneaking around was a hell of a lot of fun too. They just wanted to keep it for themselves for a bit while it was still so new, so they couldn’t mess things up just yet.

“Punching the clock early this morning, DP?” Dopinder asked as he sat down on the old tattered couch in the living room. He turned his body to the side so that they could still talk from across the room.

Wade took a big bite of his scrambled eggs and swallowed them down with a sip of coffee made just the way he liked it. Logan always got it right.

“Crime doesn’t take a day off, Dopinder. Someone has to stay vigilant to protect the world against evil. You know, like wicked senators or money hungry Girl Scouts.”

“I truly admire your willingness to stand up for the little guy, Mr. Pool,” Dopinder grinned, stars practically shooting out of his eyes.

Logan rolled his eyes and groaned, looking over at their friend across the room.

“He’s going to a meeting, don’t feed into his bullshit.”

The merc glanced over at Logan and then at the imaginary audience in front of him.

“He’s just jealous because he’s basically my house husband now, but it’s fine. We’ll talk about it later in couple’s counseling, which we both desperately need, but not for our relationship. Mostly because of all the other life altering trauma.”

“Welp. Daddy’s off to work, kitten,” Wade said as he stood up from the table with his mask in his hand. The merc leaned down to plant a big juicy kiss on Logan’s lips, wanting to savor it as much as he could before having to leave for the day. When their eyes met, Logan looked at Wade with so much love and adoration… until both idiots finally realized what had just happened, and boy, did it hit them both like a ton of bricks. As far as everyone else knew, Wade and Logan didn’t kiss and they weren’t romantic with each other. Wade was no stranger to being touchy feely with pretty much everyone, but this wasn’t just being touchy feely and this wasn’t just anyone. This was Logan. This was Wade and Logan.

Wade, making an executive decision, walked around to the other side of the kitchen table and took Al’s chin into his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Have a great time at the supermarket, Althea. Make sure to grab some more French toast sticks. We’re running low.”

“What the fuck! What the hell was that about?!” Al screeched in her chair as she tossed her fork down onto the plate, causing a sharp pang in everyone’s ears.

Wade continued on his kissing rampage and planted a big one right onto Dopinder’s mouth, a total look of shock and horror plastered all over his face.

“Dopinder! Always a pleasure!” The merc chimed and walked away as he pulled his mask over his cancer ridden face. Logan stood up and followed Wade out of the door, keeping his cool as best as he could and trying to play all of this off as if it was nothing but Wade being Wade. He shut the door behind them and smacked his boyfriend on the shoulder.

“I understand why you did what you did and I appreciate it, but did you have to kiss Al? She’s fuckin’ blind, idiot!”

Wade just stood there and stared at his lover for a second, probably the longest he had ever gone without saying anything while he was conscious.

“Do you not remember when she almost caught us a few weeks ago? She hears everything, honey badger. Everything! The walls are paper thin. I had to cover my bases.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, The Wolverine sighed and smacked his hand to his face, knowing full well he was going to have to try to come up with some kind of story where he stabbed Wade in the hallway for kissing him.

“Please come home to me in one piece,” Logan pleaded when he looked up, using his best puppy dog eyes.

With one swift movement, the merc had pulledc his mask off to give Logan one final kiss until he could come home later in the day.

“Always, peanut.”

[taekookielove0130]

Slowly, Unintentionally.

Part 3 Pairing: Idol!Min Yoongi x Nerd!Reader

Summary:

          Y/N and Yoongi are two individuals in completely different worlds who collide due to an arranged marriage. What happens when there’s somebody else living with them too?

⚠️ Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst, heartbreak, and crying. Tissues are highly recommended!

Part 1 :

Part 2:

One week later...

 Y/N's POV

It’s been a week since a beautiful angel stepped into our lives and we’ve already grown so close. I can say I truly love Ae-cha with all my heart. We spend so much time together. She helps me out in the kitchen (even though it just means she’s going to rummage through the cupboards and find a good snack) and even slips into my bed late at night. She’s sneaky and cute and just downright lovely to me. Despite the way Yoongi despises me with every fibre of his being, I can say that he’s at least able to tolerate my presence now. Barely, but still.

I’m broken out of my thoughts as I feel a pair of small hands sneak around my waist.

“Oh, you’re back!” I say and turn to look at Ae-cha who beams at me, nodding eagerly. Today, I took a leave from my office just to make sure I was there for Ae-cha as she came back from her first guitar lesson. I hoped I'd be at least a little helpful for her and was definitely not disappointed as my little girl came back home and immediately sought me out. She starts talking animatedly about how wonderful her teacher had been and how patient he was to make sure she got all the basics right before beginning their lesson.

Knowing that she probably already knew all those basics but still liked appreciating the teacher for her thoughtfulness, I smile at her and then realize there’s another person in the kitchen at the sound of someone clearing their throat. I realize it’s Yoongi by the sound and turn around returning to my work as I know he wants to talk to Ae-cha. Hence, you can see I’m surprised when he softly calls out,

“Y/N.”

Hiding the fact that my heart just skipped a goddamn beat hearing him speak my name in such a soft tone, I slowly turn to face him. He’s standing there. Leaning against the top of the kitchen counter, looking impeccably handsome as ever.

“Can we talk?”

The softly posed question both confuses and scares me to an equal level though I just gulp, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat and manage to muster a believable smile.

“Yeah, sure.” I say and find myself even more confused as he instructs Ae-cha to go to her room and complete her homework. The little girl turns to send a secretive smile at me and runs outside, giggling after I dazedly smile back at her.

Yoongi stays there for a while, watching her go before he directs his attention at me. Being the centre of attention has always made me nervous and anxious but I don’t understand why being the centre of Yoongi’s attention has me feeling happy and powerful. It feels as if l my life I was used to being invisible, made peace with the fact but If Yoongi looks at me, I never want him to look away. He walks towards me and stops at an arm’s distance.

“I spoke to Ae-cha’s guardian yesterday and he told me that adoption would be a good option if we want to keep her with us. Otherwise, according to the law she’ll have to be sent to an orphanage. My legal team has told me that adoption can only be possible if there’s a functioning relationship between the couple. It’s said that the officers are hard to convince unless the pair have and understanding with each other. I know that we haven’t exactly been a proper couple but do you think we can at least try to pretend?

The fact that he wanted to talk to me only because it was about Ae-cha breaks my heart again. Even worse, he’s just giving that to me as a piece of information, not even slightly caring about my opinion. I struggle to gather the broken pieces before I say,

“Yeah, I think we can.”

He doesn’t make my struggle easier when he speaks again,

“Thanks. But you know that I’m only asking you this for Ae-cha, right? It has nothing to do with us.”

I feel tears prick my eyes but I hold on, deciding not to break down in front of him. I offer my best smile to him and nod.

He replies with an,

“Oh good. See you later then.” and walks out.

I run to my room and lock the door before crying my hearts out. Within a few minutes, I hear a soft knock on my door. Groaning, I'm about to tell whoever it is to go away when

"Y/n, Are you in there?" Ae-cha's voice sounds from the other side of the door. Panicking slightly, I sniff a few times, hurriedly running to the restroom and splashing my face with water.

"Yeah, what's up?" I ask, smiling brightly at her after opening the door to my room.

The little girl eyes me up and down suspiciously as if she isn't convinced everything's fine.

"hm, I was going to watch a movie. Wanna join?"

I frown, trying to find out why exactly she's behaving as if she knows everything before shrugging as to say,

"Sure, why not."

Ae-cha settles down on the couch, flipping through the programs to find a good movie while I make some popcorn for us.

After we settle comfortably on the couch and the movie is playing, I space out. Not that I mean to, but the recent events all awaken my overthinking abilities. I had a pretty good day from the morning, what with Ae-cha's guitar lessons and all but once again, Yoongi had to ruin it. But even with how badly he treats me, I cannot bring myself to hate this man. I'm more annoyed than angry actually. If he wanted to go about the adoption process, I'm pretty sure he'll be able to surpass all the legal procedures with his societal standing and popularity. But he was deciding to do it the legal way. And I respect that, truly. But the least he could do for me, was to treat me like an actual human being and consider my feelings about the whole things. At least for the sake of pretending, we had to get to know each other. He just...

As the million wild thoughts race through my mind, I feel a soft warm body slowly move towards me on the couch. Turning, I see e-cha snuggling under my arm, cuddling closer and laying her head on my shoulder. at least, she tries to but with her height, she's only successful at lading on my chest. Laughing softly, I pull her closer, creating a comfortable space for her to lie down on the couch.

Smiling up at me, she leans closer and for a second I'm almost afraid. But then, her soft lips gently graze my cheek and I sit, frozen at what just happened. Then, she gets back to her previous position. Pleasantly surprised, I'm only able to wrap her up in my arms and almost miss it when she whispers softly,

"I'm there for you."

The burn of my eyes and the sudden tightness in my throat are all to familiar but i stubbornly blink them back, only nodding and pressing a kiss to her temple. She looks up at me and we smile at each other.

This wonderful creature, so small. But filled with so much knowledge. I sit there in awe trying to comprehend how she can be so understanding in spite of not understanding!?!?

I finally decide, I can tackle whatever Yoongi throws t me, no matter how hard as long as I have my dear Ae-cha by my side. I love her. And I love him. In different ways. Yet at the same time, soo similar.

_______________________________________________________

That was quite a long break. I apologize for it. But as you can see, I'm back. I'm working on this fic and a small one-shot based on Jimin. SO, stay tuned. Do tell me what you think.

Does Ae-cha KNOW what happened between them? Is Yoongi doing this the legal way just for formality's sake or for something else? Ae-cha is actually and angel, isn't she?

[13thdoctorposts]

At some point 13 fans needs to actually put the numbers to paper on the era's audience numbers, because my recollection is that they're perfectly on par and at times even better than Capaldi's and several of the latest specials. I'm tired of haters whining about 'everyone hated it' when they mean misogynists targeted it and boycotted it from the very instance of a rumour that 13 would be a woman.

Peter Nolan from Blogtor Who did a post on the numbers after the airing of Power of the Doctor, in one section of the post he compares the Whittaker and Capaldi eras…

“It’s remarkable then, that the Whittaker era of Doctor Who is overall on course not only to retain the audience it was given, but actually very slightly grow it. The average Thirteenth Doctor was watched by 4.67m viewers, up 0.12m (2.6%) on the 4.55m average of the Twelfth Doctor. It’s median viewing figure of 4.21m, meanwhile, is 0.34m (7.4%) lower than Capaldi’s, representing the boost Whittaker’s average is given by the large audiences for her first series. But overall, we haven’t seen Doctor Who just do a respectable job all things considered. Rather, it actually got ratings that would be good a decade ago.”

You can check out the whole article here https://www.blogtorwho.com/doctor-who-power-of-the-doctor-viewing-figures/?amp=1

As you can see the Whittier era did quite well especially when considering it had to fight to get through the Pandemic, which people seem to like to act like isn’t a big deal with their revisionist history of how difficult that time actually was. Not only were millions dying and getting sick, people were losing their jobs and lock downs were keeping people at home and a number of parents learnt how hard it was to home school your child even with a teacher on zoom, some while also having to work full time at home. This isn’t to mention the ridiculous amount of restrictions on how they could make the show and keep everyone safe. Sadly they also just didn’t have budget, it was why they needed Disney to come in. In the Who Corner to Corner podcast Chibs talks about how he wanted to do a new years special after Flux but was told there was no budget and he couldn’t do it but he wanted there to be a new year special so he ask if he used monster from the cupboard (a couple daleks they had sitting there) a warehouse and only 2 guest stars could he do it and they still told him they didn’t think so but he told them they were doing it and then we got Eve of the Daleks, one of my fav episodes of the run.

This goes to show the show was struggling to afford to make episodes it had no real money for marketing. If series 12 and Flux got the marketing series 11 did of course we would have seen even bigger numbers but Chibs stated in his Radio Free Skaro podcast from Gally One in 2023 that the only marketing budget they had after series 11 was marketing that could be done on the BBC that’s extremely limiting. They also didn’t have a brand manager unlike all previous eras. If you can afford a brand manager you’re not going to choose to not have one and having one probably would have also help quite a bit.

It’s not 2008 anymore, even Tennent couldn’t pull his 2008 numbers and that was with the big Disney budget to make the show and market the show, and they had a year to market the show and the most well known Doctor, so considering that vs what Chibs had to work with the Whittaker era is a solid era of Doctor Who. It just came at a time when the Budget was struggling, and the TV landscape was changing along with a campaign to try and destroy it before it began simply because they chose a Woman to be the Doctor, as demonstrated by the fact the BBC had to release a press statement backing Whittakers casting and the change to a Female Doctor. And that did have a snow ball effect of people picking everything apart to an insane level they do not do with any of the episodes from the male Doctors episodes a lot of which could be seen as far more problematic.

All this to say could the numbers had been better? Yes, if they had budget to market the show the way it needs to be marketed in a landscape with a million competing shows on far more streaming services than there were regular channels back in the day. But did the show do well with the limited resources it had. Also Yes.

[moralesmilesanhour]

my neighbor's a punk

summary: you move into a new apartment with a noisy neighbor. inspired by this prompt list! wc: 922 A/N: just wrote this for some practice. I'm getting better at writing longer drabbles, I think! As always feel free to reblog and leave your reactions in the tags or comments. As of the date this is being posted, my requests are also open! (pls check my pinned beforehand)

You had never seen a garden so beautiful.

Vibrant blossoms of yellow and orange greeted you as you hauled two medium-sized boxes carrying the last of your things through the entrance of your new apartment. Their fragrance wafted through the humid summer air, delighting you and confirming that they were, in fact, real. But for the past couple of days that you had been in the process of moving in, you’d never once spotted a gardener or seen the sprinklers turn on. Curious.

The modest apartment had only a couch to occupy the living room, which was currently still dotted with cardboard boxes. A freshly-ironed shirt and work pants lay neatly folded on top of one. You stepped over a few to get to the kitchen, where various unopened appliances were strewn about the counter. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, you made a note to finally put everything away in the cupboards tomorrow evening after work.

No TV meant your only sources of entertainment for the time being were your phone and your laptop. It was now evening, and you were slouched on your sofa in the midst of a harrowing ‘Game of Thrones’ episode when a violent guitar riff ripped through the air and made you jump.

These thin-ass walls…

Whoever was playing (very well, you might add) seemed to be next door, so it didn’t take long to follow the sound to the correct number. You knocked impatiently and rang the doorbell too, for good measure. It took a minute for the music to come to a halt before the sound of heavy footsteps approached the door and you heard it unlock.

Once the door creaked open, you weren’t sure where to look first.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the array of piercings on your neighbor’s face and dangling from his ears, the wicks styled to shoot out from his head like an explosion, and his bright red plaid pants before landing on a pair of large eyes set deeply within a dark, angular face.

Judging by the way his pierced brow quirked up in amusement, you weren’t the first to give him a weird look, and wouldn’t be the last.

You remembered how to speak.

“Oh, um- hey,” you began, “I live next door, and I heard you playing–”

The young man’s face lights up and he interrupts, “Oh, d’you like it? It’s a song I’ve been workin’ on for the past few weeks. Finally got the bridge down.”

You blinked. 

“I mean…it’s not bad. It’s great, even, but–”

“Say, I haven’t seen you around before,” he pointed. “You new here?”

The man spoke with a strong Cockney accent, you noticed, with a tinge of something else that made a couple of vowels run together.

