#it's been over a year since I giffed so please excuse the colouring.

[mayalunas]

Some fluffy little FK moments for @gunsatthaphan 🫶🏻✊🏻

[theweasleysredhair]

Distracted [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 2628

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Fred Weasley is hot and boy, does he know it.

WARNINGS: it’s a lil spicy, read with caution. a couple of saucy comments, just the usual with fred idk.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i am really feeling fred atm, so here’s an extremely self-indulgent freddie thirst fic for all my lovelies who are also irrevocably in love with him - enjoy!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Fred Weasley knew just how to get under your skin. It was a skill he had, a talent of knowing exactly what to do to get you hot and bothered, especially when you weren’t expecting it. It was especially frustrating when you couldn’t do anything about it, considering you were stuck in limbo between being friends and being more, and whilst you liked the lingering stares and longing touches, you couldn’t help but want more with him.

You had hoped he would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball last year - in fact, everyone was insistent that he would - but then he’d asked Angelina instead, which was hard to watch - George had laughed with his brother, but had grabbed your hand under the table in comfort - and made you doubt Fred actually returned your feelings at all.

Despite this, you’d actually ended up going to the ball with an extremely cute Durmstrang boy yourself, so you weren’t completely complaining, and of course, Fred had actually ended the night with you in his arms, dancing to the musical stylings of The Weird Sisters. It was also the night of your first - and only - kiss with Fred, under the stars in the Courtyard, in front of the fountain.

It was perfect, and you thought maybe things would change between you, maybe you’d be more, however when he didn’t act any different, never mentioned it again, you decided to keep quiet about it too.

In fact, you’d been pretty good at keeping your feelings under wrap since then. Of course, everyone knew how you felt - or at the very least, suspected - but no one said a word (besides Hermione, who you’d confessed everything to after she’d asked about it, knowing she wouldn’t say a word but also that she wouldn’t stop asking until she knew the truth).

And you were fine. Everything was fine. Until you got invited to the Burrow a few weeks before summer ended, and when you’d arrived after a month or so of not seeing Fred, you’d felt winded at his first smile of greeting, and felt your heart beating out of your chest when he’d pulled you into a hug, holding you against him as you buried your face into the jumper he was wearing at the time.

His hair had been cut since you’d last seen him on the Hogwarts Express, and whilst you’d liked the long hair - had enjoyed the way it had felt as you ran your hands through it that one time you’d kissed him - you couldn’t help how attracted you were to him with shorter hair, constantly feeling the urge to tug at it whenever you saw him.

He looked especially good when his hair was all tousled, windswept - exactly like it was as you watched him sitting on his broomstick outside as he waited for his siblings to be ready to play a last practise game of Quidditch before you’d all be leaving for 12 Grimmauld Place before the school year started back up again.

You were sat at a table in the kitchen underneath the large window overlooking the garden, giving you a perfect view of the sunshine and your friends playing Quidditch. Also a perfect view of Fred wearing a tight t shirt, holding his beater’s bat behind his neck, resting it on his shoulder blades as he showed off his biceps and laughed as Ron nearly fell off his broom due to a particularly sharp dig from Ginny’s elbow.

They’d asked if you or Hermione wanted to join, however you knew you wouldn’t be much use playing Quidditch when Fred was being as distracting as his was, and besides, you had a Herbology project to work on. Hermione had also elected not to play, not having much of an interest in playing Quidditch, and instead resided in her room with a book she’d borrowed from Molly.

You glanced out of the window as the boys flew up on their broomsticks, letting the quaffle, snitch and bludgers fly out, immediately beginning to play. You’d always loved watching Quidditch at Hogwarts, cheering for your house and the excitement and thrills that came with it. There was always an added element when you knew that Fred was playing too.

He was a good beater - possibly the best in Hogwarts, tied with George - his actions fluid as he flew around the air with ease, practicing new strategies and working on his skills after a school year of being unable to play due to the Triwizard Tournament taking over.

You watched his arms clench as he hit the bludgers away, his hands grasping the bat in a way you wanted him to grasp you. Something about the way he flew around and hit the bludgers so easily made you sigh contently as you set your quill to one side, forgetting about your project.

The exercise coupled with the midday August heat meant practise didn’t last too long - much to your dismay - but enough to make Fred sweaty, clearly breathing heavily as he jumped off his broom and grabbed a water of bottle he’d discarded to one side before playing.

He downed nearly half the bottle, before wafting his t shirt a little to cool himself down, then suddenly, as if someone had taken one of your daydreams and brought it to life, he lifted the bottle and tipped it over his head, the water cascading down his hair and face.

You watched as if it were in slow motion, the water drenching his already tight-fitting t shirt, the fabric clinging to the outline of his abs as he closed his eyes and let the water cool him down.

His biceps clenched as he brought his arm back down again, and you were once again brought to the attention of his hands gripping the bottle, gaze following along his forearms as you stared at the veins protruding.

Your mouth dropped a little, heart pounding as you watched water droplets fall down his face and collarbone, as he opened his eyes and ran a hand through his now wet hair sticking to his forehead, trying to mess it up a little more.

He then pulled up the bottom of his t shirt to wring out the excess water, exposing his abdomen and suddenly you forgot how to function, barely being able to breathe as you took in the sight.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as she entered the kitchen and wandered by your table, noticing your faraway look and the fact you hadn’t actually started your project yet. She grabbed some leftover food from the counter and turned to look at you.

“Fred Weasley is what’s wrong,” you grumbled, turning away from watching him reluctantly, “He’s infuriating... ly good looking.”

Hermione shook her head with a soft smile, “I really don’t know what you see in him.”

Thoughts of Fred wearing a wet t shirt danced through your mind as you swallowed harshly. “I don’t know either,” you lied.

“Well, let me know if you want any help with your project - I’ve finished mine,” Hermione offered as she headed out of the kitchen. You called out a “Thank you!” to her retreating form as your attention was pulled back to the eldest twin outside.

He was laughing at something someone had said, before he began making his way towards the back door, which so happened to be near where you were sitting.

Your heart was pounding as he entered the room, you averting your gaze from him as you pretended you were looking at anything but him.

“Like what you saw?” His voice suddenly rang out through the room. You looked over at him - it taking all your effort to not stare at the way his shirt was clinging to him - and cleared your throat, blinking up at him innocently.

“Excuse me?”

“Noticed you watching me outside, especially at the end. Darling, do you find me pouring water down myself attractive?” Fred replied with a cheeky grin shot in your direction, before heading over to a high cabinet and grabbing a glass out, filling it from the tap.

“I didn’t even notice,” you shook your head adamantly, sneakily staring at the way his drenched t shirt accentuated the way the muscles in his back moved.

Fred’s smug expression as he turned around told you he didn’t believe you in the slightest, “Are you sure? Because it definitely seemed like you were enjoying the view.”

“Don’t be daft, I’ve been here working on my Herbology project,” you gestured to the parchment in front of you, gulping as you realised you still hadn’t actually written a word down, much less even opened your textbook.

Fred smirked as he noticed this, bringing his glass of water to his lips slowly as he took a sip, “You do realise windows work two ways, right love?”

And indeed, this had been a fact you’d forgotten, in your distracted haze. You felt your heart beating faster as you hoped - prayed - he was just playing around and didn’t actually look up to see you ogling him from the window. How embarrassing.

“I am aware of that, yes,” you nearly stuttered, hoping you came across nonchalantly but knowing by the grin widening on his face that you’d failed.

“So you know I could see you checking me out, right? All your staring,“ he teased, running a hand through his wet hair and making you forget where you were for a moment.

“I wasn’t staring at you,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “I was staring at George.”

“Oh yeah? If that’s true, what colour shirt was George wearing?”

You knew he knew he had you with that, as your mind went blank. Because truthfully, the only person you’d been staring at was, in fact, Fred, and you hated that he was extremely aware of that.

“Green?” You guessed, hoping your guess was miraculously correct. Watching as Fred grinned at you knowingly, you knew immediately you’d gotten it wrong.

“Red,” he corrected and you sighed helplessly.

You stood up to face him properly, pushing your hair back out of your face as you looked up at him. Fred’s eyes travelled down your frame for a few seconds, him absent-mindedly biting his lip at the sight of you.

He blinked, taking in the sight of you wearing denim shorts, fitted to your thighs - thighs he wanted wrapped around him - and his breath caught in his throat as he realised the light coloured shirt you were wearing, knotted at your waist and showing a slither of your stomach, was in fact his.

He found himself distracted, vaguely aware that you were speaking to - or rather, ranting at - him, as he stared at you, before zoning back in just as he heard you say, “I mean, what would you do if I suddenly grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over me?”

Images began flying through his head. There were a lot of things he would do, most of which involved him pressed against you and his hands all over you, preferably with you moaning his name.

“Maybe you should do it and find out,” he said completely seriously, wanting nothing more than to watch as you poured water down yourself.

You rolled your eyes, albeit feeling a tad flustered, “Can you just... change your shirt please.”

“Why, is something distracting you, love?” He asked almost innocently, tilting his head to one side - almost as if in concern, however his cocky grin told you that he knew exactly what he was doing.

You gulped, not being able to stop your eyes from wandering down to his clenched abs, covered by the wet material of his t shirt yet not leaving much to the imagination. He, of course, noticed this and saw an opportunity to tease you even more.

“Well, if you really want me out of this shirt...” he sighed playfully and shook his head with a smile, before placing his glass down and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, and pulling it - slowly - off of him.

You watched as the fabric pulled from his skin, knowing he was doing it on purpose yet not being able to turn away, your mouth dropping a little as he exposed his toned torso, shorts hanging low on his hips.

You felt your mouth go dry, eyes widening a little, both mentally cursing and proposing to him just from this sight alone.

He pulled the shirt over his head and ran a hand through his hair again, and you fought the urge to dramatically collapse back into the chair behind you as he smirked at you.

This boy was going to be the death of you.

“Fred,” you spoke warningly, forcing yourself to look back up to his eyes - which, unfortunately for you, were just as distracting.

“Y/n,” he replied with a cheeky grin, leaning back against the counter, his hands gripping onto the counter sides, making the veins in his forearms pop out, and you swore you lost the ability to breathe in that moment.

“I mean it.”

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he pretended to be innocent, “It’s too hot to wear a t shirt at the moment.”

“You’re too hot,” you mumbled under your breath, then cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t quite catch what you said. When he didn’t react, you assumed he hadn’t and continued on, “You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re insufferable.”

Fred stepped closer to you, enjoying the way your breath hitched as his hand reached out to hold your waist. He then leant forward, his face centimetres from yours, a smirk gracing his lips as his tongue darted out across his bottom lip, “You know you love me.”

“Oh do I now?” You moved a little closer, looking up into his eyes as he moved his lips subconsciously towards yours. “Yeah,” he confirmed, nodding a little, eyes half-lidded, “You do.”

He paused for a moment, his free hand reaching to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as he cupped your jaw, “And I love you.”

“Do you?” You whispered as his lips brushed against yours gently.

“Course I do,” he mumbled, looking at you softly before pressing his lips properly against yours, the hand on your waist squeezing a little before moving to rest against the small of your back, pushing you towards him to ensure there was no space left between you.

His lips moved against yours roughly, his tongue licking into your mouth as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards you. His hands guided themselves to hold the back of your thighs, just under your bum, and you only just heard the “Jump.” that he’d muttered against you, before you did as he said.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and he sat you on the table beside your long-forgotten project, him leaning you back on said table ever so slightly as he gripped your hips. One of your hands moved to lay flat on his bare chest, the other running through his still-damp hair and tugging a little just as you’d imagined.

He pulled away, breathing heavily as he continued to press kisses to your lips, moving down your jaw and towards your neck.

“Still want me to put a shirt back on?” He grinned against your skin. “Nah,” you bit your lip as he kissed just under your ear, before moving to grab his hands in yours, jumping off the table and pulling him towards the stairs, aiming to head towards his bedroom,

“I’d rather just take mine off instead.”

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝THAI FOOD.❞

(not my gif)

summary: you and john argue about something petty. he proceeds to fuck you into the floor.

warnings: smut, HATE SEX, oral sex m receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, arguments, pettiness, dirty talk, use of “good girl”, john cheating on his wife

word count: 2.8k

a/n: *john mulaney voice* okay okay okay okay okay okay

please do not read this fic and assume that i am a john walker apologist. if you’ve been following my blog, you’ll know that i DESPISE john walker and everything he stands for, but at the same time...this is dedicated to all the people who found his descent into madness hot, i wrote this fic instead of going to therapy

(and i should really go to therapy)

so uh if this flops i was never here

//////

The sunset was milky with colour as you swayed on the swing. Ever since you were little it had been rusty, always made nails-on-chalkboard creaks, and no one had ever bothered to fix it, but it was home, which was perhaps why you found yourself sitting there alone as you tried to control your breath.

He had you counting to ten again.

You knew John Walker was married, knew what he was like back in high school, and it had become international news when he’d decapitated an anarchist in broad daylight over in Europe, but still you found yourself responding to his text message when he slid into your DMs a week ago asking about vibranium alternatives, now here you were. You were a chemical metallurgist, you’d dedicated your whole life to the study, and as soon as you’d graduated from Custer’s Grove you’d booted yourself up to Cambridge to study at MIT, but you leapt at the chance to visit your Georgia hometown again.

And Jesus fucking Christ, Jonathan Walker was still as insufferable as he was when it was cool to date someone on the football team.

Why could he not understand that you were only human? Why could he not understand that you had, despite running tests on practically all the vibranium in the US that wasn’t the property of the Avengers, never been to Wakanda where it was sourced, and why the fuck was he absolutely prodding you over stupidly specific scenarios and circumstances that weren’t even going to happen? What absolute moron would try to take on the National Guard by himself?

The pull out couch that his wife Olivia was nice enough to assemble for you was always cold and hard at the end of the day, and as you stared up at the shuddering AC, you counted down the hours until you’d be able to go back to Cambridge and pretend like none of this had happened. None of this had to happen, you were just an idiot.

Now you inhaled the cool outside breeze, hating yourself.

You told John you were going on a walk twenty minutes ago. He’d gone apeshit when you said it would be impossible to replicate vibranium’s boomerang-like tendencies, he would be wondering where you’d gone by now. He’d had enough decency to tell you to bring a jacket as you retreated. 

You knew parts of him still cared about you, and God, you wanted to believe there was at least a shred of high school him there. Most of your high school relationship had been performative, but you loved attempting to escape the Evangelical parts of Custer’s Grove with him because it always ended up with you two sitting on the roof of a “closed for repairs” ice cream parlour miles out, staring at a sunset similar to the one in front of you now. The marina, he called it. It was a pathetic excuse for a marina.

Get your mind to work, you told yourself.

Boomerangs spun to create unbalanced aerodynamic forces, causing it to curve into a kind of elliptical shape, that was why they came back, this was basic, you’d learned it years ago. If John somehow succeeded in making a new Captain America shield for whatever reason and didn’t choose to sell it on Wish, would you be able to do anything to make sure it returned to its holder? Probably not, it’d be way too heavy, it was way too heavy now, it would just fall to the ground like a pathetic piece of spraypainted metal, which was technically all it was.

You picked at your nails as the last of the sunset disappeared into the treeline.

Time to go.

//////

When you got back to the house, you immediately noticed that Olivia’s shoes had disappeared from the doorway and John had actually taken a break from sulking in the basement, he was scrubbing dishes at the sink.

“I finished spraypainting,” he said casually as you closed the door behind yourself and shook off your sandals.

“Where’s Olivia?” you demanded flatly, ignoring his last sentence on purpose.

You saw him stiffen.

“Out,” he answered, his voice suddenly becoming as flat as yours, “She wanted Thai, I let her go.”

“I hate Thai.”

CRACK!

He’d quite literally pulled apart a plate with his hands: you hadn’t realized how much he was twitching since you’d gotten in.

“That’s what we’re having,” he hissed.

Oh, so you were fighting over this now?

You felt familiar rage bubble up in your chest. “You could’ve at least fucking texted me.”

“I did, but then I realized you left your fucking phone here,” he spat, dropping the shards of the plate and letting it float underneath the soapy water, “You do realize you could’ve been kidnapped, right? Have you forgotten what it’s like to live in the Grove?”

“I’m not your fucking dog on a leash,” you snarled with everything you had. “Jesus Christ, you have Olivia for that.”

SLAM!

John slammed his hands on the base of the counter, and with an ugly snap, the granite cracked. 

“We’re getting Thai food,” he hissed, but his voice shook, ruining the authority. “I don’t wanna do this right now.”

“For someone who failed drama class back in high school, you’re acting awfully dramatic right now,” you shot back coolly, folding your arms. Sure, he’d been insufferable in high school, but if he pushed you-- which he was doing right now-- you could turn into a bitch on a dime.

And yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart race as he turned around and approached you.

You instinctively backed into the wall.

When you opened your mouth, no words came out. He was suddenly so close you could see every pore on his cheeks.

You turned away on impulse, but you couldn’t help but notice the strange stuffiness that was filling the kitchen like a poisonous gas. Maybe that was why your heart rate was going as fast as it was, and maybe that was why the warmness was threatening to shoot up your neck at the faintest enabling.

You were shivering as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“You’re gonna stop acting like a frigid bitch over Thai food, and then you’re gonna stop pretending like you don’t know how to improve the shield. Then you’ll be able to fuck off back to wherever you moved to after high school, and we’ll pretend like none of this ever happened.”

John paused.

“Do you understand me?”

You were overcome by a wild urge to spit in his face, but you held it back.

(Just barely.)

Instead, you turned to face him and licked your lips.

“You will never be Captain America.”

That did it: the sudden humidity around both of you came to a head, and John forced his lips onto yours so fiercely your natural response was to kiss him back, even though it was completely insane. You felt hands on your body-- you gasped on his lips, his hands were frozen and still slightly soapy from the dishes-- and you let him tear your clothes off as mercilessly as he could. It was like you’d thrown your moral compass out of the window: you were already yanking at his shirt and stumbling forward.

WIth a clatter, you’d tumbled to the kitchen floor, and you were pushing yourself onto him, all tongue and teeth.

“God, you drive me crazy sometimes,” John growled as he yanked your jeans down your ass; you were struggling to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“I fucking should,” you countered, and just like that, you kissed him harder, your teeth tearing into his lips and your tongue careening into his mouth. A horrible yet glorious feeling was searing through your chest: you wanted to treat him like a city you could burn to the ground, a reality you could shred to its last atom, and you drank it all up.

And then you had the air knocked out of you.

Your head hit the tile so hard your vision spun, and all you knew was that John was on top of you, glaring at you so malevolently all your nerves clenched.

“Baby, you’re gonna be fucking crying when I’m finished with you.”

You wrapped your legs around him at that, and then you were kissing, more languidly and sinful than anything you’d ever experienced, and you tangled your hands in his hair, absolutely collapsing into his harsh warmth. He was rocking against you fully clothed.

You skipped heaven and went straight to hell.

You pawed at his zipper, pulling it down just enough to get his cock out, and seeing what you were getting at, he pushed you against the wall and shoved himself into your mouth.

John wasn’t taking it easy on you. He gripped the back of your hair and fucked into your mouth, pushing as far as he could into your throat. You gagged and sputtered around him for all it was worth, gasping for air as he pulled you off for a moment.

He brushed a strand of your hair out of the way, and for a minute you thought he was going to stop this madness, but he only shoved himself back in so fiercely you couldn’t help but moan around his length.

He groaned at that, and you felt something warm gush between your legs. The feeling was enough to make you part your legs just the tiniest bit-- your knees were screaming in pain from being pressed so harshly into the tile-- but you kept going, flattening your tongue around the underside of his cock. You might’ve hated him right now, but you were determined to suck him off the best you could. By the look on his face, you were succeeding.

“Good girl,” John muttered, finally pulling himself off you.

“I really fucking hate you,” you spat, but his cock was so hot and hard and dripping, it would be so easy to take him once more like this--

But he had the super serum and you’d never been athletic, so there was little you could do when he gripped your arm and forced you to move.

John laid you down on the floor, flipping you over on all fours and pushing your face down into the tile, ass up for him. You gasped at his strength, and a moan left your lips as he spanked you harshly. 

“Jesus,” he commented as he pressed a finger inside of you, no warning. “Just wanna be split open, all stretched out on my cock?”

“Fuck you,” you gasped, trying to swallow your moans. That earned you another finger. 

His fingers delved in and out of you at a surprisingly fast pace, making you gasp and jut against the stimulation, and you sank your teeth into your forearm so you wouldn’t scream out. No way would you give him the satisfaction, but from the groans spilling out of John’s mouth, it looked like he wouldn’t have cared.

You knew you were dripping onto his fingers. You fucking knew it.

“God, fuck,” you gasped as he rubbed your clit: you hated being this easy, but here you were, becoming completely undone because of his two fingers. The feeling twisted in your gut, it was getting bigger and bigger, preparing for an inevitable release.

Blood was rushing into your cheeks at the sheer thought of it.

John Walker? Seriously?

You could’ve see it coming from a mile away, but somehow the feeling still blindsided you: you were coming, the orgasm rushing through you and soaking your inner thighs, making them gleam. Gasping, your body hot as lava, euphoria coursed through your brain, and for a moment, tiny white spots appeared in your vision.

No fucking way. John fucking Walker, of all people, had made you come.

Did he ever fuck Olivia like this?

You really fucking hoped not, not when he reached forward and pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, finger-fucking you through your orgasm.

John groaned senselessly as he crooked a finger inside of you, pushing even further, and you moaned loudly. 

“You’re dripping,” he whispered. The disastrously low tone of his voice made you clench around his fingers, and feeling it, he let out a smug little laugh that had you squirming underneath him. “That do something for you, sweetheart?”

Under him, you were gasping without rhythm, sanity slipping in and out of your grasp as your legs shook, threatening to make you come again and again until it would be impossible to handle it. The blood thundering in your ears made it hard to think: you could barely handle being fucked by a man affected by the super serum as it was, and John showed no signs of stopping.

When you didn’t answer, he slapped your cheek - not enough force to be called harsh, but enough for you to startle, blinking fast. “Answer me when I talk to you.”

“Yeah,” you said blindly, clenching your fists at the humiliation. “Yeah - yes, it did.”

Fuck, you hated John for being so smug. “Yeah, I already know.”

The next thing you were conscious of feeling was him slipping his fingers out of your pussy, his fingers coated in your glistening arousal, and you automatically opened your mouth to suck them clean. 

“Filthy little slut,” John spat from above you, and you couldn’t help it, you batted your eyelashes up at him-- seductively? Mischievously? 

Whatever it was, you whined louder than ever as you felt the head of his cock breach your pussy, splitting you open.

“Fuck, so tight,” you whimpered, or maybe you’d said it in your head, you didn’t really know because he’d already started moving, driving his cock deeper and sending a curious burning sensation up your pussy, which raced up your abdomen and practically exploded at your neck. You were sure your face was bright red now.

“More,” you gasped at the ceiling, and then it was on.

In the days to come you wouldn’t remember the way how harshly his hips slammed against yours, or the way he fucked into you like you were a medium to release all his rage, and he certainly wouldn’t feel the scratches you carved into his neck. Neither of you were thinking about Olivia: all you knew was he was fucking you on the kitchen floor and you never wanted him to stop.

God, that serum had really brought out an interesting change in him.

You came for what felt like the fiftieth time screaming his name, and it was then John decided to force your hands high over your head while gripping the nape of your neck, wrapping you in a kiss that effectively muffled your cries. You melted at his touch– he was so big and strong and physically superior, he could press you into the floor and stop all chances of you struggling with just one hand. Not like you’d ever want to struggle with the way he was fucking you: the way he was handling you was the complete opposite of gentle, and you loved it. John was heaving against you, unrelenting, and if this was a fight, you didn’t want to yield.

You were aching all over, your knees were stinging and your shoulderblades were rubbing uncomfortably against the kitchen tile, but you didn’t care, you succumbed to the dominance and kissed him back.

John groaned right in your ear, and his hand fell from your neck to grip your ass tightly, rocking his body into yours effortlessly.

“Oh, god,” you whispered, the way he stretched you out making you so dripping wet.

BANG!

You heard the familiar sound of a car door slamming in the distance, and it snapped you both back to reality at the same time.

“Shit!”

John reacted faster than you did: he pulled himself off of you, clearly wanting to save nobody but his own ass, and you heard a zipping noise as you fumbled for your bra, which was half-crumpled from underneath your shirt. The last thing you saw was him disappearing for the basement before you flung yourself at the stairs.

As Olivia approached the front door, you were now panicking for yourself.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

You slid and nearly fell onto the tile, but that didn’t matter, you needed to get out of view before Olivia reached the front door.

The stupid bastard had actually ripped a good length of seam on your jeans, so you haphazardly threw a blanket over most of your body and reached for your phone, hoping to God it looked like you were doing something normal.

You saw Olivia jut the door open with her hip.

“I’m home, I brought Thai!” she called out.

