#so I’m gonna try and be productive Monday so I can rest and relax at my desk Tuesday

[whoblewboobear]

The way I had every intention to be productive this weekend and did none of it bc I know I’m in for some shit the minute I walk into that stupid office

[seungsuki]

groceries - sunday restock with your boyfriend (f!reader)

warning: none

note: i manage to sneak in bachira hehe.. wonder why?

sundays are nagi seishiro’s favourite day. just relaxing and being lazy was something the 190 cm striker loved. top that off, you would baby him and take care of him so he would be well rested for the brutal training monday would force on him

but today wasn’t his favourite sunday 

seishiro spent his day trailing behind you like a lost duckling. it was a nice afternoon and you thought today was the perfect day to restock on groceries. that’s how you both ended up in the bustling supermarket near your place. you pushed the trolley along the isles while nagi in his true nature, clung onto you like his life depended on it. 

his head rested on your shoulder as his arms wrapped securely around your waist forming a somewhat comfortable back hug. you swore seishiro purposely made sure his warm breaths were extra slow to annoy you but you weren’t gonna let him win. you had to restock groceries today or else both of you would be too busy to find any day. 

“do we really need to waste time buying food?”, seishiro spoke as the both of you navigated through the shelves of cereal 

“yes we do- oh found it!”, you smiled as you retreated something you searched far and wide 

“a cereal box..? that was something you wasted so much time on?”, seishiro asked confused

“it’s not just a cereal! it’s a collab with txt!!”, you groaned remembering how terrible seishiro is with names 

“nevermind we’re almost done and then we’ll go home you big baby”

you chuckled when you heard a small ‘yay’ from the laid-back koala you called your boyfriend. he even gave you a small kiss on the neck to celebrate his so-called victory. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a small affectionately sigh. you placed the cereal into the cart and strolled away. moving from aisles you’d either have seishiro acting like a cringe teen making fun of the brand names or seishiro mumbling in your ear about how terrible his team was to him (they don’t let him sleep during breaks). 

while you love nagi seishiro with all of your heart, it was these moments that made you want to question just how much of a hassle life was for him. you wonder sometimes.. if you had never asked him out, would he still be alive? yeah he had reo and all but you can’t help but wonder if seishiro had some sort of issues in the past 

you shook your head trying to forget the negative thoughts clouding your head. this was a topic you’d definitely bring up for another day. 

“angel, can we get ice cream too?”, seishiro suddenly added as he watched you pick up the nuggets packet 

“ice cream? yeah sure sure.. anything you want sei”, 

after checking everything in your cart, both of you lined up to pay for your groceries. you recalled a story to seishiro about your university friends trying to force you into acting. your friend dramatically added about how the theatre club was in danger, forcing you to skip your volleyball club practice.

seishiro hums to your story, even though he looks like he doesn’t care, you best believe that he loves gossip. he picked this from reo, another guy who was always hungry for gossip, even if he doesn’t know that person at all. finally, after what seems like eternity, it was your turn 

“good afternoon! hope you guys fin- nagi? no way! whatcha doing here?”, the yellow highlights haired cashier asked 

“bachira.. why are you a cashier?”, seishiro asked puzzled as he frees himself from you 

“oh i picked up a part time job to help my mama. who’s she? hey it’s nice to meet you! i’m bachira!”, bachira introduced himself as he started to scan the products

“i’m [name]... you’re seishiro’s friend?”, you asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from bachira 

“i didn’t know you had friends other than reo”, you asked again but to the snowy bangs boy 

“i’m trying”, seishrio replied with a shrug 

bachira chatted away with you while preparing your bill. he even added his ‘bff discount’ for the both of you which made you laugh at his antics. waving him goodbye, seishiro and you left the store. it made you feel happy, knowing that sei made friends at blue lock.

it’s not like you hated reo or anything. if anything, you were thankful at how he was always with your lazy genius but you wanted seishiro to branch out. hearing from bachria about his new friends gave you a sense of relief that he had other people to count on 

“you look funny”, sei spoke trying to read your mind 

“i’m just happy”, you said adding a small smile 

“what is there to be happy about? i’m so sad i had to leave my warm bed for this”, seishiro groaned 

“i’m happy you have so many friends. you have so many people who care about you!”, you countered 

“i should be careful! they might steal you from me”, you jokingly added, nudging the soccer player 

“what’s there to worry about? you’re prettier than them”, sei bluntly said making you go red 

“h-hey! don’t just go around saying that!”, you nervously laughed away the butterflies that erupted 

“i'd rather be with my pretty girl than sit with those idiots. it’s a hassle”, sei sighed nearly dropping the bag he was holding 

“...”

“...”

“let’s just go home and i’ll give you some ice cream with extra sprinkles” 

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator

[hauntedhokage]

laundry day

Eijiro Kirishima/Fem!Reader 

word count: 2k

summary: Laundry day was one of his favorite days of the week for a few reasons. A broken washing machine in your apartment requiring a trip to a laundromat wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

warnings: public sex, fingering, needy!Kiri, references to past (probably painful) quirk mishaps, unprotected sex, Kirishima is a talker 

ao3 link

“Why don’t you sort your clothes?” you grumble, sifting through the laundry bag he carried in to see if there were any more white shirts hiding in there. You’d already found three, you were certain there’d be more. There was always one more. 

“Why is it now a problem?” he asks from where he sits atop one of the folding tables, watching as he was told while you load the washing machines. “Didn’t care last week.”

“Last week the washer wasn’t broken on laundry day.”

“So?”

“So at home I can just throw the next shirt I find into the machine. Here the door locks when it starts washing so I can’t do that and I’d like to protect your white clothes while not paying extra to wash them.”

“If these,” he lifts a pair of your red panties and swings them around his finger, “turn one of my shirts pink, then I’m not complaining. It’ll probably remind me of your p-”

“Stop right there.” 

“I was gonna say panties, before you get yours in a bunch.” The teasing only has you slamming the washer door shut, rolling your eyes as he laughs while slingshotting your panties into the other machine that already had some of his clothes in it. “Relax, baby, it’s laundry day!”

“Not as fun when we’re not at home, Eijiro.” 

“You’re working too hard, that’s all.” And he wasn’t helping, so go figure. The busy pro hero had not done the laundry since you’d moved in together - that was happily taken on as your task since he always managed to do the dishes even after long days of work keeping the streets clean and free from villany. The busy pro who always tried to take laundry day, or at least the morning of laundry day, to stay home since the rule was “everything worn gets washed” which meant he got to watch you walk around the apartment naked while he also lounged around in the buff. 

The washing machine breaking the other day, and your darling pro hero boyfriend’s tired attempt at fixing it only making it worse, is why you had to be in the laundromat and washing clothes while fully clothed. 

“Do you work later?”

“Trying not to, but anything can happen.” 

You nod at that, holding your hand out for more coins and looking over when he only put his hand in yours to hold it. The relaxed smile on his face eases all the tension in your body almost immediately; and you squeeze his hand with a smile of your own as he puts the coins in for you, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss as you start the machine. 

“Not very chivalrous of me to let you do all the work here, when it’s kinda my fault we have to be here.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you promise, leading him back towards the folding table you’d made your base camp for the morning. He lifts you onto it with ease, standing between your legs and resting his head on your chest. He hadn’t styled his hair this morning so the bright red locks laid flat against his head, making it easy for you to run your fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp without getting product under your nails.

“'M sorry I messed up the washer.”

“All good, the thing was going out anyway. The new one gets delivered on Monday, and we’ll be back to normal.” Your reasoning is met with a hum, his fingers ghosting along the skin of your thighs left uncovered by your shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but quickly turns less than when those nimble digits dance their way under the loose material along the inside of your thighs. 

“Eijiro, we’re in public.”

“We’re alone, baby, ‘n I wanna say sorry:”

“You can say sorry at home.”

“Not fun.” He’s pouting at you now, trying to play at your weaknesses while his fingers stay just barely away from your mound. “C’mon, baby, it’ll be okay. Just wanna take care of you for taking such good care of me. Just my fingers, promise.”

There were many ways that this could go wrong. He couldn’t “just” finger you, he was too eager to please and once he got a taste of you he could never stop. Not until you were thoroughly spent and requiring that he stopped so you could breathe. But you couldn’t fight the pout, nor could you argue with the desire that he’d stirred up with his fingers alone. 

“Just your fingers?”

“I promise, and you know a chivalrous hero never breaks a promise.” 

He hadn’t yet, and that has you nodding while leaning in to kiss him. The grin on his face is nothing short of victorious, his fingers finding their place between your folds and finding that your body had chosen long before you did. 

“Already wet, and you didn’t wear panties. I’d say you wanted to get fucked in the laundromat this morning.”

“My body knows that laundry soap means I’m about to get dicked down, that’s all.”

“Mhm. I’m sure my big muscles carrying both of the baskets in one trip had nothing to do with it.”

“You caught me.” Your hand coming up to grip one of those biceps when two fingers push into your wet pussy with ease only has him smirking, pushing his forehead to yours to ensure he didn’t miss a single indication of pleasure in your face. “I do love your big muscles, Eiji.”

“Yeah, I know. What do you want for lunch?” His fingers move inside you as he poses the question, thumb carefully grazing over your clit which has you gasping before you can answer. “ I don’t think ‘ah!’ is food, baby.”

Your witty counter is just a whispered “shut up”, as he’s bringing a third finger to join the other two and the feeling of the stretch has your mind buffering a bit. It’d been about a week since you and Eijiro had time like this, he’d been busy and your own work had picked up a bit - two tired bodies and exhausted minds did not make for real interest in sex. 

“Missed you, baby,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as his fingers continue their easy thrusts. “Missed you so much, I hate how much I’m working.”

“Missed you too, Eiji,” you murmur back, teeth catching his top lip as his fingers curl inside you. “But your work is important, I can handle the late nights and early mornings.”

“Not very chivalrous to leave a beautiful girl all alone in that big bed.” His thumb presses against your clit, his free hand holding your thigh open to keep his access unrestricted. “Needed her big strong hero to keep her warm, help her cum, and I was off being chivalrous to other people.”

His thumb lifts, and you try to follow but his hands keep you firmly planted in your spot at the table. This wasn’t the time to tease, but you knew he wouldn’t risk dragging this out while you were in public, it was too dangerous for that. 

“I’d get on my knees for you right now if I could.” His whisper is heavy with his own need, a hiss escaping when your free hand cups the bulge in his shorts. “Baby.”

“It’s not breaking a promise if I ask, right?” your offer has him pulling back so he could properly look at you with pupils blown, lips parted - the picture of needy perfection, swallowing in anticipation when you whisper: “Please fuck me, Eijiro.”

You trusted that he wouldn’t agree if there was even a chance of being caught on camera. He was in the top ten, there was too much to lose in a scandal like this. So you knew it was safe when he nods, but you also knew that the excitement might end up being too much for him. 

His hands are only slightly shaky as he pushes his shorts down just enough to free his length, and you’re thankful that your shorts only needed to be pushed to the side to allow him to line himself up with your dripping core since you didn’t want to have to scramble for them should someone come in. 

Even with the prep; after two weeks without him, the stretch to accommodate feels insane. Maybe it’s the environment and the risk making you tense,which in turn was making your gummy walls akin to a vice around your sweet boyfriend, but you know by the look on his face that he’s not going to last long this time around - but he’d always deliver.

“Need a minute,” he mumbles, his hands gripping your hips as your hands carefully come up to hold his cheeks. “Can’t even begin to explain how fucking great you feel right now.” 

“Just keep that quirk in check, big guy,” you whisper, earning a breathy laugh from your lover at the reminder as his hands give you a gentle squeeze. Those hands were always gentle when they touched you, holding your hips at just the right angle as he started to move inside you. The pressure of his fingertips was just right, his hips meeting yours in borderline frantic thrusts with one goal: get off before getting caught in the act. Your hand finds itself on the back of his head, fingers interwoven in the soft red locks as he kisses along your jawline. Gentle nips are soothed by softer kisses, sweet nothings whispered in between while you relish in the attention you’re getting from your beloved.

And the whole time he’s talking. Whispering to you how much he loves you, how wonderful you are, how good you feel, how badly he can’t wait to get you home and do this all over again all day until he has to stop. It’d been too long, he’d missed you and your body so much, he never wanted to go that long without you again. 

“Baby, baby, fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as the grip on your hips grew tighter. The pace of his thrusts becomes uneven, one hand moving from your hip so he could rub at your clit to push you towards his desired end. “You’re so fucking good, gonna cum for me? Gonna cum so I can give you mine?”

You can only nod, your own hand tightening in his hair to keep him close while he fucks into you. You can hear the back of the table you’re perched on banging against the washing machines behind you, but you can’t hear the words tumbling from your lips into his shoulder as the coil in your gut continues to tighten. 

“That’s it, baby, please please cum. Always look so pretty when you do.” His mumbles into your neck only push you closer, your heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears the only thing that you could focus on as your legs tighten around his hips. You’re biting into his shoulder when you finally topple over that edge, the release desperately needed and has your toes curling as his hips still against yours and your senses are flooded with a different warmth. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, releasing his hair and gently massaging at his scalp to try and soothe whatever ache might have been left from your grip. “Needed that, baby. Needed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Pretty girl needed her big strong hero.” Your confirmation has him grinning into your neck, leaving a gentle kiss on your skin before he’s pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Let's get cleaned up, baby. Wanna sit or come with me to the bathroom?”

“I’ll sit.” 

He nods as he pulls out, tucking himself back into his shorts before leaving you with a kiss to your nose to go to the bathroom. You only sit for a second before you’re turning back to face where he was still heading to the bathroom. 

“There was a bathroom all along!?"

[rottiens]

RIGHT it’s so frustrating 😭 it’s a horrible feeling. people look at me like i’m mad when i tell them i don’t like the heat/summer 😵‍💫 it’s just such and overwhelming feeling, that’s the best way i can describe it.

yes! i agree, it’s lovely to watch it from my window, but when i have to be out in it for ages, and my hands get sore bcs they are cold, i just wanna come back home 😭

it is! everything is just so fuzzy, when i watch a show or movie, for example. i really struggle to read the subtitles bcs they are just so blurry 😭 so i’m hoping i can get something sorted out soon!

and thank you sm ! i’ll make sure to be careful<3 i can read close up, but it has to be quite close. it’s when it’s a little further away i start to struggle 🤔 oh yeah i’ve heard of those! i’ve never tried audiobook, but i’ve heard lots of good things about it, so i’ll have to take a look. thank you!

aww thank you! me too 🤍 i went on the swings with her and i can’t stay on them as long as i used too, i get dizzy and tired within like 10 minutes now 😭

ah, so i’m not alone with the caramel, huh? it’s deff not as easy as i thought it was gonna be, and i too haven’t touched it since, but i will deff try again! :3 and thank you! you’re so right, it’s a lot of trial and error, we’ll never learn if we don’t make mistakes 🤝 i’m glad to hear that, thank you, and hopefully i will get better too! i bet you make absolutely delicious dishes 😋

aww thank you sm! i gladly take the hug and send you one back<3 on nooo, i’m so sorry to hear that, it’s really frustrating when that happens 😭 i’m glad you managed to get it going and back on again though!

good luck, good luck! i hope everything goes smoothly, and exactly! having a positive outlook on life attracts positive things:) i hope you’ve had a wonderful day, and i hope tomorrow will be just as lovely for you too! 🤍

i think calling it overwhelming is the more correct word :( it puts me in such a bad mood, i just hate it. at least you can cover yourself from the cold with coats, scarves etc but tell me what do i do about the heat if i can't stand to be in comfortable clothes/shorts etc. no thank you

today it started raining and i got terribly wet (now i'm sneezing) and all i could think about was this conversation >:( i love the rain but it's so annoying when you're outside and it starts raining

and audiobooks >> are very good, I hope you give them a try because I am not exaggerating when I tell you they have changed my life. Plus I feel like I can be more productive, I just listen to them when I'm cooking or doing something else that doesn't require so much attention

and speaking of dishes 🤭 yesterday i made chipotle style burritos and ngl they were not as good as i thought lskd the sauce was so so good, but it's like i told you, it's all about failing and trying again, so even though i was a little disappointed i plan to try again. I cooked shrimp today and they are one of my favorites, I made them in garlic and cream and chefs kiss, I still have a few left over that I plan to make later in the week.

thank you so much for all the nice wishes <3 💋 now I'm just looking forward to read this weekend and relax and enjoy myself on my brother's birthday, the rest of responsibilities I'll be piling up for Monday lol I hope you can enjoy your weekend too my dear.

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 2

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ Oral M receiving, daddy kink, someone walks in

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Two

The light streaming in through the window woke you up. You curled up in the soft silk sheets, listening to Hannibal’s hums coming from the bathroom. Deciding there wasn’t much more to do than doze, you did just that, taking your time to enjoy your Monday morning. His bed was much softer than the hand me down one you kept at home. You really could lay here forever.

It wasn’t until the bed dipped that you opened your eyes. He was all ready dressed and groomed to the nines. The navy sweater and grey trousers seemed as homey as the man allowed himself to be.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted.

“Good morning, darling.” Hannibal cupped your face gently, smiling when you leaned into his touch. “It’s marvelous to see you so relaxed, it’s not a sight I get to see often. You’re divine.”

“Devine,” you scoffed in disbelief, “I haven’t had a glimpse of it yet, but I’m sure I look nothing less than a wreck.”

Hannibal’s thumb stroked your jaw, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “When it’s my fault you look so utterly debauched, I can’t lie and say my pride doesn’t play a factor.”

“There it is,” you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you dropped a kiss to his hand, “Always taking pride in everything you do. However, much to your dismay, I’m going to have to destroy your masterpiece. A shower does sound perfect right now.”

“Of course, I took the liberty of running a bath for you.”

“Sweet man,” you smiled fondly at him.

Bringing you closer he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. As always, he left you wanting more. This time though, you didn’t chase after him. The night of fun was done. All that was left was the goodbye to wrap up the event completely. Some part of you wanted to push that time back.

You hummed lightly, “You enjoy making it hard to not miss you.”

“All the sweeter when we reunite.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He tapped your cheek playfully, “Take your bath. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

Getting out of bed, you stretched. Hannibal’s fingertips ghosted along your spine. “From the looks of it, you’d be happier to help.”

“Simply admiring… You truly are a thing of beauty.” he squeezed your hip before taking his hands away, “I’ll leave some of my things for you to wear on the bed.”

Walking into the bathroom, you were taken by the soft scent of nearly familiar perfumes you’d wear, his cologne lingered ever so slightly. A perfect mix of the two. Looking in the mirror, you surveyed the wreckage. Runny mascara, smudged over lipstick, and rather large hickies scattered across your body did make you look like the definition of debauched. The neck didn’t have as much damage, but covering the few there would still be a pain. So much for keeping things hidden from others. Grabbing the pack of makeup wipes on the counter, you started cleaning up knowing you’d find it to be too much of a chore after the bath.

