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1d1195 · 2 months ago

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HOV

~8k words

From me: a one-shot

Warnings: enemies to lovers (because WHY NOT), panicked Harry, car accident, hospital visit, etc.

Summary: Two environmentally friendly people carpool to work and almost kill each other every day. Harry brakes too much. She lets people go when it's not their turn. She gets crumbs all over her car. Harry listens to really boring podcasts. Harry thinks she's beautiful even if she's annoying. She thinks Harry is unbelievably sexy even if his opinion of her music is rude.

It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment.

Every day he waited for her to get to his car he had to chant it to himself that it was worth it. “We’re not going to fight today,” he mumbled to himself as she left the apartment building. It was exactly one building next to his and so it made sense.

She looked really pretty. She always did. It was brutal on his psyche because he wanted to like her. He was desperate to like her, but she was just so... annoying. But her hair was half up in a clip, pieces spilled from it almost artfully. That was the only way he could describe her: art. Harry wasn’t sure if she wore makeup, he suspected she did but if he found out she was naturally that stunning he wouldn’t have been surprised either.

Her dress pants looked perfect on her legs, not quite painted on but close. Her bright blue button down was tucked in and complimented her complexion so well. She wore a pair of heels to complete her look which he knew she didn’t like doing so he was bracing for her complaints—she was much more of a flats person; but she felt she had to wear them to be taken seriously. She looked professional, beautiful, but approachable.

Harry took a deep breath trying to quell the frustration, anxiety, and adoration he had for her before she got in the car. We’re not going to fight today.

“Hi,” she greeted quietly.

“Hi,” he answered as she got settled. She put her coffee mug in the cup holder, her lunch bag and work bag went to the floor by her feet. Harry much preferred her weekend look, and he was sure she did too; sweatpants, a hoodie or T-shirt, sneakers or slippers was much more her style and she wore that just as beautifully as she did her professional outfit.

Jesus Christ it was going to be a long week. How was it only Monday?

“Do y’have a presentation today?” He asked as she finally settled herself into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, why?” Harry noted she was immediately distrustful and did his best to ignore it because he was trying, with everything in him, to be polite and kind. More than he usual.

“Y’look nice,” he shrugged.

“As in I don’t usually look nice?” She asked defensively. “Are you playing a trick on me? Is this a joke?”

That was short-lived. He sighed and looked at the ceiling for help like the answer to this complicated woman was going to be there, finally. “No, s’not a joke. Y’always look nice, love. But y’look extra nice today.”

“Oh,” she pouted, the pucker between her eyebrows making itself known. He was used to seeing it and he found it cute since she looked so serious and her face was just so sweet it almost didn't make sense for her to look so grumpy. But Harry knew better. “Thank you,” she murmured, surprise laced in her voice. “Sorry... I’m nervous,” she explained.

He frowned. “M’sure you’ll be fine.”

“Mm.”

They didn’t speak for several moments. Silence was a lot better for them. Less of a chance to argue with one another. “How was your weekend?” She asked. Small talk was typically safe. As long as there wasn’t a lot of details.

“Good, finished m’book,” but he didn’t offer what he read because he knew they didn’t share the same taste in book genres and she would probably wrinkle her cute little nose in distaste. “How was yours?”

“Fine, visited my friend,” but she didn’t say which one because he would just tell her how she was being used for her money and networking to get into nice restaurants. The silence continued for another few minutes. She scrolled on her phone then pulled her laptop out of her bag. There was about forty minutes until they reached their office so maybe she would go over her presentation.

Harry would have offered to listen to it, but from experience, she would argue every point of constructive criticism he had to offer—only because he had done the very same. In actuality, her presentation was probably perfect. There was no need for her to be nervous. But as she had explained many times over, she was a woman in a corporate office with a bunch of men who didn’t trust her. She had to work twice as hard to get things done her way.

The silence was interrupted by her stomach growling loud enough for Harry to hear it. He sighed and rolled his eyes like it was a major inconvenience for him. “What, Harry? What?” She grumbled.

“Why don’t y’jus’ eat before y’leave?”

“I told you, I’m nervous about my presentation today.”

“What’s your excuse for the other days?”

“Happy Monday,” she grumbled and put her head on the window. But of course, at that moment Harry stomped on the brake as he was wont to do. Meaning her head all but smacked off the glass. “Ow! For God’s sake, Harry! You don’t have to slam on the brakes!”

“I’m not,” she pulled the visor down to look in the mirror to inspect her forehead as if it was going to create a bruise instantly. “My God, you’re dramatic,” he muttered under his breath.

“You drive like a grandma,” she retorted.

“What, safely?!” He hissed through his teeth. He wanted to actually slam on the brakes. Her stomach growled again only further fueling his annoyance with her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled off the closest exit and headed for a nearby coffee shop so she could get a pastry or something for her.

“We don’t need to stop.”

“You need t’eat something. Sounds like y’trapped an animal in there.”

Her cheeks felt warm with his comparison. “That’s so fucking rude Harry.”

“I don’t care, y’need t’eat!”

“I’m not hungry. I’m nervous about my presentation.”

“S’gonna be a shitty presentation if y’stomach keeps growling over the sound of your voice.”

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and turned to look at the window. “I’m too nervous to eat; thank you for caring in your overbearing, aggressive way, but I won’t eat anything. I’ll eat a granola bar from my desk when we get to the office,” she explained.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head but returned to the highway after their tiny detour. “You’re sure?”

“Yup. Can’t eat in the car anyway and I don’t want to be any later than we already are.”

“Late,” his eyes were going to get stuck trying to look at the back of his brain. “You’re ridiculous.”

The spat simmered tensely in the silent air between them. They went a whole four minutes without arguing. That had to be a record, even for them.

The drive home was much less tense almost always. Usually, they were both too drained to speak to one another, so it made it a lot easier to tolerate the other person’s existence.

So, it was Harry’s fault that they argued again on the way home.

“How was your presentation?” He asked politely.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Jus’ fine?” He frowned. “Y’were all worked up ‘bout it this morning.”

“Yeah, because no one takes me seriously,” she snorted, but her laugh didn’t have a trace of real humor in it.

“Right, so it was just fine?”

“What are you looking for here Harry?” Her irritation was evident in her voice.

“I don’t know, a better adjective? Y’got through t’them? They hated it? Fine makes y’sound like a teen coming home from school.”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to table my idea for another day,” she sounded exhausted, and Harry was tired too, so in hindsight, he was willing to take the entire blame for the argument and subsequent tense ride home.

“How do y’feel ‘bout that?”

“What do you even care for, Harry? What’s with the interrogation?”

“Forget it,” he sighed. “I was jus’ making conversation. Y’didn’t even ask how my day was.”

“How was your day?” She snapped.

“Fine.”

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, and she inhaled deeply. “Don’t talk to me,” she grumbled.

“Fine by me.”

She drove every other day; it was their routine. It saved wear and tear on their cars and since her car was a hybrid, they really saved on gas and were doing their part to save the environment. If either of them had a car appointment or stayed home sick, then the other one would of course drive and they would pick up the following day, right where they left off.

When she drove, however, Harry was even grumpier, somehow. Though, it seemed impossible someone could be grumpier. But she made him leave an hour earlier than necessary. Harry was already awake and ready but he very much enjoyed a gradual wake up. He liked the time in the morning to do the daily NYT crossword puzzle and to meditate or workout before going to the office.

He did not like arguing an hour earlier than normal.

“It’s for the environment,” she mumbled to herself as Harry approached. He was otherworldly handsome. He looked like he should have been a model, not a financial wizard. His hair was perfectly messy, his eyes sparkled, and his entire frame was just meant to tempt her. In a suit (which he wore every weekday), he looked fan-fucking-tastic. Everything ironed crisply, his tie perfectly straight. He was sincerely hot—there was no other way to describe him.

But his weekend look? When she saw him out and about lounging in joggers and T-shirts that clung to every muscle in his torso? That was her favorite version of him. They usually ran into each other on nice weather days when they both wanted sunshine and air. Harry jogged a lot. She would read on the bench in front of her building. Sometimes they saw one another at the grocery store. But given they spent two hours every day in an enclosed area and argued for nearly the entire time, they were not spending any more of their weekend doing the same thing, so not much more than a polite hello was said between them.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he got in and settled his bag at his feet. Harry didn’t have a presentation to prep so he was planning on sleeping and meditating this morning with his head propped against the window.

“Morning,” she answered softly.

“Sleep okay?” He asked. “The rain and wind woke me a lot.”

“Same,” she agreed. “You’re going to try and sleep then?”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “S’that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It felt less tense today. We’re not going to argue, she thought to herself.

While Harry slept, she remained focused on the road. Her mind making a mental to do list for when she arrived at the office. She knew Harry hated getting there early, but her brain focused so much better without people constantly bothering her.

For a company that clearly had it out for a woman in finance, they sure did need her a whole lot.

She had music on low that she sang quietly along with while Harry slept. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything today.

Even with Harry sleeping most of the way, it had to be a record that they didn’t argue all the way until they were a mere five minutes from their building. Naturally, their getting along came to an abrupt end. A truck roared in front of her, cutting her off and merging with very little space between them so it could get to the next lane and off at the next turn. It made her gasp and slam on her brakes at the same time. Instinctively, she tossed her arm out to save Harry from whiplash, her arm pressed to the front of his body. “What the fuck!?” He shouted and jolted awake.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was—” She dropped her arm quickly and her hand went back to the steering wheel quickly, hiding the shake she felt in it.

“Were y’letting someone randomly go again?”

She had a penchant for being too polite on the road—it was Harry’s least favorite thing about her driving habits. “N-no—” her palms were sweating against the wheel, her heart pounding as she gripped at it tighter. She parked and felt a wave of frustration and worry fall over her. Even some embarrassment as Harry yelled at her.

She hated being cut off by another driver. It made her so nervous. She wasn’t a car person, but hers was her baby. She didn’t want anything to happen to it and if being a little extra nice and cautious on the road would keep it safe, then she would do it.

“S’more dangerous t’be polite,” he grumbled. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorr—”

“Jus’ another reason we should get here so fucking early,” he snapped. “Forget it,” he shook his head and got out of the car and headed into the building without looking at her again. Still shaking, she pouted, took a few calming breaths and composed herself before she followed Harry’s path to their office building.

On the ride home she stopped for coffee and kindly purchased Harry one as well without asking—but when he heard her order it at the drive-through, he felt the argument from the morning disappearing slowly from his mind. “Thanks,” he mumbled from beside her.

“You’re welcome,” she figured less would be more in talking to him—especially after their morning.

But it didn’t help that she let two people merge in front of her as they got on the highway—almost like she was still nervous from this morning. Harry sighed heavily, like he was personally inconvenienced by her kindness to other drivers. She ignored it and continued home. Harry watched as she bit into a powdered donut she got. He rolled his eyes.

“What?” She asked through a mouthful, the sugar floated all over herself and her gearshift. He shook his head.

“S’a messy donut.”

“It’s my car,” she pouted. It was hard to take her seriously when she had powdered sugar all over her mouth. She was pretty adorable with sugar all over her cheeks, though, Harry would give her that.

“If y’want t’trade y’car in, they like it to be clean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not getting rid of her ever.”

He just shook his head again. Some mornings she ate a breakfast sandwich and Harry watched the crumbs of her croissant rain on her outfit like confetti while she drove with one hand on the wheel. His car was pristine while hers was not. There were half empty water bottles in the back and random pieces of her “emergency” kit strewn about in the boot of her car in a way that Harry doubted would ever help if there was truly an emergency. There were blankets and reusable grocery bags all across the backseat—there was just no order. Which was so weird because she was one of the most organized people he knew.

“Y’know y’shouldn’t use plastic water bottles,” he rebuked as he caught sight of another one on the floor behind him.

She sighed. “I recycle them, Harry. Do you honestly think I don’t care about the environment when we carpool every day? Do you think that arguing with you for an hour and a half every day is because I hate the environment?”

“Forget it,” he sighed not wanting to argue. “How was your day?” He asked trying to recreate the tension free car ride that was present first thing this morning before they fought in the parking lot.

“It was okay,” she shrugged but immediately, Harry knew it was a lie. He quirked one eyebrow at her in disbelief and her unsure tone. With a bigger sigh, she relented. “I got yelled at for something that wasn’t my fault and then I didn't even get an apology when they realized it wasn’t.”

Harry frowned. “Did y’say something?”

“Did I try to hurt the male ego?" She shook her head with another eye roll. "Harry, I would never.”

He smirked and looked out the window. She was funny. Even if she was annoying. “Y’have no problem hurting my ego.”

“I hurt your ego?” She asked in surprise. He shrugged and nodded with a smirk still on his lips. That cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows pinched together and made itself known again. Harry once more was overcome by how adorable she was. He didn’t understand her question. Or why she cared. But he wished he had paid closer attention to her reaction because she suddenly looked so upset. “I didn’t know that,” her voice was soft. “I’m... I’m sorry, Harry,” and it really sounded like she was.

He blinked. “S’fine,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know y’don’t mean it.”