You forced your face into a shiny smile as you glanced up. “Great!”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

~

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

An old friend - Part 1

Summary: You're back in London after years living in the countryside and tonight you're attending the Cowper's ball. Who knows who'll you meet there?

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Other characters: Violet Bridgerton, Sir Hugh Feversham (OMC)

Words: 2k+

Warnings: very slight mentions of attempt at harassment, a bit of Regency-era yearning

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Not my gif, credit to the rightful owner

Whoever entered the Cowper’s estate to attend that evening’s ball would’ve been blinded by the richness of the decorations: the cristalized tears of the chandeliers glimmered in the dancing lights of the candles and at every corner colourful flowers spread their sweet and enchanting scent all around the huge ballroom.

Every person in it could just stare in silent awe of the magnificent view, taking in even the smallest detail as the music caressed their ears, a silk touch to the soul... but to you, that wonder was your last interest.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

You, right now, had the hardest task to accomplish: lose in the huge crowd a terribly improper suitor, Sir Hugh Feversham, who followed you in the gardens and tried to forcefully kiss you. Luckily the slap he received had shocked him enough to give you a ten seconds headstart before he stubbornly followed.

“Miss Y/L/N, please.” His voice was closer than before, so you tried to quicken your pace without looking like running away from anyone. ”If I could just explain myself to you...”

Part of you just wanted to turn and face him - or to be more accurate, slap him, again - and thus expose his terrible behaviour to every soul in the room. However another part of you, the thoughtful and rational one, knew that the situation in which you were tangled was very inconvenient, with or without your willingness to be part of it.

Keeping this in mind, avoiding him for the rest of the night was the best choice you had, if not the only one. Nevertheless, you couldn’t spend every second left at the ball running in circles trying to outrun him... you needed somewhere to hide.

Since the gardens were off-limits, you scanned the room, looking for a dark corner in which you could disappear or, even better, a friendly face who could save you. But having just moved back in London after years living in the countryside, you wouldn’t recognize an old friend even if you bumped into them.

As you kept walking, a kind voice reached your ears: “You must dance at least with one girl, Anthony. You can’t stand here on the side while many young ladies wait hopelessly to be asked a dance”

That name stopped you in your track, opening memories you thought you forgot. It couldn't be...

Slowly turning to the woman and the young man she was talking to, you scanned them closely, searching in their faces those features you kept for so long in your mind.

“Lady Bridgerton?”

The woman turned towards you with a gentle smile on her face, even though her eyes scanned you with a puzzled look. "Shall I know you, dear?"

"I believe not". You curtseyed, somehow remembering the manners you've been learning since you were born. "It has been a while since we last saw each other"

"Then would you please us with your name, miss?"

You moved your eyes on the young man, Anthony Bridgerton, his furrowed glare locked on you. He probably thought you were some crazy lady or whatever... he surely didn't remember.

"Of course, my lord. I'm-"

"Miss Y/L/N" Lady Bridgerton's eyes finally widened in recognition. She left her son's arm and took your hand in hers. "It has been quite some time. You left that you were just a child but now..." - she took another look at you, from head to toe - "you've bloomed into a beautiful woman"

You gently squeezed her hand. "It's a true joy seeing a friendly face in this buzzing crowd. You wouldn't believe what happened to me just-"

"Miss Y/L/N"

You tightened the grip on Lady Bridgerton's hand when Sir Hugh appeared by your side.

"I've finally caught up with you" he smiled, slick as he was in the garden. "I believe we could talk better on the dancefloor"

He stretched out his hand but you didn't want to take it; every inch of your body screamed to stay away from him. However you had no excuse to refuse him a dance without exposing yourself in the meantime.

You let go of Violet's hand, ready take Sir Hugh's, when a third hand broke in between the two of you.

"Sadly sir, miss Y/L/N is already engaged for this dance", and with that, Anthony guided you to the dancefloor, just in time for a waltz.

"I believe you just saved me" you sighed in relief, watching your suitor finally walking away. "I shall be forever in debt with you, Lord Bridgerton"

"Please, call me Anthony" he murmured with a knowing smile gracing his lips. "We know each other too well to be bothered by these titles"

You raised your eyebrows, faking surprise. "Are you to tell me you haven't changed in the slightest, my lord? Even after all these years?"

"Surely I have, but deep down I'm still the boy who ran with you down the hallways of our estate", and looking in his eyes, you caught a glimpse of the mischievous kid you once knew.

You smiled. "So you do remember me"

"My lady... you wound me". Anthony pulled you closer, leaning over your shoulder. "A gentleman never forgets his first kiss"

“A real gentleman would never discuss such matters while dancing with a lady” you reminded him. “Besides, we were nothing but two kids trying to emulate adults: I remember well the disgusted look on your face as you run back crying to your mother”

You noticed an hint of red on your partner’s face but he didn’t seem to care. “Shall I not cherish those old days regardless?” Anthony fixed your gaze in yours. “I recall adventures in the wild corners of the gardens, afternoons spent searching for treasures through my mother’s drawers and rainy days watching my father’s atlas on the settee near the library’s window...”

"...dreaming of all the places we would visit together" you finished for him, smiling fondly at those memories. "I do miss those times: everything was much more easier back then"

"Indeed" Anthony's grip on your hand slightly tightened as the look on his face grew serious. "Now, would you like to tell me what that man has done to put you in such distress a moment ago?"

You freezed in his arms, almost losing the tempo of the dance. "I don't think you would like to hear it..."

"That is for sure" he agreed. "But I need to know what happened. This way I shall find a way to help you"

"And how could you possibly help me?"

"You would be surprised by the power I have, miss Y/L/N". Then, after a twirl: "So? Are you going to enlighten me or shall I beg you?"

With a sigh, you told him what had happened in the gardens, even though the mere remembering gave you chills down your spine.

"I truly cannot understand why he did that" you told him, shaking your head. "I was just trying to make some new acquaintances and he seemed nice... but I did not gave him any hints that I fancied him!"

"I'm sure you didn't, but some men know nothing of honor and virtue". His knitted brow framed a marble face. "I shall make sure Sir Hugh Feversham is exposed for his actions. If he did something to you, rest assured that many other ladies will have more to say on the matter"

Finally, a smile appeared again on your face. "I can't find the words to convey how grateful I am to you, my lord"

"It's the least I can do for an old friend" he said, his mouth now mirroring yours.

For a moment, you just spinned around the room, letting the music guide your steps as you gazed in each other's eyes. You felt so light that it seemed your feet weren't even touching the floor.

"I know this might sound egoistical" Anthony said, breaking the silence, "but, as much as this experience must have been terrible for you, I'm delighted that it brought you back to me, Y/N". His hand moved to the centre of your back, his eyes never leaving yours. You didn't realise how disgracefully close the two of you had gotten. "I shall believe we will see each other more frequently from now on, if you still enjoy my company"

It took you a moment to realise the music had stopped and you two were now still on the dancefloor as everyone moved around like bees above flowers. A shaky breath left your lips.

"I fail to see how I could deny my presence to you after so long"

The smile Anthony gave you took away the last air in your lungs. Suddenly your corset felt too tight around your chest as he put a hand on your elbow to gently pull you to the side of the room. His mother was there, a pleased smile tugging her lips.

"You're a marvelous dancer, my dear, lighter than a butterfly" she said, before looking at you with worry. "Are you quite alright? You seem slightly overheated..."

"I'm feeling wonderfully, Lady Bridgerton. It has been a very pleasant dance, your son is very talented" you swiftly cut her off, taking the focus away from your flushed cheeks.

"I only wish he would show his hidden talents more often" she sighed, giving a side glare to Anthony who simply rolled his eyes. You stifled a laugh, curtseying once more.

"It's been the most welcome surprise meeting you here, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for being so kind to me"

"The pleasure was all ours". She took again your hand in hers, smiling at you just like a mother would. "And I shall hope we will see you again soon. Perhaps tomorrow for tea? I'm certain your presence will be appreciated by everyone in the household"

You kindly accepted Violet's offer, promising to take her greetings to your mother.

She then eyed Benedict on the other side of the ballroom. "I shall go now and retrieve all my dear children". When Anthony offered his arm to her, she gently shook her head. "There's no need. I'm capable of wander through these rooms without a chaperone. But thank you, dear".

You watched her walk off to his second son and giggled seeing Benedict's resigned look when Violet caught his arm. Like a predator on its prey.

"Even after all those years, my family doesn't fail to make you laugh"

At Anthony's comment you felt the heat in the room rising once again. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to offend-"

"You couldn't offend us even if you tried". He smiled again at you, earning a shy smile from you as well. Then he took your hand.

"Are you to dance with me twice in a evening, Lord Bridgerton?" you asked cheekily. "I wonder what the ton would say".

"As much as I would like to be the next front-page scandal of Lady Whistledown," he said, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand, "I shall now reunite with my family as well"

You lowered your gaze, cursing your boldness more than ever. "Of course, my lord"

"But it has been a pleasure dancing with you, miss Y/L/N. And trust my word when I say that isn't something I can often admit"

He didn't wait for your answer. He took your gloved hand to his mouth, placing on the fabric over your knuckles a light kiss. As your heart pounded against the strings of your corset, you never wished so hardly your skin was bare just were he touched it.

"Goodnight, miss Y/L/N". Anthony bowed. Then, his voice the softest whisper: "Tomorrow won't come fast enough, my lady, and I shall wait impatiently for us to be in the same room again"

Breathless, you watched him walk away, his phantom touch lingering on your hand. You slowly moved it to your mouth, placing a kiss just were he did and with closed eyes, it was like kissing his lips.

"Goodnight, Anthony"

[acdeaky]

to tell you the truth (i’m still in love with you)

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of sex

note: oscar isaac’s hot, no question. anyway, enjoy this, babies

word count: 3.3k

gif credit: @damerondjarin

it was dark out when you woke. the loud, incessant banging on the front door of your apartment had jerked you awake, and the minimal amount of lighting coming through the curtains let you know it was very early - or very late.

a part of you was tempted to roll back over under your sheets, pull them up to your chin and fall back asleep, but the knocking only seemed to become louder and more frequent.

you pulled off your covers and flicked on the small lamp by your bedside. your clock showed 2:43 as you shook your head and began to make your way through your small apartment to answer whoever thought it was a good idea to show up at your door right now.

you had an idea who it could be. there had been a few times when santiago had appeared on your doorstep in distress. on those occasions, you coaxed him inside with soft words and gentle touches as he pulled himself in on heavy feet, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders.

looking through your peephole, you knew this would be no different as you noticed the familiar stubble and greying hair of santiago’s, looking ever the same after three years. even after so long, you were who he crawled to, the only person who could calm the noise in his head.

the locks clicked as they were shifted, the hinges creaking afterwards as you pull the door open.

and, just as you knew, there he was. santiago’s usual, confident self was gone; even just looking at the way he held himself could tell you that. it almost looked like he was leaning against an invisible pole, his old stance gone, a new, tired one filling its place.

but he was here, and alive, and even after three years the only thing you could think of was-

“hi.” was all he said, a duffel bag by his feet and his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. 

“hi, welcome home.” you simply spoke, leaning against your doorframe, feeling like your heart was about the burst the longer you stood and looked at him. 

“do you know?” there was a slight quiver to his voice and his head dipped down from yours. “do you know where i went?” 

“frankie told me. when you left that night, i waited a couple of days for you to come back. then i asked fish if he knew where you were and he said you were in south america. i asked when you’d be back and he didn't know. i didn't expect you to be back three years later.”

you could almost remember that day, as clear as if it happened yesterday. the night before he left, your best friend, santiago garcia, invited himself to your apartment - like many nights - and brought dinner. he laid the excuse as wanting to spend time with you, have a night like you used to (even though it had only been a week or so since you last did something like this together). 

but santiago didn't take no for an answer; he let himself through the door and began pulling out containers of food and a couple of bottle of drinks. you welcomed it pleasantly, happy to be spending a night with just him, just santi, no tom or benny or will or frankie. no comments about your relationship, no teasing over your choice of drink (or teasing in general, which santiago would always reply with ‘they mean well’, and you know they do). 

a few hours later, the food was gone and you had both had a few drinks. the sun was settling down on the horizon and, if you looked carefully, you could begin to see the moon creeping up behind it. the red and orange sky covered your open room with light, bringing in a peaceful glow with it. the light settled on santiago, like it was used to his body and the dips and bumps covering him. 

he looked like a vision, ethereal. a beautiful dream which you had experienced so many times and you were selfish enough to only want to see it yourself for the end of time. you believed no one would appreciate it like you do, no one would find the same amount of beauty as you find in santiagoas he lets himself bask in the light. 

neither of you had realised that you had moved closer to each other over the course of the evening. you had started on almost opposite sides of the sofa, but now found your thighs pressed against the other’s, you shoulders bumping into each other’s as you moved. 

santiago’s music was playing in the background. at some point - god knows when - he had gone into the kitchen and, as he came back, the soft notes of his favourite song floated from the speakers and settled around you two. he handed you another drink, sitting back onto the sofa and leaning slightly towards you, his arm slung across the back cushions. his hand landed on your shoulder, and his fingers began drawing light patterns across your skin while he conversed with you. 

it was something that rarely happened. santiago had done this with you before, that being eating, drinking and relaxing, allowing the music to pull you from the real world as you talked until the early hours. never been so close and intimate. at the time, you thought nothing of it as his lips came to meet yours in a delicate attempt at confessing his feelings. 

the words “i've fallen in love with you” escaping his lips as they ghosted against yours, his breath hot and sticky against your skin as you replied, “i've fallen in love with you, too”.

santiago made you feel things you'd never felt before that night. he touched you with softness behind it, allowing his lips to travel wherever they could reach before picking you up off the sofa and trekking through the apartment to your room. 

the two of you spent the night together filling it with passion, giggled and delicate kisses. neither of you could get enough of one another. to you, he tasted so good, like nothing you've ever endured before, something good and amazing and so characteristically santiago. to him, you tasted like home, a forever presence that he refused to get rid of. 

and he really didn't want to. 

come morning, the sheets beside you were cold and pulled back. the couple of bits he haphazardly threw on the bedside table the night before were gone and so were the clothes you remember tugging from his body. the only thing he left was his jacket; it was the one you loved on him, that smelt like him. alongside it was a note, the words ‘i love you, but there's something i have to do’ were carefully engraved on the paper. 

that's when you waited. you gave santiago a few days to do whatever it was before you turned to frankie. that was a difficult conversation in itself and you could tell that frankie was as confused and conflicted as you were. he offered you an answer, more than santiago had given you, and a response to a question that no one in the world could answer, not even santiago. 

“i'm sorry-” 

“santi,” you stopped him, not wanting to do this - whatever it was - on the doorstep of your apartment at almost three in the morning. “do you - its late - but do you wanna come in?”

santiago looked back up at you, seeing your warm smile and kind eyes, something he had missed for the last three years. “yeh- yes, please.” you gave him a light nod, stepping further back into your apartment to give him space to pull himself through with his duffle bag. 

even after three years, he was still your santi. the cap he adorned was one you had spotted and persuaded him to buy; one which he had worn almost every single day since he went away. the jacket was new, one to replace his other one, but it fit him well, allowing his broad shoulders a chance to be seen. the colour suited him, too, a dark navy blue. 

he was heavy on his feet as he entered, shuffling around like he was a stranger in a foreign country as he thought about where was best to leave his bag. that had been his life for the past three years; everything he had and knew lived in there while he was deep in the jungles of south america. 

much to his surprise, he came back unscarred, physically at least. of course, his knees had taken a hit during his - mission? - and the neck surgery he gotten gotten the year before hadn't helped much either. but aside from that, he would be fine, so long as the nightmares were kept at bay, no one would think any different of santiago. 

but you weren't just anyone. you had seen santiago in his most vulnerable states, in every sense of the phrase. there was almost nothing you didn't know about him, but now, there was a large part of him you were a stranger to. without even knowing a tiny part of what had happened, you knew the santiago who was currently in front of you, sweaty hands and shaking nerves, was a different man to the one who left you three years ago. 

three years. god, santiago had changed, as had you. you had never been with someone since. many people had tried to win your affection, attempting to entice you with the promise of dinner and a sense of forever, but you didn't want that anyone but him, a man who was on a completely different continent and who had probably had many others beside him in his bed since that one night. 

regardless of how he had acted out there, your love never faltered, unlike your hope for his return. the light inside of you which had been sparked by santiago’s promise of love had quickly diminished when you began to believe that he would never come home. 

but you wouldn't think any different of him. he just didn't know that. 

“can i-”

“i'm sorry for-” you both began, santiago seemingly wanting to smooth things out above anything else. “you go.”

“no, no, it’s okay. i just- do you wanna sit?” he nodded, watching your finger point towards your sofa in the open space. it was the one where that night began, but most definitely didn't end. you knew that. he knew that. but you weren't offering a seat in a malicious way, wanting to see him squirm and suffer while making him remember what happened that night, you could see that he was tired. it was the least you could do. 

so santiago took your offer, turning away from you in a vain attempt at calming himself down. that wouldn't happen until things were sorted, until he felt that you knew everything. he just wanted to say- 

“what happened?” you whispered into the quiet, turning on a small light to light up the room. it glowed over the sofa, settling around your bodies as you moved to sit down next to santiago, not completely ready for how long this could take. 

but he was. santiago knew everything that happened in those years and it would not take a few minutes to tell. there was too much to say and almost not enough time. 

the story began with his time colombia, working for the police as a private military advisor. next came lorea and santiago’s escapades with his informant in search for the drug lord. he explains the house - the safe - and the job, how he roped benny and tom and will and frankie into helping him with the job. 

he didn't even make it through the mountains - tom. 

and something about the night feels strangely familiar. with the two of you, sat there, being shielded from the world only by your thin curtains, it felt like home. familiarity. the thing that seemed to have left you three years ago and escaped to south america.

your bodies were pressed into each other’s sides, the feeling of just another person being there after so long brings about comfort in the both of you. a warm, calloused hand of his sat in the both of yours, a thumb gently rubbing over the back of his hand.

somehow, your eyes were trained to santiago’s head throughout his story, never leaving his body for a second in case you missed something, anything. as for him, his eyes never left your joined hands, watching the delicacy of your movements, concentrating his sight on something so small, but so significant to him.

it was silent for a few moments after he finished. santiago kept his head down, watching the comfort on his hands, whereas your eyes were darting over his entire body, taking him in, thinking how much you had missed him.

“i’m so sorry, santi.” your voice was quiet, like earlier, only just drifting from your mouth and into his ears. that’s when he moved, shaking his head before looking up at you, finally meeting your eyes for the second time in years.

“no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have just up and left like that, especially after what happened the night before.” there was a small smile on your face at that reminder and you hadn’t even noticed the quiver in his voice.

“it’s okay,” one of your hands left his thigh, moving upwards to cup santiago’s cheek, the stubble a little longer than usual. “you’re here now, and everything will be okay.”

his eyes closed as you allowed yourself this time to look at him. there was exhaustion buried deep inside of his skin, the usual relaxed look that he held whenever he closed his eyes was gone. it seemed that only a shell of the man you used to know came back from south america.

but you knew he was there. you knew your santiago was there, underneath it all. that’s why you held him. and that’s why you’d continue to hold him for as long as he needed you to.

without much thinking, you leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his for only a second. an innocent kiss, much different to the ones you two had shared before he left, but it meant more to you both than either of you could describe.

then, as delicate as ever, one of his hands reached up to join your own, his large palm completely covering the back of yours. “come on,” you whispered, your free hand moving to card through his unruly curls. “let’s get you to bed.”

a slight nod was your only answer, that and the lack of resistance he gave you your hands grabbing his and helping him up from the sofa. everything stayed where it landed, neither you nor santiago making any effort to grab his bag and pull it into your room.

it almost seemed domestic. almost. as you crawled back under your covers, santi stripped off his jacket, leaving him in just a dark t-shirt. his jeans followed, the metal of the buckles clashing together as he pulled them off. the hat was last, being placed gently on your chest of drawers before he made his way over to you.

like usual, you welcomed him, pulling back the covers just enough for him to slip under, shuffling his body closer to yours. as he laid on his back, you took the silent invitation to press into his side. just as any other time, your head rested on his chest, both of your arms wrapping around the other’s body.

santiago let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling so slowly it felt like you let one out, too. maybe you did, but it wasn’t important with where you were and who you were with in that moment. he was finally home, back and safe in your arms and not in a godforsaken dark corner of the narcotics war.

you fell back asleep to the steady beat of his heart, his hands running up and down your skin as he tries to soothe himself to sleep. eventually he does, well after you, but he feels safe this time, being back in your arms doing wonders for his mind.

it felt as if it had only been a few moments, but it wasn’t long before you could feel the rise and fall of santiago’s chest again, but this time on your back. the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck was calming, that and the warmth of his hand over your exposed skin.

“we should get up, honey.” he says delicately, his voice rough with sleep, dry sounding, and you can feel him behind you, his eyes just barely opening as he decides to start his day. you feel guilty that you wish he wasn't awake, even as he reaches closer, an arm tightening around your waist as the other slips between the pillows and your head, reaching out for your hand as your other lands on his forearm, affectionate, loving. 

there was no use in pretending you weren't awake, your need to touch him, to feel him and know he was there and not in some god forsaken place in colombia, too great to even attempt to stay in his arms longer. 

“we shouldn't.” you mutter, turning your head to press into his skin, soft, warm. your fingers danced across his bronzed skin, keeping your lips pressed against his bicep as you did so.

santiago was complacent behind you, not even bothering to attempt to stay true to his words as he reveled in you, your warmth, your love, the exact thing he had missed all these years. his breath was still warm on the back of your neck, his lips only ghosting over your skin. even after last night, after the sacred kisses and emotions you’d shared, this is what stumped him.

it was only a few minutes later when you twisted onto your back, your hand leaving santi’s as you shifted to face him instead of hiding away. the hand that had left his own cradled his exposed cheek, your thumb carressing the delicate skin.

the beautiful brown eyes you love were still hidden by sleep-ridden eyelids. the only indication that he was awake being the small smile that adorned his face as you continued your ministrations, your own eyes flittering over his features like he would disappear, again.

“are you still in love with me?” he asked, breaking the silence without even opening his eyes to look at you, “after everything i’ve done?” his voice was so quiet, so petrified of your response, especially when that gentle hand stopped moving. god, never stop holding him like that.

“i’ve always been in love with you, santiago,” you assured him, guiding your hand to the back of his head to pull him even closer to you, fingers tangling in his short curls, “i don’t think i can ever stop.”

“can i tell you the truth?” his eyes finally met yours, confidently shifting the hand on your hip around you to press flat against your back, bringing your chests closer, bringing you closer.

“please.” it was a whisper, a beg, your plea for him to tell you what you already knew.

“i’m still in love with you.”

-

if anyone wants to be tagged in my oscar writing, let me know!

taglist: @shes-over-bored @i-barely-go-on-online @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @goldhoran @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawings @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen​ @bhxrdy

santiago taglist: @stardust-galaxies @kindablackenedsuperhero

people who i think may like: @damerondjarin @unstoppableforcce @starryeyedstories @sergeantkane @youvebeenlivingfictional @writefightandflightclub @anetteaneta

[leossmoonn]

Little Pierce || Part 2

part 1 | masterlist

pairing - stefan salvatore x fem!reader

type - fluff, angst

note - this was a requested by @butterflycloss​, enjoy!! request was: Stefan and y/n having feelings clearly and either one isn’t doing the first move, maybe y/n being angry because katherine turned stefan and then running away? And stefan finding her and elena? 

summary - after your sister, katherine, turns stefan into a vampire, you run away. 164 years later, you run into stefan again and things are not the same

warnings - language, mention of suicide, little violence, lil frisky at the end lol 

————

*gif isn’t mine* lets just acknowledge how hot stefan looks with that expression. like mmm i have my username like that for a reason 

Mystic Falls, 1864

“Hello, Lady Y/n,” Stefan smiled and walked down the stairs of his house. 

“Hi, Stefan. Fancy meeting you here,” you smiled and curtsied. 

Stefan smiled and took a look over you. You were absolutely ravishing. You were wearing a sage-coloured dress. The bottom of the dress puffed out below your waist and the sleeves went across your shoulders with ruffles hanging off, exposing your shoulders. 

“Well, this is my home,” Stefan said. 

“I know. Your father had said you were going to be out with Damon, though,” you said. 

Stefan furrowed his brows, “Damon is upstairs with Katherine.”

“Oh, really,” you raised your brows. 

Stefan nodded and went in front of you. He took your hand in his, shyly intertwining them. You smiled widely and pulled him closer to you, looking at his lips. Oh, how you wished you could pull him into a kiss.  

“Yes, they have been upstairs for a few hours. Are you hungry? Dinner’s being made,” Stefan said. He scooted closer to you, touching your forehead with his. 

You heard his heart beat loudly in your ears, the blood pulsing in his veins. You controlled yourself, though, not wanting to scare him off. You liked Stefan. A lot. You were practically in love with him just in the few weeks you’ve known him. You two hadn’t done anything since your first kiss at your first meeting. You were nervous about insinuating anything again. It was silly, you knew, but you weren’t sure if he liked you back or not. He gave you mixed signals that turned you off from the idea of kissing him again. 