“...Yes, I moved in two days ago,” you sighed. “Now that that’s out of the way, I was about to ask if you could maybe play a lil’ quieter? You’re very loud.”

The realization seemed to dawn on him that you weren’t here to applaud his sick guitar riffs, and he winced. You almost felt bad for disappointing him, but you had a show to binge.

“Ah shit, my fault. Got too used to playing on full volume after the last neighbor moved out,” With a hand placed over his chest, he promised, “Won’t happen again.”

You nodded with a tight smile. 

“Thanks. Goodnight,” you said as you turned to leave.

The next few days were quieter, though you could still hear the neighbor’s guitar through the walls at a much more manageable volume. Sometimes you would hear the man humming to himself in his baritone voice. Eventually, you were so used to it that you found yourself falling asleep to the sound.

One Saturday morning, though, you awoke to the peculiar sound of silence. Normally by now you’d be hearing the first few chords of…whatever the guy was working on, then he’d reach the end by mid-afternoon. Part of you wanted to check up on him, but reason held you back; you’d only spoken to him once. Maybe he was just taking an off day.

Unable to return to sleep, you decided to shower and take a walk outside while the air was still comfortably cool.

As soon as the early morning sun hit your face, a familiar head of hair came into view.

There stood your neighbor–band t-shirt and all–in the garden in front of the apartment. Watering the flowers.

Mystery solved.

“So you’re the reason the plants haven’t died yet,” you laughed, causing his head to snap up.

He grinned, and lifted his watering can proudly. “Sure am. Bring some color into the place.”

“I thought it was awful quiet around here,” you remarked. You toyed with the hem of your t-shirt. “How’s the, uh…song going?”

Something between delight and surprise graced his features and made him look boyish. 

He smiled, revealing a crooked front tooth as he replied, “Almost done with it, actually.”

There was silence for a beat, and the both of you shifted awkwardly where you stood. 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. 

“Mind playing it for me when you’re done?”

The tall man seemed about ready to run laps around the block at the suggestion.

Quickly setting his watering can down, he replied, “Thought you’d never ask, mate!”

He jogged his way around the perimeter of the garden and over to you. “Can I get your name while we’re at it?”

“Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it.

“Hobie.”

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Eight

Note - I’m very interested to hear what you have to say about this one. Just remember relationships are never perfect and I hope I haven’t upset you all too much 🩷 feedback would be very much appreciated

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.7K

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

You weren’t expecting anything much, but a simple ‘welcome home’ or ‘hello’ would of been enough to suffice. But clearly that was too much for him now.

Ever since Masons injury and subsequent surgery he’d been down in the dumps. You got it, of course you did, and you let him wallow for as long as you thought acceptable yet when you tried cheering him up a bit he no longer seemed interested.

He was quiet, never seeming to want to come out of his shell too much anymore and no matter how much you tried, he didn’t want to budge.

You left him at first since it was just him being quiet, but when he started to pull back from you physically then you started to get worried. Mason was a cuddle monster and always loved to have his hands on you so in the beginning when this was still the case you were fine but as the weeks passed he was beginning to keep to himself. No longer wanting to hold you or keep your hand in his. You knew something was really wrong when he pushed you off gently as you tried to give him head scratches in hopes of getting him to relax into you but if anything he moved further away.

You tried waiting, letting him come to you when he was ready so you didn’t overwhelm him but he never did anymore. Choosing to keep it all inside or talk to one of the boys.

You tried not to take offence to it though, telling yourself he was like it with everyone not just you however when you got back from work one night to find a house full of boys and Mason looking happier than you’d seen him it weeks you couldn’t deny it stung a little bit. Especially when Mason didn’t even acknowledge your existence. You kept yourself out of the way, eating dinner in the cinema room and by the time you went to bed Mason was already fast asleep.

Mason was healing up nicely, but you figured he’d gotten used to you tidying up after him and with all the underlying tension you were feeling you didn’t say anything. Silently picking up after him and making sure the house was spotless. Not that it should of bothered you too much, it’s not like he’d asked you to move in with him yet but you’d both discussed you spending more time here and asides from the occasional night here and there you spent most of your time living with Mason. Hence why you wanted to keep the place tidy but he seemed content living in a mess unless you sorted it out.

That’s how it went for the next week or so, you coming home to a house full of people and Mason not so much as batting an eye in your direction. You were eating alone in the kitchen one night when he came in and your heart stopped, wondering if he would say anything but he simply got a glass from the cupboard and left again. Leaving you to tidy up all the take away wrappers and bottles that littered the room.

Chilly walked in a little while after, a sad smile on his face as he stood opposite you and you tried to muster one back to make it look like you were okay but he saw right through you. ‘You okay in here? I know we’ve been around a lot lately but if it’s too much we can go. I know he’s been a bit of a grump lately, he’s been the same in training so I’m a bit surprised he wanted to hang out. I thought some company might do him good’

‘Don’t be silly, it’s Masons house so it’s up to him’

‘Well you live here too’

‘Not officially’ you winked and he looked at you sympathetically. ‘It’s fine, honestly. He clearly prefers your company to mine right now’

‘It’s not that, y/n-‘

‘I’m gonna head up to bed, I’ve got a long day tomorrow’ you smiled, cutting him off as you didn’t think you could take anymore of his kindness. That didn’t stop him from pulling you into a hug and you felt your eyes burn at the feel of someone’s arms around you.

‘I’ll have a word with him’

‘There’s no need, honestly’ you smiled but you could tell you sounded emotional so after a quick goodnight to took yourself upstairs. You were in bed soon enough but fell asleep a long time before Mason made his way up to you just like usual.

The next day felt even worse somehow. It was one in the afternoon before he messaged you, letting you know he’d slept in and he would text you later as he had some stuff to do. You didn’t bother replying, knowing you’d see him soon enough and you couldn’t think of anything nice to say to him right now.

You weren’t sure what would be waiting for you at home, hoping for at least a quiet house and in the back of your mind you had the awful thought of skipping out on him all together and going back to your flat but you knew you couldn’t. You were working late today and even though he’d been tough to be around lately you knew he still needed you, well you hoped he did at least, so you took one big deep breath before you opened the front door.

It was dark inside, the only light you could see was coming from the living room and once your coat and bag were tidied away, you followed it to find Mason sat on the sofa, with his face glued to his phone. He didn’t so much as look up at you as you walked in and you bit your lip before clearing your throat.

‘Hi Mason’

‘Hey’ he called, not bothering to look up at you and you waited a beat to see if he would acknowledge you in any other way but once it was clear he wasn’t you made your way into the kitchen, biting your cheek so you wouldn’t let any tears out.

The kitchen was spotless for once and you lost your appetite immediately at the fact there was nothing for you to eat. Usually he would at least leave you something when you got back this late but clearly he’d forgotten how to do that too. Right now all you wanted was your bed so you that’s exactly where you went, walking passed Mason without a word and up the stairs.

You’d been under the covers for about twenty minutes when you heard the door open. You hadn’t been crying but you knew your eyes were watery and your voice would give you away so you pretended to be asleep. That didn’t stop him coming over to you and sitting on the bed behind you, tentatively reaching touch to touch your shoulder.

‘Why are you up here?’ He whispered and you just shrugged your shoulders no wanting to lie to him that you were asleep but not in the mood to speak to him either. ‘You feeling okay?’ He asked and you nodded to let him know you weren’t sick. ‘Do you want me to get you anything to eat?’ He mumbled but you shook your head to let him know you didn’t before you heard him let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t say anything else just placed a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving the room. It was probably the most intimate he’d been with you in a while and you had to use all you’re nerve to keep your emotions inside.

You were upset, not just because this had been going on for weeks but the fact you’d let it get to this point was something you never thought you’d do. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed you properly and sex had been off the table for a while making you wonder if he was getting it from somewhere else.

You hated that you’d had that thought about him, your past bleeding into your future but you didn’t have another explanation at this point in time.

In your mind, he’d given up on you but didn’t have the heart to let you go yet. You weren’t sure how much longer you could put up with his mood before you said something but you were too afraid about what that would mean for the pair of you.

You tried to forget about all of it, drifting in and out of sleep until Mason eventually joined you. This night was different though, him finally cuddling up to you and placing a soft kiss to your shoulder and you bit you lip hard so you wouldn’t cry. Not realising his touch starved you were until you felt his body heat on you but after five minutes or so he was off of you, rolling over to face the other way.

You wondered if Ben had said something to him yesterday, but if he had and this all he was willing to offer you after he knew you were upset then that would break your heart even more. You wanted to reach out and hold him so bad but the fear of rejection kept you rooted to the spot.

He was gone the next morning when you woke up but there was nothing around to make it look like he’d even been there at all in the first place. You didn’t even bother checking your phone and once you’d left for work you’d made the decision that you weren’t going back their tonight.

You didn’t want to let him know though. As petty as it sounded you wanted him to wonder where you were and message you first just so you could feel like you maybe meant something to him.

It felt weird stepping inside your flat knowing you’d be sleeping there tonight. You barely spent time here anymore as you were so used to being at his. When Mason asked you to stay at his more regularly he understood that you still needed your own space and offered to take care of paying for your flat still but you refused. Sometimes it felt like a bit of a waste just having it sit there but for moments like this, when you didn’t feel comfortable at his, you thanked your lucky stars you still had it.

You sat on the sofa, a pizza in the oven that you didn’t really want but you knew you needed to eat something. You didn’t even bother to check your phone as you knew he wouldn’t of texted you and as the hours passed the more alone you felt.

It was around 10:30 that night when you were getting settled in bed that you saw your phone light up, Mason calling and you felt sick at the prospect of talking to him but you knew you couldn’t ignore him.

‘Hello’ you answered shakily and your eyes stung at the sound of his voice.

‘Hey, where are you? It’s getting late’

‘I’m at home’

‘Are you? I’ve just checked every room and I can’t find you anywhere’

‘I meant my house’ you told him and you felt his mood shift through the phone.

‘What? Why are you there?’

‘I just am’

‘Oh…’ he trailed off and you knew if you stayed on the call much longer you’d be crying and you didn’t want him to hear that.

‘Like you said, it’s getting late and I’m tired so I’m gonna go to sleep’

‘Y/n-‘

‘Night’ you interrupted before ending the call and placing it face down so you could ignore anymore calls or texts that might come in. It was all in vein though as when you woke up the next day you saw he hadn’t tried to contact you at all.

The same routine happened for the next two nights, you staying at your flat and him texting you at a silly hour to see where you were. On the friday night you’d just got changed into your pyjamas when there were a few loud knocks on the door. You knew it was him immediately before you’d even answered the it but you still felt the shock roll through you at the sight of him when you eventually did.

He brows were drawn together, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he chewed on it and his eyes looked sad as they flickered over you.

‘Mason? What are you doing here?’

‘Funny, I’ve been wanting to ask you the same question for days’ he said, walking inside suddenly and you shut the door with a gulp before turning to him. He was perched on the arm of your sofa and you cautiously walked towards him and stopped just out of his reach. ‘Are you gonna tell me why you’re here?’

You were flabbergasted by his attitude and lack of self awareness to the point where you couldn’t even speak. He just looked at you with the same angry expression before huffing when you wouldn’t talk.

‘Why won’t you talk to me’

‘You haven’t spoken to me properly in weeks, Mason. This is probably the most you’ve said to me in so long but god forbid I do the same to you. You’ve really hurt me so is it any wonder I don’t want to talk to you?’ you told him, your voice sounding more vulnerable than you wanted it to and your heart broke even more when you realised it hadn’t effected him in any way.

‘What are you talking about? I see you everyday and we talk all the time?’

‘If that’s what you think then fine, but I know how I feel Mason and you’ve completely pushed me away’

‘No I haven’t’

‘You have!’ You cried, getting irate at the way he didn’t seem to care or even notice what he was putting you through. ‘Ever since your surgery I’ve looked after you. I’ve cooked for you, made sure you had everything you needed even when I’ve come home late from work and I didn’t feel like it. I do it cause I love you but it’s like you’ve gotten used to it and you just expect everything to be done for you’

‘I don’t’

‘When was the last time you loaded up the dishwasher? Or made the bed in the morning? Or even did a load of washing? I do it all Mase and it’s not like I’m begging for you to praise me but I don’t get anything from you anymore. I’m supposed to be your girlfriend and not your maid. And it’s not even just that, I don’t remember the last time you kissed me properly let alone anything else’

‘I kiss you all the time’

‘You haven’t in weeks. You don’t tell me you love me anymore, we haven’t had sex in as long as I can remember’

His eyes fell to the floor at this, your words seeming to sink in as he let out a little sigh.

‘Well why didn’t you talk to me? I’m not a mind reader’ he snapped back defensively but it just angered you more.

‘I shouldn’t have to remind you of those things you should want to do it. The fact that you don’t hurts like hell. Every time I looked at you I just felt more alone and I have no idea what I did to make you act this way’

‘I’ve been injured, y/n. I’ve had other things on my mind apart from you and what you need all the bloody time!’ He exploded. ‘You know how stupid I looked the other night? it’s my house, and you basically tell Ben you don’t want them there so they all go. That’s not your decision to make. I choose when people are there not you and I choose when i want all the other crap done. I haven’t asked you to do any of that and if you want it done then fine but that’s your call. You can’t make me do it.’ He ranted, your eyes filling with tears as he tore you to shreds. ‘As for the other stuff, maybe if you showed me an ounce of affection sometimes I might show it back’

You refused to let him carry on like this or show him how upset you were so you walked over to your front door and held it open, signalling you wanted him to leave and lucky for you he got up and walked out without a word.

You bit your lip as you slammed the door, refusing to cry but you couldn’t believe everything he’d just said to you. You had no idea what had gotten into him but this is the last thing you were expecting to come out of his mouth.

Exhausted by everything, you took yourself to bed, AirPods in so you could listen to something and keep your racing thoughts at bay and hopefully get some sleep, wondering if you’d feel better in the morning but Masons words were on repeat in your head.

It was the next day and you’d seen the text about half an hour ago, debating on what to reply but in the end you thought you may as well tell her the truth knowing she’d find out eventually. You didn’t feel any better about what had happened the previous evening and figured Mason wouldn’t want you anywhere near him today.

You weren’t sure if you were up for company but you hadn’t seen Soph in a while and you figured it would be good to get a second opinion and validate your feelings a little bit so you agreed, telling her you were at your flat and she promised to be there in the next hour or so.

It took everything in you not to break down in her arms when she pulled you in for a hug and she must of felt it as she held you even tighter and for way longer than she usually did.

‘I bought cake’ she smiled as you pulled apart and you lead her into the kitchen so you could make a tea for you both. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ She asked softly and you gave her the run down of what’s happened over the last few months. From Mason growing distant to completely shutting you out all together and also mentioning how lazy he’d gotten. You tried to keep a lid on your emotions and for the most part you did, there were no tears just your voice shaking a little bit as Sophia looked back at you with a concerned face.