It was welcoming when you finally got into the still warm bath. Hot water made you relax further as your body let go of the last bit of tension it held. The products seemed to match the ones you usually used, if not make yours seem like cheap dupes. Your lip quirked at that realization, the gentleman seemed to have had ulterior motives after all.

You took your time washing up, deciding time to relax was sparse so you may as well take advantage of the small time frame you did have. A soft knock at the door pulled you back to the present. “Afraid I drowned?” You asked teasingly as the door opened.

Hannibal offered a quiet chuckle as he walked over and perched on the side of the tub, “Asleep more like.”

You didn’t bother hiding yourself. He’d probably be able to draw you from memory by now if you were being honest. “I do have a question.”

“What is it, darling?”

You gestured to the soaps, “Did you have any plans in particular for our night?”

“Not exactly. The night ended perfectly- you wouldn’t mind me saying-” Hannibal tapped your chin affectionately when you smiled, “but there wasn’t anything other than pure intentions when I purchased them. The scent reminded me of you and I thought if you drank too much or there was a storm, those kinds of things, it would be good to have something for you to use. Sending you out into possible dangers was never something left to chance. You’d be safer with me.”

“Ever the good host,” you said, taking his word for it, “Thank you for thinking of me, Hannibal.”

“Always.” Hannibal rolled up his sleeves, moving to sit behind you. “Lean back for me.”

You turned to look at him questioningly, “What are you doing?”

“I find it very important to take care of my partners just as much after. You didn’t give me much of a chance last night. While I’m here, I may as well make myself useful.”

Allowing him to turn you forward again before he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. You sighed heavily as he massaged the shampoo in, his fingers working magic. “You took care of me,” you argued, “Asked me what I wanted and gave it to me. I didn’t want anything else.”

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you,” he stated, running some water through your hair, “I like to make sure nothing was too much or that you’re not telling me if it was.”

“I’m as good as I’ve been in a long time. Really. If I hadn’t wanted something to happen I would have stopped you. Though, if I had known things would have ended like this I would have stopped by when we had more time. Testing before winter break would have been all that much easier.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t be of service earlier,” he mused. “A difficult time that must have been for my sweet girl. Poor thing.”

The urge to sink into the water was strong as you felt the smallest bit of pride at the endearment paired with an equally small bout of jealousy that you shared it with his other partners. It was snuffed out quickly. Perhaps you’d entertain this for a while, but it wouldn’t last. He liked a life that was above and usually too stiff compared to your own. The pair of you weren’t meant to work long term and that was fine. A simple passing thing between friends was the most this would be.

-

Things went back to business as usual after that night. There weren't any intense feelings or need for Hannibal. There wouldn’t be any time to entertain the idea even if they had popped up. Not with this insane work piled on top of you and the final test you needed to study up on. The most you had seen him was in passing or when he’d drop off a meal every so often. Though you wouldn’t lie and say your mind hadn’t found itself wandering every so often.

There was nothing you could do about that, so instead you took shifts, grading work then studying. Rinse and repeating the cycle as long as you could handle it. Your head was pounding before you knew it, but all of this needed to be done. A little bit longer, you reminded yourself as you took a couple headache pills.

The buzzing of your phone vibrating on the desk startled you. “Hi, dad,” you sighed, stuck with this particular pain.

“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”

Pretty girl, you scoffed inwardly. You had to give him credit- at least he was pretending to be interested this time. That was rare. “Nothing much. Work. School. The usual. It’s been heavy lately.”

“Yeah, of course, things get like that. So listen, your mom and I are running real low late-“

“I already told you I wasn’t any good for money. I’m barely making ends meet as it is… I already sent you the last $600 I could,” you rested your head in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what the fuck do we send you to that school for,” he shouted, “It’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna make anything of yourself. All you do is waste fucking time. Everything we do for you and you just take it all for granted. What type of selfish bitch of a kid doesn’t try to help out her parents?”

“Yeah, dad, I take everything for granted. Putting myself through school should have been a breeze. Juggling school and two jobs? Simple fucking shit right? You should know, right? Wait… you couldn’t even raise your kid could you?” You snapped the stress getting to you. “Why the hell do you always do this to me?”

No response. He hung up. The truth of the matter seemingly too much for him. No. That was too much credit. He knew you wouldn’t send him anything. Try again some other time. Sighing you set the phone down. Your throat felt like it was closing and your head was pounding. A couple tears fell, soon followed by a quiet sob. You didn’t want anyone to see, but the stress was getting to you. Try as you might, you weren’t made of stone.

You hadn’t noticed when Hannibal had walked in for a usual evening check up. “Darling girl,” his accented voice was laced with worry as he walked toward you, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal crouched near your chair as he wiped away your tears.

“Everything went to my head. It’s nothing. I’m okay,” you swallowed thickly, as you attempted to stop the crying and sniffling, not meeting his eye just yet.

Hannibal grabbed your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing more?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, giving him a slight smile, “Just school and a headache. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

He looked you over, not believing you but unwilling in prodding you further. “It seems a break is in order.”

“I can’t, Hannibal,” You gestured to the papers and books around the desk, “The sooner I’m done with all this the better. I just want to go home.”

Hannibal started to pick up your things, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time. “We’ll go to my office, you’ll eat, I’ll grade the work and ask you questions. Follow me.” Before you can get a word in, he turned heel, leaving you to quickly scramble behind him.

The office had the same comforting feel his home did. Though you weren’t sure many besides you felt comfort in his presence. Hannibal Lecter was by all means an intimidating man, even when you did feel like you were close to him. Closer now, you corrected thinking about the fading bruises under your shirt and the sweater he had let you borrow that you had yet to return. Still there was something about his presence that invoked a feeling of calm in you, even with that spike of something questionable. He seemed to always have all the answers and knew exactly what to do with any situation.

“Here,” Hannibal placed a Tupperware and drink on your side of the desk, “You really shouldn’t be spreading yourself so thin, love. It isn’t good for such a delicate thing.”

“I’m hardly delicate.” You grabbed the food giving him a grateful smile. “I’ve got it all handled. It’s just finals and everything stacked up. The future. I stumbled a bit, is all.”

Hannibal sat on his side and started shuffling through your papers. “Nonetheless, I wish you didn’t strain yourself so much.”

“Not all our days can be a nice weekend together,” you pecked at the salad, as much as you wanted to grab some papers off the stack you knew he would never allow it, “Life is still as frustrating as ever.”

“What did they say?” Hannibal asked, nipping the problem at the bud. If you wouldn’t start the conversation he would.

You sighed, “Something along the lines of ‘waste of time’ and ‘selfish bitch’ really wasn't the worst thing he's ever said. I was just already at my endpoint. I’m pretty sure if I dropped my pen I would have had a similar reaction.”

“Being at your end doesn’t justify mistreatment.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I don’t have it in me to argue anymore. Deaf ears and all that. What’s the point?”

“The point is making it known that you won’t tolerate that behavior.”

“I’m just tired and disappointed. A part of me is considering just going into the world on my own. The only family that really cares has passed on, what’s the point of hoping my parents would ever consider changing.” You coughed lightly, clearing your throat. This was too much of a therapy session for your taste. “I’ve already made it up in my head that I’m going to wait a year before getting back in school. You know, save any penny I can. These past four years even with aid and scholarship money has been hell. I’m going to be 24 and there’s still just so much to do.”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Hannibal shook his head, “The uncertainty in those years is unmatched.”

“It’s hard to imagine you uncertain of anything. You seem to always know exactly what to do.”

Hannibal scoffed lightly, “Only because time has granted me certain wisdoms. When I was younger I was lucky enough to appeal to someone with my artistic talent and stories of my past. Though I’d like to think it was the former that earned me my scholarship. I may not have had the exact struggles you did, but we’ve all been through situations we needed to push past. It comes in time. Once you get there, you’ll go through life with grace.”

“Well, I don’t have any reservations about using my past. Would you be my mentor?” You joked, for the most part.

“A five year forward request,” he mused, “Are you certain you’d enjoy me that much as a mentor?”

“Someone is gonna have to teach me the ropes,” you shrugged, “We’re more than comfortable with each other and I already know how pleasurable time with you can be, why not learn a couple of things from your infinite wisdom?”

His lip quirked, “Glad to know your thoughts are nothing less than wholesome.”

“Only the purest.”

You ate your dinner as he asked questions. It was a bit unfair, probably, you knew he had helped form the test. Then again, you knew your boss and it was more than likely all of Hannibal’s work. So this little run was sure to be a preview of what to expect. Still, the questions he asked were far from simple, despite how much you studied. Sometimes a raised brow would tell you, you needed to think again. Other times you’d get a soft praise thrown your way that would immediately make you think of when he was against you.

“A few more for me, darling girl. You’re doing so well.”

Your face heated up as you remembered the exact moment he said something nearly identical.

Hannibal looked at you over a paper, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re looking a bit distracted, are you alright?”

“You know what you did, jerk.”

“Do I?” He laughed.

You shook your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Hannibal continued grading, rattling off questions off the top of his head. You mind however, wandered. Answering his questions absentmindedly, more preoccupied with memories than the matter at hand. The way his hands felt. His breath against your chest as he chased his high. The gentleness the morning after as he helped you into his clothes, giving you a last kiss before breakfast. A lingering regret at not getting to thank him back properly. He would be the perfect distraction now that you thought of it.

“I won’t help you if you prefer to daydream.”

“I wouldn’t be daydreaming if you didn’t decide to help me in the first place.”

“Touché.”

“Think I’m all done studying. I’m tired of it,” you sighed, stretching, “I want to do something else.”

Hannibal looked at you, brow raised. “What’s that sweet girl?”

You shook off some nerves. As much as the two of you had already done, he was still an intimidating man. His eyes followed as you stood and walked around the desk. Hannibal brought your hand up to his lips. You trailed it along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that just started coming in, buying yourself some time to steady yourself. A raised brow questioned what you’d do next, but otherwise he leaned into your touch.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. For how good you are to me.”

“I don’t expect anything in return,” he assured.

“Yeah, I know,” you sunk to your knees in front of him, tracing your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly, looking up at him, “but I want to take care of you too.”

He toyed with a strand of your hair, looking almost bored as he leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t necessary, little one, I enjoyed watching you.” Still there was a glint of something in his eye that told you he was interested, merely teasing with the show he just wanted something more from you.

You bit your lip, pondering at what he had deemed missing. The title. A thing that had slipped past your lips embarrassingly but one he had used with stupor throughout the night. Hands settling on his knees, you pushed them apart so you could settle there more comfortably. A pout, “Please, daddy, I’ve wanted to since we met.”

“Always an eager plaything,” he sighed checking the clock on the wall, “I suppose daddy can make some time for his girl.”

That was enough for you to start undoing his belt. Despite the bored act, his half hard cock betrayed him and told you exactly how much he had been interested. You palmed him through his boxers, he didn’t give you the pleasure of hearing anything from him, but that’s alright you didn’t mind earning it. Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you pulled him out of the boxers. Leaning back on your knees you took it in, unsure if you could fit the length of it in completely.

Hannibal took in your hesitation. Using a finger he tilted your head up to look at him in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t okay with it now. A change of mind is more than alright.”

“No. It’s not that I want to,” you licked your lips, as if to prove how okay you were you wrapped your hand around him, thumb tracing a prominent vein, “I was just wondering if it would fit all the way in.”

He let out an amused huff, shaking his head, “I’m sure you’ll try your best, ridiculous girl.”

Leaning in you pressed a kiss to the head. Just a little more time to work up the courage. You kissed along the shaft, mapping out every vein. Your tongue traced its way back up, catching a taste of precome that had beaded on the head. An encouraging hand threaded itself in your hair, never pushing for more than you were willing to give.

A knock at the door, interrupts the scene.

“A moment,” Hannibal calls out to the person. “Get under the desk,” he said as he started to hide away any evidence that he was with anyone. Your appearance wasn’t completely ruined, not to his taste at least, but the messed up lipstick and slightly ruined hair wouldn’t take much mental work for someone to come to the correct conclusion.

Taking his instruction you got under the desk as he fixed his own appearance, suit jacket over his arm to hide himself. Walking over to the door, “Mr. Henderson,” he greeted, pleasantly, “Please, come in.”

“Hannibal, sorry about stopping by so late,” you heard the door close as the two walked over.

“Nonsense. If anything, the company is welcomed.” Hannibal took his seat, pulling his chair in close, to make sure you were hidden away.

“I was actually going to see if I could convince you to stay.”

Mischief sparked as you grew bored with their droning conversation. Thankfully he had decided to get rid of his belt fully. It didn’t take much to free him again. He spread his legs, attempting to give you the most space possible under the cramped desk. You pumped him in your hand, getting him back to how you had him. The other hand tugged softly at his balls. You wouldn’t be able to put him in your mouth properly with this angle. Instead you satisfied yourself with sucking on the sides of his cock.

“The students adore you,” the other man countered whatever Hannibal had said, “Honestly your classes are killing Jacob’s with every exam.”

“I take great pride in my students. They are an extension of myself. How well they do is a direct reflection of my skill as a teacher,” he sighed, “I have a couple of people in mind that could fill my roll, I’ll ask people to see who’s interested.”

“Still Jacob’s is slacking too much, I may take away his student aid privileges. I see her around here more often than I ever see him.”

You gave a particularly hard suck to a seemingly sensitive spot as his hips had stuttered ever so slightly. No evidence of any misconduct came from his voice as he said, “Oh her? She is a very good girl. Motivated. Never complains about a thing.”

You felt Hannibal throb against your mouth. Taking a break you leaned your head on Hannibal’s thigh, as fun as it would to mess with him more, you knew he took great pride in his social image. Besides, you had wanted Hannibal’s full attention anyway. His hand came down to your hair, subtly showing that he was still paying attention to you to the best of his abilities.

They talked a while longer, before Henderson finally left. Hannibal had pulled out a stack of papers, motioning like he was going to work on grading, and politely asked him to lock the door as he left. When it was clear he pushed his chair away from the desk. You made your way out smiling at him.

“Someone seems very happy with themselves.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“But did you ask permission?” Hannibal asked as worked himself lazily.

You faltered slightly under his gaze, “Well...no.”

“And do you think you deserve any type of reward for that stunt?”

“...I hope so.”

“I’ll forgive it,” he decided, “only because you’re so eager and we never set ground rules. But now it’s on my terms.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded obediently, not wanting to receive one of Hannibal's punishments just yet.

Hannibal used your hair to pull you closer. You stumbled on your knees catching yourself on his thighs. “Since you were so unsure if you could fit in daddy earlier, after that little stunt, I’m sure you’re feeling better now. Aren’t you?”

The hand in your hair pushed you down. You closed your mouth around the tip. Hannibal groaned quietly, letting you work your way down. Bobbing your head you took more of him deeper every time, but those last two inches were proving difficult. Gripping your hair, he pulled you off of him.

His breath was coming in quick pants, brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you need help, darling?”

“I can’t fit it daddy.” It came out in a breathless whine.

“Yes, you can. Be a good little mouth and let me do the work.”

Again he pushed you onto his cock. This time he took control. His hand kept you in place as he thrusted his hips up. Without the hesitation you had, he fit himself in quickly. Grinding into your mouth he let you choke around it for a while before pulling you up for air.

“See?” He choked out as he used you again, “Fucking perfect mouth… Daddy’s good girl… taking care of me like she asked.”

His grunted praises and moans were enough to excuse the tear prickling your eyes. Over and over he used your mouth to it’s extent. Seeming to enjoy it most when you did choke on him. Hannibal stopped before he came. Pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap. Wiping away the stray tears that had fallen.

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed your cheek.

“You haven’t finished.” You caught your breath as you curled into his chest. His cologne comforted you. The increasingly familiar scent carved a special place in you.

“I’ll finish later,” he promised, dropping another kiss onto your head, “At the moment, I want to make sure you’re alright. I got carried away.”

“I’m not porcelain, Hannibal,” you intertwined your fingers with his, “I like it when you’re in charge… It gives me a chance to not think of anything.”

“Even so these situations require a lot of trust from your partner.”

You shrugged, as you decided to be honest, “At the moment you seem to be the only person I trust. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I can’t see you ever doing that.”

That night Hannibal had taken you home. You received the same treatment you had received the first night you stayed at his house. Mostly you thought it was an apology of some sort for treating you roughly in his office. By some good grace both of you had classes later in the day, allowing you to enjoy the softer side of Hannibal in the morning again.

A new sweater of his joined the one that resides on your futon. You hadn’t thought twice about packing them away when you emptied your apartment out.

-

Life in New York was eventful to say the least. Different but fun. It had been six months since you had graduated. Your friend from high school shared an even shabbier apartment together. You made a couple friends. Picked up jobs at a bar and a bookstore.

“You’re not any fun,” Alex complained as she adjusted her makeup, “You never want to go out with me.”

“I’m tired,” you complained. “Anyway, why would I want to go to a bar when I work at one?”

“To wreak hell on someone that’s stuck in your usual gig.”

“Have fun with the guys.”

She attempted to pull you off the couch a couple more times to no avail. In truth you were happy to have a moment of peace. All honesty she was the driving force in you actually living your life and not just working the entire time. You really did love her for all of that and the experiences you had. However there were times for breaks to be had from everything. And tonight was one of them.

You showered, got dressed in a sweater and shorts, heated up some leftovers. Throwing on a bad 80’s horror flick, you spent your night in splendor. A break was rare and you were gonna use your relaxation time to its extent. Sleep overtook you sometime in the night, only to be woken up by the annoying shrill sound of your phone.

“Al, baby, I love you so damn much, but if you’re gonna bitch at me about not going out tonight. I just might be tempted to murder you,” you muttered sleepily, “I could get away with it.”

“Sweet girl, is that any way to speak to your friends?” A voice you hadn’t heard in a while asked, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Hannibal,” you said lamely, slightly ashamed that that was the first thing he heard from you in months. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… It’s been a while.”

“It has been,” he agreed, “In fact, I called to ask if you would like to come to a dinner party.”

You looked at the clock, noting just how late it had been. “You called at two in the morning to ask me to a dinner party?”

“I’ve been busy and you didn’t leave an address for an invitation. It was… spur of the moment.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed, deciding to be the one to voice it, “Yeah, I’d love to go over.”

“Are you planning on staying with me?”

You sighed dramatically, “Suppose I can give a lonely old man some company. What, you couldn’t find anyone as entertaining as me in Baltimore?”

“I’ve got specific tastes.”

“Is that right?”

Alex walked in, the last part of the conversation hitting her ears and the alcohol in her system making her louder. “Is that the daddy? Does he know he’s ruined men for you? Ugh, can you get him over here to loosen you up? I’d appreciate it that so much.”