“I don’t, truly.” It felt really important that Harry knew that. Maybe it was her crummy day. Coworkers continued to not trust her nor believe she was capable of doing well, which made her feel worse. God why did she continue working where she wasn’t wanted? Where she wasn’t appreciated? She was still a little shaken from her almost accident and her uncanny ability to piss Harry off. She was suddenly very forlorn over the idea that she had hurt Harry in any way. “How...how was your day?” She asked tentatively her voice catching.

“It was good,” he nodded, but he was looking at her suspiciously and the sound of anxiety coating her words. “Ordinary... Nothing t’really report... Who yelled at you, by the way?”

“No one, it’s nothing,” she shook her head quickly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Then jus’ tell me, love. S’not a big deal.”

She sighed, irritated, dejected, and tired of arguing. “Do you know Jason?”

Harry scoffed. “He’s a prick and can’t add two plus two. Don’t let him get t’you. Sorry he yelled at you.”

It was one of the nicest things Harry had ever said on her behalf. “S’not your fault,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, but he shouldn’t. M’sure y’do everything perfectly. He’s probably jealous and stupid and everything else.”

“Thank you,” her voice was still soft. Her eyes felt misty at his kindness. Harry being nice on top of her shitty day was so overwhelming—too overwhelming.

Harry noticed right away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine,” she nodded, wiping at her cheek.

“Y’don’t look fine, love... Why don’t y’pull over? I don’t want you t’drive if you’re emotional. S’not safe.”

She sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m just being overly sensitive. Not a lot of sleep and... It just... it wasn’t a very good day,” she swiped her hand beneath her nose and wiped her below her eye again while her words got caught in her throat a few times as she spoke.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle. More gentle than it ever had been toward her. “Please, love... jus’ pull over,” he encouraged quietly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Love, please,” he pleaded. “S’okay t’be emotional.”

“No, it’s not,” she whimpered but pulled to the shoulder of the road at the same time as she heaved on a shaky breath. Cars whizzed past them and Harry watched her closely. “I work in a sea of testosterone, and I’m never appreciated, never respected, and I can’t be emotional,” she fanned her hand in front of her eyes trying to will the tears away. “Especially in front of you.”

“Me?” He pouted, anger took the forefront of his mind, but he had never seen her like this. He felt bad because she was so upset. So, he refrained from snapping back at her.

“You’ll just use it against me or save it for a rainy day to embarrass me.”

“Is that what you really think?” He tutted, his voice devoid of emotion.

She sniffled again. “Yeah... you yelled at me this morning... I didn’t mean to jostle you like that but someone cut me off and—”

She was still upset about that? That seemed like a lifetime ago. Yeah, Harry was irritated, but he felt bad she was holding onto something so small all day. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Her day must have been really shitty if she let one of their arguments take hold of her emotions all day long.

“Hey... hey don’t cry. M’sorry—I shouldn’t have—it doesn’t matter... But y’have t’know, I would never do that, love. M’sorry if I’ve made y’feel that way,” he soothingly rubbed her arm up and down. “S’okay,” he reassured her. “M’gonna drive the rest of the way home. Jus’ slide over for me, love, yeah?” He asked and before she could protest, he was getting out of the car and going to the driver’s side. Not that she really wanted to protest.

But she would have if they were in a parking lot or on a non-highway road. She tried the door handle but Harry shook his head as he approached the driver’s door and jutted his chin to the passenger seat again. Again, she might have argued, but she didn’t want Harry subjected to the busy traffic for any longer, so she awkwardly slid over the console as Harry stayed pressed to the side of the car.

One small piece of her brain realized the most handsome man she knew wasn't letting her get out on the traffic-side. It was a protective, chivalrous moment that made her stomach do a somersault.

Once in the passenger seat, she brushed the powdered sugar that was on the driver's side just before he sat and got powder all over her pants. “Why don’t y’nap or something?” He suggested quietly and pulled into traffic again without any other fanfare.

“Alright,” she sniffed. “Thanks, sorry again.”

“No problem, love,” he mumbled and drove the rest of the way home in silence. He hoped she felt a little better by the time he parked and gently shook her awake. He didn’t say much other than he would see her tomorrow and returned her keys to her. “Have a good night, love,” he murmured as he gathered his belongings and left before they could return to their natural instinct of arguing with one another.

After her mini meltdown she was really hopeful that they had turned a corner in their arguing. She couldn’t remember who started the first argument so long ago. When they realized they lived near one another and worked at the same place, it only made sense to carpool. But she didn’t know they would find fault in every little thing.

Harry was constantly late. (But he wasn’t. Not really. He was on time. Which may as well have been late in her book.) It made her insane. He braked too hard—just like the other day. His choice in podcasts was too real and scary at times (she couldn’t get on the true crime train). His favorite book genre was history, which was fine, but he often made fun of the lighter romance novels she liked. There was the no eating in the car rule. And of course, there was his constant backseat driving—it was never-ending.

It's for the environment. She reminded herself.

It was another long day. Her meetings didn’t go well. Her coworkers undervalued her worth and if wasn’t for the fact that her main supervisor gave her stunning reviews and the money was so good, she would have quit ages ago.

Harry was irritated, and she wasn’t sure why. She had cleaned her car over the weekend. She even had it detailed so it was as pretty as Harry’s car. All her blankets were neatly folded, water bottles recycled, and she organized the trunk. There was a new air freshener and everything.

And yet, Harry was still annoyed. He turned the fan off. Twice. She adjusted the settings, they hadn’t even left the parking garage, and he still turned it off. “S’hot.”

“It’s not hot,” she grumbled.

“It feels like m’sweating. Gonna have a heat stroke.”

“Well, I’m cold.”

“Of course you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It seemed Harry’s day wasn’t too good either as he was just as willing to argue and just as willing to stand his ground. While they argued they continued turning the temperature knob from one extreme to the other.

“You’re gonna break it!” She whined.

“You’re such a brat.”

Her neck snapped to face him. Her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. “A brat!?” Her voice was three octaves higher than normal. It felt like the car was shaking.

“Yes, a brat who throws a fit when y’don’t get your way. All the time. Y’want t’leave an hour earlier. Y’want t’eat in the car. Roll the windows down, no now up. Y’want t’listen t’your dumb radio station that is ninety-percent ads. You’re. A. Brat.”

She did slam on her brakes at his explanation. She pulled toward the sidewalk right outside their office building. “Get. Out.”

Harry stared in disbelief. “You’re joking,” he cackled.

“I’m tired of arguing. You’re such a dick to me all the time,” she smacked her hand on the steering wheel. “I had a bad day, and you clearly had a bad day and you can’t leave well enough alone! So yeah. The environment can spare two less people carpooling. Get out of my fucking car, Harry Styles before I run us both into a telephone pole.”

“You’re so judgmental and so ridiculous—”

“Get out!” She practically shrieked.

Harry glared, yanking his stuff from where it sat at his feet. He got out of the car, slamming her door hard. He wouldn’t be surprised if it got stuck shut or if the whole frame shook as he did so. She peeled off the curb leaving Harry to fume. They never fought like that. Almost all their arguments always ended in a quiet “good night” or “have a good day.” Never did she shove him out of the car.

He was simmering with anger. He paced a few steps on the sidewalk trying to calm himself to figure out what to do. Maybe he could call her back. An Uber was going to cost a small fortune to get back home. Worth it, he supposed. God, she drained the life out of him.

He was breathing heavily. Good riddance. It was a dumb idea trying to carpool with someone that made him infuriated. Incensed with the feeling of being right, he scrolled on his app for a new ride.

Before he could submit his request for the most expensive Uber in the history of the world, all anger left his body—floated away as if it wasn’t even there in the first place.

There was a screech of tires and a sickening crunch of metal. Harry looked up just in time to see her car do a full 360 before landing upside down in the middle of the intersection. Her car teetered back and forth as it balanced on the roof. His jaw went slack as he watched the car of the pretty girl he was just arguing with crunch in the middle of the roadway. He was practically ready to strangle her himself but he never wanted—

“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. Before he fully grasped his own movements he was sprinting into the middle of the roadway.

Without knowing what else to do, he knelt to the ground in a spray of plastic, metal, and glass, his face was almost pressed to the ground as he tried to peer into the only available space. “Baby? You with me?” He asked looking at the terrified, shaking girl. There was blood pouring from her hairline, her hands gripped the steering wheel around the deployed airbag like she was still driving.

“H-Harry?” She whispered. A switch flipped inside him. He wanted to rip the upside-down door off and yank her out. He wanted to hold her. All those annoying things she did, they didn’t bother him anymore. She was so pretty, so sweet, and so funny. The mere thought of her injured, terrified him and broke his heart. He didn't know he felt that way and he was mortified that it took this to realize it.

“M’here, love. M’here, you’re okay, just focus on me,” he was shaking as he dialed on his phone for the emergency line. “There’s been a car crash in the intersection outside of Prosperis Financial,” he said. “There’s at least one injured party.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I know. I know, my love. I know,” he cooed.

God how could he be so stupid? How could he get out of the car? How could he take so long to get out of the car? If they just didn’t fight, they would have been through the intersection and—

“Harry, my head hurts,” she interrupted his spiraling.

“I know, kitten, I know,” he repeated.

“A-and my leg hurts really bad,” she whispered a small break in her voice. She was shocked and in near tears.

“Don’t move your neck, baby,” he ordered.

“I’m scared,” she cried.

“I know, love, I know, m’scared too. But m’not going t'leave you for one second, baby, okay? You’re going t’be fine, everything’s going t’be fine,” he sounded pretty reassuring considering he was freaking out too.

“I didn’t—I didn't see it,” she sniffled.

“S’not your fault, kitten. S’okay. You’re okay, love. Just breathe, and keep talking, yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you...” she croaked, the anxiety in her voice broke his heart. He hated she felt she had to say it. “I don’t mean to, ever. I-I don’t know why—”

“Shh… we’re not talking ‘bout that. S’okay, my love. We’re okay,” he promised. She could argue whatever she wanted. Harry was in complete agreement. She was right. Every time. He did brake too hard. She wasn’t too nice to others on the road. She could eat in the car or have the heat on in the middle of the summer. Whatever she wanted.

“Okay... I'm sorry,” her voice sounded quiet.

“Help is coming, baby. M’not gonna leave your side, yeah? Jus’ hang on a little bit longer. I know—”

“I’m sorry I eat in your car sometimes,” she whispered her voice cracking more as she apologized for things that no longer mattered. “I’m sorry I’m a brat—”

“No, no, my love. You’re not a brat... shh...” he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her figure, clutching the wheel like she was scared to let go. His heart was aching to do something more, beating too loud in his ears. He wanted to keep her talking. Wanted to rip her out of the car and make sure she was alright. She could do whatever she wanted in his car for the rest of her life. As far as he was concerned, he would be driving her every day for the rest of time. She was never getting behind the wheel again. “S’okay, baby. Whatever makes y’happy.”

She sniffled. “Harry, I don’t feel very good,” she mumbled. “My head hurts.”

“I know it does, kitten,” his voice cracked hearing the exhaustion in her voice. “I’d trade with y’in a heartbeat,” he mumbled.

She sniveled. “I wanna get out.”

“I know, my love. M’trying. They’ll be here soon.”

“I’m scared,” her voice was soft again.

“Baby, I know,” he groaned. Where the fuck was the ambulance?!

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m glad you weren’t in the car,” she whispered. His heart shattered.

“M’not, kitten. M’not glad at all,” he shook his head.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” she warned and then her neck went limp.

“Baby?” Her hands slid from the steering wheel and her head lolled to the side. “Shit!” Harry reached through the broken glass, but the angle was too awkward, and he couldn’t see and reach at the same time. “Kitten, love,” his voice pitched an octave higher with hysteria quickly flooding him. “Baby? Open your eyes! Please,” he begged. “Kitten? Come on,” he muttered reaching blindly for her again. “Fuck,” he croaked.

“Excuse us, sir,” an EMT was finally at his side pushing Harry out of the way. He covered his mouth, sitting back on his heels as they pulled the car to its wheels once more. There was a flurry of movement as they pried through the metal and glass to get her. He choked on his breath as they removed her and he swallowed hard, his heart felt broken as they put a brace around her neck and lifted her onto a stretcher—still unconscious much to his horror. “Are you the boyfriend? Coming on the ambulance?” the paramedic asked.

“Yes,” he answered immediately and filed in behind them.

Harry called her mom and sister. They were on their way. He paced the waiting room with the biggest teddy bear the shop had to purchase while he waited for her surgery and tests to end. It felt endless. Harry thought he had aged ten years during the time he was there waiting.

He also got her a balloon—a heart shaped one that said get well soon. He got flowers. And chocolate too. Once he saw her pretty eyes open again and her family was present, he was going to get her a coffee and breakfast sandwich too.

His clothes were dirty from lying in the street, the knees of his slacks had the tiniest holes and rips. His cheek had a few cuts and scratches from pressing it to the ground while he spoke to her upside-down body.

“Are you the boyfriend?”

He shook the thoughts of seeing her bleeding, terrified body away from his mind at the sound of someone speaking to him.

It was hard to believe only yesterday he would have shuddered at the thought. “Yes,” he answered instantly, not caring in the slightest that he was lying for the second time in several hours about their relationship status. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” the doctor stated. Harry sighed with relief, dragged a hand through his hair and swallowed around the relieved tears that filled his eyes and cut off the voice in his throat. He coughed awkwardly.