‘I should be honest with you’ she told you shyly and you gulped down a nervous lump. ‘Mason came over last night for like an hour, him and Kai spoke but I wasn’t sure what it was about ’

‘Oh’ you breathed, wondering what Mason must of said to Kai and who’s side he would of taken. ‘I just don’t know what’s going on. Or what I did’ you sighed, rubbing your forehead as you shut your eyes. ‘He really blew up at me yesterday. Said I can’t make him do what he doesn’t want to and it’s not my place to say things to his friends. It just made me feel super small and like I don’t mean anything to him’

‘Oh love’ she sighed, reaching out to put her hand over yours and you gulped away the tears that were starting to build. ‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems’

‘I don’t know, it all just feels a bit hopeless right now’ you sighed ‘thank you for coming to check on me though’

‘Don’t be silly, you know I would any time’

‘Can we just keep this between us? I’ll speak to Mason soon I just need some time on my own’

‘Of course’ she smiled, her phone ringing soon after before she told you she had to run and go to the game. You didn’t bother watching it or checking the score, choosing to go to bed early and watch a few films to take your mind off of everything. You hadn’t heard a peep out of Mason since he walked out of here yesterday and it was the longest time you’d gone without talking since you could remember.

All the feelings you never wanted to feel again were sitting uncomfortably in your chest. Anger suddenly bubbling up inside you that he’d managed to convince you to let him in and then dropped you like it was nothing. It would be hard to start again on your own, but you told yourself that if this was it then you’d never trust a man again. You’d been on your own before and you could do it again but the voice in the back of your head was screaming just because you could didn’t mean you wanted to.

It was still fairly early when you drifted off, exhausted from all the emotions of the day and with nothing better to do. The next morning you slept in later than you’d intended to, the continuous buzz of your phone waking you up eventually and you grabbed your phone to see a few missed calls from Freya. She didn’t give you much time to think as she was calling you again and you cleared your throat before answering.

‘Frey? Is everything alright?’

‘Why haven’t you been picking up? I thought you were dead’

‘I’ve been asleep’

‘Well wake up, I need to borrow a top for tonight. I’ll be over in a sec’

‘Freya wait-‘ you sighed, trying to tell you you were at your flat rather than Masons house but she’d already cut the call off and you didn’t have the energy to call back. You figured you’d wait until she called back first, hopefully Mason would open the door and he would have to explain why you’re not there so she could give him a talking to.

None of that happened though as she was knocking on your door 30 seconds later and you opened up with a confused frown on your face.

‘How did you know I was here?’ You asked and she shuttled her shoulders.

‘Mothers intuition’ she told you and you rolled your eyes before following her into your room where she proceeded to flick through your wardrobe to find what she wanted.

‘What do you need this for?’ You asked but she kept her face away from you as if she was embarrassed.

‘I may have a date tonight’

‘Ooooo’ you teased, sitting up in hopes she’s turn and look at you. ‘Anyone I know?’

‘That’s classified’

‘Oh, tell me please’ you pouted as she finally looked at you but you felt intimidated by her stare.

‘Why don’t you tell me why you’re here first?’ She questioned before sitting on your bed with you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your emotions in check with her.

‘I feel like you already know’

‘Woody told me a little bit yeah, but I’d rather hear it from you’

‘Woody?’ You laughed, everything now clicking into place. ‘You’re going on a date with woody?’

‘Oh shush’ she told you, trying to be serious but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. ‘Well you haven’t told me anything. I’m supposed to be your best friend’

‘I know I’m sorry’ you breathed, your head falling into your hands as you took in a breath. ‘It’s all just a massive mess’

Freya let you vent, nodding along to let you know she was listening but you had a feeling she already knew most of it considering how calm she was and she gave you a sympathetic smile at the end of your long rant.

‘I’m sorry love, that sounds shit. But hiding out here won’t do the pair of you any good’

‘Last time we tried to speak it didn’t go very well. I’m not sure I want to talk to him right now’ you huffed and just as you were about to speak her phone started ringing.

‘Listen, I’m so sorry but I need to shoot’ she told you, jumping up and you furrowed your brows at her sudden change of mood.

‘Okay… I’ll walk you to the door I guess’ you laughed, getting up to follow her out but she held her hands up as if to get you to stop.

‘It’s fine, you stay here I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way’ she laughed. Kissing your forehead and walking towards the door. You let her go, hearing the door shut and taking a deep breath as you were finally alone again.

The sound of footsteps made you freeze though, thinking maybe she’d forgotten something and was coming back but you weren’t expecting to see Mason stood in your doorway. You carefully stood up, not knowing what to do but you could see his eyes were sad as soon as you looked at him.

‘How did you…’

‘Freya let me in’

‘Oh’ you breathed, looking down to the floor ‘So this was a set up?’

‘I wouldn’t go that far. I just knew you probably wouldn’t let me in so I asked for her help’ he told you and you couldn’t deny it stung a little knowing she’d gone behind your back after she knew how you felt about everything. ‘She came by earlier and I dropped her over here. Don’t worry, she’s already given me an earful’

‘Why are you here?’ You asked quietly, looking down. You knew why but you weren’t sure you were ready to forgive him yet or if you were ready for if things went the other way.

‘Cause I think we should talk’

You couldn’t pick out what way the conversation would be going from the sound of his voice and the uncertainty of it all made your eyes sting. You didn’t know what way you wanted things to swing but having him here now and the potential risk of loosing him made you realise you didn’t want to be without him. The thought of him ending things right here with you in your bedroom was too much for you to handle and you couldn’t hold anything in anymore, covering your face with your hands and sobbing into them as you began to panic and fear the worst.

‘Please don’t, Mase. Please don’t do this’ you sobbed, your chest tightening as you finally got some of your emotions out. ‘I can’t-‘

‘Hey, baby no’ he interrupted, closing the gap between you and holding you by your arms. ‘Don’t do what?’

‘Please don’t break up with me. I’ll do anything please just don’t leave me’ you sobbed, crying for the first time since this had all happened and it was like two months of pain were coming out at once.

‘What? Why would you think that?’ he asked you softly, eventually pulling your hands away from your face and wrapping them around his shoulders so he could pull you into a hug. ‘That’s the last thing I want’ he mumbled into your neck and you began to loose it. Relief flooded you at his words but you were still upset, now crying even harder because you sort of knew things would be okay and when he hooked his hands under your thighs, you let him carry you over to your bed. He sat you down as you straddled his lap, sobbing into his neck as you finally let out all the emotions you’d been holding in for weeks. All the hurt and miscommunication flooding from your body but you couldn’t stop the heart wrenching sobs as he held you to him as tight as he could.

You felt him shuffle to the side a little bit, rubbing his hand up and down your back gently as he placed his lips to you ear. ‘Lay down with me’ he whispered and you let him move you so you were half draped over him. His hand reached under your hoodie to stroke over you back in attempts to soothe you but it just made you cry harder. You hadn’t felt his skin against yours for so long and the goosebumps erupted almost immediately as you buried yourself into him further, letting him just hold you together.

He let you calm yourself down, your sobs turning from heartbreaking to small sniffles and when you were ready you shuffled back to look at him shyly. His eyes were glossy as he looked at you with a sad expression as if he was disappointed in himself.

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed placing his lips on your forehead as fresh tears formed in your eyes. ‘I’ve been the prick of all pricks and you deserve so much better than what I’ve been giving you. Everything you said the other night was right and I knew it but I was too far up my own arse to agree with you’

‘What happened? What did I do-‘ you started but he shushed you immediately, moving so he could cup your jaw in an attempt to make you not look away from him.

‘You didn’t do a thing, I promise. It was me and I’m so sorry it took me almost loosing you to realise’ he whispered, sadness crashing like a tidal wave in your tummy as your lip wobbled at his words. ‘When things go wrong, I have a tendency to self implode. After the surgery I got really down in the dumps and I couldn’t make it stop. And I knew I was hurting you, of course i did, but all I could focus on was myself. I know it’s not an excuse and it doesn’t suddenly make everything okay. I know it probably makes things worse actually’ he sighed and you felt your bottom lip tremble.

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed, kissing your forehead and you gulped down a sob at the feel of his lips. ‘For all of it. For not talking to you and pushing you away, for making you feel like a stranger in your own home. For not helping out and leaving you to do all the work and for not telling you how much I love you every second of the day because I really really do’ he told you, tears spilling down his cheeks as he let you know how sorry he was and you felt the sobs you’d pushed down rise back up. Hiding in his neck again so you could cry the rest of your emotions out.

‘I’m sorry you felt like you had to confide in Ben. He told me you didn’t really want to talk about it but when he could see how I was effecting you I was so angry and embarrassed I’d let it get to that point. That’s why they weren’t there the next day cause I wanted to talk but I was so nervous and you looked so broken and when you went straight to bed I didn’t know what to do. I just seemed to make everything worse’

‘I thought you’d given up on me’ you said quietly, hearing him let out a shuddery breath at your words. ‘After everything I’d done for you after your injury it just felt like a massive kick in the teeth’

‘I’m so sorry’ he he told you, tears now running down his cheeks as you were spelling out how he made you feel. ‘it was never you I promise. Honestly? Every time you touched me I thought I was gonna break down. I didn’t want you to know how bad I was feeling and I knew if you showed me any affection then I was done for. You’re the only person in the whole world I can’t act around and I didn’t want you to think I was pathetic. But I went the complete other way and took you for granted cause I figured you’d always be around and I didn’t know what to do when you weren’t. I’m so sorry’ he told you, his voice cracking at the end as he started to cry himself so you held him closer to you. ‘This whole years been fucking shit and I let it get on top of me. You’ve been my light in the dark and I’m so ashamed of myself for how I’ve treated you’

‘Come on’ you whispered, pulling his head into your neck so he could let his emotions out too. Yes you were upset but you hated seeing Mason like this. He was right, he’d had an awful time of it lately and whilst it didn’t give him permission to treat you how he had, you could see how he’d let it get to that point.

He pulled back gingerly and your heart broke as you looked down at his bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, wanting nothing more than to kiss him but you held but you held back as you hadn’t quite reached that point yet.

‘You don’t have to answer right now. I know I’ve broken everything we had and it’ll take a while for you to trust me again but will you please come home? Cause it is your home, not just mine’ he told you quietly. ‘Or we can stay here tonight if you’re not ready yet. Or if you want me to go so you can think things through I will’ he added quietly but you knew knew you didn’t want to be without him now.

‘I’ll come back’ you whispered with a small nod but you both made no attempt to move for a little while as you just held each other together for a bit, eventually falling asleep as you were both tired from crying.

You weren’t sure how long you’d slept for, but when you woke up Mason was already looking at you, a soft smile on his lips as he stroked his fingers through your hair and you automatically shuffled into him a bit further.

‘You okay?’ He whispered, nodding into his neck as you squeezed him a little tighter.

‘What time is it?’

‘Nearly 11:30’ he confirmed, just then realising you’d been asleep for a lot longer than you thought so you started moving to get up.

‘We’ll start heading back if you want, I just need to grab a few things’ you told him and within the next five minutes you were walking out the door to his car.

‘Leave yours here I’ll come get it later’ he told you as he opened his for you and you agreed before getting in. Your hand was in his the whole way home and once inside he made you sit on the sofa whilst he made you some lunch. He looked a little unsure of himself when you were both done as you were still so quiet so you budged over further into him so he’d pull you into hug and you felt his whole body relax into your arms.

‘Y/n?’ He whispered after a minute or two and you looked up into his glossy before moving yourself so you could straddle his thighs and cup his jaw. ‘I really am sorry’

‘I know you are’ you reassured him, your heart hurting as the tears escaped his eyes when he shut them but you wiped them away before placing a soft kiss to the crease between his brows. As much as he’d hurt you, you could also see how much he was hurting himself and had been for a while. In the end the overwhelming need to apologise for your part in all of this took over. ‘I’m sorry too. For leaving and not saying anything earlier. I just thought if i said anything you’d break up with me so I thought it would be better to wait but I realise now it was silly’

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for’ he breathed ‘and no matter how bad things would of got the last thing is ever want is to be without you’ he confirmed as he squeezed your waist before you leaned forward to pull him into a hug.

It felt so good to be back in his hold and even though you had a lot more to talk about all you wanted was the feeling of his lips against yours so you carefully lent forward to bring him into a soft kiss.

How you’d resisted up until now you’d never know, but as he cupped you cheek and pulled you in closer you couldn’t of felt more at home. The kiss didn’t last long as you were both smiling but your heart burst when he pulled back and rubbed his nose against yours before leaving a gentle kiss on the tip.

‘I love you’ he whispered, tears welling in your eyes instantly but you were so thankful to hear those words again. A small giggle erupting from you before you gave him another quick peck.

‘I love you’ you whispered back, heart thudding as the gorgeous smile that crept over his face.

You spent the next hour or so opening up to each other more, lots of apologies and tears shared between you until you started to feel like yourself again and seeing the spark return to Masons eyes washed you of any bad feelings.

‘Can I ask? What did Freya say to you?’ You asked him softly and the embarrassed smile on his face told him it wasn’t anything good.

‘I basically got tag teamed by her and Woody. She said she’d put too much effort if to get us together for me to fuck it up like I was and Woody said I had a lot of cheek to do exactly I threatened him not to do and he hated seeing how upset you’d become when he saw you last’ he said quietly and you had to fight a small smile, knowing they were sticking up for you when you weren’t there. ‘I wanna ask you something but I feel like the timing is super bad and weird’ he laughed but you looked at him encouragingly, confused about what he would want to ask you but you also curious.

‘No, it’s okay. Just ask’

‘Would you move in with me?’ He asked quietly, taking down a nervous gulp and continuing before you had a chance to say anything. ‘Like properly. I know it’s probably the weirdest thing I could ask after everything thats happened but I’ve hated being here without you’ he admitted. ‘Like I hate the way the way you could so easily leave and I know it sounds weird and toxic as fuck but I want you here now more than ever. And I know you like your own space but I’ve had an idea’ he told you, an excited look in his eye and even though you were shocked at what he was saying you were willing to hear him out.

‘What is it?’

‘Well I was thinking we turn one of the guest rooms into your room? You know like I’ve got my office and stuff well I thought we could set you up something similar? We can decorate it however you want and it can be like your own little safe space for when I’m not here or I’ve pissed you off for the millionth time’ he teased and you could help but laugh.

‘Would you really give me a room?’

‘I’ll give you three if that’s what it takes’ he laughed and you smiled at him shyly. ‘I just thought it might help you know? You having your own space but we can still be together every night. I’m not gonna lie I’ve slept like shit this week without you’

‘I haven’t been sleeping that great either. Not for a while’ you confessed sadly but the feeling of his lips on your forehead made you smile as you snuggled into him more.

‘You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but I just want you to know I’m serious about you. About us, you know? And I’m sorry it took me fucking it all up to actually show you’

‘Better late than never’ you told him quietly before a calm silence took over the both of you.

The thought of moving in with him was properly was tempting, you already knew it could work as you’d been living together for a while and the prospect of not having to pay for a flat you didn’t use was a bonus. The fact he was also willing to let you have your own space here was appealing and after not much thought at all you were looking back into his soft brown eyes.

‘Mase?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ll move in’

‘Yeah?’ He laughed, kissing the bridge of your nose. ‘Really? Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. Yeah I love my flat but I love being with you more and it’s too much of a tie to my old life. I’m ready for a new beginning with you’

‘I love you so much’ he whispered, pulling you in for a soft kiss that knocked the wind out of you. ‘You have my word that this or anything similar will ever happen again, okay? I promise you’

‘I know, I believe you’ you smiled before kissing him again. ‘And I love you too. So so much’ you told him, eyes raking over his tired face and you could see how exhausted he was immediately. The black bags under his eyes looked heavy and you could help but reach out to to stroke his face. ‘Are you sure you’re alright Mase?’