“I never said ruined, I just sa-“ you realized Hannibal was still on the phone, “Just please, go take a shower, I’ll make you anything you want to eat if you promise to stay quiet.”

Surprisingly she complied, only saying egg sandwich with cheese and bacon in response.

“Ruined?”

“Couldn’t let that skate by?”

“You’re the one talking about me.”

You coughed. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve got specific taste too. Just something happened with someone and I don’t know, I couldn’t get into it that same way. Like with you. They needed me to tell them exactly how… It was just awkward. It wasn’t satisfying. They were nice though.”

“You compare my experience to their experience inexperience,” he deduced. “You enjoy knowing I’ve got everything under control.”

You tried to shake away the blush. “So it seems we’re stuck in similar positions.”

“We are.”

“Hannibal,” you heard someone call out, “When were you thinking of joining us? We didn’t bother you so much you had to leave us that long.”

He asked him for a moment.

“Seems like someone wants your attention,” you commented.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Just friends having fun right? It would be hypocritical considering I just told you of my night with someone else. As long as it’s nothing serious with whoever that was, we’re fine.”

“They’re nothing. Someone’s too loud nephew. In fact I think he’s rather rude. You know I can’t stand people like that.”

“You’ll survive. Get home safe.”

“I’ll send you the directions in a moment. Have a goodnight little one.”

“‘Night daddy,” the long unused term of endearment fell from your lips easily.

“‘Night daddy,” Alex sighed dreamily from the bathroom door, “God, is the dick really that good? How could it be?”

You hung up the phone. “Can you please not do that next time? He’s really particular about things.”

She raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, there. He can handle a little joke at his expense when he’s already been down your throat. Now where’s my sandwich?”

“I’m serious Al.” You sighed when you got up from the couch to get to work on your promise. “He makes me feel like I need to be all proper.”

“You’re fine, doll. A dime if I’ve ever seen one. I’m not gonna ruin this for you, if he randomly decided to call you this late,” she took a seat on the counter, taking the water you handed her gratefully, “Do you want that to be a long term thing?”

“Nah,” you threw the bread into the toaster, “I couldn’t live his life. Sure, I like him and I do think he’s fun to hang around. But it just feels like something that will simmer down eventually. We’ll probably meet up a couple more times and it’ll be done. It’s not like we do anything more than end up in bed and sweet talk.”

“I’m telling you, we’d be set if you asked him to be your sugar daddy. Please ask him to take care of you and be his call girl.”

“How about you?” You asked, changing the topic, “Any pretty girls?”

“This one chick at work,” she shook her head, “Fucking goddess of a woman, LN, I’m telling you. I got it bad. She’s got me waiting for her with her coffee orders in the morning like some kind of obedient little puppy.”

“You know her coffee order.”

“Exactly!”

“How’s the commitment issues?”

“I’m gonna have to fucking work through them. Unlike someone, I think I wanna try out the long term thing.”

“Hey!” You cracked the eggs into the oil, “I’m just not up for it right now.”

“Work him out of your system. We’re supposed to be having fun this year.”

You sighed, “I’m trying.”

“I’m telling you we find you a decent lay. You won’t need to be fucking around with that guy.” Your phone chimed. Alex grabbed it off the counter. “The devil works fast doesn’t he? Address and day of the party. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Says he’ll buy you a cute little number.”

“No, tell him I got it.”

“Thank you, daddy. I’ll make it worth your wild. Wink. Send.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I still think he’s ugly,” she shrugged, tossing your phone over, “May as well get a cute dress out of sleeping with him.”

“He’s not ugly. I’ve seen the people you’ve brought home,” You scoffed, handing over the plate.

“Reggie is a fun time! Fuck I miss Reggie.”

“Work chick,” you reminded her.

“Right right.” She argued before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Fine, we’ve both had our questionable older partner moments. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.”

“Still never called her mommy and that’s a win in my books.”

“I should have never told you that,” you laughed, “I fucking hate you man.��

She pinched your cheek affectionately, “You had your chance to get rid of me. The return policy ran out. You’re stuck. Congratulations.”

“How long until you expire?”

Alex pretended to count it through. “We’re looking at at least 50 years more, if we’re lucky.”

You hummed, “Are you accounting for possible sickness or accidents?”

“I’m immortal for 50 years in between. No arguments at this time please.”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @charc0al-grey

[hstyleshoney]

hey! could u maybe write something where h notices Y/N is distant after he comes back from tour? like she doesn’t feel stable in the relationship anymore bc he’s always away or something like that but he doesn’t want to break up. lmao this is weirdly specific but I really hope u get over your writers block <3

This has been in my drafts for a couple months now. Finally had time to finish it. Sorry it took so long. Hope you like It! <3 

WC: 5.3K // angst, fluff 

April.

Harry is tired.

He’s only been back in London for two days but he is completely drained. Mentally and physically. All he wants to do is snuggle down on the sofa with his girl and relax. He wants to hold her as close to him as humanly possible; feel her warmth and her smooth skin against his. He wants to spend all night just giggling away at nothing in particular with her because they’re both just so happy to be around one another again and whisper sweet nothings to her all night to let her know how much he missed her and loves her.

He has 21 days home before the next part of his tour kicks off - in Australia. He wants to make the most out of their time together before he has to leave again.

But something is wrong.

She is distant. She’s not letting him hold her, she hardly smiles when she sees him and she’s being off. It’s weird. Harry doesn’t like it.

He noticed it the second he arrived at her flat Monday night. She didn’t come running when he walked through the door. She didn’t talk non-stop for hours like she usually did when they had spent an excessive amount of time apart. She didn’t dig through his suitcase to get a look at all his latest purchases of clothes just because she loved fashion and got excited about all the designer items he owned. It was odd.

They didn’t even have sex.

Harry told himself it was probably just because it was late when he arrived and she was probably just tired. She’d be fine in the morning.

But she is still being as off with him as she was on Monday night, despite the fact that he has been back home in London for a couple days now. Harry doesn’t know what to do. Usually being back home with her brings him comfort and lets him relax after weeks on the road. Now it only has the opposite effect. It’s disheartening. He doesn’t understand it.

On Friday night they go out for dinner with a couple of friends of his. Harry hopes it will lift her spirits but she stays quiet for most of the evening. She is gloomy, not her usual self, and the twinkle in her eyes is missing. It’s awkward and when James shoots him a questioning look from across the table Harry knows that everyone has noticed that something is wrong.

Harry feels sick.

He is worried. Stressed. Anxious. Maybe even a tiny bit angry.

And he is afraid to ask her about it because he has a bad feeling about the whole thing. His gut is telling him that her lack of affection is because of him. He knows he has to ask her about it, but he is holding off for as long as he possibly can. Because asking her about why she is being distant makes it real and he is not ready for her to confirm his suspicions. He is still holding onto the small hope that her mood is because of something that happened at work or with her friends.

But she usually tells him everything and now she hasn’t said anything.

So the only explanation Harry can think of is that he is the reason for her low mood.

And he is not ready to hear it.

He knows her though. He knows she hates upsetting or disappointing others and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means neglecting her own thoughts and feelings until she’s too overwhelmed by it all. She has the kindest heart he has ever met; she is perhaps too kind for her own good.

Which is why he knows he has to ask her and get her to open up about whatever is going on in her head. For her sake but also for his own.  

The car ride back to his house after their dinner is, unsurprisingly, quiet and somewhat tense. Harry wants to ask her right there and then why she is being so off, but he also knows he won’t be able to focus on the road if he does. He can hardly focus enough as it is. So he stays quiet and glances over at her whenever he gets the chance, and his heart sinks from how sad she looks.

She doesn’t look at him once though and only rests her head against the window as she watches the other cars around them, picking at the skin around her nails; a sign Harry has learned means that she is either stressed or upset... or both.

Once they make it to his house reality kind of hits him like a ton of bricks and he is one hundred percent sure her mood is because of him now and he is anxious to find out the reason why that is and fearful of where the conversation might lead. What if he loses her? He is not sure his heart can take it.

But she lets him put a hand on her back as they walk into the house and it’s nice to have her close again, she smells so good, and he has to stop himself from falling into her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she tells him quietly when they get inside, avoiding eye contact, and swiftly disappears up the stairs before he gets the chance to ask her about anything. Harry almost calls her name to stop her but decides to give her a couple of minutes before he approaches her about the elephant in the room.

Also, he needs some time to get his own head together and prepare for whatever might be thrown his way. As scared as he might be there is also a frustration building up inside him from her shutting him out. He had been gone for almost three months and they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would’ve liked to. He had been looking forward to just coming home to her and getting a couple of weeks with her before continuing his tour.

There is a lump in his throat as he makes his way up the stairs. His palms are sweaty. His head is spinning. And he realises, for the first time in his life, that he is absolutely terrified about the possibility of losing someone. Her. He has been in love before. He has gone through break-ups. But none of them have made him feel like this. It’s like someone is suffocating him.

And the break-up hasn’t even happened yet. He doesn’t even know if it will happen. He just knows that the girl who has his whole heart in his hands is being distant and won’t talk to him after weeks apart. It’s not a good sign.

She is still in the bathroom when he comes upstairs. The door is open and he takes a few seconds to just watch her, leaning against the doorframe with a fond look on his face. He can’t take his eyes off her. Her hair is pushed back by her pink fuzzy headband and her face is free from all the makeup she had previously worn. She is beautiful, he thinks and closes his eyes for a second to savor the small moment.

It’s just so familiar. He has seen her get ready for bed a hundred times before and he never gets tired of it. It’s the simplest thing but it makes him feel home.

She feels like home.

And then she spots him by the door and a small squeal escapes her lips which brings him back. “Bloody hell Harry” she breathes out and puts a hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he replies and shoots her a weak smile.

“I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes and then the bathroom is all yours” she says and picks up one of her many skin care products to continue her routine. She speaks fast and avoids his gaze. Harry clears his throat awkwardly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was wondering if we could talk?”  

She freezes for a brief moment and Harry almost feels bad. Silence falls over them again and it’s all the confirmation he needs to know that whatever is going on has something to do with him. Harry is almost certain she’s going to tell him she’s too tired to talk or come up with another excuse, but eventually she nods.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods as well and tries to give her another small smile to ease the tension between them but it’s useless. The knot in his stomach weighs him down too much. “I’ll let you finish and you can just come find me, yeah?”

Harry waits for her in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed before standing up almost just as fast. Then he sits back down again. His throat feels dry and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest it feels like it might burst. He’s trying to come up with what to say to her but as soon as she walks in his mind goes completely blank. He wants to believe that he is wrong, that it’s just a big misunderstanding, but her sad eyes make it hard.

She looks so soft and small as she takes a seat next to him and Harry has to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms. It’s strange and he doesn’t understand why she is being so distant. Everything was fine between them before he left for his tour and as far as he knows nothing happened while he was away.

“Have I done something wrong?” he begins.

She sighs and looks down at her hands, still doing her best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry H,” she says and her voice cracks a little at the end. Harry feels sick again. “I know I've been acting weird. Distant. I’m sorry.”

“Will you please look at me?” he begs because he can’t stand her shutting him out like she is. It’s never happened before. So when she looks up at him with tears in her eyes both relief and pangs of agony washes over him. It kills him; fills him with worry. Harry doesn’t know how he is going to get through this. This wasn’t how he had planned his return home. Far from. “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” she tells him and swallows thickly.

Harry nods and tries to stop his head from spinning so much.

“And I love you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

There it is. He knew it was coming but hearing the words come out of her mouth is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. Silence falls between them just as heavy raindrops start to fall against the windowsill outside.

“Okay,” is all he can say.

“I just - I hate missing my best friend every single day.” A tear rolls down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away, taking a shaky breath. “I feel very alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Harry says and reaches out to take her soft hands into his, holding them tight. She gives him a sad smile and laces her fingers with his. He never wants to let go.

“I know,” she replies softly. “But it feels like I am. I come home to an empty flat, have dinner on my own and watch some stupid reality show to kill time. I can’t even call you whenever I want to because you’re on stage or busy with something else. I feel like I’m just constantly waiting for you. It feels impossible for us to build a life together.”

Harry wants to tell her it’ll change. That it’ll get better. That he’ll be better. But it’s a promise he can’t make because he’s leaving again, soon. He still has shows to do in Australia, North- and South America. He still has a tour to do - and hopefully more tours in the future as well.

And he loves his job. It’s his dream. He is so grateful for everything he gets to do.

But he has never hated his job as much as he does in that moment right there, and he hates himself for that too.

“I’m here now,” he says weakly and tightens his fingers around hers.

“Yeah, I know,” she croaks and when she cups his cheek in the hand he’s not holding Harry can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch. “But you’re leaving again, what happens then? We’ve been in the same time zone and country now for three months and barely had the chance to talk - what happens when you’re on the other side of the world?”

“I’ll make time for you. I promise,” Harry tells her and blinks away his own tears that are threatening to fall.

“But you won’t be here,” she replies sadly and pulls away from him. Harry feels cold as soon as her hands leave his. He wants to scream but there is no air in his lungs. He’s losing her and he doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He’s helpless.

And when a strangled sob escapes her he thinks his heart might shatter into a million pieces. It’s the worst sound he has ever heard and it kills him knowing it’s because of him. “I hate this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m being so fucking selfish.”

“Stop,” he huffs and angles his body so he can move himself closer to her. Desperate to fix whatever is happening between them before it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles and bows her head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to make you feel bad because I know how much you love what you do and I would never ask you to stop. I love watching you on stage, it’s my favorite thing in the world... but I just- I just don’t know if I’m happy like this. I don’t like the person I become when you’re away.”  

“What can I do?” Harry begs even though he knows there’s not a lot he can do right now. “I’m not losing you.” He takes her hands into his again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too Harry, so much.” Her voice trembles as she speaks and Harry feels his whole stomach drop as the next few words fall from her lips. He’s sure he is going to pass out. “Sometimes love isn’t enough though, is it?”

“What are you saying?” he whispers as he tightens his hold on her hands. She looks up at him, her glossy eyes meeting his green ones, and Harry can no longer hold back his own tears.

“I don’t know yet,” she admits, her voice low and thick. Harry tries to think of something to say that will change her mind but his head is swirling with a million different things all at once. He can’t think straight. He only knows he refuses to lose her. He won’t lose her. So he tells her that again.

“I’m not losing you.”

That night they fall asleep on different sides of the bed with their backs facing each other and Harry might just break.

.

May 19th.

Harry Styles ❤️ 11:34 AM We just landed in Australia. I wish you were here. I love you. xxx

.

May 31st.

Harry Styles ❤️ 5:47 PM Last show is done. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Let’s talk then. xxx

.

June.  

She is tired.

The last three weeks have been brutal. Or, actually, the whole month has been brutal. Ever since she told Harry about her insecurities regarding their relationship she felt like her whole life had just fallen apart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Nothing.

She went to work and when the day was over she went straight home and watched every episode she could find of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ to numb her mind. Her co-workers express their worry when they see her come to work with the same outfit for the fourth day in a row, greasy hair and big dark circles under her eyes. They tell her to take a few days off.

But she doesn’t.

Because she needs work as a distraction. She can’t just sit at home and think about everything that happened between her and Harry before he left for Australia. The morning after their talk they hardly said a word to each other and she could see that he was hurt. It killed her knowing it was because of her.

It was just that the European tour had been harder on her than she ever could've imagined. Other than the London shows she had only been able to go to the one in Manchester and the one in Paris, but that was it. She couldn’t get more time off to go see him and whenever she finished work at the end of a long day and had time to call him he was already on stage or about to be.

They hardly spoke and it made her sad. The reality of how different their lives were slapped her hard in the face that first leg of his tour. So hard she couldn’t bring herself to be happy when he came back home to London, because she knew he was leaving again.

She figured that maybe she just needed some time to get used to having him around again and that things would go back to how they usually were after a day or so. They didn’t. Instead all she could think about was the fact that he was leaving again and how every hour that passed was an hour of their time together that was gone.

She had been stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

When he asked her to talk she knew that she would no longer be able to keep things to herself. It all just came crashing down.

She hasn’t seen Harry in almost a month now and her whole body is aching for his touch again. At the same time, she knows she has no one but herself to blame for her heartache.

She loves him. She loves him so fucking much.

She just doesn’t know if she can handle the distance. She doesn’t know if she can handle only speaking to him through text messages because of the time difference and/or because their schedules don't add up. She doesn’t know if she can handle all the rumors circulating on social media whenever he has been seen with someone she doesn’t recognize. She’s become jealous and she doesn’t like it.  

But she loves him.

She knows in her heart that he is The one.

And maybe that’s why she is so fucking terrified of him leaving, because what if he never comes back to her?

She’s not sure she’s going to be able to handle it.

So when she told him she wasn’t sure if she could be with him anymore she did it so she could leave first, but then he looked at her like she had just crushed his entire soul. After spending every night for the last couple weeks replaying the moment over and over again in her head she realises she won’t ever be able to leave him. She doesn’t want to.

And now he is coming back again, after spending two weeks back home in Holmes Chapel with his family to clear his head and two weeks down under in Australia doing what he loves most, and she is still terrified.  Because he might show up and tell her he’s had enough of her games and leave with her heart.

She takes that Tuesday off from work and cleans her entire flat, anxiously waiting for Harry to show up. He texted her earlier to let her know he would arrive in London by noon and would be coming over, to which she only replied an ‘okay’ because she was overthinking and didn’t know what else to say.

They never officially said the words “we are over” so she has no idea if they were still together or broken up, and she didn’t want to say something that could be misinterpreted in any way.

Then she gets another text from him asking her if she could come over to him instead because he is too jet lagged and wants to just go home and have a shower. And she convinces herself it’s only an excuse from him. An excuse to get her to come over and get all her stuff she has left laying around his house the last year, so he can remove any traces of her ever being in his life.

She still tells him she’ll be there in an hour.

That hour ends up being one of the worst hours of her life. She’s an anxious mess as she tries to get ready and ends up spilling her coffee all over her shirt and the freshly mopped floor. Her favorite cup with a small dachshund painted on it, the one Harry got her after their first date when she told she was obsessed with dachshunds, falls to the floor and breaks in half. She has a mini breakdown over it all.

She’s also about two seconds away from running over an old lady by the crossroads leading up to Harry’s house.

Then when she arrives at Harry’s house she has forgotten the code to get through his gate. She has another breakdown thinking he has changed it because he doesn’t want her to know what it is anymore.

Turns out she only missed a number.

Before she knows she is knocking on his door and just stands there waiting for him to come let her in. Normally she wouldn’t knock and just waltz right in but it didn’t feel right this time. She isn’t sure if she is even allowed to anymore.

So she waits.

When Harry finally opens the door and she is face to face with him again she feels like she might actually collapse. He looks tired, eyes puffy and cheeks rosy, but he still smiles when he sees her. And even though he has his grey hoodie up she can still see the little hair clip on top of his head that’s holding back his damp curls from falling in his face.