“I would love to join you for dinner, thank you,” you smiled and leaned back. 

You saw Stefan’s gaze at your lips and you smirked. Even if you were scared of insinuating anything, that didn’t mean you could tease him to the world’s end. 

“Do I have something on my lips, Stefan?” You asked and lifted your free hand up to your lips. You seductively wiped the corner of your lip. You saw Stefan’s eyes widen and face flush.

“I-I, no,” he muttered and looked down shyly. 

You giggled and walked toward the kitchen, still hand-in-hand with Stefan. 

“Hello, Miss Pierce,” Giuseppe Salvatore smiled at you. 

You quickly let go of Stefan’s hand and straightened up. “Hi, Mr. Salvatore. How are you today?”

“Just fine, you?” Giuseppe asked. 

“Fine, thank you,” you smiled politely. 

You then heard screaming upstairs. It sounded awfully like Katherine’s. Your breathing quickened, a wave of worry washing over you. 

“Excuse me,” Giuseppe said and hurriedly brushed past you two. You furrowed your brows and followed him, taking Stefan with you. 

Stefan and you followed Giuseppe up into Damon’s bedroom. Giuseppe threw open the door and you gasped at the sight. 

Katherine was lying on the floor, gasping for air. Damon was on the bed, confused and a vampire bite bleeding out from his shoulder. 

“Father, what?” Damon asked. 

Guards pushed past you and Stefan in the doorway, picking up Katherine. 

“She’s a vampire, Damon, I’m sorry,” Giuseppe said. 

“No! Kathie!” You exclaimed as the guards carried Katherine down the stairs. You ran down the stairs and followed them outside where a carriage awaited. Tears flooded down your face as you saw your sister being thrown into the back of the carriage. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. Your sister is a monster, though, she needs to be killed,” Giuseppe said. 

You wiped your tears and growled. Your fangs came out and veins flowed under your eyes. 

Giuseppe exclaimed in fear. “Vampire! Vampire!”

More guards came at you fast, but you were faster. You snapped their necks, stalking towards Giuseppe. Giuseppe stumbled backward, tripping over a stick on the ground and falling. You growled again and dove down to Giuseppe. You put your hand around his neck, choking him.

“Y/n! Stop!” You heard Stefan behind you. “Please, Y/n! I love you, stop!” Stefan shouted again.

The veins under your eyes disappeared and your eyes became soft once again. While still having you hand on Giuseppe’s neck, you turned around to see Stefan. He was crying and on his knees, begging you to give up his father. 

“Yo-you what?” You asked. 

“Guards, get it!” Giuseppe exclaimed. 

Before you could react, a needle was being punctured into your neck. You screamed in pain, feeling the vervain surge through your veins. You collapsed in the guard’s arm.

“Y/n! No!” Stefan shouted and ran to the guards as they threw you in the back of the carriage with Katherine. 

“I’m sorry, son, but she’s a monster. She has to die. Go inside with Damon to stay safe,” Giuseppe said quickly and ran to the carriage. 

Stefan groaned helplessly. He decided to go back to Damon and get him fixed up so they could go and rescue you and Katherine. 

“Damon! Are you okay, brother?” Stefan asked as he saw Damon crying at the stairs. 

“They took Katherine,” Damon cried. 

Stefan sighed, “They took Y/n, too. Come on, we need to rescue them.”

Damon nodded his head and wiped his tears on his sleeve. Him and Stefan went out in the dark of the night, listening for the sounds of shouting men and gunshots. Damon and Stefan finally found their father and other men throwing vampires into carriages. They stood behind a bush, seeing if they could spot you and Katherine. 

Stefan looked at his brother, putting his arm on Damon’s. “Circle around that way. I’ll distract them.”

Damon looked at Stefan and nodded. He ran off while Stefan went over to Giuseppe. 

“Over here! There’s another one!” Stefan exclaimed. “Come with me!”

He then started running into the woods, his father and the other men following him. While Stefan ran, Damon snuck up behind a guard and hit him over the head, knocking him out. Damon grabbed the keys out from the guard’s pocket, while Stefan ran back. 

“We don’t have long,” Stefan said as Damon hurriedly unlocked the carriage. 

They threw the door open. Their hearts ached at the sight of you and Katherine.  You both were dozing off, rope tied around your hands and muzzles around your mouths. 

“Y/n,” Stefan gasped. You looked up, foggy from the vervain. You opened your eyes and saw Stefan and Damon, reaching their hands out for you and Katherine to grab. 

You reached your hand out for Stefan and he pulled you out with ease. He carried you and set you on the ground next to Katherine. Stefan took off the muzzle and untied the bonds that held your wrists. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” Stefan said. 

You nodded, finally gaining consciousness. Damon and Stefan hurried with untying your hands. In the distance were horses.

“Stefan, hurry,” Damon said while getting the last of the rope off around Katherine’s wrists.  

While Stefan threw the rope aside from your wrists, a gunshot punctured Damon in the heart. Your eyes widened and you sat up, your hand reaching for Stefan’s. 

“It’s going to be okay, Stefan,” you said and looked in him the eyes. 

Tears formed in his eyes and he shook his head. You nodded and put your hand on his cheek. You leaned in and kissed him passionately. The feel of his lips were something you hoped you would feel again. 

Stefan pulled away, giving you another quick kiss on the lips before running over to Damon. 

“No, no!” Stefan exclaimed. 

You got up to help, but when you went next to Damon, he was already dead. 

“No, Damon,” Stefan muttered. You put a hand on Stefan’s shoulder comfortingly. 

Just then, horses and men came back. Giuseppe shouted at his partners, saying that there was another vampire. Stefan looked up at them, standing up quickly. He grabbed a shotgun quickly and aimed it at Giuseppe, but Giuseppe was quicker. He shot Stefan right in the heart. His fall made you scream. 

“Stefan, no!” You cried and rushed over to him. Tears flooded down your face as you tried to resuscitate him. 

“Stefan, please. Please, Stefan. I love you. Don’t die,” you sobbed. “I can’t live without you, baby.”

Before you could give him another breath, hands went around your arms. 

“Get off of me!” You kicked and screamed, but it was no use. You saw Katherine being loaded up with you.

“Stefan!” You shouted as the guards locked the carriage door. 

You put your hands to your face, sobbing uncontrollably. You heard Katherine laugh beside you. You took your hands off from your face, furrowing your brows and looking at your sister. 

“What the hell is making you laugh? Your boyfriend just died right next to you,” you spat. 

“They aren't dead, Y/n,” Katherine giggled. 

You sat up and turned to her. “What?”

“They have vampire blood in their system. In a few hours, they’ll wake up. Hopefully they are smart enough to feed. I’m not sure Damon is smart enough, but I’m sure Stefan is,” Katherine explained with a smirk. 

Your jaw dropped. “Whose vampire blood?”

“Yours for Stefan, mine for Damon,” Katherine smiled proudly. 

“What the- Katerina Petrova!” You yelled.

“At least I didn't feed Stefan my blood! You’d be a lot angrier,” Katherine stated matter-of-factly. 

“Shut up,” you groaned and ran your hand over your face. “You are so crazy. How is Stefan supposed to get through this alone? He doesn’t know one thing about being a vampire. I need to be there to help him. How did you even give him my blood?”

Katherine waved her hand in the air, “Stefan is smart, like I said. He doesn’t need you babysitting him. Also, I knocked you out with vervain few times a took your blood.”

“You are freaking psychotic. And It’s not babysitting, it’s helping! I helped you when we were first turned,” you protested. 

Katherine rolled her eyes, “Yeah, whatever. Stefan has Damon, they’ll be fine.”

You groaned again and shook your head. “Screw you, Katherine.”

“I love you, too, baby sis. Now, you’ll be thanking me once I get us out of here.”

“How?” You asked. “You’ll see,” Katherine smiled. 

You rolled your eyes and the carriage stopped. The door opened and guards grabbed everyone. They put your hands behind your back they walked you to the church. You looked around and saw men lined up with torches. 

“Kathie, they’re gonna burn us!” You exclaimed.

“I have a plan, don’t worry,” Katherine said as you two were thrown onto the floor. 

You scoffed in disgust at the men as they went away to get more vampires. Katherine looked around and waved over a man who held a torch. He came over to her nervously.

“Hello, kind sir. I have a proposition for you to set us free,” Katherine said. 

“What are you doing!” You whisper-shouted. Katherine ignored you and proceeded to talk to the man. 

“I.. I can’t set you free, Miss, I’m sorry, “ the guard said. 

Katherine sighed, “What if I could make you immortal.”

You watched as the guard’s eyes lit up. You bit back a bitter smile, you didn’t know how Katherine did it. 

“I... you can’t. They say that you are monsters.”

“Yes, we are, but we live forever. What’s your name?” Katherine asked. 

“Stuart, Miss,” the guard said. 

Katherine smiled sweetly, “C’mon, Stuart. Be the good boy your mother raised you and save two, helpless young girls.”

Stuart sighed helplessly. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then went over to Katherine. 

“Great. Your service is greatly appreciated,” Katherine smiled and lifted her wrist up. She bit into it, holding it up to Stuart. 

You watched as he drank the blood. His eyes lit up and he threw his head back in ecstasy. 

“Now, you have to kill yourself in the next 24 hours otherwise you won’t turn. Make sure to feed right after you wake up, too,” Katherine instructed. 

Stuart nodded, “Thank you, Miss...?”

“Pierce. Miss Pierce.” Stuart smiled, “Miss Pierce. I will go and distract everyone, you two go ahead and get out of here.”

“Thank you,” Katherine smirked and got up. You got up with her and walked to the back of the building. You ran out the back door and into the woods. You two used your vamp speed until you were far enough away from anyone. 

“Where do you want to go?” Katherine asked.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you said.

“What? We always stick together, Y/n. C’mon, you can’t still be mad at me for turning Stefan,” Katherine scoffed. 

You shook your head with a bitter smile. “You don’t get it do you? You always hurt people to save us, yourself. This time, I’m not standing for it.”

“Really, Y/n? Without me “hurting” all those people, you wouldn’t be alive today. You would be in the woods with a stake through your heart, you know that, right? Don’t break us up and run off because of some boy. There will be plenty of boys. Plus, if Stefan does turn and lives, you two might meet later in life!” Katherine smiled. 

“I know you didn’t truly love Damon, Kathie, but I love Stefan. He is the love of my life, I believe that. I have to find him. I’m sorry Kathie, I love you, but I have to find him,” you explained. 

Katherine’s eyes filled with tears. “Fine, go. I’ll see you whenever, if you don’t get killed.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. 

“Meet me in Chicago in 50 years, this exact month and day, at our spot okay? We can spend the whole day together, okay? I love you, Katerina. I’ll see you soon,” you said and intertwined your fingers with her’s. You gave her one last look before going off to try and find Stefan. 

Mystic Falls, 2010

You looked at yourself in the mirror of you apartment. Katherine came up behind you, running her fingers through her straightened hair. 

“Why did you change the way you dress again?” You asked. 

“Because there’s a girl here, Elena Gilbert, who looks exactly like me and I love messing with her and her friends. Plus, I have to get Damon back and he is all over her trashy little ass,” Katherine rolled her eyes in disgust. 

You smiled in amusement, “You’ve changed since the last 15 years I’ve seen you, huh. No more being polite.”

“Well, it’s not me whose changed. It’s the world. I’m sure you’ve picked up on that,” Katherine said. 

You nodded in agreement. You looked over your outfit. You had chosen to wear light-wash jeans and a long-sleeved, red v-neck shirt that you tucked into your jeans. You had your hair done in your favourite hairstyle and a little makeup to look presentable. 

You were in Mystic Falls, Virginia once again. You came here the night before to stay with Katherine. You came to Mystic Falls to see Stefan and Damon Salvatore, which were rumoured to be here, and confirmed to be here by Katherine. Katherine had told you Stefan had changed. Hanging out and fliritng with pretty vampire girls and drinking at this restaurant called The Grill. It made you jealous to hear that he might’ve moved on, but you knew that he couldn’t. After all, you hadn’t. 

“Ready to go and make everyone’s head turn?” Katherine smirked. 

“Yep,” you smiled and went out of the bathroom. You put black, heeled boots on and grabbed your purse. Katherine and you went out of the apartment and to her car. 

“You think he’ll recognize me?” You asked. 

“I do. Why wouldn't he? You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever been with,” Katherine said. 

“How do you know that’s true? It’s not like you’ve been spying on him,” you said. 

“True, but you’re a Petrova. We are sexy, charming, and witty,” Katherine smiled.  You laughed at her, nodding in agreement. You two arrived at The Grill. 

“Are you sure he’s here?” You asked nervously. 

“100%,” Katherine said. She took a look at you and noticed the worried look on your face. 

“Don’t be nervous. He will recognize you and he will fall in love with you all over again. I don’t think you realize how hard he fell for you in 1864. You’ll be back together again in no time,” Katherine said and put her hand on your shoulder reassuringly. 

You smiled gratefully at her, “Thank you. Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

Katherine nodded with a smile and opened the door to the restaurant. The smell of burgers and whiskey hit your nose, making your stomach grumble. You looked around to see if you could spot Stefan or Damon. It wasn’t until you laid your eyes on the pool table when you found both of them. 

Stefan had a pool cue in his hand, smiling and laughing. Your heart swelled at the sight of him. Katherine was right, he had changed. He looked to be more social, more outgoing. His body structure changed, too. Now he was more muscular. His hair also changed a lot, too. Instead of being in a middle part, it was brushed upwards. Nonetheless, though, you found yourself falling in love with him all over again. 

Stefan and his friends heard the sound of the door open. Stefan didn’t pay much attention, focusing on his shot at the pool table. A small blonde was the first one to speak. 

“What the hell is Katherine doing here?” She scoffed. “And who is that with her?”

Stefan furrowed his brows at the sound of Katherine’s name. When he looked up, his breath got taken away. He stumbled back, shocked by the sight. 

“That’s Y/n Pierce, Katherine’s sister,” Damon said, shocked with Stefan. 

Stefan took a look at you. You were gorgeous, like always. He looked over your attire. You were for sure a sight for sore eyes. With your hair shining, lips plump and looking soft, your outfit accentuating your body. His brain practically exploded at the sight of you.

“Stefan? Stefan? You okay?” A brunette who looked like Katherine asked and put a hand on his shoulder. 

Stefan averted his gaze back to her and nodded. “Yeah, I just... I know her.”

Elena furrowed her brows, “How?”

“She was my first love. Back in 1864,” Stefan looked at you again and took a deep breath in. 

Everyone around him was shocked with the information he just provided. The brunette looked at you quizzically, trying to figure you out. The blonde and Damon looked at you, too, shocked at how Katherine had a sister and that you were still alive.

You noticed everyone staring at you and blushed. You looked at Stefan’s friends and was taken aback by the brunette. 

“Wow, she really is your doppelgänger,” you muttered to Katherine. 

“Mhm, and a bad one at that,” Katherine said. She grabbed your hand and gestured over to them, “C’mon, let’s go say hi.”

You nodded and made your way over to them. Your palms became sweaty and your legs wobbled as you got closer to Stefan. His scent filled your senses and made butterflies go down from your stomach to your core. He looked so beautiful as you got closer. 

“Hi, Katherine,” the petite blonde standing next to Stefan scoffed. 

Katherine rolled her eyes, “Don’t be rude, I have company. This is my sister, Y/n Piece. Y/n, this is Caroline, she's a vampire, and Elena Gilbert, the golden girl, and well you know Stefan and Damon.”

You smiled at them kindly, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you all.”

Damon gave you a warm smile and hugged you. “I haven’t seen you since 1864! Where have you been?”

“Around,” you smiled at him. 

“You’re friends with a Pierce?” Caroline asked. 

“Y/n is different than Katherine. She actually has a heart,” Damon gave Katherine a sarcastic look. 

“Oh, well, then it’s nice to meet you, too,” Caroline smiled and held her hand out. 

You shook her hand, your eyes going back to Stefan.

“How can you stand to be her sister?” Elena blurted. You raised your brows at her, amused. 

“She's my sister, my best friend. She's the reason I’m still living. She’s not a bad person once you get to know her,” you shrugged. 

“I bet to differ,” Damon smirked. 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. You went over to Stefan, hesitantly putting your hand on his. 

“Hey, Stefan,” you smiled. 

His dead heart burst at your smile. It had been a long time since he’d seen it, and boy was he glad he finally saw it again. 

“Hey. Can you guys give us some privacy?” Stefan asked his friends. They nodded, going away. Elena looked at him longingly and Katherine smiled at you excitedly, giving you a thumbs up. 

“So, where have you been?” Stefan asked. 

“Everywhere. I’ve been trying to find you, but you’re always gone once I reach the place you were in. I even tried to find you after you got shot, but you weren’t there. I knew I couldn’t go back to your house, so I went west,” you explained. “When Katherine told me you were here, though, and probably staying for a long time, I knew I had to come here and see you.”

Stefan smiled and nodded. “I’m glad you’re alive and okay. You look beautiful.”

You giggled and smiled shyly. “Thank you. You look handsome, like I remember.”

“Thank you. Do you want to grab a drink?” Stefan asked and nodded to the bar. 

You nodded and followed him and took a seat. “So, I have to ask, are you with anyone?” 

Stefan shook his head with a smile. “I was with Elena, but we broke up a few months ago. She's in love with Damon.”

Your heart sunk slightly, but you kept your hopes high. “Any feelings left for her?”

“No. I love her, I do, but not in the way I did. Not a lot of relationships work out for me,” Stefan admitted. 

“Why?” You asked. “Because of you,” Stefan smiled and looked at you in the eyes.

You raised your brows. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was standing in the way of your love life,” you joked. 

Stefan smiled with you, “No, no, it’s okay. It’s just that, you’re my one true love, Y/n. No one can compare to how you made me feel. I love you, Y/n. I always have and always will. You were the one thing that kept me going after all this time. The thought of seeing you again always picked me back up.”

Tears sprung into your eyes at his words. You interlocked your fingers with his. “It’s the same way for me, too. There hasn't been a day where I haven’t thought about you. Now that I’m with you, I feel like my life is complete now. I know it’s cheesy, but it’s true.”

Stefan smiled widely, “Well, then. Y/n Pierce, would you mind accompanying me on a date tomorrow night. We can go to The Grill and get dinner and then go back to my place.”

“I would love to, Stefan,” you smiled.

Stefan leaned in, “Great. Since we are in the 21st century, I don’t think I have to be so shy.” With those words his lips met yours. 

You closed your eyes instantly, fireworks appeared in the back of your eyelids. Stefan’s lips were soft and tasted of bourbon. They fit just right with yours. You missed this; him. After all this time of not thinking you were going to be able to kiss him again, hold his hand, see him, you were so joyful that you were able to do this now. 

Your hand moved to the back of his head and your fingers played with his hair. Stefan’s hands went on the small of your back and thigh, moving your seat closer. His touch gave you a wave of butterflies in your stomach and it shot down south. His touch was one of the things you missed the most. Being in his arms, smelling him, tasting him.

You pulled back, hearing a whistle from Damon and Katherine. You smiled and looked into Stefan's eyes. 

“Why don’t we move the date part to now and skip dinner,” you suggested. 

“Or you could be my dinner,” Stefan smirked.  His words caused butterflies to swarm in your stomach, but you played along. 

“Deal. Escort me to your house?” You asked and stood up, connecting your hand with his. 

“I’d love to,” he winked. 

————

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[uglypastels]

Appropriate Action // Tom Holland

(a/n) this goes out to @captainpeggy40​ for sending me that gif set of Tom smoking in TDATT. I seriously have a problem, but hey, we wouldn’t have this wihout it so... also damn, i haven’t written a oneshot in ages and its so much easier oof. this was fun. 

word count: 4500 (italicized means flashback) 

warning: “bad boy”!Tom, smoking, some guys being pigs, tattoos, mention of drinking, (mention of) violence, (mention of) soft drug use. little bit of angst, but it is mostly fluff

hope you all enjoy xxx

“If we see you smoking we will assume you are on fire and take appropriate action.” - Douglas Adams

The car’s engine roared as Tom waited in front of the building. The new paint job was just the perfect touch that his vintage chevy needed. Tom leaned his arm out the window, the other hanging over the sizeable front seat. He stared out ahead of him, looking at the empty road. In a second, groups of students would fill his vision, all gawking at the gorgeous black car. He preferred the attention to be on the vehicle he spent so much time in than himself. 

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with smoke. That bitter, euphoric taste of nicotine was finally taking over. Even though he had only woken up a short while ago, he felt like he had been up for hours. His head was pounding, and he just wished to be back in his small apartment, cut off from the world, just him and something cold to drink. 

Tom took the cigarette from his lips, flicking the burned and shrivelled butt out the window, and quickly put it back in his mouth to take another long drag. The cigarette was almost burned up, and he hoped he could finish it before-

Right then, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. From a distance, it only looked like a colourful blur nearing him, but he knew immediately what- or better said, who it was. He turned his head, cigarette still dangling from between his lips, to look at you walking down the path to the car. Like always, your head was down, and your pace was quick. He swiftly threw the cigarette out the window. Right then you looked up and gave him a small, tight-lipped smile, which he returned to you. All this time, music was playing, so he reached for the volume to lower it a little. 

“Hey,” you got in, eyes locked on the dashboard. Tom knew what this meant. 

“What did they do?” He looked out through the window behind you, already with two distinct faces in mind to keep an eye out for. 

“Nothing, Tom. Let’s just go.” You almost begged him, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Darling, you know I won’t allow those two assholes to be near you, just tell me what they did and I’ll handle it.” He gripped the steering wheel tightly. All you did was pick at the loose name tag on one of your books on your lap. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Tommy.” Usually, he hated it when people called him that, but for some reason, when the word came out of your mouth. It made him feel fantastic, better than any cigarette or drink could. 

You didn’t know why you were so determined not to get Tom involved in your campus problems. Probably because you knew that he could beat anyone (really, anyone) to a pulp if he wanted to, which meant he would get in trouble. And it just didn’t feel like you were worth that. You didn’t feel like you were worth it for him to get into trouble. Besides, nothing happened. All those frat guys did was look at you and make comments… nasty, disgusting comments, but most the time you didn’t even hear them. You learned to zone it out. There was nothing for Tom to worry about.

You hoped Tom would have started driving, but when you looked up, he was still staring out the window on your side, jaw clenched. You took your hand and placed it on top of his. 

“Just drive, please.” 

His eyes fell to you for a second, looking straight into your pleading eyes. He could never say no to that face of yours. There was just so much innocence in you. He loved it about you that no matter how much you tried to get out of your shell, there was always this kind of purity and shyness about you. 

With a disagreeing sigh, he changed gears and stepped on the gas, leaving the school building behind in the dust. Only the one small cigarette butt on the floor as the only sign that you Tom had ever been there. 

You leaned in against his shoulder, but after one inhale of air, you pulled away. 

“You smell like a chimney,” you said teasingly. Tom rolled his eyes, but you could see the twitch in the corner of his mouth. All you did, however, was pout. “You said you’d stop.” 

“I’m sorry.” He kept on smiling, finding it so cute how hard you tried to get him to stop smoking. But you both knew it was hard to teach an old dog new tricks. “But you have to realise, dove, that this is a losing battle you’re fighting. It’s just simply too good.” To put extra salt on the wound, he reached out for a cigarette in the open pack in the cupholder. He put the little stick between his lips and looked at you with a face that you could only describe as Zoolander-like. 

“Besides, look how cool it makes me.” He said before putting the cigarette back in the pack. How much you hated smoking, you had to admit; he looked darn good doing it. The window on his side of the car was still open, softly blowing the wind into his hair. He had let it grow since you met but could always remember how he looked like the first time you saw him. 

That was already over a year ago. You stood outside of a tattoo shop for what felt like an eternity. It was a small studio, and it was organising a walk-in sessions afternoon that day. You thought this would be the perfect time to do it. 

Finally, you walked inside. Some punk music was playing you didn’t recognise. The walls were plastered with gorgeous artwork, and the shelves were stacked with obscure little items that might have just as well belonged in a witch coven. It looked fantastic. 

Still, the place was relatively empty. Only one chair was occupied, but that one machine was enough to fill the room with the buzzing sound. A girl with bright blue hair and several piercings was sitting at the counter, looking bored. Her spirits however perked up when she saw you walk in. 

“Hiya, how can I help you?” she smiled. 

“I’m here for a walk-in if that’s alright.” It was so evident that you had no idea what you were doing. Still, the girl didn’t say anything about it—the idea of having someone get their first tattoo excited her. 

“Alrighty then, do you have any ideas of what you want to get?” 

“Uhmm, no. Not really.” your cheeks were heating up, and you were starting to think that you had not thought this through at all. 

“That’s alright,” she reassured you. “We got a few folders with ideas over there. Look through them for an idea, and then we can come up with something.” She winked and pointed over to the corner of the room, where antique armchairs were standing. Between them, indeed, a large folder filled with small tattoo designs. You sat down and started going through the pages. It all looked pretty, and it was quite overwhelming actually to pick something. 