‘I’m fine. Just a bit tired that’s all’

‘You sure?’

‘Well I have a little headache actually’ he pouted, causing you to pout back in sympathy.

‘Oh baby’ you breathed, kissing in between his eyebrows softly but the slight shake of his head made you pull back.

‘It’s here actually’ he said with a smile, pointing to the left side of his forehead in hopes you’d kiss there too and you couldn’t deny him. Following his finger to every spot he said he had pain and it seemed to have traveled from his forehead all the way down his cheek until you’d made it to the corner of his mouth where he gave you a cheeky smirk. ‘You know where it hurts the most?’

‘Where’s that?’

‘Here’ he smiled, pointing his finger to his lips. ‘It’s really painful’

‘Oh you poor thing’ you you breathed, tilting his face up more so you had a better angle before gently pressing your lips to his.

There was no smiling this time, just the pair of you pouring yourselves into each other, letting the other one know you were okay and they you loved them before pulling away slightly breathless and you caught the sly smirk on his face.

‘What?’ You quizzed, watching him bite his lip to stifle a laugh but your question glance made him speak up.

‘If I told you my dick hurt would you kiss it too?’

‘Mason Mount’ you gasped, laughing as your body fell into his and he caged you against his chest whilst kissing the side of your head.

‘I’m joking I promise’ he smiled. ‘I’m just happy we’re back’

‘I’m happy too’ you beamed dropping a quick kiss to his nose to let him know you were as content as you said you were.

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07

[maximwtf]

“Taking a break, or two.”

Thoma x Reader

Words: 1970

Google Docs Pages: 3

Warnings: adhd having reader implied but not mentioned directly, emotional hurt/comfort, mostly platonic but if you squint it’s implied yall live together

Opening: You’re cleaning with Thoma, but your attention keeps jumping to anything else but the task at hand. After a few light hearted jokes, it really dawns on you how useless you must seem to him. But was that how he saw the situation though..?

AN// Gn reader! Hehe, sorry I disappeared for a while. Literally haven’t been doing anything for weeks, ultimate adhd coma. Maybe making this one self indulgent, but we’re not gonna tell anyone about that now are we :D. First time writing for him so still practising :) (Ironic that this took me ages to write because I can’t focus for the life of me xddd)

“Taking a break, or two.”

Thoma had invited you to come and clean around the Komore teahouse with him. Not that he desperately needed help, especially not you flailing around while he tried to get things done. But perhaps it was your company he needed more than the actual help. So you had agreed to tagging along. 

The sound of Thoma placing something on the table in front of you brought you back from your thoughts. “Housekeeping is something I usually do alone, haha. But I’ll try my best to explain what to do.” He laughed lightly, yet voice still confident. He wasn’t doubting his skills in teaching you, if you happened to need help with anything. “But this should be a simple task either way. Just remember to use this product when cleaning the tabletop. It’s not so strong that it would ruin the shiny coating it has, unlike some other products. Hm, simple?” He smiled, eyes raising back to your form on the other side of the table. One product and one task, can’t be hard. “Yeah! You go and take care of the other tasks. Don’t you even worry about this.” You smiled at the end, repaying his former one. And with that, he was off to get some of the other tasks done. 

You sprayed some of the product onto the table, folding the cloth that’d been next to the bottle neatly. Save the clean side of it for drying the surface at the end. But to your misfortune, after barely having started, a noise disturbs your work. A pair of close by neighbours had stopped by outside and started to chat. The noise from the conversation reached inside the teahouse, catching your full attention and pausing any attempt of cleaning the table. Even with the bits and pieces you were able to hear, you could catch up on them talking about the weather today. Which reminded you, you were all out of tea. 

The men outside had mentioned something about rain, which you remember hearing about as well. It was supposed to start raining later tonight, lasting all the way to the early morning hours. This meant if you wanted tea tomorrow morning, you'd have to make it to the shops before dark. But since you were occupied now, that would take most of your time for this evening. Which then meant you had to think of the fastest route possible to the stalls if you didn’t want to be drenched by the time you got back home. Well, of all the options, Thoma would be the one likely least happy with that outcome. 

But after some time, you were successful in charting the best possible route which shouldn’t take too long. But this thinking session had completely paralysed you, and only the comment from Thoma brought you back to the present. “Excuse me, you over there. Focus please!” A soft chuckle escaped him right after, before he went back to what he’d been doing previously. You shook your head slightly, taking a more firm hold of the cloth in your hand. “Ah, sorry!” And with that you got back to cleaning the table, a crumb of guilt weighing in on your chest after. But doing your best to avoid it and to shine the tabletop. 

After cleaning the table Thoma had asked you to bring a cleaned tea set to the cupboard while he went outside to water a few plants and flowers. An easy task, again. And something that shouldn’t take you ages to do either. Your eyes followed Thoma keenly before he disappeared out the door. You wanted to get up and take the tea set away, but it was as if your seat was pulling you back. But what harm could a small break do? Thoma wouldn’t even make it back before you were done, so you had plenty of time to sit for a moment. Your eyes landed on the pristine tea set, a very fancy one at that. It reminded you of a client who’d passed by earlier and told you about a cup they’d broken by accident. You’d thought of telling Thoma about it earlier but had forgotten because of the list of other things you had undone. A sigh escaped your lips. The next time you saw him, you’d make sure to quickly point it out, if he didn’t already know. 

Your train of thought was interrupted by Thoma walking back in. The tea set sat gracefully on the side of the table, not having moved an inch. You took a quick breath, eyes moving up to Thoma before swiftly standing up. You were about to apologise again but he was able to interrupt you with a light hum mixed with a chuckle. He didn’t seem angry with you, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Not after you watched him take the tea set and bring it to the cupboard himself. If you hadn’t felt useless before, you did now. But maybe if you tried a little harder with the next task, to get at the very least something done instead of having Thoma help you with it. 

You helped him with some minor tasks to get something done, handing him items when he needed them. Nothing he couldn’t have done himself, but it made you feel somewhat useful. 

“Hey, we still have these sets to organise and shelf. Then we’re all done!” Thoma said, catching your attention swiftly in the otherwise rather silent space. You give him a nod and forced a smile to flash at him. “We got it!” You chime before he gave you a cheerful nod and disappeared behind the front desk for a moment. A doubtful sigh escaped your lips before feeling the need to escape for a moment. The feeling of guilt from earlier hadn’t gone anywhere and after following Thoma around like a clueless puppy for the rest of the evening, you didn’t really feel up for much. 

The pressure of knowing he’d return soon from around the corner finally made you crack just enough to slip outside. You walked slowly to the seats outside, sitting down against the wall of the house. Rays of the setting sun hit the very edges of the terrace still, but they didn’t provide any warmth for you. The seat you’d chosen happened to be in the shade, it felt the most peaceful. As if it was the most out of sight spot you could have found to sit with your feelings. 

You leaned your head back, eyes closed to enjoy the fresh air. It felt awful to know Thoma could see how useless you could get, and also know that he wouldn’t have the heart to actually tell you if it bothered him. And it wasn’t like you behaved like that on purpose either, you did honestly try to complete the tasks you said you would. But some days just happened to be like this. At times you feared he’d stop asking you to come along to do things or stop asking for help if you kept disappointing him. Or at least what felt like disappointing him. Especially when this always happened when you were asked to do something, no matter how nicely he asked. 

Some time passed and with it the sun kept slowly setting, last bits of golden light hitting the leaves of nearby trees. It didn’t take long for a certain someone to find you. The sound of his shoes hitting the wooden deck of the terrace echoed lightly, his steps slowing down as he came closer. “Now where did you disappear off to?” He asked before taking a step closer, squatting to your level. “And how come you’re sitting here all alone?” More questions thrown at you, the latter more of an indirect request to join you. “Just taking a break”, you replied with a slight cringe at the end. Who were you to take a break after not doing anything? “Haha, well I wouldn’t have minded joining. May I?” He finally asks, to which you reply with a nod. “Ah, I wasn’t planning on staying for long.” As if you felt like you had any control over the lengths of your breaks when the overwhelming feeling of guilt weighed you down like a boulder. 

A subtle silence fell over the two of you after Thoma settled down next to you. There was a light breeze in the air but it wasn’t cold enough to chase either of you back into the house. Thoma took a breath, though it took him a moment to actually say anything. “Is…everything okay?” He asked, eyes keenly looking at you but not demanding any sort of eye contact. You looked at his lap, not finding the courage to answer his question truthfully while looking at him. “Do you ever think I’m…useless? Or lazy?” You ended up asking instead of answering his initial question. You had just enough time to cast him a look to see the lost expression on his face, eyes a little widened. “No, of course not. Do I have a reason to?” He asks, now more keenly looking at you. Like he felt the need to thoroughly figure this out. “What is this about?” Thoma asked, his brows ever so slightly furrowed in worry. “Well…” You started but had to stop and sigh before rewording your thoughts. “Were you displeased with me today? At any point, did you feel I was just..useless?” And maybe that was just the same question as before, just reworded. But he didn’t fall for this one either, maybe he was being honest…”No, no? I asked you to join me today, I’d never demand anything of you.” He said, the muscles on his shoulders easing out a little as he began to put the pieces together in his mind. “But you said- To pay attention-” You tried to start again but this time he interrupted you. “No, no! I meant nothing with it, honest.” The poor man looked almost frightened at the fact that you even dared to think that way. “Listen, you were a lot of help today. The amount of work you did or didn’t do did not take away from the company you provided. I know how you handle tasks.” He smiled, calming himself at the same time. 

You stared at him blankly for a moment before pouting. “I’m sorry I assumed you- would have thought that way.” You were able to mumble before being brought into a hug. He chuckled lightly, ruffling the back of your head slightly. “Haha, that’s enough. There was no harm done.” He said, pulling back a little. You stared at him for a moment before he asked if you were going to be okay. You both knew the answer was yes but a simple nod never hurt anyone. 

“Maybe we should end the chores for today, hm?” Thoma offered and you took up on it almost immediately. The release from the last tasks eased something in you, allowing you to pay attention to the weather. It was rather late in the evening, but the rain hadn’t seemed to arrive yet. A few dark clouds in the distance, but it would be a while before they’d reach the teahouse. You’d still have time to get the tea if you left now. 

Turning to Thoma you asked if he’d be willing to tag along, if he wanted to. Mostly because you still felt like you had ruined a part of today’s hangout by being so absent, even if he’d deny that. “Of course, come on. I can brew us some when we get home.” Thoma flashed you a gentle smile before standing up and offering you a hand, which you took. And held for most of the walk to the stalls. 

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Bronze

@wolfstarmicrofic August 8, word count 662

Previous part First Jegulus part

Sirius sunk into their new sofa and seriously contemplated packing in the café altogether just so he could spend all day cocooned on this little bit of luxury. That was until James came barrelling in the front door with a glitter-covered gift bag. 

“No, no, no, no!” Sirius screeched when James plonked it down on the cushion and rainbow glitter showered from the bag and imbedded itself in the ridiculously soft fabric. “Remus!” He pleaded as he started to hyperventilate. Remus carefully picked up the bag and deposited it on top of one of their bills on the coffee table before grabbing the handheld hoover from the coat cupboard. Sirius didn’t think he breathed properly until every spot of glitter was diligently removed by Remus. “James Fleamont Potter, are you actively trying to kill me or have you been drinking again?” James looked at him confusedly. 

“Erm, what?”

“Brand new sofa!” Sirius pointed at the sofa. “Fairy dust from the pits of hell!” He pointed at the gift bag twinkling innocently on the coffee table. 

“What, it’s only glitter. I thought you liked sparkly things,” James held out his hands, not understanding where Sirius's rage was coming from. 

“Sweetheart, I think you’re forgetting that not everyone hates glitter the way you do and that the bag does in fact hold a gift,” Remus said gently as he stroked the back of Sirius’s neck, attempting to calm him down. 

“Shit, sorry James, it’s just a pet peeve of mine. That shit gets everywhere, and it just keeps popping up even when you haven’t had glitter in your home for months. Thank you for the kind thought though,” He said a bit sheepishly. 

“No worries,” James brushed it off. Sirius loved how easy his best friend was, he never held grudges and could generally be won back with a slice of honeycomb cheesecake and a good cup of tea. 

Sirius carefully opened the top of the gift bag, trying hard not to wince when a cascade of glitter fell off the bag when the tape snapped. He took out the rectangular item wrapped in tissue paper and stepped away from the bag, lest he get any of the shiny demon microplastic disks on his clothing. 

He tugged at the small strip of tape and unwrapped the gift. It was a wooden plaque. He flipped it over and etched onto a bronze plate were the words ‘Howlin’ at the Moon, owned by Sirius O Black & Remus J Lupin.’ With the outline of a wolf howling up at the moon. “James,” He said in awe. “It’s beautiful. Thank you,” He brushed his fingers across the lettering, tracing each letter. He spotted some odd dots beside the moon and when he looked closer he realised it was his constellation. “Canis Major,” He gasped, looking up at James. 

“I wanted it to be something really personal for you guys to put on the wall of the café as an opening gift. The wall was looking a little bare.” James beamed broadly at them. Sirius and Remus wrapped their friend in the tightest hug the two of them could give.

“You giant goofball, we love you. Can we go put it up now?” Sirius looked at Remus hoping he'd say yes. 

“That’s why I bought my drill with me,” James patted the end of the power drill poking out of his pocket. 

They walked over to the café, using the side entrance so no one would think they were open, and watched James expertly put up the plaque. They stood together and admired the shiny plaque for a while until it got too dark to see without the lights on and went home for a cheeky takeaway, kept well away from the new sofa. Sirius volunteered to take the rubbish out to the wheelie bin after they'd finished and were tidying up. He snatched that god's forsaken glitter monstrosity off the coffee table and threw it out as well. 

Next part

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lost 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

When your shift ends, you leave the shop, heading down the same way you came. You stop at the corner of Mason and think better of going that route. You take that man’s advice and go along Doxtator instead. It’s quieter, there aren’t as many businesses so not as many people loitering and tossing cigarette butts.

You come up to the shared house and enter through the side door as usual. You wouldn’t call it routine yet, you haven’t been there long enough, but a ripple of deja vu comes over you. You keep your head down as you enter the kitchen. As you do, there’s another person in there.

You don’t know if you should say hello. You haven’t seen this man before. He must be one of the others. He pulls a box of rice crackers out of the cupboard and ignores your presence. You follow his lead and don’t say a word as you set your bag on the counter and pull out the drawer. You write your name on the few items you got from the store before you left; a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and some packets of ramen.

You put it all away as the other resident traipses off down the hallway, shuffling footsteps reverberating off the shabby walls. You shut the fridge as you hear the outside door open and shut. As you turn, the other man enters; the big one with the shaggy hair. S as you think of him.

He nods at you as you fold up the paper bag and shove it in the bin. He goes to the cupboard and opens the door. He sighs and takes out the same box of crackers as the last man. He shakes it and tuts. You see then the S marked on the side.

You leave, not wanting to get involved. You feel bad that someone else took his food but you also don’t need the drama. You hate conflict. At least now, you know to watch your things. Maybe later you’ll sneak out and retrieve your ramen so you can preserve a few meals.

You’re not very hungry. Your appetite is sparse these days. Maybe it’s this place. You can’t quite settle in, maybe because you hope it’s only temporary. Yet, you can’t say if that’s because you’re holding onto hope that by some miracle you could go back to your former life or that you might even forge a new one.

