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#he’s resisting the urge to skip and click his heels together
webgottism · 2 months
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his ass was skedaddling
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What I Need
Summary: “And now this boy’s addicted ‘cause your kiss is the drug...”
WC: 500 [On. the. nose. BOOM.]
Warnings: mutual pining, fluffy feels, smidge of sexiness?
A/N: My prompt for @deanwanddamons​ Rock SPN Challenge was Bon Jovi’s “Bad Medicine.” Gif credit to original publisher.​ I’m SO SORRY this is a little late!! I had a whole draft written, but this new idea hit me today and I ran with it. Drabbles are hard lol. It turned out much different than I had planned, but I hope you enjoy it!
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Dean clenched his fists, blunt nails digging into his palms. His body was rigid with tension, and beads of sweat collected along his brow. He flexed his wrists, testing the restraints once more, but they didn’t budge. Squeezing his eyes closed, he took a deep breath, knowing he was on the verge of losing control. 
He swallowed when he felt her hands kneading his shoulders. Resisted the urge to give in when her fingers dipped beneath the collar of his shirt to caress his broad chest. Although she was planning to tease the truth out of him, he refused to give her the satisfaction.
“Say it.” 
“Bite me.”
“If you insist…”
Her warm breath sent chills across his skin as she playfully nipped his earlobe. He groaned and licked his lips involuntarily, realizing his body had already betrayed him. The click of her low heels echoed through the room and he held his breath, peering out of the corner of his eye until she sauntered into his line of sight. Dean’s will had been tested on many occasions, but he’d never felt more desperate or powerless than he did with Y/N straddling his lap. 
The bond he had shared with Amara paled in comparison to the spellbinding effect Y/N had on him. The “ghost sickness” that almost stopped his heart? Nothing compared to the way her smile could send his heart into a frenzy or make it skip a beat. She could take his breath away and leave him speechless, but somehow her presence also brought a sense of peace to his life he’d never experienced before. 
Maybe he was being dramatic—truthfully, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be the first to admit it, but he’d do just about anything she asked him to. 
He yearned for her soft whimpers and breathless moans, but his hunger ran deeper than ravenous lust. He craved her touch—the satisfying sting of her nails clawing his back when he hit that sweet spot, and the way she absentmindedly carded her fingers through his hair during a movie. He loved the way their tongues danced, teeth crashing together during a heated makeout session, just as much as he cherished each tender goodnight kiss. 
Dean had always considered himself a burden, poisonous to anyone he let himself get close to. But Y/N? She was the remedy he’d spent his whole life searching for. She gradually healed the guilt and self-loathing that plagued him, patiently showing him he was worthy of being loved. Eventually, that unconditional love she’d been pouring into him began to soothe even the deepest, darkest crevices of his mind and soul.
“Say it…” she murmured.
His apprehension faded, and he no longer wanted to drag out their battle of wills. He needed her in a way he couldn’t quite describe, but he promised himself he’d spend the rest of his life trying. 
Pressing his lips to hers, Dean breathed three small words he’d kept hidden for far too long.
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apiratewhopines · 3 years
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This one is a gift for @teamhook because she is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.
Thanks to @jrob64 for giving me advice on artwork and to ultraluckycatnd for reading over this chapter
Midnight
Chapter 1 — The Prince
Summary: In which our heroine meets cute
Chapter 1 of 7 on AO3
“But don’t forget folks,
That’s what you get folks
For makin’ whoopee”
-Makin’ Whoopee, Eddie Cantor
Emma Swan had been in some tight spots, but she’d never been in a run out of gas on a deserted highway with a dying cell phone battery and a stomach as empty as her bank account kind of situation before. In truth, she blamed this unfortunate situation on the same person she blamed all the misfortunes of her adulthood. Neal Cassidy.
There was a time a few short months ago she would have done anything for the man responsible for her current circumstances. Neal had been too good to be true. A real Prince Charming, down to the supposed trust fund and a smile that made her believe in happy endings.
She’d been a sucker. She heard one was born every minute, she just never thought her time would come. After all, one of the few things she learned in the foster system was how to spot bullshit from a mile away. But he looked at her with his soulful eyes and whispered promises in his smoky voice and she fell for it. More than once, actually, and all she had to show for the wasted years was a voicemail box full of collection calls and a wolf at the door.
Because Neal Cassidy didn’t just leave her. He stole her identity, maxed out her credit cards, and took out half a dozen loans in her name. Then he proceeded to use the money to wine and dine a wide assortment of women, the sheer number of which would make Casanova blush. All the while professing his undying love and spending his days eating all her food and watching television from his favorite seat on the couch.
Seriously, you could still see the faint outline of his backside on the cushion.
As countless victims of his schemes started showing up at her door looking for the man who made them feel alive while killing them one dollar at a time, she listened to tears and rants and misery with ill-disguised impatience. How had she become the counselor to the trail of broken girls he left in his wake? When was it going to be her turn to moan and groan and swear she’d never love again?
Well, she did get around to the swearing to never love again part. Some mistakes don’t bear repeating.
The final straw happened two months ago. Neal had disappeared after their final fight. His righteous indignation at being called on his crap and inability to find a plausible excuse for the stack of overdue bills and statements she found stuffed in the back of his gym bag made it difficult to share the same space. She wanted him gone even as her hands itched to touch him one more time.
Unfortunately, leaving her drowning in debt with the knowledge he cheated on her for the majority of their relationship wasn’t enough for him. He decided to do some collateral damage on his way out of town.
He did the unforgivable. He went after Granny.
His target was meant to wound her. While he lied and schemed the entire time they were together, she had been an open book for the first time in her life so he knew Granny was the sole connection she formed as a foster. Her brief stay with the woman before she aged out of the system was a time of peace and healing. Granny was responsible for helping her get on her feet and the two maintained a friendship years later.
Emma received the frantic call from Ruby explaining her grandmother had been tricked into giving Neal a blank check so he could do her grocery run. Hours later, she received a notification from her bank saying her checking account had been wiped out. At that point, the tenuous control Emma had on her emotions disappeared. She sat on the kitchen floor of the apartment she was about to lose, staring at empty walls that still echoed with his laughter in her weaker moments, and she broke into a million pieces.
So it was no wonder she vowed to have her vengeance. To do anything and everything to make him pay. Luckily, since he skipped out on a court date, catching him would also get her paid.
Tracking him had taken more time than she liked to admit. She was good; even penniless and running out of options, she recognized her worth and knew she possessed hard to find skill sets. But she had a sinking sensation that he might be better.
Now she was stranded on the side of the road with nothing except her most uncomfortable shoes to keep her company. But damn did they make her legs look good and with everything else in her life collapsing around her, somehow that seemed important.
Squaring her shoulders, she climbed out of the car and pondered her next course of action. She was unfamiliar with the state road connecting the two small towns on the Maine coast, so she had no idea what the odds were that a good samaritan would happen along. She had just enough juice in her battery and lettuce in her account to call for an Uber to take her to the seedy nightclub where Neal was last seen. Or she could walk the rest of the way in her mile-high heels knowing she never looked better, even though she would probably not be able to move the next day without a significant amount of pain.
What she would do if she found him or where she would stay if she didn’t weren’t questions she was ready to entertain.
Sighing, she pulled out her phone and with a huff of frustration opened her app. Pleading with whatever powers that be to let her last long enough to see herself through to the other side of this, she leaned against her beaten down yellow Bug and waited for the black sedan to show.
Of course, her phone died immediately after she booked her ride, finally giving up the ghost even though she didn’t get a chance to see the name or license plate of her hired car. Getting more anxious by the minute, she paced along the shoulder, careful to keep on the pavement since the ground was soft from recent rain. After what seemed like forever, but had probably not been more than half an hour, the headlights of a lone car crested a nearby hill.
“About time,” she muttered. To make sure the driver knew she was not pleased with the delay or the prodding pace he maintained despite the fact the sky seemed ready to open at any moment, she moved out into the middle of the lane and placed her hand on her hips. Pride kept her from squinting even though the bright high beams made her eyes water as the car approached.
Slowing from a crawl to a stop, the driver put the car in park and jumped out. It was dark and the man was dressed all in black, but as he moved around to the front of the car, she got the impression of blue eyes and a stubble-covered jaw that could probably cut glass. Great, just what she needed. A sexy Uber driver.
“Alright there, love?”
With a British accent. He probably smelled like bacon, too.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all night.”
Moving closer, he smiled with a hint of confusion. “Had I known you were waiting for me, I would have been along sooner. Tell me, do you always accost strange men in the dead of night on empty roads?”
“Only when I’m paying them to take me where I need to go,” she grumbled, walking toward the back door on the passenger side. She pulled it open as he protested, and glared at him over the top of the car.
“Love, I think there may be a bit of a mix-up—“
“It’s fine. I won’t give you a bad rating for being late as long as you don’t talk to me. I’ve been driving for hours to get here and I need to think.”
She heard him sigh and saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled at her again. “Very well. Would you like me to get your bags?”
“You’d have to go to a pawn shop in Boston to accomplish that,” she joked, dropping into the leather seat and noticing for the first time the expensive luxury of her rented carriage. She supposed if she was going to spend her last dime on a ride, she could have done far worse.
She resisted the urge to use the low ambient lighting of the dashboard to get a better look at her temporary chauffeur. The glimpse she got outside was more than enough to know she needed to keep her distance. It didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of his stare as he peeked over his shoulder while clicking on his seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw his tongue flicker slowly over his bottom lip before he turned his attention back to the road.
“Nice dress. Where are we heading this fine night, Miss…?”
“You’re really terrible at this. Is it your first time being a driver for hire?”
“What gave it away, love? It’s quite an unexpected development that came about just this evening. But you know what they say, you never forget your first.”
It was everything she could do not to laugh. She had a feeling it would only encourage him and if she was heading into battle, she needed her wits about her. “The Snakehole Lounge.”
“At the risk of sounding cliche, why would a nice girl like you want to go to a place like that?”
“I’m not a nice girl,” Emma informed him without a hint of irony or bravado. “And your rating is going down with each syllable out of your mouth.”
“Tough lass,” he murmured. “But do yourself a favor. Stay away from the Snake Juice.”
Little did he know that even if she wanted to have a drink, and boy did she ever, she used the last of her meager funds to get to this backwater place and she wasn’t sure where her next meal would come from. “I’ll do my best.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. She spent the time looking out the window at the trees flying by and trying to ignore how every time she looked away, her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror.
Honestly, it was probably a good thing they were the only people for miles around or he would have gotten them both killed.
Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of a shabby nightclub. Even the multitude of neon lights flashing “Girls! Girls! Girls!” and “Half-Price Beer Buckets” did little to enliven the dingy exterior. They didn’t bother with a bouncer, probably because no one actually wanted to get in.
Before she could say anything, her driver was out of the car and rounding his way to her door. She didn’t have a chance to object as he opened it and looked at her with avid curiosity. She had to admit she was impressed he didn’t give into it and ask any questions.
“Since we’re out of the car, am I allowed to speak again?”
Perhaps she had been too hasty in her internal praise. “Thanks for the ride. I hope your next passengers are more chatty since that’s what you’re into...overall, a solid three stars.”
“Three stars? I’d be surprised, but I had a feeling you were warming up to me between the baleful stares and eye-rolling.”
Gifting him with another of the said eye rolls, she adjusted the hem of her skirt to show a little more leg and walked away. She knew if she stayed a second longer she would give in to the almost magnetic pull of him and say something foolish like, ‘What’s your name?’
The inside of the establishment was every bit as horrible as the outside. The low lighting obscured the grime and wear that would be glaringly obvious otherwise. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the kind of place Neal would gravitate to since he was a dirty little rat.
Music heavy with bass pumped out a rhythm entirely too fast for the energy of the place. The few patrons who persevered this far into the night looked anemic as tired dancers did their best to act like they wanted to be there. Pulling her ID from the scrap of a bra she wore under her dress, she flashed it at the lone employee who manned the entrance and the bar. He gave it a cursory glance and turned back to his phone.
Snapping her fingers under his nose to get his attention, she pulled out a grainy photo of her quarry from the same location and asked, “Have you seen this man recently?”
“I’ve never seen anyone. Ever.” The man grumbled, not interested in the slightest. She wondered if he would stop her if she walked behind the counter and helped herself to a drink. She was leaning toward no and tempted to try.
“Tell you what buddy, take a good look at this picture. Then look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t seen him and we’ll end the night without any trouble.”
Something in her tone must have penetrated his disillusionment and he gazed at her with more interest than he’d probably shown anything in years. She waited as he glanced at the photo for a few seconds. “No, sorry. If he’s been here, it wasn’t during any of my shifts. Is he your husband or something?”
“He’s something alright,” she muttered. Defeated, she turned around without another word. She used the last of her resources to fund a wild goose chase, but at least it got her into town. Only thing left to do was find a park or quiet bench somewhere safe to sleep for a few hours and then she would tackle whatever came next. It wouldn’t be the first time she roughed it, although she had never attempted it in formal wear before.
Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, she immediately froze. Her three star driver was waiting at the curb as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she hadn’t given him the brush off.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yes, especially since I’m pretty sure our business is done,” she replied, walking past him and wishing the man could be a tiny bit less handsome. Now that the streetlights of the small town were there to illuminate their interactions, she couldn’t deny he was ridiculously attractive and exactly her type, complete with a black leather jacket and messy hair begging to be pulled. And, heaven help her, he was determined to extend their acquaintance apparently.
“It’s just good sense, love. I figured you’d be in need of transportation again, so why waste the gas to leave when I’d have to turn around after you called for your next ride.” He matched his stride to hers as she did her best to increase her pace.
Sighing, she stopped at the corner and looked at him. “Listen, I could tell you my phone is dead and I need to make a few more stops, that I’d pay you when you drop me off at my place at the end of the night, but it would be a lie. I’m chasing down a bounty. I need the money to pay for a ride and I need a ride to make the money. A smart man like you can see the problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
She turned away again but felt him leap into action behind her. He moved to cut off her escape and said, “Double or nothing.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Double or nothing, sweetheart. I take you to wherever you need to go tonight and when you collect your fee, you pay me double whatever the normal fare is for jaunts like these.”
“What if I don’t find him?”
“That’s where the nothing comes in, lass. A smart woman like you can see the benefit of such an arrangement.”
She studied him, hoping to find some ulterior motive in his seemingly selfless offer, but all she saw in his expression was an earnestness bordering on being painful and a thirst for adventure barely contained. Perhaps this was how he got his kicks in an isolated town. He propositioned strangers and gambled on fate. “No strings? No funny business?”
“This whole business is funny, but I’ll behave myself if you will. We’ll have much less satisfaction that way, but I’ll do my best to rally my spirits and overcome my disappointment.”
With a rueful shake of her head, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I guess we’re doing this. I’m Emma Swan.”
“Killian Jones, driver extraordinaire and captain of this fine vessel, at your service. Where’s our next stop?”
“I need to go to every seedy bar and filthy dive in the area so you tell me, Captain.”
She wasn’t sure what it said about her newfound companion that he was able to rattle off several places in a matter of seconds, but as the night stretched on and the miles racked up, she found she rather liked her tour guide. Which was probably a good thing since at this rate, she would be splitting the bounty fifty-fifty with him. Who knew the twin cities of Storybrooke and Misthaven had so many sleazy places to hang out?
“I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, Swan. Are you sure he’s in the area, because every traveler worth his salt makes a point to stop by Moe’s Tavern while visiting our fair city.”
“I can see why. The thrift-store ambience is delightful and the watered down drinks are to die for,” she murmured as she rested against the side of his car. She was tired and weak from hunger and as much as she wanted to curl up in the back seat and sleep, she was scared she’d get used to the comfort he was offering and do something she might regret later.
She was trying to figure out how to cut and run without seeming ungrateful when her stomach growled loudly.
In a playful tone belaying the concern in his eyes, he asked, “Was that your stomach? Bloody hell, am I in danger? Are you going to try to eat me to satisfy the beast within?”
Feeling a blush color her face, she avoided his gaze as she said, “Sorry, I...um, I skipped dinner.” And breakfast and lunch for that matter.
Taking up a position next to her, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell the truth, when was the last time you ate something, lass?”
“Hmm, what day is it again?”
“As I suspected. Come on, I know just the spot.” Pushing off from the car, he gently moved her and opened the door to the backseat.
She wanted to fight, to tell him she could take care of herself. She would have too, if she had any energy at all. Meeting his eyes for the first time, she joked, “You lost a gamble, Captain. That doesn’t mean you have to feed it.”
“I consider it an act of self-preservation. I figured you for a man-eater the first moment I laid eyes on you, but I’m afraid you might prove me right in unexpected ways if we don’t get some food in you soon.”
“As long as eyes are all you plan on laying on me, I accept your gracious offer,” she replied with a narrowed stare. Before Neal, she trusted her instincts. She would have insisted they were infallible, but he had shaken her confidence. She couldn’t risk being wrong about Killian Jones of the electric eyes and perpetual helpfulness.
“No strings. No funny business, Swan. Those are the rules. Get in, your chariot and dinner awaits.”
He stood a few feet from her, urging her into the car and she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it, but before she could change her mind, the words were out. “I’d rather ride in the front this time if that’s okay with you.”
His smile could have melted metal, tempted angels to fall, and inspired devils to repent. It was probably lack of rest and food causing her stomach to do flip flops. Or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.
“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have…” He closed the back door with a firm finality that echoed through the night and somehow felt momentous in the thick air of summer. When he opened the passenger door, the light seemed warmer and it bathed him in softness and shadows. He waited patiently as if he knew something had shifted between them and he didn’t want any sudden movements to break the odd spell.
Then her stomach growled again, angry at the promise of food being delayed while she gawked at the man who was determined to rescue her in every imaginable way.
“And dinner, of course.”
“Of course,” she whispered, taking care not to make contact with his body as she slid into the seat. She was glad the door was already closed when she left out a huff of air. Good thing she had sworn off love or she may be in some danger.
@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz
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avintagekiss24 · 4 years
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daddy’s girl > andy barber
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|| pairing: andy barber x black!reader
|| word count: 4,458
|| warnings: DD/lg, age play, smut, sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, praise kink, language words
|| note: this is based on @honeychicanawrites​ incredible headcanon about being andy’s little and having to deal with neal flirting with you while at work. i hope this is okay... this is my first DD/lg fic, so I’ve been obsessing over getting the details right.. which i hope i did...
gifs are from google. if you made them, or if you know who did, let me know :)
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You stand at the copier, biting down on your lip as you zone out while the loud machine runs. It beeps after a second of it being finished and you blink, grabbing your copies before you turn and sit your stack on the counter behind you. You grab the stapler and start separating the copied pages, stapling together a small packet before you move onto make a new one.
You jump and gasp when a hand slips up your skirt and drags along your thigh, “Andy, stop it.”
A broad chest is soon crushed to your back, two hands are around your middle, and two lips nip at your jaw before skimming upward to nibble on your earlobe, “I’m so glad you work with me, baby. I get to tease you all day.”
You click your teeth and roll your eyes playfully, pushing your back into him to try and get him to back away, “You want me to keep working for you, don’t you? We can’t get caught!”
“We won’t,” he whispers as his hands move up to cup your breasts, “Who’s gonna catch us?”
You turn to face him, your eyes wide, your mouth open as you try to speak but before you can, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hard and cups the back of your head with his large hand, pulling you closer (if that’s even possible). You moan, running your hands up his forearms and biceps until they rest on his shoulders. You accept his tongue into your mouth, letting it run along yours before he sucks on it softly. He pulls away from you, but not very far, just enough so that he can lick the inside of your mouth and your top lip.
“Tell daddy you like working with him.”
His voice is so deep, so firm, that it sends a shock right to your core. You feel yourself slipping into your little space at just the name tripping off of his tongue. Daddy. You love making your daddy happy, any time, and usually any place, but... You toss your eyes around and bite down into your lip, “Andy,” you whisper, starting to rock your foot back and forth to resist the urge.
“You’re right,” He groans, resting his forehead to yours, “You’re just so fucking cute.”
You giggle, throwing your arms around his neck, “Maybe we can take a long lunch,” you suggest, kissing his cheek, “You can buy me a happy meal.”
“Sounds like a deal, baby girl.” He chuckles, pulling you back in to kiss your forehead.
He starts to pull away, but you stop him, grabbing his wrist, “You can finger me now, though.” You shrug, “If you want.”
He raises his eyebrow as a smirk crosses his face, “Goddamn, I love you.” He says, slipping his hand around your waist. He pushes his large hand into your panties, his middle finger sliding between your lips to tease your slit.
You grip the lapels of his jacket and grip them in your hands as he forces your legs wider. He plays with you, flicking and rubbing his fingers over your clit until your dripping - which takes little, to no time at all. He teases your opening with his middle finger, then pushes three of his thick digits inside of you, making you squeal. 
“Fuck,” you squeak, “Andy.”
He pumps his fingers hard, his palm slamming against your clit as he fucks you up against the supplies counter. He starts to nibble on your neck again, teeth and lips nipping and biting, sucking and licking as you drop your head to his shoulder. He gets a firm grip around your waist with his free arm as he curls his fingers inside of you, massaging your insides with the tips of his fingers. 
You slam your eyes shut and bite down on his shoulder, his jacket still balled in your fists. You groan loudly, but Andy is quick to cover your mouth, “Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos into your ear, “Quiet, baby.”
He grabs your hair, pulling hard on the ends to tilt your head up towards his. He stares down at you, his warm breath washing over your face as his blue eyes pierce your brown ones. His tongue snakes out from behind his pink lips to lick your mouth, from your chin, all the way up to the tip of your nose slowly as he continues to pummel your tight, little pussy with his fingers. 
You let your head go limp, your eyes close as your body rocks with his fingers - that pull forming in the pit of your stomach. Your body tightens and you hear him growl under his breath, he knows your close.
“God, you are so good,” he groans, “Come on, baby.”
You whine, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you start to writhe as a warmth starts to spread through your veins and across your skin. Just a little more… a few more strokes and you’ll - 
“Andy? You in here?”
You jump at the male voice coming from outside the room. You both snap your heads towards the door, “Yeah, I uh, we’ll be out in a second. Trying to get some paperwork ready.”
“Lynn wants to see us.”
“Okay,” Andy answers quickly, anger flashing through him, “Give me a minute, will you Neal?”
“She sounds irritated.” Neal continues from outside.
“Goddamn it!” Andy hisses, pulling his fingers out of you, “Fuckin’ asshole.” He pulls your skirt down, smoothing his hands along your hips to situate your clothing. He kisses you quickly before stuffing his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean, “I’ll take care of you at lunch, promise.”
“Really?” You shriek, your eyes wide as they follow him to the door.
“It’s not me! It’s that fuckin’ prick -”
“Andy?” Neal knocks again.
“I’m coming! Jesus!”
Without another word, he pushes away from you and heads for the door. You spin around on your heels to face the wall and avoid Neal’s prying eyes as the door opens behind you. You staple some papers, trying to keep it together until the door closes again before you nearly collapse. You drop the stapler and rest your weight against the counter, dropping your head as you push out ragged breaths. Fucking Neal. 
You know he did it on purpose. Lynn was just fine before he walked into her office just mere minutes ago. He’s been sniffing around your desk for weeks, slipping in little come on’s and pick up lines into your conversations, all of which you have brushed off and politely declined. He’s starting to get more aggressive - buying you lunch, walking you to the elevator at the end of the day, actively butting into you and Andy’s conversations. Andy has definitely taken notice. Their feud has intensified ten-fold since you’ve started working there to the point where you can feel the contempt between them. 
Andy knows you’re all his. He knows there is nothing in this world that could ever tear you away from him - but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous. Your stomach starts to twist at the thought of how angry he’ll be for the rest of the day, not being able to make you come. He’ll be brimming with anger, but what’s more, frustration. He’ll keep his eyes on you all day, making mental notes on every time you laugh too hard at one of Neal’s jokes, or get a little too close for his liking.
You don’t want your daddy mad. 
You finish up with the packets, slowly, giving yourself some time to calm down and recalibrate before you push back out into the bullpen. You sit the stack of papers on his desk and start rearranging it slightly, putting various pens back into the small wire holder, straightening up file folders and loose papers, even grabbing a tissue to wipe away any excess dust on his computer monitor and keyboard before you exit. He likes order. That’ll make him feel better.  
Your mind races as you move back to your desk, your thighs sticking together from the wetness still splashed on them. You sit, shaking the mouse to bring your computer back to life and cross your legs, squeezing them together tightly, sending another quick jolt through you. Hell, you should be the angry one. You’re the one whose orgasm was ruined. You’ll have to deal with this aching burn between your legs for the rest of the day, unable to procure any sort of release until you’re home with daddy. 
If he isn’t too angry by then, that is.
Your stomach twists again. Lunch! That’s it, you’ll order his favorite lunch, that new little Japanese place. Then you two can go out to his car, drive around the block and have him obliterate your pussy while telling you how much he loves his baby girl in the backseat of that beautiful, expensive Audi. Yes. You grab your phone from your purse and scroll through your calls list, finding the number and tapping on it right when you see Andy, Neal, and Lynn emerge from her office. 
Andy’s face is flushed red as he runs his hand through his hair angrily. Neal looks equally as annoyed - his hands in his pockets as he sucks on his teeth. You swallow hard as Andy walks past your desk, not even making the smallest attempt at any eye contact. Fuck. You mumble his order into the phone once the cashier answers and hang up quickly, glancing over your shoulder at Andy’s open door. 
He’s slumped in his chair, his chin in his hand, his fingers crossed over his lips as he stares at his computer screen. You turn back to your computer and click on your IM’s, typing out a quick message.
We can skip the happy meal… I ordered lunch for you. That Japanese place you like.
Fine. 
Your shoulders slump a little at the short response. Usually, you’d get a little emoji, or a thank you baby, never just fine. He’s mad. Goddamn Neal. 
“Hey. I haven’t seen you all day.” Neal smiles as he moves towards your desk.
You take a breath and push it out through your nose before you swallow again, “I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah,” he says softly, tossing his eyes towards Andy’s office, “Barber keeps you plenty busy, huh?”
You nod, “He’s a busy man. He is the assistant district attorney after all.”
Neal cuts his eyes towards you once he registers your little dig. He smirks and sends his eyes towards the ceiling as he takes a breath. You uncross your legs and start tapping on your keyboard, hoping that he’ll catch the hint that you’re busy and leave you alone - but it backfires. You catch a whiff of yourself, your carnal scent from your still slick muscles, and cross your legs quickly again but it’s too late. You send your eyes to Neal as he squints his eyes and then quickly looks back down at you. 
His brown eyes bounce back and forth between yours as a slow, sly smile spreads on his lips. He then glances back towards Andy. You sit back in your chair when he sits on the corner of your desk , unable to wipe the smile off of his face. You feel a pair of eyes on you, burning a hole in the back of your head and your stomach flips again. 
Neal leans into you, sniffing the air, “That’s a wonderful scent,” he says loudly, as if he wants a certain someone to hear, “What is that?”
“Chanel no. 5.” You smile, not playing his little game. 
He nods slowly, humming slightly, “It’s nice.”
You blink back at him, squinting slightly as your eyes bounce between his, “Thank you.” You respond flatly, leaning back up in your seat to grab your mouse again.
You sneak a glance up at him, blinking as you catch him staring back into Andy’s office. You turn your head, swallowing again as you glance back at Andy. He stares at Neal, an angry smirk on his face as he leans back in his chair. He blinks and shifts his eyes to you - the smirk dropping from his face as he twists back and forth slowly in his chair. Your lips part as you stare back at him, begging him with your wide eyes to not be mad - but he just turns his head and blinks back at his computer screen. 
You turn back and face your computer. Fuck.
“Are you seeing anybody?”
Neal’s question makes your breath hitch in your throat. You feel those eyes on the back of your head again -  feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach, “N-no.” You answer softly, keeping your eyes firmly on your email. 
Nobody knows about the two of you - nobody. You both agreed it was better that way so you could work directly underneath him. If Lynn finds out, she’ll reassign you, if not fire you all together. 
“Really? A pretty little thing like you? Shit,” Neal smiles, glancing off in the distance, “Barber hasn’t tried to snap you up yet?”
You snap your head towards him, “Mr. Barber is a professional, and so am I, Mr. Logiudice.”
He throws his hands up, “I get it, I’m not implying that you aren’t. It’s just, you know, Andy has a type, that’s all.”
“What’s that?” You ask briskly, anger starting to bristle just underneath the surface. 
He shrugs, “Brunettes,” he smiles again, looking you up and down, “Why don’t you have dinner with me sometime?” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off, “You don’t work for me, there wouldn’t be any impropriety here.”
“I don’t think so, Neal. I’m just trying to focus on myself right now. Listen, Mr. Barber’s food is going to be here at any minute, so,” You stand, grabbing your purse, “I’m gonna go grab it.”
You move around the desk, tucking your clutch underneath your arm. Just as you pass by him, Neal reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you. You turn to face him and watch as he drags his hand down your arm slowly, his fingertips caressing your soft skin as they move, “Just give me a call, hm? You have my number.”
You blink back at him, your mouth hanging open as your eyes bounce between him. You glance quickly over your shoulder but turn back just as fast, not even wanting to see the look on Andy’s face. You pull out of Neal’s grasp and take a step away from him before you hear a door slam behind you. 
You turn, watching as Andy pushes past between you and Neal, brushing against him hard enough to make him stumble slightly, “What the fuck, Barber?” Neal growls.
“Mr. Barber?” You call, “Where are you-”
“I’m leaving for the day. Transfer my calls to my phone.” He doesn’t even turn around. 
“But, you’re lunch, it’ll be-”
“I’ll get something on the way home.”
He turns the corner and is out of sight within seconds. You stand there, completely dumb founded, staring at the space where he once was. Neal shoves his hands back into his pockets and stands tall behind you, “Somebody is touchy today.”
You scoff, “You’re such a jerk, Neal.” 
“I’m a jerk? What did I do?” he smiles, “I thought you said you were single.”
“I am.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Does he know that?”
You roll your eyes hard and scoff again, “Piss off, will you?”
“Oooh,” he chuckles, “Feisty.” 
You stomp away from him angrily, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You feel Neal’s eyes on you until you disappear. You pull out your phone as you move towards the large front doors, pushing out into the warm Boston day. You tap on Andy’s name and bring it to your face, biting down into your lip as it rings and rings and rings. 
You’ve reached Andy Barber. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.
“Andy,” you whisper, “Daddy, please answer the phone. Don’t be mad at me.”
You tap the end call button and immediately call back, still getting his voicemail. You call a third time. It rings twice and then goes to voicemail. You call again - it goes straight to voicemail. 
“Shit.” You whine, stomping your foot.
Tonight is not going to be fun.
----------
You pull into the driveway and park next to his Audi. Your stomach is in knots, you’ve been dreading this moment all day, but at the same time, you can’t wait to burst through the door and confess your love for him - get down on your knees if you have to. You just want him to know that no one could ever steal you away from him. 
You move into the house through the back door, closing it softly behind you as you walk into the kitchen, “Daddy, I’m home.” You call.
You don’t get an answer in return. You can hear the TV playing in the living room, Eddie Murphy’s distinctive laugh filling your ears. You sit your purse on the table and start pulling at the bottom of your blouse, wrapping it around your fingers as you start to make your way into the living room. As soon as you spot him on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth set in a hard line, his jaw tight, you drop your eyes to the floor and grab your fingers in your other hand, rubbing them hard. 
You roll your ankle, pushing your foot over onto the side, rocking it back and forth as you start to fidget uncontrollably. You ring your fingers in your hand, bite your bottom lip, and blink nervously as you stare at the floor. He finally turns towards you, his eyes hard, his lips tight as he plays with your favorite pink bows in his hand.
“Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”
You bound towards him quickly. You stop just long enough to unzip your shoes, tossing them to the floor before you sit squarely in his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s fuming, his face still red, his eyes dark, but he sweeps your straightened hair out of your face before he cups your cheeks, “He’s trying to take you away from me.” He whispers. 
“No daddy,” you say quickly, your voice higher pitched and innocent as you start to regress further, your words slurring slightly, “I’m all yours, he’s not gonna steal me away.”
“You have his number?” He asks, squinting up at you as he recalls the conversation from earlier.
“No!” You exclaim, shaking your head vehemently, “Check my phone daddy, it’s not in there.”
His blue eyes bounce between yours, “Are you lying to me?”
You start to pout, poking your bottom lip out as you furrow your brow, ��I don’t lie to daddy.”
“You better not. What does lying get you?”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “A disappointed daddy.” You hate disappointing him.
“And?” He presses further.
“No tweats for a whole day.”
He nods, taking a deep breath before he pushes it out of his nose. You play with the hem of his shirt, casting your eyes away from his and down to your fingers, “Please don’t be mad at me, daddy.” You say softly.
He clicks his teeth after a few seconds, “I’m not mad at you, baby. It’s that fucking asshole, Neal. He just fuckin’,” his words trail off as he sends his eyes towards the windows, his entire body tensing beneath you, “Daddy’s sorry, baby.”
“It’s otay,” You whisper, “He’s not gonna steal me away, daddy. Pwomise.” You reassure him, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him, “I’m all yours, forever and ever.”
“No he’s not,” he says softly, rubbing your back, “He can fuck right off. You are all mine, little one.”
“All yours,” you nod slowly, grabbing the collar of his shirt and twisting it around your finger, “I love you, daddy. You’re the best daddy a girl could have.” You whisper, your eyes cast towards his lips, your voice soft and small. 
He smiles softly at you, cupping your face in his large hands again, “And I love my baby. Turn around for daddy, hmm.”
You do as he says, turning in his lap to face the television. You bend your legs behind you, straddling him as he starts to play with your hair. You smile softly as you feel him slide his fingers against your scalp, pulling your hair into two separate sections. He starts to braid it slowly, a french braid that starts at your hairline. You wiggle your hips down onto his thigh, gripping his jeans in your hands. 