Eventually, you halted at something that caught your eye. It was a rose with a few petals falling off. 

“I hooked up with a girl once that had kind of tattoo,” a voice next to you said, making you jump up. You looked up and saw a guy about your age sitting in a chair, ready to get a tattoo himself. You hadn’t even realised how close the waiting corner was to the actual tattooing station. And now you were wondering how long the man had been sitting there, watching you. 

“Excuse me?” you asked, not understanding the need of the comment he had made. 

“The rose tattoo, don’t get it.” He simply said. You looked at him a bit better. He was wearing a white t-shirt, which revealed a few gorgeous tattoos slipping out of the sleeves. He had short cut hair, but you noticed that on the right side, it was completely shaved off, giving you a good idea of where he was getting his next tattoo. 

“Why not? It looks pretty.” You weren’t thinking about getting it, but it did look nice, which was the big reason you were looking at it. Before this, all the designs were fairly minimalistic. This was the first one with some good detail in it. 

“Nothing against the artist, but the design… it’s kind of basic. Nothing against it if you’re into that kind of things, but I wouldn’t recommend it as a first tattoo. Not to mention, it’s a big piece. I would go for something smaller, easier.”

You had not expected a whole essay to come from his mouth, so you stared at him with a slightly open mouth. His chuckle unfroze you again. 

“Well, lucky for you I guess, I wasn’t thinking of getting it. But thanks for your input.” 

“No problem.” He was about to turn away, but the helpless and lost little child in you cried out for help. 

“So what would you recommend?” 

He came back around and grabbed the folder from your hand. He flipped through the pages, a bit mindlessly. Eventually, he got to the last page without saying anything and closed it. 

“I don’t think you should get one.” He said as he put the catalogue on the small coffee table. You stared at him. You had no response to it. 

“Not right now, at least.” 

“Why do you think that?” You finally managed to get out. 

“Well… why do you want to get a tattoo?” You were about to answer with a half-lie, but he was quicker, “To anger your parents?” 

All you did was scoff at his suggestion, but it was enough to prove his theory right. “Hey, I don’t judge. And if there is something deeper going on in that pretty head of yours, go ahead, but don’t go through hours of pain because of them. Do it because YOU want it.” 

You didn’t reply, just thought for a second. Then, without saying a word to the handsome stranger, got up and walked over to the counter where the girl was patiently waiting (and most likely listening in to every word of that strange conversation). 

“I got an idea,” You quickly went into your phone’s gallery and scrolled through the pictures until you found what you were looking for. “Could you maybe make this like a, what’s it called, like minimal line art. You know, just one continuous line.

The girl looked at the picture, and a giant smile beamed across her face. “Absolutely! If you can send it to my email, I’ll go and trace it for ya real quick.” She scribbled down her email address, and with a few clicks, you shared the image with her. She told you that it would probably take a few minutes so you could sit back down. Right, next to your anonymous helper. 

His artist had come back from wherever he had been and was preparing the ink and machine. The helpful man, however, sat in the chair, frozen like you had left him. Clearly, he didn’t expect you do go and get a design done.

You sat down opposite of him, quite proud of yourself. 

“Well… I didn’t exactly expect that, but I hope you’re happy with your tattoo.” 

“Thanks, I am.” You nodded, “I hope you are with yours. And that it won’t hurt too much.” You winced at the idea of getting your head tattoed. You head heard that places closer to the bone hurt more. 

“You can watch if you want.” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You declined his offer.

“Aight, Tom, take a seat, mate.” The tattoo artist told the man. Tom gave you one last smile before laying down and facing away from you, giving the tattooist proper access to his momentary canvas. You watched him place the stencil carefully. You couldn’t see what it was exactly, but it looked big. Definitely, one of those designs you would not be ready for at this moment. And the girl called you to get your own stencil on. 

And the rest, as people say, was history. You got your tattoo done much quicker than Tom did. Of course, he realised this and immediately grabbed the chance to call you over to him so he could speak to you again before you left his life forever. You sat next to him, watching him get his tattoo, and talked. It was strange. It was as if you had known each other for much longer than just that afternoon. And the afternoon ended with him asking you for your phone number, which you gladly gave. 

Things stayed just as smooth and comfortable between the two of you for all those months. His hair had grown and was now long enough for you to brush your fingers trough. He might have not said it out loud, but you knew that was a big reason for him to let his hair grow out. It did mean that the tattoo that started it all was completely covered. It was like a little secret between both of you.

You felt safe with him, but almost more importantly, you felt like yourself. He never made you do anything. He was the only person in your life that did ask anything from you, never made you do anything. But at the same time, he introduced you to this entire new side of you that you didn’t even know existed. You began to worry less about what other people thought of you, you were less scared of trying new things, even if it meant getting into a little bit of trouble now and then. It felt great. 

Tom drove you to his apartment like he did every Friday. With no other plans for the day or the upcoming weekend, you were free to do whatever you wanted. Even if it meant staying in bed for the entirety of three days, eating ice cream and watching dumb movies. 

Tom’s flat was the last place your parents would have wanted you to be. It was… grungy. It was large enough for him and your occasional sleepovers. The theme he was going for with his decor was most likely a “strange second-hand store” with his mismatching, half-broken furniture. He had an extensive collection of vinyl records, the most significant part of it containing artists you had never heard of before. He kept his little coffee table quite empty, except for the tall glass bong standing in the middle (that may or may not have been a birthday present from you). And he had bookshelves filled with everything in the range of classic horror novels, to comic books. It was your favourite place in the world. 

Yet, when you were only a few blocks away from the building, you made him stop the car. 

“What’s up?” He asked after parking the car on the side of the road. 

“Let’s go to the park,” you suggested. It had been lovely weather the entire day, and you longed for stretching your legs and finally enjoy the sun. Tom wasn’t much of a park person, but he did enjoy going on walks with you. He was about to start up the car again but then stopped. Before you could ask if something was wrong, he leaned to the side to you and kissed you deeply. With his hand on your cheek, it heated up your entire body, and you grabbed his shirt, needing something to hold on to. You could taste that cigarette he had smoked before you got into the car. 

“Hmmm, just a second,”  you said after pulling out. You opened your bag and searched for a second until you found the box of breath mints. Tom, already well aware of the procedure, rolled his eyes and held out his hand flat open. You tipped over the container, spilling three large mints into his hand. 

“C’mon, these taste like shit,” he groaned. You just looked at him until he put them in his mouth. 

“You wouldn’t have to eat ‘em if you didn’t smell like cigarettes.” You shrugged, putting the mints back in your bag. Tom still didn’t seem convinced about your method, but he didn’t say anything more. He stepped on the gas again, and you were finally off to the park.

You were glad he had the window open because it was apparent he had smoked in the car recently. Fortunately, with every minute passing by driving, the smell got less prominent. Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination and could step out. You hopped out of the car and made your way to the other side to meet Tom. He brushed his fingers through his hair as he stepped out. You could tell how cool he thought doing so, and you could agree. He looked mesmerising. In his old denim jacket, covered in DIY patches, his grey shirt and old, slightly warn through jeans, he almost looked like he could replace Patrick Swayze in the Outsiders. 

Somehow, it all worked for him just fine. 

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for another kiss. You were just glad the mints were doing their job, but no matter that, just the feeling of his soft lips against yours made you melt any time. 

But you also wanted to enjoy the weather in the lovely surroundings. Hence, you unclasped yourself from hid grasp and manoeuvred around him to hold his hand. That didn’t seem like enough to Tom, so, still holding your hand, he pulled you in closer to drape his arm over your shoulders. 

Because that was the thing about Tom. He was intimidating to most. Dark, mysterious, brooding. A real loner. There were barely any people who he opened up to. One of the few, if not the only one, is you. And that was why you knew how soft he really was. He loved to have you near him, preferably holding you or at least your hand. He loved those moments on the days you were with him, where you ate breakfast in bed and told each other about the dream you had the night before. He loved having you around, and he loved being yours. 

Ever since he remembered, he always denied the question of what his biggest fear was. First, because he simply didn’t know, but know it was just too hard to admit that he was afraid of something terrible happening to you. So when he picked you up from class and saw the speed at which you walked at to the car, never looking up to chat with friends. He saw the need at which you wanted to get out of there, meaning that there was something in that building you needed to get away from. It was definitely a someone. 

He wished you would just tell him what the problem was. He would do anything for you. Which was most likely the reason you didn’t tell him. Because you knew he would do anything. Even if it meant he’d be in danger. It wouldn’t matter to him. 

But while his fear was losing you, yours was losing him. 

That was nothing to think about at that moment, though. You were in a lovely park, holding each other close. There were a lot of families around with the same idea as you, to enjoy the pleasant weather outside in the shade of the large trees. 

You walked around the park, his arm hung over your shoulders. At one point you had wandered off to small open field between the trees. It was a perfect spot to sit down. The grass had clearly just been cut because the fresh smell was overwhelming. Tom lay down with his hands behind his head, and you used his stomach as a pillow. You looked up at the blue sky, pointing out the different shaped clouds. 

“Ooh, that one looks like a dragon!” you pointed at one on the left. When you glanced at Tom you realised he hadn’t even been looking, his eyes entirely focused on you. 

“You’re not looking!” you playfully slapped his side to which he responded with a soft groan. This was followed with the both of you laughing for a while. Then Tom reached out into his pocket and to your horror, you saw that he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He put it between his lips and was about to flick open the lighter you grabbed it out of his hand. He looked at you in confusion.

Mumbling, since he still had the little stick of cancer in his mouth, he said: “Ekfcufe me?”

“No way are you smoking here.”  “There’s no one here.” He sighed after pulling the cigarette out of his mouth.

“I’m here. Nature is here.” You argued. 

“Nature is here?” Tom raised an eyebrow, holding in his laughter. You nodded frantically. That didn’t seem to work because he put it back in his mouth, letting it dangle from his lip. So, you reached out and grabbed that too, just like the lighter. And you put it in your own mouth. You had smoked before, just to try, and it was quite disgusting. It was another reason why you never understood Tom’s love for it. 

“What are you doing?’ Tom said, some panic covering his voice. As much as he enjoyed it, he knew how bad it was for him. Out of all the things he introduced you too, he always wished you never took up smoking. 

“Well, if you need to smoke so bad, I don’t want to be left out.” You flicked on the lighter and were slowly putting it closer to the cigarette. Your eyes, however, were locked on Tom’s. Was he going to call your bluff? The little flame was about to burn the-

“Alright! I won’t smoke here.” He stopped you. Once again, proud of your intervention, you gave him the cigarette and put the lighter in your own pocket.

“Now go throw that out.” You told him. “And I mean all of it.” You had seen a trashcan on the path leading to the open space, so you pointed him that way. Slowly, Tom got up and slouched his way toward to bin. Satisfied, you closed your eyes and lie down on the grass. 

But that only lasted for a few seconds. You could hear footsteps and loud noises coming from the other side of the field. The voices made your blood freeze and get up quickly. It sounded like they were coming your way, and you did not want them to find you lying on the ground. The thought of that happening alone- no. You didn’t want to think about it. 

You got up and were dusting yourself off from the grass, already walking in the direction Tom had went. But it was too late, they saw you. 

“Well, if it isn’t our little y/n!” one of them shouted out. Jack. You didn’t turn around, just kept on walking. But they were much faster and quickly caught up to you, cutting off the path. 

“Uhm, hey guys,” it was a wonder any sound came out of your mouth and that they heard it. 

“Well, what are you doing here all by yourself?” asked Jack with a tone that sounded as sweet as marmite to you. 

“I’m not actually,” you tried to get through, to walk away from there, “I’m with my boyfriend-” 

“Oh, with your boyfriend, are ya?” Jason added with a disgusting smirk. “Out in the field, huh. Wondering what you two had been up to.” They both sniggered like the idiots they are. 

“Do you think we can join ya?” 

“No.”  You said, determination coming up slowly in your voice. Very slowly, but it was progressing. You could see over their shoulders that Tom was making his way back, and he noticed your new company. This gave you the real confidence you needed. 

“No? Awh c’mon, don’t be like that.” Jack was about to grab your hand, but you pulled it away from his reach. 

“I said no. I don’t know how many fucking times you dickwads need to hear it.” And then you did something you still don’t know how it exactly happened. With a rush of adrenaline, in a quick move, you punched Jason in the face. So fast that his buddy Jack couldn’t even comprehend what happened before you kicked him in the groin. 

Without wasting another second you made a run for it, meeting Tom only a few feet away. He had clearly seen what happened and stood frozen on the path to where you were. 

“Were you planning on joining or?” You said as you ran by, not wanting to stop there. Tom quickly got the hint and followed you. You had to get to his car. And fast. 

“Holy shit, y/n, what was that?” Tom asked in astonishment when he caught up to you, which didn’t take that long. You, however, didn’t answer. Not wanting to waste your adrenaline rush on answering a question that could just as quickly be answered somewhere safer. 

You ran through the whole park, all the way to the car: passing families and pigeon-feeding elderly. Finally, you could see the car. Unluckily, it couldn’t be unlocked from a distance. Tom sprinted up and put the key in the lock. You had reached the other door right on time and slipped inside. 

You were both heaving air, you clutching your chest, Tom adjusting the rear-view mirror to see if the two frat boys had followed you. Realising you were once again alone, you simultaneously erupted into laughter. 

“Wow-” you breathed out, “that was-”

“Brilliant.” Tom managed to chuckle, “You were brilliant.” He reached out to pull you against his side and kiss your forehead. “Fucking brilliant.” He repeated with a whisper.

“I don’t know what came over me.” You said in disbelief, looking at your red knuckles. Tom took your hand and kissed most severely red part of your skin. 

“It was those guys from school, right?” He asked. All you could do was nod. You hadn’t told him much about what they had been doing, but you knew he was clever enough to figure this out somewhat by himself. He didn’t ask any other questions. 

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” he said, “Kicking that asshole like that, I’m almost scared of you.” 

“Oh, almost, huh?” you questioned. 

“Well yeah, you’ll always be my little dove.” Still holding your bruised hand, he leaned in to kiss you. 

At that moment, both of you knew you had each other’s back. You loved each other. Everything was fine, there was nothing to fear, nothing to worry about.

The End

> thank you for reading!! 

> pleae leave a comment or ask, i’d love to hear what you thought about it 

>masterlist and link for taglist in bio 

tagging: 

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[pappydaddy]

Deal? (j.m.)

A/N: I recently added Outer Banks to the list of shows I write for because I am actually in love with the show. So, if you want to request for Outer Banks, send me a request but please look at the rules before doing so! 

Anyway, I am also writing a OB imagine because I want to see if people are actually seeing my posts or not. In the past, my little Outer Banks posts about JJ have gotten lots of interaction. Therefore, I am writing a JJ fic. 

Paring: JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Show: Outer Banks

Warnings: Jealously, protectiveness, some creepy dude, some punches but nothing horrible. Some blood. 

This takes place in an alternate universe where John B Sarah don’t capsize or even get on the boat in general. Just for the sake of this imagine.

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- not my gif -

  Boneyard parties were fun, there was no doubt about that fact, but sometimes an extravagant Kook party thrown by some rich snob wanting to rebel against their perfect little shoe box life was just as fun. The Pogues especially liked them since their presence at the party always ticked the Kooks off, but they couldn’t do anything about it unless they wanted the cops to bust their party full of minors drinking and doing drugs. Since the Pogues befriending Sarah Cameron, they had an excuse to make more appearances at Kook parties. Of course, JJ couldn’t pass up an opportunity to rile up some Kooks. Especially not when he’s dating the most attractive girl on the island: Y/n L/n. Rich enough to live comfortably, but not rich enough to be in Figure Eight. 

  “Come on, Jay! It’s a pool party,” Y/n whined to her boyfriend, her hands gripping his large bicep as she shook his arm lightly. “Put the swim trunks I gave you on!” She pleaded with him. Her blonde and stubborn boyfriend simply sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at his phone as she shook his arm more violently. Many people were surprised when JJ had entered the serious, long-term relationship with the youngest (and only daughter) of the L/n family for many reasons. The main one being that he settled down in the first place. JJ Maybank didn’t seem like the type for commitment, but with their second year anniversary fast approaching - they were left with their heads spinning. The other reason was the fact that Y/n had two older and very protective brothers. Everybody was almost positive that JJ wouldn’t even get past her brothers, either they would have crushed him to a pulp or he would have thought it to be too much work for a girl. 

  “But I don’t want to get in an overcrowded pool with a bunch of Kooks.” JJ grunted, trying to type a text to John B to see if the group was almost to Y/n’s house to pick them up. Though JJ was the designated driver for the party (he drew the short straw), he still needed the van in order to cart all The Pogues home at the end of the night. Y/n groaned, plunking herself down on the bed beside him, her hands still gripping his arm. 

  “You don’t have to get in the pool! I don’t want to get in the pool either, but I am still wearing a bathing suit!” JJ looked up from his phone and gave his pouting girlfriend a look. That was the thing about their relationship, it even surprised JJ. It downright scared him when he started to have feelings for Y/n. At first, he didn’t know what had happen to make him want a relationship, but then he realized that there was just something about her. Something that made him want to spend every waking second with her, want to protect her. 

  “Why does it matter if I wear the swim trunks you bought me or not?” He asked, locking his phone and setting it on the bed beside him. She shrugged, one hand sliding down to pick play with his fingers, her eyes locked on them. They had been friends for a good year before they started dating, their feelings having come to light when the great treasure hunt ensued. That meant they could read each other decently well. Having gone through that together while their relationship was blooming into a romantic one made them more perceptive to each other. As he sat there, watching her play with his fingers, he could tell that she was bashful about the reason. 

  “Because I think you’d look really hot in them.” She mumbled, her cheeks heating up. She tucked her chin closer to her chest, wanting to make sure JJ didn’t see her red cheeks, but even without seeing her face, he knew she had the adorable redness flooding her cheeks and nose. He didn’t even try to fight the smile as he watched her try to avoid his gaze while playing it cool. 

  “Alright, if that’s what you really want, I’ll wear the trunks.” He agreed. He knew that he would have ended up putting them on before they left, not matter how much he ‘fought’ against it. She snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes wide and happy. 

  “Yay,” She celebrated with a little bounce. “Now, can I bother you for one teeny tiny favour?” She asked sweetly, taking her hand from his to pinch her pointer finger and thumb together so that they were just barely touching. JJ hummed, reaching his hand up to grab her hand back, entangling their fingers together. 

  “Any thing for you, Pretty Girl.” He nodded, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin gently. The action felt nice on her hand but also sent tingles shooting up her arm, giving her a fuzzy feeling. 

  “I need advice on my bathing suit, I put it on earlier, but now I don’t know about it,” She paused, standing up, trying to free her hand reluctantly. JJ’s hand held firm, not wanting to let her hand go until it was completely necessary. Giving up, she settled with standing between his legs as he stayed sitting. “Is it too much?” She asked nervously, popping the buttons on her high-waisted jean shorts before letting them slide down her legs. Next came the shirt, leaving her in her rather racy bathing suit. 

  “Too much of what?” JJ asked, confused since there wasn’t too much of anything. It was a bathing suit. A normal bathing suit like all of her others. 

  “Too skimpy,” She clarified, turning her head to glance at the full body mirror by the foot of her bed. “This is by far the most scandalous bathing suit I own, but Kie and Sarah convinced me to buy it last week and I don’t want to not wear it, ya know?” She rambled, inspecting it. The stringy bikini was gorgeous and totally for relaxing poolside, not for swimming. The colour of it complemented her skin, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was showing too much. 

  “Why would you even think that? You look gorgeous in it,” JJ’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t get where you think it’s too ‘skimpy’? I mean, it covers everything,” He questioned, his eyes scanning over his girlfriend. She looked absolutely stunning. He grabbed her other hand as it picked at the strings tying her top up. She looked down at him, her eyes meeting his captivating blue eyes. “You look amazing in it. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

  “No, I actually really like it. I feel amazing in it,” She answered quickly. “But I don’t want guys staring at me and coming up to me all night. I just want to go and have fun with you and the others, not fend guys off with a stick.” She grunted, bending her knees to sit on one of JJ’s legs, her knees poking into the other one. He let go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist to make sure she didn’t fall off. 

  “I get that, but you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll be right by your side the entire night,” He reassured. “And if I’m not right by you, I won’t be anymore than ten feet away. If some asshole comes up to you, I’ll take care of him. Anything as long as you get to wear what you want to the party, deal?” His eyebrows bounced as he calmed her down. 

  “Deal, but I get to wear your shirt.” She bargained, her hands gripping his open button up. It was a nice black one, though it was ratty, it was still her favourite button up of his. He glanced down at it. She was always taking it, leaving him to snatch it back by stuffing it in his overnight bag when he left. He had just gotten it back two weeks ago when he had to wash it. He knew that her attempts of stealing it were coming, but he would have thought she’d be a little bit more subtle about it. 

  “Whatever you want, Princess.” He pressed a kiss to her lips before sliding her off his lap to stand up, grabbing the swim trunks from the bed. 

 _____________________________________________________________________

  The party certainly was in full swing. Coke was on the tables, people handing off wads of cash towards the smug guy who brought it. John B and Sarah were already sloshed and they had only been there for an hour and a half. Kie had only one beer, but was currently sharing a blunt with John B and Sarah while Pope nursed his second beer. Y/n and JJ were standing off to the side, Y/n’s back pressed against the living room wall, JJ’s hand pressed into the wall by her head. He sipped at his water bottle while she finally had her first beer of the night. She didn’t like getting intoxicated, especially not when JJ was sober. She wanted to talk to her boyfriend, not make a complete fool out of herself. 

  “Can you believe that Pope is actually drinking more than one beer tonight? I think I even saw him try a hit of the blunt.” Y/n asked JJ, proud of her uptight friend for finally letting loose. Dating Kie has been such a good thing for him, he’s gotten so much more relaxed. JJ glanced over his shoulder, still hovering over his girlfriend. 

  “’Atta boy, Pope,” He hollered over the thumping music, tossing his empty water bottle to the floor and rising his now free fist in the air to fist pump. Pope sending him a ‘Whoop’ and a fist pump back from where he sat on the fancy leather couch. “Princess, I need to go get another water bottle. You want to come with me or sit with the others?” He asked, holding her hand gently while his other one slid off the wall. 

  “You go, I’ll sit with the inebriated and keep them company.” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The two of them glanced over at their friend group as they laughed loudly about something. Their intoxicated minds finding the smallest things funny. 

  “If you’re sure,” JJ looked back at Y/n wanting to make sure she was completely okay with him grabbing another drink. She nodded, a wide smile on her face at his protectiveness. “Okay, I’ll be there in like five seconds, ten tops. Love you.” He rushed, bouncing out of her sight in an effort to rush back to her. She laughed, shaking her head before taking a sip of her beer. Making her way towards the group falling all over each other with laughter, she suddenly felt the weight of eyes burning into her back. 

  Glancing behind her, she didn’t see anyone staring at her. Shrugging it off, she continued her short walk, sitting down next to John B who didn’t even notice her presence yet. “Hey, Y/n, where’s JJ?” Pope asked, noticing only one half of the duo joining them. John B looked beside him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his best friend’s girlfriend. 

  “Getting another water bottle, he’ll be here in a sec.” She told him, downing the rest of her beer, not wanting to set it down anywhere. John B slung his arm around Y/n’s shoulders, using the hand holding his own solo cup to point at her. 

  “She sleeps with my best friend, but not only does she do that, but she also makes him happy,” John B slurred, nearly poking Y/n in the face by accident. “Like, really happy - happier than I’ve ever seen him,” John B took his arm off Y/n creating big gestures with his hands as he talked. Dodging his flailing arms, Y/n smiled at his drunken sweetness. “I think that JJ might marry her someday, then everyone will know that they have sex!” John B carried on, making Y/n’s cheeks flare up. 

  “Hey, John B, Imma go get you a water, actually-” Pope paused, glancing at the group. Through he was slightly tipsy, he still knew that he needed to be more responsible for the ones who were way passed tipsy. “I’m gonna get you all a water, want one, Y/n?” He asked, knowing that she was probably in much better shape than him, but he also knew that she shouldn’t be venturing off into the crowd alone, let alone her being comfortable to do so. 

  “Sure! Thanks Pope!” She smiled, Pope returning the gesture before heading off the same direction JJ went off in. John B started to talk loudly to Sarah, the two in their conversation while Kie rattled off about Microplastics in the ocean, nobody really listening to her. A hand landing on her shoulder was odd, since JJ never walked up behind her at a party and touched her from behind, always wanting her to know that it was him and not some creep. That’s why her blood seemed to still in her body at the hand. 

  “Looks like you could use some better company.” Someone spoke, sliding into the spot next to her, his arm resting around her shoulders much like John B’s had seconds before. She glanced at him, everything about him screaming Touron, especially since he thought hitting on her would get him anywhere. Thought their relationship surprised every local, that still meant that they all knew about it. 