You lock the door and turn on the standing lamp. You fold your coat over the metal frame of the bed and sit to untie your shoes and peel off your socks. You change into a loose pair of sweatpants and a plain tea with a Pepsi logo on it. Not your clothes, another set of charity tatters.

You lay down and stare at the wall. You used to have a television in your room. You’d watch the old sitcoms they replayed on the public access channel. Or you’d listen to music and knit something. You had at least a dozen scarves more than you needed. You might be able to afford some needles and yarn after your first pay.

The cone of light casts a low haze through the tight space. Your eyes slowly close as thoughts of shutting off the lamp fade into your subconscious. You’re asleep before you can feel yourself drift off.

🚪

You wake to a strange sound. Your eyes flick open to the yellow lamplight as you lay stiffly on your back. You groan as your cramped muscles tug. You stretch and the bed frame creaks with your movement.

The scratching continues. You’re not surprised. You would expect mice in a place like this. There were some at the shelter too. They mostly left you alone, just skittered by as they searched out crumbs.

It gets louder as you sit up, tilting your head as you try to loosen the knot between your shoulders. You stand slowly, daunted by the pang across your hips. The mattress is thin and you can feel the frame on the other side.

“I know you’re awake, sweetie,” the voice startles you as it slips beneath the door. You stop your arm midreach as you go to click off the lamp. You peek over and see the shadow shift under the door. “Sweetie? I can see your light’s still on, why don’t you open the door?”

You don’t know the voice. It’s pitchy and uneven. The sickening tune behind it makes your stomach wrench. You stay far from the door as the handle jiggles, the deadbolt keeping it from opening.

“Sweetie. I just wanna talk. You don’t have to open the door. Just talk to me…”

You hug yourself and gulp. There were men in the shelter who tried to talk to you, the ones who got too close, who would stand over you while you slept. You were lucky they went away when they were caught.

There’s another shift and the floorboards groan. You hear an odd scuff and see something slide beneath the door slowly. Little by little. It’s a hand mirror, just thin enough to fit. Oh my god.

“Sweetie, I wanna know your na–”

The click of a mechanism and the grind of hinges interrupt your unwanted visitor. The mirror stills and the floor creaks again. You chew your lip as you listen with bated breath.

“Oh, hi,” the same voice greets someone.

“Go,” the deep voice orders gruffly.

“You can’t make me–”

“What are you doing out here?” The other man asks. You recognise S’s timbre.

“N-nothing. I live here too. I can be in the halls,” the strange man responds.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“I wasn’t making noise.”

There’s a pause. Footsteps follow, getting closer, and you hear the squeaky voice utter a ‘no’ as the mirror wiggles slightly then is kicked further inside, scuttling over the floor.

“What the hell?” S growls, “you leave her alone.”

“I wasn’t bothering her–”

“I know what you were doing. I know who you are. What you are. So go before I crush you like the worm you are,” S’s words make even you shrink in fear.

“Ha, you think you deserve her. Because you look like you do,” the other man accuses, “you don’t scare me.”

“I don’t care if I scare you, I’ll break you in half if I see you at her door again,” S sneers and there’s a thump on the door, followed by an ‘oomph’. “Got it?”

“Got… it,” the breathy hiss chokes out, “let me go.”

A sudden scramble of footsteps, as if thrown off balance, clatter across the floor. They continue, quicker and quicker until you can’t hear them. You hear a sniff, then a sigh. A shadow appears at the bottom of the door.

“Hope you’re okay in there,” S says, “I’ll keep an ear out for that creep.” He pauses as if waiting for an answer but you can’t find one past the hammer of your heartbeat, “have a good night.”

The floor groans with his weight as he retreats and his door gently clasps. You can’t move. You lean into the wall and let your legs fold as you slide down onto your bottom. You’ll leave the light on for tonight. You don’t think you can face the dark.

[thesilversun]

A bit more from the still as yet untitled Difang to Difanghua fic.

previous bit for wip wednesday here

Li Lianhua is still missing, Fang Duobing is taking it hard, and Di Feisheng isn't managing much better.

Inside the Lotus Tower everything is as it had been left, only now with the beginnings of a fine layer of dust forming. 

He doesn’t look at the bed. (No longer slept in) At the neatly folded covers. (No longer left in disarray where he's got distracted) Or at the cooking pots. (No questionable food bubbling in them) Or the mismatch jars of unlabelled herbs and spices. (No more strange combinations) 

The first thing he really looks at just plant in a pot, left on the table, a water dipper beside it. Dry leaves have dropped from it. Dark, crisp little things devoid of life. 

It’s just a plant, but lump it brings to Fang Duobing’s throat is out of proportion.  

Hulijing has travelled with him, the horses are safe and cared for, and the Lotus Tower secured and parked up safely.  

He’d not thought about the plants. Li Lianhua’s plants. 

The ones on the tubs on the outside of the Tower are mostly fine. They’ve been watered when the rain falls. The indoor plants, the ones grown in pots, either for planting out later or because they didn’t need to have grown large before they could be used, haven’t fared so well. Brown and withered they straggle forlornly from their pots balanced shelves and the tops of cupboards. 

His eyes sting, the room going blurry. Li Lianhua is going to be so disappointed in him when he finds out he’s failed to even keep a plant alive. He’d spent so long growing some of them. 

Maybe they aren’t dead yet.  

They might be hibernating or whatever it is plants do in the winter. Plants could do that, couldn’t they? Or was it just trees?  Either way, surely he can still save them. Maybe they aren’t so far gone. Wasn’t bringing wilted flowers back to full bloom one of the first ways Li Lianhua had shown him how Yangzhouman could be used? 

He can do this.  

Surely, he can do this, he tells himself. He can put this right at least. 

If a thing is difficult, even if he’s been told it’s impossible, it's never been a deterrent to him. Not overcoming his childhood illness, not joining Baichuan Court, not finding Li Lianhua for the first time. No, challenges were meant to be met head on and continued with stubbornly until he succeeds.  

Determined now, Fang Duobing gathers the wilting and dead pot plants onto the table, pours water onto the dry soil. It runs through the cracked earth and out the bottom of the pots.  

Sitting on the floor watching him, Hulijng cocks her head to one side as the water drips slowly off the edge of the table.  

Leaving the plants for a moment, Fang Duobing fills her water bowl and puts out some food for her. He should probably eat too, but nothing appeals to him. If he can save Li Lianhua’s plants maybe that is a sign he’ll save him too. Maybe if he can make them live he won’t feel too heart sick and full of grief to eat to tonight.    

Placing the pots into bowls of water this time, he lets the soil go from grey back to a rich black-brown. That on its own won’t be enough, not to see a difference right away, to get that immediate rush of hope. 

Yangzhouman will help with that. Elegant and deadly when use in a fight this other use, to heal and to protect is what Fang Duobing find so special about it. 

It’s strength and softness. Fighting for what you believe in, to make things right, and to provide help and comfort afterwards. 

For some of the plants it doesn’t take much, the lightest of touches, and they act like it’s the first days of spring. Leaves green again, withered buds start to swell and bloom.  With these he carries on, lets them burst into colour and scent, bringing life and brightness back to the room.  

Individually the energy it needs to make them live isn’t much, but it builds up, a slow but sure exhaustion creeping in. He won’t stop thought. Can’t. He can’t let Li Lianhua down in this too.  

Finally, just one dried-up plant remains. The first that he had noticed on the table.  

It’s too far gone. Not water or even him trying to revive it with Yangzhouman works.  It’s dead and there is no bringing it back. It feels far too symbolic. That no matter who else he helps, that in the end, when comes to saving Li Lianhua, he is going to fail.  

Kneeling on the floor, the shrivelled plant held to his chest, Fang Duobing bursts into tears. They’ve been threating all day, and the few that had been shed upon arrive back the Lotus Tower hasn’t eased that.  

Padding over to him, Hulijing licks at his hands. When that doesn't work she rests her head on his knee. Company until it passes, as she’d done with Li Lianhua, when he’d been sick or unable to hide his distress.  

A cold gust of wind makes Fang Duobing look up. Standing in the open doorway, Di Feisheng stares at him.  

“No. No.” It’s said mostly to himself, disbelieving, almost afraid. Then, he crosses the room in just a few steps. “Fang Duobing, is he…” 

“Not that.” Fang Duobing can see the fear in his eyes. Feels it in the pit of his stomach, because it’s all too close to his own. He hates that he’s worried him, he can’t stop the tears either.  He hold up the plant, as if it’s presence will explain. “I forgot to water it. It’s dead. It’s my fault. I know it silly, it’s only a plant, it not-” 

The pot is quickly lifted from his hands and replaced with a jar of wine; the seal already broken.  

“Drink.” 

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 4

Trying to get back to normal after sleeping with your boss is easier said than done. A continuation of chapters 1-3, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 8.3k

Warnings: Mild violence (full fic is pretty smutty so Minors DNI). No use of Y/N.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous of how cute you always make your apartments,” your friend, Cassie, was splayed out like a starfish in the middle of your living room floor. “Why aren’t we roommates? I want a cute apartment.” 

“You had a cute apartment,” you replied, stretched out on your couch, one leg dangling off the side of it. “When I helped you unpack it. And then you trashed it within a week. Which is why we’re not roommates.” 

“I’d keep it clean if I had the right motivation,” she pouted. You smiled. 

“No you wouldn’t. I’d keep it clean and you’d reap the benefits. Which is why we’re not roommates.” 

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighed. You laughed. 

“But thank you for helping me settle in to this place,” you said, looking around your freshly unpacked living room, a pile of broken down boxes sitting by your front door. “It made it a lot easier, having an extra set of hands.” 

It was true. After Joel and Tommy had left the day before, you’d basically just cried half the night, sitting on your couch and staring into space and trying to think about anything besides what you’d been doing the night before. When you went to bed, you told yourself you were getting up and unpacking in the morning. You had to keep going. Just because things hadn’t worked out with Joel didn’t mean you got to derail your life, even if that’s all you really felt like doing. 

When Cassie called to see if you wanted help unpacking, you’d jumped on it. You didn’t have a ton of stuff but you had enough that it seemed a bit overwhelming to do on your own. She helped you get through every last box, setting knick-knacks out on the bookshelves and putting plates in cupboards and hanging dresses in your closet. Now, the job was done, the Janis Joplin album you’d been listening to past the end, a pleasant crackle the only thing coming from your newly-set up record player. 

“Happy to do anything to put off studying for finals,” she sighed, her southern drawl thick. You snorted. “Haven’t actually been able to talk with you much lately, how was it living with the DILF?” 

“Cass!” You gaped at her. She smirked. “Come on…” 

“What!” She laughed. “I’ve only met him like twice but dude is hot. Like if he was in hell I’d buy a one way ticket hot.” 

“You’re insane,” you groaned. 

“And I can’t believe you haven’t made a move on him,” she said. “I mean, the set up could not be better. Or more porn-y. You’re the hot babysitter! All young and sexy hanging around his house all the time. All you’d probably have to do is drop one hint and he’d be all over you…” 

“Turns out all I had to do was strip and get in his pool while tipsy,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it. Cassie sat up so fast it looked like she was on a spring. 

“YOU WHAT?” She shrieked. 

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving at her. “I just moved in, I’d rather my neighbors not hate me already…” 

“You fucked the DILF?” She sat up on her knees and scooted across the floor until she was in your face. 

“Can you call him something else, please?” You groaned. 

“Did you fuck him?” She demanded. “I’ll call him that again if you don’t spill.” 

“I… had sex with Joel,” you winced as you said it. She squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking you with it. “Ow.” 

“When?” She demanded. “How? How was it? What are you doing now? Details, woman!” 

“Friday night?” You asked more than answered. 

“Oh my God,” she got up, lifting your legs off the couch and putting them on the floor so she could sit next to you. You sighed and sat up, tucking yourself into the corner and clutching a pillow to your stomach, your legs curled beside you. “Wait, was that your first time? That was your first time, right?” 

“Yeah,” you winced again. She grabbed the pillow and hit your legs with it again. 

“Oh. My. God.” She smacked you with the pillow on each word and you groaned, burying your face in the pillow on your lap. “How’d it happen?” 

You pulled your face from the pillow and sighed. 

“I made him dinner,” you said. “Well, I made him and Sarah dinner but Sarah ended up at a friend’s house for a slumber party so it was just the two of us…” 

“Sure, sure,” she nodded along. “You’re a great cook, not surprised that seduced him.” 

“I wasn’t trying to seduce him,” you groaned. “I swear, I really wasn’t…” 

“You’ve had a crush on the guy for more than a year,” she rolled her eyes. “It was at least subconscious seduction.” 

“Either way,” you sighed. “I’d been cooking and it was warm and I asked if I could swim but I didn’t have a swim suit…” 

“So you skinny dipped.” 

“No!” You glared at her. “I… jumped in the pool in my underwear.” 

“Girl!” 

“It wasn’t even sexy underwear!” You replied. “But I did… take my dress off in front of him.” 

“Oh my GOD you big slut!” Cassie was giddy. You groaned. “I love it, tell me more.” 

“He seemed to like me taking my clothes off?” You more asked than said. You were still uncertain about that, just how much he’d actually liked it. 

“Well duh,” she shrugged. “You’re a hot young thing, of course he liked it, he’s a guy.” 

“I didn’t think he saw me that way,” your hold on the pillow tightened. “But I saw how he was looking at me… or I thought I did, anyway. So he got in the pool too, in his boxers…” She shrieked before covering her mouth and nodding you on. “ And then… one thing led to another.” 

“So was it good?” She asked. You blushed and nodded. “OK, how good? Like, I know you don’t have much to compare it to but…” 

“Cass,” you said earnestly. “It was… holy shit. It was so fucking good.” 

“Did you…” she raised her eyebrows at you. You just frowned. She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God you’re such a virgin.” 

“Not anymore,” you smirked a little. She glared at you. 

“You know what I’m asking,” she said. “Did you finish? Or at least get close? It was your first time, you can’t really expect…” 

“Oh, I finished,” you cut her off. She looked surprised. 

“You seem awful certain of yourself there.” 

“Because I finished a lot,” you said, smiling in spite of yourself. “And hard. So many times, Cass.” 

She blinked in shock. 

“How many times?” She asked. You thought for a second. 

“Well, there was twice in the pool,” you said. “Then once in the shower and two more times in bed… I think that’s it.” 

“How many times did you fuck him?” She demanded. 

“Just twice!” You said, defensive. 

“And he got you off five times.” 

You just nodded. 

“Holy shit,” she gaped at you. “I’d need to fuck Chad like 15 times to have five orgasms, and that’s just if he hits his average.” 

You just shrugged, not really sure what else to say. 

“That’s it,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Now that Chad and I are done, next guy I date is going to be a DILF. I’m not settling for anything less than multiple orgasms from day one.” 

“I’m sorry about you and Chad,” you said. She waved you off. 

“I’m not dating anyone who has friends like Jeremy,” she scoffed. “Fuck that guy. Fuck both those guys. Besides, now I’m free to find myself a DILF. Anyway, what are you guys going to do now? Have you talked about it?”

“We’re not doing anything about it,” you sighed. “I’m his daughter’s nanny and he said he has to do what’s best for her. Which he’s right, he does. And that’s not me.” 