“Can I see her?” He asked. “Please?”

“Yes, she’s just coming out of the anesthesia,” he explained and tilted his head toward the hallway. Harry grabbed all his presents for her and followed. “She’s a little out of it still,” he warned.

“But she’s okay?” He repeated like he didn't believe the doctor.

“Yes, she’s fine,” he knocked and opened the door.

“Oh, your boyfriend is here, miss,” an older nurse smiled at her as she fiddled with her pillows and the IV stand.

The sweet girl looked high as a kite, her eyes wide, the cut on her forehead stitched. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she frowned. That cute wrinkle between her brows appeared and Harry wanted nothing more than to smooth it away and ease the tension she felt.

“You might want to rethink that,” a woman smiled at Harry with a wink. “He’s very cute and he brought you gifts.”

“Hi, kitten, baby,” he cooed and crouched beside her bed.

“You’re my boyfriend?” She mumbled in surprise. Her eyes were so wide with the loopy medicine, and he smirked, tears filling his eyes again.

“Yes, my love,” he didn’t even feel like he was lying. To her nor to himself about their relationship. It made sense and he truly adored her so easily. He was grateful for the switch in his mind, he just wished a car accident wasn't the cause.

She smiled, self-satisfied. “I knew you liked me,” she mumbled.

He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. “Y’okay, baby?” He asked.

“They gave me medicine,” she explained holding up her arm that had three or four needles sticking in it.

“Easy, kitten,” he grabbed her outstretched arm and cupped her hand in both of his with a chuckle. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles as the nurse pulled a chair up beside her for Harry to sit in.

“Harry," she said suddenly. Like he wasn't listening to her or paying attention to every little movement. "I broke my leg,” she pouted.

“M’sorry, kitten,” he was livid she was injured but with pain meds she was so cute and adorable that he almost chuckled at the way she sighed and frowned about her situation.

She glanced at their interconnected hands. “Have we been dating long? I didn’t know I had a boyfriend. Do I have amnesia?”

He snickered, kissed her fingers again. “No,” he shook his head. “S’quite new.”

“Oh,” she blinked and a smile grew on her face. “I like that you’re my boyfriend,” she sighed dreamily. “Isn’t he hot?” She asked the nurse who was checking her vitals again. Harry rolled his eyes, smirking and looking away from her and the nurse at her appraisal. It was good to know she felt affected by his presence as well. He liked her loopy thoughts and he hoped they would remain true when the medicine wore off. “Did you call my mom?” She asked curiously.

He nodded, cleared his throat as he focused on more important facts and not worrying about their fake relationship status. “Yes, she’s on her way with your sister. I need t’call them, actually,” he pulled his phone out.

“How did you get their number?”

“I looked them up on social media,” he mumbled keeping hold of one hand as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Harry?” Her sister’s voice asked alertly.

“Hi Thea, she’s okay. M'sitting with her now. She’s loopy from the anesthesia but she’s awake.”

“Tell her to get me coffee,” she whispered loudly. Loud enough for her sister to hear through the phone. Harry smiled.

Thea sighed with relief and snickered. “Sounds like her,” she mumbled. “Thank you, Harry. We’re about twenty minutes out.”

“Of course,” he assured her. “You’ll tell your mum?” He asked.

“Yes, I got it.”

“See you soon.”

Harry placed his phone back in his pocket and watched her loopy mind work through something on her extremely expressive face. “Are you going to kiss me?” She giggled.

Harry laughed. “Later, baby.”

“When’s later?”

“When you’re a little coherent, m’love.”

She blew a breath through her lips making them sputter. “S’not fair.”

“I know,” the smile remained on his face knowing she was okay, and she wanted him to kiss her. It was a bit wild that the switch flipped so rapidly. This was someone he argued with for over two years every day and now he wanted to kiss her, hold her, and never let her go.

“Can I take a nap?” She yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

Harry turned to the nurse. “Can she? Does she have a concussion?”

“Shockingly, no concussion,” the nurse said reading the chart. “You can nap for a bit.”

She closed her eyes instantly. “Night Harry,” she sighed. “I love you.”

He felt his cheeks warm. Ignored her sweet words regardless of how much he would like them to be true. “Night, baby,” he chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead as she drifted to sleep without letting go of his hand.

When she woke up the next time she was staring at Harry in awe. “Thea, I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes. The anesthesia had worn off a bit and she didn’t seem to remember she said I love you nor that Harry claimed to be her boyfriend. While she was hesitant to believe that Harry was really there for her, she was glad he was. She was foggy on the details but there was no mistaking that she felt a pull toward him. Maybe it was the kindness he showed her.

“You live in a fourth-floor apartment. You’re not fine. And your car is trash.”

Harry sat quietly to the side of the room while her mom and sister doted on her. Her mom was on the phone with the insurance company taking notes and questioning a lot. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I don't have a choice, I have to figure it out,” she shrugged.

“Figure what out? You’re going to just stay in your apartment for the next six weeks? You’ll go insane. And what if there’s a fire?”

“The chances of me getting in a car wreck and have my apartment catch on fire is probably astronomically small.”

Harry chuckled from his spot, but the sisters ignored him. “You hate your job. Why don’t you just quit and move back home for a bit?

Back home? Harry thought. Not next door? That wouldn't work for Harry's already obsessed heart. “I have a spare bedroom,” Harry said in offering. “First floor apartment in m'building next t'hers,” he was speaking to Thea and not her.

She and Thea both turned to look at him. “I cannot—” She started.

“Really?” Thea interrupted. “You won’t mind? She’s going to need... a lot of help.”

“I can handle it,” he assured her. Thea knew they drove together. She was also well aware that her sister and Harry argued every day. There was no way Harry was going to survive taking care of her if they couldn’t spend more than five minutes in a car without arguing with one another. She watched Harry, bewildered by his kindness toward her. His willingness to take care of her and let her be a burden when he couldn’t stand her most days. “Are y’alright with that, love?”

It might have only been minutes between arguing and her accident, but the change of heart in herself over Harry was something to be admired. Harry was there almost before her airbag finished deploying. He kept her as calm as he could while they waited for the ambulance and promised her it would be okay. He reassured her that all their arguing didn’t mean anything and she softened. She felt herself melting for him. All the little things he did no longer bothered her. He really didn’t slam on the brakes. It was rude of her to want to eat in his car and make a mess. Perhaps it was too hot in her car and she was a little too mean about his favorite book genre.

Am I in love with Harry? She thought to herself. “If...if you’re sure... That’s an awful lot of time to spend with me,” she reminded him wondering if it was only her that was warmed by the near-death experience and she was imagining the knight-and-shining-armor-complex.

“Happy to,” he nodded and remained in his seat.

Harry was holding her hand when her sister and mom arrived, he gave her a gentle shake and called her kitten. Kitten your mum s’here. His voice was so warm and soothing. He didn’t remove his hand until she opened her eyes and his kind smile was a sweet greeting. He cupped her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw. M’gonna sit by the window while they visit, yeah?

“Do you ladies need anything?” He asked standing. “Coffee? Tea? Food?”

“All set, thank you Harry,” her mom smiled around the phone.

“I’m good too,” Thea nodded.

“Baby, all good?”

She nearly choked on her own spit hearing the pet name directed at her, in front of her family. “Yes,” she murmured then shook her head. “Um... maybe just water?”

“Sure, love. Be right back.”

“I thought he hated you,” Thea was smiling excitedly.

“I thought he did too,” she shrugged a shoulder.

“You’re just going to live with him?”

She smirked. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

Harry carried all her stuff into his apartment and settled it in the spare room. He made sure she was safe in his apartment while he went with her sister to her place to get a suitcase of her clothes from next door. Harry was going to take her to get a new car as soon as the insurance check came through. He helped her to the couch and made sure she felt comfortable. Her foot was propped on a pillow as she stretched out on his furniture. For six weeks they were going to live together.

“Are y'in any pain? Do y’need anything?” He asked making sure she had the remote, a book, water, and blanket all within reach.

“M’fine,” she nodded.

“You sure y’don’t need anything?” He frowned.

“Harry,” she reached for his hand and held it. “Could you sit with me?”

His frown deepened. He crouched beside her, sitting on the coffee table close to her. He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for being there for me,” she whispered. “I was very scared.”

“Course, baby.”

Her heart skipped a beat with the sweet name again. “Do you like me?” She whispered.

“Was I unclear?” He asked, reaching for her face. His hand fit her cheek perfectly and he rubbed his thumb on her lower lip. The way his eyes softened as he looked at her was the stuff of her romance novels. His eyelids lowered and the smile on his mouth was equal parts sexy as it was innocent. “S’a little selfish of me inviting you here while you recover, don't y'think? S'a reason for it, love."

She cleared her throat, trying not to melt under his touch, his gaze. It seemed impossible. “But... we—we,” she took a deep breath trying to get the sentence in her head to form in her mouth. “Argue so much.”

“S’maybe we could try not arguing.”

“I feel like we’re incapable—”

He interrupted and normally she would have been mad, but his words made her feel hot, burning, like she wasn’t going to get relief unless he kissed her. “Jus’ gotta find a different way t’keep our mouths entertained, kitten,” he leaned forward and stopped when their lips were all but a millimeter apart. “May I?” He asked politely.

“Uh-huh, yes,” she nodded, her brain short circuiting just a hair. Her lips brushed his as she nodded, creating a spark of electricity unlike anything she had felt before. He moaned quietly at the contact. The sound was short-lived, and he tilted her chin and slid his lips over hers.

She gripped at his shirt by his shoulders, pulling him toward her. She felt herself opening to him: her mouth, her brain, her legs. She wanted him all over her and he couldn’t get close enough. It felt insane that less than twenty-four hours ago she would have strangled him for breathing too loudly beside her in the enclosed space of his car and now she wanted him breathing too loudly because of her kisses and more.

He caressed her jaw and the back of her head, tugging her hair ever so softly so she tilted her head back further. “S’nice, baby,” he sighed softly and trailed a path of kisses down her throat. “Knew we could not argue.”

She laughed and nodded. “Guess that’s what’s been missing.”

He chuckled. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. “Worth it,” he shrugged one shoulder and dove back in for another heated kiss, making her moan quietly into his mouth. His lips were warm, soft, firm, and perfect. It was a quick path to addiction, and she was happy to have him as her drug.

“Y’said y’loved me when y’came out of anesthesia,” he practically giggled as he pulled away.

She gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

“NO.” She slapped a hand over her warm, embarrassed face. “No I didn’t. You're lying.”

“You did, kitten. So sweet of you,” he winked.

She groaned and turned away from him. “I should have just gone into a coma.”

He laughed stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “It was cute. You were all loopy.”

“I am not cute. I’m an adult woman and I’m not cute.”

“You’re adorable, actually. S’probably why m’obsessed with you.”

“You only knew you were obsessed with me twenty-four hours ago.”

He shrugged. “And I can’t get enough,” he assured her with a wink. “Now, m’thinking I’ll kiss you for another long while and then I’ll make you dinner?”

Her heart fluttered. “I like you a lot better when we don’t argue," she agreed.

He chuckled. “Me too, kitten. Me too,” he mumbled but followed through on his promise to kiss her again and not argue.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

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@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

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@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @mads3502

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl @emmie2308 @fruity-harry @somebunnybaby @avas-queen-black @mema10 @tulips4harry @spinninc @sassamanda77 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mp-269 @jmp1494 @fangirl509east @sideboobrry11 @drewrry @dutchtheatrelore @copiastricycle @mypolicemanharryyy @harry2121 @inharryshelter

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #coworker!harry styles #HOV #enemies to lovers!harry styles

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 10 months ago

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25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

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naydralikessoup · 11 months ago

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jojo's bizarre adventure is a life altering series if you're susceptible to the brainrot pathogen. if you're not i'm sure it's kinda whatever but if you are. you get enrolled in a secret jojo club and you lose the ability to fully speak your mind outside of it. you realize a tantalizing desire to sightsee in italy, but know that you must never, ever set foot there, else you'll risk annoying everyone around you with the constant pointing out of familiar locations. you cannot go to an aquarium without thinking, "jotaro kujo would love this." when you take a drink of water that's especially refreshing, you think of okuyasu, in tonio's restaurant, where he cried the sleeplessness out of his eyes, and wish you could do the same. and like a zombie, you attempt to spread the disease to others, the people you love most. you say to them, with a sly smile, "hey, there's this anime i think you would like," and if they're not sick of hearing about it, on the off chance they decide to try it, and like it, you'll rejoice at having another person share your curse. now you're both ruined, swapping looks and pointing out things "you just thought were cool." you have matching cherry earrings. your music taste is better than it's ever been.