You start to roll your hips, grinding down onto his thigh as he finishes the one braid, tying off the bottom with your favorite pink bow. You bite down into your bottom lip again and let your eyes flutter shut as you grind against him, moaning and grunting softly as you start to cop a feel against your swollen, sore clit. 
He moves to the second section of hair as you let your head fall back on your neck , moaning loudly for the first time, “Look at you,” he says sweetly, twisting and turning his fingers as he braids your hair, “Such a good little girl. You gonna show me who you belong to? Is that it baby?”
You nod quickly as your hips quicken and you drag in a breath between your teeth. You ride his thigh quick and hard as he finishes the second braid. He skips his fingers up your back, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other slips around your side to grab your tits. You run your tongue over your teeth as you groan and reach up to grab his hand on your chest. He teases your nipple through your silk blouse, rolling it between his digits before he just rubs it with the pads of his fingers. 
He sits up, crushing his chest to your back as he kisses a trail from the back of your neck up to your ear and grabs it between his teeth. Your hips start to move faster, pushing down harder against his firm thigh as you rock back and forth. He drops his hands to your hips, helping to guide you as his fingers press into your flesh. You start to whimper, throwing your head back as you push yourself closer and closer to a sweet, long overdue release. 
“Ooh, daddy,” you pule, your eyes slammed shut as a fire burns in the pit of your stomach, “Daddy, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come so hard, daddy.”
“That’s right, baby girl,” he coos, his breath thick with lust and desire, “You come for Daddy like the good little girl you are.”
He pinches the inside of your thigh as you grind against his jeans, slowly applying pressure until your orgasm blooms through your tense body. You scream out into the room as the waves crash over you, each one stronger than the last. Your hips thrash against his thigh as your clit contracts hard - almost painfully so. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly laying on your back on the couch, your legs thrust open as Andy pushes your skirt up your hips. 
He fumbles with the button of his jeans, popping it quickly before he unzips himself and pulls his hard cock free. He slaps his dick against your sticky flesh before he slams into you as your orgasms still rumbles through you. He pumps into you hard, making you squeal as each thrust pushes you up the couch. You start to rub your clit with your fingers, quick circles as your hips jump uncontrollably up into his as your synapses continue to fire. 
Your daddy always fucks you so good when he’s angry - taking out all of the frustration with Neal on your perfect, pretty little pussy, “You are mine. This cunt is mine, you hear me?” He grunts. 
“Yes, daddy!” You mewl, “All yours. I’ll always be your little girl.”
“That’s right. All mine. My little girl.”
He inhales sharply, hissing and grunting as he continues to pound his hips into yours, your hot, wet muscles gripping his cock tight. You start to come again as you rub your clit in hard, fast circles, your pussy squeezing down on him. He grunts one last time and suddenly you're all warm inside as he starts to spill into you. His cock jumps as long, hot ribbons of his spunk coat your insides. 
He bucks into you with each spurt of his cock, until he’s milked dry and your second orgasm recedes back into the depths of you, “You are such a good little girl, baby,” he slurs, “Daddy’s best girl.”
He pulls you back up into his lap, staying buried deep inside of you, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You both pant loudly as you try and catch your breath - you close your eyes as you rub your face against the cotton of his t-shirt. 
He rubs your back with both of his large hands as he soothes you, “You did so well for me, baby. You make daddy so happy.” You smile into his chest, “You know you’re safe with daddy, right? I’ll never let anybody take you away from me.”
“I know. Daddy loves me.”
“Daddy does love you.”
You smile wide, sending your big eyes up to his, “And I love my daddy.”
He kisses the top of your head, “You want your blankie?”
You nod slowly. He pulls you off of him and situates you on the couch, jogging up the stairs quickly to grab your favorite things. Within minutes, you are back on his lap and in his arms, his cock snuggled deep within your pussy, your body wrapped up in your favorite pink blankie with your small brown teddy bear in your hands. He leans back into the couch as he holds you to him, still running his hands up and down your back as the two of you settle into Beverly Hills Cop playing before you.
“Thirty more minutes and it’s bath time, okay? I’ll give you a treat before bed, and read you a story.”
“Go’dfish and apple juice?” You ask, smiling up at him.
He kisses your lips one, two, three times before he bops your nose, “Anything for my baby girl.”
You nuzzle back into his chest and let out a deep, content sigh. Nobody can ever steal you away from your Daddy. Ever. 
1K notes · View notes
beauvibaby · 4 years
Text
The Feeling When...
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— • you meet Anthony Beauvillier at your job, and instantly click, but then he sets you up with his best friend, what could go wrong?
word count: 7.8k
a/n: I wrote this whole thing in less than 24 hours, I’m not sure how, but I really put my all into this and I’m proud of it, hopefully I can do it again sometime
The bell above the door chiming made you lift your head, smiling at the guy who just walked in. Basketball shorts and a tight fitting sports top covering his body, a small layer of sweat on his skin, one earbud in and the other hanging around his neck, his phone in his hand. He had yet to see you as you made your way to your spot behind the counter, politely excusing yourself from the lady you had been speaking with. You took in the way his blue eyes lit up when they landed on the muffin in the case, telling you he probably had yet to eat this morning, he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, finally stepping towards the counter as someone walked in behind him. “Good morning.” You spoke softly as he lifted his eyes to meet yours, you could swear his eyes widened slightly before settling into a warm smile. “Good morning.” He had the faintest bit of an accent, you made a mental note of that. You smiled in return, suddenly forgetting your words, “what can I get for you?” You inquired, watching his eyes dart between the muffin and you, he smiled when you laughed softly, grabbing a paper to put the muffin into a bag. “And a coffee, please.” He spoke, pulling his debit card out of his wallet while you whisked around to grab his coffee, a smile graced his face when you glanced back at him. He stepped aside so your coworker could help the next person in line, turning towards him, you took the few short steps, setting the to go cup down in front of him. You typed in his order, allowing the total to come up on the screen for him, “thank you,” he paused, picking up the bag, “Y/N.” He concluded, reading the name off your tag, lifting up the coffee cup. “You’re welcome.” You responded, trying not to seem like you were asking for his name, “Anthony.” He spoke, backing up slowly before turning on his heels, you watched with lingering eyes as he walked out the door.
***
Again, the familiar chime of the bells shook you from your head, except this time you weren’t working, you were huddled up in the corner laptop open in front of you. The internet in your apartment was out, and wouldn’t be fixed for a few days, so you had made the short walk to the cafe, you got an employee discount, and it was free wifi, so at least you had a couple of hours to ponder the internet, catching up on the latest facebook drama, reading gossip about celebrities, the usual. Your eyes landed on a much more put together version of Anthony, you had thought he looked good before, he looked even better now, the grey dress pants leading to the white button up shirt, it was a good look. You awkwardly shifted your gaze down when he started to look towards you. He moved up in the short line, you could feel his eyes landing on you every once in a while, you resisted the urge to look up and meet those blue eyes. When you no longer felt his eyes on you, you glanced up, hearing his voice over the small chatter in the building, he ordered the same as he had the other day. That warm smile on his face, a calm and cool demeanor radiating from him, welcoming even. The type that would have a girl head over heels for him. Surely, he had a girlfriend, the thought ran through your mind, which resulted in getting you caught staring.
The soft chuckle that fell from his lips made a flutter rush through your chest.
“Is this seat taken?” Anthony questioned, voice delicate as he glanced at where you not so gracefully had your feet propped up, you glanced around and saw many open seats, but who were you to turn down a perfectly attractive guy who wanted to sit with you. “Oh, no, go ahead.” You whispered, smiling up at him as you slid your feet off the chair, watching him rest his body against it. You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, silence overcoming the both of you as you stole glances at each other, completely oblivious to the other doing the same. You decided to bite the bullet and closed your laptop, making his eyes shoot up from the muffin he had been picking at, a closed lip smile on his face as you giggled under your breath. “So, Anthony was it?” You teased, feeling comfortable around him, despite him being a total stranger, because if we’re being honest, knowing his coffee order doesn’t make you acquaintances. “Last time I checked, that was my name.” He responded with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyes scanning over the sweater you had on, it was well worn, but looked nice with the v-neck cut into the front. “Mhm,” you hummed, hiding your smile with a sip of your own drink, “well, Anthony. What’s got you so dressed up?” You inquired, he glanced down at his clothes, like he had forgotten what he was even wearing. He shot a playful smile at you, breaking off a piece of the pastry in front of him. “What do you think?” He quipped, tossing the piece of food into his mouth, nearly missing and bouncing it off his chin, but he played it off.
“I would say a date, but I think you know better than to come talk to another girl when you have one waiting.” You mumbled, watching as he nearly choked on his food, a laugh tumbling from his lips. “No, there’s no girl, I just came from work.” The way he said there was no girl, it made your heart flip in your chest. Pushing it aside, you picked up your conversation, “work?” You hummed, looking to the ceiling in thought. “It’s the middle of the day, so if this was a lunch break, you’re clearly not working in the city.” You spoke, watching as he nodded in agreement, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You could be a manager somewhere, I guess.” You trailed off, peeking under the table at his shoes, they looked fairly expensive. “Not even close, Y/N.” He snickered, the ease of which he used your name, once again sending your heart into a skipping rhythm. You racked your brain for ideas, truly wanting to guess what it was that he did. For a brief moment, you wondered, could he possibly be in the limelight, but you pushed it aside, certainly you’d recognize someone as handsome as him.
“Well, this just isn’t fair, you know what I do,” you motioned to the room you were sat in, “but you’re just letting me humiliate myself with horrible guesses.” You laughed light heartedly, he shrugged his shoulders, sipping on his coffee, “hockey.” He mumbled, watching you cutely tilt your head to the side, confusion covering your features. God, what he would do to get to see you look at him like that all the time, a childlike quality in your demeanor that brought him peace. “Hockey, I play hockey.” He repeated, in a stronger voice this time. You nodded slowly, “oh.” You muttered, the realization hitting you, “oh, oh, you mean professionally?” You gasped, sitting up a little straighter at the sudden epiphany. Anthony nodded, eyes crinkling slightly when he laughed at how panicked you must have looked. “Long Island, oh my god, you play for the Islanders.” You spoke sheepishly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks. “Yeah, I do.” He responded, glancing at his phone as it lit up, he quickly shut the screen down again. “Have you ever been to a game?” He inquired, the way his voice raised slightly caught your attention. “No, I haven’t.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater again.
“You should come, I can get you tickets-unless, uh you have a boyfriend.” He spoke awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “I don’t.” You answered, watching his eyes widen, his lips seeming to move before his brain could catch up with what he was saying. “Oh, great, I have a friend, Mat. I think you two would really hit it off.” He spoke, hiding the way he wanted to curse himself for spitting those words out. You hid the disappointment on your face, “oh, that’s really nice, Anthony-” “Tito, call me Tito, please.” He cut you off, before motioning to continue. “Ok, Tito. That’s sweet but I don’t think that’s a great idea, I hardly know you, let alone this Mat person.” You sighed softly, expecting him to just give in at your words, but you’d come to find out really quickly that he was stubborn. “Please, it’s the least I could do for taking up your time.” He assured you, looking away as you chewed your lip in thought. Worse comes to worse, you’re getting a free ticket to the game, what’s the worst that could happen? “If you insist.” You gave in, he had to hide his excitement, since he blew his chance by mentioning Mat. “Can I have your number?” He questioned, and you shot your eyebrows up, letting out a surprised, “what?” Before you could stop yourself. Tito smiled at your reaction, “so I can keep in touch about the ticket.” He assured you, he made an observation of the way you let out a soft “oh”, something you did quite often when you were caught off guard. “Right, yeah, of course.” You rattled off, holding your hand out for his phone, hating the way you could feel the heat rushing to your face. He handed you the device, open on a new contact, you typed in your name, and number quickly before handing it back to him. You watched him quickly add something before saving it. “I’ll text you? To find out when you can come.” He spoke, sliding out of the seat, only then did you realize how long you had been talking to each other. “Yeah, that works.” You murmured, “Bye, Tito.” You added as he headed towards the door, “bye, Y/N.”
A text from Tito came a lot sooner than you had expected, that same night he shot you a message.
“Hey, It’s Anthony”
You smiled at the screen, before reminding yourself he was setting you up with his friend and not with himself.
“I was told to call you Tito”
“Sorry, let me start again - Hey, it’s Tito. Is that better for you?”
“It’ll have to do, I guess, but I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”
You watched the reaction pop up on your phone, him sending a haha to it before the dots came up showing he was typing.
“So, there’s a game coming up next weekend, Saturday, if you’re free…”
“That works!”
You thought maybe it came off too excited, when he read it but didn’t respond. Then your phone lit up with a text,
“Great, Mat is very excited.”
A sigh fell from your lips as you typed a robotic response,
“I am too!”
And that was that.
****
Saturday came before you knew it, the whole ride to the arena you were nervously chewing your lip, rubbing your sweaty palms on your jean clad legs. You had done some googling, and watching how they could get slammed into the boards had your skin crawling, how anyone could get enjoyment out of that was beyond you.
Once you arrived, you had hoped your nervousness would die down, but it only grew as you walked to your seat, close to the glass, and became surrounded by people in Islanders gear. You made it to your spot, and sighed in relief, at least you were there and you could try to enjoy the game, keyword being try.
The second the guys skated so effortlessly onto the ice, your nerves shot back up, searching for the only two jersey numbers you cared to memorize, eighteen and thirteen. Of course they skated alongside each other, stopping in front of your section, you waved sheepishly, watching them both grin. “Hi” you mouthed, unable to stop the blush rising to your face when Mat waved back. You couldn’t deny, he was attractive, but your mind kept bouncing back to Tito. The way he caught your attention so effortlessly, you watched as they spoke to each other as they turned to truly begin their warm ups, Tito glancing back at you with this look you couldn’t fully decipher, before shaking his head at his friend, your mind wandered with what it was they had spoken about. Surely it couldn’t be about you, what was there to say? Especially to cause Tito to look at you the way he did, almost in a concerning manner. There was a tap to the glass in front of you, Mat holding a puck for you, he motioned for you to stand and you did, easily catching it as he tossed it over to you. A smile on your face as you saw he had signed it with a silver marker,
“Hi - Mat Barzal”
You shook your head with a laugh as he grinned boyishly at you, the enthusiasm he showed encouraged you to be more open minded to this set up, it’s not very often that someone would end up in the situation you found yourself in. “Thank you” you mouthed, feeling the eyes of girls around you, suddenly realizing you’d need to develop thick skin to be around these boys.
The game flew by and before you knew it you were being pulled to the side by some big burly guy, with a security badge, and you began to panic. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He questioned trailing off, and you nodded, “Mr. Barzal asked me to catch you before you left, he wants to bring you down to see him.” He spoke lightly in contrast to his gruff looks. “Oh.” You whispered, “oh, yeah ok.” You came to your senses, awkwardly following the man, feeling eyes following you as he directed you down a hallway and out a large door. “I-uh-can I ask you something,” You paused waiting for his name, “Jeffrey.” He spoke, his voice still shocking you in comparison to his large build and thick beard. “Can I ask you something, Jeffrey?” You completed your earlier question. “Sure, why not.” He humored you, his face aging for a moment when he smiled and his skin crinkled together. “Does Mat do this often? Bring girls down here after games I mean.” You couldn’t help but ask, some minor worries overtaking your conscience. Jeffrey stayed quiet, giving you a sideways glance. “A lot is a stretch, I’d say sometimes.” He finally chose his words, carefully tiptoeing around the subject, not wanting to put himself in a compromising position. You nodded, deciding against saying anything as the elevator slowed to a stop, the doors opened and Jeffrey stepped out, pointing to a row of chairs down the hall. “Wait there, he should be out soon.” He spoke, walking off like he hadn’t just left a complete stranger outside of the locker room, where anyone could find them.
It felt like an eternity, but in actuality it was only ten minutes until Mat walked out, dressed in his pregame suit, hair combed back after his shower. “Y/N.” He smiled, and you shot to your feet, “Hi.” You smiled, allowing him to give you a short hug, but your mind slipped into thinking what it would feel like to be hugging Tito in this moment. “How’d you like the game?” He asked, the two of you slowly walking down the hall, your heeled ankle boots clicking on the cement. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you followed him. “It was good! I’d never seen one before.” You answered cheerily, keeping pace with him, he smiled down at you. “Really?” He gasped, faking offence, a hand resting over his heart. “Yes, really.” You laughed softly, feeling his eyes scan you over. You didn’t want to admit that you could tell the sparks weren’t really there, for either of you, as far as you could tell. He was kind, definitely, and attractive, but he seemed more like a friend, or a brother if you will, and that isn’t how any girl wants to feel when they’re on a date. “Did you want to go grab something to eat?” He offered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You nodded, deciding to still humor the scenario, “sure.” You gave him your signature smile. He mirrored it, and you could tell you were both being polite, but it was still a nice night. He was a gentleman, of course, paying for your food despite your protests, offering to drive you home, but caving when you insisted on taking an Uber home was fine.
While you were waiting for your car, Mat stayed beside you, his phone chiming with a text from Tito, which he instantly showed you, and the two of you laughed softly.
“Double date, with me and Kylie?”
“Who’s Kylie?” You asked Mat, after hesitantly agreeing, it would be fun, at least, since you got along well with Mat. “Some girl, I don’t know why he even talks to her, she just wants to hook up but get the perks of nice dates.” Mat scoffed, and you had to hide a laugh. “It is pretty funny.” He commented, causing you both to start laughing hysterically on the side of the street. “I’m glad we agree on that.” You giggled, catching Mat smiling at you.
Maybe, had you not known his best friend, you would kiss him in that moment.
“I’ll text you, to set up this sure to be weird double date.” He spoke, as the Uber pulled up to the curb. “Alright, thanks for tonight, it was fun.” You told him, and he could tell in that moment that you both were on the same page, he thought you were beautiful, and kind, and funny, but he didn’t have that chemistry that he could see between you and Anthony. His mind wandered to the question he asked on the ice,
“Are you sure you aren’t interested in her, you look at her in that way.” Mat sighed, skating beside Tito in warmups, he watched his friend glance back at you in your seat, a pink tint on your cheeks from the earlier interaction. “No, I’m sure, you two would hit it off.” Tito sighed softly shaking his head, pushing his thoughts aside, he had royally screwed up, and there was no way he could fix it himself.
Mat came to his senses when you leaned up and gave him a quick kiss to his cheek, “goodnight, Mat.” You mumbled, slipping into the car, “goodnight.” He replied, shutting the door for you.
****
You smiled as you opened your apartment door, Anthony smiling widely from the other side, “I brought cheetos.” He sang teasingly, for a moment you truly wanted to wrap him in a hug, relieved to see him. “You’re the best.” You sighed, snatching the bag from him, it’s been a couple of weeks since your date with Mat, you’ve kept in touch, but haven’t really seen each other since then, he came into your job a couple times, but that's all. You and Tito have been spending a lot of time together, whenever your schedules allowed, and for a while you had thought maybe this double date wasn’t going to happen, but then of course as he stepped into your apartment—like he had grown accustomed too. “So, I don’t know if Mat asked you yet, but I was thinking Friday night for that double date.” He spoke casually, missing the way your whole body tensed at his words. “Uh, yeah that works.” You answered softly, disguising your sadness by offering him a cheeto from the bag he so graciously brought you. “I bought you a whole bag, and I only get one? Must have been a really bad day.” He teased, you nodded silently, “indeed it was, Beau.” You plopped yourself down on your couch, him following suit like the two of you had begun to do, him on the other end of your couch as you laid, feet beside him. He listened intently as you two catched up on things from the past few days, anyone looking in would assume the two of you were together, if not, close to it, but you two told yourselves that it was nothing. You were being friendly, that's all, friends do this all the time, right? Besides, he did set you up with his friend after all.
***
“You look beautiful.” Mat complimented as you opened the door, he was picking you up for the double date, you had your hair curled lightly, letting it fall behind your shoulders, it was early spring, so there was still a light chill in the air, especially at night. So you had opted for a red sweater dress, throwing a lightweight jean jacket over top. “Thank you.” You smiled, smoothing out the material, “let me just grab my bag.” You held up a finger, rushing quickly to grab it off the counter. “Ready?” He smiled when you came back. “Yeah, I think so.” You made sure you had your keys and phone in the bag before locking the door on your way out.
“This should be interesting.” Mat sighed as he pulled up to the valet, Anthony and this Kylie girl, standing on the curb, you shivered at the sight of her. A barely there dress covering her skin, pin straight bleached hair hanging over her shoulders, and way to dramatic makeup covering her face. “Oh.” You let out softly, laughing at the sight of them, Tito looked way to put together to be beside her, “I agree.” Mat sighed, putting the car in park, climbing out as you followed suit, once again smoothing out the material covering your skin. “Hey guys.” Anthony grinned, all but pulling Kylie along to greet you both. You gave him a quick hug, smiling and waving politely at Kylie, who barely repeated the actions, but you could tell her eyes lingered on Mat’s body a bit longer than it should have. Mat and Anthony made small talk as you were led to the table in the restaurant, leaving you and Kylie in awkward silence. She gave you an odd glance when Mat pulled out your chair, you brushed it off, telling yourself there is no way that this was Tito’s type. “How have you been?” You asked, trying to break the silence as you all looked over the menu. “Good.” Anthony spoke, Mat agreeing as he smiled softly at you.
It continued awkwardly, everyone loosened up after the food arrived, and the wine kept coming. You all quickly learned that Kylie was a lightweight, and a flirty drunk. You grimaced as she ran her hand up the back of Tito’s neck, he shifted slightly, almost as if her touch made him uncomfortable. “So, dessert?” Mat piped up, clearing his throat when he jumped in his spot slightly, “you ok?” You questioned sweetly, he leaned over and whispered in your ear. “She just slid her foot up my leg.” He stayed there for a moment as you processed his words, you stifled back a laugh, hand covering your mouth. Tito raised a brow as the two of you pulled away from each other laughing. “Nothing.” Mat brushed him off, “so Kylie, how long have you and Tito known each other?” You asked, glancing up from the dessert menu that you and Mat were looking over. “Who?” She questioned, looking away from Anthony, eyes hazed over, he held in a sigh. “Anthony.” You trailed off, looking between the two like they were insane. “Oh,” she laughed, hand running down his arm, “a couple months.” She spoke, as if he was the light of her world, where we all could tell she wanted to hook up and get on her way. You nodded, leaning closer to Mat as you let a tiny yawn slip, it was more of a reaction thing, after tonight, you and Mat had mutually decided you would stop trying to pursue anything romantic. He slipped an arm over your shoulder, Anthony’s jaw clenched at the sight for a moment, something Mat definitely noticed. You didn’t as you turned to mutter to Mat about the cheesecake, he nodded in agreement, you shut the menu and placed it by the edge of the table.
“OH! Alright,” Mat slid his chair back abruptly, glaring at Kylie, “that’s enough.” He demanded, and you had to hide your laugh by sipping on your wine, Anthony looked between the two with confused eyes. “What’s going on?” Anthony questioned, you all but choked on your wine as Mat shrunk into his seat. “Shall I?” You teased when Mat stayed silent, he nodded, running a hand over his face as he calmed his blush down. “Your date has been attempting to play footsie with him all night.” You spoke with a straight face, Tito just stared at you, like you were joking. He broke out into laughter, taking you both off guard, Kylie huffed dramatically, standing up, “I’m leaving.” She snapped, the three of you looked at each other and began laughing together. “Goodnight, Kylie.” You called, nearly snorting when she gave you a hair flip, you turned to Mat, hiding your red from laughter face in his neck, again making you miss the way Anthony’s face faltered, although, Mat noticed it and shot his friend and apologetic look. “I think I’m going to call it a night.” Anthony announced and you all but shot up in your seat. “Are you sure?” You questioned solemnly, the alcohol in your veins slowing your reflexes, letting the words slip from your mouth before you could stop it. “Yeah.” He muttered flagging down the waiter so he could pay his part of the check, you glanced at Mat who had an unreadable expression on his face. “Have a good night, Tito.” You spoke when he stood after paying his part. “You too.” He answered shortly, taking you off guard, you sunk into your seat, reaching for your wine glass as you watched him walk away. “And we’re not gonna do that.” Mat took the glass from you, shaking his head when you gave him a pleading look.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people in this much denial.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, pulling his card out for dinner, you stopped him, putting your own down instead, he didn’t fight you, not wanting to push you tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed, crossing your arms, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh please.” Mat groaned, “I could tell from the second you came to the game, he kept looking for you every chance he got, and the way you light up around him.” He trailed off, and you felt guilty, “Mat, I didn’t mean to lead you on, I wasn’t–“ “it’s ok, I knew it from the beginning, but I figured I’d give it a shot anyways.” He cut you off, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “you two have to figure it out, I’ve never seen him like this before.” Mat explained easily, standing once you got your card back and put it away. “Let’s just get you home.” He laughed under his breath when you shakily stood up, a mix of the alcohol and being seated for so long.
****
“Be right with you!” You called from around the wall, not bothering to look towards the front counter as you lugged the oversized bag of coffee grounds towards the front of the store. You huffed as you rounded the corner, nearly dropping the bag on your feet when you spotted Anthony and Mat standing there. “Oh.” You whispered, setting the bag on the counter, “hey.” You muttered, eyes bouncing between the two. “Hi.” Anthony mumbled, awkwardly shifting on his feet, Mat stayed silent watching the silent exchanges you were sharing. “I saw you moved on from Kylie.” You couldn’t help but speak, Mat nearly died trying to hide his shocked laughter, covering it up with a cough as he turned away. You held in a sigh when Tito only nodded, “yeah, I did.” He decided to speak, not sounding like a guy who was interested in her. You’d seen pictures online of him with this girl, not much better than Kylie, which quite honestly disgusted you. How a guy like him would go for a girl who clearly didn’t want anything real. Pushing those thoughts aside, you grabbed their usual orders, Anthony paid for both, and left a nice tip in the jar for you, which made you feel cheap, you knew he was simply apologizing in his own odd way. You pulled the money out of the jar and gave it back to him, he was astonished. He opened and closed his mouth looking for words, “Anthony, I really have to get back to work.” You sighed, looking to Mat for assistance, he shrugged, sipping on his coffee in amusement. “We’re going out to this bar tonight with some of the other guys, some of their wives will be there… if you want to come?” Mat offered.
Why you said yes was beyond your comprehension.
“I’ll be there.”
And there you were, owning your appearance, figuring, if you had to spend the night with the man you were so clearly falling for, and his best friend, you might as well get some attention from someone who wouldn’t deny their feelings.
The skinny jeans hugged your legs just right, giving your butt just a little boost, that paired with your white lace, off the shoulder top, made you look perfectly tan even this horrible bar lighting. You added a simple pair of strappy black heels, holding your clutch in one hand, hair laying curled behind your shoulders. And, of course, we can’t forget the bright red lipstick that—unknowing to you—was going to drive Anthony absolutely crazy all night.
“Y/N! You’re here!” Mat cheered, clearly a couple beers deep already, you laughed at his excitement, making your way over to him, you gave him a quick hug, his presence welcoming, you quickly came to learn that you could tell Mat anything and he would do his best to help you, he cared about you, even more so because his friend was falling for you, and falling hard. “Hi.” You waved to the two ladies, Sydney and Grace, you found out quickly, that they would also be shocked at Anthony and yours interesting connection. “Hey!” They greeted cheerily, all but whisking you off to their table, leaving the boys to be their slightly rowdy selves. “So, you and Tito.” Sydney wiggled her eyebrows, a smirk falling onto her face. You sighed, but you felt comfortable with them, so you started spilling everything.
From the moment you met, to the feeling when he walks into your apartment, the way your heart always skips a beat at the sight of him expertly making his way around. How his eyes still lit up every time you said you saved him a muffin from work, how he knew that after a long day, you didn’t want ice cream or chocolate, you wanted Cheetos. How you could feel him stealing glances at you right now, all the way up to how you’re beginning to think you’re falling in love with him after only two short months of knowing him.
“Oh my god!” Grace gasped, hands going to her heart, “that’s so sweet, Y/N.” She added, looking to Sydney who was sniffling, “hormones!” She defended, referring to her baby born a few months earlier. You chuckled at their reactions, suddenly searching the bar for Tito. You had been speaking for a while, and you knew how guys could be around each other, so when you saw Mat desperately searching for you, you couldn’t help but shoot to your feet. You excused yourself and weaved your way through the over crowded bar, appearing by his side in record time. “He’s hammered.” He whispered into your ear, chuckling when he himself almost tipped over. You caught Tito’s gaze, and instantly you could tell he was angry, about something, what it was, that you didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit. “Wow there buddy.” You lightly pushed Mat into the barstool, “can he get a water, please?” You called to the bartender, he shot you a smile, you directed Mat to stay in the chair and drink the water when it came. “Yes mom.” He grumbled, lazily smiling, you sighed and made your way towards a spaced out, angry Anthony.
“Tito?” You spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes focusing on you, he stepped out of your gentle hold, knuckles white on the handle of the beer glass. “What, Y/N?” He snapped, you hadn’t pegged him as an angry drunk, but maybe you were wrong. “Don’t give me an attitude!” You snapped right back, he was taken back by your force, nodding slowly. “I’m coming over here to check on you, what’s got you in a mood?” You asked, shocked when he ignored you and motioned for another beer, which the bartender hesitantly gave him, shooting you a look that said he was about to be cut off. You sighed, a little too loudly as Anthony picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, he shot you a look. “What is it now?” He retorted, completely ignoring your earlier question, again. “I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes for effect, “as if you would know, you’ve stayed away from me all night!” He muttered with a venomous tone. You’d only had a couple of drinks, so your mind was still fairly clear, but your emotions bubbled to the surface before you could stop them. Your eyes burned, you could feel the water reaching the brim, “I stayed away from you because I was letting you have fun with your friends, you didn’t come to me either, Anthony.” His eyes trained on your cherry red lips as you spoke, but he shook himself from the thoughts of kissing you as you spoke his true name with force. He met your gaze, and his anger faltered, but he was too far gone in alcohol to realize what he should be doing, he should be apologizing, he should already be your boyfriend, he should be telling you he loves you, but of course—that’s not what he did.
He chose to be silent, again.
“Right, nothing to say.” You whispered, and he didn’t miss how your voice broke, you shook your head looking to the ceiling, silently cursing yourself for being so dumb, for thinking he would ever be more than just a friend to you. “I’m going home, Anthony,” this time his name was like a faint whisper falling from your lips, “do you need me to call you an Uber?” You had to ask, you’d hate yourself if he didn’t get home safely. He shook his head, to full of his own drunk ego to do anything else. He watched as you went to say goodbye to Mat, patting him on the shoulder, silently thanking him for inviting you, he watched you wave to the other guys of the group, who had all welcomed you with open arms—you fit right in. Lastly, he watched you say goodbye to the ladies, who kept glancing over at him, muttering words to you that he couldn’t decipher in his hazy vision. Then, just like that, you were gone.
You had to have only been home for an hour, nearly asleep in your bed when you heard a knock on your door, your eyes shot to the time, 1:14am flashing back at you. Hesitantly, you stood to your feet, pulling a sweater on over your pajamas, hugging it tightly to your chest as you walked. You flicked the lights on, holding your phone in your hand as well, just in case. The knocking came again, with a heavy hand, which if we’re being honest, made your heart rate pick up, unsure of who was on the other side. You made it to the door and your breathing stopped for a moment when you looked through the peephole, Anthony standing there with a red face and wobbling stance. “Y/N, I don’t know if you’re there.” He slurred, “I need to talk to you.” He continued, getting cut off by a hiccup, you couldn’t let him go on in this state. You swung the door open, watching as his eyes widened, bloodshot, making them look even more blue. “Tito.” You sighed, helping him inside, his legs shaky as he walked. “I thought you would’ve been home by now.” You added, gasping when he nearly fell over, you held onto him tighter, getting him to your couch just in time for him to fall down. You rushed over to the front door, shutting and locking it before returning to him, you squatted in front of him, to meet his eyes. “I’m an idiot.” He whispered, almost as if he forgot it was you he was talking to. “No you’re not.” You murmured, resting a hand on his knee, his eyes landed on it, before moving to your face, slightly puffy eyes, making his heart wrench in his chest, he made you cry. He flickered his gaze to your lips, they were swollen and pink from you scrubbing the lipstick off, the whole time you had been doing that, you thought what an idiot you were for thinking it would pull him in.
“I am.” He said again, nodding as he blinked slowly, the effects of the alcohol kicking in. He was about to speak but you stopped him. “Anthony,” there it was again, the disappointment in your voice as you spoke, you might as well have stabbed him in the heart, “whatever you want to say, I think it should wait until tomorrow when you’re sober.” You explained, carefully pushing his jacket off his body, he watched in awe of your warm nature as you slipped off his shoes. “You can stay here, I’ll go get a pillow.” You whispered, to which he didn’t respond, the second you were gone, he laid on his stomach, one arm hanging off the couch as the tiredness overcame him. His eyes burned with drunken emotion, but he hadn’t realized as he knocked out in your living room that a single drop fell, staying in a pool under his eye. You rounded the corner, stopping in your tracks at the sight of him spread out on your couch, his soft snores filling the otherwise silent space. You made your way over to him, setting the pillow down on the side table, taking the blanket from the corner and moving to drape it over his back lightly. You tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and a couple of Advil, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him, as you were placing them down you looked over and caught the single spot of wetness under his eye, now feeling like someone had stabbed you in the heart. You gently reach over, wiping it off with your thumb, sighing when he smiled softly in his sleep. Bending down, you left a light kiss to his cheek, “goodnight, Tito.”