“Hi,” she breathes out and clasps her hands together in front of her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her heart is beating painfully hard inside her chest.

“Hi,” Harry says and takes a step forward as if he is about to pull her into a hug, but he stops himself and takes a step back again. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity, just taking each other in, before Harry clears his throat and opens the door a little wider for her.  “Come in.”

As she passes him she catches a whiff of his perfume and it’s so familiar and calming that she forgets for  a moment that they’ve been in a downward spiral for the last month.

But she is quickly reminded of the situation when Harry awkwardly leads her to the lounge and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Her fingers tremble a little as she pushes a couple strands of hair behind her ear. The room is quiet and cold. The whole house smells like detergent and soap, it always did when he hadn’t been home for a while, and she hates it.

“So, um, how was Australia?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the bright colorful painting that hangs on the wall above Harry’s head and avoiding his green ones that are staring her down. She’s positive he can hear how fast her heart is beating.

“It was alright,” Harry answers and tilts his head forward a little, brows drawn together, as he tries to get her to focus on him rather than the painting behind him.

“Good,” she mumbles and takes a shaky breath, still avoiding his eyes. Harry sighs deeply and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This isn’t like them. Far from. She wants to crawl into his arms; wants to feel the comfort and safety he always brings her when he holds her. Her whole body is screaming for his touch again, but her head stops her - what if he didn’t want to hold her anymore?

“We can’t go on like this,” he tells her then and her blood instantly runs cold.

This is it.

Harry is going to tell her he can’t be with her anymore and it’s her own fault. She pushed him away.

“Okay,” she whispers. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and she is quick to blink them away before they fall. But her vision is still blurry. Her throat feels tight and dry. The room is closing on her and she has to wipe her clammy hands on her pants to make sure she’s still in her own body. A huge part of her wants to run, although she is not too sure her legs will carry her. This is what she gets for pushing him away though she supposes.

“I need to know if you’re leaving or not.”

She snaps her head in his direction as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“What?”

She’s not sure she’s heard him right.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry continues and a small curl falls out of his little hair clip as he shakes his head. “I need answers from you. These past few weeks - I can’t...  I need to know where we stand. I need to know if I’ve lost you.”

She blinks.

“Harry, I-“ She can't find her words. She had been so sure that he was going to tell her he was leaving her, that he was tired of her selfishness and wanted nothing more to do with her. Now her whole body is frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what Harry just told her. He looks worn out, sad, and she feels so incredibly stupid. Guilty. This mess is all her fault. “No.”

Harry inhales sharply through his nose and gives her a short nod.

“Alright.” His lips are pressed together, jaw tense, as he averts his gaze to something other than her face, refusing to look at her any longer.

“No Harry, I mean, you haven’t,” she is quick to say when she realises he had misunderstood her words. Her head is spinning. There is so much she needs to say but she doesn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t lost me. I didn’t think- I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?”

And just like that it’s all just too much. The last couple weeks washes over her as soon Harry looks at her again and she notices how glossy his eyes are. She’s overwhelmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry H,” she cries and hides her face in her hands, finally letting her tears spill over and run hot down her cheeks. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

She lets a sob rip from her throat and buries her face deeper into her hands, wishing she could just disappear. Guilt is eating away at her conscience knowing that Harry had walked around thinking she was leaving him while having to go out on stage and put on a good show for thousands of fans. She should’ve talked to him before he left. She should’ve replied to his texts. She feels like the worst fucking person in the entire world.

“Heey, noo, don’t cry.” Harry moves over to crouch down in front of her. His touch burns through the thick denim of her jeans when he puts his arms down on either side of her on the sofa, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her thighs. “Talk to me, Love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

“You’re not,” Harry says softly and gently pushes some of her hair away from her face, tapping her fingers lightly to get her to get her to remove her hands from her face and look at him again. When she peeks at him through her fingers she’s met by his small dimple. He takes the opportunity to carefully pry her hands away completely and holds them in his own. “There we go,” he murmurs. “S’just me. You can talk to me.”

“I’m scared,” she admits and runs her fingers over his rings. Harry frowns but doesn’t say anything, just lets her take her time to gather her scattered mind. It’s hard though when he is finally so close again and all she can think about is how good he smells and how familiar and soothing it is to have his hand in hers again. “I don’t know - I guess I just worry that you’ll get tired of me or feel like I’m just holding you back or that you’ll meet someone much more exciting than me while you’re away. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up one day and realise I’m just some loser who lives a boring life that you actually have no interest of being a part of...  And I don’t think my heart could take it.” Her voice cracks with the last part.

Harry holds her hand a little tighter in his.

“I don’t think my heart could take it either,” he tells her.

And even though he is right in front of her, holding her hands in his, she can’t stop the feeling of hopelessness coming over her again. She doesn’t want to lose him. Refuses to be the one who leaves.

But he is going away again soon and she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do when he does. The issues of her feeling alone and insecure are still going to be there, and what happens then? Is she going to put them both through another tortures couple weeks again, where neither of them know where they stand? She can’t do that to him.

“Do you think we can make it work?” she asks him and presses her lips together to stop herself from letting another sob escape her.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully and swallows hard. “But isn’t that part of it? Not knowing. Life is far too short to worry about what might happen in the future. There is alway going to be some bad and some good. The only thing I know for certain right here, right now, is that I love you and that I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I.”

Harry smiles.

“Okay then,” he says softly and moves himself a little closer to her. “Maybe we can just leave it like that then? And we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

There's a moment of silence and she wants to stay in that moment forever. Just the two of them. It’s all she wants. Always. To just be with him.

And when Harry stands up and simultaneously pulls her with him she falls into his arms. His body is so warm against hers and as he grabs her chin and tilts her head back so he can press his soft lips to hers she knows that things will work out between them. 

She loves him too much to not at least fight for it.

It will by no means be easy and she knows that when he leaves again in a couple weeks that he is going to take a piece of her heart with him.

But she also knows that she has a piece of his heart with her at all times, and that knowledge fills the small void inside her chest for many years to come.

.

Let me know what you think! <3 

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain. 

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.” 

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?” 

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 3

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: panic attacks, implied past sexual abuse/exploitation, harassment

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

When you woke up sunlight was already streaming in through the kitchen windows. You blinked, shifting to stretch and flinching at the pain in your joints. You’d fallen asleep sitting up. Glancing down at the boy still laying on your lap, you couldn’t help but smile as you brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand and whined, the sound more of a grumble because of his naturally low voice. You glanced up at the windows, eyes flitting to the clock on the wall. 

You sat bolt upright, a gasp leaving your lips. Yoongi was awake instantly, protectively leaning toward you while scanning the room for threats.

“What happened?” he said, words slurred together a bit from drowsiness.

“I’m late!” you leapt off the couch and sprinted into your room, door bouncing on its hinges as you tried to throw it shut behind you. “I need to open the cafe. Ugh, and the festival is starting today too!”

You paced your room, grabbing clothing items at random, already peeling off the things you’d fallen asleep in the night before. No time to wash up or do your full makeup, you thought, quickly tying your hair up in a messy bun. Hurrying to your bathroom you brushed your teeth and splashed some water on your face before applying mascara and a little bit of concealer.

“Yoongi, is my phone out there?” you called. He hollered back an affirmative. “Can you grab it and see if Jungkook has called? He’s supposed to be working today, I’m sure he’s wondering where I am.” 

You exited the bathroom, grabbing your top off the bed and pulling it on as you rummaged through the closet for your work shoes. 

“You have three missed calls from him,” Yoongi informed you, coming to bring you your phone. You didn’t see him as he pulled up short at the door, face going bright red as he saw you stumble across the room trying to pull on your black skinny jeans. He quickly looked away and pulled the door shut as quietly as he could.

 “Here’s your phone, noona,” he called through the door, still facing away. 

You pulled the door open, completely oblivious. “Thank you, Yoongi!” You leaned on his shoulder as you pulled your second shoe over your heel. “If you feel up to getting dressed and coming out front, I’ll introduce you to Kookie.” You peered at his face, noting the bright flush. “Are you feeling okay?” you asked, putting your hand to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “You should go ahead. I’ll be out in a bit.”

You nodded, calling behind you as you headed out front, “Tell me if you aren’t feeling well. I’ll go buy some medicine.”

Yoongi let out a breath and tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed how good your butt looked in those jeans as you walked away.

When you emerged from the kitchen into the cafe you were shocked to find it open, with a few customers sitting and chatting at the small tables by the windows.

“Noona!” Jungkook greeted you cheerfully.

“Koo!” you responded, running over to wrap the tall boy in a hug. “Did you open by yourself this morning?”

“Yeah, I have a key. I figured you must’ve been really tired, so I didn’t bother you. Is that new guy giving you trouble?” Jungkook asked, concerned. “I was going to go break the door down if you didn’t come out soon.”

“Yoongi is great, though I appreciate the concern. You didn’t call Joon, did you?” you asked. He was already nervous about Yoongi staying with you. You really didn’t want another lecture about being too trusting.

“No,” he answered with a mischievous grin. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m not worried about getting in trouble with my little brother!”

That was a lie. Namjoon’s lectures were notoriously long, and being his big sister did not protect you from his scolding. Jungkook laughed knowingly at your denial.

“Yoongi will be out in a little while, I want you to meet him. He’s really sweet, but he’s quiet. I figure if he gets to know you before he meets the other boys he might feel more comfortable,” you explained.

“You mean I’m your favorite? The only one you can trust for the job!” he said, bunny ears twitching happily as he puffed out his chest.

“Yep! You’re the best,” you confirmed, getting up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “The sweetest hybrid and cutest baby brother. Don’t tell Joon or Jimin.”

He nodded, grinning. Jungkook walked over to continue cleaning the espresso machines, as he’d been doing before you arrived.

“How’s business this morning?” you asked, washing the cups that had accumulated in the sink.

“Pretty quiet so far. It’s been picking up since about 9 this morning. That’s when people really started setting up for the festival.”

The festival was a new event for the area. For the rest of the week tradesmen, business owners, and artists would occupy the plaza and promote their various products and services. They also had a stage set up at the far end where local musicians would be performing. More traffic was expected for all the businesses in the area.

“It’s only Monday, the weekend will probably pick up a lot more,” you said. 

Jungkook nodded, going to restock some of the coffee syrups on the back counter. “Is Jimin-hyung coming in to help you tomorrow?” he asked. 

Jungkook was starting classes this semester at the nearby university, where Jimin was already a dance major. You normally worked Tuesday alone, since both boys had classes. But they’d wanted you to have extra help since you’d be busy with the festival. You didn’t want to make either of them skip class, so Yoongi coming to work with you was perfect timing. You’d meant to ask him if he’d be up to starting the night before.

“I think I’m going to have Yoongi help out tomorrow. Can you help show him around and teach him today? It’d be a good opportunity to get to know each other.”

“Does that mean I get to boss him around?” Jungkook asked, eyes twinkling. He got tired of always being the maknae.

“No, he’s your hyung, and I expect you to be polite.” You shot him a look. He pouted and your expression softened. You were never able to truly scold Jungkook.

“You’re gonna like him Kookie, I know it. He’s been through a lot. I need you to help me help him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. You ruffled his hair, scratching his ears while you were at it. 

You both continued about your tasks until Yoongi emerged. He’d dressed in a similar way to you, tidyand all black. Whether that had been an attempt at matching the dress-code or because most of what he’d bought was black, you weren’t sure.

“Yoongi!” you greeted, waving him over. “Come meet my little brother.”

He walked over to join you. Jungkook looked him over, nose twitching. You watched as the two hybrids appraised each other, knowing they could communicate a lot without words. After a moment, Jungkook broke into a darling bunny grin.

“Nice to meet you, hyung! I’m Jungkook. We kind of met before, when you came into the shop,” he held out his hand. Yoongi took it and shook politely.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi.”

None of you knew what to say after that, the pause becoming a little uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you’ll be here to help Yeoji-noona tomorrow,” Jungkook broke the silence. “Jimin-hyung, the other guy who works here, and I have classes tomorrow. It’s good she won’t be by herself.” 

Yoongi looked at you expectantly.

“Right, I hadn’t been able to tell you yet. If you feel well enough, I could really use your help tomorrow. Jungkook and I can teach you the ropes today.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yoongi said, looking around the shop.

You spent the remaining part of the morning showing Yoongi where things were and teaching him some basic recipes that people ordered frequently.

“If you forget, there’s a book with all the recipes right here.” You opened a drawer under the espresso machines. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, so you can also just ask me. Mostly I’ll have you help me with dishes and keeping things stocked.”

Yoongi paid close attention, asking questions here and there. You let Jungkook take over the teaching when a new customer came up to the counter. The two were a little stiff, clearly cautious of each other for the moment, but they seemed to relax as the hours slipped away. You sent them back to the apartment to have their lunch, and when they came back their demeanor was entirely different. You looked between the two of them, clearly surprised.

“Did you know Yoongi-hyung writes music?” Jungkook asked. His face lit up like a little kid in a toy store. You nodded, smiling at Yoongi’s quietly pleased expression.

“I’d heard you play before, but I didn’t know it was your original stuff!” he said. “You’re amazing, hyung! Can you show me some of your work sometime?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi agreed. He ducked his head, not sure how to react to the praise. He seemed to think of something and his face fell. “My keyboard got wrecked, so I won’t be able to play you anything. Sorry.”

Jungkook looked at him sadly. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jungkook asked. Yoongi just looked at him, incredulous. You smiled proudly. That’s your boy.

“I can bring my keyboard from home!” Jungkook said. Yoongi looked at the younger man hopefully.

“Really? You’d let me play it?” he asked, unsure if he could trust the generosity.

“Yeah, as long as you let me listen!” he said, his smile making his nose scrunch cutely.

You worked quietly and listened to the boys chatter on about music and Jungkook’s schooling, smiling as it blended with the pleasant background noise of the cafe.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You set several alarms on Monday night so you woke up on time Tuesday. You had tried to make Yoongi take your bed, insisting you’d be okay on the couch, but in the end he took the couch. You puttered around your room, trying to be quiet and let Yoongi sleep a little extra while you showered and put on your makeup. Once you were ready for the day you poked your head out into the living room.

“Yoon?” you called softly, walking over to the couch. He stirred a little in his sleep, burrowing further into his blanket so only his eyes showed above it. You resisted the urge to pull out your phone and snap a picture. Instead, you reached out and softly shook his shoulder.

“Yoon?” you said again, a little louder this time. “It’s time to get up, we have to open soon.”

He blinked, peering up at you through his lashes and fringe. 

“Did I oversleep?” He sat up quickly and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I set an alarm for the time you told me.”

He examined his phone to see why it hadn’t woken him.

“Ah, I set it for PM not AM.” He looked at you apologetically.

“That’s okay,” you assured him. “I wanted to let you sleep a little longer. I feel bad having you start working so soon.”

“I’m fine!” he said, rising from his spot and folding his blanket. “Do I have time to shower before we open?”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m just going to get a couple things set up. Come out whenever you’re ready.”

He disappeared into your room to get ready and you headed out front to get the cafe ready. You took all the chairs down off the tables, straightening decorations as you went. You pulled the blinds open all the way and turned on the string lights that cast the whole place in a warm light, hopefully drawing commuters to come in out of the frigid morning air.

Then you returned to the counter to make yourself a warm drink, making some cheese toast for you and Yoongi, and making him a warm latte with lots of whipped cream. As you finished his drink he emerged from the back.

“Perfect timing!” you said. “Come have breakfast before I unlock the door.”

He grinned, looking at what you’d prepared and gratefully accepting the warm beverage.

“I made you a latte this time, since you seemed to like cream. I hope that’s okay?” you asked, unsure if you should’ve checked first.

“Yeah, I think this is actually my new favorite,” he said, taking a big sip that left a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip. You giggled, pulling out your phone.

“Don’t move!” you said. He froze with his cup just inches from his lips, looking up at you questioningly. Right then, you snapped the picture. He heard the shutter noise and groaned.

“Noona!” he whined, surprising you with the cute behavior. “Delete that!”

“Absolutely not,” you said coolly, looking happily at the picture. In the shop’s soft lighting Yoongi looked absolutely angelic. He set his drink down and reached for the phone, but you dodged away from him.

“I’m keeping it!” insisted, holding the phone behind you when he grabbed for it again. You stifled a laugh when you noticed he still hadn’t gotten the cream off his lip. He frowned at you, closer to a pout than he would ever admit.

“Wait, wait!” you said, still laughing as he continued trying to grab your phone from behind you. “I’ll let you take a silly picture of me too. Then you can embarrass me with it if I ever show this cute picture to anyone.”

He paused his attempts and considered your offer. He must’ve realized he was unlikely to get you to delete the picture, because he nodded and pulled out his phone. Your drink didn’t have whip on it, so you took a sip of his, making sure to give yourself a mustache with it. Some of it ended up on your nose too. He pulled out his phone and took the picture, chuckling as you made dumb faces at him.

“Let’s take one together!” you said as he moved to pocket his phone again. He rolled his eyes, but quickly pulled out his phone and turned to stand next to you. He bent down a little and put his arm around your shoulder to pull you into the shot. You grinned at your picture on the screen, both still sporting whipped cream on your faces. He took several pictures and you convinced him to make a couple silly faces to match yours. You glanced at the clock in the top corner of the screen.

“Oh, I need to open the front door!” you said, realizing that it was three minutes past your normal opening time.

You hurried to the door, wrestling the keys out of your pocket. As you unlocked the door and flicked on the open sign, you missed how Yoongi smiled softly, scrolling through the photos you’d just taken. Literally seconds after you turned from the door, the bell jingled. You turned to greet your first customer of the morning and were greeted by a familiar heart-shaped smile.

“Hobi!” Your face immediately lit up with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure, sunshine?”

“Morning, noona,” he said, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m making housecalls today, so I figured I’d drop by and get my caffeine fix on the way to my first patient.” He glanced up over your shoulder at Yoongi, observing the interaction from behind the counter.

“Hey there,” Hoseok called to him, walking to the counter with an arm still around your shoulders. Yoongi’s ears flattened, body tensing with anxiety as the man approached and you detached yourself from Hoseok’s side to rejoin him around the counter. You wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist and gestured to Hoseok.

“You guys didn’t exactly get an introduction before, huh?” you said, trying for a light tone. “This is my friend Hoseok. He’s the doctor that treated you-”

“I remember,” Yoongi interrupted, refusing to meet Hoseok’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok cut in abruptly. Yoongi glanced up at him, clearly surprised. “You were in bad shape and my priority was to get you stable. You weren’t able to give your consent for treatment at the time, but I know that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. You must’ve been scared. I sure as hell would’ve been. So, I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.”

There was a pause as Yoongi processed Hoseok’s words, seeming to scan his face for sincerity. In the end he just nodded, but you felt his thin body relax a little, ears cautiously sitting back up. 