  “No, I’m really okay. These are my friends, also, by boyfriend and my other friend will be back in a couple of seconds, but if you’re looking for someone to talk to, there is a lot of Lacrosse players over there playing Beer Pong.” She pointed towards the herd of boys playing Beer Pong on the grand mahogany dinning table. The Touron glanced over there, his slicked back hair catching the light with the amount of gel he had in it. He pulled a face, shrugging and tightening his arm around her shoulders. 

  “I don’t know, I think you’d be better company,” He denied, obviously not taking the hint. Instead, he just stomped on the hint and punted it into the world’s farthest dumpster. “Besides, I don’t really think you have a boyfriend, you’re probably just telling me that so I leave you alone.” 

  “I can assure you, I am telling the whole truth when I tell you my boyfriend is going to be right back. And I do want you to leave me alone, that’s why I said ‘no’ earlier.” She remarked, her voice biting. He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he dramatically looked around. 

  “I certainly don’t see anyone coming ‘right back’,” He mocked, air-quoting her words. She huffed, rolling her eyes. “So I really don’t think you were telling me the truth about you boyfriend, Sweetheart-” 

  “Well, prepare to be proven wrong,” A new voice joined the conversation, the two of them looking to the side where there was a space at the corner of the two couches. There stood JJ, he dumped the two water bottles he held into Pope’s hands. Pope stood slightly behind JJ, looking rather nervous about what was going to happen as he dropped the bottles to the couch kie was laid out on. “Meet the boyfriend who’s now back and wanting you to leave before you leave with a limp.” He threatened the posh boy. 

  “So what? She wasn’t lying about the boyfriend, but can she really except not to be hit on when wearing that kind of a bikini,” He asked, speaking as if he was the victim being harassed. JJ’s knuckles cracked as he clenched them into a fist, his nostrils flaring, his eyes lighting up with anger. Even in their drunken and high daze, John B, Kie, and Sarah looked up with nervous eyes, watching the events unfolding. “And how can you be mad when you’re the one who left her alone after you let her leave the house wearing it?” He asked, Pope cringed, know what that comment ignited in JJ. Y/n watched, her mouth hanging open when he implied that she was JJ’s property. 

  “I see you’ve made your choice,” JJ spoke with a voice so calm that it scared the group. They had never heard his voice so calm in a situation like this. It was normally aggressive and raspy, strained from him trying to suppress his anger. It was as if he didn’t have anger issues and he was going to deal with this rationally. Just as the group was questioned what the blonde’s next moves were going to be, he lunged forward, gripping the collar of the guys polo, his fist connecting to his nose with a loud crack. “Did you really expect me not to break your nose being that much of a dick? You can’t be mad that your buddies aren’t here to protect you if they left you alone!” JJ’s normal aggressive voice returned, his fist painted with the guy’s blood as he sent blow after blow to the guy’s face. 

  “JJ! JJ! He’s had enough! This isn’t worth getting arrested again! JJ,” Y/n pleaded with her angry boyfriend, seeing him slamming the preppy boy against the wall, scarlet blood dropping to the dark hardwood floors of the house. “JJ,” She tried again, her voice scratchy from yelling so loud. “Pope! Help me grab his arm!” She called, a crowd forming to watch the fight. She knew John B was still too drunk to be able to help. Pope rushed towards JJ, the pair grabbing his arm when he went to power up another punch. 

  “Come on, man! We gotta go!” Pope called, but JJ stomped his foot into the Prep’s foot, a strangled scream leaving the Prep’s mouth as the tiny bones in his foot cracked. 

  “JJ! Stop!” Y/n yelled, tugging on the arm she clutched to her. JJ, having just sent a harsh kick to the shin of the opposite leg that he had just stepped on, glanced at her. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop as she tugged on his arm once again. He couldn’t help but compare her to earlier that night. Her arms were wrapped around his like they were right them, she shook it, just like she was doing right then, but her eyes were different. Earlier, they were light and big, resembling a puppy dog. Now, her eyes were wide and nervous, scared that he’d get in trouble over her - knowing that the Prep was no match for him. 

  “Let’s get out of here,” JJ nodded. his heart was still thumping with pure fury, but he knew he needed to walk away for her. She nodded, letting go of his arm, thinking he was completely done. “You get the others, I’ll be right there-” He didn’t even wait a second before he sent his knee into the Prep’s groin, hitting him square on. A loud ‘humph’ left the guy as he tried to double over, but JJ held him up by his polo collar. “You touch my girl, I break you. You try to press charges, I finish the job without her here to stop me, deal?” He hissed in a low voice. 

  “JJ! Stop and come,” Y/n ordered, realizing what her boyfriend was still fighting. JJ’s eyes hardened at the lack of response from the scared Prep, making him nod frantically. Once JJ’s hands left his collar, the boy crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain. “Let’s go, someone probably called the cops - the drug dealers took off.” She alerted JJ, Pope already trying to get the other three to follow him towards the van. Y/n grabbed JJ’s hand, pulling him through the watchful crowd. 

  The run to the van was all Pope, Y/n, and JJ trying to get the other three to run, basically pulling them along behind them. Once they were in the van though, that was another story. Tires squealing as JJ pulled off, speeding down the road, Y/n sitting in the passenger seat as she gripped on for dear life, and the other four being tossed around. “I’m sorry for leaving you for so long, someone decided to take an ice bath in the cooler, it took three of us to pull him out because his ass got stuck.” JJ spoke up, his voice soft. The van was quiet as eyelids became heavy in the back. Y/n looked over at him, his speed slowing once they got into Pogue territory. 

  “It’s okay, JJ. You protected me, though you went a little over and beyond, but none-the-less, you still protected me. Just like you promised,” Her voice was just as soft, the couple sharing a sweet moment. Cruising down the street, JJ couldn’t help but look over at her. “But, next time, please take yourself into account, Jay. It’s really not worth getting arrested again.” She pleaded. 

  “What are you talking about? Your safety is totally worth getting arrested for. I’d rather get arrested protecting you than you getting hurt. I would lose my mind if you got hurt.” He argued. She perked an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t see it since he turned his head to glance in front of them before looking back at her. 

  “And what happened back there wasn’t you losing your mind,” She asked. He shook his head, a light smile on his face as the air became lighter. “No matter that, how about we make a deal? You learn when to walk away and, to help you learn, every time you walk away from a fight - you get a little treat. How does that sound? We got a deal?” She proposed with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. JJ chuckled, taking one hand off the wheel to attach to her thigh, squeezing it affectionately. 

  “We got a deal.” He agreed, his blue eyes pouring all his love and affection into hers. It was like they were the only ones in the van. JJ’s heart swelled with love so much that it throbbed painfully, feeling like it was ready to burst with all the love being confined within it. Their moment was quickly interrupted by Pope sticking his head between the seats, breaking their eye contact. 

  “Yeah, as cute and sickening this moment between you two is, I would still like to get to John B’s in one piece. So, eyes on the road, Maybank!” He exclaimed, pointing to the empty road. JJ huffed, setting his eyes on the dark road ahead, leaving his hand on Y/n’s thigh. 

  “Fine, but Y/n and I call the spare room!” JJ announced to Pope who settled in the back once again. Pope groaned, kicking himself that he hadn’t called dibs on it sooner. 

  “You two always get the spare! Kie and I get it next time.” Pope bargained, his tone low. 

  “Deal.” JJ smirked, shooting Y/n a wink, flashing his crossed fingers while still keeping them from Pope’s sight. 

  “I saw that, Maybank!”               

[rafecameron]

evasion

Summary: You don’t understand why your best friend is suddenly avoiding you like the plague, but once he confesses his reasons you have a decision to make.

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: alcohol, a little bit of angst

*GIF is mine*

Topper had never been as tough as he’d made out to be. His interior was soft and his heart was easily broken that’s why after Sarah he vowed to himself he’d never fall in love again. So when he found himself falling for his best friend he unconsciously started distancing himself. Making excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out, letting texts go unanswered for days. He hadn’t meant to do it, but his mind was so scared of going through the pain again it decided the best option was to block everything out. That meant you’d suddenly gone from seeing him everyday, to clinging onto his arm as you walked and falling into each other due to laughter to not hearing from him for days on end. To watching him make an excuse and leave whenever you would show up.

At first you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he really did have a family dinner to go to or plans with Kelce he had forgotten about until now. But after a couple of weeks you started to believe that he wasn’t just forgetting important events and that he was in fact avoiding you. And you couldn’t figure out why. Had you done something or said something to make him upset with you? You’d never fallen out with Topper before, sharing your fair few tiffs with Rafe and Kelce over the years, Topper was always the one that stuck around no matter what. So why was he now avoiding you like you were some deadly disease.

You make your way through Rafes house and out to his garden where you knew your friends would be. Kelce was swimming laps in the pool, Rafe was talking animatedly into his phone and Topper was lounging on a sun bed watching them both. He looked over and caught your eyes, offering what seemed to be a half hearted smile in your direction.

You stroll over to him, determined to talk to him and get things back to normal. You missed your best friend. But as you get closer you notice him glance down at his watch and sit up, worry seeping through your body at his actions.

“Hey, Top.” You offer him a small wave and a nervous smile.

“Uh hey,” he replies as he stands up from his sun bed, “Sorry I actually have to go. Promised my mum I’d help with some things around the house.”

“Oh…” you watch him fumble around grabbing his things before he disappears into the house without a second glance. You knew he was lying, he never helped around the house and his mother would never ask him to. You avert your eyes over to Kelce who had stopped his swimming and was resting his arms against the side of the pool watching the interaction. The boy simply shrugs when your eyes meet his and he pushes back off the wall again.

You sigh and plop down onto the bed Topper had just vacated. You already wanted to slink off back home, Toppers quick departure and cold greeting enough to ruin any hopes you had of having fun today.

You’d asked Rafe and Kelce that day if they had noticed anything different, Rafe said no, though you were sure this was more because he couldn’t be bothered to get involved. But Kelce had noticed his friends' quick disappearances and feeble excuses for the past few weeks to why he couldn’t attend events he’d usually be all over. But he had no ideas as to why so you continued to be left in the dark.

After that day you couldn’t help but fall into a sulk. A frown prominent on your face every second you were around your friends. You didn’t mean to take it out on them but you couldn’t help it. Being around them made you think of Topper and thinking of your friend ignoring you caused your heart to drop and shatter.

It had been a little over a month since you’d even seen Topper now and you were moping more than ever.

“For gods sake y/n, would it kill you to smile a little?” Rafe groans as you sink into his couch with a face like thunder.

You shoot the boy a glare, “It might actually.” You huff.

“I can’t take this anymore, either you say something to him or I fucking will.” Rafe states matching your glare.

“You don’t think I’ve tried? He’s ignoring me Rafe, I can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to know me.” You sigh out.

So Rafe decides to intervene, coming up with a simple plan to get you and Topper alone together so you could talk through whatever the hell was going on with him. He pushes you up the stairs and into the study, his phone perched between his ear and shoulder as Topper talks on the other end of it.

“He’s on his way, stay here.” Rafe instructs you, pulling the door halfway closed as he disappears back downstairs.

So you wait, pacing up and down the study, your lower lip being assaulted by your teeth. You’d never been nervous to see Topper before but now your hands were shaking and you couldn’t stop your heart beating out of your chest. It felt like you had been stuck in this study fretting over the inevitable meeting for the whole day but you knew it couldn’t have been more than half an hour.

Once you heard two voices getting closer you stopped pacing, turning to face the door. Soon enough Topper was stumbling through the door before it was slammed shut, the sound of the key turning in the lock. Topper hadn’t even noticed you, instead he banged on the door calling for Rafe to stop messing around and let him out. You cleared your throat and Topper's hand stopped on its way to the door again, he slowly turned and when his eyes met yours the colour seemed to drain from his face at the sight of you and your heart sank. You just couldn’t understand why he hated you so much all of a sudden.

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly.

“Rafe never said you’d be here.” Topper replies, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I know. You wouldn’t have come if you’d known.” You state, you let out a sigh and turn to lean back against the desk, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as you looked down.

Topper stayed quiet, he didn’t even try to pretend he hadn’t been avoiding you which only served to hurt you more. You chewed on your lower lip, you’d rehearsed a whole speech in your head but now he was here you had forgotten all of your words.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You finally ask, lifting your eyes from your feet to look over at him again but his eyes aren’t on you, “Did I do something wrong?”

His head snaps round at that, eyes swimming with what looked like anger, “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Topper tells you adamantly, “Don’t think that.”

“Well what else am I supposed to think?” You ask your voice raising a little, “You haven’t spoken to me in over a month! How am I not supposed to think I’ve done something wrong?”

Topper let’s out a groan and runs his fingers through his hair, the frown constantly prominent on his face, “Look, it’s my problem, okay? You didn’t do anything.” He almost tells you, he almost spills out his feelings for you with the hope that you feel the same but before he has the chance to, you speak again and he knows he can’t tell you.

“You’re my best friend Topper! Please don’t shut me out.” You beg him.

Topper's frown is replaced by a look of sadness which he quickly recovers himself from, he shakes his head and turns to bang on the door again.

“Rafe, I know you’re listening asshole, let me out.” He kicks at the door and you lean back against the desk, willing the tears not to fall.

The door unlocks, an annoyed looking Rafe appearing behind it, “My dad will fucking kill me if you damage this door.” He frowns pushing past Topper to look down at where the boy had been kicking.

Topper takes that as his opportunity to slip out of the room and disappear down the hallway. You let the tears slip past your eyes now he’s gone, ignoring Rafe mumbling to himself about the door while you let yourself break down.

Once Rafe realises you’re crying he hurries over, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders a concerned look plastered across his face.

“He’ll come around, y/n.” He tries to reassure you but you just shake your head. You didn’t think he’d come round, you’d lost him forever and you had no idea why.

“He won’t, Rafe.” You sob out, “He hates me and he won’t even tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can fix it!”

You sob into Rafes chest, your body shaking with your cries as Rafe holds you silently. Rafe had never seen you upset before, he wasn’t very good with sympathy so whenever you were upset you would go to Topper. So Rafe held you awkwardly, trying his best to soothe you and tell you everything would be okay, but no matter what he said you couldn’t stop crying. No matter how many times he repeated that it would be okay and things would work out you just couldn’t believe him.

The next couple of weeks you spent mostly by yourself. You tried your best to get over your heart break by doing things to take your mind off Topper. You baked cookies - which were awful but still, you had tried - and you took care of yourself. You took long baths, read novels, plastered on face masks and hair masks, painted your nails. And it all made you feel good and a little less heart broken.

So when Rafe called inviting you to a party you didn’t even think twice about agreeing. Topper only entering your thoughts after you had hung up the phone. It was a waste of time wondering if he would be in attendance, of course he would be. But as confused and upset as you still were at him, you felt you could face him without breaking down when he inevitably ignores you.

You dressed up in your best dress, spending more time on your hair and make up than you usually would, wanting to take pride in your appearance. You hoped feeling confident in your exterior would make you feel stronger on the inside.

You arrived to Rafes house two hours after the party had started, your usual time of arrival. There was nothing worse than being at the start of the party while everyone was still awkward and sober. You entered the house, heading straight towards the kitchen to get a drink, you also knew that was the most likely place you’d find Rafe and Kelce.

You were right of course, Rafe was leant back against the kitchen island, Topper and Kelce in front of him chugging beers while the group around them cheered them on.

“Not missing the fun am I?” You ask as you appear beside Rafe.

“I was beginning to forget what you looked like.” Rafe joked pulling you into a one armed hug before quickly mixing you a too strong drink.

“Hi.” You smile over to the two boys who had finished downing their drinks. Kelce returns your greeting, Topper offering you the slightest of smiles before turning and placing his empty bottle on the counter beside you.

Topper ignoring you still hurt like hell but you were determined not to let him see it. If he was okay with not talking to you anymore you were going to pretend you were perfectly fine without him as well.

Drunk you however was not so confident she was okay without Topper. After four beers, two overly strong drinks from Rafe and three shots instigated by Kelce you were more than a little drunk and you were on a warpath to find your blonde friend - or ex-friend, you weren’t entirely sure which fitted best.

“You!” You slur out when you find him on the landing upstairs, you push against his chest causing yourself to stumble much more than the boy in front of you, “Why do you hate me?”

Topper frowns, grabbing at your hands and trying to steady you. He looks around the hallway nervously as you shout at him, quickly pulling you into Rafes room for privacy.

“Y/N, I think you should try and sleep.” Topper instructs you trying to lead you towards your friend's bed.

You shake your head and push him off of you, “No! I refuse to leave without answers. Why do you hate me? What did I do to you? Why can’t you just tell me instead of avoiding me, you’re killing me here Top!” You feel tears prick at your eyes and if you were sober you might have been able to subside them but now they were streaming down your face.

Topper sighs, he wants nothing more than to reach out and pull you into a hug. To comfort you, to hold you and promise none of this was your fault and that he loved you more than anything. But wanting to do that was what caused this problem in the first place.

You could see the hesitation on his face and you cross your arms, stomping your foot slightly like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Tell me Topper. I deserve to know.” You demand and Topper let’s out another sigh because he knows you’re right. He’s been distant and rude and you deserve more than that, so with his heart beating at a ridiculously fast pace he tells you the truth.

“You didn’t do anything,” he begins, quickly shutting you up with a wave of his hand when you start to talk over him. “You didn’t do anything.” He repeats himself, “I meant what I said when I said it was my problem. I was scared so I distanced myself from you.”

“Why were you scared?” You ask quietly when Toppers pause was too long for your liking.

“Because I didn’t want my heart to break again.” Topper lets out a slightly shaky breath, he suddenly seemed a lot more sober than you were, “I didn’t mean to, but I fell for you y/n. I fell hard and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t want to be rejected. I wanted the feelings to go away and I thought if I avoided you I might get over it.”

You find it hard to process what he’s saying in your drunken state, your brows furrowed as you tilt your head studying him.

“Topper I-“ you cut yourself off with another frown, your head shaking slightly, “I don’t know-“

“It’s fine.” Topper cuts in, his stance suddenly nervous, “I get it, you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have said anything… I - you should get some sleep.” He quickly turns and hurries from the room without a second glance.

You sit on the edge of the bed and lay back, eyes staring up at the ceiling as you try your best to work out what Topper had told you. He fell for you, but what is that supposed to mean? Was he in love with you? Were you in love with him? You had no idea how you felt, Toppers words were swirling round in your head and making you feel sick. You felt dizzy and confused and were thankful that the alcohol worked quickly to knock you out.

The next morning you wake with covers wrapped around you. Your head hurt but not as much as you imagined it would. You wished you had woken up blissfully unaware of last nights events, either from the excessive alcohol consumption of just from a fuzzy hangover. But you awoke remembering the events perfectly and the sick feeling quickly returned.

You turn onto your side, eyes peering down at your friend on the floor who was eyeing you with a smirk, “Morning, you look a mess.”

“Thanks Rafe.” You roll your eyes and pull the covers up to your chin, “One, never let me drink that much again and two, never leave me unattended when you inevitably fail number one.”

Rafe laughs and rolls onto his side leaning up on his elbow, “I refuse to take responsibility for your messiness, Kelce got the shots out.” He defends himself.

You let out a groan and drop your head down onto his pillows, “Something worse than the shots happened.” You admit quietly.

“Something worse than Kelce pouring double whiskey shots and forcing everyone to drink them? Must be pretty bad.” Rafe comments.

You bury your face into the pillows, “I found Topper,” you mumble out, “I confronted him and he told me he loved me and I didn’t fucking say anything.”

You weren’t sure if Rafe would understand your muffled confession but he did, you lift your head when he doesn’t reply only to find him staring up at you.

“Explains why he’s been avoiding you.” He says simply with a shrug.

You shoot him an incredulous look, “Is that all you can say?” You ask, voice a little high pitched in disbelief

“What?” Rafe asks defensively, “Do you want me to say you’re an idiot for not saying it back? Because you are.”

Your brows furry and you sit up fully, your head spinning from the sudden movement, “But I don’t know if I feel the same way.” You admit, “He’s my best friend…”

Rafe sighs and copies your movements, sitting up on his makeshift bed on the floor, “Do you want me to listen or do you want advice?” He asks.

You consider for a moment, it would be nice to sound out your thoughts with someone, but you knew Rafe well and despite the awful decisions he makes for himself he is good at giving advice. Rafe notices things other people don’t, he’s good at watching people and reading thoughts and he’d hate to hear you say it but sometimes he was like the mother of the group. Always sorting everyone’s problems while ignoring his own, so you ask for his advice.

“You’re in love with him.” He says simply.

You look down at him, waiting a beat for him to continue but shoot him a glare when he doesn’t, “Is that it? Your great wisdom?” You scoff.

Rafe rolls his eyes, bringing his knees up slightly and wrapping his arms around them, “You’ve been in love with him for a while. I can tell.”

“Rafe you aren’t helping.” You let out a groan.

“Think about it y/n! I’m your best friend too, right?” You nod so he continues, “You wouldn’t act the same if I started avoiding you. You wouldn’t sulk and cry, you’d come up to me and call me all the names under the sun and probably hit me. But you cried, because it hurt more because it’s Topper. You aren’t happy when he’s not around, Topper makes you happy. He always has. You love him, you're just too scared to see it, like he has been.”

You study Rafe for a moment considering what he’s said, was he right? Have you loved Topper all this time and just been too stubborn or blind (or likely both) to notice? You think back to your times with Topper, a slight smile on your face at the memories. Topper was the one you always sort out for cuddles. He was the one who’s hoodies you stole when it got cold, who’s house you slept over at the most. Topper was your rock and you had been lost without him. He made you comfortable, made you feel safe and secure. The swell of your heart when he’s around has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been your best friend for so long but has everything to do with the fact that you’re in love with him. Crazily, stupidly in love with him, and it took Rafe of all people to make you see it.

You slowly nod your head, “You’re right, Rafe. I’m in love with Topper.” You declare, a smile forming on your lips as you spoke.

“I’m always right you should know this by now.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Now go tell him and leave me to sleep off this headache.” He lays back down and rolls over while you jump out of the bed.

You don’t care that you’re in your dress from the night before. You don’t care that your hair resembles a bird's nest and your make up is probably a mess. You don’t care about any of it, all you care about is telling Topper how you feel, and hoping your silence the night before hadn’t ruined everything.

You walk to Toppers, your feet sore from wearing your heels the night before so you walk barefoot, your shoes clutched in your hand as you stride determinedly towards the Thornton residence. You don’t think twice about knocking on the door until after your fourth pound, lip between your teeth as you imagine his mother’s face seeing you stood a mess on her doorstep. Prim and proper Mrs Thornton would not be too pleased with the sight, but luckily for you it was Topper who answered the door. Sleep is still evident in his eyes and messy hair when he appears in front of you.

“Y/N?” He asks rubbing sleep from his eyes, “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Can i come in? I really need to talk to you.”

Topper sighs, leaning tiredly against his front door, “If this is about last night please just forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” You protest.

“Please y/n. I’m too hungover for this,” he groans, you open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, “Okay you want to talk about it? I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry I fell for you and I’m sorry I avoided you and I’m sorry I brought it up last night and ruined everything even more,” he rambles out, speaking a little louder each time you open your mouth to speak, “I’m an idiot, and you don’t feel the same, it’s fine.”

“Topper-“

“I mean it’s not fine, far from fine actually. But I’ll get over it. I just hope you don’t hate me forever because of it.”

“Top-“

“Can you just forget I ever said anything? I’ll stop avoiding you and I’ll try and just forget everything.”

“Topper!” You shout finally getting him to stop his ramblings and look at you wide eyed.

You stand in silence for a couple of seconds, you trying to sort out in your head what you should say, Topper looking at you desperately. But words fail you so instead you rush forward, grabbing Toppers face in your hands and pressing your lips against his. Topper's shock is soon replaced by confusion and then relief as he kisses you back, melting into your touch.

Kissing Topper felt like no matter what everything would be okay. It was like coming home after a weekend trip and feeling at home again. The sound of the morning chirping of birds disappeared as you got lost in him. You were the only two people in the world, right now in this moment nothing else mattered except from you and Topper.

“Y/N,” Topper begins when you finally pull away but you shush him.

“I love you. I think I always have. And I think we’re both idiots for taking so long to realise this.” You whisper, lips still hovering in front of his.

Topper's heart soars and he’s sure he’s never felt so full of love before in his life. It was like his body was on fire with the feeling and he never wanted to feel anything else again.

He leans down, kissing you again quickly before picking you up. You laugh softly and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Let’s go sleep these hangovers off, then you can tell me again how much you love me.” Topper smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him before carrying you up to his room.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You smile kissing over his face as he lays you down on his bed, “Never stop speaking to me for that long again, my heart can’t take it.”

Topper leans down, soft lips against your cheek and jaw, “I will never leave your side again.” He promises, lips finally finding yours in a slow lingering kiss before he finally falls onto the bed beside you and pulls you against his chest.

“I love you.” He mumbles against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. His soft breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep, full of happy pictures of your further with Topper forever by your side.