***
Morning came much sooner than you’d like, after spending the whole night tossing and turning, crying once again, overwhelmed by the not knowing of what he wanted to tell you last night.
You woke when you heard a soft crash in the kitchen, “shit.” Tito whispered, you could tell he was trying to get a pan out, but you had them stacked in such a way that it was impossible to not make noise. You stayed silent in your bed, as if he could see through the wall. You listened as he muttered to himself, words you couldn’t quite decipher, the fridge opened and closed, the sound of your coffee pot being turned on. His feet made their way down the hall, you could tell he stopped outside your door, unsure of what to do, he decided against waking you, and you heard him step into the bathroom instead. A sigh fell from your lips as you climbed out of bed, you were still in your pajamas from last night, and the sweater still hanging over your frame, you decided that was good enough. You brushed out your hair and tied it up sloppily, a messy bun with your leftover curls. You caught a glance in your mirror, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time already, your eyes puffy, cheeks pink. Oh well, you thought as you stepped out into the hall, at the same time as Tito. “I didn’t wake you did I?” Was what he decided on, you shook your head staying silent, making your way into the bathroom, “oh.” He let out softly, a habit of yours he had picked up on, something he had started doing himself.
He was back in the kitchen when you came out, standing in front of the stove, flipping over the eggs in the pan, you slid past him to get to the coffee pot. “How’s your head?” You asked, the silence, for once with him, being awkward. “Not too bad.” He answered, smiling softly at you, you returned the gesture as you poured some creamer into your cup. The silence came back, neither of you speaking as he continued cooking, you pulled out some bread and made toast, trying to calm your mind as you thought of how you wanted to do this with him all the time. Something so domestic as cooking breakfast, but it was just the two of you, it was nice.
You placed two plates beside him, both with toast on them, he slid the eggs equally onto the dishes, staying silent as he slid the pan off the burner to cool off. “Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the plate and going to the small table you had, he only hummed in response, sitting adjacent to you. It stayed silent, the only noise being your forks hitting the plate, or coffee cups being set down.
When you finished, you stood, taking the plates, he didn’t protest as he looked lost in thought. Your mind raced as you turned the water on, squeezing dish soap onto the sponge. Was he ever going to say what he came here for? Could it possibly be what you thought it was? Certainly if it was that, he would’ve said it by now.
You hadn’t realized you had let the tears begin to fall until you heard him stand up from the chair abruptly, he was there, in three large steps. He stood beside you, keeping his eyes on you as he turned the water off, he silently pulled your hands from the dishes, letting them lightly fall into the sink, he grabbed the towel and dried your hands. You cried harder as he pulled you into his chest, one arm tightly around your back, his other hand cradling the back of your head. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He whispered after a while, he had begun to rub shapes into your back, noticing how it made your breathing slow slightly. You shook your head, pulling away from his grip, despite his best efforts to keep you flush against him. “What is this?” You asked, keeping your eyes on his, “I can’t keep doing this, why did you come last night?” You asked in more detail, crossing your arms over your chest. Anthony looked at you, trying to find the right words to say, but deep down he knew none of them would make up for how he treated you last night, or for how he had dragged this on for months now. “I came to apologize.” He muttered.
You went stiff as a board, of course it wasn’t what you had hoped for. “That’s all?” You questioned, looking up at him with desperate eyes. He nodded, “I shouldn’t have been so rude last night, you didn’t deserve it–“ “No, I didn’t.” You cut him off, anger rising in your chest, “Anthony, if that’s all you had to say, I really think you should leave.” You whimpered, voice cracking as you pushed past him.
Idiot, he thought to himself, why couldn’t he just say it.
Finally, his brain came to its senses and directed him towards you, he grabbed your hand, tugging you towards him, grabbing your waist to steady you when you crashed into him. Eyes filled with tears once more, he stayed silent as you stared at you. You let your eyes flutter shut as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours, silently asking if this is what you wanted, when you didn’t pull away, he took that as a yes. He fully connected your lips, sighing into you, relief filling him when you reciprocated the action, your arms going around his neck, desperate to keep him close. He took a few steps forward, pressing you against the wall, his body flush against yours. When he pulled back, a soft whine fell from your lips, you opened your eyes to find him already looking at you. Eyes slightly wide, a smile working its way onto his face, “you need to say it, Tito. Please.” You whispered, resisting the urge to pull him in again. “I love you.” His voice was soft, gentle as he looked down at you. “I have ever since I walked into that cafe.” He added, you tugged him back into you, kissing him again, this time pouring emotion into it. The two of you moved in sync, in perfect time with each other, like you already knew everything about one another. Which in a way, you did.
“I love you.” You repeated back to him, pulling away just enough to speak, he nearly whined at your words, not realizing how badly he had needed to hear them. “I’m so sorry, I was so dumb, I couldn’t admit that I fell for you so quick. It scared me.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your face. “It scared me too.” You sighed, hiding your face in his neck. “You’ll just have to tell me all the time now.” You teased, making the both of you relax.
The feeling when he told you he loved you, that was something you’d never forget.
The feeling when he showed you, in all the little things, in all the physical ways, in all the ways he would look at you… it made it all worth the wait.
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local-ground-apple · 4 years
Text
n a u g h t y
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can be treated as second part of I detest you so much, Mr. Schoenheit  aka the making out session
tagging: @twstpasta​ it’s not exactly the concept I told you about, but it’s gonna happen in next part, however Vil is in fur
warnings: it gets spicy and a bit smutty
n a u g h t y
You pretend not to, but your eyes tremble So close yet so far from giving you the signal and keep teasing you, desperate eyes and gestures, it’s so obvious It feels thrilling for some reason
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,,My, my, don’t you look stunning Mr. Schoenheit?”
Vil turned on his heel at your cheerful voice, yet he knew you were far from being polite. He clicked his tongue eyeing your form. You were dressed in snow white suit, which adorned your body perfectly. Your gaze was icy, contrasting with broad and gentle smile on your lips. Meanwhile, he wore a seemingly simple black suit, yet elaborate fur loosely hanging from his shoulders was completing the whole outfit. 
,,What a shame, Mrs. S/N, I’m afraid we match. Didn’t you say something about that “atrocious suits of mine”. Yet you wore a similar one?”
His seemingly hurt tone was dripping with malice, as he slowly approached you. Vil raised an eyebrow, expecting you to nervously come up with any sort of excuse, yet he was mistaken once again. Your hand gently ghosted over the soft fur, almost making Vil flinch, yet since the paparazzi were still here. He shifted, his form hiding you and your actions from unwanted sight.
,,What can I say, great minds think alike. Besides, I wanted to show you that I look more attractive than you in suit, Mr. Schoenheit”
Vil refrained from letting an exasperated sigh left his lips. You both were observed by way too many people attending the same fashion event as you two. You sighed deeply, crossing your arms on your chest. 
,,Actually I got an offer and I can see that you got one as well”
You stated, pointing at white-black fur, perfectly complimenting Vil’s pale skin. Your words made him frowned for a mere second, before a smile crept on his lips. Was he really doomed to be promoting the same brand as you?
,,Oh really? I’m surprised you hadn’t received a fur then. Perhaps it’s not the same offer”
You could sense that he was conflicted. Crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t have to meet you on countless photoshoots and listen to your vicious remarks, but also hoping you two would spend more time. 
,,Oh, I left it in the car”
 You stated casually, shrugging.
,,And I didn’t want to make you look worse compared to me since it’s the same fur.”
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,,I hate you”
,,There’s someone starring on your right, I would kindly smile to me if I were you”
You whispered, as you brought your lips to glass of champagne. Vil refrained from letting an exasperated sigh, as his lips twitched in fake yet pleasant smile. You slightly leaned in, lowering your voice.
,,You’d look better with nothing underneath this fur”
“Stop creating unnecessary sexual tension”
Vil huffed irritated. You noticed how his cheeks flushed for a mere second, before they returned to pale white again. He leaned in, as if he was reaching for a macaroon which was behind you. His hot breath gently tickled your skin, as his hand “accidentally” ghosted over your hip. Your smile never faltered, yet your heart skipped a beat from the close proximity.
,,Well, I wonder whether you will be that vocal, when I will see whether you look better without this atrocious suit of yours”
Vil mocked your previous words, making you let out a barely audible “tsk”. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled away with a soft smile, which in no way reflected the sultry tone he had just used. Vil gracefully bit the macaroon, while you giggled as if he told you a joke, catching a flying glimpse of some unwanted camera.
,,My, my, I thought you hated me”
,,Well, I can show you how much I detest you in backstage”
You raised your eyebrow at the sudden offer. Vil wasn’t usually the one to take such risk, especially in the middle of the party. 
,,I would love to see what’s underneath that your fur of, yet I’m afraid my escort is looking for me. Besides, Mr. Schoenheit, we’re talking a bit more than we should”
You gave him the knowing look, while your gloved fingers gently twirled the glass in your hands. Vil raised an eyebrow, rather surprised that you hadn’t come alone. 
“Your escort?”
,,Did you really expect me to appear here without a company? I’m not as miserable as you”
You stated and Vil resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pin you to the nearest wall. He wondered whether malicious words would be slipping through your lips sugarcoated with a gentle smile, that was supposed to satisfy hungry eyes of sensation-seekers.
,,Well, if I recall correctly, you rejected my invitation”
“Oh no, no, Mr. Schoenheit. I wanted to come here with you, point out your imperfections and steal your fur, yet since I’m filming drama with Neige, I’m afraid my manager had to turn down your invitation. He says we look rather cute together”
You shrugged, while Vil gripped his glass tighter, that he was afraid he may break it. 
Neige? Out of all bloody people, it had to be Neige. 
Vil scoffed mentally. He failed to hide his irritation and disgust for a brief moment, making you chuckle at his distressed expression which was quickly masked by disinterest. Yet, you could clearly see that violet orbs were burning with jealousy and malice. 
You and Neige looked cute together? 
I beg you pardon, thought Vil as quickly scanned your body once again. You two had already look like a couple with practically matching suits, making some people question whether you were models for Crewel’s newest fashion line.
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The breathe was lost in your throat, when Vil roughly pushed you to the wall. You stumbled a bit, your hands clutching the cuffs of his impeccable, black shirt, pulling him closer. 
,,How much time we have?”
You whispered, as Vil already slid your jacket to your elbows.  One of his hands was fiddling a button of your shirt and the other one was ghosting over your belt in almost teasing matter. Your fingers gently twirled his tie, as Vil eyed you clearly hesitating what to do.
,,Around fifteen minutes before the show, ten before Neige starts looking for you”
Your hands gently run up and down Vil’s arms, gently trying to slip the fur out of his shoulders, yet he stopped your movement. He shook his head.
,,I don’t think you deserved it, darling”
He cooed mockingly, as you only pouted hearing his words. Vil let go of your hands, biting on one of the fingers of his glove. He brought his hand close to your mouth. You smirked, before biting down and swiftly taking it off, leaving a crimson smear of your lipstick.
Vil clicked his tongue in displeasure.
,,Unbutton yourself”
You rolled your eyes, yet your gloved hands quickly unbuttoned first few buttons, while Vil’s hand gently traced over your curves, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel his gaze resting on your chest. His lips gently pressed down on your skin, ghosting over it. You stayed surprisingly silent. Your hands resting on Vil’s soft fur, not wanting to tug on his styled hair. He raised his head, giving you questioning look. 
 ,,You’re not going to offend me?”
,,Who would have thought you would be into humiliation, Mr. Schoenheit?”
,,I’m not”
Vil’s lips hovered over yours, barely parted as he pushed your legs further apart with his knee. One of his hands gently traced a circles over your thigh, gradually going up. What a shame you didn’t wear a dress. Truly.
His fingers gripped your chin, before soft lips pressed against yours. Vil bit your lower lip, making you gasp in surprise. Your hands clutched his fur, pulling him closer, pressing your chest to his. Vil’s cold hand slowly went lower, teasingly brushing against your chest, ghosting over outline of your underwear, before it softly slipped inside.
You bit your lip, practically drawing blood, as you concentrated on not letting any moan slip through your lips. His fingers gently rubbed the silky material, teasingly brushing over the outline of underwear. Vil’s lips left a trail of wet kisses on your collarbone. His teeth bit down on one spot, nibbling and sucking, sure to leave a reddish mark which could be visible through your white shirt. His fingers mercilessly pressed against your clit, tracing circles on your skin, making you throw your head back against the cold surface.
,,Hmmm, maybe now I should point out what’s wrong with your outfit, Mrs. S/N?”
Vil whispered in sultry tone, slightly biting on your earlobe, while you were left breathless from the sensation.
,,I loathe you, Mr. Schoenheit”
You spit out, as the wide grin spread across Vil’s face. He let out a barely audible chuckle, as his fingers pressed harder, making you gasp. Your lips parted and you failed to bit down on your hand, as a moan slipped through your mouth. Vil smirked, as you gripped his fur, pulling him even closer. Your hips pressed against his desperately searching for any fraction.
,,Just…just hurry up”
You whispered, as your gloved fingers gripped his chin, harshly pressing your lips against his in heated kiss. You could feel Vil smirking, gently parting his lips, allowing you to take full control. He pulled away, leaving you breathless and panting, chest heaving up and down. He licked his previous marks on your collarbone, while movement of his fingers never ceased. Yet before you could feel the pleasure slowly spreading thoughout your whole body, Vil mercilessly pulled away. 
Your eyes widen and you grabbed his arm, desperately clinging on it, when the sensation from his touch was slowly fading. You could see his grin behind your glossy eyes, yet you needed him. 
,,W-wait! Vil, you can’t just-“
,,We wouldn’t want to get that pretty suit of yours dirty, beside we don’t have much time yet. Unless you beg, darling”
“Fuck you, Mr. Schoenheit”
You mumbled, clearly frustrated, as you quickly buttoned your shirt and began straightening up your slightly creased jacket. You let out an exasperated sigh, as you promised yourself not to speak a word or spare a glance at the man standing in front of you.
Vil’s lips ghosted over yours, before his finger gently applied the lipstick on you. You opened your mouth to say vicious remark, yet a sultry tone sending shivers down your spine, was faster than you.
,,My, my~~~What naughty puppies, are you!  But I must acknowledge that you look splendid in my furs~~”
205 notes · View notes
galaxii-star · 3 years
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Underneath the Suit (SWAP UN AU)
Note : Event that occurred in this story is clearly fictional. Do not imitate the following behavior. And a warning that this contains a terribly horny child. It is not nsfw, rest assured-
AU belongs to @azeriaa
Whitty had left to go somewhere else. The house was finally all to herself. The demon child quietly slipped away from the tall trees she had been hiding in while watching the bomb closely. A window was opened, leaving an entrance for her to sneak into the house. She grinned to herself happily once entering, baring her razor teeth. Star clasped her hands together, pointed tail swaying side to side with secretive intention. She could do whatever she wanted in this house. In Whitty’s house. This is a just dream come true! Too good to be true!
But the thing is she isn’t all familiar with the house setup. She barely had the chance to explore while Whitty was around, and utterly embarrassed to show her curiosity openly. Now that no one is around, she did not have to worry about it. She just wanted to dig through Whitty’s clothes, and his room could be anywhere. It was a huge mansion, after all. He lived the luxury life! Forgot to mention, he also got a robot assistance. She truly envied him. She got literal gold all over her but yet she has no butler to tend to her needs.
Her heels clicked on the marble floor in a melodious tune as she skipped cheerfully across the vast hall. Under the glittering chandelier, she almost felt like a queen. As much as she loved to indulge in this lavish feeling, she still remembered where she was supposed to be heading to. Star hummed as she made her way up the stairs, hand feeling the smooth golden railing. Once at the top, she could see the picture windows majestically presenting the beautiful garden. The plants had been well-tended, blooming so colorfully. She wished she had a mansion like this. Brushing her thoughts aside quickly, she went through the doors which were sadly not to Whitty’s room. She grunted with a hint of annoyance. Her tail began to sway in an anxious motion as she feared that the bomb would return soon and ruin her chance to get her greedy hands on his clothes. Or worse, caught her sniffing them. Oh, how foolish would she look! She wouldn’t want to look like a drooling dog, especially in front of her source of obsession. That thought made her shudder. His room could possibly be in the third floor, she thought. There was a spiral staircase leading to the third floor near the picture windows. Star went up there swiftly. There was the terrace and a couple more doors. The demon girl grumbled irritatedly as she had yet found more doors which didn’t contain Whitty’s room. What uses are of having multiple rooms when there is only one man and one butler living in this lonely mansion? She guessed this is just the way of living for the rich. She whispered the unlocking charm (‘Alohomora’) as she have done to the rest of the doors. The fifth door unlocked in response. The demon girl twisted the knob and pushed the door open. What followed made her heart stop: how could she have forgotten about the robot assistance?
Hax was halfway changing, stripping off his dress shirt. The demon child couldn’t help but to gawk, jaws entirely slacked. Star didn’t expect anything more than just merely robotic parts. His body is a close imitation of an actual human body. He has the replica of human body muscles. Seams trailing all over his metal body and lining his metallic muscles seemed to glow idly underneath the light. What was his creator thinking when making a rough sketch of him? Eventually, shade of red was slowly crawling up her face. She realized she was getting hotter and hotter, sweat forming as if she was in the blistering-heat summer. Hax simply stared back at her with his featureless expression, while placing his clothes in the laundry basket.
“ What brings you here, Master?” he inquired in his usual formal tone.
His voice snapped her back to reality. Star flushed furiously, gritting her teeth as if it was his fault that she walked into him like this.
“WHAT THE HELL, DUDE!” she snapped.
Star immediately pulled the door close with a loud bang. She backed away and her back met the opposite door. The girl slowly sank onto the ground, shivering in not embarrassment. This new stirring feeling… It felt so luscious. She was almost in a haze, recalling what she saw in that room. She relished the thought, almost perversely. She wanted to go back into that room to have another look of that perfectly-sculpted body, but she resisted the urge. Hax was truly a peculiar man as others spoke of him. When the robot left the room, Star was already gone.
She may not have found Whitty’s room, but she sure made a delicious discovery.
***
Hax noticed that Star had been staring at him.
“What are you staring at, Master?”
“I WASN’T LOOKING AT YOUR BODY, FUCKHEAD.”
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glynnisi · 4 years
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ShieldShock Holiday Fic 2020       FOR  @ava-rosier      
At Ao3:  Snowbound Christmas
Prompts:
-There's only one hotel room left and it's a blizzard outside and There Is Only One Bed.
-Either at a Mall or an Airport during the busy holiday season, a villain is trying to steal/ruin the holidays and Steve and Darcy, who are both there for Reasons, team up to foil the dastardly plot.
-When Darcy wore her new, risqué Captain America xmas/holiday sweater to work that day, she didn't expect that he would actually...y'know...SEE it.
---
So, it’s been a while since I wrote. Hi, friends!!! :)  But I adore ShieldShock still and will always adore @mcgregorswench and the ShieldShock Holiday Fic Exchange.  I tried to capture the feel of your prompts, @ava-rosier .  I’ve done holiday in the airport before but can NEVAH get too much of THERE IS ONLY ONE BED.  Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday, enjoying seeing 2020 finally end, and that you’ll enjoy your ShieldShock holiday fic gift!!! :)
---
Snowbound Christmas
Darcy startled as the car door scraped open over deep snow and a gust of wind blew in to steal her breath. It was even colder than the previous times. Steve could move fast, but not faster than the blizzard winds. He shook his head as he slammed the door closed behind him, sealing them in the relative calm. The only sound at first was the rustle of her shivering. He turned the car on again and they both savored relief as the air around them warmed.
She shifted position in her seat. “Steve, my friend! No room in the Inn?” Darcy tried to sound upbeat rather than weary. “I’d so hoped the eleventh try would be the charm. I mean, those two were raved over in Google as ‘simple’ and ‘budget’. You wouldn’t think that would draw a crowd.” She continued to watch the snow fall, eyes going out of focus.
Steve shook his head and pushed his snow-damp hair back. “I tried all five places in the village. Cut across town on foot rather than wasting gas.” He frowned. “I’m too stubborn. Should ‘a stopped twenty miles back where there were more possibilities. I’m sorry, Darcy.” He kept his eyes on the road as he started slowly moving. The snow was falling hard, gusting winds whipping it around them with abandon. Even with four-wheel drive, good snow tires, and perfect reflexes- Steve didn’t dare go more than fifteen miles per hour. Driving was hazardous, more by the minute.
Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “The forecast was off. I thought we had more time before it got bad, too. I swear! I only closed my eyes for like twenty seconds. When I opened them again it looked like I’d missed seeing three inches fall. You must be freezing. The other motels are two miles away, aren’t they?” She shivered, both sympathetically and because the car was still warming up.
“I’ll be fine.” Steve sighed again and glanced at Darcy’s phone before staring ahead of them again. “Any other ideas?”
Darcy squinched up her features, “well…” She was glad Steve focused his attention on the road. She worried that her idea wouldn’t be well received. “We could ask the others for suggestions? Surely Tony owns something between here and the City.” Darcy held her breath. She’d seen Steve and Tony clash at the Avengers Upstate Base enough to know that he didn’t want to ask Tony’s help.
Steve reached in his jacket pocket and handed his phone to Darcy, groaning in resignation. “Had the same thought. See if he’s replied?” He steeled himself.
Darcy laughed merrily as she read his incoming texts.
“That bad?” Steve’s frown lines deepened.
Darcy’s lips twitched. “Nah, buddy-o. Tony’s busting your chops about being a damsel in distress. He reminds you that he’s been away from Pepper for a week and has injuries to rest up from. Says to cool your heels at a summer lake cabin of hers. Coordinates and key code provided. And to resist the urge to crash dramatically into the lake as it wouldn’t be very festive of you. Cabin can be drafty, but was cleaned recently. Which, yay! They were going to come up last week for a dating anniversary celebration before the weather changed and he took that mission.”
Steve nodded and blew out an impatient breath. He glanced at Darcy again, “does anyone other than Jane know you’re with me?” His tone sounded wary.
Again, Darcy shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I dunno. If the local mechanic didn’t have sick kids at home, I’d be driving myself through this like I planned. Probably would’ve crashed in a snow drift by now or be caught in the sadly-parked madness on the interstate you were smart enough to skip. Why? I’m sorry that coming for me put you behind schedule. You’re too kind, putting yourself out for little ole me. You probably have plans with close friends, or something.” She trailed off, uncertain if that was a fair assumption regarding Steve. As much time as they’d spent together since they met over a year before, he seemed to always be working.
Darcy frowned, sad for Steve. And for herself. She’d tried in vain to shake the crush she had on the loneliest Avenger. He seemed determined to stay lonely and fill his time almost entirely with work. Whenever he came to Jane’s lab, she struggled not to let her extreme thirst for him show. She ended up babbling most times, griping about stuff and talking nonsense. He came by the lab a lot, so she had many embarrassing memories to cringe about.
“Not really. And don’t apologize, Darcy. I wanted to help you. I’m glad you’re with me rather than stuck, or worse.” Steve chose to ignore part of her question for the moment. “I was just going by Tony and Pepper’s party at the Tower to keep some peace between us. Then I figured I might go to Brooklyn to see the crazy lights they put up there these days, and then maybe head down to D.C. to see Sam. Nothing firm. No big deal.” He turned into a skid and eased up on the gas. Anyone else would have registered alarm at the need to maneuver like that. The majority of drivers would have wrecked. Sleet mixed in with the precipitation.
Darcy nodded, silent. She clicked on the coordinates Tony had sent and turned up the volume on the phone directions. When there was a pause, she spoke up, “still sorry to keep you from your party, lights, and Sam. I’m relieved that you weren’t just planning to ignore the holiday at the Upstate Base again this year, though. No offense, but hearing you did that last year made me mad at you.” She let out an indignant huff and blinked back tears.
He raised his brows, but didn’t reply at first. Finally, not wanting to seem rude, Steve asked, “mad? Why?” He fought against both flickers of hope and melancholy.
Steve tried not to wish for what he believed he couldn’t have. He’d found that Darcy won friends easily, but rarely let anyone get close enough to know her the way he’d like to know her. She kept things light and funny, using her humor as a shield against intimacy.  He admired her ability to deflect when she used it with others, lamented it when she used it with him.
The first day they met, Steve fell hard for the brash, strong-willed, funny, gorgeous dame. And then he met her boyfriend, Ian. Even after that relationship ended, Darcy made it crystal clear that she saw Steve only as a friend. Her emotional shield pushed him back like the strongest of force fields. She bristled if he held a door or pulled out a chair for her. She acted like it was weird if he did anything for her- like bringing her coffee when he was getting some for himself in Jane’s lab.
Also, there was Darcy’s apparent dislike of soldiers. She cursed agents and soldiers as ‘jack-booted thugs’ every time a piece Jane’s equipment misbehaved. He’d overheard Darcy rant to Jane about her sister’s hard life with a military guy Darcy disdained as ‘Soldier Boy’. Steve was a soldier. He'd never regretted it until it came between him and the only 21st century woman he’d met who captivated him.
Her tone as she spoke next brought Steve out of his reverie. “I know that those you love from your time were more like family to you… that you still mourn all you lost.” Darcy avoided looking at Steve, “But, I consider you a friend and I don’t like for anyone to treat my friends bad… especially, themselves. Thinking of you doing busy work and walking echoing halls alone. Imagining you eating frozen dinners and training alone while the rest of the world celebrated? Too sad. Awful. I wish you would’ve let me, I mean, someone, anyone, know that you didn’t have plans.” Darcy swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. She’d held that in for the better part of a year and was terrified that she’d overstepped enough to anger Steve. If her voice sounded brittle, she couldn’t help it. Her feelings for Steve ran deep. She’d taken one look at Steve Rogers and lost her heart irrevocably.
Steve shook his head and joked to offer one correction, “I hardly ever eat frozen dinners.” He cleared his throat. “What did you do for Christmas last year?” Steve’s tone was mild, unreadable. He’d spent a lot of the previous year’s holiday week reliving the pain of seeing Darcy being kissed by Ian under mistletoe. It was a harsh blow since he’d heard rumors that they’d broken up and dared hope for a chance with her. Thinking of that terrible moment still filled Steve with potent jealousy.
Darcy cut a glance Steve’s way. “I went to the usual lame lab holiday party, complete with joke gifts and too much mistletoe. Then, un-fun family time. As soon as I could escape my dumb sister Beth and ‘Soldier Boy’, I got back to Jane’s. I made Thor watch Christmas cartoons while I struggled to explain the pop nuances of them to him. We drank eggnog. I exchanged joke gifts with him and Jane and Erik. Then we all helped serve Christmas dinner at homeless shelter. And I ate too much and fell asleep on the couch at Jane’s place that night. I ‘peopled’.” She glared at Steve and repeated in an accusing tone, “’Peo-ple-d!’”
Darcy frowned as she also remembered Ian cornering her under mistletoe before Christmas. He tried to get back together with her until she threatened to tase him. It had cast a pall over Darcy’s entire holiday.  That was one interaction with people she did NOT look back on fondly.
Steve chuckled weakly, “and you’re mad at me for not ‘people-ing?’”  
“You never want anyone to pity you in any way, but then you do stupid stuff like that! I mean, I was drunk when Thor told me, but it made me CRY.” Darcy shook her head and looked away, frowning, angry. “Sorry. Said too much. Not my business. I know. Sorry.” She hunched her shoulders as though concerned he might offer a rebuke.
Steve's face fell into a sad grin. “No need to… It’s nice that you worry about me, Darcy. Thanks for that.” He resisted the urge to cover her hand with his. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” Genuine distress filled him, that she’d cried and that he had no right to offer comfort. Something in her reaction brought out his deepest protective instincts.
Careful to avoid distracting Steve from driving, Darcy poked his rock-hard bicep. “Pfft. Silly. You’re not alone, even if you try. You have friends. I’m your friend. You know that. Right?”
“Friends.” Steve nodded, grim. “Yeah. Thank you for being my friend, Darcy.” He sighed, long and low.
Darcy nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.
---
 Soon, they arrived at the coordinates. A tiny cabin nestled in the deepening snow. It was dark, but for a dim light visible through its large windows.
Darcy moaned, “finally.”
“I could carry…” Steve’s voice trailed off as Darcy threw her door open and jumped out into the knee-deep snow. She almost fell, but righted herself. The winds swirled snow and sleet all around her.
“Shit! Cold!” Darcy trudged with purpose towards the cabin. “So cold! And, eww, wet. Oh!” She input the code Tony had sent for the front door lock and shoved inside. Darcy kicked off her snow-covered boots and dropped her coat inside the front door. She scurried to the bathroom. “Some of us don’t have super bladder capacity!” Her brief view of the cabin interior was minimal. Dark shapes stood out against the eerie snow light through the windows.
Steve slammed his car door and followed. He shook his head and yelled back, “nobody has that” as he picked up Darcy’s coat, shook snow off, and hung it on a hook. He toed off his boots and set them and Darcy’s boots near the fireplace. Then, he peeled off his snow pants and hung them on a hook near the door. They’d kept his jeans dry.
“Don’t get your tights in a twist. I’m hurrying!” Darcy called from the bathroom.
Brows raised; Steve surveyed the cabin. He flicked light switches and swore under his breath as low, golden light bathed the tight space. The room was dominated by a low bed and floor to ceiling windows. A Christmas tree decorated with lights stood by the bed. There were at least a dozen pillows and a sheer hanging canopy laced with warm string lights over the bed. There was no sofa, only two reading chairs and a small table in front of the fireplace. A kitchenette took space along one wall. It had a well-stocked wine rack.
Mostly, there was the ridiculously romantic-looking bed. Face prickling with heated anxiety, Steve found a thermostat and started the heater. Then, he began to build a fire in the brick fireplace. The cabin was cold and the windows were more suited to airiness than warmth. The back walls were brick, attractive but cold in winter weather.
“Uh, Steve?” Darcy sounded sheepish; voice muffled by the bathroom door. “Can you hand me a blanket or look for a robe or something? I’m sorry to trouble you. My pants are soaked up to the knees and I can’t put them back on. They’re freezing. Wet with snow.”
Steve closed his eyes, still for several seconds. He looked around for a closet and saw instead a wardrobe. He grabbed a black silk robe, frowning at the sheer and gauzy red alternative hanging beside it. The top shelves held baskets of swimsuits, shorts, and other summer clothes. He took the black robe off the hangar and walked to the bathroom. He knocked and held out the robe, eyes averted. Then, he went back to work on the fire.
“Thanks, I didn’t think. Just ran to the bathroom. I…” Darcy stopped as she got a good look at the cabin. “Oh, holy… uh, night.” She cut a careful glance Steve’s way.
Steve shook his head and chuckled. “Something like that. Don’t worry. I can sleep on the floor. I’ve done worse.” He arranged another log in the growing flames and warmed his hands.
“You can NOT! Don’t be stupid. I won’t attack you. Promise. We both need to sleep and there’s room for two if we remove a few hundred pillows.” Darcy’s tone sounded more certain and stubborn as she talked. She rolled her eyes at him. “Make a line of pillows down the middle of the bed as a dividing line if you want to keep me away. Or, I can do it.” She frowned at him, set her jeans near the fire to dry, and moved to the kitchenette. Darcy opened the refrigerator, freezer, and cabinets to see what they had to work with. “Sorry about my coat and boots. I was gonna get them, I swear.”
Steve frowned, disliking her urgent anxiety. “No problem.”
Darcy opened a bottle of water and drank it. “I didn’t dare drink much water while we were stuck in the car, but I still needed a bathroom for at least the past hour.” She offered him a bottle, which he accepted and downed before returning his attention to his work. Darcy moved food from the freezer to the refrigerator to thaw. She opened a couple of cans of soup and put them on to simmer, and sat in a reading chair. “I checked the weather forecast while I was in the bathroom. We’re not getting out of here on our own power before tomorrow night at the earliest.” She tightened the belt on the robe and leaned towards the fire, hands outstretched. “Nice. Getting a little warmth there. Thanks.”
Steve excused himself to the restroom. On his return, he sat in the other chair. He watched the fire’s progress, then turned his attention to the deepening snow visible through the windows all around them. “Quieter now. Slowing down, or a lull before more blizzard.”
“Lull, according to radar. Fresh snow absorbs sound. Something about air between the flakes dampening vibrations.” When Steve gave her an impressed look, Darcy grinned, “I saw it in a meme on the Internet. Must be true.” She winked at him.
Steve returned her grin. “Internet. So helpful.”
“Except when it’s REALLY not.” She made a face, both sad and angry. “Beth met ‘Soldier Boy’ online. And, of course his worst notions get amplified there. Bleurgh.”
Careful, Steve dared, “what branch of the Military is your brother-in-law with?”
Darcy choked on water. “Br... Whaa?” She shook her head, hard. “God, no! Don’t say that. It might come true if you say it.  Eww! Grandma Esther'd roll right out of her grave to beat the ever-living sh… heck… pardon me, out of Beth if she marries that Nazi wannabe.” Darcy shuddered dramatically. “Crud. They’ve been dating more than a year. And, Christmas… You may be right. Ugh.” She spoke as she texted into her phone, “‘If you marry him, I’ll give you kitty litter as a wedding present, used kitty litter. Dumbass. BTW I hate him. He’s awful.’ Ugh. Delete. Delete. Delete.”
Steve digested all this and stayed quiet. He noted with interest that Darcy’s cheeks reddened as though with embarrassment. In his experience she didn’t embarrass easily. Her plush lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Beth’s dating a racist faux-militia-type lunatic. She’s decided she’s Sub to his Dom and overlooks his politics and crazy behavior. It’s nauseating.” Darcy frowned, sad, “I don’t see the attraction. Mom says the sex must be great, cuz she doesn’t understand the attraction, either.” Darcy twirled a piece of her hair nervously on one finger. “Mom thought she had the worst taste in men in the family, but Beth’s making her wonder.” She shook her head. “Sorry. Nothing to you. You don’t know them. Crazy family of a sorta friend.”