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over,” Hoseok said, holding out his hand for a shake. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but accepted the handshake. “I’m Jung Hoseok,” the boy said, flashing another 100 megawatt smile.

“Yoongi,” Yoongi answered quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

He broke the handshake and gave a polite bow.

“You don’t have to be so formal! I told you, your only hyung here is Jin,” you said, nudging him. Hoseok smiled wider.

“Let’s get along well, hyung!” he said, bowing to Yoongi instead. Yoongi blinked at you, confused by the show of respect, but he didn’t comment on it. Hoseok stood by the counter, chatting with you happily while you made his coffee. Once he got it he waved and got on his way, turning to wave again through the window before disappearing down the sidewalk.

You and Yoongi didn’t talk much, but fell into an efficient rhythm working together. As it got busier, you focused on taking orders while Yoongi helped wash dishes and keep the tables clean. Around three, Jungkook came by, his class having let out early. He offered to take over so Yoongi could go get some rest, but he gratefully declined. He seemed to be enjoying the chill atmosphere of the cafe.

You and Jungkook talked about his classes while you served drinks to the festival-goers passing through. The sun was hanging low in the sky, string lights illuminating the plaza outside. Your attention was drawn away from the drink you were preparing when a shrill voice cut through the soft chatter of the cafe.

“Kitten?” the voice said. “It is you! It’s my favorite kitten.”

You turned to see Yoongi drop the tray of dishes he’d been clearing, eyes wide as he looked at the woman who had spoken. She looked about thirty, though judging by the stiffness of her features that could be off by ten years or so. She had bleached blonde hair and unreal proportions. She towered over Yoongi in her heeled boots, and he backed away, bumping into the table as she stepped toward him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, completely ignoring his discomfort. “I’ve missed you! The club just isn’t the same without you. I asked and your masters said you must’ve gotten lost. They looked everywhere for you.”

You stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward them as the woman grabbed the tie of Yoongi’s apron and pulled him to her, grabbing his chin in her fingers and holding his face inches from hers.

“How could you leave me? I know I was your favorite customer,” she smirked, an almost predatory glint in her eyes. He refused to meet her eyes, trying to pull away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she tightened her grip on his face, making him wince and shut his mouth. 

You pushed a chair aside with a loud screech as you reached them. Your body moved before you could think, one hand clasping Yoongi’s white the other grabbed the woman’s hand in a vice-like grip. You pushed her away with more force than entirely necessary.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, glaring icy daggers at the woman. Yoongi kept his eyes on the ground. His whole body shook and his grip on your hand bordered on painful. You stepped in front of him protectively and turned to face the woman again. She had stumbled back a few steps, unsteady in her impractical shoes.

“What’s your problem b****?” she snapped. She looked from you to Yoongi, a wicked sneer spreading on her lips. “Ah, I see. You found a new girl to whore yourself out to? She must be desperate to settle for damaged goods. I pitied you, kitten. It’s only a matter of time unt-”

You were already walking away, noting with disgust that none of your customers had stepped in to help. Instead, they all avoided looking at you or Yoongi as you slipped back behind the counter and headed to the kitchen.

“Call the police,” you said flatly to Jungkook, who had been watching with an expression not unlike a bunny in headlights. He nodded, phone already in his hand. “Tell them we have CCTV footage and we’d like to press charges.”

You heard the woman splutter behind you, barking profanity before her footsteps retreated to the door. You heard the bell chime as she exited but you continued back through the kitchen and into the apartment. As soon as the door fell shut you turned to Yoongi, his hand still clutched tightly in yours. His eyes were still on the floor, staring into nothing. You guided him gently to sit on the couch. He refused to release your hand so you awkwardly used your free one to pull his favorite blanket around his shoulders.

“Yoon?” you started softly. “Sweetheart?” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“She- she- I was-” His eyes darted between yours, panic finally surfacing through the shock. “They’ll take me back,” he said, breaths coming too quickly as his body shook harder.

“No. No they won’t,” you said firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again and I meant it.”

He didn’t seem to hear you, so you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He flinched away at first, but you waited until he looked at you before repeating yourself.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Yoongi. You’re safe with me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks, mirroring the ones that already fell on yours. He still gasped for air, and you recognized a panic attack when you saw one. Jungkook had them frequently when he first came to you and Namjoon.

“Sweetheart, I need you to slow your breathing down. Can you breathe with me?” He looked at you with wide-eyes, struggling to draw a normal breath. You took a deep breath yourself, loud enough for him to hear. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to follow your slow inhale. You held the breath for a moment before releasing it, repeating the process for several minutes until he was able to follow. Tears continued to fall down his face, and he was still shaking.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” you praised, wiping the tears from his face. “What can I do? How can I help?”

He paused, seeming to hesitate as he drew another shaky breath. Then he moved forward, thin arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. You immediately wrapped him in your arms, petting his hair gently, continuing to take deep breaths as he kept following. After a while you felt his breaths even out, thinking maybe he fell asleep. Doing your best not to jostle him, you pulled out your phone. It had been almost an hour, and you quickly texted Jungkook.

You sighed, the last thing you needed was an overbearing little brother getting Yoongi worked up again. You switched to your conversation with Namjoon.

You turned to Yoongi, knowing you had to let him know Namjoon was on his way. The last thing he needed was an unexpected guest.

“Yoon? You awake?” He nodded against your shoulder, not pulling away yet. “My brother, Namjoon, is coming over to check on us,” you said softly. You felt him tense. “He just wants to make sure we���re okay,” you tried to reassure him. “He’s bringing us dinner. Maybe we can watch a movie?”

Yoongi pulled away from you and your heart broke again when you saw his puffy eyes, red from crying. He took a hiccuping breath, then nodded.

“Okay.” He seemed to ponder for a moment. “Is he mad?”

“What do you mean? At us?” you asked.

“At me,” he clarified.

You frowned. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“It’s my fault. Her making a scene and yelling. She could’ve hurt you. And it would’ve been my fault,” he said. You pulled him back into your arms, holding him tightly.

“Yoongi, listen to me. Nothing that’s happened has been your fault. You did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment. And everything that awful witch said was a lie. You are wonderful.” You punctuated the statement with a gentle squeeze before pulling away from him. He nodded, wiping at his face with a sleeve.

“Let’s get cleaned up a bit, why don’t you change out of your work clothes? Joon will be here soon,” you said, standing and heading to the bathroom. You washed your face and changed into some sweats. Yoongi went after you grabbing a fluffy sweater to change into. Just as the bedroom door closed behind him you heard a knock at your door. Namjoon stood on the step with a bag of food and two six-packs of beer.

“Chimaek!” he announced proudly. You smiled tiredly and let him in. He set the food on the kitchen counter and you immediately grabbed a beer and popped it open.

“That bad?” Namjoon asked, grimacing. You only grunted in response. “The police really won’t do anything?”

“If I ever see that b**** again, I’ll kill her myself. Then the police will get involved,” you growled.

“Not if I help you hide the body,” Namjoon said, opening a can of beer himself. You gave him a small smile and clinked your cans together.

Yoongi emerged from the bedroom then, bundled in his baggy grey sweats and a yellow sweater that gave him perfect sweater paws. You waved him over, pulling out a beer for him.

“I don’t think you two really met, did you?” you asked, not waiting for a response. “This is my little brother, Namjoon. Joonie, this is Yoongi.”

Yoongi bowed politely, and Namjoon glanced at you as he bowed back. “Nice to meet you. Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you when he got home last night. Sounds like you’re gunning for my spot as favorite hyung!” he said playfully.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said meekly.

“I’m kidding, hyung,” Namjoon said, laughing awkwardly. Yoongi looked up sharply at the respectful tone. That made two humans in one day speaking politely to him? What the hell was with these people?

“S***, is that too friendly? I just feel like you’re already family. Yeoji-noona mentioned you coming into the shop a bunch, so it’s like I know you,” Namjoon rambled. You shot him a look, but the words were already said.

“You mentioned me?” Yoongi asked, genuinely surprised, but happy.

“Yeah,” you said, a little shy at being called out. “I’d always hoped we could be friends, or something. And then with everything, I ended up getting to know you better.”

Yoongi smiled then, for the first time since the incident. His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Namjoon watched the exchange with interest, letting the moment hang for a moment before interrupting it.

“Let’s eat! The chicken will get cold,” he said. 

“Chicken?” Yoongi said, excitement obvious in his voice, eyes sparkling with something very recognizable this time. Namjoon grinned, picking up the food and moving to the living room. You picked a movie and settled onto the floor so you could eat at the coffee table. 

By the time every bone was picked clean, Namjoon was on his third beer. You and Yoongi and you had finished off five each. To be fair, it had been a long day. You had all migrated onto the couch, Namjoon on one end, you in the middle, Yoongi on the other. As you watched the movie Yoongi naturally curled himself into you, head resting on your lap. You mindlessly played with his hair and he was out in minutes. Namjoon watched you, a smirk playing on his lips as he heard the purr rumble from Yoongi’s chest. When the movie ended, he shook you gently.

“Noona, you guys should get to bed. Your back will hurt,” he said. 

You nodded drowsily, waking Yoongi and pulling him to his feet. You dragged him along, shuffling into your room and tucking a barely-conscious Yoongi into bed. You returned to see off Namjoon, who was putting on his jacket.

“Don’t drive!” you said, ever the protective older sister despite being a little drunk and very drowsy.

“I called a cab.” He chuckled, patting your head. You scowled and brushed his hand away, then wrapped him in a hug.

“Thank you for coming, Joon,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Of course,” he answered, planting a kiss in your hair before pulling away. “Go to sleep, I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

He waved you off and you crept back into your bedroom, flopping into bed and curling up against the warm figure that was already softly snoring away.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is almost ready to start filming her movie, The Dark Woods, with her dad but is nervous but how it will all turn out. She’s feeling better by the first day of filming but when her other lead actor quits, she needs to find a new one and fast...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 2,900ish

Warnings: language, car accidents

A/N: Please enjoy the first of many parts!

______

“Alright, so we’re going to have Ethan run down this hallway here, turn, tight in over his shoulder and push past to go down the way he came to catch sight of the baddie chasing him,” said Mark, your director of photography. You pursed your lips and hummed, walking through the warehouse location, your dad watching off to the side.

“Reverse it,” you said. “I want the supposed baddie’s back, in the first hallway, chasing my dad. Tight in over his shoulder, push past that guy and then get onto my dad. It’s supposed to be scary. I want the chase and tension.”

“You got it boss,” said Mark.

“You sure that’s what you want to do, kiddo?” asked your dad, Ethan. You glanced over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“I want a ‘heart stops beating in the chest’ moment,” you said. “Fear. Prey being hunted.”

“But my character turns out to be the predator in this case,” he said, leaning against the wall.

“Exactly. The audience won’t know until it’s too late. Heart stopping, edge of the seat opening scene. I want them to feel for Hale and then have him flip the tables on them and then flip ‘em right back. I want the hallway shot one long continuous shot too. We might need to work on it some and get in a few rehearsals but it’s what I want,” you said.

“Sounds good. Opening scenes can really make a movie. I can’t wait to start filming next week,” said Mark with a grin. “This is going to get nominated for an Oscar or some shit.”

“I’ll settle for not bombing at the box office,” you said, pulling out your phone to check the time. “It’s starting to get late. I’m good for the day if you guys are.”

“Good with me. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday, Y/N,” said Mark. You gave him a wave as he headed out, your dad poking his head down the hallway again as you walked around one last time.

“I sound like a total bitch, don’t I, demanding what I want to do,” you said. He whipped his head around and frowned.

“No sweetie, not at all. Director ain’t an easy gig. You’re gonna have to know what you want all the time and some days, you’ll have to be a hardass about it. But you’re doing very good with all of your prep work. No one knows this story like you do,” he said.

“Why did I agree to do this,” you groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “I wrote the damn book. Why did I say I’d direct it too? Direct my own father?”

“Because you love this story. I love this story. Mom and Anthony and Ella love it. You wanted it to get the treatment it deserves. You’re gonna do great,” he said.

“Remind me of this when I’m two weeks into filming and I end up flipping out,” you said. He gave you a big squeezing hug, spinning you around in circles. “Dad.”

“Mhm, sweetie,” he said. “You’re coming over for dinner to relax. No excuses.”

“I’ll take the free food,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked out towards where the car was parked. “How’d you not be terrified all the time?”

“Terrified of what?” he asked.

“You had me when you were 18. I was nine by the time you were my age. I can’t even keep a houseplant alive and now I’m making a multi million dollar movie and I feel like I’m gonna explode already. I can’t imagine being responsible for a kid,” you said.

“I was terrified to be honest. Grandma and grandpa helped us a lot. The whole family did. Becoming a rising Hollywood star was nothing compared to single dad though. You used to be the center of attention when my buddies would come over. You remember that?” he asked.

“I was your responsibility though,” you said.

“And I don’t regret having you for a second,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “How cool is it that we get to work together? This is going to be great, sweetie. I’ll try to help the hard days not be so hard too, okay?”

“Okay. I grew up on film sets. Hopefully this doesn’t go as bad as I think it will.”

“What do you mean he’s out? He can’t be out. He’s the other fucking lead!” you shouted into your phone late Monday morning. Your dad slurped up his noodles from his lunch at the craft services tent, most everyone going quiet and looking at you. You ditched your plate and went outside to the lot, running your hand over your face. “Where is Gil Nicholas going? He signed-”

“Dropped out. His contract allowed him to do that up until filming started which technically wasn’t until tomorrow so he’s able to do it,” said the casting director on the other end.

“What…” you said, taking a deep breath. 

“Relax, Y/L/N. I’ve known your dad since he was a bright eyed 18 year old kid. I ain’t calling with this kind of news without having a backup plan. There’s this guy out there, Jensen Ackles. He’s an up and comer. He was on a sci-fi horror network show that got the axe after a few seasons. The kid’s good though. Better than Gil for sure. He doesn’t have the name recognition that Nicholas did and this would be his biggest production ever but the kid is used to the horror genre,” he said.

“It’s not a horror movie,” you grumbled. “I’ve never heard of this guy. How old is he?”

“Twenty eight. Been in the business for about ten years. He’s got a good strong look to him. Athletic but soft,” he said. “He’s good looking. The face alone would get some people out to see the film. Get his shirt off and stick that in the trailer, you’ll get people to come see this movie no problem.”

“I wrote the damn book in my childhood bedroom. I published it and sold the movie deal on my own. If I need to get someone naked to sell this story, it doesn’t deserve to be on the big screen,” you said.

“Okay...relax before you blow a gasket. I got some other guys that could play Lyle. We could put together an emergency casting session this evening, see about getting a guy in for the morning?” he asked.

“Alright. Do the session. My dad’s off the rest of the day so see if he’s available for chemistry reads,” you said. “Please.”

“Can do, Y/N. The studio isn’t going to let one of the most popular books of the past few years crash and burn. It’s a goldmine waiting to happen for them. We’ll find the right guy to play Lyle. I promise.”

“Hey,” you said, jogging into the casting studio around 8 that night, catching your dad reading over a page of the script. “How was Ella’s volleyball game?”

“They won. She spiked the ball and hit some poor girl in the face though. She was crying the last time I saw her,” said your dad.

“I’ll call her after this,” you said, closing your eyes. “How’d the chemistry reads go?” 

“Just got that Ackles kid left to do. I’ll be honest. It ain’t been pretty in there. Two hot shots that ain’t worth shit, one that sounds horrible and another that can’t even pronounce full words,” he said.

“Lovely,” you said. “Where’s the Ackles guy then? I thought you guys were expecting to be wrapped up by now.”

“Late. Not the best sign,” he said. You squeezed your eyes shut and tilted your head back. “Go take a walk around the building, kiddo. I’ll talk to casting, see if there’s other possibilities. Worst case, we rework schedules, film anything without a lead while they find one.”

“This is a disaster and it’s only the first day,” you said.

“Y/N. Go on, take a breather,” said your dad. You sighed but went back outside, throwing your head back as you started to walk the block for a few minutes.

A whistle from a dim alley made you roll your eyes as you walked past. 

“Hey, princess. I was talking to you,” said the man.

“Fuck off. Not in the mood,” you said. Next thing you knew a hand was on your shoulder and you were being shoved back against a brick building. 

“Well that’s not very nice,” said the guy.

“Hey!” barked another voice. You both turned your heads to spot a younger guy already looking a little beat up walking down the sidewalk. “Pick on somebody your own size.”

“You want another ass kicking tonight? Looks like you already lost,” said the guy. He turned his attention to the other man but you were still stuck in a dead end alley with him. You tried to brush past him but the guy caught your arm, the younger one staring him down. “Just having a fight with my girlfriend, buddy.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, fuckface,” you said, stomping on his foot and turning around, kicking him in the nuts. He dropped your arm and you ran past to the young guy, standing behind him for a moment.

“Get out of here. Now,” he said. You took off back down the block to the casting studio, ducking into the lobby. Five minutes later you were pacing the halls, trying to get through on the phone to the police when the young guy appeared sporting a freshly bruised cheek. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You? I’m trying to get through to the police but they put me on hold,” you said. He gave you a smile and shook his head.

“I’m fine. Rough night is all,” he said as he wiped some dirt off his cheek. He was handsome and looked strong but you could tell he wasn’t the fighting type.

“Busy saving other damsels?” you joked.

“The car in front of me tonight got in an accident. Car rolled and I helped get the driver out. Guy went into diabetic coma for a hot second so that was fun hanging with him until the ambulance got there and then that just happened. Obviously not my night. I’m supposed to be having the biggest audition of my life two hours ago here. Probably a sign it’s not meant to be,” he said.

“Well there’s at least two people out there grateful for you popping up tonight. Maybe your audition will go well,” you said, smiling to yourself. 

“I doubt it,” he said. “I should just go home. They probably won’t even let me anymore.”

“I know some people that work here,” you said, his ears perking up. “Give me your name. I’ll make sure you get your audition.”

“Really? Uh, thanks. I’m Jensen Ackles. I’m supposed to be auditioning for Lyle Sullivan on The Dark Woods movie,” he said.

You stared at him, Jensen giving you a smile. 

“You okay? If you don’t know anyone on that that’s cool, really,” he said. You nodded and said you’d take care of it. You went down another hall and into a large audition room where your dad was talking with the casting director while on the phone with one of his cop friends.

“Hey. Ackles is here,” you said.

“Kid’s two hours late,” said the casting director.

“We’re desperate, not that desperate,” said your dad. “Trust me. If he can’t even show up for an audition on time-”

“He’s the guy that just got that other one to leave me alone on the street,” you said. Your dad immediately put down his phone and looked at you. “He says he helped a guy who was in a car accident earlier and that’s why he’s late. He looks it. I want to give him a chance.”

“Alright. He can have a chance,” said your dad.