Tags: @rudyypankow​ @topperthornton​ @rafej-cambanks​ @joshy-obx​

[yeojaa]

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish).  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡  author note.  this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how:  with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered.  (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.)  He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp.  He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.  

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite.  (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise.  They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.)  Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better.  Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems.  No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away.  Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.”  It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with).  He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe.  “What?”  You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot).  You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though.  Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship.  A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still.  Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different.  Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,”  he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair.  This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back.  You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head.  (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it.  Absolutely fucking abhors it.  He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back.  Not this spectre that’s taken up your space. 

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?”  The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms. 

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders.  “Nothing.”  Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying.  Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more.  It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester.  It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,”  he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud.  It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together.  Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”  You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects.  Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.”  The fact he has to do this is driving him mad.  It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect.  The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming.  “You want me to talk about you?”  It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.”  

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting.  But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare.  It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges.  So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.   

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance.  “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another.  It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest.  He’s not used to this.  (You’re his first and only love.  A part of him is grateful for that;  another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.   

“I love you,”  you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together.  Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on.  “But you’re an idiot.”   

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin.  Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark.  “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop.  But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.”  Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears.  Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach.  “I would give you anything.  Anything.”

“I know.”  Really, he does.  He’s known that since you were kids.  It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”  

It’s not rhetorical.  You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands.  Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty.  (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him.  But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,”  he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.”  After all, you’d already gotten one.  Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised.  Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways.  “I want better.” 

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention.  “You want better?”  There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry.  “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book.  Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks.  “Not like that.”  You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around.  (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath.  Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.  

“I just need you to be better.”  You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards.  You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.  

This is different though.  You love him.  You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you.  Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.  

So you ask - for both your sakes. 

He promises he will be and you believe him.  Have to.

For both of your sakes.

[isitstraightvodka]

Strip

in which gwil doesn't like you and it's your mission to find out why.

pairing: gwilym lee x fem!reader

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: enemies to lovers, smut (the rough kind), oral (both m and f receiving), angst, swearing, alcohol use

a/n: hello my loves! i present to u what i have been working on for a while, it's filthy so read ahead w caution 😂😳 i really hope u enjoy it and please let me know if u do. any feedback, asks / rbs, would be much appreciated xx also gif credit is @mazzelloplots​ 💕

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

You had no idea what you'd done for Gwil to hate your guts but it must be dead serious because he just about didn't give you any attention whenever you were in the same room. It was infuriating, as each day passed, you racked your brain to remember if you'd done or said anything for him to act like this around you but as always, nothing came to mind. All you got was a cold stare, or no eye contact at all, and at the very least, a few sentences but that was it. It made it even worse that both of you were friends with Ben, after all that's how you were introduced to each other, you figured he'd be a good guy as was evident the first time you met, a regular mutual friend greeting; first handshake, small smiles and twinkling new eyes but ever since then, everything had changed.

Every time you went out and saw Gwil, he either said nothing to you but "Hi." or he'd rush off somewhere else the moment you approached him. The cold shoulder did not do anything for your confidence, you were a friendly person and loved meeting new people but this was something else entirely, the confusion soon turned to tension and anger, ripping at your hair during lonely nights in your apartment, thinking why doesn't he like me? Then you went to Ben who just shrugged and said he'd warm up to you eventually, which you found incredibly difficult to believe, you weren't having it, it had been almost half a year and no progress, you'd had enough, you had to confront him.

Your opportunity arose only a week later, during a party at Joe's house.  it made your muscles tense up knowing you were going to see Gwil, and it wasn't fair of him to give you this sort of treatment without a shred of explanation. Everything was in full-swing when you arrived by your lonesome, but you didn't waste no longer than ten minutes making your move, so there you were, drink in hand, when you cornered him talking to Lucy. Walking head held high, you approached them, and Lucy smiled when she noticed you, you shared a kiss on the cheek before exchanging respective compliments on each other's looks, then your attention went to him.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

Both he and Lucy looked at you before the blonde nudged him with her arm, giving him a cool stare, as if to say, "Go sort this out", which was true since you and her had talked about the situation too, and her response was "It's between you and him, so get in there girl and stand up for yourself", and right now, tonight, you were going to heed her advice.

Gwil took a deep breath and walked next to you as you made your way to the nearest room, where it was quiet enough to talk, but the walk there seemed to stretch on for hours instead of a matter of seconds. You could feel the anxiety flooding through your body when his arm brushed your shoulder, you could tell he wasn't looking at you, his fingers gripping his wine glass a little too tight. Some sort of emotion hung between the two of you, you couldn't put your finger on it but it was something strong, something deep, Great another thing for you to be confused about. What you didn't know is that Gwil felt it too. 

After what felt like an age, you entered the guest bedroom, all neat and empty, leaving the impression nobody had stayed in there for a long time. Gwil had his free hand tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, standing by the door once he closed it, silencing the bustle of the party, but still didn't give you his attention. You took a deep breath and tapped your nail on the rim of your drink, allowing your heartbeat to decrease, opening the conversation very kindly.

"I believe there is something we have to discuss."

All he did was part his lips and take a swig of red wine, leaning back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. Not one word left his mouth, he didn't move an inch and it took a lot in you not to start raising your voice. Why does he not want to talk to you? What is up his ass? Fucking say something, you bastard! The tension in the room was too stifling for you to cope with so you spoke again, but harsher.

"Fuck, you should man up and talk to me like a decent bloke, I thought you would be."

And that's when he finally looked at you. Without even realising it, the suddenness of eye contact made shivers run down your spine, deep blue eyes staring into yours, brows furrowed in faint disgust.

"Hate to burst your bubble then, love."

More shivers, rippling throughout your bones so fast you were almost afraid he'd be able to notice you slightly trembling. His voice wasn't supposed to do that....but it did, from the way he said it, from the way you finally saw his eyes in clear view, how fucking hot he looked just standing there, how had you not noticed that before? Because his blind hatred of you clouded that fact. You shook the thoughts out of your head and stood your ground.

"I seriously have no clue why you been acting like this around me. I have been nothing but kind to you, I haven't said one bad word to you, I truly wanted us to be friends but you find an excuse to escape me every chance you get!"

Your cheeks flushed red once the words left your lips, your free hand scrunching up into a fist, nails digging into your palm. Gwil all but sighed and...was that a smirk you saw? No, just a trick of the lights. The point of his shoe tapped the carpet as he looked down at his half-empty glass, collecting his thoughts.

"Not a bad word? I heard you talking to Joe the other week, you called me a dickhead."

"I have every reason to, you barely talk to me. This is the most you've talked to me in weeks."

"If you have reasons, then I have them too."

"Fucking tell me then instead of practically ignoring me! It's childish."

"So I'm the child but you're the one yelling." He cocked an eyebrow, was that another smirk? He's got me so confused? Is that what he wants?

"How do you expect me to react? I haven't appreciated the cold shoulder, Gwilym."

"I don't appreciate you running your mouth."

"Could just tell me whatever reasons you have instead of this."

You and him went back forth, trying to fight each other but it didn't seem to do anything good, it only heightened the tension between you two but a specific kind of tension. One you knew now and one he managed to figured out seeing you in front of him, raising your voice. In this moment, he saw how attractive you were, more so than he already thought, your face heating up and your hair glowing from the muted lights, the dress hugging your body almost provocatively, silver diamonds hanging from your ears and cherry-coloured lips parted slightly between words. You were so sexy and the alcohol buzzing through him wasn't helping, but this was the reason for it all. He fancied you.

"Look, it's complicated." He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. You had to bite back a laugh, is he serious?

"No, it's not. Open your mouth and just tell me."

But it turns out he didn't need to open his mouth, at least not the way you expected him to. It happened swiftly, too fast for you to comprehend, all you really saw was his glass fall to the floor, wine staining the carpet, then he crossed the room over you within three strides, took your face in his hands and crushed his lips against yours.

Your eyes flew open in surprise at the sudden pressure of his kiss...his kiss? You could barely understand what was happening, he held onto you like he needed air to breathe, you could taste the wine on his tongue, it was intoxicating, it felt...nice but was the wine nice or the aggression of his mouth? Questions swirled your mind, it didn't help your emotions during this moment, you didn't realise your mouth had opened on its own which allowed him to slip his tongue in a little and close the gap between you again, the second kiss even harder and more passionate, the softest groan of relief and delight from him ringing in your ears. You almost let yourself fall under his spell before you caught yourself and made a muffled squeak, your hand finding his jacket and pushing him away from you, gasping for a breath.

"What the fuck, Gwil?"

Thoughts circled your head, words bouncing off the walls, your hand brushing over your bottom lip, the gloss transferring to your skin as it had done on his lips, stained and shiny, you were surprised you were still holding your wine glass. He cocked an eyebrow at you as heat rose to his cheeks, he raised his hand almost as if he was apologising but you stopped him, holding up your own hand and shaking your head.

"What was that?"

"I...I kissed you."

"No shit Sherlock! Why? How is that supposed to explain anything?"

"I'm- I..." He couldn't seem to find the right words, he hesitated reaching his hand out further before deciding against it and pushing it back through his hair. You gulped, why is it so hot when he does that? You were so glad he couldn't read your mind right now, if he had heard what you just said, you sure would wish for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

"You think a kiss is going to solve everything? I'm not some plastic doll for you to play around with however you please."

"I..I know, I just..."

"Just what? I thought you'd tell me with words, I though-"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I like you, okay?"

His pupils were blown wide as much as yours when he half-yelled the words and this time you were sure the glass was going to slip through your fingers but it still didn't, in fact you had a right mind to just down the whole thing after what he told you. You thought he didn't like you...he liked you? If you were confused before, then you were even more now, your hand fell to your side as you stared at him, eyes like glass, you couldn't even blink. Gwil's gaze had turned to the floor, pretending to be interested in the pale white carpet, his fingers moving to the back of his neck where sweat began to form. He waited for you to speak, the seconds ticked by painfully, it felt so long before you said anything.

"You...like me?" You gulped, trying to process his revelation. He chewed on his bottom lip and tucked both hands back into his pocket, nodding as his eyes flicked over to you.

"Yeah, I do, I like you. A lot."

His voice seemed fearful, anxious but with an underlying desperation, like that of a teenager admitting a big brush, it was rather cute in your eyes; first hot now cute? How can he be both? Stop it, stop questioning everything. You cursed yourself, fingers wrapped around your glass harder you thought it might crack. Instead of replying, you drained the wine, it was the only thing you could think of doing. Gwil watched as your throat moved, as you swallowed, he shuddered and prayed he wasn't showing through his pants, now wasn't the best time, especially with how you reacted. You sighed as the last drop fell into your mouth and rushed through your veins, you finally let the glass fall from your grasp and land with a small thud on the carpet. Your fingers came together in front of you, interlacing as you twiddled your thumbs, eyelids fluttering as you collected your thoughts, one deep breath and you looked at him.

"I don't understand. You like me, but you have been acting like you hate me, why do that?"

Gwil didn't answer right away, he fidgeted, hands still in his pockets, his vision now turning to eye the golden lamp on the bedside table. In this light, you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the deepest blue, like a calm ocean, like a pair of warm sapphires, you found yourself not looking away. 

"I didn't mean to be that way, I was just afraid." He said, still not looking at you.

"Why afraid?"

"Of rejection. Of you already being taken. I didn't want to admit anything if I had no chance with you." He confessed, raising one hand out of his pocket to massage his neck, your eyes locked to his fingers, wondering what they'd feel like around your ne- Cut it out! You banished your dirty thought and continued the talk.

"The worst I could say is no, and I'd mean it without any offense. And I'm not taken, I think you'd know if I was."

"That's the thing, I thought you were!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" You peered at him. He sighed and scratched his beard, stubble littering his cheeks and chin, and right then, another X-rated thought entered your brain, You wonder what that would feel like between your legs...will it tickle? Itch? Arouse you? You think you wanted to know.

"Because you and Ben, and I...didn't want to get in the way"

You and Ben? You gave him a perplexed look as you tried to work out what your friend had got to do with any of this. Ben was really a great guy, you enjoyed his company, years of friendship had blossomed between him and you, and you loved being able to see him when he wasn't busy with his star-studded career, but there wasn't anything there to insinuate something more was happening between you two. 

Then it hit you.

"You thought that Ben...and me...that we...? Oh god no we're just friends!"

You bit back a giggle. Ben was easy on the eyes, anyone could see that, even Joe said it, multiple times, many conversation he'd told you, "That fucker's stupidly gorgeous isn't he?" but he was not your type. He was more like a brother to you than anything else. Sure there was the occasional kiss on the cheek, hugs a little longer than usual, his arm around your waist or ruffling your hair when you told a stupid joke, but friends did that, they could do that without having feelings for each other. Gwil almost lost his balance after what you said, Just friends...Just friends...

"Are you sure? I mean he's the pretty boy."

"Okay he's pretty but he is like family to me, I wouldn't hit that even if I was piss drunk." 

Your mouth curled at the corners, as did his and both of you shared  a small laugh. Your eyes fell upon the empty wine glass on the floor, teeth tugging at your lower lip; you could see Gwil's body shift a little closer, one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before you, chests almost touching. His fingers stroked your jaw, moving underneath your chin to bring your gaze up to his face. He looked...intense but still had a softness behind his eyes, something sweet and hesitant but at the same time, you could feel he wanted to continue the kiss he gave only minutes ago.

"So...no Ben?"

You rested your hand on his wrist, giving him a smile as your eyes went from his to his lips, mouth watering at the memory of them on yours.

"No Ben."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

"Gwil..."

His name was like chocolate on your tongue, as his tongue worked over and against your slick folds. One hand in his hair and the other curled behind your head, back arching with every hum he made against you, his mouth was insane, you hadn't felt such pleasure in god knows how long; he really knew what he was doing.  And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did, smiling as he pressed kisses to your swollen clit, groaning with each flick and lick, with each tug you made on his hair, and that mixed with the feeling of his stubble rubbing your inner thighs and right above your mound as he angled his lips in the most delightful of ways. 

You were getting closer, you could almost taste it, feel it....but he stopped and raised his face from between your legs, his arms still wrapped around your flushed thighs. His mouth was wet, his hair in disarray and his eyes dilated; he looked fucking hot, but right now, you wanted to scream at him for stopping it right when you were about to finish. He could see you were almost angry at how suddenly he pulled away from your heat, he stroked the curve of your left breast as he began to lay down next to you, his free hand resting over his mouth.

"Come sit here."

It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant, your breath got caught in your throat, slowly blinking at him in surprise.

"Are you...are you sure?"

"Yes, you're so beautiful, I'd love nothing more than for you to ride my tongue."

You certainly did not expect something so foul to come out of his mouth but fuck you loved it. A smile grew on your face as you sat up, as he brought his hands to your hips just as you were about to face the headboard, he pushed you in the other direction a tad.

"Sit the other way, baby."

Your cheeks became hot and you were almost embarrassed at how flustered a simple petname made you. You gasped as you got into position, his nose right there against you and in your line of eyesight was his sweaty body, his happy trail disappearing into his jeans, and through those, a bulge was unmistakable.

You'd made him hard and you hadn't done anything but kiss him, you giggled at the reality of it, the embarrassment fading into smugness. Gwil moved his hands over your thighs, giving one of them a slap and you yelped in shock.

"What are you laughing about, huh?"

You bit your lip as you answered.

"You're hard."

"O'course I fucking am. Eating you out did that to me, hell you make me hard just by looking at me." He murmured on you, and before you could say anything, his tongue was back on you, licking back and forth, covering the length of your heat, he didn't leave one spot untouched by his tongue. Moans flew out of your mouth, sweat beading on your skin as he switched between his lips and his tongue, going so far as to telling you to bounce, and doing that was one hell of an experience. You leaned forward and raised your hips so you could move more, his tongue stuck out flat so you could feel it inside you, warming you up, stretching you out, he really cared about making you feel good and giving you the best feeling before you reached your high.

Your hands latched onto the belt around his jeans, curled over his body, grinding over his mouth, his facial hair once again giving you that cherry on top, his growls of hunger and delight pushing you over the edge. One palm slapped your ass cheeks, his name flowing from your lips again.

"Cum for me, cum on my face, sweet girl."

And you did just that, body shaking as you rode out your orgasm on his face, his lips never detaching from your clit, intending to make you have the most explosive high, and it sure felt like that. Your toes and fingers were on fire, your heart shot through the roof and you had trouble catching your breath as he lapped you up, "Mm you taste so good", another slap to your ass, chuckling against your heat, nose bumping on your clit, making you whimper a little given how sensitive you were. You slowly sat up and ran a hand through your damp hair, laughing through deep breathes.

"Fuck, you're amazing at that."

"Thought I wouldn't be?" You could feel his smirk beneath you.

"No no, just...wow."

Gwil smirked wider and gave your clit one last kiss, your eyes back on the even-harder bulge in his jeans. He'd just made you feel incredible. You wanted to do the same to him. So instead of moving from your position, you simply leaned down over his toned chest and started unbuckling his belt.

"Oh I see someone's hungry too." He laughed, hands resting on your red ass. Something came over you, the sexual side of you suddenly arose and within seconds, his belt was off and you were pulling his jeans down. He gave you some help by lifting his hips, you pushed them down to his knees and now you could see how hard he actually was, almost bursting to be released from the prison of his boxers. You didn't want to keep him waiting, you giggled and tucked your fingers into them, and pushed them down to join his jeans, more giggles spilling out when you got the first proper look at his cock.

The tip was pink, precum already forming, he was thick, very girthy, bigger than you thought but still you weren't that surprised. You slipped your fingers around him and gripped him and he hissed, his breath hot on your cunt. You smiled to yourself and pumped him a few times, relishing how warm and hard he was in your hand, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the veins, satisfied with your work, you puckered your lips and wrapped them around the head of his cock, and the noise he made was so fucking sexy, the sweetest groan and the hottest whine.

"Holy shit..."

You concentrated on where you sucked and moved your mouth, your hand tight around the base of his shaft. From previous experiences, you knew lubricant of any kind worked a treat, so you took a moment to pull your lips off and spit over the head, gently rubbing wetness all over his length; that got him considering the deep moans he was making right against your clit. Feeling his mouth so close to you while you sucked him off made you powerful, like you had him in your corner, it was your turn to give him pleasure and in his hand, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. 

When his eyes were open, they were on your cunt, fucking you with his vision, his hands moving from your ass to your hips to your upper thighs, gripping your skin as his own hips started to move with your mouth and before long, Gwil was fucking your mouth. You choked and whimpered around his cock, delicious sounds from his perspective, leaving marks on your ass from how hard he was holding you.

"Your mouth's so warm and tight fuck baby I-"

His words encouraged you to do more, fingers away from his cock and moving to his balls, you grabbed one and he let out a cry of delight, jerking his hips up faster until your eyes started to water; it burned but it was a good burn, making Gwil feel this way made you feel good, pleasing him made you feel good. As you squeezed his balls, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, neck craned all the way back over the pillow, his toes curling over the end of the bed. Your own thighs started to shake and your throat tightened around him, and he lost his hand.

"Just like that, yeah."

And with your mouth around him and your fingers gripping his balls, he finished, quicker than you thought; it wasn't even three minutes and you tasted hot thickness, his cum, him. You gagged a little as you removed your lips softly like sucking a lollipop, strings of your saliva dripping from his cock. You gasped and swallowed; you never spat out, it was a rule you gave yourself, what a waste it would be to spit, especially after sucking Gwil off, and speaking of him, his breath was heavy and fast, chest puffing in and out as he came down from his high, eyes glittering and a cheesy grin on his face.

"You're amazing at that."

All you could do was giggle and say, "I know."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

He was buried deep inside your walls, stretching out every inch and corner of you, the strokes of his cock were heavenly, easily hitting your g-spot over and over again. Your legs were wrapped high around his waist, ankles crossed over, nails digging into his back and dragging down his spine, one of his hands gripping the headboard and the other on your thigh, keeping you in place as he fucked you raw.

"Gwil, Gwil...please.." 

"Please what? What do you want?" He grunted between thrusts. Tears burned your lids as your hips smashed with his, lips inches away from his, his warm breath setting your face alight.

"Please...I want to cum, I want us to cum together..."

"Oh fuck.."

The way he moved got harder, faster, more aggressive to the point where your legs were turning into jelly and all you could feel was his stiff cock, you could not even get a proper sentence out anymore, if you did, it was laced with high whines. As his body meshed with your own, your eyes glanced at his arm, where his hand held onto the headboard with so much force you wondered why it hadn't broken. You felt yourself melt into the bed at the sight of his bicep, skin wrapped thin around the muscles, a sheen of sweat coating over his arm, more sweat on his forehead and at the back of his neck, face dipping close to your jaw, the air humid between the two of you.

"I'm gonna cum, shit- but I'm not wear-"

"I'm..on the p-p-pill, cum in me, Gwil." You gripped at him, pulling his chest closer, clenching your cunt around him, desperate for him to finish. The "fucking hell" told you he was only seconds away and sure enough, you felt it, you felt his orgasm, how his cock pulsated inside you, even better inside you than in your mouth and you followed barely a minute after when he was still riding out his high, your back off the bed and your legs trembling around him, harsh scratches left deep in his back because of you. 

Gwil collapsed on top of you, your fingers finding their way into his sweaty hair, as he slowly pulled out of you, the remnants of what you'd just did together dripping down your thigh, something he found extremely attractive. He attached his lips to yours in a passionate sweet kiss, as if you two hadn't just fucked each other's brains out, smiling as he broke the kiss and pressed another to your nose.

"Didn't think this would happen coming here tonight." He guffawed, rolling off you to get comfortable beside you. Like second nature, you curled up into him, your arm draped over his chest and his over your shoulders, sheets askew down to his waist as well as yours; to the both of you, cuddling after sex was as special as the act of sex itself.

"Neither did I...but I like that it happened." You smiled up at him. His fingers stroked your hair, his lips against the top of your head.

"Yeah? Me too."

You and Gwil stayed there, having cuddle time and striking up a conversation about what this meant for your relationship; you liked him and he liked you but for right now, it was agreed upon that the sex was great and that's what it would be, unless deeper feelings crept in. Time was lost, you felt safe with him, his hand in your hair as you traced patterns on his skin, but as much as you loved having this, you knew you couldn't stay here all night.

"We should get back. Everyone will be wondering where we are." You sat up and gathered the sheets up to your chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Gwil joined you and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're right about that, let's go, love." He said, and just as he was about to get out of the bed, there was a knock at the door followed by a very familiar American accent.

"I don't know what's happening in there but if you two are done defiling MY guest bedroom, you'd better come out and watch Ben do Jell-O shots off me." 

You burst out laughing and your head fell into Gwil's neck at Joe's statement, he chuckled along with you and sighed deeply, eyebrows raised; he didn't want to leave this room either, not with having you in the bed, gloriously naked and beautiful. But still, the two of you had to rejoin the party. He kissed your temple and rubbed your shoulder as giggles slipped through your lips, he couldn't help but smile even wider at the sound of your laughter.

"Well well we can't miss that, can we?"

taglist: @rhapsodyrecs​ / @bens-jawline​ / @itsametaphorgwil​ / @queen-paladin​ / @joeneslee​ / @almightygwil​ / @deacyblues​ / @zyanmaik​ / @hermajestyborhap​ / @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ / @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​ / @grigorlee​ / @captvinswaan​ / @taliaphobia​ / @gwil-lee​ / @hannafuckingsucks​ / @benders-diamond-earring​ / @supersonicfreddie​

[fanficflaneuse]

Life in Black - The Pilot

Index 

Episode 1: The Pilot 

A/N: GIF is not mine, I found it on Giphy. I hope you like this experiment. It is a mixture of narration and scriptwriting. 

Words: 2341 

Summary: Bellatrix decides she wants to live with her younger sister and her brother-in-law. 

Opening Sequence 

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy sat in front of each other. Just like every morning, they took breakfast in the porch, overlooking the gardens. Narcissa insisted it reminded her of her homeland and Lucius knew better than to challenge her. He indulged her instead. He read The Daily Prophet as she drank her tea.

Narcissa was in the middle of a story about the preparations for the Paris Wizarding Fashion Week, when they were shaken by a loud bang from the house. The couple ran inside, wands out and faces full of concern. The elves ran frantically to the living room. As they approached, Narcissa relaxed and Lucius tensed even more.

“Bella!” said Narcissa, approaching her eldest sister and giving her a hug. Lucius took a deep breath, bracing himself up for whatever was coming; Bellatrix and him were barely on speaking terms.

“About time you came to greet me, sister” she answered.

“We weren’t expecting you,” mentioned Lucius.

“Do you hear something, Cissy?” said Bellatrix, pretending her brother-in-law wasn’t in the room.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here, Bella? I thought you and Rodolphus had moved back to Paris?”

“Don’t even mention him to me. We’re getting a divorce,” she said casually, not a hint of sorrow or melancholy in her voice.

Both Lucius and Narcissa eyed her warily. “I am so sorry, sister,” said Narcissa after a moment of awkward silence.