#something came over me and made me write this post. my experience of a shared jojo obsession #my girlfriend converted me a couple years back and then we converted the other two in our friend group #we can never go to italy i'm so serious #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba

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rkiveinmarvel · 1 month ago

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plums and peaches* - bucky barnes des. pissing bucky off is one thing, making him fall is the same thing. notes. this is highkey inspired because of this: INSPO. fluffy! bucky barnes being emotionally constipated person he is, steve and sam knowing there's more depth, avengers living together

hello! i have risen, baby girl! this is just a fluffy story since thunderbolts* is around the corner and i finished my second semester with flying colors, i did not proofread on this one, i'm sorry but hey! it fun writing for my favorite congressman bucky barnes. also, the music opinion that characters made here is purely out of fiction! (don't hate me please, i listen to those artists too) this is for you, @vibraniumqueen, you saw the vision!

w.c: 1.5k

When James Buchanan Barnes moved into the Avengers compound, his adjustments didn’t come easy—From Tony Stark still wary of his presence, Peter Parker still doesn’t shut up about his metal arm, Sam being an ass to him, and then, there’s you. Something James doesn’t want to get close with, hold with, and even be a part with. He truly believes that he will just keep things casual, because everything you do pisses him off.

You were arrogant, cocky, and proud. Everything that the 40s people don't have, so, him meeting you was everything he didn’t wish to do. However, along the line of working in missions and tasks, he finds you useful: You may be arrogant but insightful, cocky but you have something to boast about, and you might be proud because you do have something to be smart about—and that pissed him off more. Yeah, sure, Sam is an ass to him but you take the cake.

And yet cakes are sweet too.

His hate started a year ago, a year where Tony and Steve almost had the Avengers break-up. He saw you, ignoring every word that comes out in everyone’s mouth and just sketching on the table. At first, he thought maybe you were some kind of a secretary, taking tabs of everyone’s opinion. To which surprised Bucky when Steve asked for your opinion on the decision to keep him in the team, ah, so, you’re an Avenger as well.

James was welcomed softy by Wanda and Steve, guess they bond over the HYDRA’s footprints—next was Clint, Natasha, Sam, and so on, everybody was being kind and patient with him, well, except Stark which he understands—but what he doesn’t get was you.

“Buck. Stop glaring.” He couldn’t stop, no, he can, he just doesn’t want to. You, Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Maria are currently debating who got the best music of all times. It was a harmless teasing and debate. But Bucky, being a man of 40s, stands tough on his music taste.

Well, that same goes for you.

He was defending As The Time Goes By by Dooley Wilson—while you defend The Smiths, though yours is more on the joking side, the poor former Winter Soldier did not take it likely. As you catch his glares, you can’t help but tease him more.

“I’m just saying, look, whatever you guys have in the 40s that ain’t me.” You laughed. “Besides, the Smiths are much better than Dooley.” It was a joke, really. Steve chuckled and Bucky looked like someone stole his cookie. “Stop glaring, Barnes. I might think you like me if you don’t stop.” You smiled at him, at last he looked away.

As he finally has one reason why you piss him off.

Another was when during a mission, you set off another course and ignored the protocols which pissed him and the team. Despite the other courses, the mission went well, so the team didn’t mind, well except Bucky. Once you, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint enter quinjet, he snapped.

“What were you thinking?” He grunted a little deep. He knew he was barely adjusting to the team but what you did almost jeopardized everything. “What?” You had asked, as you knew he’s getting fired up again. “What were you thinking breaking inside the control room alone, we have protocol. Clint was in the control room and you’re supposed to be with Natasha while I handle the information room.” Clint and Natasha just shared a glance as you nodded at Bucky’s words. Oh, damn, he hates your cocky attitude.

“What’s bothering your cyborg ass, it’s done. We got the thing, no one got hurt, boom and bam.” As you shrugged him off. “Also, next time you wanna say you like and care about me, take me to dinner first, I’ll appreciate it more.”

Clint and Natasha sniffle a laugh as you threw the capri-sun to Clint, Natasha, and Bucky—and yes, you intended to give him the Wild Cherry.

This is like only the nth reason why you piss him off.

A month from now it’ll be a mission that requires engaging an intel in a ball. Well as far everyone is concerned, there would be a fake couple act—it was Bucky and Natasha with Sam and you. “Why do we need to go as a couple, we can just ask Wanda to hypnotise them and we’re done.” You said in the meeting room as Wanda nodded with the suggestion. “We need Wanda in South Korea with me and Dr. Cho.” said Vision, to which Wanda replied: “Yeah, me and Vis will explore Seoul too.”

“Buy me an album, please.” You chuckled. “Well, there’s that, we should have matching rings, Wilson. We got a month to prepare, so, please can I go?” You stood up.

“Ah, Buck, didn’t you say you’re going to the city—Think you can give Buck a ride?” Steve turned to you, Bucky considered leaving Steve in the line. But you shrugged it off and nodded: “Let’s go, pretty boy.” As you left the meeting room, Sam smirked as Bucky replied: “Not a fucking word.” Steve smiled and chuckled. “You two are acting like cat and mouse for a year now, might wanna try hanging out.” Bucky sighed and stood up as Natasha continued—”You two argue a lot, you two might be the next Pepper and Tony.” That left a chuckle in the team, as he just left the room.

In your car, he sat in the passenger seat as you drove in silence.

For 1 Minute.

“Can we change the music?” He asked.

“What do you mean, it’s The Smiths.”

“I know, that’s why I want you to change it. I’m not a fan.”

You scoffed and looked at him for a split second. “Excuse you, you’re in my car, Optimus Prime.”

“Such hospitality.”

“I know right, I might get an award.” Oh, you do know, how to piss him off.

At the city, Bucky got dropped off in a library-opening but before you could drive away, you asked what time he could be picked up. “I’ll be here until 1900, what time should I pick you up?” He hesitated; didn’t speak.

“Look, I’m tryna be nice here, because Steve said we fight too much and the upcoming mission needs you, Nat, me, and Sam workin’ together so, come on, cyborg.” You said truthfully, as he just nodded. “8PM? But can you sto—nevermind, I’ll wait for you here, 8PM.”

“Okay, don’t drown in books.” You said as you drove away.

At exactly 8PM—he was there in the parking lot, as he entered the car, he just sighed. “Had fun reading, kiddo?” You had asked, chuckling, as he just grunted and looked away. “Shut it.” Truthfully, he did have a great time, but usually when he reads during times where Steve or Sam drives him—Steve buys him plums for memory and sometimes he does that himself.

After beating the record of 1 minute silence—it stretched into 10 minutes until you finally spoke. “Can you reach me the bag from the back seat? The brown one?” As he got the bag and was about to hand it to you, you simply replied. “It’s yours.”

He side-eyed you as you spoke. “I know I’m an asshole but…I observe, Barnes.” As you turn the car, he opens the paper bag and there inside are his plums. “They help with memories, right?” You said casually and still eyes on the road but Bucky felt so warm in his cheeks, not that he admits it but the softness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thanks.” You glance at him with a soft smile as you return your eyes to the road. “Careful with the soft voice. You don’t want to fall in love with me.” You joked as you and him finally shared a soft laugh, but it was there. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem.”

The time for the mission finally came along and you and Sam are currently trying to act as a couple when in reality you and Sam are close knit. Your laughs and cringes are visible and heard in the safehouse. As the party is about to get close, you catch Bucky having a hard time doing his necktie.

“Mr. Augustine, need some help?” You had asked in his made-up name to which he just chuckled. You got close and fixed his tie. “You okay?” He asked. You nodded as you smiled. “Yeah, it’s just weird–I mean, why do we have to pretend, we’re the Avengers–it’s a stupid get up, we could act like party helpers and keep it casual, and here we are–matching rings and wearing fancy clothes.” You smiled at him as you finished tying his tie.

In the brief moment, you two stared at each other. “I best get going, I don’t want Mr. Benson is waiting for me.” You chuckled also using Sam’s made-up name. “I’ll see you around.” He replied.

“Didn’t take you to bite back but…I’ll see you around, Mr. Augustine.” As you left, his phone rang—he answered it as Steve asked for updates and current situations, Bucky listened and heard everything but before the two hung up, another conversation would be present some other time.

“Got any more updates? Or you and The Smiths lover are arguing again?”

A chuckle left Bucky’s lips towards Steve’s question as he replies: “Actually, Steve…I have a problem.”

Yep, definitely, you take the cake.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3 ₊˚⊹♡ taglist: @yesiamthatwierd, @bitchimasnake-sss, @cjand10, @reemoony, @vibraniumqueen

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neigepomme · 3 months ago

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˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ playlists / caleb x reader

synopsis; sharing your music streaming account with caleb; maybe you weren't the only one feeling something deeper than friendship.

🍎 pomme's notes - i had to put this on paper (? screen..?) before i forgot about it... big fan of love songs and i have my very own caleb playlist (which will be shared at the end of this post)!! do share your calebcore songs with me in replies :9

⋆ 400 words / fluff / reader is gender neutral / 2nd person / point form / two fools pining for each other..

✈︎ caleb who you've shared a spotify account with for as long as you can remember.

✈︎ you'd always check what he was listening to, and he did the same.

✈︎ "aww pipsqueak, this thing's full of love songs. you feeling lovesick or somethin'?", he'd say, with a boyish grin plastered on his face.

✈︎ he teased and poked fun at you, but secretly wished for the love songs in your playlist to reflect how you felt about him. after all, he'd listen to songs and think of you too.

✈︎ and they were. tons of sappy melodies, all of which reminded you of his bright purple eyes. those eyes that looked at you like you were the world.

✈︎ you'd send each other songs, all of which had some sort of message hidden within them. lines about falling in love, the warmth of one another's arms, how the world felt conquerable when they were by your side.

✈︎ that was caleb to you, and you to caleb. no matter what happens, you'd be the anchor he needs, and he'd be the star in your night sky.

✈︎ "shut up, caleb.. i've seen the bruno mars in your playlists! is there a secret someone i'm not aware of?" you'd reply, cheeks burning. you knew he spent all of his free time with you, but seeing the cute little songs within his rotation, you couldn't help seeds of doubt getting planted in your mind.

✈︎ "me? never", he chuckled and with the most sincere look he could muster, he looks at you; "you know you're the only one for me, pips. no one comes close."

✈︎ you could swear you see his ears turning a deep red. he reaches out, inserting an earbud into your ear, knocking the words you were gonna utter out of your mouth.

✈︎ "let's call a truce and listen to our sappy songs together, yeah? we can be lovesick losers together" and with a bit of a tremble in his hand, he grabs a hold of yours.

✈︎ you hum, interlacing your fingers with his. whatever it was that you two were, more than friends, not quite lovers, you were content not giving it a title for now.

✈︎ if you can stay by his side, in this small and warm world you created, then you're okay waiting, and he doesn't mind waiting even longer, just for you to take a step and open your arms to him.

✈︎ for now, it was just you two, shared earbuds, and a soft romantic melody.

🍎 pomme's final notes - he's so sweet.. i've been debating his music taste with my friends and all of my friends say he's got a 2010s loser music taste which i agree with, but i think he's oh so sappy.. he listens to doo-wops & hooligans and he's got the biggest smile on his face thinking about you when 'just the way you are' comes on!!!! i just know it..

click this for my calebcore playlist! this leads to a youtube playlist full of songs that remind me of him! he canonically listens to whatever you listen to i think? which is so so so sweet. need me a caleb!!

#⋆ pomme writes #caleb x reader #caleb #love and deepspace #lads #caleb x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads caleb #⋆ neigepomme

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ratiopoetry · 4 months ago

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✩°｡ ⋆⸜ ✹☾﹒⊹ When we first met (part 1)

Teen!Nanami who has always been a reserved kid, his one friend Yu was enough for him (the boy was already too extroverted for his own good)

Teen!Nanami who met you on your first day at Jujutsu High, when Yu dragged him to say hello to the new student

Teen!Nanami who was always quiet, ignoring your attempts to get close to him, he didn't need another person in his life.

Teen!Nanami who was forced to go on a mission with you, putting on his earbuds the moment he sat on the bus, not giving you the chance to so much ask about the weather.

Teen!Nanami who didn't realize when you started to hum to the song he was listening, or the way your fingers tapped your leg as you looked through the windows. You liked that band too, and the next four bands that played on his playlist.

Teen!Nanami who grimaced and tensed when he felt your index poking his shoulder, forcing himself to look at you just to see your brief smile, asking him what song was that.

Teen!Nanami who narrowed his eyes. "Fight for your rights, Mötley Crüe." He answered quietly, eyes studying the way your face lit up with curiosity, the way your lip twitched kind of shyly to the side, not wanting to interrupt his moment, but wanting to know more about the song.

Teen!Nanami who after a sigh, indulged in your questions, feeling a mix of annoyance for having to stop his song and surprise to know you had the same music taste than him.

Teen!Nanami who shared his earbud with you just so you would stop talking and let him listen to his song.

Teen!Nanami who was forced to fight by your side and admit you were a good sorcerer, despite his initial prejudices. When you pushed him out of the way, you gave him a small subtle smile, and that didn't feel as cocky as he wished it was (so he could have a reason to dislike you.) It was a smile too humble for someone who saved his skin, and even if you didn't demand gratitude, he thanked you that night.

Teen!Nanami who had to accept when happy and chatty Yu Haibara found a friend in you, inviting you to their inner circle. He should be relieved he didn't have the need to speak now, you and Haibara spoke enough as it was.