“Alright. Ethan, scene 22 again. Y/N, want to watch in here or on the monitor?” asked the director.

“Monitor. I’ll pop back in with my decision,” you said. You went in the back room and sat down, a TV on a small table in front of you. You turned it on and reached across the table, finding one of the pads of paper and pens that were normally there. You jotted down a few things to yourself.

He had the look of Lyle which was a huge plus for you. Short cute brown hair in spiky strands. The signature green eyes. The slight scruff on his cheeks.

He popped in front of the camera, still and quiet as he watched a few people move about. He was tall and had strong arms but there was something innocent and kind about him you couldn’t place. You smiled. Lyle had to be both the soft sweet boy and the tear your throat out with his teeth type. This guy seemed like he could pull that off potentially.

You sat back and watched your dad appear on the screen, shaking hands with Jensen briefly before they started.

Twenty minutes later you leaned back in your seat and stood up. Jensen was good. Nervous around your dad and shy but that was okay. During the read, all of that fell away. He was Lyle Sullivan, far better than Gil had ever played him. Jensen seemed to know just how to play Lyle’s relationship with Hale and it made you wonder if he’d ever read the book.

You popped into the casting room, Jensen no longer in there, your dad and a few other people discussing what they’d seen.

“We know what we think. What about our director?” asked your dad as he crossed his arms.

“I want him. I want him real bad,” you said. “He was good.”

“Alright. I think we’re all at a consensus then,” said the casting director with a smile. “We need him in tomorrow morning to start filming though. We need to work a temporary contract out tonight and-”

“Give him Gil’s contract, minus the ability to pull out,” you said. “It’s simple.”

“The studio ain’t paying a small screen, barely has a fan base, guy a couple million dollars,” he said.

“The Dark Woods is a wildly popular book with a built in fan base. Pay the man his money. What’s the big deal,” you said.

“I’m telling you right now, they won’t pay the kid three million,” he said. “He isn’t worth it in their eyes. Your dad is an established, multi-franchise, lead for both TV and movies. There is a reason your father is being paid very well. You earn that in this business, kid.”

“I negotiated my salary and a movie deal, on my own. Don’t call me a kid. I am twenty seven years old and do not tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. Use Gil’s contract and get him signed before he leaves the building,” you said. The casting director stared at you before he got up and left the room. Your dad gave you a look that you rolled your eyes at. “What?”

“You’re gonna be just fine as a director, kiddo.”

“Hey,” you said around midnight when you finally had all of the paperwork settled. Jensen was walking out into the main hall with his agent by his side. “How’d it go?”

“I got it!” he said, all smiles, his agent saying a quick goodnight to him. “Thank you so much for putting in a good word. I can’t believe they even let me audition let alone gave me the role.”

“Well, I just got you the audition. You got the job on your own,” you said.

“Still. I owe you a drink,” he said. He had big bright green eyes, still a bit shy but you could tell his excitement was giving him some confidence.

“I have work very, very early in the morning,” you said with a laugh, his face falling for a split second. “But I will definitely take a raincheck for Saturday night?”

“Alright. Sounds good to me,” he said as he smiled. You swapped phones for a moment, Jensen practically bouncing with excitement.

“You excited about this job, huh?” you asked as you put your phone away.

“You ever hear of The Dark Woods book? I love it. It’s so good. I was super excited to hear they were making it a movie and now I get to play Lyle freaking Sullivan? If you haven’t read it, you got to,” he said. “It’s awesome.”

“I’ll have to take a look sometime,” you said. “I’ll text you sometime for Saturday then?”

“Yeah. This is turning out to be the best day ever,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[marvelousell]

The Agreement (Part 6.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: My heart is beating for Haz rn but Tom is my fave so I’m confused af ok😫. Also who tf is Emily🤡? I hope you like this chapter and I would appreciate it if you leave a comment, reblog or send a feedback!❤️

My tag list is open for this series!

Warnings: flufff, swearing, mentions of alcohol

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Masterlist

“Ready?”

Monday came quickly honestly. Probably the constant overthinking during the whole Sunday and Monday morning distracted you pretty well.

And here you are now.

Fresh out of the shower, with your robe around your body staring at Anna in front of your door who was ready to ‘glam you up’.

“I don’t know, I think I’m gonna puke if we’re being honest.” You spoke, exhaling the air from your lungs.

“It’s totally normal to feel like that! That means you like him.” She winked, marching to your bedroom.

“Well I do like him and that’s why I’m worried. What if I mess everything up? I’m so awkward you know that.” You began to panic, chewing on your bottom lip nervously.

“Just be yourself, he is already smitten. Believe me, what could go wrong?”

Maybe the truth about Tom, I don’t know.

“You’re right, but I’m still sweating and I feel sick.”

“Can’t wait for you to return from the date and say to me ‘oh I was so stupid for worrying it was amazing Ann I love him!’” She mocked you, laughing along with you.

“I really hope that will be the end product after tonight’s date.”

“Harrison is a really great guy, you will have the best night with him I’m sure.”

Your mouth curved into a smile at the thought of him.

At the thought of his blue eyes and his contagious laugh that was ringing in your ears since Saturday.

Maybe he really is the one for you?

If only Tom didn’t come that night at your apartment, everything would be fine.

The thoughts were eating you up, but you tried to remain calm.

“Just remember Tom’s words. Maybe this deal won’t last that long.” You said to yourself.

“So what are we doing for tonight?” Anna spoke resting her arms on the chair, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“Nothing extra, keep it casual.” You replied, not wanting to look like you’re going to a red carpet.

“Keep it casual got it.”

“Did you spoke with Tom yesterday?” She asked curiously, making your heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name.

You were trying your best not to react.

“No, he didn’t call me. Why, did something happen?” You asked, trying to look worried.

“No, no. Just asking I thought that he maybe apologized or something, but it seems he is still acting like a total douche.”

You kind of forgot the scene from the party, Harrison being on your mind practically every second.

But now that she reminded you, you were pissed. He could at least call and say a stupid ‘sorry’, however he was too proud. Tom would never admit he was wrong even when it was a small, unimportant thing.

“You know he is like that when he is around a girl that he wants to shag, but still I don’t approve that, I mean we’re his friends.” You responded.

“That’s absolutely right. Gosh I don’t know how could someone sleep with him? I know he is hot and all that but c’mon Tom just thinks with his thing down there and that’s disgusting.” She spoke bitterly while your face turned red.

You don’t know a thing Anna, but you’re definitely right about that.

He just knows how to make a girl say yes straight away, that’s the problem.

“U-uh yes, I agree.” Your voice coming out as a whisper.

“Let’s not ruin our night with him, we love him although he is like that so it’s not important. Did our prince charming say where you two are going?” She changed the subject, focusing on your hair that was the last thing that needed to be done.

“Didn’t drop a single clue, he just said he will pick me up at seven.” You chuckled, glancing at the clock.

Thirty minutes and he will be here.

-

“Oh shit he is outside.” You whisper yelled, heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“Listen. Don’t worry, just relax and be yourself. Harrison is fantastic and not a pompous dick like others.” She put her palms on your shoulders giving them an encouraging squeeze.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply to calm your nerves.

“Thank you so much Ann, I owe you big times. I will call you when I come home or you can stay here and make yourself comfortable whatever you want.” You said, hugging her tightly.

“Thanks for the offer but I will go home, and I will be waiting for your call. And you miss have fun.” She smiled like a proud mother, hugging you back.

Your hands were shaking, and your stomach lurched when you saw him leaned on his black car waiting for you.

You both immediately smiled at each other.

Harrison was as nervous as you were. He spent his whole day rambling to Harry that tried his best not to laugh at his friend who was totally excited to see the girl that couldn’t leave his head the whole weekend.

He was finally ready to find a girl. Someone who will be here even when things went downhill.

“Good evening gorgeous.” Harrison greeted, flashing you a broad smile.

“Well good evening to you too handsome.” You greeted him back, standing now in front of him with a shy smile plastered on your face.

“You look stunning tonight love.” He half whispered, with his eyes still on yours.

“Thank you, so do you.”

“Ready to hop in?” He asked, opening the door for you.

“Of course, how could I not be with a gentleman like you by my side?” You flirted shamelessly, making him laugh.

“Eager to know where I’m taking you?” He asked, starting a conversation.

Your eyes were glued on the road and everything around trying to guess where you were heading to.

“Definitely, hope you’re not gonna kill me or something already.”

“Too much criminal series love.” He chuckled at your response.

“And I would still want the place to remain a surprise, but don’t worry nothing will happen.” He added.

“It better not Harrison I trust you.” You continued to joke, enjoying the rest of the drive.

-

“And we’re here beautiful.” He parked his car, opening the door for you again.

Holy fuck.

The view was mesmerizing. It was like a hill, with a view on the whole city that was glowing now.

Your whole face lit up, not only because he was creative and didn’t take you to a classic restaurant on the first date but because you had such a great person next to you to enjoy the breathtaking view with.

“This is truly stupendous Harrison..Gosh.” You were so dumbfounded at the sight that you didn’t feel the warmth of his body behind you.

“I’m so glad you like it, I wanted to take you somewhere special the first time.” He spoke into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“I appreciate that a lot, and you really left me speechless here.” You giggled, turning your face to his.

Harrison put a lot of effort in this, wanting to show you how much he fancied you.

This wasn’t just an ordinary place that he googled up or something.

This was Harrison’s special place ever since he was twelve. He would often come here when he needed some time for himself or when he wanted to sit and relax looking at the whole town that was in a rush as always.

The place was unique in Harrison’s life. His gut told him he could trust you and that this was a brilliant timing to share it with you.

He hoped maybe it will be your special place by the end of the night, because he was sure you were the girl that will change his life.

“It’s actually my secret place or whatever they call it nowadays.” His eyes lit up looking at the two most beautiful sights in front of him.

“Oh no sorry, now I ruined the whole secret place thing for you.” You grabbed his hand, feeling bad in some kind of way.

“Don’t be silly love, if I thought you weren’t noteworthy I wouldn’t share it with you.” His fingers stroked your skin carefully, making your heartbeat go wild at the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Happy to hear that you think I’m that special.” You whispered, noticing the small blanket positioned on the grass behind him.

“C’mon let’s sit and enjoy the real magic from here.” His hand took yours, rubbing his thumb against your palm.

-

“So you study English Literature?” He asked, pouring the sparkling wine in your glass.

He sure planned this all well, and you weren’t complaining. In fact you loved it so much that you could sit like this forever. Just you and him.

“That’s right. Does it sound that boring?” You asked, the nervousness now long gone.

“Absolutely not! Mr. Phillips must be your favourite professor I assume?” He rose his eyebrow asking sarcastically.

“Are you like in my class or something because that would be awkward as hell. And no c’mon he is a total ass.”

“If I was with you in the same class I would definitely ask a beauty like you out a long time ago, don’t worry. My sister is taking his classes, she started her first year so you know heard some stuff.” He chuckled, sipping his wine.

“I’m sorry for her, he can be an idiot towards students but that shouldn’t discourage her at all.”

“Totally, every college has someone like that.” He added, receiving a nod from you.

You two were talking like you knew each other your whole life and that was something you craved for a long time.

Harrison couldn’t keep his eyes the whole night away from you.

It was something about your irresistible smile and how your head would fall back when you laughed that got him love-struck.

He really liked you and your sweet soul that was full of tenderness.

That was something he could never find in someone ever since Emily.

“Tired?” He gave you a half-smile when he felt your head resting on his shoulder.

“No, just loving this atmosphere and your presence. I could do this every day for the rest of my life if you ask me.” You said softly.

Harrison thought that this was the perfect timing to wrap his arm around your waist, caressing it carefully.

He was sure he wanted to kiss in you that exact moment. Even though he was distracted by his heart that was a beating mess and by his sweaty palms, he couldn’t wait more. He reminded himself if he waited and didn’t speak to you that night nothing of this would happen, so what could go wrong now?

He didn’t want it to be forced, it should be memorable for the both of you.

What’s the point if he doesn’t show you how much he liked you through the kiss?

So his hands leisurely traveled to your arm and shoulder. Your skin was landscaped with goosebumps, and you were sure he could see how your cheeks turned red although it was dark.

You relaxed in his hands, leaning your face into his neck inhaling his scent.

The grin on his face was growing bigger when he felt your body on his, he would trade anything just to be always like this with you from now on.

His fingertips brushed the skin of your hot cheek while his eyes were admiring your body that was illuminated by the moonlight.

Eventually his large palm cupped your cheek, bringing you close to his face.

His nose bumped into yours, his eyes now focused on your sparkling ones.

“Is this okay?” He asked for consent.

“Yes.” You whispered back, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“God you’re so beautiful.” His lips were ghosting over yours, still testing the waters.

Harrison was exhilarated at that moment, closing the small space between your lips. They were moving against yours delicately. He could taste the sweet wine from your lips mixing with the taste of your cherry chapstick and it was a combination that he will always associate with you.

Your heart fluttered, and the only thing you could think is how his lips were soft against yours.

Harrison would break the kiss, opening his eyes to ensure himself that you were real and that this wasn’t a figment of his imagination before pulling you in for another short innocent kiss.

You both stayed close to each other after the intimate moment, with Harrison’s thumb still on your cheek.

“I really like you Y/N, I want to be around you more.” He spoke in your ear, nothing but the truth.

“And I like you more, hopefully this will be something more.” You responded truthfully as well.

“Thanks for the wonderful evening love, and thank you for giving me a chance to finally find and enjoy the time with someone as pretty as you, inside and out.”

“No, thank you for everything. You were the first who showed some love and interest for who I really am, not just for some fun.” Your voice getting smaller when you said the last part.

“Love, if someone doesn’t see your true beauty behind that graceful face, he doesn’t deserve a single look from you, let alone something more.”

Oh how right you were Harrison, you don’t even know.

You were a grinning mess after his statement, the only thanks you could give him was a small peck.

-

The car stopped in front of your apartment, silence now filling the space in his car.

His hand rested on top of yours through the whole ride back to the apartment.

Harrison was beaming, glancing every now and then at you, memorising every feature of yours.

“Here we are.”

There was just a little bit of sadness that could be heard in his voice, because the night was over and he was already missing you in his embrace.

“Thank you for this beautiful night. You really made it special.” You spoke once again, caressing his hand that you refused to let go.

“Please love, I already said what I really mean. You are a wonderful person and no one could prove me wrong.”

“You Y/N made this night one of my favourites and thank you for that.” He admitted, kissing you passionately.

This one was a much longer and caring. The kiss was like a perfect match and it made you smile during it.

“Thank you.” You murmured as he pulled away.

“I’m going to call you love, I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Not if I call you first.” You answered.

“I won’t complain.”

“Have a good night beautiful.” He added, pecking your lips.

“And you as well handsome.”

It was like you forgot how to walk when you stepped out of his car. Harrison’s vehicle not leaving the driveway until he was sure you entered the house safely.

The smile on your face was genuine and the whole night was repeating in your head non-stop.

It occupied your mind so much that you didn’t even notice the light being turned on in the living room.

Until a loud groan finally caught your attention.

“Who’s there?” Your voice trembling.

“Fuck, just me.” A male voice responded, mumbling the words.

Just me?

“Are you normal? How did you even enter the apartment?” You relaxed immediately when your eyes landed on a half drunk Tom.

“Key behind the flowerpot, not a brilliant hiding place if you ask me.” He laughed while his eyes remained closed.

“Yeah..right, forgot about that. What do you want?” You spitted, clearly annoyed at the realisation that you will probably not spend the night alone.

“Gotta see my favourite girl, but looks like she was busy.” Tom slurred, resting his hands on the back of his head.

“Tom if you’re drunk you can crash on the couch.” You stated, making your way to your bedroom.

“C’mon babe, wanted to spend the night with you.” He rushed next to you, grabbing your waist.

“Thought you didn’t do that.”

“I meant as friends love, but I can always make an exception for you.” Tom whispered as the smell of the strong alcohol hit your nostrils.

“Are you going to talk to me and say why are you here or?” You tried again.

“I was with Sophie today ya know. It kinda went well I guess? Or not? Because she said I’m gonna regret that decision and that tone but hey I don’t care at least her annoying ass is out of my face.” He smiled, receiving an eye roll from you.

“I told you to talk politely, now she is going to get all crazy.”

“I was polite! But she just doesn’t understand what it means I don’t want anything with you. That’s the problem.”

“Okay, you have a point here, she can get pretty hard to handle.” You believed his words knowing she was a special case.

“Thank you. Also I came to apologize for my behaviour.” Tom added, mumbling the last words.

“Oh really? Why?” You crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak.

“Because I was tipsy, and that was a shit move, you know I didn’t mean that.”

“It was.” Your mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m sorry love okay?”

“You’re forgiven, apologize to Ann as well.” You weren’t in a mood for a fight, and he at least said sorry so all good.

“Not happy to see me love?” He turned his attention to you, squeezing your hips.

“I’m tired Tom, but I appreciate your apology and everything, feel free to take the couch.”

“Where were you that late on a weeknight anyways?” Tom asked curiously, eyeing your body and how pretty you looked tonight.

“On a date.”

Date?

Oh yes Harrison.

That dolled up for him?

Why does he even care about that, you two were nothing?

“Looks like you had fun. Tell me more.”

“You really won’t let me sleep tonight am I right?” You asked, trying your best not to smile but he was making it so hard already.

“Nah, let’s make ourselves comfortable on the couch and spend the night like that hm?” He smirked, pulling you back into the living room.

“Why can’t I say no to you? You need to stop that.”

It was so hard, switching thoughts about two boys every minute. One second it was Harrison only and then Tom just shows up out of nowhere and makes everything go wild inside of you.

You didn’t want to lose Tom nor Harrison.

However you were aware that someone in the end will get heartbroken no matter what, and that was your main concern.

-

Tag List

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[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 11: Discharge Plan

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)

Summary: The highs of Shane and Sy’s first weekend as a couple are followed up by some big news from Sy, leading to our couple’s first fight.

Don’t miss a session! Click here to catch up on this story or explore my other works!

Word Count: 2.7

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, smut, sort of unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, angst, alcohol consumption,

Author’s Note: First off, I wanna talk about the word “victuals.” I’ve loved this word for a long time, even though it makes no sense, phonetically as it actually rhymes with the “fiddles” or “riddles.”(It’s true, look it up!) It’s very pastoral and somewhat archaic, so you don’t hear it too much anymore in current writing about the present, but I just felt like Sy would say it. Secondly, it was really hard for me to put my darlings through the argument in this chapter. I want them to have only happy times…but that provides no tension or motivation for story development…and I want to keep writing them more than I want them to be happy… I guess I finally understand why authors torture their characters! Lol! It might take a bit of time for me to sort out what their relationship looks like adding the distance factor, but I have some ideas that might work. Also, it might be an opportunity to do a bit more of Sy’s perspective, which I thoroughly enjoy, and may go back and fill in some blanks for him in between chapters I’ve already done. I hope you all enjoy this installment of the Treatment of Captain Syverson! Feedback in any form is always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

The rest of the weekend was spent in blissful relaxation. Sy went to his place to feed Aika and bring her over at Shane's insistence. The dog had been slightly standoffish with her, but Sy assured her that it was in her nature to be aloof, and that she needed to be engaged or instructed to behave more doglike.