“Oh, don’t be. It was doomed from the beginning.”

“That’s what happens when you marry for convenience,” Narcissa said, shaking her head at the memory of Bellatrix’s rushed, loveless marriage.

“If the other option was to end with a slob like your husband, then no thank you.”

“Excuse you?” he said, outraged.

(NARCISSA MALFOY) TALKING HEAD.

(Narcissa sits on a very elegant armchair. The room is full of paintings and photographs staring at her. In the back of the room, above a marble chimney, there’s a very big portrait in which Lucius and Narcissa stand on either side of a teenager. He resembles Lucius and smiles awkwardly.)

“My sister...she’s truly something. I can’t really put it into words,” she says, politely smiling at the camera.  

(Lucius comes into focus. He’s sitting on another armchair).

“She’s crazy,” he adds, deadly serious. Narcissa frowned at him.

(Bellatrix comes into focus, half sitting on Narcissa’s chair arm).

“Excuse you?” she exclaims, mimicking his previous outburst.

[Back to scene]

Lucius and Bella bickered for a while. Even the elves stuffed their ears with cotton balls so they didn’t have to hear them. Narcissa grew bored a few minutes into their petty drama; it was always the same with them. This time, though, the fact that Bellatrix had decided to move in with them without even asking made their usual passive aggressiveness less passive and more aggressive.

After Lucius stormed off and Bellatrix chose to establish herself in the closest room to theirs, Narcissa decided to call the big guns (also known as her sister Andromeda). She knew her sisters didn’t have a good relationship, but she was also sure she couldn’t deal Bella full time on her own.

(BELLATRIX LESTRANGE) TALKING HEAD.

(Bellatrix sits cross-legged on a champagne coloured divan. It’s placed in front of a big window that oversees the Malfoy gardens. As she talks, a flock of albino peacocks runs in the background).

“My relationship with Andromeda? Oh, it’s nonexistence. Since she married that mudbl- oh right, everyone’s offended by everything nowadays. So, the pc term is muggleborn, right? Well, ever since she married that muggleborn and had a half blood spawn of the devil I decided I just have one sister. She also married an absolute tosser, but at least he brought a pure last name to the table.”

[Back to scene]

Andromeda appeared a few hours later, ready to see her sister for the first time since she got engaged. The two estranged sisters bared a very close resemblance. They were both tall women with curly hair, big, blue eyes, long eyelashes, thin lips and sharp jaw. Anyhow, as they sat by either side of Narcissa, she thought there couldn’t be in the world two more different people. Andromeda’s soft, brown curls in a fancy updo complemented her face and made her look younger. Her eyes were full of kindness and patience. Their older sister, on the other hand, had a thick, raven hair, which looked as though she had hardly combed it. It made her come across as a patient of St. Mungo’s fourth floor.

The sisters sipped tea stiffly and avoided eye contact. Narcissa decided that the feud needed to end, for her own mental wellbeing.

“Andy, Bella is now living with us here,” she said.

“What?” Andromeda now looked at her older sister, trying to the decipher the mask of indifference Bellatrix had always worn.

“Go ahead, laugh all you want,” said Bellatrix, a sardonic smile on her face.

Andromeda was left speechless for a few seconds. Narcissa could see her sister’s mind working and tried to amend Bella’s words.

“She meant -”

“Do you really think I’m so heartless, Bellatrix?”

“Well, you did change your beloved family for a dick,” she shot.

(NARCISSA MALFOY) TALKING HEAD

“I really can’t blame Andy.”

She has a knowing smile as she says this.

(Lucius comes into focus).

He smirks and nods.

[Back to scene]

“Well, Bella, at least I was transparent with my intentions. What were yours exactly? Have a pure and most noble last name and a bit on the side? We’ve all heard about that one, even Cissy, even if she pretends not to.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Andromeda.”

“Tom Riddle. Does it ring a bell? Toujours pur and all that crap only to end your marriage for a fling with none other than an ex - convict,” she spat.

“You’ll drown in your self righteousness, dear. How bored you must be with that husband of yours and all our stupid social norms.”

“You’re talking to me about social norms? You burned my face out of the family’s tapestry when I got engaged to Ted.”

“It was just a game and Cissy fixed it.”

“Just a game? For whom? An arsonist?”

“Your insufferable! Always thinking you’re the better sister, the prettier sister, the perfect sister.”

“I am the prettier sister,” said Narcissa flatly; she had already grown bored of Bella bickering with everyone.

“I never said that!”

“You thought about it! I know you did. You think I’m unbalanced. You think I should be in an insane asylum or something, but I’ll tell you what, I’m smarter than you are. Wait till I fix my hair and climb out of the pit of desperation I’m in and I’ll even be prettier than you are.”

“It’s not a competition, Bella,” reminded Narcissa, “although if it was none of you would stand a chance against me.”

As always, the older sisters ignored the youngest one and concentrated on outsmarting one another. A loud bang came from the other end of the room. Narcissa, cigarette in one hand and lighter in the other, turned her head to see her cousin, Sirius and his husband, Remus. She shot them an almost pleading look as they took seats by her side as Andy and Bella had long since discarded their place.

“Cissa, toss me the light,” he said, lying back on the couch.

“No, no, darling. This is bad for your health,” she answered as she put the cigarette between her lips.  

Sirius raised a brow. “You taught me how to smoke,” he remarked.

As she refused again and he was about to give her some new argument, Remus put his hand on his spouse’s thigh. “Remember your new year’s resolutions,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Sirius groaned.

“What brings you two here. It’s been a while,” said Narcissa.

“Andy told us you invited her and we wanted to make sure Bellatrix didn’t rip her head off,” shrugged Remus.

(ANDROMEDA TONKS) TALKING HEAD

(Andromeda sits on a grey, L shaped couch. Her living room is small and cozy. It looks exceptionally clean. She’s surrounded by plants. Behind her, there’s a big shelf full of frayed books).

“Rip my head off? What, because I’m the only one of the Blacks who wouldn’t be diagnosed as a loony then I’d let Bella walk all over me? No, sir. I showed them right then and there I could also roast someone.”

She looks pleased with herself, but her smile falters a few seconds later.

“Is roast a real term? Did I used it correctly?”

[Back to scene]

Lucius had also joined the others in the drawing room. He cheered on Andromeda every time she said something particularly witty to Bellatrix.

“You go, ‘Meda!” he said after she remarked how everyone breathed a little more peacefully after she moved out.

Andromeda looked at him straight in the eye. “I know you’re my brother in law, but we’re not there yet, honey.”

“I hate her,” he said pointing at Bellatrix, “isn’t that enough?”

The three sisters looked at him, eyebrows elegantly raised.

“Whatever you say now will determine your faith, Lucius,” taunted Sirius.

“I’m also married to her,” Lucius continued, this time pointing at Narcissa, “so you should consider yourself lucky she didn’t run off and have a baby with a convicted felon.”

Remus snorted obnoxiously.

(NARCISSA MALFOY) TALKING HEAD

“I couldn’t smoke while I was pregnant with Draco. Hardest nine months of my life,” she says with a grimace, “it was all worth it, though. I’m living the dream. I mean, who doesn’t want to be in charge of a fifteen years old boy who only babbles about one of his classmates?”

She doesn’t look very convinced.

[Back to scene]

Sirius had joined in the roasting now. Bellatrix had mentioned something about her not being invited to his wedding with Remus. He, in turn, spilling the family tea all over the living room’s floor.

“I never really cared that you were a twi-”

“Tais toi!” screeched Narcissa, not wanting her sister to literally taunt their cousin once again for his sexual orientation. Bella knew exactly who else in the family she was mocking and Narcissa was having absolutely none of that.

DISSOLVE TO: the whole family sitting like scolded kids. Narcissa furiously pacing in front of them.

“This ends here!” she announced, “I’m tired of the Blacks being the absolute worst family in the history of families.”

“What is she saying?” Remus whispered to Sirius while Narcissa kept rambling.

“Shhh,” Sirius mumbled back, “I can barely understand. Somehow her accent keeps getting thicker and thicker.”

“Sirius,” she said. Her cousin perked up at the mention of his name. “When was the last time you saw Nymphadora?”

“Uhh, yesterday?”

“What?!” she exclaimed, “so you see each other regularly?”

“We go to work together.”

“You work?” she asked, even more surprised than before.

“I own a bar,” he shrugged, not surprised that his cousin didn’t know of his whereabouts.

“Of course you do,” interjected Bellatrix, “and what does dearest Nymphadora do?”

“She’s an auror,” Andromeda answered, not allowing any biting remark to come from her sister’s malicious lips.

Narcissa looked at Andromeda curiously. She tried her best to be close with both her sisters and yet somehow she didn’t know know Nymphadora was an auror. In her mind, for some reason, her metamorphmagus niece was still in Hogwarts.  

“She sees Lucius at the Ministry all the time. Just last week she told me they chatted on the elevator,” said Sirius.  

Narcissa shot his husband an accusing look.

“I’ve seen her a couple of times, but I never thought she worked there. I just assumed she roamed the building for...reasons.”

Andy facepalmed as Bella cackled.

“Alright, well those days are over.”

“What days?” asked Remus, afraid to know the answer.

“The days of us not knowing what each other are up to. Auntie Walburga died three years ago,” she said. Andromeda patted Sirius’ back when he frowned at the mention of his satirical mother. “She was the last one of our parents’ generation. It is our chance to start anew, to accept each other. So, it’s decided. We’re having dinner tonight.”

The rest of the family joined in a collective whine, but accepted. Everyone knew better than to mess with Narcissa once she was set on something.

A few hours later, the elves placed all sorts of delicacies at the table. Draco was granted permission to apparate from the school back home, arriving as the rest of the family took their sits. He frowned as he sat by his aunt Bella’s side, who only talked about how he looked like his good for nothing father. He sent a pitiful look at his cousin Nymphadora, who smiled amusedly at him as she tried to start a conversation with Regulus. Sirius and Ted were already talking like old friends and Remus and Lucius shared a laugh at Professor Snape’s expense. Andromeda looked satisfied. Narcissa, at the head of the table, eyed her family proudly.

“Levitate the potatoes my way, please Nymphadora?” said Draco. He wasn’t particularly close with his cousin, but he knew she hated the name.

“Don’t. Call. Me. Nymphadora!” she said as she pushed the potatoes a bit too harshly towards him. Her changed from purple to a shade of red.

“I like you already,” said Bella.

“That’s a very bad sign,” muttered Remus.

(LUCIUS MALFOY) TALKING HEAD.

(Lucius sits on the same elegant armchair as before. He has his legs crossed and the attitude of a dandy).

“Life is full of changes. Some big, some small. I learned a long time ago you can fight it or try to make the best of it. And that's all a lot easier if you've got people who love you to help you face whatever life throws at you,” he says, an affectionate smile on his face.

He then frowns worriedly. “I just hope my house doesn’t become the designated place of gathering. My peacocks couldn’t take it.”

Roll Credits 

[smolbeandrabbles]

How Deep Is Your Love - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

GIF CREDIT: X 

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #mendotagsquad.

Danny + 91 -  “Tell me you need me.” Requested by Anon 💙

Author’s Note: Danny is the final posted as tradition states! Here we are, 16/16! It’s taken a significantly shorter period of time than last year and would have taken even shorter if I’d have just posted them one after the other.  So, your request “He needs some reassurance after a day with his family.” might have been calling for some sweetness and angst... I accidentally gave you spice instead... Ooops... 😬😬😬

I hope it’s still enjoyable - and even more I hope this last one was worth the wait!

Disclaimer: Bloodline characters not mine / gif not mine (credit as appropriate) / lyrics not mine.

Premise: After another particularly hard day with his family, Danny is in need of a little R&R. However, his idea and yours might not be exactly the same...

Words: 3896

Warnings: Sexual Pre-Amble / Sexual Connotations / Dirty Dancing / Swearing

____

I want you to breathe me Let me be your air Let me roam your body freely No inhibition, no fear Open up my eyes and Tell me who I am Let me in on all your secrets No inhibition, no sin How deep is your love? Is it like the ocean? What devotion? Are you? How deep is your love? Is it like nirvana? Hit me harder, again How deep is your love? Is it like the ocean? Pull me closer, again So tell me how deep is your love, can it go deeper?

---

Danny didn’t look particularly happy as he closed his room door on the day. That might also have been understatement of the year, aside from the fact that Danny never looked particularly cheerful when he was in the Keys – not really. Maybe he’d smile and feign joy, but you’d been together a long time – you knew him better than that. You were only meant to be down here for a couple of days, and it was the first time you’d driven down from Miami since he’d decided to settle back here and get his life back in order, but the second you saw him you knew you’d be staying far longer. If there was one thing you hated it was to see Danny unhappy – he had enough of that as it was, without someone making him upset. You already knew that being around his family was always hard for him, although usually he got to come back to Miami for respite. Now he was with them 24/7, and you weren’t sure that you could stand for it. And he was working late too; you also weren’t sure that was fair on him, but then Danny would only argue that he needed the money. For Nolan, Danny would do anything - he’d already proven that. You’d been sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed for a little while, watching the sun sink below the horizon line and waiting for him to return to you – tonight, dinner in hand. “How was work?” You didn’t dare ask how he was; that was fairly obvious. “Yeah.” He blew out a breath and joined you, “It’s a job.” You reached out and took his hand in yours, “Danny,” but your sentence faltered, because you could think of nothing good to say, and didn’t want to start an argument about his family right now. He nodded gently, completely getting it and slipped his hand from yours to touch your cheek, “Thank you.” “For what?” “Being here.” He gave a heavy shrug, “Hell, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” “Nor me you…” Your voice was quiet, and you kissed his wrist, and then his palm before you let him go. You ate dinner in relative silence, but he did spend a little bit of time here and there updating you on his day, before Danny asked you about yours. You hadn’t done a lot, having seen him off – with more kisses than you could handle – early this morning with the wish of a good day. How you’d pulled him close and held him there in front of them all. You’d already seen the way the Rayburn’s looked at you like you were too good for him, that was before he’d come here – back when Danny was doing well for himself. It was even more important to you now that they understand just how much you cared for him - about the fact that you were his and you weren’t about to leave. You’d then subsequently spent some time on the beach and gone shopping in town. You loved the Keys islands, the little towns with quaint shopping districts. It was by no means quiet, full of spring breakers – who appeared to be frequenting a ton of venues that had all day parties going on, possibly all week. You raised your eyebrow; it’d been way too long since you’d done something like that – but you did like occupying dancefloors – and at least a little part of you wished to get back on one. But really your day hadn’t been that interesting. “Your cooking is – as ever, incredible!” Finally there was a smile at the compliment. “Thank you. You’re far to kind.” “Are you kidding? This is so good!” “It’s good comfort food, yeah!” You finished your plate and leant across to kiss him – lips grazed to his gently, soft and sweet – Danny set his food to one side and pulled you to him. You knew then how much he needed this, “Danny…” “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything…” But you felt like you did, you could only imagine what he’d been through today. “Baby tell me. Please tell me.” You whispered the words softly against his skin between kisses, and eventually Danny gave in and told you about his day. “--And yeah, well…You know my family…” You couldn’t help your frustrated sigh, and – considering you called it like you saw it – your exclamation of “Fuck your family!” You weren’t in a good mood, despite high spirits, just because of the situation – his depiction of what was going on here just made you more livid. And more importantly, you realised it wasn’t helping him – you leapt from the bed and tugged his hand. “What?” Danny tilted his head – wanting nothing more right now than to cuddle up in bed with you. “Come on.” “What?! Where?” “I want to get you out of this fucking house!” “Well, where are we gonna go darlin’!?” But Danny wasn’t so reluctant, and curiosity got the better of him to rise from where he was sitting and allow you to pull him from the room – you kept your hand in his and tugged him down the stairs and outside, all the way to his truck. You pressed your back against it, and he pinned you there; wonder still in his blue eyes as he traced them from your eyes to your lips and back. You bit your lip gently in invitation for him to taste you again, and Danny did so. “You’ll see, when we get there…” *** You figured you were smiling by the time you got to the end of the drive; Danny already with his arm and head out of the window, enjoying the cooling night air as the breeze swept in from the ocean. You liked driving his truck too – that was just a nice bonus right now. Neither of you were really dressed for where you were taking him, but you honestly weren’t sure you cared. It was what you were going to do there that was important. First you had to scope out a good one, and seen as you’d been observing them all day, you knew which you were going to pick – backing out onto the shore line with pretty strings of coloured lights and an outdoor dancefloor on decked levels. Strangely sophisticated for spring break dive bars – and you’d been to your fair share of them. Not that the clientele were wearing anything sophisticated; in fact, when you pulled into the parking lot it looked like most of them were coming off the beach – bikini tops and short shorts. You looked down at yourself; huh! maybe you’d scratch that, you were dressed perfectly. Perhaps you were a little more covered than a fair few. Turning back to Danny, he was surveying the scenery with curious interest, a bemused sort of smile on his face. “You’re about to tell me we’ve arrived aren’t ya?” “Mmhmmm.” You leant across to kiss his cheek, before hopping out of the car, “Come on babe! Let’s go!” “Oh geeez.” He slid from his seat, still starring at the hordes of already drunk twenty-somethings (and probably teens with their plethora of fake IDs) dragging their friends towards your location of choice. Danny slipped his hand into yours as you walked, “A bar? A dance bar? On spring break? With no cash?” You rolled your eyes at his tone; “Shut it! I’ve got money and it’s totally NOT about the drinking!” He raised an eyebrow and looked to you; “With a bunch of ‘breakers half our age-!?” “Excuse you-! Half your age maybe!!” That made him cackle; “Already, yeah, that’s probably true…” Although as you pulled him towards the entrance, he already spotted those more around your age – maybe not his age. But still older. Not that he hadn’t kicked around with kids the age of most of the attendees before today – Danny would just rather not tell you that. Once in, you pulled him straight to the dancefloor; but Danny didn’t go unwillingly, gripping your hand a little tighter as you pulled him through the crowd. He wasn’t about to lose you – especially not to those he could already see turning their heads to your presence. That never surprised him, it happened in Miami enough, it was dead certain to happen down here. You were just shy (but still on the right side!) of a good age gap apart – and been together long enough now that it really didn’t matter. That of course wouldn’t stop others from thinking they were in with a shot. You had but one goal tonight; finding a good space and turning back to him – pulling him closer. Love on him; even if that meant getting kicked out of here for dancing a little too dirty. Heck Danny always deserved it, tonight he just needed it a little more. The track didn’t matter as long as you had the rhythm to the beat correct, although this was hardly about dancing. Keeping him close was barely a challenge either; it wasn’t like Danny didn’t want you all over him. Holding his body this close to yours, with his arms around you, the way you used the beat of the music to grind yourself smoothly against him in ways that caused Danny’s blue eyes to illuminate and that beautiful little smirk to appear on his face. Your attention was all his, and you didn’t take your eyes off him – the look you were giving Danny under no illusion as to how badly you wanted him – as if you’d die if he wasn’t here with you right now. You let his eyes leave yours as often as he wanted, catching those sneaky little glances he was throwing around the floor and bar area; and how that smirk, and his confidence would grow. Your goal was to make everyone else on this dancefloor jealous – hell, to make everyone that had shown up here tonight jealous; of either of you, you didn’t care. And when Danny’s eyes eventually fell back on yours, you couldn’t help but mirror his smirk. Oh, he was loving this – and you already thought that alone was lifting his spirit. If the dancing wasn’t a little dirty to begin with it only became more so. The heat between you was obvious; but you’d both always been that way around each other – tonight Danny was completely irresistible, you didn’t even have to over-act that. But he knew it; and as much as it being your aim, you knew you needed to keep that ego in check to make sure he didn’t do something dumb. Danny was partial to the occasional bar fight and drug misuse. You weren’t about to let it happen. Especially after a hard day with his family, he’d just spiral. When that happened you always feared you wouldn’t get him back. Still, this wasn’t the night to dwell on such things. And you took your mind back to the point – eyes leaving his own, look just short of shy, with an obviously seductive lip bite as you traced his body. You wanted to tease him. You wanted him to tease you – you wanted to wind each other up to that point of no return; insanity, where all you could think about was each other and nothing else in the world mattered. In your opinion, in times like this, nothing else did. You let your hands wander – running them over his chest and back; up under his unbuttoned overshirt but not quite grazing his skin until you got to his arms. The continual press of your body into his became increasingly needy – invitations for Danny to touch you wherever and however he wanted. He accepted your invitation with haste, hands tangled in your hair despite the endless string of teasing almost-kisses that never happened, down your back to trace the curvature of your spine, his other hand ghosting under your shirt, across your stomach and ribs (which you couldn’t help but groan in anticipation at), until he was simultaneously cupping both your breast and your ass. Your eyes fluttered closed, as his fingers worked their way under your bikini and you sighed again. A gorgeous one at that, which had Danny chuckling. Usually you’d have slapped him for even daring to get this frisky with you – especially in public – but tonight not one complaint would pass your lips. In fact, tonight it just made you grind harder against him and continue those little sighs into his ear. “You like that, darlin?” “Yes…” Your voice was blissful, “Danny, yes…” “That’s my girl…” By now his voice was lust filled and husky, and enough to drive you wild. There was just something about when he talked to you like that… You moved your hands down to his hips, swaying your body to the control of his. He was intoxicating; you were under his spell. It was like Danny was a drug, the best hit you’d ever get but he just kept giving you more, and you wanted everyone on this beach to know it. With those gorgeously blissful little whiney sighs and moans in his ear, Danny was on his own kind of high. Every thought from earlier today long gone at hearing you at this point of near ecstasy. The contact was so close – you were nearly one, but you wanted more – it wasn’t enough to just feel him against you like this, in the middle of a dancefloor with an energy like this. Where every other couple out here were maybe several years younger than you, but still wanted the same thing. You were pretty sure everyone out here was looking to take someone home – or a hotel room – tonight. But they weren’t nearly as caught up in each other as you were; not just because you’d been together a while, but because they were all taken by you both too. Pushing one of your legs between Danny’s allowed you to further tangle your bodies. He had a little bit of height on you, his body was bent anyway – and although he was regarding you with curiosity Danny was still smirking. You moved yourself up his body; a trail of ghosted kisses – lips barely millimetres from his skin, with the occasional brush against it, if at all. You could taste sweat and sea salt, and you could breathe him in. All you wanted to do was breathe him. He might act like he’d complain at these, but you could hear those little sighs you were enticing through him – and the groans that tried to keep themselves in his chest. By the time you were back to his lips you were gently grinding up on his thigh. Danny Rayburn wasn’t about to stop you either – removing his hand from your shirt (eliciting another desperate whine) he ran it teasingly to join his other at your ass, grasping you to him – the friction between you heightened as he deliberately increased the pressure. You didn’t care – if it was going to be sex on the dancefloor, then Danny could damn well take you now; this was tame compared to what you could be doing to him. And your mind was racing. Your sighs were no longer gentle and your body vibrated against Danny’s as you continued to ride his thigh – hands shooting up to loop around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Perhaps it made you look needy and desperate for him. You had, just like Danny, caught those gawking at you opened mouthed and those quite obviously jealous, and offered them nothing more than a smirk of your own. Hell yeah they should be jealous; of you for getting to hold a man like this in your arms. Despite the way you were portraying yourself however, it didn’t stop you from being the tease you usually were. Danny could run his hands all over you, wherever the hell he damn well wanted, but you weren’t letting his lips touch yours. Oh, you would let him try to kiss you, and every almost kiss you gave him resulted in an equal and opposite reaction. You weren’t allowed to place your lips to his. Danny chased you, and in the same way you’d ghosted his skin, he traced your shoulders and up to your jawline, hand in your hair to aid in exposing the column of your neck to him. Then the kisses were real, harsh, and his teeth grazed over your throat to pull a louder groan from you. This, more than any other night, was the perfect one to be in tune with each other’s bodies. The absence of his lips on yours was making you both whine though: that strange begging for more, and yet denying your partner everything. It wouldn’t be long until you let him take you over completely and all you’d be able to taste was him – your every sense would be dominated by Danny Rayburn. And you ached for that moment; as if he wasn’t already guiding your hips as you continued to grind up against him. It felt so good; because it just was? Because it was a little sinful? Because it was so public? You weren’t sure – perhaps even a little of all of that. The dig of his nails into your hips and the next movement caused friction that had you gasping a little too loud, followed by a moan and shudder that could only mean one thing. Danny immediately chuckled – he knew exactly what he was doing to you, he barely needed that vocalisation, but it was good affirmation. He kissed your neck again before tracing his lips to your ear. “That’s my good girl…” “Danny-” Your voice was breathy, arms locked a little tighter around his neck, very nearly clinging to him now, “Danny… baby…” “Baby girl…” He kissed your jawline again, and then finally held you to him as he kissed you. It was a fierce kiss and your hands couldn’t scrabble for enough of his shirt. You wanted it off; you wanted him to push your shorts down and take you right here, right now – you wanted the world to know that you were his. And Danny deserved nothing less than such a public display of affection. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the swell of your own against his hungry kisses. How erratic the push of your hips into his leg were – but how out of rhythm your body suddenly became, void of all thought but his lips on yours. About where else on your body you may want them… Releasing you from his string of hot kisses, Danny pulled you flush to him. Enjoying your warm shaky breaths against his ear as he held you close in his arms, kissing the shell of your own ear. “Tell me you need me.” It was a shiver inducing growl, and he followed it up with a nip to your ear lobe, before repeating it slower. Voice lust laced. “I need you…” You sighed, eyes fluttering closed, wrapping him tight in your embrace, feeling as much of his body against yours as was possible; “Danny, I need you.” You sounded so desperate for him; you were and you wanted to. He loved it, and you could feel that within him. Exactly what he craved to hear. Despite what Danny was saying, the way he was saying it, and the way you were telling him what he wanted, there was an underlying reason for both. His unspoken uncertainly and insecurity; that only his family could cause, and you would blame them for for the rest of your life. Danny needed to know that at least SOMEONE out there needed him. Even if it was just one person – but he was glad more than anything that that person was you. And Danny knew you meant it, no matter whether you were sighing it against his ear in breathless ecstasy, or you were taking his hands and saying it with a sunshine smile as clear as day, you meant every word and you always would. Because you really DID need him. You loved him. There was no way you could live without him. It wasn’t ‘tell me you need me to fuck you’ but ‘tell me you need me, because no one else does’.