“I know you… some. I care more than you think.” Now Steve’s cheeks reddened. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
Darcy gestured as though to bump shoulders with him. “Nice.” She arranged the robe over her legs, both from cold and modesty.
Hesitant, Steve ventured, “you never mention your father.”
Darcy’s gaze turned his way. “Nope. Long gone.” Her expression hardened. “Thank goodness.”
After an awkward silence fell between them, Steve went to the stove and spooned soup into two bowls. He returned to his place by the fire. He handed Darcy her soup, noting her mild surprise at being served. They ate without speaking. When they were done, they both took their bowls and rinsed them in the sink.
Darcy walked over to the bed and started moving pillows. “Do you want a dividing line?” She didn’t try to meet his gaze.
“Not necessary. Let’s put the pillows by the windows. They’ll block some of the cold that’s coming in and making it hard for this place to warm up.” Steve pressed pillows along the bottom edge of one window. He glanced back as Darcy slid beneath the covers, still wearing the black robe. The warm light brought out red and light brown highlights in her long hair. She looked even prettier than usual in the golden glow. And he thought she was always beautiful.
Darcy shivered hard. “Sheets are freezing!”
Swallowing hard, Steve sat on the far side of the bed from her. “Want the decorative lights off?”
“N…n..not unless you do. They’re p..pretty. Make me think warmer thoughts.” Her shivers shook the bed.
Steve shifted so that he could lift the covers and lay underneath them. They were icy cold against his pants. He imagined the chill was worse against Darcy’s bare legs. He lay back and closed his eyes, feeling the motion of the bed from Darcy’s shaking. The winds began to wail again, harder than before. He opened his eyes and turned to look out at the raging blizzard. “Wanna lay back-to-back? I run warm.” As she shifted so that she faced away from him, he rolled to his side and moved back against her. He cursed himself as a masochist.
“Ohhh. Fuck, yes!” Darcy swore under her breath and whispered, “sorry. So sorry!”
“I know what you mean and you don’t have to avoid cursing around me. We’re not on a mission communicator in an official capacity. That ‘language’ thing they joke me about is nonsense. I don’t give a damn about how people want to talk in regular life.” Steve closed his eyes again, trying to keep his tone even as Darcy wriggled against his back. He heard her mutter thanks a few times. Making her feel good pleased him.
Five minutes later, Darcy rolled over and pressed her cold nose against his shoulder. She spent several minutes trying to figure out where to put her hands. She ended up crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her hands under her chin. Within minutes, she was asleep.
Listening to the sound of Darcy’s breathing as it evened out and deepened lulled Steve to sleep soon after. His face settled into a small smile.
---
 Steve supposed it was a slight change in the blizzard-muted light of day that woke him next. Languorous, sensual dreams dissipated through his hazy thoughts. Dream images of Darcy, kiss-swollen lips and bared creamy skin, heated his blood.
Then, awareness hit him hard. He and Darcy clenched in a lover’s embrace. Their legs entwined and her head was on his chest. Her sweet, feminine scent filled his senses. Her amazing breasts pressed against one side of his chest. One of her hands was against his arm and the other warmed the skin of his stomach, inside his shirt. It all felt so good and right that it stole his breath. His body’s natural response to his dreams, to her, and to waking was extreme. He was afraid to move lest any friction push him past sanity. A small, low moan sounded in her throat as she shifted against him. He tensed.
Her voice was raspy with sleep. “I know it’s awkward, but I’m way too comfy to regret it. You feel good, Steve.”
“Right back atcha’, Doll,” he whispered. Wishing himself back in his dreams, he kissed her forehead and squeezed her even closer. He wanted her so much he could hardly stand it.
Darcy made another small sound in her throat as she wriggled against him. The realization that he was aroused sparked her passions, but she didn’t dare to presume too much. Maybe it was only an impressive sign of morning. She followed his example and placed a chaste kiss below his jaw. She felt his heart pounding more quickly and closed her eyes again. She flexed her fingers against his ridiculously-cut abdomen and felt him jolt. She debated if any of his reactions had anything to do with her in particular. She wished they did.
Both of them were awake, but neither admitted it.  Each of them savored the embrace and the feel of the other’s body. They each fantasized about the other.  They fantasized about passionate first moves, expressing affection and desire. Want. They became lost in imagining more and more.  Time passed. Their emotions swirled like the blizzard winds that trapped them together.
They lay cuddled and simmering with unspoken desires until Steve’s phone rang. It broke the spell. He moved away from Darcy and answered the phone.
She watched the play of muscles under the back of his shirt and struggled to stifle her lust.  Darcy closed her eyes.  It was futile.  Her lust for Steve had been growing for over a year.  In this circumstance, lust was inevitable.
While Steve talked with Sam, assuring him that he was fine though the storm prevented him reaching the City, Darcy left the bed and went to the bathroom. She snagged her dry jeans on her way there. She took a shower and did what she could with toothpaste she found in the medicine cabinet and her finger. When she came back out, she hung the robe in the wardrobe and put on her Christmas cardigan. She looked through the wardrobe and giggled at the sheer red robe. Then, Darcy took a step back. She buttoned and straightened her sweater by her reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
Steve paused in his conversation, a gob-smacked look on his face, “what…?!”
“Oh! Yeah. I know. Gaudy, isn’t it? Well, last year Tony gifted the ‘ugliest sweater at his party’ winner $10,000. I know what he can be like, so I thought I’d stand a better chance of catching his wallet’s attention if I went a little on the sexy side. And I sewed in lights.” Darcy twirled and turned on the LED lights that adorned the sweater. Her dark green Christmas cardigan had bauble Avenger emblem buttons. A Captain America Shield button strained to hold the sweater together over Darcy's breasts. Silver and gold trim around the hem resembled tinsel. Red and gold lighted and embroidered ornaments dotted the sweater at random. It was a bit gaudy rather than ugly, but sexy most of all since the fabric hugged Darcy’s ample curves. She wore it over a tight red top and skinny black jeans. The ensemble played up her natural assets.
Steve could only nod in reply. He tried to turn his full attention back to his conversation, but didn’t do well.
By the time Steve was off the phone and had made the bed, Darcy found waffles in the freezer and syrup in the pantry. She had coffee brewing and was downing another bottle of water when Steve began stoking the fire embers and adding wood. They shared a quiet breakfast. Steve tried not to look at Darcy’s figure and failed again and again. He tried not to fantasize as Darcy licked syrup from her lips. He failed.
As they finished breakfast, Darcy looked around the cabin. “Aw, man. No TV?”
“Actually, there’s one over the bed.” Steve swallowed the last of his coffee.
“Over?” Darcy gave him a disbelieving look and went over to look up inside the bed canopy. “You’re not kidding.”
He chuckled and shook his head, “at first I thought it was a mirror.”
Darcy lay on the bed, on her back. She looked around for a remote control, finally finding one in the nearby window sill. “Icy remote.” She pointed it up and sighed, “but it works!” Channel flipping and streaming services browsing occupied her for some time.
She hoped rather than believed that Steve was looking at her with lusty interest.
Steve was. The intimacy of their situation and Darcy’s sensual appearance were a potent combination. He could hardly speak. He excused himself to go get a quick shower. He came back out a few minutes later, dressed again but still toweling his hair dry.
Darcy didn’t meet Steve’s eye as she offered, “you’re welcome to join me. Just friends watching television, ya know. I’m watching a silly Christmas movie. ’Scrooged.’ Okay?”
Steve shrugged as he made his way back to the bed. He shuffled, awkward, as he drew nearer.
Darcy shifted towards one edge of the bed, not meeting his gaze. “Plenty of room. Don’t mind me.”
He smiled as he sat on the other edge of the bed and forced himself to speak up. “Sam said that they’re busy helping first responders deal with stranded motorists. Hundreds of them all across the state. A lot of people didn’t have our luck and find shelter. I had to agree with him that it’s more important that they help them than us. I’m sorry you won’t have the chance to win the sweater contest.” He eased onto his back beside her, folding a pillow behind his head.
“Of course, they need to help people who’re stuck!” Darcy shuddered. “It’s super cold out there and the storm got out of hand so fast. I can only imagine. We’re fine here.” She grinned and turned to him. “You really think I’d win?”
Steve was struck by how pretty her green eyes were. He blushed. Her look turned quizzical. He nodded and spoke a thick reply, “yeah. Definitely.” Steve forced his gaze up to the television mounted above them. “I assume that ‘Scrooged’ refers to the Dickens novella?”
“Yup.” Darcy shifted further to the edge and lifted the covers so that she could get under the blankets. Once under there, she groused, “darned lights and ornaments are poking me.” She frowned, and unbuttoned the sweater again and lay it aside. Buttons and lights made a clicking sound on the floor by the bed.
After debating for what felt like an endless time, Steve got under the covers and shifted closer to her. “Can’t let you freeze.”
Darcy rolled up on her side and looked him in the eye. “It would be rude to let me freeze. I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” She winked at him, trying to seem playful. She thought that he was looking at her lips, but dismissed it as wishful thinking.
Steve assured her, “I’ll do my best to keep you from freezing. Wouldn’t want to be rude.” He put one arm around her, hand spanning the middle of her back. “I’m a polite guy.”
“You’re the nicest soldier I’ve ever met. Have I ever mentioned that?” Darcy ducked her head as a blush filled her cheeks. The way his hand covered her whole back made her feel tiny. Did things to her. Made her want his hands on her in other places. The fire she tried to play with was backfiring spectacularly, leaving Darcy breathless with desire.
“No. But I’m glad to hear it.” Steve gave her a squeeze.
There was a loud noise onscreen. Darcy rolled onto her back so that she could see the television again. She hoped Steve wouldn’t notice that her breath was racing.
After a few minutes, Steve nudged her. “Tell me about other soldiers you’ve met? There are good and bad apples in any group, you know.” He felt Darcy tense.
Though she didn’t look at Steve, Darcy decided to answer. She told him about Puente Antiguo and the SHIELD agents and soldiers who took Jane’s research- and their computers and even Darcy’s personal iPod. SHIELD ran a strange, temporary military base near the town and Erik worried about their absolute power. She told him about the shifts in those soldiers’ attitudes after Thor returned to Asgard. First, they were obsequious, but gradually more restrictive. They coveted Jane’s research and tried to control them all. After a long pause, Darcy shared, “some of them reminded me of my dad. He was military, Marine. Not a nice guy, especially to our mom.”
Steve rubbed Darcy’s arm as she talked. He felt that it was a privilege that Darcy was telling him something so personal. He didn’t want to break the spell, rather hoped that she might open up to him more.
Darcy blinked back tears. “He found fault with everything she did. She couldn’t do enough fast enough to avoid setting off his temper. Then he… well, you know.” Darcy ducked her head.
Realization dawned on Steve. “So, he never served her a dish or coffee even if he was getting something? He never held doors for her or pulled out a chair? You never saw him treat her with respect?”
Steve stilled as Darcy sat up on one elbow and stared at him, eyes wide. “Respect? No. No respect.” She grabbed the remote again. “Let’s look for something else. I saw…” Darcy glanced at Steve. “’White Christmas’ is about to start on this channel. I remember liking the dancing and pretty outfits and thinking it’s sweet. The story starts in your time, though. Do you mind?  Will that make you too sad?”
Steve shook his head. “I’ve heard good things about it. I’ll be okay.” He wanted to say that he was more than okay with Darcy next to him, but was too tongue tied.
As the classic channel announcer talked, Darcy shifted closer to Steve again. “I want you to be okay. The 21st century’s not all bad, ya know.”
Again, Steve kissed Darcy’s forehead. “Yeah. Thanks, Doll.” He stroked her hair as they began watching the movie. “This okay?”
Darcy nodded, wondering if he was only being nice because he felt sorry for her or if there was another reason. “Yes. Very okay. Feels nice.” As his fingers trailed down her back, she shivered with pleasure. She wondered if he had any idea what his touch did to her. She savored the feelings, the want and heat, for a long time. Other thoughts ran through the back of her mind while she tried to ignore them.
Most of the way through the movie, the 'pretend-engagement' conspirators confessed to Bing Crosby’s character. Steve commented, approving, “at least they fessed up and set him straight. Too many times in romantic comedies the people avoid saying what’s on their mind until it’s too late. It's silly.��� He stilled as Darcy pushed back from him and stared at him again. “What?  You okay?”
Darcy nodded.  “I… yeah. Sorry.” She sat up on the edge of the bed, paused the movie, and grasped her phone. After a moment, she nodded. “I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna make this call before I chicken out. Wish me luck.” She grabbed the green sweater from the floor and slipped it on over her red top again.
“Luck.” Steve got up and walked around the bed so he could sit next to Darcy. She looked up at him with a grateful warmth that transfixed him. He nudged her shoulder to offer comfort as someone answered her call.
“Beth? Hi. It’s Darcy. Merry something or other.” Darcy’s knee bounced, betraying her restlessness. Steve could feel tension fill her frame. After a moment, she continued, “yeah. Fine. I found a place to stay. I’m with a friend. And, Beth?” She took a deep breath, “He treats me with respect. Caring and respect. Even if he were…” Darcy paused. She rushed the next words out all at once, “well, if he was my Dom? He wouldn’t embarrass me or push away you or Mom by making me say ‘Meow’ and only ‘Meow’ to you at his whim. He wouldn’t think that's funny. He wouldn’t call me a ‘dimwit’ or a ‘bimbo’. He… Beth? I’m sorry to criticize your choices. But you deserve better than that kind of stuff. I hate the way Chad treats you, the way he talks down to you and tries to change you. You don’t need changing. I don’t know if it’s just me that Chad can’t stand. But, if it’s not? If he treats you like that in front of other people? I mean, would he demean you in front of your kids like Dad did Mom? Would he hurt you? How much like Dad…? Scratch that. Sorry. He’s not Dad. I’m not trying to be an unfair bitch to Chad, whatever he says. I worry that…” Darcy gasped, “don’t cry! I’m sorry! No! You… what? He what? He didn’t… What?!?” She shook, both in her body and voice. There was a long silence on Darcy’s end as her sister talked and cried. Darcy only interrupted the flow of words to utter sounds of disgust and disbelief.
Steve went to the kitchenette and got more water. He opened a bottle of wine and made thawed meat into fried burgers and baked French fries in the oven. He took Darcy water and returned to work on their lunch. The smell of good food soon filled the tiny cabin. He stayed busy, but most of his attention was on Darcy and her conversation.
Finally, Darcy rasped, “Well, that’s… What?! You’re thanking me? No. What? I thought you’d tell me to go to Hell, not take my call as a divine sign that you should say no and leave him. Oh, thank Baby Jesus!” Darcy laughed through tears. “Yes! I know I’m a bitch and I’m causing you to throw yourself on Mom’s mercy at Christmas. Enjoy her cookies for me. If it makes you feel better, I don’t have baking ingredients. Oh, fine! Hm? My friend? Awesome like you wouldn’t believe. Uh, I don’t know. It’s… pffft. I need to talk straight to him, too. Wish me luck?” Darcy wiped tears from her eyes. “Yes! I love you, too. Now, go. Text me when you’re safe at Mom’s and tell her I’m safe and I’ll call later. Merry Christmas.” Darcy hung up from the call and stared at the phone, rocking in place until she received a text. Then, she collapsed backwards onto the bed and stared up, unseeing.
Steve stayed quiet, letting Darcy calm from her talk with her sister. When the food was ready, Steve returned to her side and offered her a hand up, leading her towards the fire.
Darcy stumbled to a chair. “Thanks. You’re the best.” She drank more water.
“So, did he propose?” Steve began eating again and gave Darcy time to answer.
Darcy ate a bite of hamburger with a few fries and shook her head, “nope. TOLD her she was gonna marry him. Told her!” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Jackass! Good riddance.”
Wry, Steve shook his head. “Not very romantic. Not that I’m an expert in that department, but…”
Darcy only nodded as she devoured the rest of her food and sipped wine. “I had no idea how hungry I was.” She looked at Steve, thinking how lucky she was to be trapped with a good person who exuded calm and kindness. She especially appreciated that after the intensity of her conversation with her sister. Darcy sipped the wine as she focused on Steve. Being with him settled her, made her feel safe. And looking at him was always a delight. Steve Rogers was handsome, to be sure. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his green and blue flannel shirt. Unfair of him to subject her to sexy forearms on top of all the rest. Like every shirt she’d ever seen him wear, this one struggled to cover his muscles. She’d given up trying to think of adjectives that could convey how attractive Steve was. And nice. He didn’t call her out for staring at him like a weirdo, mooning after him. He didn’t even press her to speak up now, when she was sure he must be curious about the ‘straight talk’ she’d mentioned. He gave her the space she needed to regain her equilibrium.
Respect. Steve treated her with respect. She had a wonderful friend who treated her with respect. She ought to be forever grateful rather than daring to wish for more.
Steve finished his glass of wine and poured himself another.
Darcy held her glass out for him to top off, then sipped it again. “This is good stuff. I never spend more than $10 on a bottle. I’d bet the cork on this stuff costs that much,” she giggled, “or even the label.”
“I’ll give Tony money to cover it when we get back to the Tower.” Steve shrugged.
Darcy glanced outside. Snow and sleet fell still. “That’ll be a bit yet.”
Steve nodded, not sure what to say. He felt happy trapped with Darcy, to have a chance to talk with her and hold her close. Even if she only saw him as a friend who kept her from getting too cold. Silence fell between them again.
“Wanna finish the movie? Sorry I shut it off without asking.” Darcy needed more time to gather courage.
Steve nodded, “no problem. Yeah. I’d like to see the ending.”
They took their dishes to the sink and then returned to the bed. There, Darcy took off her Christmas sweater. She threw back the covers and snuggled next to Steve under the blankets. He put his arms around her while she used the remote to restart the movie. Finally, the lovers in the movie sorted out their misunderstanding, kissed, and made plans for their future. Fierce longing overwhelmed both Steve and Darcy. Unconsciously, he stroked her back.
There was no one and nothing to distract them or come between them. Nothing except for their own emotional shields. But it was a day for dropping those.
Cheers and strains of the song ‘White Christmas’ sounded behind the words ‘The End’. Darcy ducked her head so that she didn’t have to look Steve in the eye. “I wish…”
Steve interrupted, “I wish that you didn’t dislike soldiers so much, Darcy. I’m a soldier and I can’t change that, never could.”
Darcy pushed back from him, “what? Change? You? No! I don’t… Oh! No. I only dislike the bad ones. I don’t like jack-booted thugs who steal Jane’s research and my personal stuff. I don't like Nazi wanna-be’s or, well, mean soldiers. I like… I like you, Steve.” She swallowed hard and jutted her chin out. “I wish that your work didn’t take pretty much all your time and that you didn’t miss your good old days so much. I wish…” She blinked back unshed tears. “I really wish you wanted to be here- in this time- with me, Steve. I’m sorry. I know you only want to be friends. And I won’t say anything more to make you uncomfortable, friend.” She smiled a small, watery smile. “Friend. I’ve done that for you all this time. I can keep doing it. I want any relationship we can have, even just friends.”
Confusion filled Steve’s expression. “Is that why you say ‘friend’ to me so much? Because you think that’s all I want?”
“Uh huh.” Darcy nodded miserably.
He inched closer. “And you like me even though I’m a soldier? And you want to be more than friends with me? Darce?” He whispered, “do you… want?”
Darcy looked up at him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to make things so awkward when you’re stuck here with me. Yes. I want! I wish that you wanted to be more than fr…Mmph!”
Steve kissed her.
He pulled back and stared at her as he cupped her cheek with one hand. “Sorry. I should ‘a- May I kiss you? I’m crazy about you, Darcy. I’ve wanted you for months and months. Want you so much I can hardly stand it. Not just friends, please. More, Doll.” His eyes gleamed with fervor.
Darcy nodded, stunned.
Steve chuckled, kissed her forehead and kissed her cheek again, with reverence. “Darcy, Doll… can I get a ‘yes’ to me kissing you?” He shifted so that his lips were a hair’s breadth away from her lips. Charged air shook the space yet between the two of them. He waited.
“Yes!” Darcy closed the distance between them and met his kiss with her own. They both trembled into it, a feather-light exploration. They each absorbed the idea that they’d misread what the other wanted. She murmured again, “oh, yes, Steve.”
He grinned as he kissed her again, deepening the kiss. He nibbled at her plush lower lip as he’d fantasized and dreamed so many times. Reality was a million times better. Darcy shuddered against him and groaned with pleasure. Steve stilled and closed his eyes. “Oh, Doll.” Darcy teased at his lower lip and he groaned, “gonna be hard as hell to be a gentleman with you doin’ that.”
Darcy chuckled, “who says you have to be a gentleman?” She shifted her leg to brush against his hardness. “Mmm. You were saying?” She nibbled at his lip again and played with the top button of his shirt.
Steve jolted and cursed under his breath. He kissed her quiet, again deepening the kiss and learning how they fit together. Steve savored Darcy's lips and tongue and throat while also exploring what she liked best. Sensitive spots. Sweetness. Eagerness. It was pure bliss. Darcy was becoming short of breath. Steve lay back and looked up at the next movie that had started while his Christmas dreams began to come true.
Darcy glanced at the Santa onscreen and panted. “I no longer have anything to ask Santa for.” She undid Steve’s top shirt button and kissed at the base of Steve’s throat. “I can think of a few things I’d like to ask you for, though.”
Steve grinned down at her, “same, Doll.”
“Oh?” Darcy undid another button on his shirt and kissed the exposed skin. She looked up at him and held his gaze as she undid the next few buttons.
Steve pulled her up for a long, slow kiss that set Darcy’s every nerve ending afire. She undid another few buttons on his shirt. When he shrugged it off, Darcy stilled, staring at his naked chest. “Holy…”
“Night?” he suggested. She snorted a giggle. He shifted her so that she sat astride him. He asked with his eyes if he could lift her shirt.
She nodded. “I may freeze, but yes. Please do.” She lifted her arms.
He shook his head. “Not gonna freeze. Haven’t you heard? I’m the man with a plan.” His voice tightened as he pulled her shirt up over her head. He shifted another pillow behind him and sat up some, pulling her towards him. He kissed her breasts as he reached around and undid her lacy red bra. “Damn, Doll. You’re a fantasy come true.” As he began to tease at her breasts with his lips and tongue, Darcy shivered and moved on him. He groaned, “here.” He pulled his shirt out from beneath him and helped her put it on, open at the front but warming her arms and back. "Looks much better on you than Tony's robe."
“Ahhh.” Darcy tried to talk, but Steve returned to tormenting her with his insistent lips. “G...good plan. Ohhh.” She squirmed in his lap, grinding against his erection with abandon. He let out a lusty groan that made her proud.
Steve pulled her chest against him for warmth as he moved up to kiss her lips and face again. “You’re shaking.” He looked concerned, but couldn’t resist kissing Darcy again. And again. He plucked and teased at her with his dexterous fingers. He loved the frantic sounds she made in the back of her throat.
“Not cold.” Darcy pulled back, then kissed him again and again. “Just want. Want you. Want so much.”
Steve shifted, rolling Darcy down onto her back. “Good thing, Doll.” He kissed her. Long, slow, passionate kisses that she met with a fervor that lit him up more every second. He palmed her breast and continued his exquisite torment. Darcy arched up against him, writhing. He lowered his lips to her breasts again. First one, then the other. Kissing and nibbling and sucking. She cried out and bucked as he swirled his tongue, hard. Darcy wasn’t sure if she would be embarrassed to come just from his attention to her breasts or impressed. Possibly both. Likely both.
He resumed teasing her nipples with his fingers. He placed open-mouthed kisses all along her belly. Steve took his time. “Beautiful.”
Darcy whimpered and began to shove her pants down. Steve stilled her hands. “I got you.” He undid the snap on her black jeans and kissed the exposed skin. Then he lowered her zipper and kissed her more. Darcy held the covers up with one hand and ran the other covetously along Steve’s shoulder. Steve pulled her pants and panties off and then moved back up her body to kiss her cheek and lips again.
“Pants!” Darcy begged him between kisses.
Steve huffed a laugh and unbuttoned his jeans. Darcy pressed against him, skin to skin. She wore only his shirt and warm red socks. Finally, he pushed down his pants so that he wore nothing.
Darcy’s eyes went even wider. “Oh, my. You go commando?”
He shrugged. “Habit. The uniform requires special briefs.”
She reached for him eagerly and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.
“Fuck,” Steve hissed.
Darcy's grin had a wicked glint. “Something like that.” She kissed down his chest and abdomen until she finally took him in her mouth. Then, Darcy delighted in taking Steve completely apart.
When he’d caught his breath again, Steve gave Darcy a smile unlike anything she’d ever seen from him before. It was both delighted and full of mischief that caused her pulse to race. He again pulled her astride his legs so he could taste and tease at her breasts. He left lingering kisses along the column of her throat and over her wrists. He disappeared under the covers and kissed her thighs and the backs of her knees. Darcy squirmed and unseeingly stared up at the movie. Steve didn’t tire, didn’t cramp- only focused on Darcy's pleasure with single-minded, super-strong drive. He had her writhing with pleasure long before he let her come. Another Christmas movie was playing onscreen and halfway over before Steve came up for air.
Finally, when Darcy begged, Steve slowly slid home. She realized that he’d been prepping her so long because of his size. She felt stretched wide as he twisted to hit her G-spot just right. She came quickly and felt as though she continued coming again and again as Steve pounded into her. He twisted her around so that he could plunge in from behind while rolling her swollen clit between his calloused fingers. After he came, he laid his fingers flat, soothing. He cradled her body tight back against his. Aftershocks left her spasming with pleasure. Steve kissed Darcy’s head again and again, murmuring, “sweet Darcy. Crazy about you.” She dozed in his arms, warm and loved and completely satisfied.
Dinner that night was steak and vegetables from the freezer, paired with an exquisite red wine. As they lay in bed afterwards, cuddling and teasing each other, Darcy felt Steve’s arms tighten around her. He buttoned a few buttons on his shirt to cover her and murmured, “company.” Soon, Darcy heard the sound of Iron Man landing outside the front door of the cabin.
Tony threw the door open and sauntered in, “I’m here to rescue you.” He stared, looked around and saw the open wine bottle and two pairs of pants on the floor by the bed, and shook his head. “Or, not. I guess Pep can stop crying about you being lonely on Christmas again this year, Cap. And I can stop wondering why you’re not answering texts. Nice shirt, Lewis.” Tony was blinking hard, slack-jawed with surprise.
Darcy laughed, “you should see the sweater I was gonna wear to your party. It’s around here someplace.”
“Lights up, sparkles, and hugs her curves to perfection. I’m sure she would ‘a won your contest,” Steve grinned, enjoying Tony’s shocked expression.
Tony smiled, “I bet. Well, Mazel Tov! Thanks for popping Cap’s cherry, Lewis. ‘bout time.” He pretended to wipe away a tear of pride.
Darcy snorted, “no way was that his first time. Orgasm hall of fame. All my Christmas dreams have come true.”
Steve ducked his head against her hair. “Good to hear, Doll. Right back atcha’.”
Tony shook his head. “Good reviews all around then. Well, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays kids. I’d guess you’re all set here ‘til it’s safe to drive again?”
Steve looked down at Darcy and she looked up at him. They both nodded emphatically and turned to Tony, “we’re good.” Tony laughed.
“Merry Christmas, Tony,” Steve beamed. “We’ll see you in a day or two.” He repressed a shiver as Darcy began teasing him under the covers again.
Darcy called out, “Merry Christmas! Thanks for dropping in.”
Tony shook his head and waved back at them as he went out the door of the cabin.
Steve pinned Darcy on her back and began ravishing her again, mock joking, “naughty girl!” He pushed into her again and set a slow pace as he rained kisses over her breasts.
Darcy looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “Your naughty girl.”
Steve kissed her hard. “And my nice girl. Merry Christmas, Darcy.”
Gasping with pleasure, Darcy answered him, “Merry Christmas, Steve.”
 Fin
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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years
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toxic - chapter 7
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i thought this gif would be appropriate since it’s your time to shine with the fam. anyway, enjoy this really chaotic chapter because it is all over the place. (may contain spoilers to Knives Out)
You woke up the morning of Thanksgiving with a knot in your stomach.
You’re telling me you had to go back and deal with Ransom’s chaotic ass family? No thank you!
You decided on a pair of black leggings, a maroon long sleeved shirt, a gray cardigan, and brown low cut boots for this particular event. You didn’t exactly know how everyone there would be dressed, but if you were going to be uncomfortable you might as well be uncomfortable in comfortable clothing.
You sighed as you finished curling your hair and applying some neutral eyeshadow and mascara. You heard a knock at the door and hurried out of the bathroom.
“(Y/N), can’t hide in there forever,” Ransom called. You pulled on your boots before opening the door and blinking in surprise.
He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a gray sweater with black converse. His hair was combed back and his blue eyes shined brightly.
“Converse, Mr. Drysdale?” You complimented and winked at him. He shrugged as the two of you began to walk downstairs.
“Eh, they were in the back of my closet and I thought ‘this seems like the holiday of trying new things,” he explained with dramatic hand motions. You giggled.
It was a day much like the rest, cloudy, damp, cold, and windy. You shivered as you climbed into the BMW and buckled up. Ransom climbed in next to you and started the engine.
As the two of you took off you began talking.
“So... what should I be expecting?” You asked with a small smile. Ransom smiled back as he kept his eyes on the road.
“Picture your first day with them but closer, more political, longer, and more awkward,” he explained. You scoffed and looked up.
“So it doesn’t get any better?” You said flatly. He chuckled.
“It just goes down hill sweetheart,” he replied with slight pity. Your heart jumped.
Sweetheart, goddammit.
~•~•~
When the two of you made it back to the gorgeous estate, your nerves worked up even more as Ransom parked. He unbuckled and turned to look at you. You were shaking slightly (from cold or nerves, neither of you could tell) and had a forced smile plastered on your face.
“You’re nervous,” he observed flatly.
“You’re crazy,” you shot bsck. He raised his eyebrows.
“(Y/N) I swear you’ll make it through. Look, Joni is going to get tipsy, my parents are going to gossip in the corner, Marta- well I don’t really pay attention to her, Jacob will be on his phone the whole time, Meg-“
“Okay I know you’re trying to help but I think we should just go in,” you cut him off quickly. He stared at you for a moment and saw the urgency in your eyes and shrugged.
“Suit yourself.” He climbed out and you followed. You walked faster to catch up with him and pulled your cardigan around you tighter. You took a deep inhale and exhale as you entered the warm house and smelled lots of different food you were surely excited to eat.
“Marta!” You exclaimed. The nurse caught your eye and smiled, waving. You looked next to you and Ransom had already left your side, making his way to the kitchen and breezing past his family. You frowned briefly but looked back at Marta. “How are you?” You asked. She glanced around the room.
“It’s another Thrombey holiday, one of the few days a year I have to put up with them all at once,” she retorted. You smiled and patted her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I’m here this year and I’m always willing to help a girl out.” You smiled. She nodded before being called in the other room and leaving to answer. You looked around at the castle house, as you liked to call it. The upside was that you got to spend all day in this beautiful home of a kind man. The downside was that you also had to deal with his all over the place family.
“(Y/N)!” A female voice exclaimed. Joni walked towards you smiling with a glass of champagne in her hand. “Here you are again, how are things with Ransom?” She asked as she surveyed your appearance. She made it seem like the two of you were close gal pals who hadn’t seen each other since college back in ‘87. Maybe this was just her persona... But it was weird.
“Oh, everything is nice,” you replied politely and nodded. She smiled and hummed a soft “mhm,” before regaining eye contact.
“Look, so I was reading your horoscope and-“
“How do you know when my birthday is?”
“Oh easy I found one of your article on Twitter and I just looked you up and-“
“(Y/N)!” Another voice said. You resisted the urge to groan in annoyance and roll your eyes. Is it possible to get tired of hearing your own name?
You looked over and shuddered when you saw Richard walking towards you and smiling. He walked up and put an arm around you and warnings were going off in your head.
“Joni leave the poor girl alone, go have a drink,” Richard shooed her away. Joni rolled her eyes and walked away as her high heels went click click on the wood floor. That left just you and Richard.
“How are ya kiddo?” He asked in a (little too) friendly tone. You smiled nervously and tried to inch a bit out of his grip.
“Oh, wonderfully,” you said through gritted teeth. You looked around for a possible outing but Ransom was nowhere in sight.
“Good, good, listen,” Richard cleared his throat and pointed a finger. “Linda and I were talking and we thought it would be nice for you and Ransom to maybe spend a night with us, you know? I mean we’d like to get to know you too,” He explained. Your head felt light and you were just trying to get away by this point, but his grip around you was too strong.
“Oh, I-I don’t know, Ransom and I seem to be doing just fine-“
“We would love to have you, sincerely! I-“
“Hey perv, let her go.” You heard a stern voice say. You looked up and Meg was standing right in front of you, glaring at her uncle. Richard furrowed his brows and huffed.
“Meg come on-“
“No get off you slimy perv!” She restated firmly and yanked you away from him. You stood trembling with your wrist grasped by her hand and watched Richard storm off. She turned to face you, her naturally-sad green eyes looking you up and down. “Are you alright?” She asked. You sighed and nodded.
“Y-Yeah, I am now. Thanks so much,” you breathed. She hugged you and held your hand.
“Look if he ever comes up to you again just mention something you’ve written at your job. I know you and your work and what you write about is an absolute way to piss him off.” She winked. You smiled and nodded. She gave you a smile before slowly walking off to find something to do.
You pulled yourself back together and started to slowly walk around, hoping you’d run into Ransom somewhere. While passing by a few chairs, Ransom’s cousin Jacob sat quietly on his phone.
“So why are you here?” He asked without skipping a beat. You halted in your tracks and looked down at him.