"It's her training. She's still a soldier. It's hard for us to shake those habits. Like me calling you 'ma'am' at first."

"She's another die hard. I respect that." she chuckled, scratching Aika behind her perked ears, and eliciting pants of contentment from her.

Sy's skills with a spatula were unmatched. That was to say, he made the best pancakes she'd ever had. They almost didn't need syrup…almost. They ordered an obscene amount of Chinese takeout which lasted them about three meals each. Sunday evening, though, which had a gloom to it no matter the circumstances, required some comfort food. They agreed on pasta, so Shane made up some of her famous alfredo sauce and probably twice the recommended portion of pasta for two humans to consume. There were no leftovers. Sy had three helpings, himself. Three heaping bowls of it. Shane couldn't handle more than one and a half servings, even though she wanted to gorge herself. She knew too much would make her ill.

When they weren't eating, the were cuddling on the couch, or in Shane's bed. They watched more Parks and Rec, and a few other films and shows that Sy requested, just to break things up. Their bodies were constantly wrapped in each other, leading to frequent bouts of making out, fooling around, and sex in almost every room of the house.

Her favorite had been the shower. She insisted on getting cleaned up, but Sy had objections.

~~~~~~~~

"I'll be less than ten minutes, come on, I reek! You can't wanna kiss me when I smell like this!" she said, trying to shut the bathroom door on the human mack truck before her. Broad and formidable.

"You smell like sex, and…me, darlin. I've never wanted to kiss you more," he said, backing her up toward the shower doors. "but I guess if you must. Lemme help, though." he pulled open the glass door, forcing her into his captivating kiss, and maneuvering her backward into the walk-in, stone tile shower. He pulled off her tank top, capturing her breasts in his hands and mouth for a moment before kneeling to remove her shorts and kiss her thighs. He pulled himself away too quickly and started the water flowing.

"Sy, you're fully dressed!" he was barefoot, but otherwise, in jeans and her favorite of his tees. The letters DILLIGAF across a skull, black on red. She always laughed on the inside when she saw it. Because although Sy often had to put on a calloused and brusque act when he'd been an officer in the Army, he was terribly soft and sweet when the occasion called for it. The irony being that although he didn't look like he gave a fuck, he actually did.

"I've got more clothes in the truck and you've got a dryer." he maneuvered her under the pulsing stream of the showerhead. "Gotta get you wet." he let the water run through her hair as he reached for her shampoo, a coconutty concoction that reminded her of summer, squeezed a bit into his hand, and lathered it up. He worked the suds into her wet hair gently, raking his nails across her scalp in a way that excited and ignited every atom in her. She sighed at his touch which made him groan with need.

He tilted her head back to rinse the lather out and reached for the conditioner. He was a bit more generous with it than strictly necessary, but she didn't protest. He pulled her hair forward in two sections, one over each shoulder and worked the emollient into the strands. His hands slick from the product, he ran them over her breasts and her abdomen and hips…between her legs. There her own arousal was primed to combine with the tropical unction. She gasped as he worked his fingers over her, slow at first, but speeding up, only to slow again. When she finally whimpered in frustration, he undid his jeans, and backed her up to the stony grey wall, not giving a fuck, as his shirt had suggested, that he and his clothes were getting soaked. His only care now apparently, was to satisfy the simpering cries of "yes, please." from Shane.

His first few thrusts were slow and measured, knowing that she was still adjusting to his size. But it didn't take long for him to lose control. She wasn't sure what was making him like this, but she was not complaining in the least. The texture of his jeans on her bare, wet thighs was a sensation she wouldn't soon forget. She gripped at him, holding onto his shirt for dear life as her climax built to impossible heights.

She was loving the way he lost himself in the ferocity of the act. And his release led to hers immediately. She wrapped herself around him in blissful embrace, and whispered his name as a prayer.

"Sorry, darlin,' I meant to…"

"It's okay. I'm on the pill and I'm not at a particularly dangerous time in my cycle."

He kissed her tenderly and reached for her bath puff and some body wash. "Well, let’s get ya cleaned up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only good part about Monday was that she'd be treating him. Although, he was scheduled in the afternoon. Her morning would drag on eternal.

He greeted her with a typical "hey, susnshine" and she led him into the gym, feeling his gaze on her ass, wanting, even though they'd just left each other quite satisfied that morning. He was freshly showered, beard well groomed, and his hair growing back in very nicely. He'd asked her weeks ago whether he should keep the buzzed look or not, and she had been entirely for growing it out. She wanted something to run her hands through. She'd be fine if it was at least shoulder length, but she wouldn't push that on him.

They did their normal warm up on the bikes, followed by some plyometric drills, which made him scowl at her in a way that lit her up like a firecracker. But the fact that he was able to jump up onto the box was encouraging. He couldn't have done that a month ago. He was progressing so well and was so close to his long term goals and discharge. It almost made Shane sad. It wasn't as though they wouldn't see each other, but having him break up the insanity of her day three times a week for just an hour was invaluable.

As they were doing their usual end of the session stretch in her treatment room, and she noted the improved range of motion he was getting, he broke the amiable silence with a question.

"Hey, can I bring a pizza or somethin' over for dinner tonight after you get off?"

"Sure!" she could tell there was something he wanted to say, but was holding back. She prodded. "Everything okay? You've been a bit…off today."

"I'm good. Just a little distracted." he deflected by touching her hip, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She swatted him away.

"Not here, Sy."

"But that makes it fun!" he pouted.

"No, that really could get me fired! Getting frisky on company time!"

"Mmmm, I'd love to frisk you right now." he reached between their legs to try and grab her again, but she thwarted him and pinned his wrists at his ears.

"Cool it, cowboy, or your last two sessions are gonna make you wish you'd never met me." she threatened.

"Ain't nothin', nothin' on God's good green earth could make me wish that, sunshine." His stunning blue eyes softened her resolve and she let go, continuing to stretch him.

"Still…cool it." she grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd just had time to change into some comfy clothes, wash her face, and put her hair up when her doorbell rang.

Sy stood smiling under the porch light, a modern white knight, carrying a large pizza from Pizza Hut and a six pack of Miller High Life.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes! And it's nice to see you too, Sy!" she laughed, teasing him.

"Should I leave the victuals and go?" he asked, mock concern on his sarcastic brow.

"Get in here, soldier."

She got out napkins and paper plates because as horrible as it sounded, she just couldn't think about doing dishes tonight. She was even glad Sy had brought drinks in disposable or recyclable containers, and not wine, which she tended to prefer. She was exhausted, but not upset, which made the silence they ate in bearable. Sy still seemed to have something on his mind, though.

"Did you have something you wanted to talk about tonight, Sy?"

"Kinda, yeah, uh…it's kind of a big thing for me, and I know this is new, what we have, but…well, I'll just tell ya."

"Go on." she encouraged, worried.

"I…I talked to my old CO about jobs in the private sector. He referred me to a company that…well it's sort of an employment agency for vets. Mostly security for private companies and individuals. I had a phone interview with them this past Tuesday. I just got a call this morning that they want to meet me in person to finalize everything. Mostly a formality. When I go for that, I'll also have to stay there a couple of weeks to a month for training."

"Where is this…gig?" She said, flat affect hiding the feelings brewing under her skin.

"The offices are in Charlottesville…Virginia. And there may be some cross country training there in Shenandoah National Park."

"Cross country…by that do you mean survival training?" She was still cool, but getting more livid.

"You could call it that, I guess. But it won't be a challenge for me. I'm more worried about the technical stuff." His bravado and flippancy about the whole endeavor was enraging her. The thought that he'd be in the wilderness alone, was only a fraction of the big picture. He was going away for a month? And he had known about the job for a week now. A week in which so much about their relationship had changed, and shifted. How could he think she'd just accept this without a bit of raging.

"You waited until after we slept together to tell me this. You did it on purpose, Sy." that was the biggest problem, she thought. The fact that he seemed to be hiding it from her. It brought back old trauma that she thought he'd never have subjected her to.

"Yes and no, Shane. I wasn't intentionally keeping anything from you, I just didn't wanna bring it up until somebody bit."

"You wanted to keep me in the dark about something you were excited about? How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I didn't wanna get your hopes up or mine. Honestly."

"Saying 'honestly' doesn't make it honest, Sy. I've told you about everything that Elliott put me through. The lies. The secrets. This puts a bad taste in my mouth. You have to see that. Can't you?"

"Oh, sunshine, I--"

"No, please. Do not do that right now. Don't call me sunshine when all I can see is the night."

"I'm so sorry. My intention was not to make you feel in any way like that asshole ever did. Please hear me when I say that. I want to be the opposite of him in your mind in every way, darlin.' Please believe that."

There was so much sincerity in his voice, now nearing tearfulness that she felt he must be telling her the truth. She nodded. But was still apprehensive about the nature of the job and the training.

"But…what if you get hurt again?"

"I won't. You've all but fixed me, Shane. I'm stronger than ever."

"Can't you just…find a safe job? Here?" She was being selfish. She couldn't help it. Even though she knew she might regret it.

"Sit at a desk, ya mean? Deliver pizzas?" he indicated the box between them on the table. "Call people and ask them if they're happy with their cable services, Shane? Is that all I'm good for now?" he was angry.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, of course not. You're a PT. That's what you were meant to do, right? Well, imagine if you couldn't do that no more. Something or another, an injury, perhaps, or just plain ol' shitty situation, left you in a position where you couldn't go back. Couldn't do your dream job. Couldn't fulfill your purpose." he spat. "Wouldn't you do anything you could to be some shadow of what you were meant to be?"

She couldn't speak. Because he was right in so many ways.

"Because right now, I'm nothin'. I'm not doin' anyone any good. I'm a drain on my country, the one I swore to protect with my very life. It's like I've broken an oath. And it's fractured my soul."

"I see that. I truly do. But I need you here. You do ME good, Sy. I'm already half dreading d/c'ing you. I don't wanna have to say a goodbye, too." it was her truth. But it hit him very much sideways.

"So…what is it, Shane? You only want me when I'm broken? You only want me so you can fix me?"

"No, of course not! That's not what--"

"Am I a charity case to ya now? Is that why ya finally gave in and let me in your bed?"

"Sy, no!" she was crying now. It had hurt so much to think that he could have gotten that from what she'd said.

"I think if you can have feelings hurt about this situation then so can I."

He stood to leave, but she caught him by the wrist.

"Shane…you know I would never, ever harm you. But please… don't test my limits. Let… go." She did.

She was still quite a bit faster than him, so she ran ahead and blocked the door.

"Move." he insisted. She didn't.

"Hear me out, and then I'll let you go."

He crossed his arms and nodded, his gaze still one of cold steel.

"Sy, I didn't mean to make this job that you're clearly excited for into a source of anguish or to make it about me. I'm thrilled that you're going to get to do something you want in another field. I really am. I just…being with you has made me realize how good life can really be. And even if you'd told me before we slept together, I would have said the same thing. It was selfish of me to haul my baggage into the conversation when you aren't, have never been, and could never be Elliot. His best couldn't compare with your worst. And I will do my best in the future to think about who you are before I complain about the work you find to do."

"It's like I said about Aika before. She's a soldier. Hard trained. And so am I. It took a lot of hard work for me to get where I am, so much that it fundamentally altered who I am as a person. Now, in my opinion, those changes were for the better. I was kind of a shit before I became a soldier, thought the sun rose and set with me. I got some perspective and met some good people…lost some, too. Saw some shit I can't unsee. Some of it haunts me to this day, and I figure it always will. But I reckon if I can keep fighting the fight somehow. Keep protecting people in whatever way I can, my training and experience won't be a total waste."

"I understand and respect that, Sy. And I will back you in any way I can. I'll water your plants, I'll keep Aika whenever you're gone, I'm here for you."

"Oh, shit! I wasn't even thinking about having to leave my dog behind! Maybe this WON'T work!" he chuckled.

"Second fiddle to another woman already. I knew you were gonna break my heart, Captain Logan Syverson."

"Never intentionally, sunshine." he hugged her, tight, and with his whole body. Their argument in the past and their future an exciting mystery. Shane had never felt so safe and loved.

Up Next: Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program

[howrry]

hot yoga

a/n: this is one of my favorite things to write, idk why. i just love roommate slash best friend h, i guess. anyways, he walks in on you masturbating and basically loses his goddamn mind over the course of one (1) week. bon appetit!

warnings: smuttyyyyy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

w/c: 3.9k

***

THURSDAY

Harry didn't really take Y/N to be the type to masturbate during the day.

Not that he necessarily thought of his roommate masturbating at all. It's just... so risky for his normally tame best friend. So imagine the shock on his face when he came home early from work to hear her softly moaning in her room.

Honestly, at first, he thought she had a guy over. Of course, that didn't really explain why he still nosed in anyways. The two of them were quite close, but not close enough to openly talk about their sex lives. Harry assumed it was because she didn't date much and, out of respect, decided to keep his mouth shut about his own goings-on.

So maybe, then, it was out of disbelief that she would actually be getting anythat he slowly trudged up the stairs to her room in their shared house. As he approached her door, her noises got clearer and he could even hear her gasping for air.

Christ, he thought to himself. Who could be that good? Her door was cracked open just a bit, enough for Harry to peer through the gap and see her in bed... minus anyone else.

She laid in bed in her underwear, and he could see she'd tossed her clothes onto the floor haphazardly. One hand dipped into her panties and he could clearly see that she had her fingers deep inside herself. The other was poking into her bra and pulling at her nipples for more stimulation. In between her continued soft noises, Harry could even hear how wet she was.

It was in this exact moment Harry realized what he was doing. Why was he peeping on his roommate and best friend? Why was it so hard to tear his eyes away? Why was his cock fattening in his pants? Why, pray tell, was he still watching?!

He stumbled back a bit, trying to stay quiet, but the floorboard creaked. The door wasn't wide enough for her to see anything outside, but he figured his cover was blown since she suddenly silenced.

Nevertheless, he creeped back downstairs soundlessly, made himself a cup of tea, and decided to take the best route he could think of—pretend he didn't see any of that. Easy.

He hoped.

About twenty minutes later, when his dick was behaving again and he’d cleaned out his tea mug, Y/N hopped downstairs wearing the clothes he'd just seen thrown on the floor.

She acted mildly surprised to see him, making a note of his early arrival home. "We finished up our work for the day and the manager gave us the rest of the day off. Figured I'd come home and have a cuppa," he explained, not looking at her but rather lying on the couch and flipping through channels.

She nodded, hands on her hips and arms pointed back like a chicken. "Good idea. Think I'll go make one m'self," Y/N decided, awkwardly stumbling to the kitchen.

This time, Harry peeked a glimpse at her. He saw that her cheeks were a bit pink, and he was painfully reminded of what she was just doing. His filthy mind started to wander and he thought about if she was a full-body blusher. Did her chest brighten up a bit when--

Stop, he urged himself, rubbing his face with his whole hand. What was wrong with him?

Just pretend it didn’t happen, remember? He’ll be fine!

***

SATURDAY

Harry hated the summer.

The man was just not a heat-adapted person. He claimed it was because of his English roots that his body was naturally made for cold weather. Living out in LA made his career and social life much easier, yet the summer months were hell on his body.

He spent this toasty day on the couch with the A/C turned up high and a small fan in his hand while he read in the living room. Y/N read with him, neither of them saying a word to each other. They'd managed to talk a little since, ahem, the incident, but the conversations weren't very lengthy.

Suddenly, Y/N stood up and placed her Sherlock Holmes novel on the arm of her chair, bending the book's spine. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a green Otterpop. Without saying anything, Y/N picked her book back up and continued reading, enjoying the popsicle.

Harry didn't show it but he’d completely lost interest in his own book; his focus was on her now. She hollowed her cheeks around the treat, audibly sucking out the melting juice. Her lips were so pretty perched around the ice, colored pink by the temperature. He would've thought she was doing it on purpose had she not been so entranced by her reading material; it was like he wasn't even in the room at all. If he kept staring at her, he’d have a full blown hard-on any minute now.

"Can yeh stop?" he blurted, making her head snap up confusedly. He backtracked immediately, realizing he had no reason to say that. It was his fault for being a perv, she was just eating a damn popsicle! "I, uh, I want one and I'm jealous. Do we have any left?"

She nodded with innocent wide eyes, the popsicle still dangling out of her mouth held up only by her teeth. It was a stupid save and she probably saw right through it, but he was glad for the free exit and went to get his own, though he didn’t stop by the living room on his way upstairs.

***

MONDAY

The beginning of the next week had weather that was muchmore bearable, and it'd appeared the heat wave had broken. Harry had no time to appreciate it though, as he had a long and productive day at the studio to end his not-so-relaxing weekend. By the time he got home, the house was empty. He didn’t question this; Y/N tended to be the spontaneous type and could be out with one of her friends.

He busied himself with cooking a small bachelor dinner. After he’d finished his meal and the post-eating doze was just about to lull him to sleep in the living room, the sound of keys in the front door’s lock jerked him awake.

Harry sat up straighter on the couch, waiting until his roommate was safely inside. “Hey, H!” she called. She was only wearing a black sports bra and a pair of peach leggings. Over the course of living with her, Harry had noticed that Y/N’s body tended to soak up sun in these warmer months, evident by her glowy skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Where have yeh been?” he questioned, not bothering with a greeting. He knew his eyes were begging to dart all over her smooth, gleaming body, but he tried his damn best to be subtle.

She snickered, tossing her bag on the love seat across from him. “Good evening to you, too. Valerie and I went to hot yoga.” Y/N dug through her duffel to get her marbled Hydroflask out.

“Hot yoga? What’s tha’?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

“It’s just regular yoga but it’s in a room at 100-something degrees and 40% humidity,” she explained, opening her water bottle and taking a swig. Big droplets leaked out of the sides of her mouth and trailed down her jaw and neck to join the sweat on her skin.

He rolled his eyes, pinching his bottom lip. He was trying not to bite it and figured he’d attempt to be more inconspicuous. “I don’t speak American, how hot is that?”

“It’s hot. And humid,” she huffed. “But it relaxes your muscles so much and makes all your joints pop. It felt so good.” Her eyes fluttered shut and she stretched an arm across her torso, pressing her boobs together. Harry’s mouth popped open and immediately shut. “Actually, there’s one move I want to show you. How’s your back feeling?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Laying down on this couch isn’t the most comfortable, t’be honest.”

“Great!” Y/N grabbed H’s hand and guided him down to the floor. She hovered behind him as he sat with his legs extended. “Lift this knee,” she ordered, lightly tapping his right thigh.

He obeyed, extremely glad that his pants were thick black sweats. Her chest was brushing against his shoulders as she showed him what to do, and everywhere she touched him felt like it was on fire. He could only think about dead puppies to calm himself for so long.