*** Eventually even being lorded with so much attention, neither you nor Danny could take the sexual energy currently running through both of you. It was do something about it here – and maybe get charged with public indecency – or go somewhere else. It was dirty dancing sure; but you were both one small step away from touching each other in places you really shouldn’t be. Danny moved away first, curiosity in his eyes as he tipped his head; smile a little lopsided, maybe even a little innocent. Not that you should believe that for a second. You smiled back with an encouraging nod, before pressing your lips to his. He brought you a little closer again; lips leaving yours to favour your jawline and cheek, before kissing your ear – signature smirk back in place. Danny stepped back, taking your hands in his, and he pulled you from the dancefloor. You held his hand tight as Danny pulled you through the crowd – seemingly everyone swivelled with you to watch you leave, and for the first time you felt like you were getting away with him.  You finally got to be the one to steal him away, even though he was leading you. He kept you close as you headed towards his truck, both knowing that it probably wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. You were tangled together before Danny had you pushed up against it again, and this time you let him take what he wanted; you couldn’t get enough of him. Every gentle needy sigh against his lips, those you let escape into the night air as he pushed your shorts from your hips and laid you back in his truck bed. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his trail of kisses ran lower on your body to match the wander of his hands – before he desperately came back to your lips again. Danny was certainly not going to waste the opportunity to kiss you now you weren’t going to tease him. But there was no haste, this wasn’t a quick fix no matter how long it might actually be allowed to last. You unbuttoned his slacks, winding your legs around his. ”Danny…” You whispered it; your breathing heavy – heart on overdrive. All that ran through you was unbridled joy and you pulled him closer, catching him safely back in your arms. His hands held you to him, as close as Danny could get until you were one once more. Neither of you need say a word; you could feel his heart beat in the exact same way as yours. All that mattered was him, all that had ever mattered to you was him. You smiled gently, and realised you were crying; tears of nothing but pure happiness. And you bit your lips together despite the cries of elation you wished to release. They could hold on, for just a moment longer. This was more important. ”I need you… I’ve always needed you.”

---

All 16 done! Thank you everyone for being a part of this years request month! Time for me to start thinking about what I might ask for next May... Holiday fics will also probably happen again this year in December! 😁

[omgrachwrites]

Family - Charlie Weasley

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: You never thought that you would belong in any family, that was until you realised that sometimes, you could choose your own family.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Words: 1470

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!

A/N: I am so not consistent with my length of chapters! There will only be a couple more parts of this, I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged.

< previous part                        next part >

Part Four

It had been a couple of months since you had had that awkward, disappointing conversation with Charlie Weasley in the Gryffindor changing room. Unfortunately, you remembered that conversation almost perfectly, he had invited you to Hogsmeade and you thought that he was asking you out. He wasn’t. Things had been okay between you – if awkward could be defined as ‘okay’ – though Charlie had been acting weird lately.

Over the past couple of months, you had been hanging out with him and his group of friends who welcomed you with open arms despite who you were you imagined that Charlie had told them all to be nice. Among this group of friends you discovered that you had a cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, a spunky Hufflepuff who preferred to go by her surname and she spent most of her time in detention.

For all of your life, you had thought that your mother only had one sister; she had never told you about Tonks’ mum, Andromeda who had apparently disgraced the family just because she married a Muggle. There was one downside to hanging out with Charlie, however, what had started out as a small crush had evolved into a huge one.

You winced as you took a sip of the extra sweet Butterbeer that Tonks had just placed in front of you, “don’t you like it?” Tonks pouted and you giggled.

“It’s just a bit too sweet for me. So, where’s Charlie? It’s not like him to miss out on both Zonkos and Honeydukes.”

Tonks grinned and ran a hand through her pastel blue hair that was the third hair colour she’d had that morning, “he’s getting things organised for the party tonight.”

You frowned at your cousin; you hadn’t heard anything about a party, “what party?”

Tonks’ eyes widened slightly, “I’m sorry, I thought you knew, every year since 5th year Charlie throws a party in the Room of Requirement so that people from other houses can attend,” there was a brief silence, “I thought that he invited you.”

“No,” you whispered, feeling a pang in your chest, you thought that it was sweet of Charlie to throw a party where everybody could attend but it hurt that he hadn’t seen fit to invite you. You weren’t sure whether he had feelings for you but above all, you thought that you were friends.

“Well, I’m inviting you, it’s gonna be rubbish if you’re not there,” Tonks said softly as she reached across the table and took your hand. You grinned at her gratefully; she was definitely your favourite.

About ten minutes later, Charlie came walking in, ruffling his hair, cherry blossom petals falling from it as he did so. You forced out a weak smile as he threw himself down at the table. Instead of being a mature adult about this predicament you looked at the handsome boy, “what time is the party tonight Charlie?”

At your question, he glared over at Tonks who immediately ducked her head with a sly smile, “it starts at 7pm but really Y/N, I don’t think it will be your scene.”

“Don’t be silly,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, “I’ll be there,” you weren’t sad anymore, you were just pissed off. You had no idea why he was acting like this.

At about ten to seven, you paced in front of the Room of Requirement a couple of times with your eyes shut tight, opening them when you heard a pop, you smiled as you walked through the door. Tonks immediately greeted you with a hug, causing you to giggle as you were knocked slightly off balance.

“You look so beautiful, Y/N,” Tonks grinned as she slid her fingers through the ends of your soft hair.

“Thank you so much, you look great too!” you gestured at her punk rock shirt and held out the cake tin, “I made a cake, I modified an old family recipe, it’s not as bitter,” you laughed.

Tonks’ eyes lit up with delight as she took the cake from you, “I’ll go and find the host, thank you so much for making it Y/N, you didn’t have to.”

“No wait,” you quickly stopped her before she could find Charlie, “it’s um actually for you, after all it was you who invited me here in the first place,” you stammered and Tonks gave you a dimpled smile.

You had to hand it to Charlie – you had managed to avoid him, it was hard because he just looked so good – he knew how to throw a party. There were so many people that you’d never spoken to before and it was so interesting to talk to them. Mostly, you had ended up talking to an adorable Gryffindor named Ben Copper who was a scaredy cat at first but he evolved into a chatter box when he realised that you weren’t going to bully him.

A couple of hours into the party, Tonks suggested a game of truth or dare, “okay,” Tonks hummed and looked at Charlie, “truth or dare dragon-boy?”

Charlie scoffed, leaning back on one hand, “dare, obviously.”

Tonks’ face lit up with a cheeky smirk and she glanced over at you before looking back at Charlie, you narrowed your eyes, wondering what she was up to, “I dare you to kiss, Y/N.”

You glared at Tonks as your whole body went warm and you glanced nervously over at Charlie. He was already gazing at you with those gorgeous moss green eyes of his; he licked his bottom lip and leaned closer to you with an unreadable expression on his face as he cupped your jaw. He got so close to you that you could smell his musky aftershave and you saw that he had some brown in his eyes.

Charlie hesitated and you gulped as you stared at his lips, you just wanted him to kiss you. It wasn’t just because you had a crush on him, it was because of the silence that fell over the party, you didn’t want it to get awkward.

He finally sighed and pulled away from you, “I can’t, I’m sorry,” your eyes filled up with tears and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

Tonks spoke up to quell the awkward silence, “you know the penalty for a failed dare, Weasley,” she shook her head and poured him a shot of Firewhisky. Charlie proceeded to take it, pulling a face at the strong hot taste, “Y/N, have some cauldron cakes,” your cousin smiled at you as she offered you the plate.

You shook your head quickly, “excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite,” you mumbled, almost running out of the party.

“Y/N, wait!” Charlie called out, at the sound of his voice you walked quicker, tears falling from your eyes, “please, slow down!” he panted.

You spun around and fixed him in place with a furious stare, causing the tall boy to falter, “look, you don’t have feelings for me. I get it,” you had to accept it no matter how much it hurt, “but how awful must you find me? It’s a stupid game, was it really that hard to just pucker up and kiss me?”

Charlie’s eyes darkened as he strode towards you and kissed you. His lips were so warm and soft that you longed to kiss him back but you were still angry at him, “what the hell Charlie?!” you yelled and pushed him away.

“Uh-oh, you only call me Charlie when you’re really angry with me,” he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing when you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, you weren’t letting him off without an explanation, “I like you okay!” he said and although your heart was relieved you were still angry, “you’re just so beautiful and kind, and smart.”

You blushed at his words, your hard eyes softening as you cupped his cheek, “why is it such a bad thing that you like me?”

Charlie groaned, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked deep into your eyes, “because I feel selfish. What if you regret it? Because of your family.”

You giggled, you had to admit, you understood where he was coming from, he looked offended as you laughed at him, “and what if I don’t regret it Charlie? Nobody can know the future, not really. I like you too,” you smiled and kissed him softly, sighing when you felt him melt into your kiss, “you’re an idiot Weasley.”

“I know,” he chuckled, kissing you again.

The both of you went back to the party after about half an hour and you were greeted warmly by everybody. This was your true family, a family where nobody was judged by their sexual orientation, gender identity or blood status. You belonged here and you always would.

------------------------------------

@meteora-fc​

[jungshookz]

*kicks open door* kiNDERGARTEN TEACHER!TAEHYUNG THAT HAS A FAT CRUSH ON THE HOT SINGLE MOM HE SEES WHEN SHE COMES TO PICK UP HER CUTEASS KID

→ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

→ genre: kindergartenteacher!taeHYUNG aka THE FLUFFIEST FLUFF like i don’t think i’ve ever felt so SOFT in my entire life great googly moogly please prepare yourselves 

→ wordcount: 3.3k

(gif isn’t mine!)

“shit shit shit shIt shit” you curse to yourself as you vEEr right into the first parking spot you see

you immediately crank the brake and unbuckle your seatbelt

“i was going to park there, asshole!” you hop out of the car to see an angry looking mother glaring at you from her minivan and you give her a sheepish smile

“i’m sorry!!!! my kid just got off from class and i can’t be late because i need to drive her to ballet and-“ you’re definitely oversharing with this stranger and she obviously doesn’t care because she rolls her eyes and flips you off before zoOming off to find another parking spot

soccer moms are so aggressive

you double check that you have everything with you and you fish your parent lanyard out of your backpack and sling it around your neck quickly as you approach the front doors

you thought that once you became a mother you would instantly become more responsible more organised more matuRe

obviously you were mistAken because you’re still late to almost everything you go to

some things never change!!!!

you hurry your way down the hallway and pick up the pace when you see the swarm of parents standing outside the classroom

as you approach the crowd you get up on your tip-toes to see if emma’s been excused yet

you accidentally bump into a couple and a bit of your coffee splashes onto their shoulders and they turn around and give you a dirty look

“oh, sorry!!!! ….fridays, am i right?” you joke and they both scowl before shuffling to stand somewhere else

oof

tough crowd

none of the parents here like u that much

which is a real shame because you think you make greAt company

you’re just,.,, there’s a big age gap between u and most of the parents here

you’re one of the younger parents in the class

actually you might be the youngest

min yoongi and his wife (you forgot her name whoOps) are pretty young but they’re still a couple years older than you

and side note their daughter is adoraBle

emma is actually friends with hwayoung so you talk to yoongi sometimes

it’s nice to talk to someone who’s around your age

he’s just veRy businessman-y so it’s difficult to joke around with him

but he’s still a nice guy!!

speaking of yoongi and hwayoung

a bright smile makes its way onto your face when you see yoongi nudging hwayoung through the crowd of people before grabbing onto her small hand

“yoongi!” yoongi looks up and he smiles politely

he’s still dressed all spic and span in his suit from work

“ah! good afternoon, y/n. hwayoung, say good afternoon to auntie.” he hums before bending down to zip up her backpack that’s just wiDe open

relatable

“good afternoon, auntie!!” she looks up at you with bright eyes

she’s sO CuTE

“hi, hwayoung-ie!” you bend down and pinch her cheek before reaching into the pocket of your coat and fishing out a little caramel “don’t tell your dad,” you joke and yoongi snorts in response

“thank u!!!!!” she snaTches it immediately and you coo before pinching her cheek again

you get back up onto your feet “you guys on your way home now?”

“mhm. is emma still available for a playdate this sunday?” yoongi swoops hwayoung off her feet and props her up onto his hip and she immediately rests her head against his shoulder

“affirmative, sir.” you salute and yoongi rolls his eyes playfully “i-“

“emma y/l/n?” you perk up when you hear emma’s name being called

“yeah, we’ll see you sunday! have a nice night!” you turn to squeeze your way into the crowd and once you make your way to the front your heart immediately starts going boom-boom because

it’s taehyung

emma’s teacher

kim taehyung is uh

whOo

putting it simply he is a very attractive man and he’s only a couple months older than you so like you’re preTTY sure this is god’s way of telling you it’s meant to be

the only time you’ve really talk to him is during the parent-teacher conference and even theN you can barely get a word in because emma’s a little chatterbox (one time she almost let it slip that ‘mommy dressed extra pretty for you!’ and you were literally about to pounce on your child in the middle of a classroom)

he’s really sweet n nice and when he smiles that boxY grin you can’t help but smile aNd he’s endearingly dorky and super charming aND funny and he’s so good with the kids and OH my god his voice is like..,., silky smooth dark chocolate.,,.,. rich caramel.,, that u want to driZZLE all over your BODY

okay no R-rated thoughts when there are children present don’t be weird

since he’s your kid’s teacher so you’re not sure if that’s even allowed

the whole parents dating teachers thing

anyways

he looks so soft today

he’s wearing a crisp button up with a pair of jeans

he obviously let the kids mess with his hair because he has a little sproUT in his hair

and you’re pretty sure you have a glasses kink because you’ve never felt this way when seeing someone with their glasses sitting on the top of their head

“hi, yeah, that’s me- i mean, that’s not me, but that’s my child- you know what i mean” you blow a strand of hair away from your face before adjusting your backpack with a sheepish grin

woW what the hell was that lol  

taehyung presses his lips together to keep himself from bursting into chuckles

you’re so awkward sometimes but he supposes that’s just part of your charm

he wants to tell you you look real cute in your periwinkle sweater

and it’s endearing how the laces on your converse shoes are undone

no doubt from your frantic running down the hallway (he notices everything)

but of course he has to keep it professional because you are the parent of one of his students it doesn’t matTer that you’re the same age as him and that he’s very very very veRY attracted to you

“hi miss y/l/n.” taehyung smiles kindly before ticking next to your name on the clipboard “emma’ll be ready in a minute! we did finger-painting today so the kids are taking a little longer to wash up. how was your day?” he suddenly remembers the little ponYTAIL in his hair and he yanks the hair tie off quickly

“oh, y’know, the usual. i don’t know why i thought it’d be a good idea to keep studying after four whole years of studying.” you snort before pulling your own hair tie from your ponytail and letting your hair down

“i admire that! education is important.” taehyung hums

your hair looks so soft

it probably smells good too

o god he’s being creepy stop being creepy

“i suppose you’re right. what else happened…uh… had a really good caramel macchiato and a mediocre turkey sandwich for lunch-“  

“mommy!” you snap out of your little trance when emma suddenly ziPs out of the classroom

her little backpack bounces against her back

“hi baby!” you grin and swoOp down to scoop her up into your arms

you smoosh kisses against her chubby cheek while she giggles away before you plop her back down onto the ground

it takes everything within taehyung not to mELT into the ground because even tho he sees you do that basically every day it never fails to turn him into a pile of mush IT’S SO CUTE

“we finger-painted today!” she cheers and holds her paper up for you to look at

“yeah, mr kim was just telling me-“

“that’s me, n that’s you, n that’s mr. kim!” she grins and points to the third figure in the painting and almost immediately bOTH yours and tae’s faces go bright red

you think you might actually be on fire right now (even tho this isn’t the first time this has hAPPENeD) ((ur referring to the time the class made play-doh people and emma made one of you and one of tae and the play-doh versions of you two are holding hands))

“oh! that’s, heh, uh, that’s nice! that’s so good, you did a good job, baby” you clear your throat and your eyes flicker over to taehyung

he tilts his head and offers you a meek smile

“will you put it up on the fridge when we go home?” she asks as you tuck it into her backpack for her before ziPping her bag up

“mhm…” you get back up onto your feet and dust your knees off “say g’bye to mr. kim”

“bye mr. kim!” emma turns around and hugs his legs

her face is like on the same level as his knees so he’s basically kneeing her and are u an awful mother if you kinda laughed at that

“goodbye, sweetheart!” he replies with the same level of enthusiasm as he gets down onto his knees so that he can give her a proper hug and she gives him a sweet lil kiss on the cheek “have a nice weekend, hm?” his eyes flicker up to you and you feel your heart skip a beat 

emma pulls away from him and skips over to you 

“oh, and don’t forget to tie your laces, emma.” taehyung hums as he gets back up onto his feet 

you look down because you remember putting emma in slip-on converse this morning not- 

“he means you, mama.” emma not-so-subtly whispers and you look down at your undone laces before looking back up at taehyung who’s looking very amused at the moment 

there it is again 

that fuzzy feeling in your stuPid heart 

u know what you have to get over it because it’s never going to happen 

you’re an adult 

you can get over it fine 

you’ll be finE 

this is just a silly little crush

“how do you feel about spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner?” you clutch emma’s little hand in yours as you guys make your way down the empty hallway

“yummy! with extra cheese?”

“it wouldn’t be as yummy without the extra cheese… but we obviously have to go to our usual place to get a hot chocolate first…” you’re rambling on and on about hot chocolate but emma isn’t really paying attention

because she has concocted a sneaky plan in that tiny brain of hers

she knows you like mr. kim

and she’s positive mr. kim likes you back

you always get so red around him

and he always gets so red around you

and red is the colour of love

which means that you must love mr. kim and mr. kim must love you

and she’s been trying her hardest to try and get you guys to hold hands or touch butts or whatever it is grown-ups do to prove they love each other

but each time she does something she’s never successful!!!

she tried to tell mr. kim about you dressing extra pretty for him but you smacked a hand over her mouth before she could get it out

she made a play-doh mommy and a play-doh mr. kim and presented them proudly to you and mr. kim and the both of you just laUGHED in hER FACE

do you people think she’s just a SIMPLE F O O L

and she has to admit the painting of you and her and mr. kim is probably one of her weaker moves but it’s better than nothing

and u know what

she just wants you to be happy

because she loves you a lot

and you’re a good mommy

and good mommies deserve to be happy

SO

this next part is all part of her evil plan and she’s positive that this time something will happen

all of her peers (including herself) have their own cubbies in the classroom

emma purposely left her snack box in there so that you’d have a reason to go back

AND she left a little note in there for you and (hopefully) mr. kim to read

emma is your child after all

meaning she’s a very verY clever girl

she just has to wait for the right time.,.,.

and the right time is noW

“mommy, my snack box is still in the classroom!!” emma stops in her tracks and you nod before pointing to the direction of the classroom

“go ahead, go get it”

“but i need to pee.” she squeezes her legs together and makes a face of discomfort “you need to get the snack box, mommy”

“i-“ you look back at the closed door of the classroom “mommy can wait for you to finish peeing and then you can go-“

“no, no, you need to go get it i need to pEE” the next thing you know she’s spRInting towards the washroom and you’re left standing in the middle of the hallway with question marks floating around your head

what in the hickory ham is going on

“gO GET MY SNACK BOX MOMMY” you hear her voice echo from the washroom

“alRIght alright” you snort before turning and heading back to the classroom

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so nervous

you’re retrieving your daughter’s snack box from her super attractive teacher that you definitely have a crush on there’s nothing to be nervous about

hi tae! emma left the ol’ snack box up in here!

whaddup mr. kim! mind if i just pOP right in??

yo Yo yOOoo have u seen a purple box anywhere?? because it belongs to emma and i need it

o god

all of these options are terrible

you need more time to rehearse your lines-

you’re about to reach up to knock on the door when suddenly it swiNgs right open and you stumble back in surprise

“oh shit!” taehyung reaches out and grabs onto your waist before you can fall flat on your aSS and you let out a squeak

in the midst of your almost-fall you’d grabbed onto his bicep and now.,.., he has an arm…, wrapped around your waist.,., while you have one hand on his bicep and one hand curled around the nape of his neck.,,,..,.,

the two of you snap out of your respective trances when you hear a door open down the hallway and you immediately leT GO of each other

also tae was right ur hair does smell really nice

“hi. sorry about that! i was on my way to the washroom and i didn’t know you were outside…” he clears his throat and prays to god he’s not as red as a tomato right now

“no, no! it was my bad, i’m sorry.” you reach up and scratch the back of your neck “i, uh, emma said she left her snack box in here.” you breathe out

“oh, uh, come in! i’ll help you search for it. it’s probably in her cubby. she’s always leaving things in there.” taehyung falls back into his ‘mr. kim’ persona as he leads you towards the cubbies in the back “let’s see… emma… here~” he bends down and you follow suit

oh my go d he even smells good is this aLLOWed

you perk up when you spot emma’s box

“hey, you’re right! here it is-“ you reach in and grab the box but you’re surprise when you notice the piece of paper stuck to the back of it

it’s an A4 piece of paper with a little card stuck to it and a note written in crayon on it

you recognise the card

it’s the business card of that little cafe you take emma to every friday after school

the one that you’re supposed to take her to right noW

‘mommy’s faveriate drink is karomal makkiatoe and mr. kim’s faverieote drink is hot chalklate’

“huh.” both you and tae are kinda just staring at the note

the gears are click-click-clicking away in both your guys’ heads

and then it hits the both of you at the same time

oh.

oh.

taehyung isn’t typically a ballsy guy but like

he’s feeling vEry brave all of a sudden

“can i take you out sometime?” he blurts out and your eyes widen in surprise

oh

well

you certainly weren’t expecting that

the both of you get back up onto your feet and you tuck emma’s box into your backpack

your cheeks flare up and you let out a little chuckle before scratching the back of your neck “i… uh…”

“i mean, don’t feel pressured to say yes just because i’m emma’s teacher!” taehyung stammers “i just, y’know, i don’t want to overstep here but i think you’re a very beautiful woman and-“

“i would love to.” you clear your throat and take your bottom lip in between your teeth “yeah, i would love to. actually, uh- emma and i, we usually go to this cafe every friday - if you’re free right now, maybe you can come and join us?” you rub your slighTLy damp hands on the back of your jeans and taehyung immediately lightS up and nods quickly

“i would love that. yeah, just… just gimme a second to clean up real quick! i’ll meet you and emma outside?”

“great! yeah, totally. she’s just.. she’s peeing right now so i should probably go check and see that she hasn’t flushed herself down the toilet or anything” you joke as you make your way towards the door and tae splits off to head to his desk “i’ll see you outside!”

you shut the door behind you and you have to quickly press yourself against the wall and you nearly bite your bottom lip off to keep yourself from screaming

your heart is going a million miles an hour and there are butterflies just having a raVE in your stomach

as soon as you leave the room taehyung pumps a fiST into the air in victory because Y E S  HE DID IT

“did you find my box?” emma’s sitting outside the washroom as you approach her and you raise a brow before nodding

“mhm.” she gets up and grabs onto your hand before looking back at the classroom door

huh

did her plan not work

she knows she’s not supposed to say bad words but what the h*ck

she really thought her plan would work!!!!

“mr. kim’s joining us for hot chocolate today, by the way. hope you don’t mind.”  you add casually and a cheshire-cat grin takes over emma’s face

the whole time you and emma and tae are at the cafe emma can’t help but feel proud of herself

you and mr. kim are sitting very vEry close to each other in your booth chatting away while she sits opposite of you two quietly nibbling at a scone and taking small sips of her hot chocolate

S U C C E S S has never tasted so good

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