Teen!Nanami who lost his only friend to the Jujutsu world. He was devastated, the pain was like dark matter in his chest, suffocating him silently. You were the first person to come visit him that night, placing a kind hand on top of his, letting him cry on your shoulder. He was grateful you didn't speak about that moment later on.

Teen!Nanami who realized too late he only felt safe in your presence, maybe because you were the only one left, maybe because when he was laying on the carpet of your dorm with you listening to an old Radiohead vinyl, it was the only moment where he didn't feel utterly alone and lost.

Teen!Nanami who graduated and decided to leave, the school, the Jujutsu world, you.

Next >>

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami jjk #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #teen nanami #emo nanami #kento x reader #kento x y/n #nanami hcs #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ratiopoetry stories

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beloveds-embrace · 8 months ago

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MORE OF SICK!READER PLSSS

I’ll take anything, even if it’s against filled🙏🙏

(also how old is Sick!Reader? Because I wanna know if this’ll be more like a found family situation or found lovers thing)

I imagined Reader in their mid twenties-late twenties tbh, but i kept it vague enough to where it's really up to each person's interpretation if they want them to be romantic or platonic lol at least i hope i did 🤔 Sick!Reader x 141 for those curious!

Soon enough, with so much time passing, the 141 guys get into a little competition to see who will make you smile or laugh the most. Their strategies include, but are not limited to:

Kyle makes note of the pile of books you keep on your little nightstand and casually mentions that he's really "not that big of a reader' but visits you the next time holding a copy of one of your favorite books. He tells you he'll even read and share his thoughts about it for you like a gentleman, but he butchers the plot and mispronounces every name. But it's clear he only read it to have a conversation topic with you and an excuse to have you laughing.

Johnny tries to befriend the nurses, sneaking you little treats or gifts that are normally off-limits (a small stuffed animal that curses with his voice, an extra snack that you told him you'd like to taste or try). He even smuggles in a small, colorful balloon one day with your name on it, right alongside another balloon that declares coffee is better than tea. He takes a selfie with you and those balloons and may or may not send it to the groupchat.

Ghost is a bit more subtle, awkwardly offering to teach you a card game that the squad usually plays during downtime or when they are stuck on base with nothing better to do. Despite his stoic exterior, you catch him cracking a rare smile when you joke that he might be a sore loser, and if he isn't then you will make him into one. He plays more than one game just so you have a chance to win, and the first time you win you laugh loud and proud, a flush on your cheeks.

Price brings in an old radio the taskforce had lying around and tunes into a station playing classical music or jazz, sitting by your bed and saying how his grandmother used to listen to the same kind of music. He doesn’t speak much, just enjoying the quiet companionship, but his presence is comforting. He brings a lot of interesting items for you, but on one occasion he brought you a simple bobblehead. The silly thing sits on top of your books now.

What is your best gift, though? It's how when it's time to leave, they'll always tell you they'll come back- bring something else or new for the next time. Maybe they could take you out to experience something different. Next time, which means you- you will not be left behind or forgotten even if you understand why. They say it so offhandedly, too, like it never once crossed their minds to not include you.

It means everything to you.

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stargirl-russo · 7 months ago

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Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #arsenal women #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #alessia russo x y/n #woso #woso community #awfc #awfc imagine

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444sturns · 1 month ago

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‎┈﹒ ꒰ ours. ꒱ ﹐ ‏࿐ chratt x reader — part one.

‎┈﹒ ꒰ warning: contains slight explicit content. this is written with absolutely ZERO matt x chris action. no incest, no weird shit. summary: matt has decided to share, chris is the lucky third. they didn't realize just how hard it would be to be away from you while they're on tour. ꒱ ﹐ ‏࿐

tour life wasn’t easy — long nights on the bus, endless crowds, flashing cameras, barely a moment to breathe until they were tucked away in their bunks. for matt and chris, it was a dream come true, but it wore them down just the same. weeks blurred together, exhaustion making their bones ache, patience wearing thin. there was little room for anything real, anything grounding — you.

matt’s girlfriend. the one person who made the chaos feel worth it, and the one person that matt trusted enough to share with his brother.

it started months ago, before tour had kicked off. the trial run where matt sat you down and had the conversation with you. you’d never imagined him as the sharing type, and it took you by surprise. however, to his surprise, you were up for it. it was a successful attempt driven by curiosity and fantasy. chris was in heaven, getting to live out this little dream of his. after getting a taste of you, he was hooked. how you gave yourself so sweetly to him while matt watched from the side to determine whether or not he was actually okay with sharing his sweet girl, and he was; there was no turning back. it had become a silent agreement between the three of you.

the trial didn’t end there. it continued the moment they left for tour, leaving you in L.A., waiting. not only was it your boyfriend leaving, so was his brother— the one you’d discovered is just as skilled as matt when it comes to the bedroom.

you didn’t make it easy on either of them with your almost nightly routine of sending matt a picture of you all cozied up in one of his t-shirts or hoodies, of you in next to nothing or in nothing at all. or, his personal favorite, an audio message. matt shared them all with chris, leaving them both wanton and panting, impatient. they fucking missed you.

matt and chris found themselves huddled on the couch in the bus, matt’s phone clenched tight in his hand while the other quickly tugged one of his airpods out of his ear to hand to chris. “put this in and just listen to her, man. how fuckin’ pretty she sounds.” matt mutters, adjusting his own airpod in his ear while chris does the same. he pressed play on the audio, and your sweet, whiny voice was like music to their ears.

“miss you a lot.. both of you, actually.” you started, and chris exhaled a long, needy sigh. it was shameful how his cock ached the moment he heard your voice.

“really wish you were here.. doin’ all the work myself is—” you gasped, and then you whimpered. matt turned to look at chris with a knowing look, cheeks dusted pink, and chris sat up straight.

“is she—” chris started, and before he could finish, matt did it for him, “touching herself? yeah, she is.”

chris groaned quietly, rubbing a hand down down his face. “fuck, dude.”

matt chuckled lowly and lifted his eyebrows in agreement. your voice filled their ears again.

“can’t—“ another whine, “—can’t wait to see you. need you. both of you.”

the audio ended, and chris could hardly breathe. he moved lazily to take the airpod out of his ear, dropping it in matt’s lap before sinking himself against the couch uncomfortably. “can’t fuckin’ believe i’ve been missin’ out on that for so long.”

matt grins proudly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s absolutely nothing. below the waist, though, it’s absolutely everything. he’d already played the audio message a hundred times and it was killing him. not having enough privacy was killing him. he shifted in his seat, a gruff sigh leaving his lips. “she’s fun to play with, huh?” matt asked, earning a sheepish grin from chris, “yeah, but she’s a fuckin’ tease, too. tell her i said she sounds real pretty moaning into the phone like that.”

they both went to their bunks aching, hoping that the quicker they went to sleep, the quicker they’d see you.

when the stars aligned and they could steal a night away from the cramped bus and all the noise, you were theirs, and fuck, were they definitely going to make up for the time they’d spent away from you.

⨳ ᦒ author’s note: this is basically the gentle introduction to this dynamic. lots of smut coming soon. kisses! -eden ᵎᵎ 𖥻

taglist! ￤ഒ·°,

@mattscoquette @cherryystemm @zenithsturniolo @chrissbows @sturnsrecord @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ifwdominicfike @moond0llie @bambisturns

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100hyunswife · 2 months ago

Text

suite escape | 100hyunswife

f. reader (assistant) x Byun Baekhyun

genre: smut w/fluff since Baek is a little bratty but so sweet (until the sex demon comes out)

wc: 6,398

warnings: dom!Baekhyun; piv; oral sex (f receiving); sugar daddy coded; jealous!baekhyun; mirror sex; choking; hair pulling; man handling; missionary sex; doggy/back shots; tiny breeding kink; FILLED W TENSION; mentions of cheating

synopsis: you’re on your way to a press conference with your boss byun baekhyun. a blizzard disrupts your plans and leads you two to sharing a luxury hotel suite together. baekhyun takes this chance to turn up the heat between you two as you’re stuck together in close quarters.

author’s note: my first fic ever! be gentle pls haha. feedback is very appreciated! hope you enjoy :) xx - veronica

Byun Baekhyun. Your boss is expensive and will only accept the best of the best. That applies to all areas of his life. Most notably at the moment, is his car that you’re currently riding in with him. His famous Porsche 911 Turbo S hums a sweet low purr as it is steered down the highway, taking you two to a press conference. Since it is no more than an hour and a half drive, Baekhyun insisted on driving there with you instead of other transportation options. He’ll always take the opportunity to drive himself; it’s one of his favorite things to do, it clears his mind so well. Other staff members were given Ubers with the plan for you to all meet up at the venue. He also wouldn’t mind the excuse to get to talk to you one-on-one. He’s always been curious about you, his dedicated assistant, and wants to get to know you on a more personal level.

Luckily, you and Baekhyun share the same taste in music. Classic RnB tunes play softly in the background of your drive. After a bit, Baekhyun’s voice fills the air.

“I’m really glad you agreed to ride with me for the trip down,” he confesses.

“Of course! We’re saving money this way,” you reply matter-of-factly. You are frugal to a fault, never able to understand Baekhyun’s quick willingness to spend money. “It’s nice to see you take your own steps to keeping a healthy wallet,” you add with a sassy tone. You were always like this with him - he needed it sometimes. You truly were the backbone to his success and he appreciates everything you do, and yes, including the motherly nagging that can come about. You both were a powerful work couple, but little did you know, Baekhyun wants to be more.

“So…” he starts before clearing his throat, “are you seeing anyone?”

Your head shoots up at the unexpected question. Your eyes scramble for something to focus on as you craft an answer back. Do you tell him the truth? The truth that your shitty ex-boyfriend from last summer dumped you after leaving you for the woman he had an affair with? Hmm, too personal, you think. Besides, he’s probably just asking to make sure I won’t be distracted from this job by being in a relationship.

“No,” you respond tersely.

“Oh, but Greg—” Baekhyun begins to question about said shitty ex-boyfriend.

“Greg cheated on me.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Baekhyun mutters out.

“It’s fine, trust me, you’ve got me busy enough anyway! I don’t have the time to truly think about it and get sad.”

The conversation trails off after this. Baekhyun has a sympathetic look as he stares out onto the road. You could’ve sworn he moved his right hand over towards you, as if to place it on your thigh for comfort, but it was quickly retracted. What was a bit awkward at first transforms into a comfortable silence. You take pleasure in being in the passenger seat, seeing the world pass by. Snow begins to softly fall from the sky. It’s not too bad at first, but after another half hour passes, the snow begins to really come down and pile up on the road. Baekhyun doesn’t look too phased, so you don’t question it.

As the drive continues, your mind revisits your conversation. You really haven’t thought about Greg in a while. The last time he crossed your mind, funnily enough, was when you last touched yourself. You were using a toy that you got back when you and Greg started growing distant - of course now you know why he stopped having sex with you. You haven’t been fucked in a year, and it’s really starting to become apparent to you just how horny you are.

You stare at Baekhyun’s hand gripping the steering wheel. His delicate but nicely sized fingers curve around it. You feel a bit shameful letting your mind wander like this, but you can’t help it. He looks effortlessly cool like this. It’s not like you never noticed that your boss, THE Byun Baekhyun was attractive. But you work for him, and he had you occupied indeed. Your professional relationship doesn’t stop you from having little fantasies crop up in your mind on this ride, though. So when you watch his beautiful fingers adjust their grip on the steering wheel, you can’t help but wonder how they’d look wrapped around—

“y/n.”

Your eyes snap up to find Baekhyun looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You look around to see that you two have pulled over into the shoulder and the snow flakes that fall are even bigger than what they were 30 minutes ago. The scenery is coated in white.

“I think we’ll have to call it a day from here, the snow isn’t letting up and I want to be safe,” Baekhyun says with worry. He pulls out his phone and sees that the other staff members have already arrived to the venue and are discussing things with the venue’s management. They caution that they’re thinking of cancelling the press conference for the day and moving it to tomorrow afternoon’s backup date to be safe.

“It’s probably for the best,” you tell him.

Defeated, you two pulled up to the nearest hotel you could find to get out of the hazardous weather. It turned out to be a luxurious hotel - you hate to be putting out such a pretty penny just for overnight shelter before you continue on the rest of your way in the morning, but you needed to get out of the snow.

At the valet, you open your car door to be met with the frigid air of what is fully a blizzard. Your cheeks flush. With your luggage, you both head to the lobby. Baekhyun heads to the front desk to make the reservations while you stand off in a far corner on your phone, updating the rest of the staff of your guys’ plans and whereabouts.

You approach Baekhyun after the phone call is complete, “Got the rooms?”

“Got the room.”

“Room?”

“Yes.”

“One?” you ask, stopping in your tracks.

Baekhyun continues to walk without looking back, “Oh, shouldn’t I be spending less money?”

You catch up to him and look at him dumbfounded.

“I wanted a presidential suite and you said that I need to stop spending so much money, so I got one.”

You narrow your eyes at his pettiness.

He waves off your look of distaste saying it’s fine and just one night. “You need to taste luxury for once,” he adds.

“But Baekhyun, there’s probably only one bed.”

“What? You afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

You’re speechless as you raise your eyebrow and follow him on the elevator up.