“Hm?” You replied in confusion.
“Why are you here? Nobody just visits Ransom to visit Ransom,” he said shortly without looking up. You scoffed in disbelief and crossed your arms.
“Uhm, Ransom and I used to be super close. This is just me revisiting an old friend,” you said curtly. Jacob rolled his eyes and put down his phone to actually look at you.
“Look, I don’t know if someone like you would understand,” he began. You did a double take. Someone like me? What the hell kid! “But Ransom always has a play. And since the two of you are so close, I would’ve expected you to-“
“Hey short stack,” Ransom suddenly appeared next to you, cutting Jacob off. “How about you stick to spewing crap through your phone, yeah?” Ransom retorted and drove you away from him. You blinked a couple times. What the hell was happening? You’d only been here for fifteen minutes and you were getting so many mixed signals.
“Ransom what the hell,” you said. He shook his head.
“Don’t mind him, he’s literally insane- Fran!” Ransom called and snapped his fingers above your head as the maid passed by. She stopped and glared at him. “She would like a drink.” Ransom pointed down at you. Fran chuckled and continued to walk away.
“Welcome to the family, kid,” she muttered.
~•~•~•~•~
Later that evening after getting to know Marta and having a quite pleasant conversation with Harlan, it was time for dinner. The family sat at a huge table with Harlan to your right and Ransom to your left. Harlan insisted you sit near the head of the table with him because of your “charm and pleasantness.” It made you blush whenever he said that.
After dinner was served and everyone was eating, Harlan took this as an opportunity for everyone to learn more about you.
“So tell me my darling (Y/N), what’s your life like back home?” He asked. You glanced around with wide eyes as everyone slowly turned their attention to you. You cleared your throat.
“W-Well, I live in an apartment in New York and I work at The New York Times,” you began slowly. Harlan nodded with an intrigued expression as you continued. “I-I have a best friend, Claire, and we normally work together on our articles...” You gestured to Marta. “Claire is Latina too, so I’m really blessed to-“
“Makes sense,” Jacob muttered. Richard cleared his throat and leaned forward and held his hands on the table.
“Ah, so an immigrant friend! What’s that like (Y/N)?” he asked. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be racist or not, but you furrowed your eyebrows.
“What do you mean? She grew up in-“
“Oh please Richard leave the girl alone,” Linda scolded. All of a sudden the table was roaring with stern chatter. Ransom sat there and laughed, glancing at how idiotic his family looked. Harlan rubbed his temples and gently touched one of your hands, glancing at you with an “I’m sorry” expression. You slowly sat back down as you glanced around at everyone talking about immigration and politics. You took a sip of wine and sighed.
~•~•~•~•~
“I’m just saying that if women are working the same jobs as men how can they not be getting paid the same?!” Richard said from the couch. The conversation that night had shifted from immigration to feminism. Linda, Richard, Joni, Meg, and Jacob all sat in chairs or couches around the fireplace. Your head was resting on the doorframe as your eyes drooped with boredom and exhaustion. You gently swished around the dark red alcohol in your glass, occasionally taking a sip out of it.
“Oh my god Richard! Obviously if that was the case we wouldn’t need feminism!” Joni explained in annoyance.
“But Joni it would be unreasonable for something like that to happen! Studies show-“
“Richard not all jobs have the same ethics-“
“Shut it Meg you’re still in college,” Jacob said flatly. Meg glared at him and gave him a swift slap on the arm.
“Here, you know what, (Y/N)!” Richard called. You perked your head up and slowly walked into their conversation as Linda scolded her husband and Joni complained. “(Y/N), dear, how are you getting paid at your job?”
You took a sip of wine.
~•~•~
While you were getting quizzed on your job and beliefs, Harlan had called Ransom into his study to talk about you.
“Well my dear boy,” Harlan said. Ransom looked at him blankly.
“Hm?” He asked. Harlan tapped his finger against the desk.
“A fine young girl isn’t she?” Harlan asked. Ransom nodded. “She’s both intelligent and beautiful, how’d you manage to be friends with her in the first place?” Harlan teased. Ransom smiled and shook his head.
“Yeah, she’s really something.”
“What are you planning to do with the next few days you have with her left?” Harlan asked. Ransom looked up for a moment.
“Oh you know, just what we’ve done the last couple days,” Ransom replied casually. Harlan cocked an eyebrow.
“You know, I’d hate for you to lose her somehow,” Harlan replied. Ransom’s insides halted, but he played it cool on the outside. Harlan knew his grandson, he knew there was some sort of scheme he was up to.
“Grandfather what do you mean?” Ransom asked. Harlan leaned back in his chair and shrugged.
“I feel as though the two of you reconnected for a reason, and I just hope it was for something good. And I hope it stays,” Harlan told his grandson. Ransom stared at him blankly for a moment before Harlan chuckled and patted his hand. “Go out there my boy.” He laughed.
Ransom stood up slowly and walked out, shutting the door gently behind him. Somehow his grandfather had made it into his mind and flipped some sort of switch. Did Ransom have feelings for you?
“(Y/N)!” Ransom called. You turned around to see him walking up quickly towards you as you stood in the middle of Joni and Richard, whose tones and volumes were beginning to rise. You sighed in relief.
“Ransom I’m ready to go,” you muttered. He nodded and the two of you quickly walked towards the door.
“(Y/N) and I are leaving!” He yelled. You stood next to the door as Ransom pulled on his jacket quickly. He opened the door and gestured for you to walk out. You walked out into the brisk night air in a small hurry. You could hear confused chatter and people trying to say goodbye as Ransom and you quickly climbed into the BMW. You felt horrible for not saying goodbye to Meg, Marta, and Harlan, but you knew you’d make it up somehow. Ransom was tired of his family. He wanted to go home and spend as much time with you as he could, hoping to figure out some things of his own.
Harlan watched all this through a window in his office. He chuckled as he watched as you and his grandson left in such a hurry. Harlan wasn’t hurt you didn’t say goodbye, he knew you would be back at sometime. Marta looked up from the book she was reading.
“What?” She asked with a smile. Harlan turned to face her.
“She’ll be back,” he said. Marta shrugged and looked back down at her book.
~•~•~
“That was really something,” you sighed as the two of you drove home in the night.
“I was quite surprised how nicely you handled everyone there,” Ransom complimented.
“Yeah well I’m just a good actress I guess, because I was nervous and awkward the whole time,” you laughed. He smiled and was silent for a moment, thinking about everything Harlan had told him.
“You know Harlan really likes you,” Ransom said. You raised an eyebrow.
“Did you two boys talk about me?” You asked playfully. Ransom shrugged.
“He said he thought you and I reconnected for a reason,” he explained. You thought about it for a moment.
“I mean I guess,” you replied in agreeance.
The BMW pulled into the driveway and parked. The two of you got out and you shivered. You were tired and ready to go to bed. You walked into and the two of you took off your coats and shoes as you pulled your curls up into a bun.
You walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water to make sure you were hydrated since you felt just the tiniest bit tipsy. Ransom followed and turned on a few lights. You hopped up and sat on the counter as you drank your water and Ransom looked over at you. Sure you looked tired but still you managed to impress him.
You began to tell him about your take on the whole night. He laughed, agreed, and told you some crazy stories about his family. Neither of you noticed how close he came up to you. He was right in front of you, and the two of you locked eyes. His eyes roamed your face and body and you exhaled slowly, staring at his lips.
The two of you leaned in slowly as ever and you slightly hesitated right before connecting your lips to his. You closed your eyes and his hand reached up to caress your cheek. The kiss was gentle, not like anything you had expected from him.
When the two of you pulled away you smiled and giggled. He grinned and looked down.
“Shit, how do you do this to me?” He asked in astonishment with himself. You blushed and bit your lip.
“Oh come on,” you replied playfully. Without missing a beat his lips were back on yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Ransom had fallen victim to his feelings; he loved you. How quickly he had realized that astounded him. All Ransom knew was Harlan somehow knew and pushed the stimulation. All you knew was the remainder of that night was a wonderful blur.
*cries in hormonal teenager* god i was fangirling just WRITING that! i really hope you enjoyed, chapter 8 will be out soon!🤍
taglist:
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jungshookz · 5 years
Note
hi cee !! i just thought of how cute coach!jungkook would be where he trains little kids and one day y/n drops off her little brother at practice and sees this cute new coach and is suddenly volunteering to bring snacks for the next game lol
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➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
➺ genre: if it isn’t obvious by now this is 110% fLUFF, y/n is an obnoxious older sister but we love her, banana milk and animal crackers for everyone!!!!
➺ wordcount: 3.5k
➺ note: hi i want coach!jungkook to hurl a soccer ball at me thanks 
(gif isn’t mine!)
                                       ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“alright, twerp.” you crank the brakes before punching the unlock button on the dashboard “get outta my car.”
you push your sunglasses up to the top of your head before turning to look at lucas in the back seat and raising a brow
why is he not moving
“…mommy always walks me to the field.”
oh dear lord
you have places to be and people to sEE
more specifically you have to pick yoongi up at his apartment because you guys are going to watch that new spiderman movie together and you typically like to get there early so that you have more time to decide what you’re going to do in terms of snacks
“well, mommy didn’t drop you off today. sissy did.”
okay quick note: maybe don’T address yourself as sissy ever again
“-big boys walk themselves to the field.” you point out before glancing over at said field “y’know, lu, the world is a big, scary soccer field that you’re going to have to face alone one day…” you sigh and shake your head playfully as you yank the keys out of the ignition
of course you’re going to walk him to the field
you just like messing with him
“-you might as well get a head start now.” you unbuckle your seatbelt before opening the door
“…maybe next year, when i turn 6.” lucas mutters and kicks his legs against the seat
you can’t help but snort at his comment before shutting the door
your parents insist that lucas was planned but let’s be real
he’s more of a… happy accident!
the boy is sixteen years younger than you
he’s 5!
you’re 21!
a sixteen year age gap is never intentIONAL
nevertheless you still love him more than you love yourself
he’s a sweet boy!!!
he actually never went through the whole terrible twos phase and for that you are grateful because you’re pretty sure 18 year old y/n would’ve willingly flung him out the window in a heartbeat
and you know for a fact that he worships you
well
alright
not reaLLy
but he’s a good little brother and you’re a good older sister and you’re just glad that the two of you get along
you just like acting like he’s a little stiNker all the time because it’s fun seeing him get worked up
>:-)
“by the way, don’t tell mom i didn’t put your car seat in my car.” you help lucas out of the car before reaching in to grab his bag for him
you were going to be a responsible older sibling and put his car seat in for him but there were so many things to click and clack and lock and pop and honEstly you just didn’t have the energy to put it in your car so you just buckled him in and made sure to drive a little less recklessly
also you didn’t see the point in installing it in your car since this is going to be the only time you’re ever going to drop him off at his soccer practice session
your mom usually drops him off because duh
she’s m o m
but she had an emergency meeting at work and your dad is on a business trip for the entire week which means that yoU have to take care of him for the afternoon
which is fine!
except you made plans with yoongi, as mentioned earlier
which means you need to get this show on the road if you’re going to get back on the road to get to the show  
“okay, as long as you don’t tell mom i threw my grapes away.”
“wha- you threw your grapes away?!” you gawk at lucas as you shove your keys into your pocket “are you kidding me? you could’ve given them to me! those grapes were organic, too! they were the goOD juicy grapes!”
lucas smiles sheepishly before shrugging
goD
kids these days
throwing away their damn juicy organic non-gmo grapes
what a waste!
“what time am i supposed to come and pick you up again?”
“6:30” lucas hums in response as he swings his hand with yours
hm
the movie is set to end at 7
…how mad would your mom be with you if you made lucas wait an extra half hour in the dark for you?
u know what
it’s a risk you’re going to have to be willing to take
you are SO brave
not all heroes wear capes
“any preferences for dinner? mom won’t be home til late so it’s just the two of us.” you glance down at him as the two of you approach the field
there are already a bunch of other kids there with their parents
usually the parents just sit on the side and watch
and you would totally stay and watch but like…
spiderman > watching a group of sweaty 5 year olds running around and tripping over themselves
“mcdonalds!” lucas grins excitedly
he likes it when you’re in charge of dinner because it actually means that he’s in charge of dinner and he aLways likes it when he gets to choose what to eat for dinner
one time he asked for spaghetti tacos and you just gave him spaghetti tacos with no complaint
it’s amazing!
you’re a pushover for him and he knoWs it
“alrighty. but i’m getting the apple slices for you instead of the fries because you threw your grapes out.”
lucas immediately deflates
oh
u win some u lose some
“okay, bud. i’ll see you at 7!” you chirp before dropping to your knees to give lucas a goodbye hug  
“6:30” lucas corrects you smartly and you resist the urge to roll your eyes
uRgh
you don’t want to miss the ending of spiderman!!!!!!! what if you miss something mAjor that links to the next spiderman movie?!
whaTEver you’ll just watch it again when it eventually gets on netflix
anyways
back to business
one huGE perk of being an older sibling is the fact that you get to embarrass your younger siblings any time and anywhere
it’s your given right!
you’ve earned it
…and this is one of those times
“oH i’m going to miss my lulu so much-“ you’re practically suffocating lucas considering how tightly you’re squeezing him and you can’t help but giggle as you squish sloppy kisses to his chubby cheek
you don’t want him to ever grow up because you lovE kissing his cheeks
they were exTra chubby when he was younger
he’s starting to lose some baby fat :’(
lucas whines and starts to shove at your chest “stop it, my friends are watching!!!”
“well they’re just jealous because they don’t have an older sister as cool as-“ you immediately cut yourself off because-
holy SHIT
who the friG is thAT
it’s almost as if time itself slows down when you’re suddenly made aware of this very beautiful human being
warm brown eyes that you can already envision yourself drowning in
a bright bunny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth
honey caramel brown hair peeking out from underneath a plain black cap
two small, silver hoops hanging from his ears
he’s wearing a plain black hoodie paired with a pair of plain black shorts but somehow he’s making it look like he just walked straIght off a paris fashion week runway  
he has that boyish quality about him that’s making you weak in your knees
and to top it all off
he’s great with kids
your ovaries are quaking
he laughs and throws his head back before giving one of the boys a fist bump and getting back up on his knees
is it weird that you think his thighs are hot?
…yeah that’s a little weird
get it together
you pull away from lucas before resting back on your heels
you reach out to grasp onto his shoulders to make it seem like you’re having a serious conversation with him because let’s face it this is a very serious conversation
“lu. i’m going to ask you a question, and i want you to answer me honestly.” you look him dead in the eye
“…wha-“
“don’t make it obvious, but… is that your coach?” your eyes flicker over his shoulder and lucas whIPS around to look at where you’re looking
okay
way to make it nOt obvious
“mhm! that’s coach jungkook.”
huh
coach jungkook
that has a nice ring to it
he looks to be around your age which is vEry appealing
working man with a stable job
…you’re into it
lucas is obviously blissfully unaware of the way you’re practically drooling over his coach because the next thing you know- “hi coach!!!!!!” lucas waves wildly and starts bouncing up and down excitedly when coach jungkook glances towards your guys’ general direction
you immediately get up off the ground and reach down to dust your knees off
you should’ve worn something cuter had you known lucas’ coach was going to look like that
“hey, buddy!” jungkook leans down to ruffle lucas’ hair when he rushes over to hug his knees “you ready for a fun session?”
you feel your heart skip a beat when he looks up at you and offers you a friendly smile
o god
“hi! i’m jungkook.” he sticks his hand out for you to shake and oH sweet lord even his hands are pretty
“hi…!” you clear your throat and shake his hand briefly “i’m y/n, i’m… uh, i’m lucas’ sister. older sister.”
okay
you’re not sure why you had to throw in that last detail
you’re obviously his older sister you waLNUT
“ah, that makes sense. usually lucas comes with your guys’ mom, so i was just curious… are you going to stay and watch? there’s plenty of space to sit…” he gestures over to where the parents are and you’re about this close to texting yoongi and cancelling your guys’ plans together
spiderman
“she can’t!” lucas blurts out “-she’s watching spiderman with yoongi!”
uh oh
lucas is blowing your chances with coach jungkook right in front of ur eyES
“yoongi- riGht, yeah, i’m watching spiderman with- lu, why don’t you go and warm up with your friends, hm?” you nudge him a little and he nods before ziPPing right off to join his pals
a beat of silence goes by
“yoongi’s my friend. just my friend.” you clear your throat again before glancing at your watch
“good to know…!” jungkook trails off and purses his lips slightly
okay
this interaction is going downhill vEry fast
“i… should probably go if i’m going to get to the movies on time but thank you for the invitation to stay!” you chuckle lightly and jungkook nods in acknowledgement “i’ll see you later? when i come to pick lucas up? it was nice meeting you…?”
you are a hoT mess
you’re all over the place
why are you phrasing everything as a question?
what’s wrong with you?
you complete moron?  
jungkook can’t help but watch as you jog back to your car
hm
lucas never mentioned an older sister
a very pretty older sister, as a matter of fact
of course, lucas doesn’t really mention anything besides a) soccer, b) snacks, and c) power rangers
interesting
very interesting
“how come you’re driving me to practice again?” lucas’ brows knit together in confusion as he looks at you through the front mirror
needless to say he was very much confused when you came to pick him up from school… again
the act of you picking him up from school isn’t weird but usually you only pick him up maybe once every two months
but this is your sixth time picking him up this month
so yeah
it’s a liiiiiittle weird
“because i wanted to give mom… another day off!” you smile brightly and turn on your signal before smoothly swerving to the right and heading down the familiar path to the field
“oh.” lucas nods and slumps back down in his car seat
about five seconds go by before he speaks up again
“how come you have so many drinks and crackers back here?”
your eyes flicker up to the front mirror again and you see him leaning over to look into the huge tote bag sitting next to him
“you know, lu…” you sigh and shake your head “-as your generous, thoughtful, veRy caring older sister, i just want to make sure you have enough energy for practice which is why i took it upon myself to provide nourishment for you and your little friends!”
“…what’s a noorushmint-”
“-just out of curiosity-“ you veer right into your usual parking spot before cranking the brakes
you turn to look at lucas over your shoulder “has coach jungkook… said anything about me?”
“i- oOH banana milk!!!!!!” lucas grins excitedly and pulls one carton out of your bag
here’s the thing
as mentioned earlier this is your sixth time picking lucas up from school and driving him to practice
that means that this is your sixth time seeing jungkook
and each time, he somehow becomes more and more attractive which mEans that you progressively get more and more nervous and awkward-flirty with him each time you see him
every time he looks at you you get all weak in the knees and your palms get sweaty and you end up regurgitating some lame joke about soccer
every time he laughs at your lame jokes about soccer you feel your heart skip a beAt
and you’re obsessed with how attractive he looks when he’s focused on something
he does this thing where he pokes his tongue into his cheek and it just-
oOh it just gets to you
“hey, twerp-“ lucas glances back at you as the two of you start trekking down the grassy hill to get to the field “don’t tell your friends that you already drank a banana milk in the car otherwise they’re going think that i’m playing favourites which i guess i kinda am buT-“
“y/n!” you immediately freeze when you hear jungkook call your name and you neaRly trip over your feet in surprise “-let me help you with that!”
you swallow thickly before offering jungkook a bright smile “hey! oh, that’s so nice of you…” he takes the two tote bags from you eaSily
what the heck
you were out of breath just picking them up and he’s acting as if they’re as light as feathers
you feel your mouth go dry when you catch a glimpse of his biceps flexing
the lord is testing you toDay
“hi coach!” lucas greets enthusiastically
jungkook grins down at lucas before wiggling his brows “someone’s certainly very energetic today-“
“y/n gave me an extra banana milk and i drank it all in thirty seconds!!!!!”
well
he totally just blew your cover
“you said you wouldn’t tell!” you scold playfully and lucas giggles before dropping his bag to the floor and spRinting over to his friends
“banana milk, huh?” jungkook peeks into one of them before looking over at you
he loves banana milk!!!!!!!!
“banana milk and animal crackers.” you correct and jungkook raises a hand in defence
oh fRick
he loves animal crackers too!!!!!!
you are the girl of his dreams!!!!!!
,.,.,.but like.,,., in a super casual way
because he hasn’t known you for very long
but it’s safe to say that he’s already become veRy fond of you and your company
you’re super friendly
and you’re super funny
and you’re super pretty
it’s also super cute when you’re cheering on for lucas on the sidelines
whenever he scores a goal you jump up and down on your feet and clap suPer excitedly and basically scREAM for him
jungkook loves how supportive you are even though this is a kiddie soccer game and the stakes are so unbelievably low
and his heart melted into a warm puddle that time lucas tripped and scraped his knee and you imMEdiately rushed to his aid
you patched him up and even kissed his boo-boo!!!!!! (lucas was a little embarrassed by that) ((he wouldn’t have minded if u did that at home but u did it in front of all of his bROS and he’s like the resident Cool Guy))
it doesn’t get any cuTEr than that!!!!!!
and jungkook knows that he’s here to coach but he’s finding it vEry hard to do his job whenever you’re around
because you smell like warm vanilla and your laugh is contagious and your smile makes his stomach do flip-flops
and the fact that you brought snacks and drinks for the kids is honestly just the icing on the cakE
“wanna split a banana milk?” jungkook jumps in surprise when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder
“wh- sorry, what was that? i was, uh, thinking about… stuff.” he clears his throat
wow
talk about s m o o t h
“i put the bag down for five seconds and the kids went wild but i managed to snag one carton without losing an arm.” you snort and poke the straw through the top “you wanna split one with me?”
he knows you’re not a mindreader but it’s taking every single one of his brain cells to try to noT think about how kissable your lips look right now
you turn slightly before holding the carton up for him to take a sip and you just have the cutest smile on your face right now and before he knows it he-
“do you wanna grab dinner sometime?” jungkook blurts out and his eyes widen in surprise when he realises that he just asked you out on a date
cuRse him and his complete lack of fiLTER
your own eyes widen in surprise and you blink owlishly
where did thAt come from
you’re not complaining or anything because yes of couRse you want to go out on a date with jungkook but heLLo where did that come from!!!!!!
“um, i-“
“oh, god. sorry! i’m sorry, that was totally- ah, jeez-“ jungkook groans quietly and reaches up to adjust his hat
“-jungkook-“
“-i’m sorry, you’re just really nice and pretty so i thought-“ he can feel his face burning hotter than the damn sun “-i just feeL like we get along really well even though we don’t really know each other buT we can always get to know each other on a date-“
“-yeah, you’re right about that-“
“-i don’t know what i’m thinking!!! i haven’t gone out on a date in a long time so maybe it’s not a-“
“-jungkook!” you slap a hand over his mouth and he stumbles backwards a little from the impact
“…myeah?” his voice is muffled and you give him a warning look so he shuts up quickly
you pull your hand away before adjusting your cardigan a little “i would… i would love to grab dinner with you sometime.”
“oh!” jungkook’s voice is slightly pitchy and he clears his throat quickly “cool. sick.” he says with a lower voice before sniffing and looking back over at the boys
it’s totally whatever
he’s cool
it’s casual
dinner is casual
he’s like… suuuuper chill about it, bro
“mm. sick, indeed.” you tease lightly before nudging his side “…you still wanna split the banana milk with me or not? because i’m going to inhale this entire thing if you don’t want any.”
(the entire time you and jungkook are taking turns taking sips of the banana milk he can’t help but feel like he’s indirectly kissing u)
((but whatever))
(((he’s like…. suuuuuuper chill about it, brO)))
help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)
drabble masterlist // main masterlist
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DUBAI 2019 [August 25th, 4:00PM]
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Chapter 1 T/W: sliiiiiiiiiight smut Words: 1427
There’s something about the air in Dubai that is different to that of any other—a crackle of electricity in the atmosphere that could only be felt otherwise in New York or Paris. All three cities had an aura to them that was unmatched by any other, distinct in their own individual ways and yet similar because of this distinction; a sense of the evergreen hope and a head full of dreams. There was an ever-present consolation that even after the darkest night, the sun would shine down more gloriously than ever.
Most times you couldn’t see the stars in the blanket of darkness that hung over these cities—some nights, if you were lucky, you’d maybe see Orion. But you found it difficult to lament over the loss of such a highly romanticised view when there were lights that sparkled brighter than any star that Earth saw, if only you chose to lower your gaze upon mankind’s most brilliantly engineered creations. Skyscrapers that stood taller than your eyes could see as if to prove that yes, the endless sky is the limit.
Or perhaps you just loved cities far too much.
As you stared at the reflection of the Louboutins that adorned your feet in the mirrored walls of the elevator, you could only be thankful for the modern paradise that Dubai is today, that it always served as a prime location for anything that was high-end luxury—innovation in fashion, technology, architecture, art.
And apparently, Korean music videos.
The red-bottomed soles clicked in a familiar rhythm as you stepped out of the elevator and walked across the marble tiles of your boutique.
These pair of shoes were ones that always raised eyebrows—not in the awed way that you were used to but rather with surprise. The Christereva nude heels from the 2017 collection, with soles that still weren’t worn out since you hardly ever wore them, looked as new as they did on the day that you’d received them.
Why the surprise then?
You stopped at the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the impressive skyline, flecks of white and yellow lights scattered over all the skyscrapers that gleamed and blinked across the dark sky. Your gaze shifted from the view outside and lowered, focusing instead on the reflection of your shoes in the glass pane of the window.
They were old. You could count the number of times that you’d worn them on one hand but the truth was that in the world that you belonged, they were seasons old and to still possess it was considered fashion suicide—you, one of the world’s most esteemed designers, were breaking an unwritten rule by daring to still wear them.
Surely the confused newspapers and fashion magazines would be less surprised if they knew your reason as to why it was one of your most cherished possessions, why you had sentimental attachment to it that made your heart worry like a child about wearing it out yet you used it as a burst of confidence to lift your spirits when you were especially low—kind of like a lucky charm.
Your phone suddenly dinged with an exclusive notification bell that never failed to make your heart skip as you quickly opened the message, an uncontrollable grin spreading over your face.
[4:03] The Eagle has landed ;)
A soft laugh escaped your parted lips, your chest feeling like it would explode with barely suppressed excitement as you start to type out a response. Your thumbs freeze over the keypad as three dots appear before another message appears: [4:06] I’ve literally just landed tho so I’ll call once I reach the hotel, ok? I have to go through immigration now. Your reply is instant: [4:07] Which hotel again? [4:07] Vida. Downtown Dubai.
You grin as you quickly respond: [4:08] See you soon xx and start to make your way quickly out of the boutique, the echo of your heels reminding you of the very first time that you’d held these Louboutins in your hands – your first gift from your boyfriend, the Eagle that had apparently just landed.
Byun Baekhyun.
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[6:15PM]
It’s dark when you finally drive your car to the narrow alley behind the Vida Downtown Hotel, glancing at the rear-view mirror to fix your hair. You check your phone and read through Baekhyun’s schedules at Dubai that he had sent you last week, startling when you suddenly hear the trunk open.    
You glance up to see Manager at the back of the car, throwing bags in and turn your head to your right to see a familiar yet unfamiliar tuft of pink hair shining like a beacon in the darkness as he opens the door and slides in.
“Baekhyun,” you can barely say his name from how hard you’re grinning. “Hi—”
The words disappear into his chest as he yanks you into a bone-crushing hug over the gearshift, arms wrapping tightly around you.
“God, I missed you so much,” he breathes loudly into your ear, pulling away once he hears the trunk door slam close.
You blink as you look up at him, eyes stinging slightly as you try not to cry from all the adrenalin rushing through your system when you finally feel his embrace, finally smell his perfume and finally see his perfect face upfront after what seemed like forever.
Baekhyun grabs your face in his hands and you notice a movement outside the window, your voice sounding slightly distorted as you say, “Wait, Manager, I have to greet him—”
“Okay, hey, don’t choose your boyfriend’s manager over him right now, it’s been almost, what, six months?” He squishes your cheeks together, giving you a smile as he finally greets you, “Hi.”
“Hi,” you answer shyly, feeling flushed with exhilaration and Baekhyun leans forward to kiss you.
Your body instantly melts, like you were butter and he was the afternoon sun as his hands lowered from your face to your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss and moulding his lips to yours passionately. Your own fingers clutch at the front of his hoodie, relishing in the familiar taste of his plush lips, realising in that second how much you’d missed having them pressed against you.
Baekhyun’s hands lower further from your neck to your shoulders, sliding down the curves of your arms and slowly going to your front to grab your breasts. You moan into the kiss, practically collapsing back into your seat as your arms sling around his neck to pull him further into you, the intense burning of love and yearning that was swimming in your body making you almost dizzy with how alive your nerves suddenly felt—almost as if they’d been numb for all the months that he’d been away.
“Baek,” you gasp, pulling away for air and resisting the urge to kiss him breathless again when you see his swollen pink lips.
“We-we should go,” you stutter quickly, eyes darting to the windows. “The area’s pretty crowded, a lot of the fans are still waiting at the front of the hotel.”
“It’s okay,” he reassures you, trying to dive in again and glaring when you duck to avoid him. “They’re at the front. This is the back, I got out through the backdoor of the kitchen in the restaurant—they can’t follow me here.”
“Yes, but they can go around the building,” you explain, rolling your eyes when he pouts in annoyance. You peck a quick kiss on his cheek, pushing him back into his seat as you start the car again. “Relax, Baek, we’re together now. Let’s go home, you told me you’re sick of hotels anyway.”
He grins at that, taking your hand from the gearshift and raising it to his face, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles. You bite back a smile at the sweet gesture as you drive out of the alley and onto the main streets.
“I’m already home,” he mumbles, closing his eyes as he leans his head back on the seat. You stop at the signal and turn to look at him then, smiling slightly when he continues, “Whether it’s teokbokkis at Paris, streets of Milan, the dorms at Seoul. As long as you’re around, its home.”
You try to suppress the grin that’s tempting to burst as you instead tease, “Still cheesy, huh?”
He opens an eye and smirks at you. “What about you? Still kinky?”
“Let go of my hand so I can drive you home faster and maybe you can find out for yourself, Byun Baekhyun.”
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blackcatkita · 5 years
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The Consequence of Secrets- Chapter 26
The Things That Never Change, and The One That Changes Everything
Liam x Jennifer (MC), Drake x Olivia
Let’s skip the part where I apologize for taking so long and promise to get the next chapter out more quickly, shall we? At this point I feel like I’m just jinxing myself when I say that. Word count is 4972 and I hope you like it! I know I do, but if YOU do, please like, comment, or reblog. I appreciate every single note!
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Groaning into his pillow, Drake blindly swipes toward the ungodly sound coming from the nightstand. The clumsy gesture does nothing to stop the noise but knocks the phone to the floor where the alarm he set only a few hours before continues to torment him out of reach.
Shifting a quarter turn, he hangs off the side of the bed to reach the damn thing and turns it off. Chin resting on the side of the mattress and his hands on the floor, he closes his eyes to enjoy the silence, knowing another alarm will go off in five minutes. He hasn’t even sat up yet and he already can’t wait to take a nap. But that will have to wait. He has shit to do, a pissed off girlfriend’s ass to kiss and a King and Queen in need of toiletries and a change of clothes. It’s gonna be a day. Again.
After a quick shower, a cup of stale coffee from the kitchenette alcove in his quarters and a call to check on Olivia’s ETA, he feels slightly more human and less like the walking dead. He grabs his old denim shirt from the closet for old time’s sake and slips it on, recalling what Olivia said as he fastens the buttons. ‘I’ll get there when I get there, don’t worry about when it is. Go do what you’re supposed to be doing and take care of Liam and Jennifer.’ So warm and fuzzy his woman is. A regular wallflower. But though her tone was laced with snark, as usual, she didn’t sound as pissed off as she had been so… here’s hoping he was wrong and whatever she wanted to talk to him about before he left for the capital wasn’t a big deal after all.
Down one hall, a right turn and down another, Drake reaches the double doors of the Royal Chambers, having had to endure several double-takes and apprehensive stares from palace staff along the way. It’s to be expected after what went down but a damn ‘hello’ would be nice. Though he could also say ‘hello’ to them first, if he wanted to be sucked into a conversation that is. Which he doesn’t.
Using the key Liam gave him not long after the area was renovated, he lets himself into the large, open space, bright from the morning sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows. The memory of the last time he stood here flashes in his mind; he and Liam rolling around the floor kicking the shit out of each other, then being unceremoniously dragged out by guards. He forces the thought away and focuses on another time they stood in this space; back when Liam trusted him and considered him his brother.
It was the day before they were due in Fydelia to begin Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour and they hadn’t seen or spoken to Jennifer in weeks. All they knew was she was safe with the Beaumont’s but they didn’t know who was behind the plot, who they could trust or what the future would hold. Despite it all, every detail of the three-bedroom renovation Liam was showing him was designed with Jennifer in mind; from the Brazilian walnut floors and concrete countertops to the damn light fixtures. He had spared no expense and it really had turned out perfectly. Classy, but not pretentious. Elegant, but not stuffy. He built them a home they could be themselves in, within the confines of the Royal Palace. Ever the cynic, Drake had asked what he would do with it if he ended up married to Madeleine and Liam had answered, “Then should she want it, it will be Jennifer’s alone. Though every day I pray we will live here together and raise our family as husband and wife.”
Grinning at the memory, Drake crosses the living room to the stairs and a glint of gold on one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace catches his eye. He sucks in a breath, stopping in his tracks when he recognizes the item responsible. The next moment has him standing in front of the shelves, with no recollection of walking over or picking up the antique compass he gave Liam as a wedding gift. The breath he’d been holding slowly releases from his lungs as he looks down at it, both shocked and not at all surprised Liam kept it on display. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he kept putting it away and Jennifer kept putting it back. Maybe he only recently…  Ah, hell, he’s putting a lot of thought into something that had probably been sitting there forgotten the whole time.