You tried to fight the tears that were welling up in you but you didn’t do a good job of it, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep from crying. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Cassie’s voice softened, her typical bravado gone. She pulled you against her, running her hand down your back. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I did it to myself,” you sniffed into her shoulder. “He’s a good dad, his daughter takes priority. I knew that, I knew this could happen….” 

“Are you still going to work for him?” She asked, still holding you. 

“Yeah,” you said. “At least, I sure hope so. I don’t have another way to pay rent this summer.” 

She pulled back from you, a sad look on her face. 

“Think you can handle that?” She asked. “Being around the guy you love and you lost your virginity to that often?” 

“I never said I loved him,” you wiped your cheeks. 

“Oh honey,” she smiled sadly. “C’mon. I’m not that dumb and I know you’re not that dumb.” 

“I’ll just…” you shrugged. “I’ll deal with it. I don’t have another way to pay rent and I really don’t want to just leave Sarah like that. I’m an adult. When you do adult stuff sometimes you have to deal with adult consequences. Right?” 

She just sighed. 

“I’m sleeping over,” she said. Before you opened your mouth to protest, she cut you off. “No, I am. You need ice cream and you need liquor and I need… to have an excuse to not study for my chem final.” You laughed and she smiled. “It’ll be better tomorrow. Promise.”

She was right, it was a bit better the next day. The hollow ache in your chest was better when she was there. Cassie got bourbon and insisted that it didn’t really count as drinking it when you just poured it over ice cream. You ordered a pizza loaded with mushrooms and extra cheese and watched your favorite romantic comedies before eventually passing out on the floor of your living room, surrounded by the glow of TV static and empty wine bottles. 

Finals felt particularly hard that year. You’d always been a good test taker and studying had never been a major hurdle for you, but every class felt like a slog as you fought to get through your last week of the semester. It was like your brain was somewhere else entirely. You could focus on the exam for a few minutes if you really forced yourself to, but the second your mind drifted even slightly, you were wondering what Joel was doing. What was he feeling? Was he missing you or had Friday night barely even registered for him? 

Sometimes, when your heart and mind wanted to be especially cruel, your thoughts drifted to Friday night. Just how full you’d felt and how empty you felt now. How he’d carefully, expertly drawn pleasure from your body like it was an art form. The way you’d felt closer to him than you had to any other person. And then he’d cut you off cold. Hadn’t even called. Maybe it really hadn’t mattered to him. Which was fine. Or so you tried to convince yourself. Just because it had been special for you doesn’t mean it had to be special for him and that was OK. It’s not like you hadn’t enjoyed it. That’s all he’d really owed you, you supposed. A good time in bed. And he’d definitely delivered on that. 

That’s what you decided the night before you were set to start looking after Sarah again. It had been two weeks since you’d last seen or heard from Joel. You weren’t sure what seeing him again would do to you. It wasn’t like you were some heartbroken little girl but you weren’t going to pretend like it wasn’t going to hurt. It definitely was. But, if you thought about it as a one night thing - just an exchange between two people who wanted to have some fun - that made it a bit better. Like you hadn’t been let down. 

“You can do this,” you said to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling. “It’s just work. You’ve always had a crush on Joel. This isn’t any different than before. You’ll hardly see the guy. You can do this.” 

Your resolve wavered a bit as you knocked on his front door the next morning. There was no response but you could hear voices inside. You glanced at your watch. 7:25 a.m. He’d need to leave for work in 20 minutes. You’d always just let yourself in the summer before… You tested the door. Unlocked.

“You can do this,” you said again, opening the front door. 

“But I want to go!” Sarah was all but yelling at her father. “It’s not fair!” 

“I don’t care if it’s fair or not,” Joel said back, sounding exasperated. “You’re not going, you’re too young…” 

“But everyone’s going!” She whined. 

You went further into the house, frowning as you fidgeted with the pendent around your neck. 

“Don’t care if everyone in Austin is goin’ because you ain’t,” Joel’s accent was getting thicker. You half smiled. This fight had probably been going for a minute. You found them both in Sarah’s room, the girl standing defiantly with her arms crossed, staring her father down, Joel with his hands on his hips looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. 

“Where isn’t she going?” You asked, leaning against the doorway. Both of their heads whipped around to see you, Sarah’s face lighting up and Joel’s mouth just hanging open slightly. 

“Maybe you can convince him,” Sarah said. “He actually LISTENS to you…” 

“I’m not exactly a great parent convincer,” you scrunched your nose at her. “I just let you get away with more than he does so you think I am.” 

Joel was still gaping at you. 

“Sorry,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Door was open, I don’t think you heard me knock over the thermonuclear war happening in here so I just let myself in…” 

“That’s fine,” he said quickly. “Just… How’ve you been?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Finals are over, so that’s nice.” 

“Good,” he said, nodding. “That’s… I never did… Well I didn’t go to school so I don’t know shit about finals but probably good to have them done.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Biochem was rough but I got an A-.” 

You just looked at each other for a moment. 

“Where isn’t Sarah going?” You asked eventually. 

“A pool party,” Sarah said. “There’s a boy at school…” 

“And there it is,” Joel cut her off, turning his attention back to his daughter. “You’re not going, I can’t be there so you’re not going. You’re too young to be going and hanging out with some boy in your bathing suit…” 

“It’s not like we’re going to be by ourselves, Dad!” She whined. “You’re being so lame!” 

“Sarah,” he sighed. 

“Joel?” You said. He turned his head to face you so fast it almost made you jump. “Can I talk to you? Just… 30 seconds.” You looked at Sarah. “No eavesdropping.” 

You led the way to the living room, pulling Joel into the corner of the room furthest from Sarah’s bedroom door. 

“Are you only opposed because she’d be going unsupervised?” You asked. 

“Well, that and she’s too young for boy girl parties,” he muttered. “I thought I had another three years before I had to deal with this shit. Two at least.” 

“Well yeah, she’s too young for THAT kind of boy girl party but she’s 10,” you shrugged. “I think you’re trying to make this more than it is. She’s got that one piece, right?” 

“She’s gotten taller since last summer though…” he looked back towards her room. 

“OK,” you shrugged. “I’ll take her shopping, find her something that she likes that you’ll sign off on and I’ll take her to the party and make sure all the boys behave themselves.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he shook his head. 

“You’re not,” you shrugged. “I’m offering. It’s going to be a party which means plenty of kids. She’ll probably feel very left out if she doesn’t get to go and all her friends are going to be talking about it all summer if they’re not all together again until the school year starts. You really want to deal with her being pissy at you that long? Because tween girls are a whole different animal, they can hold grudges like no other…”  

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if she’s not a damn angel this whole week…” 

“Sarah’s always an angel,” you smirked a bit at him. 

“We both know that ain’t true,” he muttered and then sighed. “But she’s a good kid. A great kid. I should give her more credit, huh?” 

“Yup,” you nodded. “You lucked out with that one, Miller.” 

“I did,” he sighed again, before looking down at you. “Hey, um…” 

“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s OK?” You said quickly. “Just go tell your kid that you’re the cool dad and then go to work, OK?” 

His eyes searched yours for a moment. 

“Yeah, OK.” 

When Joel told Sarah she could go to the pool party, it was like a switch flipped. She flung her arms around her dad’s neck, leaping at him so he had to catch her. He smiled over her shoulder at you and you smiled back. It was so easy, making them both happy. You could do that. 

When Joel left for work, things got easier. It was easy to pretend that the house was the same as it had always been - definitely hadn’t been fucked within an inch of your life in here, no sir. You fell into an easy rhythm with Sarah, walking down to the new playground they’d put in at the park down the road - this one had a really tall slide that the bigger kids were all about. Walking back for lunch. You went to the mall that day to shop for a swim suit instead of going to the library and you found a suit that Sarah loved (it was a two piece) that you thought Joel could tolerate (it was a tankini that covered everything but a sliver of skin between the top and the bottoms.) Joel got home a little after five and you all but ran out the door even as he tried to make awkward small talk with you. 

It was odd, feeling accomplished about just surviving the day. But you’d seen Joel again and hadn’t even cried. Yet. You probably would later but you’d deal with that when the time came. You decided you’d earned a treat but your bank account balance was a bit dismal, so you stopped at your favorite coffee shop. Yes, it just so happened to be the one you’d met Joel at the first time, so what? You could do that. Just go there without thinking about him. Much. 

You got yourself an iced lavender latte and at a small table at the back, tucking yourself into the corner of the bench side of it and pulling out your book. You’d purposely picked something that you’d have to focus on - “The Count of Monte Cristo” in the original French - so your mind wouldn’t wander to dangerous places. Like how Joel still smelled like sawdust. 

“That final was a bitch, wasn’t it?” 

You jumped a little, looking around for who spoke. There was a man in front of you, about your age, smiling with open eyes, leaning on the chair across from you. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, lowering the book. 

“Biochem,” he said, giving you a sheepish half smile. “We weren’t in the same lab but we were in the same lecture hall. You always sat near the front, on the side of the room with the wonky projector? You always got to class earlier than me…” 

“Oh,” you weren’t really sure what to say about that. You smiled anyway. “Yeah, that sounds like me. And yeah, that final… woof.” 

“Right?” He took the seat across from you. “I thought I was toast. Heard a rumor you set the curve, though.” 

“Seems like a vicious lie to me,” you smiled a little broader. “Couldn’t possibly have a reliable source for that…” 

“Just the TA,” he winked. You put your book face down on the table, keeping your place. “Are you pre-med then?” 

“Just bio,” you replied. “I’d love to do pre-med but I just can’t wrap my head around taking out enough student loans to become a doctor.” 

“Damn,” he said. “And here I’d hoped we’d have more classes together.” 

“Why would you hope for a thing like that?” You asked, smiling a bit bigger. 

“The pre-med lecture halls look real boring after a while,” he leaned on the small table. “Course, maybe that’s a good thing. Fewer distractions.” 

“I’m a distraction?” You asked, raising a brow at him. 

“A nice one,” he nodded. “Because without you there, I usually set the curve.” 

You chatted with him for a while longer. His name was Brad and he claimed to have been trying to work up the courage to talk to you all semester. He took running into you at the coffee shop to be a sign that he should actually say something to you. You didn’t fight him on the idea. He seemed… nice. He was flirting with you and it felt good, even if you weren’t especially interested in him. 

“Are you free Friday?” He asked. “My roommate’s band is playing and I’ll be honest, I’d love to have someone suffer with me.” 

“I mean, since you’re selling it so hard,” you teased. He laughed. 

“They’re actually not bad,” he said. “I just don’t want to show up with the prettiest girl and have her run off with the lead guitarist. Also, my roommate’s the lead guitarist.” 

“Oh, so the bassist is fine?” You raised your eyebrows. 

“Yeah, that’d sting less,” he said. “Plus the bassist is kind of a dumbass and you’re smart so you’ll get bored quick. I’d still have a shot.” 

“Well so long as the important things are settled,” you smiled. “Then yeah, I’d like to come.” 

You exchanged information and you put his number in your book as a bookmark, gathering your things and heading home as the coffee shop closed. 

“You need to dress like a slut.” Cassie was rifling through your closet Thursday night. You’d managed to avoid Joel for almost the entire week, saying only a handful of words to him since Monday. You practically tripped over yourself trying to get out the door when he came home, desperate to put some distance between you. He wasn’t exactly trying to stop you, either, seemingly happy to get you out of his hair as soon as humanly possible. You kept trying to think about Brad. He was nice. He was smart. He was definitely interested. He was even pretty cute. He just… wasn’t Joel. 

“I’m not dressing like a slut,” you sighed, flat on your back on your bed, your head hanging over the side as you watched her go through your clothes. 

“Want to borrow something from me?” She said, ignoring you. “You need something that says ‘hey Brad, I’m open for business.’” 

“Do I?” You asked.

“Want to get over Joel?” She asked, cocking her head all the way to the side to try to meet your eyes. “Fuck Brad.” 

“It’s a first date,” you said. “I’m not fucking Brad.” 

“Fucked Joel without a first date,” she muttered. 

“Hey!” You said, indignant. “That’s different. We’d known each other a while.” 

“Well Brad’s been gazing longingly across a lecture hall at you for half a year,” she replied. “That almost counts.” 

“I wish I could be more casual about sex…” you began but she interrupted you. 

“The way you become more casual about sex is by having casual sex,” she said. “Sweetie, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise it’s not. At least think about it, something to get that man out of your system. You need it.” 

You sighed, thinking for the millionth time about how good he’d felt sinking into your body. How close you felt to him when talking in the dark, his skin on yours. 

“Yeah,” you signed, trying to imagine what it would be like to feel Brad’s lips on your skin. But he kept changing shape until it wasn’t Brad in your mind anymore. “I do need it.” 

Friday was Sarah’s pool party, making it a pretty damn easy day for you at work. You brought a bottle of nail polish and you sat on the deck of the pool as you just watched Sarah and Lizzie play with Charlie - the boy that had Joel so worried, a red headed kid who looked like he was made of more freckles than anything else - and about a dozen other kids you didn’t know. You gave yourself a mani-pedi poolside, trying to keep from getting soaked by splashing kids. 

“So are you Sarah’s step-mom?” A woman smiled stiffly down at you, a small pile of towels in her arms. 

“Oh, no,” you laughed a little. “Just the nanny.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. She sat down next to you. “I’m Clare’s mom, she’s the one in the blue suit.” She pointed her daughter out. She was leaping into the water, blonde pigtails streaming out behind her. 

“She seems like a fun kid,” you smiled before going back to your toes. 

“She’s the best,” she said. You felt her watching you. “So you’re just the nanny then?” 

“Last time I checked,” you said absently, cleaning up the stray polish on your big toe. “Why?” 

“Oh, no big reason,” she laughed a little. “I’d just… well, I’d be lying if I said just about every single mom here hasn’t had her eye on Joel Miller.” 

“Really?” You said, looking over at her. 

“Oh heck yeah,” she laughed. “I mean, you’ve met him. Obviously. A man who looks that good, knows how to fix things around the house AND he’s a dedicated parent? My goodness.” 

“Mr. Miller is pretty great,” you smiled tightly, going back to your polish. “Really nice boss. And Sarah’s a dream. I lucked out.” 

“I’m just relieved you’re not the girlfriend,” she said. “Not for me, of course. Happily married for 13 years. But my friend Susan over there would be heartbroken. She sent me over to do recon.” 

You glanced up and saw a woman in a lime green one piece eyeing you from across the pool. She had to be 20 years older than you which gave her a good 10 years on Joel. 

“Feel free to report back that Mr. Miller is - as far as the nanny is aware - very much on the market,” you said, closing the bottle of nail polish. Sarah shoved Lizzie in the pool and then jumped in after her with a shriek. “Susan should definitely give it a go, though. Mr. Miller’s busy but I think he’d make time for the right person.” 

“Thanks so much, sweetie,” she smiled broadly. “So nice to meet you! Hope to see you at more of these types of things.” 

“You too,” you smiled politely. 

The pool party wound down but Sarah and Lizzie were getting on like a house on fire. You found Lizzie’s mom - a nice if frazzled woman named Margie who you’d met a few times before - and invited her daughter over to keep swimming at the Millers’ until Joel got home around six. 

“Oh, you’re a dream!” She pulled you into a hug. “I’ve been desperate to go run some errands without Lizzie tossing stuff in the cart…” 

“No problem,” you smiled. “Happy to take the girls.” 