As you both stand in the empty elevator together, he discreetly peers over at you to observe the slight panic on your face. He feels a bit bad about the distress written on your face, but it’s erased when he thinks about how wound-up you are all the time. You deserve to be pampered and the only way he could make sure you were is if he gave it to you. He didn’t want you to humbly reject a suite all to yourself. Also, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want the excuse to be able to talk to you more.

Ding. You’ve arrived to the top floor, and surprisingly, the door opens directly to the suite itself. It expands the entire floor. Your eyes go wide as you step into the space.

Large floor to ceiling windows are dressed up with satin chocolate drapery. Large green Majesty Palm plants are placed in each corner, breathing life into the space. Leather furniture by Le Corbusier rests on the polished, beige marble floor. The recessed lighting along the ceiling is dimmed and casts a warm glow, creating a soft ambience in this luxurious interior. Your mouth is slightly ajar as you explore. You’ve never been somewhere so opulent. Baekhyun thinks the awestruck sparkle in your eye is… cute. Though you might say otherwise, he knows you like it.

You continue to walk around the suite, looking at all the sections. Soon you get to the bedroom and rest your luggage next to the large king sized bed in front of you.

All this space and still just one bedroom? Curse these designers, you think to yourself.

The bedroom is beautiful. The windows of this cornered room give such a perfect view of the cityscape and the snow that continues to come down. Though it’s a bitch to be outside in it, the snow coating the city in a thick blanket looks so majestic. The view is breathtaking.

Baekhyun joins you in standing in front of the window, but instead of his gaze being on the city, it’s fixed on you.

He gives you a soft smile, “Do you like it?”

You look over at him and bite your lip, fighting your mouth from giving too big of a smile.

“It’s okay to say yes,” he leads on.

“You really didn’t have to get all this,” you say looking down at your hands, “but, yes,” you end in a whisper.

“Well then it’s worth it,” Baekhyun replies with a satisfied look on his face. He turns away and gets started on unpacking his clothing.

You decide to check out the attached bathroom next. You flip the switch and are met with the most expansive bathroom you’ve ever seen. You get excited over the large bath and all the toiletry amenities; they even provided bubbles and bath salts! You couldn’t wait to put them to use. It’s been so long since you’ve had a truly relaxing evening with how busy your job is.

You announce to Baekhyun that you’ll be in the bathroom to take a bath and begin to run the steamy water. You pour in the bubbles and lavender bath salts. The herbal aroma fills the air; you inhale deeply, already feeling relaxed. You undress and sink into the tub, ready to melt away the stress of the day. You stay there like this, savoring the quiet, feeling the tension release from your body…

After a tranquil half-hour of soaking, you conclude your bath. You are about to rise from the water, but instinctually reach for a towel first. That’s when you realize, shit. You forgot to bring over your towel. If this were your bathroom at home, it wouldn’t have been a problem since it is small and doesn’t take much to reach over to the towel bar from the tub. However, this is very much unlike your bathroom at home. You scan the perimeter and spot the towels folded neatly on shelves by the sink. The distance is way too long for you to walk soaking wet without trailing water everywhere.

You sigh in defeat, knowing it’s best to just ask Baekhyun to hand you one, he’s not doing anything anyway. You yell to him to help hand you a towel. You hear his footsteps approach and tell him to keep his head down. You still in the water, draw your knees into your chest. You feel nervous, being naked in front of your boss.

Baekhyun hands it to you without looking up and just before he was about to quickly slip out, you request him to leave the door cracked to let out some of the steam that has accumulated. He obliges and returns to sitting on the bed to continue unpacking his things. As he takes out a pair of pajama pants from his suitcase, his eyes catch a titillating sight.

The door is cracked open no more than two inches, but it is enough for him to see a glimpse of your body as you rise from the tub fully naked through the mirror that reflects it in front of him. He sees your body glisten under the bright, fluorescent bathroom lighting as you proceed to wrap yourself in the towel he just handed to you. The towel he just touched. The towel that is now touching your soft, bare curves.

Baekhyun shuts his eyes, and squeezes them. Her coming back to see you with a boner would NOT be ideal, he thinks to himself. He takes a deep breath, stopping himself from getting too worked up.

You locate your pajamas. You only brought two options with you: a sheer slip dress and a big t shirt. That big t-shirt being an old EXO t-shirt with your bias’ name on the back: Suho. You were not prepared for this freak scenario that you’re in. You weren’t expecting to be seen by someone at night. Your mortified and face palm inwardly at your last minute wardrobe choices. You sigh as you pull the big t-shirt over your head, it will have to do. You just hope that he won’t tease you about it. When you joined the company, you let Baekhyun know you were aware of EXO’s legacy but he had no idea that you were an actual fan.

This is gonna be interesting…

You step out of the bathroom and hurriedly jump into the bed and pull the duvet up to your neck.

“Ok?” Baekhyun looks at you quizzically, “I’m going to go wash up now.” He leaves to the bathroom with his pajamas and toiletries.

You let out a big sigh, happy that you didn’t get caught in this embarrassing shirt. You scooch over a bit more to the left, making sure you’re as far on your side of the bed as possible without falling off. You detest the current arrangements but the displeasure doesn’t stay on your mind for too long. It’s been a long day, and as you hear the water from Baekhyun’s shower, it acts as white noise, lulling you to sleep. You feel drowsy and your eyelids slowly close, fully consumed by the toll of your day.

Once Baekhyun steps out of the bathroom and spots your sleeping figure, the desire to sleep hit him as well. He gets into bed and frowns at the amount of distance between you two. Hopefully with time you’ll open up to him. He knew this one night wouldn’t have been enough. He closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him… but it’s no use. Unfortunately, his mind is too awake. Images of your naked body are branded in his vision. When he closes his eyes, your form is all he sees and he can’t stop thinking about what it’d feel like to touch you. He struggles to clear his mind. You’re right next to him. So close, yet so far away. How long will he have to wait for you to be his?

The next morning, you wake up entangled in each other’s bodies. Your leg is hiked up against Baekhyun as your head rests on his chest. His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close. You freeze. How the fuck did we get like this? Thank god you’re up before him; you quickly scurry out of his grasp gently without waking him up. After separating yourself, you admit that you miss the warmth of that position.

You check your phone to make sure you didn’t over sleep and have enough time to make it for the rescheduled date of the conference that was made for this afternoon. The time is 7:48am - not bad at all considering you didn’t set an alarm. Your eyes continue down the remainder of your lock screen. Soon, you see a slurry of texts from the rest of the staff alerting you that the conference has been called off completely. The venue, and the rest of the businesses in the area, will be closed until further notice until the blizzard subsides. Your eyes widen with shock - you had no idea it’d be this bad. You open up the weather app and sure enough, there is a warning for extreme winter conditions. You slide through the hourly forecast and see that this blizzard is not letting up anytime soon, great. You turn over in bed and look out the window to observe the street below; there are absolutely no cars out, the roads are closed, and the snow is still coming down heavy. Looks like you’ll be staying in this suite until everything clears. You sigh as you turn around, getting ready to share the bad news to Baekhyun.

You’re about to tap his shoulder, but you pause. You take the chance to really look at him: his cute nose, plump cheeks, and perfectly shaped pink lips. This man really is pretty. Little did you know, Baekhyun is awake. He feels your eyes on him too and it’s hard for him to contain his smirk.

He looks so peaceful when he rests, but you have to update him. You poke his shoulder and softly whisper his name. He moves a little bit but still acts like he’s asleep, wanting to hear his name coming from your mouth again. It just sounds so good when you say it.

“Baekhyun,” you whisper a little louder. He finally opens his eyes. Happy to meet yours, he smiles sweetly.

“Good morning, y/n.”

God, his raw morning voice was not something you were prepared for. You almost bite your lip. You try not to show it on your face how affected you are, but nonetheless, he notices. That infamous smirk creeps up onto his face. You blush and your mind becomes empty.

You see him sit up and turn over, sinking his left hand into the mattress to support his weight, and shifting to be above you. He adds his right hand down onto the bed, holding himself squarely on top of you. As he hovers over you, he looks down into your eyes. Your gazes lock on each other. Your heart stops as you look up at him. Frozen with shock. Frozen with wonder and want. But following his actions, you see him reach over to grab the temperature control remote that was resting on your nightstand.

“It’s a little too warm,” he says so casually, still above you. You feel his breath slightly grace your forehead. He presses the button to turn the heat off before swiftly returning to sit up on his side of the bed.

You let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You blink a couple of times to regain your composure and clear your throat.

“So it looks like the conference has been called off because of the weather,” you gesture to the window, “…the blizzard is bigger than we initially thought.” You catch him up on the staff’s messages and bleak weather forecast.

Baekhyun is a little upset at the delay in his scheduling of things, but he doesn’t stay disappointed for too long. More time with you, he thinks.

You get up from bed and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You walk languidly, completely forgetting about what you wore to bed.

Baekhyun’s eyes narrow at the name on the back of your shirt. Suho? She likes Suho? Huh. He feels a tinge of jealousy. Here you are working for him and you decide to bring the t-shirt of a different group member. And wear it right in front of him. Baekhyun waits for you to return to playfully confront you.

“Hmmm, so your type is a dandy, preppy, book smart guy, huh?”

“Baekhyun, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say in confusion.

“Well, I don’t know,” he starts while walking towards you slowly, teasingly. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and guides you in front of the large mirror. Your back faces it, your face still to him. And he is impossibly close. He smirks before slightly leaning down and whispering into your ear, “You really know how to make a guy jealous, don’t you?”

You look back into the mirror, only to be met face-to-face with what you attempted to hide so carefully the night prior. You immediately shut your eyes. You feel your cheeks heat up, partially due to your clothing revelation and partially due to just how close you both are to each other.

Baekhyun slides his hands down your arms before completely removing them from you and crosses his arms. He cocks up an eyebrow, enjoying how small you look in front of him — literally and figuratively. Your shyness is palpable and the oversized shirt you were drowning in made you look fragile as he peers down at you. Like someone he wants to protect. Someone he wants to care for.

Before you could defend yourself, Baekhyun projects, “That’s why you were making googly eyes at him when you met the group after the EXO fan meeting we had!”

“I was not!” You countered, embarrassed at the possible truth of his statement. “Why would you even notice something like that? Stop making things up to embarrass me.”

The truth is, Baekhyun notices everything you do. Your quirks and all. How you twirl your pencil while you think, how you stick out your tongue when concentrating, and especially how you bit your lips while looking at Suho while greeting the rest of his members backstage at the fan meeting last year.

With a soft smile, Baekhyun hands you one of his spare button ups. “Well I can’t stand to see you in it any longer. Take this.”

“Does it really bother you that much? Is your ego that big? You don’t have to be everyone’s favorite you know!” You give a snarky reply. Of course, you’re still going to change out of it, though. You didn’t mean to ever be seen in it. With hesitation you accept the the shirt and bring it with you to the bathroom.

You slide your t-shirt off and replace it with Baekhyun’s fresh smelling white button up. As you slide each arm through, Baekhyun’s words ring in your head. You really know how to make a guy jealous, don’t you? Did he really mean that he’s jealous of the fact that your bias in the group wasn’t him? And if so, he’s just joking right? Your cheeks are still warm. You place your two hands onto your face to calm them. Feeling his closeness, his hands on your shoulders and how he slid them down your arms as he let go, and the soft tickle of his breath against the skin of your neck when he whispered to you, it refrains in your mind.

You look into the mirror at yourself in his clothes. You don’t know exactly what it is you feel, but you don’t hate it. It’s actually… comforting. This shirt is just as big as your t-shirt, so it’s oversized and comfy. It’s better than the sheer nightie that’s in your suitcase — no way that’s coming out. You’re stuck here for who knows how much longer, at least you have a new third option.

You step out the bathroom and walk towards the main living space to see Baekhyun on the phone.

“Yes, the breakfast platter for two please.”

He talks to the concierge, sitting on the brown leather sofa. His legs are spread wide and he leans back into the chair, looking up at the ceiling as he speaks. He looks delectable. You stand at the entrance of the room and continue to observe him. You see him hold the menu in one hand and the phone in the other as he carefully skims the beverage options.

“One matcha latte with almond milk and one iced americano,” he requests.

He remembered your favorite cafe order: you’re precious matcha latte. You’re shocked at this since, as his assistant, you’re usually the one to order your food at any given moment, so there’s no reason for him to archive that detail about you in his mind. After hanging up the phone, Baekhyun leans to place the menu on the coffee table. In that motion, he catches your figure standing by the entrance way. He sucks in a sharp pull of air. He stares back, wordlessly. He himself wasn’t prepared to see you in his clothing. It did something to him he wasn’t ready for. Warmth gathers in his chest. He looks you up and down as you make your way over to him. The shirt’s hem stops at such a delicious height on your thigh, tempting even. Any higher and he would have a hard time being discreet with his gaze.

“Thanks for breakfast, Baek,” you say smiling. Baekhyun could have died. You, standing in front of him in just his shirt, and calling him a new nickname? For the first time that trip, you had Baekhyun blushing.