Setting it back on the shelf, he scrubs his hand down his face and turns around. He screams, throwing himself back into the wooden edges of the bookcase. Books fall around him as from the couch, Maxwell screams back at him, bolting up to a sitting position and dumping poor Chance onto the floor from where he’d been sleeping tucked against Maxwell’s chest. The dog runs around and around an armchair, barking his little head off as Liam and Jennifer’s second corgi darts behind the other chair, nails skittering across the floor as her paws try to find purchase on the wood.
As he stands there trying to catch his breath, Drake’s heart thumps against the palm he has pressed to his chest. “Jesus Christ, Maxwell! You trying to give me a heart attack?!”
“Me?!” Maxwell stares back with wild eyes, clutching the blanket tightly against his baby hippo tattoo. His hair is plastered to one side of his head and the rest is sticking up every which way. He looks like a madman. “You’re the intruder! I was just sleeping here, man!”
“I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Crouching down to the floor, Drake holds out his hand and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. Chance closes the few feet of distance between them, sniffing the proffered hand before nudging it with his nose to accept pets. “I just came to pack a bag for Liam and Jennifer.”
Maxwell releases his hold on the blanket and places his hands on the couch to either side of him as he leans forward. “Is she okay? Did you talk to her?”
“A little bit,” Drake replies, giving Chance belly rubs as he rolls over. “She was pretty out of it.”
“Is she okay though? All I know is she had surgery but what was wrong with her?” The manic look is back in his eyes and his words are coming out in a rush. “Liam is freaking out, isn’t he? Is Little Maxwell okay? Nobody tells me anything!”
Pressing his lips together, Drake lets out a slow breath through his nose as he stands. “Ok, one, even if it is a boy they’re not naming their baby Maxwell and two, I texted you like seven times.”
“You did?” Maxwell grabs his phone from the coffee table and smiles as he looks down at it. “Ha. I guess you did.”
Eyebrow quirked, Drake nods. “Yeah.”
“Shh! I’m reading…”
Drake rolls his eyes. “Alright, well, while you get caught up I’m gonna grab their stuff.” As Maxwell starts to get up from the couch, Drake holds up his hand and shakes his head. “No, I don’t need your help. It will go much quicker without you. You’ve got ten minutes to get dressed if you want to go back to the hospital with me.” Picking up the empty duffel bag, he walks away and makes it halfway up the stairs before adding, “And for God’s sake, do something with your hair.”
A half an hour later, Drake stands in the foyer with a more presentable Maxwell, both of them armed with a packed duffel bag slung over their shoulders. In Drake’s, Jennifer’s purse and phone, chargers, toiletries and a change of clothes for both of them. In Maxwell’s, a deck of cards, seven different novels, a stack of magazines, a corgi plushie, a teddy bear, and Jennifer’s pillow.
“Ok.” Drake turns to Maxwell and pins him with a stern expression. “Those vultures are going to be looking for info and until Liam or Jennifer decides otherwise, it’s none of their damn business. So, when we get out there, we move quickly and quietly. Do not talk to, smile at, laugh, wink or even so much as look at anyone. We do not engage. Understand?”
Maxwell nods once, firmly. “Act like Drake. Got it.”
Resisting the urge to go over the rules again, Drake opens the door just far enough to stick his head through, checking to make sure the hallway is empty before he steps into it. “Alright, let’s go.”
“So…” Maxwell says as he shuts the door behind him and falls in step beside Drake. “I know we’re not supposed to talk to anyone but, what if it’s like, Olivia or something?”
“Olivia isn’t here.”
“She didn’t come with you?”
“No.”
“How come?”    
Exasperated, Drake stops at the juncture of two hallways. “What part of quietly did you not understand?” Before Maxwell even has a chance to open his mouth, it feels like the air around them is sucked out of existence and a chill runs down Drake’s spine. He turns to the right, gazing down the long hallway to the door separating the residential wing from the rest of the palace and there she is, the one person he dreaded seeing most. Madeleine. Her cold, dead eyes narrow as their eyes lock and the chill turns into a full shudder like his body knows it’s in the presence of pure evil.
“We’ve been made!” Maxwell yelps, shocking Drake out of the spell the witch put on him.
Instinct kicks in and it only takes a split second for him to assess the situation. A mere twenty feet stands between them and the door to the garage. And while they are laden with the bags, Madeleine has three times the distance and a right turn to cover; and she’s wearing heels. “Run for it!” Drake shouts, grabbing onto Maxwell’s shoulder and giving him a shove as Madeleine steps forward. Hearing her shoes clacking against the marble floor as she chases after them, they sprint for the door like the devil is on their heels, because she is. He reaches it, heart racing and breathless as he pulls his keys from the front pocket of his jeans. With Maxwell bouncing nervously beside him, he fumbles with the ring, hands shaking as he finds the right key and slams it home. He flings the door open and rushes into the garage, only to be stopped by a strangled cry behind him. Whirling back around, he finds Maxwell, straining against the strap on his shoulder with panic in his eyes.
“Forget about me!” he shouts. “Save yourself!”
A deep, hearty laugh bursts from Drake’s lips, the first in a long time and damn if it doesn’t feel good. He rushes back to save his friend, checking behind him to see what the problem is. “You’re stuck on the doorknob. Quit pulling.”
“Help me!”
“I’m trying!” Drake laughs, finally getting Maxwell free as Madeleine rounds the corner. “Go! Go! Go!” Dragging Maxwell through the door, he slams it behind them and locks it, cutting off Madeleine as she yells something about acting like children.
Maxwell drops his bag and bends forward, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. “That… was close.”
“Yeah, no shit. Of all the people to find us.”
“Right?” Maxwell agrees. “Does she have a key?”
“I doubt it,” Drake shrugs. “I don’t think she’s driven herself anywhere in her life. Probably shouldn’t wait around for her to find one though.” Or for anyone else to stop them. All he has to do is stop to grab Liam some food, check-in with him and Jennifer when they drop off the bags and make it back to the palace with enough time to take a much-needed nap before Olivia arrives. The trick will be reigning Maxwell in, but Drake is not above leaving his ass there should he not know when it’s time to leave.
“Agreed,” Maxwell nods and picks up his bag. “Let’s roll, partner.”
From the palace to Seraphim’s diner, Maxwell was his usual self, but as they left with Liam’s lunch, his demeanor changed and it only got worse the closer they got to the hospital. By the time they were cleared through the secured side entrance and wound their way through the halls, he wasn’t talking at all and his steps were slow and deliberate like he was physically forcing himself to move forward.
Stepping onto the lift and hitting the button for the fifth floor, Drake tries once again to engage in conversation as the doors slide shut. “I wonder how long it will take the press to catch wind of this. I can’t believe they aren’t swarming the place already.”
Maxwell only nods in response, staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched. His breathing is ragged and coming too fast and he’s got the bag strap in a white-knuckled grip. The guy is not doing well at all, and Drake is afraid he’s either going to pass out or throw up; maybe both.
Drake grips Maxwell’s shoulder tightly, speaking in what he hopes is a soothing voice. “Hey, she’s okay.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Maxwell looks away and down at the floor, but not before Drake sees his lower lip tremble.
The lift comes to a stop and as the doors open, Drake gives Maxwell’s shoulder one more squeeze. “Come on. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”
“I’m umm…” Maxwell swallows hard, gesturing at the sitting area in front of them as they step out into the foyer. “I’m just going to wait out here.”
“She’s going to want to see you. You know that, right?”
Maxwell shrugs dejectedly and starts to head to one of the chairs.
Ah, hell. Maxwell may be the goofy, fun-loving optimist everyone knew, but those close to him know he’s one of the most caring, compassionate and empathetic people you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting. He’s the one who found Jennifer; sat with her before Liam got there when nobody knew what was happening and considering how much she means to him, it’s no wonder he’s having a hard time with seeing her again. Drake should have seen it coming and if he hadn’t isolated himself in Lythikos for so long, maybe he would have. “Give me the bag,” Drake tells him, holding out his hand. Maxwell hands it over, then turns away again without a word. “Room 505. Come in when you’re ready.”
One duffel slung over his shoulder and another with a white bag of greasy diner food balanced on top in his hand, Drake rounds the corner to Jennifer’s room. Halfway down the hall, he hears laughter coming from inside her room and relief washes over him, bringing with it a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in he doesn’t know how long. He nods to the two guards posted outside, thinking he should have brought them food as well as he lets himself into the room.
Jennifer is sitting up in bed, fresh-faced and her long brown hair pulled up into a ponytail with Liam perched at her side, their focus only on each other as they laugh. Hearing the doctor say the surgery went well, talking to her in her doped-up state, even Liam telling him the palace was still his home; none of those things compared to the sight of them together. Uninhibited, happy and carefree; like they’re supposed to be.
“Stop… stop… stop…” Jennifer pants, leaning over to place her hand on Liam’s forearm. “I just had surgery, you know!”
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Liam chuckles. “I had almost forgotten why we were here.”
Smiling, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes as Liam kisses the back of her hand. She glances over and seeing Drake, her smile widens. “Drake! You’re here! And you’re… moving in?”
“Ha-Ha.” Drake slips off the bag and places them both against the wall. He turns around, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache Maxwell’s heavy ass bag caused. “Half the hospital can hear you two cackling in here. What’s so funny?”
“Oh, Liam was telling me about what I did while I was coming off anesthesia. Apparently, I told the nurse I married good, not to get any ideas and that I was watching her.”
Liam nods, grinning like a fool. “Then she said, and I quote, ‘Just give it here. It’s cute and tight and I wanna touch it’ before grabbing my backside. And when I took her hand to stop the assault, she blew a raspberry at me, called me a ‘mean man’ and shouted, ‘I let you touch my butt whenever you want’.”
Drake raises his eyebrows. “Wow.”
“Whatever,” Jennifer shrugs, looking not the least bit embarrassed as she grabs a jello cup and spoon off the over-bed tray. “I feel like I’d do all those things without being under the influence of propofol. Oh! Check this out!” She holds out her arm, showing him a plastic contraption with two dangly bits taped to her skin. “It’s called a PICC line and it goes in here then snakes through my vein alllll the way up and stops near my heart. That way they don’t have to keep poking me for my antibiotics and stuff. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Fascinating.” Drake turns away, bending down to grab Liam’s food off the top of the duffel bag. “Here. Figured you’d be hungry.”
“What is that?” Jennifer licks her lips, her eyes following the bag as Drake passes it over her bed to Liam.
“Seraphim’s?” Liam asks.
“Of course, Seraphim’s,” Drake scoffs. “Like I’d get you a burger and fries from anywhere else.”
“Why…” Jennifer looks up at Drake, brow furrowed and her lips parted as she shakes her head, like she can’t comprehend what is happening. “Why would you bring yummy and delicious food from my favorite diner when I can’t eat anything?! I thought you were my friend!”
“Sorry,” Drake shrugs. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, one which he quickly covers with his palm so as not to anger the queen further. She can be scary when she wants to be.
“I can see you smiling!” She looks to Liam for support but the insulted look on her face changes to a scowl when she sees the fry halfway to his mouth.
“What?” Liam has the good sense to look guilty, but he still eats the fry. “I haven’t eaten since early yesterday.”
“Neither have I! Before that even!” she retorts, watching him chew. “Give me one.” She reaches for the bag and Liam pulls it away.
“No. You’re on a clear liquid diet for twenty-four hours. No exceptions.”
“Remember when I said you were a mean man? I stand by it.”
“I’m sorry, love,” Liam laughs. “But I won’t take the chance of you making yourself sick for a french fry. Follow the rules today and if all goes well, tomorrow we will get you whatever you want. Though I am glad to see you seem to be getting your appetite back.”
She lets out a whiny groan and slumps back against her pillow, pouting as she rips the top off her container of lime jello and throws it aggressively onto the tray. “It’s not even a good flavor.” The jello makes an unpleasant squelch as she digs the spoon in.
“Which flavor do you like better?” Liam asks. “I’ll get it for you.”
“Red.” Swallowing a spoonful, she shivers in disgust. “Blech.”
“Red is a color, not a flavor,” Drake points out. The look he receives from her in response is unpleasant, to say the least, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Never mind.”
“Ok, how about this,” Jennifer looks at Liam with a hopeful expression. “Let me smell the bag while I eat, and that way, it will taste like real food.”
Drake grimaces. “I feel like that may be going too far and it’s very weird.”
“Says the guy who can eat whatever he wants,” she grumbles at the jello.
“You are adorable,” Liam smiles fondly at her. “While you’re free to… sniff my food anytime you wish, I’m not sure that’s going to work. I also don’t trust you not to snatch it as soon as my guard is down.” That gets a laugh out of her and when Liam catches Drake’s eye across the bed, he smiles.
“You know what? That is a completely valid point,” she sighs dramatically, digging back into her ‘meal’. “At least this is better than the so-called chicken broth you made me finish. Saltwater was more like it.”
There’s a tentative knock on the door and Jennifer sets the cup down as they all look to see who it is. Maxwell enters, looking more disheveled than when they arrived but less than when Drake woke him up. Like he had run his hand through his hair a few too many times while psyching himself up to come in. He lingers by the door, wringing his hands together as his eyes move to Drake, then Liam, and finally Jennifer. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he wraps his arms around himself as tears fill his eyes and Drake follows his line of sight to see Jennifer’s reaction.
The greeting she was undoubtedly about to give dies on her lips and her face crumbles, eyes glistening with tears of her own as she holds out her arms. Without a word, Liam stands from the bed and Drake steps back as Maxwell closes the distance between him and Jennifer to burrow himself into her embrace.
She cradles him in her arms, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other rubbing his shoulders as they shake with sobs. “I’m okay, Maxwell,” she whispers. “I’m okay.”
“I was so scared,” Maxwell hiccups into her hair. “I thought you were going to die.”
“I know.” She blinks and tears roll down her cheeks. “But you found us. You saved our lives, Maxwell. You don’t have to worry anymore. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Liam swallows hard, trying and failing to hold in his emotions as he watches the exchange. “We’ll give you two some privacy.”
Jennifer looks up at him with a shaky smile, nodding her head and mouthing the words ‘Thank you’.
Liam gives her thigh a gentle squeeze, then looks at Drake and tips his head towards the door.
“Might want to grab that bag,” Drake tells him, gesturing at the food Liam set down when he stood. Behind Maxwell’s head, Jennifer gives him the finger.
Picking it up, Liam follows Drake to the door, speaking low enough only he can hear as they exit into the hallway. “I believe you are correct. For the sake of my marriage, I think it’s best I eat elsewhere.”
Drake laughs in agreement but as the seconds tick by, an awkward silence falls between them. He wants to know what the doctors have said; is she really going to be okay, is the medication working, but it isn’t his place to ask anymore. No, he’ll just stand here with his hands in his pockets, not knowing how to mend the bridge that’s been burnt between him and his brother.
“They said her white blood cell count continues to decrease.” Now that Liam’s away from Jennifer, the lines of stress and anxiety he had before have returned to his face. “It’s too soon to tell, but so far they’ve been able to stop the infection.”
Relieved, Drake sighs. “That’s good. And she’s obviously feeling better.”
“How much of that is the medication, though?” Liam asks, walking a few feet down the hall. “She’s on anti-nausea meds, morphine for the pain… they’re pumping antibiotics straight into her bloodstream three times a day. She’s worried about how it will all affect the baby but without it…” He shakes his head, unable to finish the thought and scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this.”
“Come on, Liam, we’re brothers. There’s no apology needed.”
Liam huffs out a humorless laugh, one corner of his mouth twitching. “I have much to apologize for, Drake.”
“Yeah, me too.” Looking down at the floor, Drake shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as the silence stretches between them again. “You better go eat. It’s probably ice cold by now.”
“There’s a microwave down the hall.”
“Oh,” Drake nods. He takes his hands out of his pockets, starts to put them back in and rubs the back of his neck instead. Say something. Do something. Anything. Just stop fidgeting. “I’m gonna go get some coffee. Want me to bring you some?”
“Sure. Thank you.” The grin on Liam’s face quickly melts away as his eyes narrow slightly and the hint of a furrow forms between his brows. It’s a look Drake has seen on his face countless times. He’s contemplating something and isn’t sure how to proceed; or if he should. To save him the trouble, Drake turns away, only making it a couple of steps when Liam speaks again. “Drake?”
He turns back around to look at Liam. “Yeah?”
Liam swallows nervously and glances to the side then takes a deep breath and looks Drake in the eye. “There are things I need to say but with everything going on… maybe once she’s back home and settled you and I can sit down and have the discussion we should have had months ago. If you’re agreeable to it, of course.”
Drake nods. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” Flashing a relieved grin, Liam lifts the bag of food. “I’m going to…”
“Yeah, go eat. I’ll see you in a few.” Drake watches as Liam walks back towards Jennifer’s room, his gait somewhat easier and the set of his shoulders lighter as he stops to talk to Bastien and the other guards. The captain catches Drake’s eye and they give each other a firm nod before Drake turns to leave, both excited and nervous as all hell for the conversation that’s been a long time coming.
Two hours later, after watching Maxwell catalog everything he brought, listening to him complain about Drake not letting him pack Monopoly and a chess set, and saying goodbye to Liam and Jennifer, Drake finally returns to his quarters. Opening the door, he finds Olivia, sitting straight-backed in one of his armchairs with her hands in her lap and her legs pressed together. “Hey,” he greets her, closing the door behind him. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”
“You’d be back eventually,” Olivia shrugs. “How is she?”
“Much better than she was.” He tosses his keys onto the small table beside the door and walks over to the couch, sinking into it with a groan. “Liam said she’s on a bunch of meds but so far they’ve stopped the infection. Nothing to do but wait I suppose, but she looks good. A little whiny and dramatic but for the most part, she was acting like herself.”
“Good.” Olivia pauses, running her hands down her thighs to smooth non-existent wrinkles from her black leggings. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He leans forward, sighing as he threads his fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you’re pissed about the way I’ve been handling things with Liam and with us but…”
She holds up her hand, palm facing forward as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Drake, stop.”
“Let me finish.” Scooting closer to her, he takes her hand, cradling it in both of his. “I should have come to the picnic with you, shouldn’t have shut you down every time you tried to convince me of what an ass I was being. All you were trying to do was get me to fix things with Liam and I should have listened to you. Because you were right, I was scared. I was scared of facing him and I was scared of opening myself up again and that’s why I held myself back with you. But I’m done with all of it.” He takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart and squeezes her hand until her gorgeous green eyes meet his. “You’re beautiful and capable, sweeter than you pretend to be and you scare the shit out of me. You drive me crazy but damn it, I love you. I love you, Olivia. I’ve loved you for a long time and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
She gasps, staring at him with wide eyes and her lips parted as she slowly shakes her head. “That’s not what I wanted to…”
“Not what you wanted to hear?”
“No! No, I…” She releases a shuddering breath, and her gaze falls to where her hand is trembling in his. “I have something to tell you.”
Cold dread sweeps across the back of his neck and instinctively, he pulls away. “What is it?” he asks, not wanting to hear the answer but needing to all the same. She opens her mouth to speak, three, four times before closing it again and when their eyes lock, he sees a vulnerability he hasn’t seen from her since they were kids. Whatever it is, she’s afraid to tell him and that fact alone makes him snap, “For God’s sake, spit it out, woman!”
Anger flashes in her eyes and she purses her lips, looking like if she had a knife in her hand he’d be bleeding on the floor. “Congratulations. You’re going to be a father.”
***********************
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macademilk · 4 years
Text
Okay! So I started this over a month ago and then life kicked me in the balls and now here we are.
This is completely inspired by @recollins AMAZING Criminal Minds fic “Something Like A Star” (x) Aria lives in my mind rent free.
I know in my heart of hearts that the Connor reveal is going to be super angsty and bad things will happen so here’s this instead.
If you notice that I changed tenses no you didn't 💖
Warnings for a panic attack and Skeevy Jerkface.
*EDIT: formatting & fixed the italics
-
Aria smiled as she stepped out of the elevator, and was practically skipping as she entered the bullpen. She’d had a productive weekend, and she could already tell it would be greatly appreciated. She couldn’t help but grin as she saw Derek's head pop up from where he was hunched over at his desk.
“Are those muffins I smell?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.
“Apple cinnamon”, she confirmed “You get one until everyone else has had one too”. He was like a bloodhound, the way he could sense baked goods from across the room. Aria knew he’d inhale all of them if given the chance.
She walked over to the collection of desks, balancing the container in one hand and reaching into her bag with the other. 
“Woah there! Precious cargo.” exclaimed Derek as he rushed forward to snatch the box from where it was wobbling on her shaking hand.
“Thanks,” Aria bobbed her head slightly in thanks as she tugged out a much smaller container with only a single muffin inside. She placed it on Spencer’s desk with a smile, “There you go.”
He smiled up at her in return and took the box between his hands, “Grazie”.
“Pazhalusta,” Aria responded in Russian, her smile widening as she played with the edge of her skirt. It almost hurt to look him in the eye but at the same time she so desperately didn’t want to miss a second of it.
She hoped she wasn’t blushing too badly, and pointedly ignored what she was sure was Derek’s eyebrows attempting to wiggle off his face. 
“Oh, nice” said Emily as she appeared from the direction of the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, “Gimme.”
Derek grabbed a muffin out of the container and held it out to her, barking a laugh when she reached past the offered muffin to grab one he hadn’t touched. 
“So,” started Emily, taking a bite “What’s the occasion?”
Aria shrugged slightly, propping herself on the edge of Spencer’s desk, “I was just in the mood”.
“In the mood, huh?” Derek’s eyebrows were going to fall right off at this rate.
Aria scowled as she kicked out at him, “Not like that!” She was gratified when she hit her target, making him take a hasty step back, out of kicking range. Serves him right. “What did you do this weekend then?” 
She immediately regretted asking when he put the container down beside her so he had his hands free as he started regaling them with the details of his date, taking bites of his muffin as he went. Apparently, it went really really well.
“I don’t know how you have the time,” complained Emily, “I don’t remember the last time I went on a date.”
Aria hummed slightly in agreement, breaking off a bit of her own muffin and popping it in her mouth.
“Dating’s supposed to be part of the student experience.” Derek pointed out slyly “Maybe I should set you up.” Aria nearly choked as she shook her head furiously, looking at Derek wide-eyed. What was he playing at?
“I’m sure Aria can get her own dates,” interjected Spencer softly “If she wants.” Aria turned and gave him a grateful smile. He gave her a slightly startled one in return. Pink-cheeked, he looked about as embarrassed as she felt.
“I’m curious now,” Derek teased, only looking encouraged when Emily shoved at his shoulder.
“Don’t be.” 
“Come on, gremlin,” Derek grinned as he reached forward “Any torrid love affairs?”
Aria slapped his hand away from the muffin container with a scowl.
“None of your business!”
“Now now” said Emily, taking a sip of her coffee “If Aria is embarrassed about her highschool boyfriend-”
“Ugh, I do not want to hear about Skeevy JerkFace so early in the morning!” exclaimed Penelope as she marched into the bullpen, a precarious stack of files in her arms. She nodded toward the box of muffins as she beelined past them, “Save some of those for me, I’ll be right back!”. The pile of papers in her arms teetered slightly as she made her way up towards Hotch’s office in a turquoise whirlwind.
Aria could feel all the blood in her body rushing to her head and took a deep breath as her vision blurred around the edges. 
“Skeevy Jerkface?” Spencer asked softly. He’d turned toward her and was staring at her with his stupidly beautiful eyes.
There was a small, choked off noise and Aria wondered where it came from, her head spinning. It was like she had just gone and vacated her body, or tried to at least but a little piece got stuck and was watching on in horror.
“Aria?” Spencer again, he was frowning up at her where she sat perched on the edge of his desk. It was getting hard to breathe. The noise earlier must have been her, Aria thought distantly.
A hand settled on her thigh, warm and heavy and she couldn’t help the full body flinch that sent her falling back.
“Sorry, I-” She righted herself on shaky legs, and tried to unstick her tongue. It seemed to fill her mouth so fully she thought she might choke on it.
Spencer was staring at her wide eyed, his hands clutched close to his chest like he’d been burned.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” the words tumbled from her mouth before she’d even had time to think and she turned tail and fled, side stepping Derek on her way. 
Hurrying into the bathroom Aria let out a sigh of relief when she found it empty. As she locked herself in a stall she couldn’t help the stream of tears that started, her breath catching on every inhale. This was not how she wanted the team to find out about Connor.
Hiccuping slightly she tried to control her breathing, taking small gasping breaths as she tried to bring herself out of her hyperventilating panic. She’d probably need to fix her make up. That’s what she’d do, fix her make up then go out there and explain. Everything would be fine. She’s got this.
As she pushed open the stall door the bathroom door opened and she slammed the door shut again before she could see who it was. Heels clicked hesitantly against the floor and Aria leaned her head against the cool wood of the stall door. She absolutely hasn’t got this.
“Aria?” JJ called out softly and she stubbornly resisted the urge to start crying again.
“Emily came to get me. Are you alright?”
Steeling herself she forced out an “I’m fine,” which may have almost been believable if her voice hadn’t cracked miserably in the middle.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” JJ said wryly. 
Sniffling slightly Aria huffed a laugh, it was small and slightly pathetic but it helped her begin to feel human again. She breathed and let all her weight press forward until she was only being supported by her head against the door. JJ doesn’t say anything else. Her shoes squeak on the floor and there’s a shuffle of fabric but then it’s quiet. The two of them are silent except for their breathing, existing together in the BAU bathroom.
When the squeezing pressure around her heart leaves her and she feels the sweat on the back of her neck cool Aria opens the stall door. JJ is leaning on the edge of the sink and she smiles kindly at her as she emerges.
“I’m really-” Aria swallows, she’s spent so much time apologising, “Thank you”. 
“It’s no trouble,” JJ says and Aria is grateful in a way she’s not sure JJ can even understand but it’s okay because she doesn’t have to.
She winces at her appearance as she catches sight of her reflection from over JJ’s shoulder. She looks a mess; the black smudges under her bloodshot eyes highlight how pale she is.
“Did Emily tell you?” she asks as she steps up to the sink to wash away the remains of her panic attack, “About, y’know..”
“Doesn’t seem like there was a lot to tell,” JJ replies softly, grabbing some paper towel for Aria to wipe her face with. JJ watches as she puts herself back together, her eyebrows creased in the way they do when she’s worried.
“Are you safe?” She asks finally, “We won’t make you talk if you’re not ready, but if you’re not safe then I really think you should tell Hotch.” Their gazes meet in the mirror.
“I will,” She promises, eyes still red.
As they leave Aria is startled to find Emily standing outside the bathroom door. She’s glowering so hard she still manages to look intimidating while eating a muffin. When she catches sight of them her expression calms, sharing a look with JJ before smiling at Aria. 
“Are you ready to go back?” she asks “I can make a distraction if we need to plan a getaway”. 
“I think I’ll manage” she replies with a small laugh.
“If you’re sure. I was ready to fake your death.”
As they start walking back an annoyed looking woman races past them, only sparing a sour glare for Emily before slamming through the bathroom door. 
“What was her problem?” wondered Aria.
“No clue,” shrugged Emily sauntering ahead, “She must have really needed to go”.
-x-
Back in the bullpen Spencer and Derek are still by Spencer’s desk only now they’re standing, brows furrowed as they have a hushed conversation with Hotch. He’s the first to see her and she freezes when they make eye contact. She’d just promised she’d talk to him but seeing him makes her clam up again. She trusts him and Connor called her work phone; there should be no reason not to tell him but there’s still fear nagging away at the back of her brain. Hotch says something else, stony faced, which makes Derek and Spencer glance at her before moving away in the direction of the kitchen. Hotch frowns, and Aria realises that she still hasn’t moved. She’s stuck, her brain willing her feet to move but they don’t seem to want to listen. JJ places a hand on her elbow, a gentle encouragement, and urges Aria forward.
“Hi,” she says, ridiculously nervous. The crease between Hotch’s eyebrows deepens as he looks her over.
“I’d like to talk to you about something,” she tells him “If you’re not busy.”
He looks surprised, the corner of his mouth twitching and Aria bites back a smile.
They go to his office and it takes her a while but she tells him everything. Tells him about the doubt and the fear and the phone calls. She cries a bit more and Hotch listens to her and he believes her.
“I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier,”
Hotch shakes his head, “You told me now, that’s what’s important. We’ll keep you safe Aria.”
He says it like he says everything, with conviction. Still, she’s comforted by just how much she trusts him. Her life has only improved in the time he’s been in it.
He has phone calls to make and Aria leaves after only hugging him once which feels wrong but she’s sure she’ll make up for it in the coming weeks. That man is getting so many hugs. 
Everyone’s working away at their desks, taking turns watching the door of Hotch’s office so she’s spotted immediately when she leaves. There’s a lot of pointed paperwork-shuffling and Aria rolls her eyes. For a group of profilers they’re not particularly subtle.
“All good, kid?” It’s Derek who breaks the silence once she makes it down the stairs, and despite his light tone he looks serious, like when they’re on a case.
“Better than you at least,” she says, feeling pleased when it gets a laugh out of him. “I’ll go make some drinks”.
She’s just put the kettle on to boil when someone else enters the kitchen, her heart racing when she sees who it is. Spencer’s got his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself smaller. 
“I’m rea-”
“I’m so-”
He gestures for her to go first, face burning. 
She makes herself look at him, no matter how shy she’s feeling. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier.”
“No! Don’t be!” Spencer hastens to reply “it’s a completely understandable reaction. Trauma can-” at her raised eyebrow he ducks his head sheepishly. “Garcia explained. No details or anything! She uh,” he clears his throat “She’s really sorry.”
“Where is she anyway?” Aria hadn’t seen Penelope at all since earlier that morning and although it wasn’t uncommon for her to be tucked away in her office they usually spent time together, and after what had happened Aria wanted to talk to who was probably her best friend. She was upset with her, of course, but when she’s upset talking to Penelope usually makes her feel better.
“She went to her office. I think she wanted to give you space in case you were mad”
Aria nods slowly.
“I’m sorry too,” Spencer continues, voice soft “I startled you earlier”.
“You did,” Aria acknowledges “You didn’t mean to though, I know that”. 
He watches her as she puts everyone’s drinks together, smiling when she hands him his tea.
“If you, if you ever wanted to talk, I’m here to listen” he tells her and Aria ducks her head, shy and embarrassed all over again.
“Not today but I think I’ll take you up on that,” they share a smile and Spencer insists on helping her carry everything out to the bullpen.
After all but one of the drinks have been distributed Aria grabs a muffin from the abandoned container on Derek’s desk and goes to see Penelope. She thinks she’s got this after all.
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thollandthot · 5 years
Text
woman like that part 2; tom holland x harrison osterfield
a/n: dang. took me long enough, right ?? but here is the second part of woman like that !! i feel like this one kind of drags, but i promise the next part will be MUCH better ;) feel free to message me with any feedback, and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list !!
word count: ~2.5k pairing: harrison osterfield x reader, potentially tom holland x reader… i guess we’ll find out. warnings: pining and infatuation. perhaps unrequited love. guilt and inner turmoil, and lots of it.
CLICK HERE TO READ PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO READ PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO READ PART THREE.
WOMAN LIKE THAT
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As the California sun began to set, Tom and Harrison left to pick Y/N up for the night. Their destination? Dave and Busters; by her request, of course. And since Harrison was already whipped for the poor girl, Tom was outnumbered. Not that he minded, though. Because perhaps Dave and Busters would be a good change of scenery for him. It was actually pretty low-key, all things considered. The lights were dim, making it more difficult to recognize Tom’s face, and you could still get a decent drink there. And, of course, Y/N wanted to win a stuffed animal, so win a stuffed animal, she shall.
Pulling up to her apartment felt like a scene out of a romantic comedy. Mere moments after Harrison texted her that they were out front she had appeared, and it became clear that she looked good in anything she wore. She donned a different ensemble from what she had worn earlier that afternoon — denim shorts with a cozy oversized sweater, accompanied by a pair of sneakers — and she still looked just as adorable as she the first time Tom had saw her. The two friends stood to greet her, but of course her first priority was her boyfriend, and that was clear when she gave the blond a face-splitting smile and wrapped her arms around his frame in a tight embrace. Harrison’s expression mimicked her own when he returned the squeeze.
They really were happy together.
Her attention diverted to Tom when she gave him a smile, which was shy but just as heartfelt as she gave him a quick squeeze. He wished it had lasted longer.
And she’s watching him with those eyes. And she’s loving him with that body, I just know it. And he’s holding her in his arms, late, late at night...
In order to respect the new couple, Tom sat in the back seat on the drive to Dave and Buster’s, forced to watch them interact with each other. Of course, it served as good research for Tom to see how well Y/N treated his best friend, and vice versa, but it also only fortified how badly Tom wanted something like that for himself. And, specifically, how badly he wanted it with someone like her.
Their hands were laced together, placed delicately over top of the car’s center console, and Harrison would give her hand a squeeze every few moments, as if to remind her silently that he was thinking about her. They’d mumble little inside jokes to each other before giggling for a few moments and then going back to their comfortable silence. Tom tried not to sigh too audibly, but it had been a while since he had some form of affection to call his own. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone, cuddled with someone, memorized every dip and curve of their body before heading off to film, in hopes he wouldn’t forget. He couldn’t remember the last time he had made love to someone.
Because Tom was too much of a romantic for his own good, and his career often got into the middle of that. Which was one of the many reasons he had been so touch-starved as of late. Perhaps that was why his mind began to wander. It couldn’t be helped, really. His first thought replaced Harrison with himself, Tom’s hand laced with Y/N’s as they drove, her big, beautiful eyes watching him adoringly, and occasionally he would return the look of infatuation for a moment before proceeding to keep his eyes on the road. The thoughts got progressively more inappropriate from there, and before his mind could go anywhere too far off limits, his best friend’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“You alright, mate?” Harrison asked, making eye contact through the rear view mirror.