They sang Britney Spears on the top of their lungs the whole drive home and practically hurled themselves into the pool the second they were in the door. You just laughed, going to sit outside to watch them play, bringing your book to keep you occupied. You’d almost survived the first week of summer. You hadn’t caved and tried to fuck Joel again. You could do this. You were almost positive. 

***

Joel heard the shriek of girls in the backyard the second his truck door opened. He sighed and shook his head. So Sarah had conned you into having a friend over, even after the party. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. He just hoped to God you weren’t in the pool, too. He didn’t think he could take that. 

He was surprised he’d survived as long as he had. He’d missed you the second he left your apartment the day he helped move you in. Regretted cutting things off with you almost instantly. It seemed like the right thing to do but it felt wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this fucking alone. 

If Sarah had been at a friend’s house that night, he’d have just shown up at your door. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he couldn’t leave his 10-year-old daughter unsupervised. He wanted to apologize to you, beg you to give him a chance. He’d get down on his knees, he didn’t care. 

But just because he wanted that didn’t mean that it was the right thing to do. It would be confusing for Sarah if it didn’t work out - and how could it work out? You were 21 and a college student with a bright future, he was 32 and his life hadn’t been his own in a decade. Sarah had kept him close to home, reminded him of what he should do. What he had to do. 

Then, summer started. You were there in the morning as he tried to get out the door, you were there at night when he got home. He knew you weren’t trying to turn him on - if anything, you were avoiding him like the plague. You’d hardly said two words to him since Monday. But your legs in those shorts, your breasts in those dresses, the ribbons you put on the ends of your braids when you were trying to keep your hair off your neck in the heat. You were so soft and sweet and fucking good and there in his house and he knew how it felt to be inside you… 

You’d better not be in his fucking pool. 

You weren’t. But it was almost worse. You were laid out on a lounge chair on the deck, your back to the door, in white shorts so short he was sure he’d see your ass if you bent over in front of him. Your pale purple tank top clung to you and he could see a hint of a pink bra strap below. You were reading a book in French - because of course you were reading a book in fucking French - and there were ribbons on the ends of your braids. Your nails were pink. He was sure they hadn’t been pink when he saw you this morning. You’d painted your goddamn nails. Why had you painted your goddamn nails? 

“Dad!” Sarah clambered out of the pool in the new suit you’d helped her find. You noticed him then, not having realized he’d gotten home. “Thank you so so so so so so so so much, the party was SO fun…” 

She threw her wet body against him in a hug. 

“Glad you had fun,” he gave her a squeeze and glanced down at you. You were watching him, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, smiling gently. “She behave herself?” 

“Of course,” you said, gathering up some scrap paper from the table beside you and putting it in your book. One piece of paper looked like it had a phone number on it. Joel frowned. “It seemed like everyone had a blast, no trouble at the party whatsoever.” 

“Good,” Joel said. Whose number did you have? Was it some fucking boy’s? Was that why you’d painted your damn nails? You checked your watch. 

“Lizzie’s mom should be here any minute,” you said, getting up from the chair and crossing your arms over your body. Like that was going to stop him from remembering just what you looked like naked. “You’re home a bit earlier than I expected. I can hang out for a bit until she gets here, I don’t want to saddle you with watching an extra kid…” 

“No, you go on home,” he waved you off. He couldn’t handle you being here any longer than you had to be. “Get a start on the weekend.” 

“You’re sure?” You asked, absently running your fingers over your elbow. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly back at him. “Have a good weekend, Joel.” You looked back to the pool, where Sarah had jumped back in. “Bye Sarah!” 

“Bye!” She waved quickly before going back to splashing Lizzie. Joel watched you go until well after you’d closed the front door behind you and he couldn’t see you anymore. 

Margie came by to pick up Lizzie not long after you left, both adults required to herd both girls out of the pool. 

“Would Sarah want to come sleep over?” Margie asked as the girls giggled and wrote new verses to songs Joel was sure he’d heard coming from the boom box in Sarah’s room. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” he shook his head. “Feels like Sarah’s over at y’all’s place as much as she is here…” 

“Honestly, it makes life easier on us,” she smiled. “Sarah’s such a great kid, she keeps Lizzie occupied so I can deal with her brothers. The boys are such a handful… don’t have twins if you can help it, Joel.” 

“I’ll try my best,” he smiled. “If you’re really OK with it…” 

“Really, you’d be doing me a favor,” she insisted. So Joel gave in. And he was home alone for the first time since he’d slept with you. 

He showered and fucked his hand to the memory of making you cum in that shower. He sat on his bed, staring at his phone, telling himself not to call you. He dialed the first four digits of your phone number and then hung up. 

After a while, he called Tommy. 

“Shit, Joel, everything OK?” 

“Why’s something gotta be wrong for me to call?” Joel frowned into the phone. 

“Because it’s Friday night and you never fuckin’ call on a Friday night,” Tommy said. 

“Well, I’m callin’ on a Friday night,” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You doin’ anything fun tonight?” 

“Why?” Joel could hear Tommy’s frown through the phone. “Gonna come drag the party down?” 

“No,” he replied. “Sarah’s just at a friend’s house and I was thinking I should actually get out of my house for a change.” 

“Hell yeah you should!” Tommy said. “I’m going to go listen to some music, should be just your speed…” 

“I could do that,” Joel said. He hadn’t gone to listen to music in a while. That could be fun. It’d get his mind off you, at least. 

“I’ll be by in 20, pick you up,” Tommy said, sounding excited. “This will be good for you, Joel. Promise.” 

And that’s how Joel ended up at a bar in Austin, watching a bunch of fuckin’ kids tune guitars on a Friday night. 

“We’re getting old,” Tommy handed him a bottle of Shiner. “I remember not showing up places like this until after 10. Now it’s not worth the cover charge if we show up that late.” 

“Tell me about it,” Joel muttered, taking a swig. “Barely remember ever being that young.” 

“When you were that young you had a kid,” Tommy said. Joel snorted. He was right. 

They drank and watched as the bar filled up, the band switching to soundcheck not too long after they got there. Joel was actually starting to have fun when the band started playing - they weren’t bad - when he caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He looked instinctively and thought, for half a second, that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren’t. It was you. 

You hadn’t seen him yet. You were wearing one of your dresses - one he hadn’t seen before, white and satiny and form fitting, stopping several inches above your knees. You’d put another fucking ribbon in your hair and curled it, making it look so full and soft. He wanted to tangle his fingers in it, he wanted to ruin it. You were wearing sandals with thick heels that made you taller and your legs look longer and there was gloss on your lips - he caught a glimpse of it when you turned to talk to the man next to you. A man who put his hand on your lower back. Fuck. 

He guided you to a corner of the room, introduced you to the band waiting to play next. Joel could only see you from behind, the white of your dress reflecting the lights from the stage, the man’s hand slipping around your waist. His pinky drifted down, brushing the top of your ass, his thumb running over your ribs. Joel squeezed the beer bottle so hard he was worried it would break. 

“Oh shit, that’s the Kid!” Tommy said, realizing where Joel was looking and getting down from his stool. 

“No, wait,” Joel said, but he didn’t catch Tommy in time, his brother pushing through the increasingly crowded bar until he hugged you from behind. Joel could just watch, like a fucking train wreck, as you realized he was there and that Tommy was all but dragging you and your date over to their table. You said your polite goodbyes to the band and turned and said something to your date, your eyebrows knitted together. 

“Look who I found!” Tommy said proudly, taking his seat again. 

“Hey Joel,” you smiled tightly at him. 

“Hey Kid,” he replied, taking a drink of beer. Fuck, your tits in that dress. He wanted to kiss you, starting at your lips and working his way down until his mouth was on your cleavage. 

“This is Brad,” you said quickly. “Brad, this Joel. I nanny his daughter, Sarah.” 

“Oh, so you’re the boss!” Brad smiled. He was abnormally tall, taller than Joel, with hair that looked like he was trying to be in a fucking boy band. He was all limbs, gangly, clearly never done a day’s hard work in his life. And he was out with you. He held out a hand. “Good to meet you.” 

“You too.” 

Tommy looked back and forth between you, your date and Joel. 

“I need another beer,” he said quickly. “Kid, can I get you something? Joel? Brad?” 

“I’ll take a Shiner,” you smiled. 

“I’ll come with you,” Brad said, giving you a quick squeeze before looking to Joel. “Look out for my girl for a minute, will ya?” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. He took another drink. Tommy and Brad left the table and you watched them go for a moment before turning back to Joel. 

“I’m really sorry,” you said quickly, biting your lip. “I had no idea you’d be here, Brad’s roommate’s band is up next but we can go…” 

“It’s just a bar, Kid,” Joel shrugged. “No reason for anyone to go anywhere.” 

“Oh,” you deflated a bit. “OK. Thanks.” 

“Yup,” he said, taking another drink. He needed to be a lot drunker than this. So much drunker than this. You watched the band, your head bobbing in time to the music. 

“So you’re his girl now, huh?” Joel said after a moment. 

“It’s our first date,” you said, tone sharper than usual. He deserved that. “I don’t know what I am yet.” 

“Seems to think you’re his girl,” he replied. 

“It’s a figure of speech, Joel.” 

“You fucked ‘em yet?” He asked, taking another drink. He did it to be mean. He did it to push you away. He couldn’t just sit here with you this close, not like this. Your mouth fell open for a second before you fixed him with a glare. 

“You don’t get to just ask me that,” you snapped. There were tears in your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes that were longer and darker than usual. “You don’t get to judge me for that. Just because you got bored with me doesn’t mean everyone has, I can fuck whoever I want. It’s none of your damn business!” 

“One Shiner!” Brad slid his arm back around your waist, handing you one of the beers in his other hand. You took it from him, taking a drink while blinking back your tears. Brad hadn’t noticed but Tommy had, frowning and looking between you and Joel as he wordlessly set another beer in front of his brother. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed for a second and smiled up at him before turning back to the table. “I think I want to get up closer to the band, but it was good to see you Tommy, Joel. Have a good weekend, guys.” 

You laced your fingers in Brad’s and pulled him behind you toward the stage. Your body disappeared behind his, Brad pressing himself against your back. One of his hands moved around you. Joel didn’t want to think about the parts of you he was touching with that fucking hand. 

“What the fuck was that, Joel?” Tommy demanded. 

“What was what?” He asked, not looking at him. 

“That!” Tommy snapped. “With the Kid! Don’t treat me like I’m a fucking idiot, what happened between you two.” 

“Nothin’ happened.” 

“Well I know that’s bullshit,” he said. “What happened to ‘she’s off limits?’ Or was that rule just for me?” 

“She is off limits,” Joel growled. “She’s especially off limits for me.” 

“She know that?” Tommy demanded. 

“Drop it, Tommy,” Joel snapped, smacking the beer bottle down on the table with more force than he’d meant to. 

“Did you seriously fuck your nanny?” He hissed at him. Joel winced. “Jesus Christ Joel. You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ nerve…” 

“I swear to God Tommy I will lay you out,” Joel said. “Don’t fuckin’ tempt me.” 

“What’d you do, convince her you loved her and then bail?” He asked. “Doubt a sweet girl like that woulda just jumped in bed with the dad of one of the kids she looks after, so what’d you tell her?” 

“Tommy,” Joel growled. 

“Was it before or after you told me she was off limits?” He demanded. “You worried I’d actually do right by her and she’d get wise to your shit? Just how drunk’d you have to get her to get her into bed with you?” 

Joel snapped. He stood up so fast the stool flew to the ground with a crash and he punched Tommy across the cheek, sending the younger man sprawling into the table next to him. It was like the whole bar froze. The band stopped playing, an eerie silence falling. Joel flexed his hand as his brother staggered back to his feet, holding his face. 

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel,” he said, breathless. 

Joel looked up and immediately found your face in the crowd around the stage. Brad’s arms were around you, holding you back. Your eyes were wide, your mouth open in shock. Or maybe horror. He couldn’t quite tell. 

“C’mon man,” a bouncer grabbed Joel’s shoulder but he shrugged it off. 

“It’s cool,” Tommy glared at Joel as he said it. “Just my brother. He’s a dick. We’re goin’.” 

Joel walked straight past Tommy’s truck, shoving the hand he’d hit him with in his pocket. 

“Where the fuck you goin’ asshole?” Tommy yelled after him. Joel ignored him. Tommy ran and caught him, his hand on his shoulder pulling him around to face him. Joel got ready to punch him again but Tommy’s hands went up. “Don’t make this worse than it is. You want some meddling asshole to call the fuckin’ cops?” 

Joel dropped his fist, glaring at his brother. 

“You made a goddamn fool out of yourself,” he said, his cheek already bruising. “And you fuckin’ deserved it. The hell were you thinking, messing with that girl?” 

Joel didn’t say anything, just went back and climbed in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck. 

The drive to Joel’s was silent and he hoped that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Tommy followed him inside, either stupid as hell or itching for a fight. 

“What happened, Joel?” He asked, voice calm for the first time since the bar. “With you and her.” 

“Sarah was at a friend’s place,” he said, voice pained. “We had some wine… Fuck, Tommy, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” 

“Shit,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. “When was this?” 

“Few weeks back,” Joel muttered. 

“And she’s still working for you?” Tommy asked. Joel just nodded. “And nothing’s happened since?” 

“No,” Joel said. 

“Because you’re not interested?” He asked. Joel glared at him. “Yeah, thought that might be the case.”

“Don’t matter how I feel about it,” he sighed. “She’s too young, too big a future ahead of her to get bogged down with me. And Sarah… Sarah fuckin’ loves her. I couldn’t ruin that for her just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants and I…” 

Joel went quiet. 

“And you what.”

“I think… I think I love her, Tommy,” Joel groaned. “I just want her here all the damn time. Want to hear her voice and see her things and smell her hair. I want her leaving her fuckin’ hair in my damn shower every day, I kept finding it for days after and I miss it. Keep hoping I’ll find more sometime. And that guy… He didn’t seem bad, not like that last fuckin’ guy but I don’t trust him, don’t trust any of them, not with her.”  

“You can’t live like this, Joel,” Tommy said quietly. “Obviously. You can’t just go punching people because you’re a jealous asshole. You either need to get away from her entirely - which means cutting her out of Sarah’s life, too - or you need to figure your shit out. Either get over her or get with her - if she’ll still have you.” 

Tommy stood up, clapping Joel on the shoulder. 

“Sorry I hit you,” Joel muttered. 

“Rather get punched in the face than deal with the shit you’ve got goin’ on,” Tommy smiled a bit. “You’ll get it together.” 

“Thanks.” 

He walked him out, locking the door behind him. 

Joel wasn’t any calmer when Tommy left. He paced the living room for a bit before stepping out back, staring down at the pool, the place he’d stood the first time he’d kissed you. You were so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite as happy as that night, felt quite so right with the world. He knew he should regret it but he couldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to regret a damn thing when it led to touching you. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, going back inside and grabbing his keys. 

He made it to your place in less than 10 minutes, driving faster than he should have. Your car was in the lot but that didn’t mean much if you were still out with that guy. Or - fuck - what if you’d brought him back here. Didn’t matter, he’d made up his mind. If the guy was in your apartment, he wouldn’t punch him. It’d be hard, but he wouldn’t. 

He took the stairs up to your door two at a time and started knocking before he came to a stop in front of it. But there was no response. He tried knocking again. Nothing. 