Not too soon after, the food arrives and you two pleasantly share the meal together. At the end of your main meal, you indulge in the included sweet morning treat: churros and chocolate. It’s no secret that you love sweets - Baekhyun gifts you a set of chocolates every year for your birthday. You pick up the thick, cinnamon and sugar covered fried stick of dough and dip it into the accompanied pot of liquified chocolate. With anticipation of the flavor and little else in your mind, you lift it up to your lips and take a bite. You close your eyes as you savor the decadent dessert. You’re sure your lips have curved up into a smile as you chew.

Sitting across from you, Baekhyun finds your deep enjoyment of sweets adorable, as well as the chocolate sauce that is left on the corner of your mouth. He reaches over the table to swipe it away with his thumb. He wishes he could have licked it off. The unexpected contact causes you to open your eyes just after swallowing.

“You had something there,” he says wiping his thumb off with a napkin.

You feel your cheeks heat up. Gosh, why does he keep making your heart flutter, it’s as if he’s doing it on purpose at this point. He gives you a smile as he raises from his chair.

“Here,” he scoots his set of churros towards you, “have mine too.”

He affectionately ruffles your hair with his hand and leaves to sit at the desk in the bedroom. You watch him leave, he has such a confident stride when he walks. It’s sexy. You return your gaze to the churros and aren’t shy about finishing them. You eat your way to the last remaining churro. After dipping it, you bring it over to yourself slowly… too slowly. The chocolate sauce that coated the end drips directly onto Baekhyun’s clean white button up. Shit, shit, shit. You shoot up and scurry to the bathroom, passing Baekhyun on your way. Baekhyun turns his head in concern when he sees you run into the bathroom. You immediately take the shirt off and run it under the water of the fully blasting faucet. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you ruined a perfectly good shirt that he kindly lent to you. Drowned out by the sound of the running water and the swarm of thoughts in your mind, Baekhyun goes unnoticed as he steps in the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. In the middle of your desperate attempts to scrub the stain out of his shirt, you suddenly feel yourself encased. Baekhyun’s hands are on each of your sides. You look up into the large mirror in front of you and see Baekhyun right behind you as you stand there topless in just a pair of panties. You could have screamed but you caught yourself. You’re frozen with shock. You thought it’d be bad just if he saw that you stained his shirt, but this is so, so much worse. Or so you tell yourself.

“You know, I came in here out of concern,” he starts, “you ran right past me without saying anything and you didn’t even close the door, I had to do it for you.”

“Baekhyun, get out!” You protest as you miserably try to cover yourself.

But he doesn’t move, he stays pressed up against you, forcing you to stay facing the sink. Trapped for him to control.

“Finish what you’re doing.”

Through the mirror, your eyes shoot daggers at him, but he wouldn’t know how it’d feel to get directly hit by them. He’s been peering down at you from the side this whole time. He watches your pride crumble in front of him, because of him, directly with his own eyes.

He continues, “This is my shirt, that I own,” he pauses, “I deserve to oversee it with all the damage that you’ve done.”

It wasn’t the shirt that he wanted to oversee, it was you.

You’re in disbelief but guilty. In a desperate attempt to make this moment pass as soon as possible, you continue to tend to the shirt, though your tries at truly getting what is left of the stain out are futile. After a minute of rubbing and rinsing as best you can, you turn off the faucet in defeat.

“Please,” you let out in a whisper, “I’m so embarrassed right now, you have no idea. This is the most I can do, I’m sorry,” you say with your head down, not able to meet his eyes in the mirror.

He stays silent. Your mind races. You’re afraid that he’s upset. In this moment of stillness, you feel uneven pressure against your ass. Something hard pokes you from between you two. You look up and see his eyes closed and his lips parted. He’s aroused. It’s so obvious and you’re so gone. Byun Baekhyun, your hot as fuck boss, is pressed up against you in the bathroom of the suite that he paid for for you two, with a boner that he can barely contain.

Your eyes travel from his delicate hands resting in the edge of the counter, to his wrist decorated in a platinum Rolex watch, then up his arm. Slowly, you turn around to fully face him. Your eyes are level with his broad chest. It’s contained by a plain black tee and decorated with his beloved gold Chrome Hearts cross necklace. Eventually you meet his face. Your eyes lock.

His eyes flicker to your lips for a moment.

“Can I be honest?” He asks.

You nod in earnest, hanging on to his every word.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”

You wait for him to continue. He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gives you a sweet but firm kiss on the lips. This one peck turns into two, then three. Each lasting longer than the last, until you both are fully exploring each other’s mouths. You decide to get flirty: in the middle of your kiss, you pull away to lick his bottom lip. This elicits a deep groan from him. You gently bite his bottom lip while pulling away; it snaps back into place. Baekhyun presses his forehead to yours after that amazing kiss.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says breathless. The lack of contact doesn’t last long, though. Now that you’re facing him unlike earlier, he takes the opportunity to unashamedly get a good look at your body. He bites his lip as he fully takes in the sight of you. After a good up and down, his eyes stay tethered to your breasts. He cups them in his big hands before swirling his thumbs around your nipples. You moan softly and throw your arms around his shoulders. He bends and latches his lips to your neck. He leaves open mouthed kisses on this long stretch of skin, all for him to mark. He notes one special area that makes you throw your head back.

“Please, Baek,” you pant out.

“Please what?”

“I-I need you.”

“Where?” he asks, the roughness in his voice palpable. You grab his hand and put it right over your mound that is covered only by your panties. His eyes flash a darker shade of brown.

Baekhyun sinks down your body, his hands take a quick tour, running along your torso, swiping your breasts, your stomach, and down your legs as his knees get closer to the floor. He swiftly meets the cool, hard tile. He braces himself by holding onto your hips.

“Spread your legs, I want to taste you.” He commands and you obey.

His teeth meet the top of your panties; he bites the fabric and drags them down — they drop to your ankles.

He looks hungry. He gives your pussy a kiss.

“So so pretty.”

He finally gets a taste. Your fingers grip his hair in pleasure as he uses the thick, well-trained muscle to swirl around your swollen bud. With no more delay, he dips his tongue between your folds, eating you out with passion.

“Ah, Baek,” you whine languidly. Baekhyun smirks against you, still loving your new name for him. He fucks you with his tongue, getting more impatient by the second.

Suddenly, Baekhyun stands tall again, you see the big tent in the front of his pants. He looks, and is, uncomfortably hard. You can’t help but stare. He notices and brings your hand to touch his bulge atop the thin fabric of his cotton pajama pants.

“See what you do to me baby?”

Your mouth is agape. He really wants you and there’s no denying it now. In a drunken daze, ready to be filled, you pull down the waistband of his pants and underwear. You see it spring out, thick, hard, and angrily leaking with pre cum. You run a finger along the shaft. You see him shut his eyes and he makes a fist out of frustration. You smile, successfully teasing him. You give in and grip his cock with your hand entirely, giving it a couple of strokes up and down. Baekhyun reattaches his lips to yours as you get him impossibly hard.

He says, with little restraint left, “I need to fuck you. Now.”

He regains control and grabs your waist to lift you up onto the bathroom counter. You keep your legs spread wide for him to fit himself in between. He pumps himself one more time before lining his cock up with your entrance. His eyes flick up to yours before he takes the plunge; he wants to be sure you feel the same desire, the same ache, the same burning need. You give him a nod with needy eyes.

He watches your face closely as he sinks into you. He pushes in slowly. He could get off solely from seeing your face contort from pleasure. You both groan at this new depth of contact, of intimacy, and most notably, of pleasure. Baekhyun wants to shut his eyes and focus on how tight and wet you are around his length, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes open. He doesn’t want to miss a single movement from you. He wants to catch ever squirm, every wriggle, every sigh and lip bite. He wants to see all the evidence of his effect on you.

He thrusts into you go deeper and deeper as you beg him to go harder. Heavy breaths and terse grunts leave his lips. Meanwhile, you can’t control yourself. Your eyes roll back and your hands smooth over his broad shoulders and back, feeling his muscles tense with every movement he makes.

“I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re stuffed with my cock,” He breathes out.

Before you can react, you’re lifted off the counter and he promptly turns you around — returning you to your original position that started all this. His hand snakes around from behind and grips your neck. Your back arches. You’re forced to look up and at yourself in the mirror. He gives it a slight squeeze, restricting your airflow. Your eyes roll back at the dizzying sensation. You can focus on nothing but the pleasure that is welling up inside of you. Your mind and body is filled with him.

“Look at how you fall apart for me,” he whispers into your ear before once again attaching his mouth to your neck, nibbling that special spot of yours. You’re his and he wants you to remember that beyond the hotel stay. Not your shitty ex-boyfriend’s, not Suho’s, his.

You let out a cry at the love bite, too fucked out to care how loud you are. He switches his grip from your neck to now being wrapped around your hair, pulling your head back. You’re completely exposed, tits bouncing with the impact from him slamming into you. You can’t control your moans as he pummels inside of you; thrust after thrust you feel that band within your stomach tightening, getting closer and closer to snapping.

“Fuck, Baek please! I’m so close,” you whine out.

Your pussy grips his cock, ready to milk him for everything he has.

“Yeah, you want to cum? You want to cum all over my pretty cock don’t you?”

You nod your head in ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chant.

Baekhyun’s grip on your waist tightens and his eyebrows furrow. He looks down, mesmerized at his cock disappearing inside of you.

“Fucking cum for me,” he grunts out roughly.

You feel your body tremble as your release takes over. Your vision goes white; your body explodes under his grasp. Soon after, you feel Baekhyun grip your waist the hardest he ever has.

“You’re gonna take every drop,” he forces out through gritted teeth. He stills in you and throws his head back with a growl. His thick cock pulses inside of you as it shoots his pent up load. Thick ropes of his hot white cum paint your walls.

If his hand wasn’t on your waist to hold you up, you would have collapsed from your unstable legs. You close your eyes, still recovering from the intense orgasm. Your body is spent. He slowly pulls out of you; you feel the mix of your secretions seep out your cunt.

Your body feels heavy in this moment, but with the kiss that Baekhyun lands on your shoulder, your heart flutters and feels light.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #exo smut #exo fic #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun x reader #minors dni divider by @anitalenia #dark blue divider by @hyuneskkami #veronica writes

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months ago

Text

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary: When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar.

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same.

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over.

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din.

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch.

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement.

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her.

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it.

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot.

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay.

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called.

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed.

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide.

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about.

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were.

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight.

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger.

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar.

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown.

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver.

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile.

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her.

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious.

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing.

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam.

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand.

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth.

You try not to be jealous.

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago.

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot.

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm.

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table.

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in.

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.”

Smooth real smooth.

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now.

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again.

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier.

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze.

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard.

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him.

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are.

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing.

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire.

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off.

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces.

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit.

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did.

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say.

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown.

“Me too.” You sigh.

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?”

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it.

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-”

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat.

I am so out of practice.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat.

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.”

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours.

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.”

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life.

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?”

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight?

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave.

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test.

Worst seduction technique ever.

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.”

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past.

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him.

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes.

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.”

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door.

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell.

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation.

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.”

“Aww babe.” Liza says.

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.”

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind.

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him.

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.”

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him.

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong.

You didn’t think that you would need it.

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.”

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did.

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door.

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.”

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song.

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove.

Why didn’t I ask him for his name?

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.”

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class.

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester.

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class.

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend.

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her.

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen.

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship.

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer.

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter.

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car.

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon.

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy.

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible.

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate.

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement.

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground.

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird.

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward.

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back.

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar.

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting.

The image comes into focus.

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder.

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag.

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him.

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!”

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!”

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA.

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die.

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing.

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people?

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that?

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing.

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you.

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little.

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke.

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley.

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him.

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you.

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with.

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates.

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings.

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun.

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it?

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight.

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding.

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once.

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream.

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage.

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men.

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and-

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other.

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible.

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise.

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!”

“I’m not a murderer.”

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack.

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.”

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours.

That’s obviously a fake name.

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print.

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration.

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one.

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together.

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!”

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy.

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing.

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him.

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him.

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices.

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him.

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you.

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him.

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong.

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

#jensen ackles #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader #russell shaw x you #russell shaw x female reader #russell shaw fanfiction #tracker #tracker fic #tracker cbs #tracker fanfiction #meet cute #jensen ackles characters #jackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles russell shaw

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notapradagurl7 · 3 months ago

Text

One More Taste.

Creepy!Black Fem! Reader x Dark!Terry Richmond.

Summary: You got it really bad for your fine-ass next-door neighbor and co-worker Terry Richmond, just an unhealthy obsession for him and it was his birthday, all you wanted was to make him yours. But will he be open to you? Turns out he was just as hooked as you were.

Warnings: dark themes, smut, praise, dirty talk, slight fluff, unhealthy obsession, creepy!reader, dark!Terry, fingering, scolding, choking kink, stalking, mention of trauma, mention of murder, possessiveness, toxic themes, jealousy, and slight breeding kink(if you squint), some pwp, all are consensual but read at your own risk, childhood trauma.