Tom nodded, even though he was very clearly not alright. He actually felt incredibly guilty. “Yeah. Just tired.” He tried to grin before Y/N took off her seatbelt, turning in her seat to give Tom a grin. It made his heart skip a beat.
“Then you’ll both have to win me something quick, huh?” She opened the passenger side door with ease, stepping out, and it was only then that Tom realized that he spent the entire car ride daydreaming.
Harrison exited the vehicle and Tom followed suit, eyes glazed over, making it apparent that he was still in a post-daydream haze. Haz pivoted on his heel, furrowing his brows in his best friend’s direction, a look of concern on his face. “You sure you’re alright?”
Tom feebly attempted to nod at the blond reassuringly. Luckily, Tom was a good actor, and Haz took his word for it. Harrison exhaled in relief, purposefully staying a few yards behind his girlfriend as she walked, wanting to speak to his best mate privately.
“Here’s the plan: I’m gonna get us all drinks and you can spend some time alone with her.” That pulled Tom right out of his thoughts, a bewildered expression on his face. Why would Harrison want him to spend time alone with his girlfriend? “Just want you to get to know her. One on one, yaknow? Like the way I know her.”
Alright, so maybe Tom could understand that. After all, he wanted to give his best friend his unbiased opinion on this girl, so getting different perspectives could be beneficial.
Or it could be absolutely terrible, and make this a hell of a lot harder.
“Hey, slowpokes!” Y/N called from across the parking lot, raising up on her toes and waving her arms so she’d be visible, even though there weren’t any cars in sight to block their view of her frame. “If you wanted to go on a date by yourselves, you should’ve just told me!” Even from a few yards away, Tom could see her smirk and hear her snicker at her own joke. Some people might’ve found that incredibly obnoxious, but Tom enjoyed being in the company of someone who could laugh at themselves. Clearly, Harrison was the same.
The two boys jogged a few paces to catch up with Y/N, Harrison giving his girlfriend a chaste peck on the lips before going off in his own direction. Y/N turned to face Tom, her features still shy and hesitant. If it weren’t for the dim lighting, it would’ve been easier for Tom to decipher whether or not she was blushing. He decided, in the end, that she wasn’t, because it would be far too endearing if she was.
She took a few steps towards the arcade, allowing Tom to follow suit. “So, what’s your game of choice?” She asked with an arched brow, turning her head so she could face him every few moments as they walked. 
Tom tried his hardest to shove down any possible emotions he felt while looking her in the eyes. He couldn’t flirt with her, and frankly, he shouldn’t have WANTED to flirt with her. Nevertheless, he found it difficult to not say something cheeky, so he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. Smooth move, Holland. 
Clearly, Y/N didn’t seem to notice Tom’s change in demeanor (this was their first time alone together, so perhaps she just didn’t know any better), continuing the conversation as usual. “Something tells me you’d be good at that punching thing. You know, where you hit the punching bag and they give you a score? Or those old fashion ones where you hit the thing with a mallet and try to ring a bell,” she pursed her lips, snapping her fingers as if willing an answer to come to her head. She smiled, “test your strength! That’s what it’s called!”
Tom stifled a chuckle, taking a deep breath as he remembered his mission: to see if this girl was good enough for Harrison. Of course, he couldn’t do that if he was stiff as a board all night, at least, that’s what Tom said to himself to ease the guilt of potentially getting a bit too friendly with her. He just had to remember his boundaries. “You know I’m not actually Spider-Man, right, l—“ Tom coughed at the end, resisting the urge to call her one of his infamous terms of endearment, even though she was already calling him Tommy. This had to remain professional. Platonic, at best.
Y/N tossed her head back in a laugh, shoving lightly at Tom’s shoulder upon hearing his response. Was what he said even that funny? Maybe. Tom didn’t think so. “Oh, believe me, Tommy. I know. Tobey will forever be my favorite Spider-Man.” She was clearly being sarcastic. It was just a bit of banter. Cheeky banter, but banter, all the same. Tom liked a girl that could crack a joke every once in a while. Wait. HARRISON liked a girl that could crack a joke. This wasn’t about Tom (it never should have been in the first place). Tom feigned a hurt expression before she continued.
“It’s nothing personal. I’ve just seen your movies and you’re pretty damn awful.” She deadpanned before shooting Tom a wink.
Wait a minute. Was SHE flirting? That wasn’t fair. Although, Harrison did say this girl was a fan, so Tom already knew she wasn’t serious, but the wink made him stumble a bit. 
Perhaps that was just her personality. Tom could see that. In fact, it was kind of attractive how comfortable she was talking to not only a guy she had just met, but Tom, of all people. Perhaps she was feeling just as awkward as he was and was merely trying to break the tension. Either way, it was something Tom would keep in the back of his mind going forward. Whether or not it was a concern would become apparent eventually. And before Tom could say anything about it, Y/N had changed the subject.
“Alright. How about the claw machine? I’ll probably try like six times before I get angry, then you can give it a go?” She stopped in front of one of the claw machine games up against the wall, giving Tom an expectant look. Her eyes widened, almost as if she assumed he would say no. Who was he to deny this girl her joy?
Tom grinned, and to him, it was blatantly obvious that it was forced. “By all means.”
She smiled, the corners of her eyes scrunching and her nose wrinkling; another full faced smile. It made Tom’s heart pound heavily in his chest, knowing she was that excited over something so small. Tom was like that, too. He tried to enjoy the little things. She gestured to the other side of the game, “Will you stand on the side and help me line up?” 
He nodded, standing at attention before giving her a salute, jogging off to the other side of the claw machine. Tom mentally slapped himself. A salute? Seriously? What the hell was wrong with him? She was just a girl. A pretty girl, but an off limits girl. He should not be this nervous about talking to her, nor trying to impress her. That was Harrison’s job. 
Nevertheless, Tom found himself watching her instead of the crane, like he was supposed to be. The flickering carnival lights made her eyes sparkle with a childlike gleam as she scanned through the different teddy bears, weighing her options and deciding which one she wanted, or rather, which one she had the best chance of getting. 
She slid in enough quarters for her first try before popping back up, hands wrapped daintily around the joystick. She squinted, lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on getting the claw in the perfect position. Her brows furrowed and her eyes squinted. Wow, she really wanted a teddy bear. 
After a few moments of her attempting to line up the claw with her chosen teddy bear, Y/N glanced over at Tom, who already had his eyes on her. “What do you think? Does it look good from over there.”
I bet you look good from every angle. That was Tom’s first thought that threatened to leave his mouth. Of course he didn’t say it, but he thought it. Which honestly might’ve been just as bad. Tom tore his gaze from his best friend’s girlfriend, examining where she had the claw positioned overtop the teddy bears. “Looks good.” Tom finally spoke with a grin, and with his permission, Y/N pushed the big red button to lower the claw, and she watched in anticipation as it grasped the teddy bear, only to have the stuffed animal fall out of its grasp once in the air.
Her brows creased and she frowned in disappointment, but it didn’t last long, because soon Harrison was sneaking up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into her neck. The blond blew a raspberry into the crook between his girlfriend’s neck and her shoulder, effectively making her squeal in surprise. She spun around, a wide beaming smile plastered on her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They looked at each other like they were the only people in the world.
Tom felt nauseous.
After a few moments of the couple exchanging “I missed you”s and filling Harrison in on their failed efforts to win a stuffed teddy bear, the blond turned to Tom, who gave a meek smile. This was quite possibly the most uncomfortable Tom had ever felt in his best mate’s presence, and Harrison had seen some incredibly private things no best friend should ever see. Haz cleared his throat.
“I got us a table, if we wanna have some drinks, yeah?” His attention diverted back to his girlfriend for a brief moment, as if looking for her approval, as well. “And we can try again after?”
Y/N nodded eagerly, unraveling herself from her boyfriend’s grasp before leading the two best friends back from the arcade. 
“How’s it going?” Harrison mumbled to Tom, frosty blue eyes hopeful. The poor guy really wanted his best friend to like his new girlfriend. And of course Tom liked her, but he’d never say just how much he liked her. He valued their friendship too much, really. Tom would rather take this crush -- this infatuation -- to the grave than ruin that.
Tom rested what was hopefully a comforting hand on his best mate’s shoulder, giving it a pat. “She’s great, mate. Really. I’m happy for the two of you.” And unfortunately for Tom, none of the words he spoke were a lie.
Yeah, perhaps they all could use a drink.
---
@tom-hollands-eyelash​ / @ophcelia​ / @tiny-parker​ / @jackiehollanderr​ / @starlightfound​ / @unholyhaz / @agirlwithpointlessideas​ / @i-love-superhero​ / @dylanrauhl​ / @triviaisabop​ / @awkwardfangirl2014​ / @adayasgeorgia​ / @lucychg​ / @maybemona​ / @antoouu​ / @appleciderpimp​ / @littlebluewoods​ / @ajxlawley​ / @mwitsmejk / @charli-xy​ / @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ / @osterfield-holland-andcompany​ / @yourwonderbelle​ / @peterparkoure​ / @robbinholland​ / @hazmyheart​
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madmadmilk · 5 years
Text
Like  Dark Chocolate Part 7 | Tom Holland x Reader (FINALLY)
IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING, BUT WE’RE BACK IN THE GAME BABEYYY. Thank u for waiting so patiently~ it literally took like 6 months lol pls be kind ((pics not mine))
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READ THE TEASER FIRST | PART 1 | PART 2| PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | (Updates next week?)
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: You can’t help but fall into something familiar, something warm, something you deserve. He’s been waiting for you while you’ve been wondering. They say time heals all wounds, but the real question is, how much time does it take to even believe you’ve healed?
Warning: Swearing, sweating, and something like forgiveness
Word Count: 10.8K petals on the floor
Special thank you to some of my lovely BETAs: @fangirl-writer-awesomeness @laucontrerasv @spidey-waffles11 (and honestly anyone who sent asks looking for this. thank you)
-
“Same old Tom.”
Your head tilts as you look into those familiar chocolatey browns. You can see the arrow run straight through his heart. It’s the first time he’s hearing your voice say his name in a month. And it’s one of the few times you’ve let yourself say it out loud.
There’s a familiar taste that coats your mouth.
I don’t want to admit it but––
A shallow breath catches in your throat, a faint smile on your lips. You just can’t hold it back anymore, old feelings threatening to spill over.
I do miss you, Tom.
They were never really forgotten.
Just a little bit.
And well, you could never hide it from yourself.
You fight the smile on you dry lips from widening, you fight the warm flush ferociously crawling up your chest, you fight every urge in your body from jumping up to wrap yourself up and all around him.
You missed him.
And the bare sight of him is enough to drive you mad.
“It’s been a long time.”
“It has been,” you reply curtly, eating up the sight before you. He was dressed in a rush, slouchy, ruffled but smelling like a cosy detergent and sexy shampoo. The giddy smile has never left his lips.
The space between you both is maddening, easy to be made close, easy to pull further apart.
Your fingers twitch by your sides.        
Ha.
He probably can’t even remember the text he sent you–– “Blink 3 times if you miss me,” how the hell would you count how many times a person blinks? We do it all the time? When does the clock run––
But, Tom… Tom gets it. Of course he does.
1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.1, 2, 3.
A devilish grin stretches across his boyish face, an overwhelming excitement vibrating through him. He stood taller, shoulders hunched up as he leaned forward. It was a short victory he would hold against you and then it evenly faded into a relieved smile. The corners of his brows pull down as he lets out a soft sigh. You can hear the click of his tongue. His shoulders slump in satisfaction, and cheeks pinken as if his whole body being was saying, “thank god, thank god.”
He finally has your attention, better, at your admission.
His quiet voice confirms,
“So you have been reading the things I’ve sent you,” whispering now, “And listening?”
Haha.
You give him a blank stare, but inadvertently stretch your lips from smile to pucker to smile. You’re trying not to give him anything more than your telling blinks. You’re not going to make yourself anymore vulnerable, any more needy, any more…. generous. This was already too much.
But the silence gives him one more confirmation; tells him that you still think of him, at least enough to let him think you do. And this circular rationale reminds you of just how much of a sweet lil cavity he is.
An aching pain you can’t ignore.
He nods, wiggling his jaw while his eyes dance over your shoulders to your nose and back to your eyes,
“Good to know.”
Oh, hell.
Tom’s confidence comes and goes as he laughs to himself, only to flush in embarrassment. Neither of you can keep your composure. Both of your minds roll over all the little things he’s said in the messages and that’s more than enough to fill the remaining gap between you.
You feel like you know almost everything he’s feeling right now.
Almost, almost.
He clears his throat, scratching his head and bowing down,
“Listen, I–I really didn’t expect to see you at all. For the while. It’s just that Mal messaged me about an emergency, just saying that it was you and––“
“It was me. I sent it,” you clarify, not wanting to smear any more blame on your ill neighbor. Hadn’t she had enough? Questionably.
“I used her phone.”
“Oh,” he laughs emptily. You see his entire face sink in guilt. He scratches his head a little harder, trying to piece it together.
“She practically begged me to get your attention and she––“ he hums to your truth, “She showed it to me. I… I saw the messages she sent to you.”
Tom freezes, and drops his hand. He searches for an answer in your eyes. His blinks are slow, and the deep stare makes you all too aware.
Suddenly, you wonder if that was a breach of his privacy, if his healing should have been done alone. If you had stepped into a part of him you weren’t meant to see.
You step forward, putting your hands up.
“Sorry! Uhm, she… She let me read what she sent you, at the end… end of it all,” an uneasy chuckle falls past your lips, “She left your conversation open… and yeah, I saw a little bit. I think she was apologizing to me with it… or something like that.”
He nods, stare looking past you now, far away. He mutters under his breath,
“I’m still waiting for one too.”
And now you felt the restlessness of guilt; maybe it was a breach of trust. You squeeze your eyes tight for a second, trying to reorganize yourself, trust this and trust that. You’re getting tangled deeper into problems you were trying so hard to move past, smooth past.
The truth is all you have left.
You offer him a way out of the storm, praising softly,
“At the very least, I want to say thank you… for uhm, letting me know you were coming.”
His brows twitch into a furrow before he smiles gently, his cheek pulling.  His hands were itching to reach out, to hold you. And, honestly, if he did… you wouldn’t resist too hard. Maybe.
“Of course,” Tom confirms so lovingly. In that short phrase you can hear the tumbling of his feelings, the way he had to hold back from spilling his heart out and taking all of you in his arms, up and away from this cursed apartment.
But you both hear the echo of your own words, cast like a spell, “give me time.” So he did.
“And…. I’ll be getting out of your hair now.”
Your head tilts as you take him all in. His hair has dried, somewhere between curls and waves, the bags under his eyes are deep but the expression on his face is warm. You notice his pause, wondering if you should ask him to stay.
You can’t.
And he knows that.
Tom cracks into a laugh, rolling his head in a circle. You stand back on your heels, tension dissipating. He rocks back too, and starts to pick up his scattered jacket and hat. He puts them on quickly and you lean against the back of the couch. The apartment is quiet, save for the sound of his rustling clothes.
He heads to the door, ruffling his hair before he sticks it back under his cap. His hand is on the doorknob, cranking it slowly. He turns back to give you a dazzling smile,
“It was really, really amazing to see you again.”
You stomach flips. You can only nod and smile, as he holds your gaze. He looks down stepping out and––
“Hey! Tom?”
He looks over his shoulder expectantly, and you take the door. He’s still halfway inside your apartment, and sorely full in your heart. He raises his brow in question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you hold the door open for him.
Here it goes.
“I… I stayed around because… I kind of wanted to see you.”
His jaw drops.
“It was nice.”
And that goddamn heart-stopping grin is burned into your memory. You could see the sunshine and hope leaking out of his pores as he smiles with an open mouth.
Ooh.
And with a boyish chuckle, he accepts.
“Thank you, Y/N,” the flushing boy turns back and retreats with a happy skip,
“I’ll see you around.”
My name.
You don’t let yourself watch him walk away for too long, and shut the door quickly. Similarly, trying to shut out the emotions welling in your chest. Warm, worn, weak.
If Mal was awake, listening, or even remotely on “your side” you could just imagine her slow clapping to that awkward exchange.
You and Tom had finally moved forward; maybe they were baby steps. Or maybe they were even something less.
Anything is better than where you were nearly a month ago.
You retreat back to the couch and sink into your spot, alone with your rambling thoughts. Are we in, or are we out? Are we back? Is there more? Are we less––?
Gah.
You laugh as you wipe your hands over your face. You pull your cheeks down and let out a garbled sigh.
It’s really annoying how much you miss the taste of chocolate.
-
☎️ “Hey, It’s Tom. Again. Uhm, alright… This…. This feels ten times MORE awkward now that I know that you actually listen to these. Haha, shit! And I’ve sounded so pathetic in every single message–– hahaha, but, uhm, thanks. Not sure what part I’m thanking you for… but… I’m just thankful for you. Hah, hope that’s okay. I really just can’t believe I got to see you. It’s really been a long while, and I… I just wasn’t sure how we were even going to meet again. And, I realized I don’t have many pictures of you and you haven’t updated ANYTHING so––– oh, oh my god. I didn't mean to sound so fucking creepy! I swear I’m not checking on you everyday or something, hahahaha. Wah! I–– well. I don’t think i’ll ever forget what you look like, and I hope you’ll let me stick around……………… ugh, I’m the worst. For fucks sake. Hm….. you…. You really did look amazing, babe. I couldn’t breathe. And maybe you look even better without me……. Ahem. Ah, yeah. Sorry this is a fucking, that I’m a fucking mess. I’ll leave you be. Yeah. I’ll-- uhm, later. Bye, Y/N. I’ve missed you too.”
-
☎️ “Hey! Hey, uhm, It’s me. Tom. Again, again. Haha. Okay, uhm, totally slipped my mind, but I’ll be at Jay and Jae’s wedding like next, next week. Harrison said you were going as his date? Yeah, no problem with that. Just– uh, yeah. Just letting you know i’ll be there too. I know Mal, is invited so, she might be around? I’m not too sure. And… shouldn’t Zendaya be back around that time? Hahaha. Yeah, i–– This is just a heads up. I…. I won’t bother you there but…. Can i say that i’m looking forward to seeing you again so soon? Because I am….. Ooooohhhh….. Okay. Yeah, sorry. I’ll see you there, or not. Bye, babe.”
-
You smooth out your dress over your legs as you sit in a stiff chair. You kick your feet next to Harrison, lost on his phone. He ignores your fidgeting.
True to Tom’s voicemails, that you did listen to the moment you got them, you were at a wedding. Together, but not exactly. Jay and Jae were distant friends of yours, closer to Tom and his group of friends more than anyone else.
So naturally, Tom was there, sitting alone and far off, since Harrison took you as his date. He kept a professional distance, you would say.
Now, Mal was meant to be here too–– but she wasn’t. She declined without giving a specific reason, but you could imagine a few. The idea of fluffy bright whites, bouncy chatter and the honest glow of fairy lights might not shine too well on her particular shade of red.
Not that she doesn’t deserve her own sparkly moment in time, but you suppose this is all too fresh. And all too soon.
You reach out to touch the flowers wrapped around the chair in front of you. Were they real? Were they fake? You occupied yourself like this, and wondered…. Should you be feeling the same way as Mal?
Your eyes dart around, following strings of lights and greenery and warm sounds. Being at weddings, whether you knew the party well enough or not, has always made you feel loved. There's a certain warmth and love and respect that just overflows and spills into your own heart. Making you nostalgic for things you’ve never felt before.
So lovely.
Your thumbs smooth over a large petal.
And a ceremony like this…. Isn’t that bad. One day…
Your eyes flicker up, immediately finding that curious cute cavity.
One day maybe.
Tom is sitting with his arms resting on his legs. He switches between looking up, waving at distant friends and checking his phone, only to put it away quickly. He’s fidgeting too– trying his hardest not to look directly back at you.
You still catch him a few times.
You lean back, obscuring yourself from his view and  line up your arm with Harrison. You lean your head on his shoulder and laugh to yourself, pressing a fist against your lips to stifle it.
“Hm?” Harrison hums, craning his neck to see your face, “What’s so funny?”
You quiet down and smile gently. Curiosity is bubbling inside you and you feel like you’re in such high spirits–– the giddy nature of weddings is infectious, after all.
Is it because you feel like you have the upper hand tonight? Because Tom is trying so hard to not stare, but is so bad at hiding it? Because you feel like nothing can go wrong from this point?
Knock on wood.
Having Harrison by your side definitely feeds you a bit of confidence, at his expense. But you don’t think of that immediately. Things are only just coming to focus for you, and you eyes are willing to see.
You squeeze Haz’s arms softly, and suggest,
“Shall we invite him over?”
The golden haired boy scoffs, cocking his head back before looking at you,
“You sure about that?”
“‘Can’t leave him looking like a chump all by himself, right?”
He smiles at your thoughtfulness, raising his eyebrows then standing up. He calls over his friend quickly without much question. Tom perks up at the call of his name, and you could see his eyes widen across the ways.
He shimmies his way over, dodging people with a easygoing smile. He stands next to Haz, nodding his head politely,
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey, come sit with us,” you offer plainly, pointing beside Harrison.
You could see Tom doing the math in his head, but he doesn’t challenge it. He smiles instead, a little wary and a little stiff but thanks you. You could hear Harrison snort in dull annoyance, making you giggle.
You’re giddy for real.
Haz is sat between you two during the wedding ceremony, but you can feel whenever either of them turn to look at you, hot stares on your cheek. You all sit and stand together, following the procession.
“Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” the taller boy teases over the tension, bumping you with his elbow. You bump him back and he continues, “I’m in the line of fire.”
“Shut up!” you whisper back to him, catching Tom’s attention.
He turns to you, only like quarter cheek, but you can see the side of his eye wrinkle and how his cheek lift in a smile. You’re left looking at the teasing image of his jaw and ear and cheek and the tangle of waves on the nape of his neck––
Bring the heat.
The ceremony ambles on, and in the lull you hear Tom joke with Haz,
“Can’t wait for the drinks, man.”
Pffft.
His face was dusted pink. He needed something to keep him cool, something to do with his hands, and it might as well take the edge off too. It really couldn’t do much harm at this point. But would it even help with his nerves?
You stop yourself from giggling again, some kind of ancient, wretched, cliche girliness crawling out from you. You’re trying to play coy, but you can’t go exposing yourself.
Is this what it’s like to be wanted? And know you’re wanted?
Feels a little nice to be on this end, you have to admit.
You pull through the rest of the service, crying as the grooms whisper their vows to one another. Honestly you could barely hear it, but the way that they cried and smiled and cheered told you everything you needed to know.
Your heart swells as they kiss and walk by, everyone throwing handfuls of petals over them. It rains pink and white, a small flurry of love.
And while you take in the loving visual, you miss the way that a certain brunette turns back to catch a glimpse of you. Through the light mist of flowers, he sees a happy tear mark down your cheek and wishes nothing more than to be by your side and wipe it away.
“Catch you in a few,” comes Harrison’s voice and parting tap on your shoulder.
“Huh?” you blink, rubbing the corners of your eyes delicately.
He smiles, tilting his head towards company calling his name. He disappears into the crowd after giving your shoulder a squeeze and Tom a sharp pat on the back.
Ah, alone at last. You roll your eyes and nod to yourself.
There’s a wave of people leaving the ceremony to walk over to the reception hall, but you end up waiting in your row with Tom. You step close to his back, peering over him to see if it would be any easier to get out. You don’t talk.
After a while of being stuck, you both dart between chairs and exit the opposite way. You feel his hand almost touch the small of your back as he urges your way through.
The touch doesn’t connect, but a part of you wish it had.
You laugh bitterly as you push through the doors that lead out. It’s more than a bit ironic that you meet again at a wedding. The place of commitment and love and attempt at eternal happiness.
It’s kind of funny actually.
You step onto the sidewalk, shivering slightly at the cool spring weather. The smell of spring and summer was strong, but your teeth still chattered.
You stand side by side as you wait to cross the street, cars zipping through. You’re too aware of the space you hold between each other. You hold your hands to your chest and look ahead to the reception hall, glittery lights and soft noise wafting through.
“That was beautiful,” Tom comments quietly.
“Wasn’t it?” you smile, brought back to those glimmering emotions. You blink the wetness away from your eyes as you face him for a moment.
I’m such a sucker.
His hair is gelled back neater than usual, though a rogue curl tries to coil at the side of his head.
For…. things………..
“Mhm,” he hums, returning your gaze warmly. Those dark browns caught a twinkle the evening glow. Your heart beats oddly, as your lips pressed together. Tom smiles then taps the back of your arm, looking ahead of you.
“Let’s cross this street now.”
And you walk behind him, following his steps while skipping in your formal shoes, watching the broad sweep of his back in a smart black jacket.
You felt safe here.
Again.
-
Tom stood by your side as you crossed the threshold of the reception hall. The clack of your shoes against the hardwood didn’t catch any new attention but it sounded so fucking loud to you.You felt his shoulders roll back, as yours did, taking in the beautiful sight. Fairy lights and flowers and white drapery, hidden and highlighted by crowds of people. Wah.
You turn your cheek softly to look at him, your lashes fluttering. He was doing the same thing, both cautious of what to do and what to say next. You can’t stand at the entrance forever.
Oh, fuck it all––
“Hey! Tom! Is that you–?” a new voice crackles into range. Said boy ducks down and hollers back to an unfamiliar crowd, stepping away from you.
“Y/N!” and that call was for you, from a blonde you could hardly call yours.
You bounce back to Harrison, quickly hooking your arms into his without thinking. You wanted cover, fast.
Tom’s presence beside you was short lived as you went separate ways to greet some familiar faces, to your frail relief. You both get swept away in the tides of people, hardly saying goodbye to one another. Hm. You look back over your shoulder to see Tom smiling back at you gently. Hmm. He nods simply, then turns away.
See you later.
You suck in your cheeks, feeling a pang of disappointment as your expectations didn’t last long. But it’s fine. It’s fine. You weren’t even counting on spending the time that you did with him. Its fine! Really!
You float between hanging out with Harrison to meeting up with some old friends. Eventually starting to be dragged away by some especially gossip-y pals, Jenn and Sam. You hold on to Harrison’s arm as they tug you away,
“Nooooooo, guys, I can’t leave him by himself!”
Haz pries your fingers off one by one, sticking his tongue out and pointing behind him,
“Don’t worry about me, I have some other chumps to hang out with.”
You tilt your head for a second to see Tom, of course, looking down. His hands are stuffed deep into his pockets, laughing to himself, a pretty smile you wish you could have ignored. There’s a little unease that you notice about him too quickly, and that’s when you bounce back up.
Ha.
“Enjoy,” you say quietly, quite literally being pulled to the bar.
Conversation blends in seamlessly, with the help of some casual alcohol and swishy dancing. You haven’t met with them in along time, catching up and dissecting updates you’ve only seen through instagram and facebook. Then that drama starting spilling out as you look deeper into your cup, seeing where it all was heading….
“So, I heard Tom and Mal officially split,” Sam starts.
“Tom and Mal? They were a thing?” Jenn gasps.
“Yeah, official-ish–– right, Y/N? You roomin’ with Mal right now, yeah?”
And you nodded, “Yeah.”
“And they’re over? Done?”
Their eyes both shone bright with excitement, nearly licking their lips for the spill. Please, oh please! Share that shit!
You hold your shakey glass to your lip, wishing you didn’t have to answer this. But under their wide eyed stares and the desire to speak some truth, you squeak,
“Yeah, something like that.”
And they assume the pitying position quickly with,
“Oh, poor Tom. I knew he’d get dumped. He’s too nice and Mal was obviously taking advantage of that––”
And,
“Oh, well, I heard that Mal was just trying to use him to get back with someone.”
“Like, Jon, right? Or was it Tobey? I don’t remember––”
“Yeah, and Tom isn’t the type to date frivolously, so he must have known––”
Their story was wrong, but not so wrong. Just enough to get you itching. Itching to set it straight  and itching about whether or not you had the authority to correct them. Like what, just save Tom’s face, and tell them that Mal got what she deserved? That could be easy. But what happens when they ask about your role in this story–– is it even yours to tell?
“They did look great together though, Tom was head over heels for that bitch.”
“How could she let him go? I mean, the girl was all over everyone all the time, but Tom was a good one.”
They looked for him in the crowd, spotting him and cooing in pity. They were being so obvious, god. And at this point, you really couldn’t help yourself. You spoke in a hushed tone,
“Hm, actually, Tom dumped Mal.”
“Huh? For real?” and “Tells us what happened!”
You pause for a second, trying not to get in too deep.
“I don’t know for sure, but Tom realized he could… be better.”
“‘Be’ better? Not ‘do’ better? What do you mean by that?” Sam pushes, leaning closer to you, stepping by your side so you could both get a view of Tom swaying with some friends.
You shrug, turning your back to Tom, “I don’t know! I just saw the aftermath. I haven’t really talked to him, or Mal. It’s been tense–– you know?”
“Yeah, we get it,” Jenn nods solemnly, but perks up to wave, “We can just ask Tom himself! Hey! Tom! Harrison!”
Gah–!
Both of them are waving and making a scene towards the pair of boys somewhere behind you. You can only hunch your shoulders to brace yourself. It’s not like you could just walk away––
And “poor” Tom didn’t even realize you were there until the last second, freezing as he stops next to you.
Huuuu.
You’re very aware of how close he is.
With no formalities, no greetings, your friends cut right to it, only directing themselves towards the darker brunette,
“So, how have you been, Tom?”
He shrugs coolly, laughing sheepishly. His eyes are a little half-lidded as he blinked,
“Just… ask what you want to ask.”
Woah.
You look at him in dull surprise, Harrison too. You notice the soft pink glow on his cheeks and how he’s supporting himself on one leg. Maybe he’s drunk?  Maybe he’s just that ready to get it over with.
Cheers.
“Sooooo, you? And… Mal?”
“Not a thing anymore,” he shrugs again, holding up his beer bottle and smiling cryptically.
Your old friends turn on the pity again.
“Awwww, but you guys were so cute together!”
You have to squint your eyes at that remark, knowing they were egging him on. Buttering up the situation, but…. Ugh. You hate these kind of exchanges. But hey, transitions are important right?
Tom tries hard not to look at you as he nods slowly, explaining only a little bit more.
“Yeah, we… just didn’t work out. We… we wanted different things.”
You could see the questions bubbling in their pretty lil heads, but they offer some kindness, some room to take a breath.
“Oh, well good on you for getting out, Tom. We’re happy for you.”
And there it goes. You laugh under your breath at their blatant flip of the coin.
Tom smiles a little warmer this time, eyes crinkling genuinely.
“Thanks, ‘appreciate it.”
“And you know,” Jenn sings, shimmying her shoulders, “If you’re looking for a new, new love. There’s plenty of candidates right here!”
She bumps your shoulder, making you fall towards him. You dance a few steps forward, clinging onto his arm to balance yourself. You scoff as you stand up straight, your hand gripping his sleeve and nearly stretched across his chest.
Oh.
He stiffens beneath your touch.
Right.
You pull back to yourself, stepping aside as he clears his throat. Your brows furrow but he continues to speak uninterrupted.
“Ahem, yeah… thanks. I’m still–– I’m figuring things out. But I’ll be sure to do it right next time.”
Next time.
And you crack a one-sided smile, pursing your lips and looking down. Haha.
Harrison gives Tom’s shoulder a hard pat, not to be forgotten.
“If you get a next time!”
Oh, that was a bit pointed. A little sharp.
Tom opens his mouth in reaction, booing. Harrison laughs wide hugging his shoulders as everyone teases. You can’t look straight at him, knowing that you would fold and join into the glee all too quickly.
He looks too pretty in this light.
“Well, we still have some rounds to make,” Haz hugs Sam, then Jenn, then you, “We’ll grab a drink with you later.”
You close your eyes in the short embrace with Harrison, recharging. He squeezes your shoulder and starts to pull Tom away. Tom was in the middle of hugging your old pals, no hard feelings.
He gets to stand before you but speaks to the group,
“Yeah, ‘nice seeing you guys.”
The one rogue curl has turned into three framing his face, his canine pokes over his lip in a warm smile, and you feel the world stop turning.
“Y/N.”
You nod, giving him a quiet goodbye, tracing the lovely expression on his face. You blink softly, calming the pinpricks in your heart.
Damn.
And before you realize it, you’re smiling.
Greaaat.
It’s getting harder to deny that he’s got you got.
Cos now....
I’m actually kind of rooting for you.
-
How great is it that wedding playlists are full of love songs, huh? Gives you lots of material to think about as you bob your head to some bops with a chilled glass of wine in hand.
“I love you” and “I need you,” those are the songs singing. And the warmth in your face? You can blame it on the bubbly.
Right.
You raise your glass with another circle of friends as you spin in a daze. You let yourself blend into the blur of company, focused on remaining present.
Present as in–– not falling too back into those chocolatey clutches. Too soon anyway.
You don’t need to spend this time thinking about Tom. You don’t need to worry about where he is or how you’ll meet again–– in the next hour? After this wedding? Next week or…
Stop!
You’re just two separate people living on this planet, and your worlds don’t need to revolve around each other. At least, not all the time.
Tom is respecting your space, and you his. You don’t know what happened during this month long break, but… you still have time to think some things through. Whatever.
You nod along with friends to the music, finding your attention drifting away as the songs switch to something slower. The spell is wearing off, clarity is coming.
“I’ll be right back,” you hum but sure they didn’t actually hear you, and head to the bathroom.
And what a surprise, he is standing outside talking on his phone.
He doesn’t see you at first, kicking his feet on the floor and spinning alone.  You tiptoe past him, and maybe that was when he notices you–– you can’t fully tell either because you’ve already made it inside.