Joel leaned out over the railing, around to where the windows to your apartment would be. All the lights looked to be off. So you were still out with Brad. Maybe you’d gone back to his place. After what he’d said to you that night, he wouldn’t blame you. 

He sat down, back against the wall next to your door, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the siding. He closed his eyes. He’d just be here when you got home. You’d have to come home sometime. He could wait. For you, he had all the time in the world. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait that long. He heard you before he saw you. 

“It was nuts, Cass,” you were trying to be quiet as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. “I don’t know what the hell happened. I tried to explain it to Brad but I have no idea what he thinks. Probably that my boss is insane…” 

You were at the top of the stairs now, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, a small orange and white Whataburger cup clutched tight in the other. You stared at Joel for a second. 

“Cass?” You said, still staring at him as he got to his feet. “Call you in the morning.” 

You flipped the phone shut, putting it in your bag and getting out your keys, watching Joel the whole time like you thought he was a wild animal who could do something unhinged at any moment. Which, he figured, was fair. 

“You’ve got some nerve,” you said, keeping your eyes on him as you went to your door and put the keys in the deadbolt, stopping short of opening it. 

“I know,” he said. “Can we talk?” 

You watched him for a moment before you sighed and opened your door, welcoming him in. 

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Three

DRINKING GAME / BREATH PLAY / FISTING (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Summary: When you tell Jack you’ve never had whiskey before, even a shot of your employer Statesman, he comes up with a way for you to try it.

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, language, crying, pet names, no use of Y/N, Jack being a big old softie.

Word Count: 3k

Notes: This story takes place in an AU where Statesman is just a legitimate distillery, the main characters all still work there but would have normal, none spy positions. I have no idea of these, please don’t ask me!

“What d’you mean you’ve never tried Statesman?!”

That’s how it started, a casual conversation with the infamous Whiskey and now, you found him banging on the door of your cottage in the distillery’s grounds.

You opened the door and welcomed him in.

“I already told you, I don’t drink whiskey.”

“Well, you’ve clearly never tried the beautiful balance of bold flavour in our finest proof.”

“I run the socials, Jack, you don’t need to run the copy by me.”

He was right in what he was saying, unlike the other drinks on the market, the company’s signature blend was the best.

The only whiskey you’d had shared his name and the only reason you had it then was because it was a work’s party. That night ended with one last free shot from the business’s tab and after you knocked it back, you instantly turned to the person next to you and insisted they put you in a cab.

The next day was not pretty.

“Champ doesn’t drink Statesman either.”

“True,” Jack put a finger up before pointing it at you. “But he’s a sommelier, he never swallows.”

You snort as your mind immediately goes to the naughtiest thought possible. Also, it’s sweet how Jack has so much enthusiasm behind a comment you’re pretty sure is wrong.

You scrunch your nose, “I don’t think that’s right?”

“And you know what I thinks not right?”

He picks up the bottle he’d placed on the kitchen counter, waving it gently as he swaggered towards you like any cowboy would. There was a glint in his eye and a quirk hidden under his moustache. He stood close enough for you to get a whiff of his tobacco scented aftershave, the wood undertones from a day traipsing through distillery floors.

You swallow, eyes flits from the bottle to his face.

“Wanna play a game?”

Your teeth draw in your bottom lip.

Somewhere in your cupboards, you managed to find shot glasses tucked in the furthest depths. In the distance, he took a peek, catching how your shorts rode up a little as you leaned in and behind the small wooden door.

Pleased with your hidden treasure, you wander back to Jack who’d laid out cushions on the floor opposite sides of your coffee table. He complains about a bad back which is why he claimed the side against the couch to prop himself up.

“What are we playing? I’ve got cards in the drawer.”

He waves you off.

“Hell no! Haven’t gambled in years, no, this is a game of Never Have I Ever.”

You scoff, “A college game?”

Not that you’d ever played it when you were in college, you never had the balls.

“You scared, sugar?”

Straightening your back, you fold your arms and try to give your best poker face however hard you tried, Jack knows a bluff when he sees one.

“Look, I’ll start,” he says, plucking a shot glass from you. “Never have I ever…”

He pours himself a shot, already determining that he’ll drink to this one.

“Had a Statesman whiskey.”

You smile, sitting down and tucking your legs in to get comfy. Taking the bottle, you poured each of you a shot of the liquid nectar.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a cowboy.”

He grunts, “You’re missing out.”

He took his shot and you focused on how his throat rippled as he swallowed, your heart skipping a beat when he looked right at you.

Snatching the bottle away, he planned his next move. You’ve clearly decided to play this the correct way to avoid drinking, he had to think of his question carefully. He kept his eye on you, pouring the perfect measure without spilling a drop, you tipped your head slightly in a silent admiration.

In the spirit of the season, he thought of something.

“Never have I ever… dressed in a slutty costume.”

Your eyes narrowed, finger nails clicking on the glass before you sighed and threw the whiskey down your neck.

It was nice at first, there was a buttery almost sweet flavour before you mouth was completely dominated by intense spice and sharp citrus. Then came the burn, the inside of your throat protesting as you had to cough.

“You alright, pretty lady?”

God, how that made things worse.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked as you struggled on your words.

Jack allowed you to catch your breath before he leaned back, nonchalantly throwing an arm across the couch.

“So…”

You blink at him, tears in your eyes, as his smile broadens into a cheeky grin. This wasn’t going to be about what you thought of Statesman.

“What d’ya dress up as?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Oh, he would. Based on your previous ‘Never Have I Ever’, cowboy was obviously out and there was something in your overall personality that makes him believe it wouldn’t be a cheerleader. Some girls go for princesses, angels and devils, bunny girls except none of them seem very you, no, you weren’t like the other girls.

“Never ha—“

“Hey, it’s my turn!”

“Fine,” he huffs.

You clear your throat, “Never have I ever… not not been hit on by Tequila.”

Jack doesn’t drink, his one eyebrow arching.

“You’re not gonna drink?”

“Tequila hits on everyone.”

“Fuck,” you smack your hands on the table, “are you serious?”

“Christmas party, twenty-eighteen.”

“Remind me to ask you about that one.”

He hummed, the words you just said barely sinking in, all he could think about was his next turn.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a nurse.”

A smug smile grew on your face and you propped your elbows on the table, shaking your head as you rested your chin in your palms. His brown eyes changed, he looked like a wounded puppy, how could he have got it wrong?

“I know you’re not gonna stop until you get it so I might as well tell you.”

He straightened up, leaning towards the table in curiosity.

“I dressed as,” you paused. 

The shot of Statesman in your hand was more tempting now you were about to confess. Before applying for the job, you created new accounts online because you had no idea whether they’d search for you or not. Everything from your high school and college years still existed, under a pseudonym and attached to other email accounts.

Saying that, nothing would take that long for Ginger to hack.

You take a shot willingly.

“A sailor scout.”

His bottom lip fell slightly, his brows knotting further.

“Like a girl scout?”

You giggle, “No, from Sailor Moon, the anime.”

“You gonna have to give me some context.”

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you find a picture and turn the screen to him. He brings it closer, fingers flexing to zoom in on the image. As he continued to stare, he realised that maybe he really didn’t know that much about you.

“Which one were you?”

“Embarrassingly, I was the Sailor Moon, the one with the buns.”

“And the knee high boots?”

You break eye contact, feeling the temperature rise in your cheeks as you manage to make the smallest noise of agreement.

It’s not to say that Jack couldn’t imagine you in an incalculable amount of outfits but now, he was not going to be able to imagine you any other way. He didn’t even need to see a photo of you in it, he could happily make up his own.

The bow would barely cover your boobs, the white in the outfit would be mesh, the pleated skirt wouldn’t be able to contain your ass and those bright red boots would have to be platform.You could forget about the hair, he didn’t want it to be one hundred percent accurate, he just wanted you in it for him.

Yet he couldn’t tell you that.

“You still got it?”

A cushion hit him square in the face.

“I apologise.”

He holds his hands up though he can’t help noticing how tense your frame has become, how you can’t make eye contact and how your clearly starting to sweat. Taking your glass, he filled it back up again before sliding it over, taking his own in his other hand.

He jutted to you.

“Your turn.”

Time passed and the pair of you had possibly gotten through three quarters of a bottle, you couldn’t be sure. Your head was fuzzy, eyes struggling to stay in one place and the man opposite seemed as sober as when he walked in. Jack wasn’t sober, he knew he wasn’t, he had entered the giggling stage because grown men can no matter how much they deny it.

You had both learnt something new about the other.

If it wasn’t for his childhood sweetheart, he would have joined a travelling rodeo, to which you questioned if they were real. It wasn’t the first time you’d applied to join Statesman, you even tried applying for their distant cousin company Kingsman then you freaked out when they discussed you moving to England.

There were other stupid drunken conversations about remembering your first kisses, what actually was your tipple of choice and how you couldn’t ride a horse though he insisted he could teach you.

“I dunno,” your words come from gritted teeth.

“Who else is gonna teach you? Tequila?”

He knows Tequila won’t teach you right, the boy pretends to be a cowboy.

You laugh from deep in your belly, “Fuck no!”

He’s happy you’re in agreement.

“You’re probably the better teacher.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jack leaned back and stretched his broad shoulders, the buttons on his chest straining. Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip and suddenly, you realise you’re leering, you shake it off quite literally.

“You don’t remember the first day we met?”

He juts his chin, “It’s a little hazy.”

It’s not, he remembers it clear as day.

“I was so fucking terrified, I’d just watched the city disappear behind me and the car pulled into the estate miles away from the distillery. I stupidly wore heels to make a good first impression and the moment I stepped out, I regretted it…”

He was too polite to say anything back then.

“They told me Champ was in a meeting and that he would send one of his men to come meet me. I thought he was already planning on getting rid of me, like a hitman was gonna show, but then I heard the clomping of horse shoes in the distance and in comes this cowboy riding the biggest stallion…”

His lopsided grin brought the creases to the corner of his eyes.

“I heard there were stables on site, ready for when Statesman expanded but I didn’t believe it till then. They stopped right in front of me and I craned my neck up to look at them, the light just catching on the brim of their hat. In a Southern drawl, they asked me why such a pretty lady had decided to come all the way out here…”

He remembers how you laughed, how shyly you looked away from him when he asked.

“Before saying ‘The folks round here call me Whiskey but you can call me Jack’.”

And you always did.

“Christ, I sound like a tool,” he shakes his head.

“I dunno,” you shrug, “you left quite the impression on me.”

His eyebrows raised, “Really?”

The alcohol in your system aids a new found confidence.

“I’m surrounded by desk jockeys all day, it’s quite refreshing when you finally waltz into the office and whisk me away.”

Spending time with Jack was always like a daydream from a ridiculous smutty novel your grandma used to read, it wouldn’t surprise you if one day he sauntered in, scooped you from your ergonomic chair and take you even further from civilisation.

A girl can dream.

“I don’t do that.”

He tried to put you off his scent.

You laugh, “Yes, you do.”

Jack was beginning to sweat under his checked shirt collar, should I tell her? When he broke eye contact, you thought you were losing him and in your intoxicated mind, you couldn’t let that happen.

“Not that I mind, I quite like it when you do,” your voice dropped a few decibels, a wave of anxiety washing over you. “Actually, I love it when you do, in a way that makes me wish I’d read the fine print because I don’t know what the rule is about employees dating.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, his haziness making it difficult to figure out whether that was a confession. His lack of response sinks to the bottom of your stomach, it churns.

Your hands flex, your nervous system beginning to set into fight or flight mode as you bring yourself up from the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

The blood rushed to your head as you stand up straight and you sway before managing to get one foot in front of the other.

“Wait.”

A hand came to your wrist, holding you steady and you glance down to see him on his knees. Putting a free hand on the coffee table, he hauled himself up with a wobble.

“Are you sayin’ you like me?”

His fingertips graze over your pulse, it was picking up speed along with the rise and fall of your chest.

You don’t look at him when you deliver a timid nod.

He takes a step closer, the temperature rising between you. His thumb comes to the bottom of your chin, the rest of his hand picking up your jaw so you meet face to face. It pulls on his heartstrings to see your eyes turn glossy, tears ready to start falling.

You were waiting for the inevitable rejection.

“Please, sugar, I’d hate to see you cry.”

You immediately cover your face, of course his comment would make you cry.

He thought of the best way to fix this. Letting go of your wrist, he curled an arm across your lower back, pushing you into his frame. Squeezing his other arm from between your two bodies, he placed a warm palm to your back and rubbed soothingly.

“Now I feel like an idiot, I thought it was pretty damn obvious I liked you.”

Going back, it is fucking obvious.

From the moment you got here, Jack cured your home sickness, protected you from the likes of Tequila and had your back when decisions were made. There were so many times where the pair of you had snuck into the kitchen after hours and had the chef skim off a bowl of chilli for you to share.

You’d danced until 1am around the 4th of July bonfire and he covered your sick in sawdust when you bolted into the stables during the tour the next day. Hell, he even arrived at your door on Christmas Eve the first holiday you were here to see if you wanted company.

You splutter a mixture of a laugh and cry as everything became clearer.

“No, it’s my fault.”

You always missed the signs.

He holds you for as long as you need, until you wriggle, your arms wrapping around his frame. With your face still buried in his chest, you angle your head so you can look up at him and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes gaze down on you.

The heat rises in your chest and face.

“Will you stay?”

He only just hears your muffled query.

“Course I will.”

Looking round, the view of the mess you’d made was more apparent. There was circles from the glasses, spills here and there where you’d enthusiastically poured yourself another. He doesn’t even remember when the snacks came out, put they were spewed across the table, scraps on the cushions.

He tries to peel himself away from you but your fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands glide over your arms leading themselves to yours and as they enveloped them, the pair of your fingers intertwined. He prised you from him before bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to both sets of knuckles.

“You head up to bed, I’ll clear this up.”

The brightness in your smile returns, “How gentlemanly of you.”

“Well, manner maketh man.” 

He puffs out his chest as you giggle.

“Still can’t believe you almost chose merry old England over us.”

“Lucky for you, I much prefer here.”

You lift your head up enough for him to lean down and kiss you gently on the cheek. His sloping nose brushes the tip of yours, moustache tickling your upper lip, he waits for you to come to him. You kiss softly and quickly before leaning deeper into him, building the strength of your kiss.

“I’d like to do this all night but now’s not the time.”

Even with your confession, Jack didn’t want to take advantage, there was the possibility you’d wake up in the morning and regret the whole thing.

“Just one more.”

You say it so sweetly, how can he resist?

Once satisfied, you break away before scurrying off and up the stairs like you were some sort of naughty school girl. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he reaches for the glasses, corking up what’s left of the whiskey.

By the time he staggered upstairs himself, you were out cold, still fully dressed and bundled in the duvet.

He couldn’t do that himself, he had to rid himself of his tight jeans, tossing them to the chair in the corner. He unbuttoned his shirt another two as he picked up the corner of the covers, slipping carefully underneath.

You grunted but didn’t move an inch.

He repositioned himself, rolling onto his side. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, the features of your face becoming visible. You looked so peaceful, lips parted, your eyelashes casting the faintest of shadows. Stretching out a hand, he placed his palm on your cheeks, the heat from the alcohol in your system still there.

When he strokes his thumb right along the bone, you let out the softest sigh.

And he still thought you were the prettiest lady to step foot on the grounds of the Statesman distillery, even if you’ve only just tried their whiskey.