A/N: Here is a day late b-day fic for our man Terry, 😭 hope you enjoy my loves, ☺️ this one is kinda ominous, and a special thank you to @megamindsecretlair for this wonderful tag and event, don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!🫡

WC: 3,265k.

Taglist: @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @kaylaahisthebestest- @uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa

@mymindisneverhere @mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii

@23jammy @zillasvilla @musicisme333

@chaoticcoffeequeen @soft-persephone @ruewritesoccasionally @xblackreader @artsninspo @teeresaresa @kumkaniudaku

————-

It all started with the boring-ass office meeting in the conference room where Terry was introduced to everyone including yourself, all it took was a simple glance from him to get you going, he was that little drug in your veins. And you need is another dose of him.

From the one-on-one projects your boss Maggie assigned both of you to work together to Terry sitting next to you in the break room for lunch, getting to know that fine man day by day gave life to your fantasies, as some would say delusions.

You've learned so much about Terry and kept them tucked in the back of your mind like a secret you've written in your diary. He let you in his life, due to your shared responsibilities at work.

Your daily conversations built a connection that felt unshakeable, like the spine of a well-loved book.

He was a former Marine, he had a cousin named Mike whom he had lost last year, you had your share of loss just like he did, the both of you had similar interests in rock music, adding fuel to your fire for him, as it burned everything in its path.

You only stalked the man once or twice in the park where he did his morning jogs, you could have asked to join him but you already worked out enough on your own. He almost caught you.

With Marine skills of his, he could've done something.

Hearing him chat with other women in the office made you cringe, you wanted to claw their eyes out with your nails once they laid a lustful eye on your man.

And you knew he loved his coffee black with one shot of cream. The way he carried himself, all brooding and mysterious, was enough to drive you wild. He was so tall and was so muscular, you wanted to devour him sexually.

There was undoubtedly something enigmatic about Terry that you wanted to uncover, but he kept his guard up, just as you did, shaped by the personal trauma you experienced at 16, a memory you tried to shake off and ignore.

However, after you resolve to take revenge on the individual who has wronged you so deeply, it's essential to let go of the pain that lingers in your heart.

You were determined to eliminate that uncle in your family, and your older brother Jarvis offered to assist with the endeavor, so he did. It seems you weren't the only one who had that same experience at 16.

After that fateful day, your older cousin Jarvis took swift action, hiding and disposing of the body. Together, you severed ties with your family, leaving the past behind as you relocated to that familiar yet quiet neighborhood. In time, you both found stable, rewarding jobs, convincing yourself that you were on the road to healing.

But today was different; it was Terry's birthday, and the weight of your memories had to be set aside.

Determined to celebrate, you decided to bake him a cake, pouring your affection into every batter mix and frosting swirl. You invited Terry over to your cozy little house next door, eager to share a joyful moment amid the shadows of your past.

You couldn't wait to show him how much he meant to you, that was a time when Terry decided to walk you home when your car broke down. He offered to drive you home because it was dangerous for you to be alone, that protectiveness you felt with him made you fully enamored.

But Terry didn't celebrate birthdays like that, but he appreciated those who thought of him.

You stood before your table with your eyes on the small cake, he preferred chocolate cake over vanilla. “It’s perfect,” you mumbled, smirking at the cake.

You placed a few candles on the table, and washed your hands clean. Once, you heard a knock on your door, you knew that it was Terry.

You hurried your way toward the front door, and swung it open revealing the 6-foot, man with his fawn light skin. His green-blue ish spoke to your dark brown ones, in a ways couldn't fathom. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.

“Happy birthday Terry,” You sang playfully, stepping aside to let him in.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Terry replied back, stepping inside and you closed the door behind him.

“I baked you a cake, would you like a piece?” You asked kindly.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You baked me a cake? You really went all out, huh? I'm flattered. But you know I’m not big on the whole birthday thing.”

You stepped closer, your heart racing. “I know, but I thought it would be nice. Just us, you know? To celebrate you...just a little?”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in that effortlessly cool way that made you want to reach out and touch him, to feel that strength radiating from his body. “You’re sweet. Just don’t expect me to get all sappy about it.”

“Who said anything about sappy?” You laughed lightly, trying to mask the nervousness bubbling inside. “I just want you to try my cake. It’s chocolate. Your favorite, right?”

Terry’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe amusement. “Chocolate, huh? You’ve been paying attention.”

“Of course,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I pay attention to everything about you, Terry. You’re...hard to ignore.”

He studied you for a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got then.”

You led him over to the table, your heart pounding as you cut a generous slice of the cake and placed it on a plate. As you handed it to him, your fingers brushed against his, and a jolt of electricity coursed through you.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice low as he took a bite. His tongue gliding across those lips of his to get frosting, making your core throb. He made you all hot and bothered just like that?

“Y-You’re welcome, do you like it?”

Terry nodded in response before as his eyes widened slightly, and you held your breath, waiting for his reaction. “Damn, this is good as hell. Seriously.”

You beamed, your pride swelling. “I’m glad you like it. I made it just for you.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the world faded away. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I am, and I'm hoping that we can be more than friends, you know?” you replied, feeling bold. Fiddling with your string of yarn that you found to calm yourself down.

His expression hardened for a moment, and you felt the air grow heavy with unspoken words. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Try me, I’m not afraid of you, Terry. I want to know you. All of you.” you replied with a sinister tone, refusing to back down.

He set the empty plate down, his eyes darkening as he took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You really have no idea what you’re inviting into your life, do you?”

Your pulse quickened, the thrill of fear and desire mixing together in a heady cocktail. “Maybe I do. Maybe I’m willing to take the risk.”

“You think that I don't know about you? Stalking me in the park, I should’ve reported you to HR or handled it myself,” Terry confessed darkly, his hand behind his back with that wicked smile of his curling up.

Your smile fell into a frown, pursing your lips a bit as you had to turn off a light switch in your head, placing your hands on your sides. Your anxiety

There was no use to deny what you did, you were there being a creep toward the man. When you could've done the normal thing and asked him if you could jog with him, not give in to your obsession with him, your felt your walls crumbling down.

“I don't blame you if you do, it was inappropriate and weird. But I just feel like we are alike, you and I, the moment I saw you. I became obsessed with you Terry,” You admitted, a grin on your face.

Terry’s gaze intensified, awe and intrigue across his beautiful face, “Obsessed huh? What if I told you that I was obsessed with you too? Maybe it did turn me on that you saw me, and stalked me like that,” he said back, crossing his arms.

“What makes you think we are alike?”

“There’s something in both of us, we've both been through too much damn trauma, and we’re shaped by our pasts, Terry. I see it in you and it resonates with me,” You said softly, your tone shaky.

“I agree with you on that which means I'll be yours Y/N, I think you need your punishment after stalking me, I need to tame a little brat like you,” Terry replied back, his grin still on his face that sent a shiver done your spine.

His words rekindled the heat within you, causing your clit to pulse, yet you remained frozen as if on ice, your lips slightly parted but unable to speak.

"Can't speak now?” Terry asked, Tilting his head to the side like a villain with a masterplan from a cartoon.

“Safe word?” he asked again, grinning at you.

“Kiwi,” you spoke up, he kissed your forehead.

“Good girl,” he replied, stepping closer to you.

You gently sat on the couch with your legs spreading apart for him, as if he told you in the back of your mind. But you needed this, and he was finally yours, Terry followed you and unbuckled his belt but he stopped, you whined softly.

“Actually, you don't get this dick since you’ve been bad,” Terry scolded with a gentle tone, his hand wrapped around your neck. You shudder from his touch.

Did you have it this bad for him like that Usher song? Yes you did, you couldn't wait any longer. You moved his hand down below your dress, he slid it over your head, while he took his shirt. Blessing you with that body, his muscles tensed from your touch. You stifled a moan from a lip bite.

His physique reminded you that he could've been a Greek god in another life similar to mythology or perhaps a Pharaoh in ancient Egypt, calling for your hand in marriage.

“I'll be good, I promise. Touch me please, Terry,” you mewled softly, pouting your lip.

His fingers gradually slide inside your pussy, practically sucking his digits in quickly. You were fully enamored with the man before you, this very moment to be touched, fucked good. This surely will suffice for now, moaning wildly and your essence splattering all over.

You needed more than his fingers, Terry moaned raspingly from that wet warmth of you, you moaned wildly and rolled your hips to match the torturous pace. “Fuck..I don't believe you, but that pussy sure does..” Terry groaned with his eyes on you.

“Now, you can get this dick..” Terry commanded with a grin, grabbing your hips while your legs parted.

He pushed his dick inside, starting off with a rough yet face pace, you gasped sharply but cutting yourself off with a moan. “Fuck, that’s..too…good but fuck!” you hollered with pleasure, moving your hips with him. Fueling his fire for you but not brighter than yours.

His full lips enveloped your nipple as his other hand kneaded and squeezed the other one; “You think that you get away with what you did? Don't ever do that shit again baby,” Terry growled, thrusting passionately yet almost lovingly.

Your wetness splattering all over his dick and you let out a soft whimper when his nails grazed the stretch marks on your brown skin. "Damn, so fucking tight, you're that deprived?" Terry teased, licking your ear. In the mess on your couch, he picked you up in his arms, your arms encircling his neck. and draped your legs around his waist, similar to a piggyback ride, but with you facing him. The curve of your ass was smacked by his hand.

“T-Terryyy…i’m s-sorryy..” you whimpered softly in his ear, your nails marking his back. Letting anyone know that he was yours, finally yours. He loved the sight of you breaking apart under him, the wet squelching sounds filling the room like a clapping noise. "I'm yours, say you're mine," he groaned deeply, Moaning his name, Music to his ears, why didn't he confess you sooner?

His hands spread your legs wide apart for him, better than he imagined, damn near masturbated to, fantasies couldn't compare, those dreamy ocean eyes of his focus on your wet pussy making his dick disappear as he filled up completely, "I'm yours! Terry! shit! You're so big!" You screamed, laying your head on his shouder.

His hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing you to look in his eyes as he fucked you harder, your eyes closed shut in immense pleasure, was he trying to make sure you couldn't breathe or move? “So..fucking..sexy, there’s no way I can let you go, is it the same for you?” Terry panted heavily, peppering kisses along your neck.

Have you met your match? Fingers rubbed your clit in slow circles, and your moans grew louder, “Yes! Terry! I won't let you go!” Clearly, you can't, dripping sweat coated your bodies, and heat radiated from the closeness.

Tears blurred your vision, and your moans sounded like you were crying, his dacryphilia kicking in at the sight but his thrusts turned gradual and sloppy, “Cumminggg, it’s so good,” you moaned out, patting his back with your hand, panting raspingly. Letting him know that you were at your limit, he thought of cumming inside but he didn’t want to do that.

You screamed out from your essence spilling out onto his dick rather quickly, and he pulled out of you. His tip spurted out on your stomach, as he kept you in his arms lovingly before kissing you sloppily, “Mine,” he said proudly, he pulled away and carried you into the bathroom, deciding to do aftercare.

“You good?” Terry asked in concern, turning on the faucet and allowing the water to fill up the tub and adding your sweet-smelling foamy soap. He gently placed you in the tub, watching you nod.

“Nah, I’m tired as hell. Happy birthday Terry,” You chuckled softly, the warmth of the water enveloping you, contrasting the heat that still lingered from your earlier encounter. Terry settled beside the tub, watching you with a mixture of admiration and intensity.

There was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart race, igniting that familiar fire within.

“You know, this whole birthday surprise turned out to be better than I imagined, I didn't expect that,” he admitted, a playful smirk curling on his lips.

You leaned back, letting the bubbles rise around you like a soft cloud. “Well, I wanted to make it special for you. You deserve it.”

His expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. “It’s been a while since anyone went out of their way for me, I appreciate it more than you know,” he confessed, his tone sincere.

You reached out, your fingers grazing his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “We both have our pasts, Terry. I can tell you know that. But I want to be with you.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “You’re a lot more than I expected, Y/N. I can’t promise it’ll always be easy, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest. “That’s all I ask.”

Terry leaned closer, resting his elbows on the edge of the tub as he studied your face. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you? The things that come with being with someone like me?”

You met his gaze, the seriousness of his question sinking in. “I’ve faced my own darkness, Terry. I’m not afraid of yours.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and you felt your heart flutter at the sight. “You really are something else, I should have went easy on because you’re sweet,” he said, his tone filled with admiration.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back slightly, his expression turning playful. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only for you,” you teased back, splashing water playfully in his direction. He laughed, he kissed your lips and you feel relief wash over you.

You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before offering it to him. Washing yourself clean, “Want to join me?”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you trying to fuck me again?”

“I do,” you replied coyly, biting your lip.

He chuckled, shaking his head but eventually relenting. “Alright, but we've got to go to bed,”

You grinned, your heart racing as he joined you in the tub, the warm water enveloping you both. As the bubbles surrounded you, he washed himself but then fingered you under the water. Making you cum again and again, Terry dried you off and himself. He dressed you in his tee shirt that smelled like his cologne, he slides some grey sweatpants he brought and boxers.

“Happy Birthday Terry,”

“Thank you, baby girl,”

After that, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, facing you and wrapped an arm around you protectively, this was surely a birthday that Terry wouldn’t forget. It was with you, he was yours.

—————

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