You make no impression of it, only looking at your face in the mirror. You take out an oil-blotting sheet and press it against your forehead. You look at your reflection, and it simply stares back. Nothing new, just some lines of wear and tiredness beneath your eyes. The usual.
You exit the restroom, and he isn’t there.
Hm.
You make your way, pulled into some conversations and breaking free for another drink, waiting at the counter of the bar. Your fingers tap against the counter fidgeting not out of impatience and––
There’s a raucous eruption of laughter and rustling beside you. You turn your cheek to see none other than, that man. He’s hugging another guy as they stuff a few bills into the tip jar. He notices you this time.
Small smile, and then disappears into the crowd.
You managed to smile back as your drink came and you flit away just as quickly. There’s an incredulous laugh that edges in the back of your throat.
Hmm.
Next, you go out for some fresh air on the balcony and, huh, he’s there, too. Harrison and Tom smoke some cigars with the grooms and you quite literally smack your lips and turn a heel to the other direction.
Not the kind of air you were looking for at the moment.
You sputter a laugh in disbelief, shaking your head as you clomp your way to… wherever the hell else.
God, you weren’t even looking for him! He was just always fucking… right there. Your pace quickens and you focus on the tap of your shoes as you run away––
But there’s something else in your step.
Disappointment?
Maybe it’s weighing on you that he isn’t making any moves. Not that you want him to, but you kinda did expect him to.You see him miraculously after a month and he leaves all those begging and wanting messages and now you see him here and–– nothing.
Shit, Tom. Don’t be such a great guy.
You laugh, shaking your head, feeling your hair come undone a lil. You tuck it behind your ear as you come back to face the twinkling lights.
You’re making it hard to ignore you.
You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back in an attempt to relax. Sliding your way back onto the dance floor, you find friends and hold onto your waning freedom.
Dancing is the best way to get him out of your head. He’s outside, you’re in a tangle, you won’t find him here. You won’t even look for him here!
Shimmy. Sing. Shake. Grind.
Your eyes are closed to just fall in tune with the music, and maybe you’re dancing badly but that’s always alright. Just enough to get the feelings out.
In the throes of expressing yourself with your body, you fail to ignore another body coming up behind you, shushing your friends. Warm hands melt down your waist, rolling with the contours of your hips.
You yelp, jumping up and falling back into the body. You turn to see that it’s just Harrison, laughing smartly. His cheeks are flushed as he hugs your waist close to him,
“Hello there, thing.”
Thing.
“God! You scared me.” You swat at him, as you struggle against his arms to face him. You hug his own waist back easily, fingers spreading across his back. You giggle sheepishly, feeling the full weight of tiredness as you’re finally able to lean on someone.
His warm fingertips gently brush hair away from your sticky face, commenting,
“You’re look beautiful, even 3 hours into this thing.”
“That’s the alcohol speakin’, Haz.”
“No, no.Just accept it,” his eyes soften, watery blue, “I mean it.”
Oh, the pang of guilt.
“Not looking so bad yourself,” you say, patting his cheek. You could feel the beginnings of stubble beneath your hand, sending shivers down your spine.
The song slows and you collapse into a dance together, feet shuffling softly and heads leaned. You take solace on his shoulder, breathing in his manly cologne, still going strong. You can smell a feminine perfume mixed along in there somewhere too––
“So, where’s Tom now?” you callously ask.
“Why are you looking for him?”
“N-no, I’m just wondering,” you callously reply.
Harrison shallowly laughs at your obvious interest, shaking his head to hit his chin against you.
“‘Trying not to keep bumping into you, he says,” you hear a deep sigh come from deep within, “Ya’ll are so annoying.”
His bold hand pats the space right above your ass in poor punishment. You inhale deeply, words spilling,
“I don’t know what to do with… with this, honestly.”
“Spend some time with him, you’ll know.”
You frown, craning to look back at him, eventually standing straight before him, “I… don’t want to.”
“Then don’t look for him,” Haz says firmly, bluntly, clearly.
He’s giving you an empty smile, his eyes icy. And it hurts your heart, hurts you knowing that he’s still having a hard time with this too. You step back, making distance,
“I’m sorry, Harrison–– I didn’t mean to.”
“No, no, you’re alright,” his eyes close, tilting his head. His perfect hair falls with his movements, “I don’t want you to pity me, just–– just let yourself be happy, or else i can’t move on.”
Woof.
That’s the first time he’s said it out loud.
And you hear it loud and clear.
You don’t know what to say, offering him a crooked smile, eyebrows pulled. You try to give him a look that looks more like understanding rather than pity.
He chuckles, a bit more genuinely this time,
“What are we going to do with you?”
You bob your head. You’re a wreck and you know it.
“Dance?”
“I dare you to dance with Tom.”
“What?No way! I can’t do that,” you look past Harrison as he spins you. That pretty boy is standing alone against the wall somewhere far off. He’s not looking in your direction now, but you could never be sure of where his eyes were mere seconds ago.
“No!”
You want to tell Harrison that you’d rather dance with him, no one else, but that would just be twisting the knife in further. Pure cruelty.
“Come on,” Harrison hugs you from behind, swaying for a moment while he presses his cheek against yours. The grain of his stubble tickles your face as he whispers into you ear,
“There’s nothing to be worried about.”
Easy for you to say, is what comes to mind. There’s PLENTY of things to worry about–– but further burdening Harrison with your troubles is just.... Unfair, and you know it.
Fuck it all.
The song ends, and Haz lets you go with a soft spin and swivel. Your shoes tap on the hardwood, as he motions for you to go. It fills you with a little bit of confidence, if you can call it that.
You make your way, looking back to see the beautiful boy already chatting up some people nearby, his perfect smile on display. There was a little ease given back to you there. A little.
The songs get slower, and it’s harder to make it out there alone.
Your stupid eyes keep trailing back to Tom leaning against the wall, glass in hand. You suck in a breath and finally waltz yourself over to him.
At least you have the element of surprise on your side, right?
“Hey.”
“Ah! H-hey!” he’s caught off guard, pushing himself off the wall to stand tall.
You fall into place next to him, looking around as you control the pace.
“You enjoying yourself?”
You’re aware of how strange this sudden exchange must be, but you’re tired of running in place. You think Tom picks up on that too as his shoulder slumps in casual ease, able to speak loosely,
“Of course, great company and an open bar. It’s a good night.”
You break into a wry smile, wondering who and where his company was. You were out there with his best friend, who was left?
That’s a little mean, haha.
“You’re not gonna go dance?”
“No one I wanna dance with out there,” he bumps his head to the music, looking out into the sea, and back at you.
You exhale, taking a small leap,
“No one for the… past few months?”
Tom fights a grin, puffing his cheeks up as he turns to you fully. His eyes scan over your face, looking for permission to be back on that cheeky shit,
“There’s only (1) person that comes to mind.”
Mmhmm.
“––Well ,a few ones. But you’re the main one, don’t worry,” he jokes with a weak smile.
That’s enough to make you laugh though, his easy teasing. You fix the strap of your dress as you smooth out the conversation with just as much tact,
“So, how have you been otherwise, busy?”
“Yeah, a little bit, and you?”
“Not busy enough,” you laugh, maybe this wasn’t so easy. The nervous energy boiled in the pit of your stomach as you kept talking, “––with work and class and stuff. It’s been slow but i’d rather be stressed. I don’t know it’s weird, being idle.”
“No, no, I get it,” Tom points his finger as he takes a drink, maintaining eye contact, “Don’t overwork yourself though.”
“Thanks.”
And the conversation stops, not flowing to the next thing like it used to.
There should be so many things to talk about, so many things to catch up on, movies, shows, life, anything! But there were still wrinkles you had to iron out, not to be forgotten.
The silence isn’t unpleasant though, though you can credit that to being at a loud and rowdy wedding. Lots of background noise and things to avert your gaze to.
“How’s Mal?” he asks outright and suddenly.
“Doin’ better,” you reply just as earnestly, “Haven’t talked to her much though, if I’m being honest.”
“That’s good. She… really worried me last week, but we left on good terms.”
Thank god.
You face him fully this time too, “I’m glad. That’s great, Tom. I’m really happy for you.”
He puts down his glass, scratching his nose to hide his face. You can see his eyes were a little watery while his brows furrowed,
“Listen, I– I gotta clear some things up with you too. If you’ll––”
You hear the loud crackle of a microphone, eyes directed towards the mass of people rushing to the dance floor. The DJ announces it’s time for the bouquet toss, people pushing beside you asking you to come join, Hands reaching out as they pass.
Uhm, hell no.
You shake your head in rejection, it may just be superstition, but you’ll take no chances. Predictions for the future made you queasy, forever waiting for those star sign events to come true. It’s limiting, in a way. Strings of people pass by you, pulling at you and Tom to join. They smelled a little too hopeful and a little too much like alcohol.
“Come on, you’re single. Just go!”
“No thanks,” you breath.
“Why, are you taken?”
“No,” you had to reply over and over.
You held still, your stomach churning for some reason. Maybe it was just having your future ~love~ predicted and dissected by a crowd of people. You just felt rushed and hot and annoyed. These festivities were meant to be fun, harmless! But you feel too conscious about it in this state.
“Want to get out of here?” Tom offers, expertly sensing your nerves, his hand already hovering over the small of your back.
“Please.”
He takes the outside and you walk along the wall, weaving through threads of people while his hand guides you. You couldn’t look at him, embarrassed about your mini-meltdown as he leads you out into an empty hall. It led to a quiet lobby.
No one was there, the only sign of use were the half-drunken booze littered across a table. There was still plenty of room to stand and talk. You lean against a marble column and look out the window. There’s meant to be a view of the city, sparkling at night, but the glare allowed you to see your reflections. Both of you stood apart and stiff.
You hug your shoulders, thinking of just moments ago, “Pushy.”
“Sorry about that,” Tom offers, leaning against the same pillar, close. “Is this alright?”
“It’s not you,” is all you can return.
You both take the moment to try to look past your own reflections to the outside world, listening to the muffled sounds of the DJ and blurry cheering. Soon enough, you push off the column stand closer to the glass, looking out and seeing clearly.
“I have to apologize for speaking on your behalf… about Mal.”
There’s a beat of silence before he comes beside you again, searching for the same view. In the faint reflection, you see his hand reach for yours and stop, stuffing his back into his pocket. He pretends he hadn’t moved at all.
“No, no, thanks for saying something. I, uhm, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
You both chuckle, looking down–– no one really knows anything. It’s contained, it’s a secret.
It’s stills something that’s only between the three of you.
And it’s all you can think about lately.
What are we now?
During this gap, you’ve spent so much time thinking about what to say, and what you would do when you get the chance to speak one on one…. But now you’re fumbling. So far, you don’t know anything about thisTom. This Tom you have seen for days, weeks, months. You don’t know what he’s being doing, how he’s doing or what he’s even thinking about–– not like before. Not like back when you could read his mind. Not like when you knew, “I’m on my way” meant “I’ll be 10 minutes late, but I’ll be there.”
There’s so little to go off of.
The boy before you wasn’t a complete stranger, but not exactly a friend either.
And you don’t know where to start with that.
You cross and uncross your arms in the dragging echo of silence.
You feel like a child, helpless. You feel like a teenager, confused. But worst of all, you felt like an adult who has no idea what the fuck to say.
It would have been comforting to know that Tom felt the same way, but you didn’t notice that. You didn’t see how his forefinger pressed into his thumb, and how he bit the inside of his cheek, navigating the same path to the truth and apology.
It would actually be a relief for someone to burst in at this moment.
But the time for peace and clarity has arrived, and you both know you shouldn’t let it go.
“I’m sorry for… kissing you the last time I saw you. The last, last time, I mean. At the party,” Tom courageously blurts, turning a frustrated red. He steps back to the column, leaning against it as he balls his hands into fists,
“That’s one the biggest… things I have to say sorry for. And… yeah, you know the rest. I just–– I know that I shouldn’t have done that. The alcohol and confusion isn’t an excuse… and yeah, it’s disgusting, I know.” He trails off, hoping that you would pick up from there. But you don’t, properly giving him time to say what he needs to,
“I–I’ve been so lost for so long, you know? Looking for someone to be with, and Mal was there. She was someone who wasn’t perfect, needed help… Someone I thought I could help. And I wanted to stick through it, but when I met you––aside from what happened between us, you taught me that I deserved better. Better than someone who wouldn’t do anything in return for all I’ve done. That that relationship isn’t… something I had to destroy myself to save,” he looks up, looking for you.
“You just… none of this is your fault and you don’t need to feel bad for any of it. For me.”
Tom laughs, shaking his head more curls and waves coming undone.
“You don’t need to be anything to me. But I’m just going to be the sap that’s still falling in love with you for a while longer.”
The laugh takes a bittersweet turn, and you can tell he wishes he were holding your hand–– anything to physically show you he means it. But you’re not sure you’re ready for that kind of direct touch just yet.
You’re just absorbing it all in. It’s been a tumultuous few months, both caught in a vicious tide. Rolling, tumbling, drowning–– and it’s not an excuse for either of you. You can’t just let things fall where they may.
“No… Tom, I have to apologize too,” you start shakily, after you hear cheers from the vibrating reception.
“For what?”
Breathe.
The past few months of getting close to Tom, getting closer and falling apart, run though your mind. And you really wonder if he thinks that you are blameless in this catastrophe.That you hadn’t seduced him or wanted him while he was promised to someone else.
That’s pretty shit of you, right?
You lick your bottom lip in a small smile, Tom always had that kind of innocence about you. The assumption that you don’t play the game, that you could never wish ill-will. He could never think that you had ever schemed against his relationship.
And you didn’t, explicitly, but….
“Tom,” you dig your heel into the ground, leaning against the window while you watch his face, “I shouldn’t have ever… tempted you–– or spent that time with you. Back then, in the beginning, you had Mal. And I walked right in between you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did, and maybe it wasn’t forcefully or with the intention of taking you away but… it was wrong of me to even try to confuse you. It was selfish and stupid.”
And it hurt everyone involved.
Whether it started with you is up for debate, but you want this cycle of hurt to end with you. Or end with the truth.
You think of Harrison and even Mal. Maybe it’s not your fault or Tom’s fault, but it’s hard to feel blameless as you assess the damage.
“If I hadn’t gotten involved, none of this would have happened and…”
Your eyes shift left and right as you wait for his reply. Tom hangs his head, rocking for a moment before coming back up to smile,
“It’s okay.”
His words hang in the air, releasing you. And something has changed, with your confessions, something has reverted back to those glossier days. He teases,
“I’m glad you confused me.”
You scrunch your nose at your words being brought back.
Tom and Mal’s relationship was rockier than either of you knew at the start, and with your intentional slash unintentional meddling, lots of things came to light, got messy and now… you’re here.
Confused.
Far from the start, but still just as lost.
Tom’s brows raise and soften as he watches your heart on your sleeve,
“I…. I know there’s still a lot to think about but… I gotta say that I’m so happy that you’re still here talking to me.”
You have to laugh, one that you can’t swallow and pretend. You rub the corner of your eye, and muse,
“I’m not that cold, Tom.”
But you had been, and he knew he deserved it.
And while time has not swept away all the hurt, the path seemed a little bit clearer.
There were still some things you couldn’t deny.
“Hey... You know what?”
He hums in response, kicking off the column to come stand beside you again. You could see the pretty wrinkles on the side of his mouth deepen as he breathes into a smile.
You start,
“Despite this mess, I’m glad I got to know you. At all.”
His dark eyes widen as he takes it in, the future still in question. His pale hands yearns to reach out to you, and even with this new confidence he is wary of rejection. Instead he cuts through the still and get straight to it,
“What does that mean?”
You felt caught off guard at his parry, but your answer comes out all on its own.
“It means that, I’ve liked you, Tom. and––”
And?
“I don’t completely want you out of my life.”
You find yourself smiling as you tuck your chin back in embarrassment. That sounded an awful lot like you still felt That Way about him. You shut your eyes and sigh, shaking your head a little bit.
“Not completely?” he repeats, egging you on for more. He leans close to you, making his way back to your heart.
You chuckle under your breath.
“Let’s start over.”
Tom’s brows harden.
You stretch out your hand towards him, which he cautiously accepts as you put out the flames.
“As friends.”
There’s another loud round of applause that echoes through the hall. Shouts and whistles bleed out to the lobby.
“As friends,” he murmurs.
You shake firmly, avoiding his eyes as your hands fall back to your sides. You turn your cheek to face away from him and suggest,
“Let’s get back in, yeah?”
You don’t want him to see the strange, flustered, excited, happy expression drawn so obviously on your face.
“Let’s,” Tom agrees easily.
His hand smoothes over the small of your back, in a brave and bold little show of camaraderie.
Let’s start off as friends.
You smile stiffly, because you don’t want him to know that your heart is pounding like it used to.
That it would be too easy to melt back into that old mold.
Let’s just see where we go from there.
-
As with all romantic dramedies, you enter the party together with no resolution or closure to your prior conversation. And once again, you are immediately swept away into the tide.
You lose each other for a moment, following the flow of people and conversation.  But this time, you find your way back to one another, willingly.
Tom stands tall by your side, instead of cowering away, and you roll your shoulders back with inviting poise. You feel at ease and he smiles warmly.
That’s not to write off the unbelievable and undeniable tension stretching in the small gap between your shoulders. It’s TOO real.
Your hand had bumped his once, and you both jump back and fumble over hurried apologies.
“Sorry.”
“You’re good.”
And it’s back to standing still but not too still. You both manage to relax with your favorite blonde slash brunette makes his way, and stands in between. He’s throws his arms over both of you, drunken weight pulling down as he sways.
You laugh at the rumple in his collar, fixing it while berating him for still being so drunk at the end of the night. Harrison waves the hand on your side and twirls a finger in the air,
“Indulge a little.”
The celebration nears the end as the lights dim and people start making two lines by the exit, standing together holding party poppers to burst over the grooms in the grand finale. A parting gift of glitter and petals and kisses.
Tom has placed Harrison in a chair by the wall, both of you standing nearby. You both snicker  as he rubs his eyes and checks his phone, undoubtedly texting you both.
Facing forward, you hold the small device in your hands as you wait together, scraping to make small talk. Your voice startles him.
“You know, Z is coming back in a week.”
Tom’s eyes widen, looking at you with genuine surprise. He nods, looking for more,
“Oh, for real? Does she want––” His eyes dart from side to side, thinking of his next words carefully.
You finish it for him.
“She wants to see you. And uh-oh, biiiiig trouble.”
“Oh,” he pulls an exaggerated face, tugging at his collar.
“Not all bad trouble. But–– you know, it could help your case if you could help us with the move. Uhm, If I could trouble you with that.”
Tom smiles wide, his eyes crinkling near shut as he looks down. This is your arm stretched out towards him, offering a path back to where he wants to be. But it’s just a feeler, if anything at all.
“Yeah, of course, I’d love to.”
You giggle, shaking your head. No one wants to help anyone with a move, dummy. God, you don’t want to take advantage of his feelings but–– he does have a car and some apologies he wanted to make. Haha, it’s nothing malicious! You could just use the help.
“I can bring Haz and Jacob too, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, I don’t have that much shit.”
“Just Harrison then?”
Your eyes scan over him, wondering if he was worried about spending time in the same place as 3 women who were, arguably, after his throat. You really can’t blame him for looking for some protection.
You offer your sympathy with a edging smile, “Yeah, bring the drunkard with you. He’ll be a lot of help, yeah?”
You both turn back to look at him, squinting into the crowd. You laugh as he finally finds you, and offer him a little wave. You turn to Tom to see if he was waving too, but he wasn’t.
His face is close, and tilted towards you. You could see those freckles you missed so much, and the brow you’ve always wanted to tame. You could smell that faint boyish cologne that always reminded you of home––
“Oh! Here they come!” Tom interrupts, his whole face perking up animatedly. His smile is so wide and true, leaving you in a daze and you turn back to the grooms.
They make their way through the lines, dressed in white, only to be covered in glitter and streamers and petals.
You squeal in excitement, screaming congratulations as you pull the string and feel the pop in your bones. Tom is whistling and howling beside you, a cheeky hand making its way across your back.
Goosebumps prickle across your skin as you watch the new couple pass.
Hey.
They disappear into night, as the crowd collapses into one. You hear stray pops and fizzles, delayed responses but none to go to waste. The flurry of confetti is dense and never ending, feeling like a stubborn snow flurry in the early spring.
You lean into the warm palm into your back, and spin to find it’s owner.
Through falling flowers, muted music and passing bodies, you turn back to Tom.
Lovely Tom.
And he’s found you too, hair tousled just right and lips a rosy pink.
Picture perfect and sugary sweet.
“Hey, you.”
Your back is still blooming with warmth even after his hand falls away.
“Hey.”
Before the flurry ends, he’s pulled you aside to avoid the bustling of people making their exit. The dim light and soft rustling makes you feel small and lonely, yearning to be held again.
Your eyes shift towards Harrison, coming up from his seat and taking a video of the falling flowers. You blink back into your body.
Straightening yourself out, you tuck hair behind your ear, making rogue petals fall out onto the floor. You and Tom laugh, as he brushes his shoulders off and shakes his blazer.
You’re shaking off your dress as Harrison comes up, and Tom speaks low,
“Can I give you a ride home?”
Oh, the night’s not over.
You look at Haz, still in and out of his coordination and seeing that he was your ride… you agree. You walk with the pair of boys clinging to each other into the warm night and softly bump into Tom’s shoulder.
“Did you plan for this?”
He raises his brows to give you a smug smile,
“Nope, only hoped.”
You roll your eyes as you get into Harrison’s car–– Tom must have gotten a Lyft or something. Harrison surrendered his keys and quickly settled into his seat up front. He dozes off quickly, dropping his phone and making no reaction.
Tom snickers as you take a picture of the blonde sweetie, sitting back to type on your phone.
He plays some whatever late night radio music, and it’s quiet in the car but it’s not so bad. It’s comfortable.
You don’t feel the pressure to talk after all the talking you had already done.
You focus on picking off flowers that have gotten into precarious places, and rub the glitter off your skin. You seethe,
“These better be biodegradable.”
And Tom laughs, glitter and paper confetti falling out of his hair.
He takes you home on familiar dips and turn, getting back to your apartment in no time. You almost forgot about your roommate for a moment too––
He parks to the side and as you gather your things he runs out to get the door for you, making you blow up at your hair. You take the hand he offers as you step out,
“Thank you, thank you. That’ll be all.”
You start to walk to the front door, realizing Tom is following you after the car door shuts and you hear his hurried steps. You look at him, lips pressed to avoid a smile. He shrugs,
“Just want to make sure you get inside.”
You both look towards the door, only a short distance away. And reconvene with those dark browns, curious to see what could happen next.
He understands that there’s still a line, still a few things to settle. And you appreciate that–– except for the fact that your insides are buzzing to take him in, to watching something dumb or to catch up or to drink drinks or to just to have him on your couch again.
But it can’t be tonight.
You climb up a few steps, making yourself a lot taller than him, and lick your lips,
“”Thank you, Tom. Uhm, it was nice talking to you again.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he scratches the side of his neck, “This eases some of my worries.”
“You don’t have to worry,” you say softly leaning back.
“But I want to.”
You shake your head, throwing your shoulders up as you laugh,
“Stay worried then!”
Tom pouts, slapping his arms at his side in defense, and you only rub your nose.
“Thanks,” he sarcastically nods, continuing the banter. He wants to spend more time with you too, to wrap himself in that fuzzy gray blanket and tell you how much you meant and mean to him. But he rocks back on his heels, trying to get away from your sweet scent and away from the sweet licks of temptation.
Let’s not make the same mistakes twice, yeah?
“Text me when you make it back, okay? Tell Harrison to too,” you conclude, stepping on the brakes.
He smiles a little too wide at the permission you just gave him, and you only realize it a second after. Then the lines of communication were open again, that this is something you will really move forward with–– and as Tom bows his head to hide his ecstatic grin, you catch sight of a stray white petal knotted in his locks.
“Hold on!”
You reach forward instinctively, and he keeps his head lowered. You hold the side of his head with one hand, the bottom of your palm smoothing across his forehead and the other plucking the petal from a nest of gel,
“Got it.”
And he looks up then, with no warning. You hand frozen in place, and ultimately cupping his cheek. Your thumb presses against the corner of his lip, pressed in a gorgeous and heartbreaking smile.
You manage to speak, “Look, silly.”
Your hand shakes as you show him the white petal between your faces, and he defiantly looks past it and straight at you.
“You can keep that,” he whispers, making your hair stand on end.
And it’s funny because your arm lowers, and your hand slides off his burning cheek onto his chest. You smooth down his lapel and hold his gaze before you let your hand fall back to your side. You wished nothing more than to tumble forward, to collapse back into his arms. To embrace him wholly, for him to embrace you back.
To forget the stupid messes made and fall in love with the sweetness again.
“I will.”
There’s still a trust to be earned, a new recipe to follow. Proper ingredients, real sugar and in the end, it’s still gotta taste good too.
But, oh, what would wouldn't do to kiss him again.
To take a bite of that sweet chocolate.
“I’ll see you soon, Tom.”
I wonder what it would taste like now?
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A/N: …… FINALLY. OH MY GOD. it’s been like what, 6 months? Since December? This series took a hard hit because of my birthday and holidays and tumblr banning blogs left and right. I’m glad to return to it, and fucking… END it. Thank you so much to those of you who have stuck around, remembered this series and asked for updates! This is for you.
If you can, please like, comment and reblog. I want all of those who have been waiting for this to see the end! Maybe like 2-3 more chapters left?
And i’ll let you know when i can update next. The next one won’t be as long, so maybe i can get it out in a week or two?
Track #LDC or #Like Dark Chocolate to see the updates!
Again, thank you so much and i love you guys! See you very soon.
Peace,
Madmadmilk
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thehomierobbstark · 5 years
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Bruh I can imagine Erik saying “Like you mean it” in that tinder voice, and staring at you with his pretty brown eyes😭😭
Shame [Prelude] // Kissing Strangers [Part I] // Communication [Part II]
[A/N: So I know when you sent this in you were probably responding to my story Kissing Strangers, but I wanted to do something else with this since so many people seemed to enjoy that story. (Uh huh, bet you thought I didn’t see this ask huh 😂). Anywho, this is part 1 of 2, so stay tuned! If yall wanna incorporate this into the K.S. Universe go for it! But there’s still a lot of development to go before this story happens.  I listened to Sabrina Claudio’s Creation (i know sis….) on repeat while writing this. Enjoy! And as always, thanks for asking anon!! ]
Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.
This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.
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Shivers run down your back as he traces along your spine with a finger, sliding delicately over the bralette you wore and down to the small of your back.  He lets the rest of his fingers peek out to crawl around your skin, nails scratching lightly as he feels around the plushy flesh resting there.
Out of habit, you shrink away from his curious exploration, self conscious about the unsightly back rolls, mentally cringing at what he must’ve thought.
“Let me touch you,” he whispers against your lips, his other hand pulling you back to him, large palm gripping your thick waist with security.
Your heart flutters at the gesture, a comforting warmth emanating out from your chest, and down below.  As you look down at him with a lip tucked between your teeth, he watches you with half lidded eyes, leaning forward to tug it free and suck the juicy fold into his mouth.
Sighing contentedly, you bring your hands up to either side of his face, closing your eyes and melting into the kiss, returning it with equal fervor. Your tongues dance slowly with one another as you explore each others mouths, nipping and sucking softly until both your lips are red and swollen with desire.
Pulling back with a groan, he surveys your outfit, not for the first time that night.  Sucking in a sharp breath, he clicks his tongue with irritation, rolling it around in his mouth.
“Now you knew damn well you was wrong when you walked out the house like this.” His eyebrow twitches as he speaks through clenched teeth, the frustration he’d felt the entire evening burning like acid on his tongue.  You feel the deep timbre of his voice vibrate through your body, and his eyes flicker to yours, narrowed and concentrated. “Didn’t you?”
Inhaling a thick breath of air, you bite your lip to conceal your smirk, nodding innocently as you feel the sexual tension grow between the two of you, along with something else.
“Words.”
He doesn’t break eye contact, waiting patiently for your verbal response.
Straightening your posture, you push your hands against his lower abdomen, feeling the solid muscles there constrict, giving yourself a layer of protection in case he decided to pounce.  “Yes.”
He sniffs, nodding his head while his eyes trail down to your spread thighs on either side of his hips, feeling his gaze on your center.
“Yet, you decided to do it anyway. Why?”
You swallow thickly, resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at his aggressive interrogation.
“Because it’s cute.”  You raise a brow, holding your head high with conviction as if the answer was obvious.
Eyeing you dangerously, he reaches forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing firmly until he feels your pulse race anxiously against his palm. A weak whine manages to slip past your lips, but you cut it short, seeing the threatening look behind his eyes.
“Why?” He asks you again, eyebrows raised expectantly for the correct answer this time.
Licking your lips, you open your mouth, and he gives your throat a warning squeeze, daring you to lie to him again before loosening his grip.
“Because I knew it would get to you.” Your words are breathy, heart skipping a beat at your foolish confession.
He leans forward, a smile curling its way onto his lips as he drops the hand around your neck to trace the lines of your collar bone, following it with his eyes.
He places a kiss to your shoulder.
“Do you like teasing me, Miss Y/L/N?”
He places another kiss right above it, your skin growing increasingly sensitive with each touch.
With your words caught in your throat, you move to shake your head, but a sharp smack to your ass makes you gasp, stopping you in your tracks.
You glance down to find those same insidious eyes watching you again, eager for another mistake as he continues lacing kisses up the side of your neck.
Clearing your throat, you find your voice again, speaking with a shaky breath.  “No.”
“Hm?”  You can feel his soft breath tickling your skin, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention from the close proximity. He was torturing you now.
Closing your eyes, you try again, this time with more certainty.
“No.”
With his lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he whispers into it, his icy tone sending a chill down your back.
“Wrong answer.”
The air feels as though it thins around you, your breaths becoming shallow as you wait with trepidation for whatever was about to come.
You chance a peek at him, eyes wide and silently pleading for him to have mercy on you, to give you one more chance to get it right.
Bringing his face up to yours, he stops a hair’s breadth away from you, your nose tickling from the closeness, and you feel your stomach sink as you watch his sweet brown eyes turn cold.
You feel a popped tug at your pants and the zipper on your jeans being pulled down as the cool air in the car begins to touch your lower half.
“Take these off.”
Grabbing your bottom with a handful of meatiness in each hand, he lifts you up, placing you off to the side onto the seat next to him. Scooting himself towards the door, he rests back cooly with one leg bent at the knee on the seat, the other on the floor.  His left arm lays behind the headrest, the other in his lap, fingers twitching around the aching mass between his legs.
With the small distance between you, you feel as though you’re center stage, and the intrigued look on his face as his eyes rake over you let you know that he’s ready for the show.
You take in a deep breath, chest filling with nervous butterflies that flutter away as you exhale through your nostrils.  Hooking both thumbs into the rim of your pants at your waist, you slowly push them down off your tummy, stopping to instinctively pull your underwear back up over the soft pudge.
“Don’t.”  His deep voice stalls you in your movements, and you release your tug on your panties, the thin material snapping back against your skin.
Looking into your eyes, with a small nod he silently commands you to keep going, and you continue pushing the material down, pausing to lift yourself as you work it up and over your hips.  As more of your chocolate brown skin is revealed, he licks his lips, swallowing down the collection of saliva that pooled in his mouth at the sight of you.
You keep your legs together as you finish shoving your jeans down the rest of the way, bending your knees and tucking each of your feet back as they’re freed to cover the view of your crotch.
Balling up the dark denim, you toss it over into the trunk of the car, straightening your legs out on the seat to their full length, your chubby socked feet stopping just before his crotch.
Running his thumb up the side of your sole, he takes one foot in his hand, slowly peeling the thin silk from around your ankle, revealing your cute black pedicured toes as he pulls it off. He does the same with the other foot, folding the socks into one another before tossing them over his shoulder to join your jeans in the back.
Rolling his thumbs into the sole of your right foot, he massages the soft skin, the tickling feeling making you arch and squirm in your spot.  You can feel the wetness in between your legs grow with each firm knead, and when he presses the nail of his thumb into the base of your heel and draw up, your body shudders at the sensation, closing your eyes to keep him from seeing them roll into the back of your head.
Chuckling at your reaction, he brings your foot up to his mouth to softly kiss the pad of your big toe, working his way down the line of appendages as he holds them against his lips. His tongue snakes out to suck on your pinky toe, but you snatch your foot back before he can make contact, a  devilish snicker filtering out from him as a full blown grin spreads his lips, touching the corners of his eyes.
You pull both your legs back and wrap your arms around your knees protectively, too distracted by the irritatingly beautiful smile painted on his face to roll your eyes at him like you wanted to.
“Where you think you going? Get back over here,”
He chews his lip as he glances down at your shielded legs, beckoning you back over to him with a hooked index finger.
When you refuse to move, his smile fades, face morphing back into the dark demonic look that you were becoming accustomed to seeing.
He stares you down with a testing look, but you don’t budge an inch.  If he wanted you, he was gonna have to come get you.
Slowly leaning forward into a menacing crouch, he balances the weight of his upper body on the palms of his hands, beginning a steady crawl towards you. The muscles in his back undulate with each stride, the rolling of his shoulders reminding you of that of a jaguar on the prowl.
You reach behind you to drag yourself away from his sauntering presence, but your hand hits the door, and your stomach sinks at the realization that there’s no where else for you to go.
As he reaches your legs, he wraps one large palm around your calf, gripping it and tugging you towards him forcefully, causing a frightened yelp to escape your lips.
Your back falls flat against the seat, and you see his large frame above you, peering down at you like you’re his helpless prey.
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Warnings: Pre smut, Corniness, Insane Cheesiness I’m sure
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