“Cross it over the other knee, like you’re in a chair.” It was phrased like she was telling him what to do, but she still grabbed at him to move him into the desired position. She might have been a bit rough on him, though, and nearly crushed his family jewels between his legs.

“Whoa, easy, love,” he groaned, stopping her from man-handling him any further. “Some of us are a bit more delicate down there.” Y/N giggled, and Harry carefully crossed his leg over while remaining painfully conscious of her presence behind him.

“Now take your left elbow and put it on your lifted knee to twist as far as you can. Your back will sound like someone shuffling a deck of cards.” She put two hands on his shoulders to help him with the motion, and she was right. The stretch sent relief flooding through Harry’s body and the noises he made were borderline pornographic. “Feels good, hmm?” she purred into his ear.

He nodded, reveling in the feeling of her breath ghosting over his skin. “Try the other side,” she suggested, standing up and drinking more water.

“You should try going to hot yoga sometime,” she offered as he fully stretched out his spine, grabbing her bag and heading upstairs. “I’m gonna shower real quick. Do me a favor and pour me a rum and Coke?” she called behind her, not bothering to see if he agreed or not.

And Harry would be damned if he didn’t check out her ass in the leggings before getting up to make her a drink.

***

TUESDAY

Some nights are, in general, rougher than others in H's life, and this was one of those nights.

It wasn’t that the day was a complete disaster, it’s just that the studio had kept him much later than he'd anticipated. He was a very tenacious guy, but two long days in a row was just a bit much on his end. As he drove home, all he could think about was pouring himself a glass of MacMurray pinot and having an unwise later-evening nap. He sloppily dug his key into the lock and kicked his shoes off the second he was inside.

As he wandered through the halls of his house, he yanked out his headphones to reveal his roommate's voice coming from the kitchen. Given that it wasn't accompanied by another voice, he assumed she was on the phone.

Sure enough, he poked his head into the kitchen to see Y/N with her phone cradled between her shoulder and her cheek. She was making dinner while talking and didn't appear to notice Harry had arrived. He should’ve made his presence known given how this situation usually ended up, but he remained silent.

"You're lucky you have so many hoes, Val," Y/N noted, checking on boiling noodles and stirring them with a purple spoon. "If I'm trying to get fucked, I don't exactly have a lot of options."

At her words, he ducked out of the kitchen and hid in the hallway. Harry could chastise himself for being nosy later—he had to hear this conversation. There was some silence as Val responded before Y/N continued.

"I mean, dating for-real at this age sucks, and one night stands aren't what they used to be. All the attractive guys are cuffed up so now the only people prowling the bar scene are ugly or shit in bed." The two of them laughed. "And there's only so much my own hand can do," they giggled again before dissolving into a conversation about Val's new dog (how fast they were able to switch topics is beyond his grasp).

Harry took this as a chance to go back upstairs and pretend he never even heard that. Jeez—how many times will he have to remind himself that was the plan? How many times was this going to happen before it stuck? What was with him and barging in on Y/N during intimate moments and conversations?!

***

Harry woke up in the middle of the night with lips pressed against his neck.

At first, he couldn’t tell exactly whose lips were on him, but could tell it was some attractive female and decided to let it continue. He loved when girls spent a lot of time on his neck but didn’t give him love bites. He was so sensitive on his throat and chest that any kissing or sucking would leave him like putty in anyone’s hands. Harry decided to not question this and enjoy the lovely treatment.

The mystery girl did all the things he loved—she brought a hand up to rake through his sweaty curls, the other forced two fingers into his mouth to get them wet, and her kisses left wet patches all over his taut skin. The fingers between his lips dropped down, presumably to touch herself.

Finally, Harry needed to see who was doing all this to him. He lightly tugged the girl off by her hair, only to make eye contact with none other than his roommate Y/N.

“Y/N?!” he blurted. He was in utter shock—not only was he hard as a rock, but one of his closest friends is bare naked in front of him and trying to make out with his neck.

“Don’t think about it, love,” she purred, mocking his accent. Y/N tossed a leg over his body and grinded down onto his cock, kept separate by his boxers and the sheets on his bed. He could practically feel the heat coming off of her, if only it wasn’t for the barriers between them. In fact, the sheets seemed so tight around his legs.

Harry was suddenly washed over with anxiety and thrashed around, struggling to kick the sheets off his legs. Y/N stared at him like he was a maniac, which only made him panic more. Why wouldn’t the sheets come off his legs? Why wasn’t she helping him? Why was it suddenly so hot in there?

Harry woke up with his cock straining up against his stomach, forehead covered in sweat and bedsheets tangled around his feet just like in his dream. You know, the dream where he was about to have sex with Y/N.

He was grossed out when he thought about it, even though he had no control over his dreams. How could he be actually thinking about his totally platonic, totally innocent roommate like that? It almost felt dirtier dreaming about her than it did watching her touch herself. One of them was just a goofy accident and the other was rooted in some sub-conscious desire to bury himself in someone who probably trusted and respected him as a co-habitor.

God, did he need a therapist?

***

WEDNESDAY

“I’m thinking Chinese for lunch,” Y/N announced as Harry came into the living room.

He groaned. “The last time we had that, they messed up every part of our order. Can’t I have some time to heal?”

She lazily flipped through the last pages of the magazine in her hands. “It’s been six weeks, Harry. You have to give them another chance sometime.”

“You’re not the one who got duck in their order last time!” He indignantly crossed his arms. “Let’s just order in pizza.”

“Fine,” she sighed. Y/N pointed across the room to her phone on the TV mantle. “Go ahead and call that place down the street. I’m going to get some water.” She tossed the Cosmopolitanon the coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Harry with her phone. Alone.

It wasn't that Harry was a distrusting person, necessarily, he was just a bit nosy. He stared at the keypad in the phone app, switching over to the recent calls tab as quickly as he could. Most of them were pretty normal—her mum, Harry himself, her job, and so on… But what really confused Harry was the fact that the most recent phone call she’d made to Valerie was over two weeks ago.

Wait. He’d just heard her chatting with Val about her sex life yesterday. There’s no reason for her to have deleted the call so… it must have never happened.

Y/N had been playing him the whole time. His mind felt like it was short circuiting. He truly had thought he’d gone mad! She knew exactly what she was doing, at least ever since the popsicle incident. He wasn't sure if he should be mad or super turned on, but he was sure that she couldn't get away with this.

“Everything alright, Haz?” she asked, coming back into the living room with a sweating glass of ice water in her hand.

He scrambled to switch back to the keypad, hastily punching in the number to the shop and bringing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, m’fine! What’d you want on yours, again?”

***

THURSDAY

The next morning, Harry sat at the breakfast table, reading the paper and minding his business. A tiny rumble from his stomach made him consider eating something, since his tea wasn’t doing much for him. His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N joined him in the kitchen.

She fluttered in wearing only a t-shirt. It was a black band shirt that was long enough to cover her ass, but Harry still peered over his newspaper, wondering what kind of game she was going to play now.

The answer to that was metaphorically shoved in his face when Y/N got on her tip toes to reach a bowl on a high shelf; the hem of the shirt lifted as her arms did, exposing her panties. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes at first, but after a few seconds of shamelessly staring he realized they were the exact same pair she'd been wearing when he peeped her touching herself last Thursday.

They were silky and light pink, not covering her whole ass but not quite a thong. The fabric really framed her flatteringly and Harry felt an urge to grab her ass and maybe smack it, even more than he’d been wanting to earlier throughout the week.

Fed up, he scraped his chair back and threw down the paper. He marched over to her as she whirled around wearing that fake confused-and-innocent look she'd been rocking all week. Harry was quite done, however, and pressed her up against the counter, his semi-hard cock digging against her hip.

"Why are yeh doin' this to me, love?" he whispered, breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.

Her knees buckled, but she stayed standing thanks to H trapping her between his warm body and the counter. "I d-don't know what you mean."

Harry laughed dryly, grabbing her wrists and forcing them behind her, getting them even closer together. "That's enough of that, minx. Y’know you've been driving me mad all week just to get a rise out o’me." He smirked as his eyes dragged across her face.

She swallowed, trying not to break eye contact with this intimidating man. All she could do was nod.

His eyes darkened and he dropped his head down to her neck, brushing over the skin with his lips. "I want to hear you say it, pet," he growled. "Say you've been teasing me all week because you wanted my attention."

Her jaw dropped as he started sucking marks into her soft skin. "I teased you all week - oh God there - because I wanted your attention. Wanted you to fuck me."

Harry groaned at this, one fist coming up to yank at her hair. "Yeh think y’deserve that? You've been a real menace ‘n you shouldn’t get off that easy,” he demanded, grinding his cock into her hips. "You think you should get my cock inside your sweet cunt?”

“Yes!” she groaned out, knowing a nod wouldn’t suffice. The corner of his mouth tugged up once more, and he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her up to her bedroom.

He set her down on the bed and joined her, crawling on his knees. “There’s a move I wanna show you,” he started, yanking his t-shirt off from the back of his neck. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, pet,” he ordered. “You’re gonna lie on your back and you’re gonna touch yourself.”

Her brows furrowed and she sat up on her elbows timidly. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” he barked, voice low. “Don’t act shy now, I saw how you make yourself feel.”

She nodded, pulling her shirt off her body. She laid back down and timidly pulled aside her underwear to expose her cunt to Harry. His own palm dug into the front of his trousers as she warmed herself up, rubbing circles around the sensitive spot on her clit.

“Wish it was,” she breathed, “wish it was your fingers. They’re so much – uh– bigger.” Y/N was one to put on a show and Harry was eating it up. Her fingers dipped inside herself and came out glistening wet, and he finally pulled out his cock from his trousers to start stroking himself. Neither one of them were really giving any thought to how insane masturbating with your best friend was—all they could think about was how long both of them have waited to do this.

Harry caught her eyeing his cock slicking in his palm. “Wanna get your mouth on me?” Her doe eyes met his, and she confidently nodded. “Stay still then,” he commanded, “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

So she continued fingering herself and Harry climbed over her and straddled just below her shoulders, so his cock was right at her mouth. She obediently stuck her tongue out and he slapped the head on it a couple times, eliciting a groan from his mouth. Y/N latched her mouth around him and sucked like she did on that damn popsicle. H grabbed a fistful of her hair as the moans from her self-inflicted pleasure rang through his cock into his body.

The more she touched herself, the more she moaned, and Harry was starting to lose it. Her fingers worked herself over as the heel of her palm slid over her clit. She came on her own fingers, just like she did by herself awhile back, and arched her back below him as her orgasm rippled throughout her.

“Can I come on your face, pretty girl?” he begged, and she politely nodded, having trouble catching her breath with a dick in her mouth. He pulled out and painted her face with thick ropes of white cum, body shaking as the pleasure washed over him. “Fuck, pet, you’re killin’ me.”

Once they’d caught their breath, Y/N got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a new t-shirt on and a clean face. Harry had since put his boxers back on, and she joined him on the bed. He was the first to speak.

“So… do you wanna go to hot yoga now?”

[mcwriting]

one kiss is all it takes

I had this cute idea pop into my brain one night when I was tryna sleep and just couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It’s wayyyyy overly descriptive but this whole thing was basically me imagining every little detail possible and putting it on the page. I’m not one for ambiguity in my writing if you haven’t noticed lol. 

Anyways I’m still working on starstruck so here’s this for your troubles 

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland (plus mention of spidey)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (ik the beginning has Peter but it’s explained under the cut ;) lol)

Setting: good ol’ Atlanta, GA (aka a place I wanna visit so bad) 

Word Count: 4943 (omg I almost had a stroke reading that number this is my longest story to date)

Warnings: teeny bad word, some SeXuAl themes and kissing, as the title implies

Rating: T but it ain’t that extreme 

sorry it’s so long lol rip 

+

“Look, Peter, you may have been gone that 5 years, but I lost almost everything during them, and then, it all somehow got worse,” you explained through gritted teeth, standing from the end of your king sized bed to face him.

“My mom, my only source of comfort, was snapped, blipped, gone, sucked into a stupid rock for five years and me? I was stuck up here in this dumb apartment with an asshole father,” tears streamed down your face, confusing you, as you continued ferociously.

“You know what happened after maybe six months? He brought home his idiot secretary and flaunted her in front of me for over four YEARS! And guess what happened after the whole shebang was over and everyone came back?”

Your voice finally cracked and you stared at Peter for a moment before continuing.

“He pretended that he was faithful the entire time, all the while ignoring me and ruining every false hope I had that he was a decent human being. So you know what, spider boy? You may have been gone those five years, but I lost every good relationship in my life, so don’t come here pretending like you’re the only one with problems in this city,” you whispered.

He stood, reaching out to say something, but you held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. 

“You know what? Just get out,” you commanded.

“Wait I-”

“Out. Now.”

He stood for a brief second before stepping to your open window. Before he could put the mask on and go, a loud voice cut through the silence over a speaker.

“Cut!” Exclaimed Jon, causing both you and Tom to relax and smile.

You wiped the unintentional tears from your face. This had been your third take and for some reason, you had finally worked up a cry for the scene. It felt right, and Tom came over to compliment you on it. 

You were filming for another Spider-Man film and your character was a fresh take on Gwen Stacy, who had a new name similarly to Zendaya’s MJ. 

The character was a rich, somewhat bratty New Yorker who had been eleven during Thanos’s snap and grown into a sixteen year old Midtown student by the time everyone was revived. 

She hadn’t been on the European trip displayed in Far From Home, the excuse being that she was a model working events and doing photoshoots all summer. She also had become one of the most popular people in the school due to her internet fame, incredible academics, and wealth.

You had been shocked to receive the role but honored to become a member of the MCU. Over the couple of months spent in Atlanta by now, you had become integrated with the rest of the cast, getting especially close with your celebrity (and now real) crush Tom Holland. 

Weekends were often spent at the house Marvel provided him, where he lived with Harry and Harrison, who was once again able to tag along as Tom’s “assistant.” You lived only minutes down the road in your own small place and would go to Tom’s to swim or just hang out.

You and Tom were currently talking, you joking that you wished the scene was done so you wouldn’t have to bring out tears again. 

Almost prophetically, the Jason Bourne theme began playing over the speakers, Jon’s way of indicating that the scene was finished and needed no further work until post-production.

You looked to Tom and both of you sighed and held out arms for a hug and congratulations, ready to wrap the day as it was a late Friday night and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed all weekend.

You two began walking off of set to go to the trailers when Jon jogged after, calling out,

“Hold on guys, I need to talk to you about next week!”

He was holding two manila envelopes, each printed with yours and Tom’s names. Jon gripped them tightly.

“So I thought I’d give you these tentative scripts for the kissing scene so you two could prepare for Monday. As always, you can do some improv or try to make it better but I thought I’d give this as a heads up,” the director explained.

You were stunned, and surely looked it too. A quick glance at Tom showed he was more collected but definitely confused too.

“I’m sorry, Jon, but kiss? You never said there would be one between us I mean, he and MJ are still together, right?” You asked tentatively.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to agree with y/n, man. You said we might have a ‘moment’ but never mentioned a kiss. The fans’ll hate us,” Tom concurred, “but I haven’t read it yet so I’m sure it makes sense.”

“Wait did I not warn you guys? I’m so sorry. I mean we can change the scene if it makes you guys uncomf-”

“NO!” you exclaimed way too quickly, face heating up. “No, no, I mean, I’ll do it, if Tom’s in. I just, uh, didn’t realize we’d have to do an actual, real kiss is all.”

You had never kissed anyone before, and the prospect of Tom Holland being your first was unbelievably tempting. Tom had nodded along and agreed to move forward with it as well. With that and the scripts now in hand, you began walking to your trailers again, Tom alongside you.

After a few moments of silence under the artificial lights outside, Tom spoke up.

“Hey, would you maybe want to practice this scene at my place tomorrow? I know it was all kind of just thrown on us and I’d definitely feel better with some rehearsing.”

You smiled at the gesture, but again blushed at the thought of kissing Tom Holland, the guy you had been crushing on since Homecoming. You were glad that there was a shadow hiding your pink cheeks.

“Honestly, that’s perfect. I can come over at like 11 and after we can all have lunch and hang by the pool?” You asked, nervously hoping he would accept as you stepped in front of the steps to your trailer.

“That’s perfect, darling,” he replied, voice smooth and clear. You couldn’t help but look back at him walking away as you climbed the steps and went through the door, butterflies making themselves present in your stomach.

+

You slung your bag containing a swimsuit, sunscreen, towel, and snacks over the back of a chair and tossed your keys on the end table in Tom’s living room. You, Harry, and Haz sat on the kitchen counters while waiting for Tom to come out from a shower, joking around and sipping on beverages.

Soon enough, Tom came out and led you into the office, a small room with a couch, desk, and bookshelves that connected to the backyard with a sliding glass door. It was pretty private and well lit, giving you both a comfortable environment to work.

You started off by just reading over the lines and doing some basic marking, always stopping before the kiss. The scene would tie into Friday’s take, where Peter would return to your room to apologize, and you would kiss him out of nowhere in your distress. Then, you would promptly kick him out again upon realizing the ramifications the kiss could have on Peter and MJ’s relationship.

Finally, Tom suggested you work on the kiss by itself, 

“Before we do, can I make a confession?,” you questioned, chest beating heavily.

“Of course,” he said, full attention on you, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Look, Tom, I’ve never kissed anyone, in real life or acting. Can we please take this slow?”

“Absolutely y/n. I had no idea,” he looked around, “and since it’s your first time, I think a lesson is at hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow, then nodded, trying not to seem too excited. He led you over to the large, sturdy oak desk, gesturing for you to hop up.

“I know you’re in control of this during the actual scene, but if it’s okay I thought maybe I could lead it for right now? I get it if you don’t want to but-”

“No, no. That’s a great idea,” you pushed onto the desk and sat on the edge, legs dangling, “tell me what I’ve gotta do.”

He smiled and stepped forward.

“Okay, um. Well. Is it okay if I get between your legs, or put one knee in and,” you burst out in laughter at his wording, “Oh my God that sounded awful didn’t it I’m so sorry I just don’t want to push you further than you’re ready to go.”

“Tom,” you put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer, your knees now around his hips, “you’re doing great. And you know me, I’m not afraid to tell you what’s up if I’m not feeling it.”

He looked down at you sheepishly, then placed his hands on the desk on either side of you. Your position caused you to be only a few inches shorter than him, so as he leaned forward his face came even closer. 

The proximity made your heart race, and you tried to figure out where to put your own hands, settling on your lap for now. 

He grabbed your wrists and placed your palms on his back, then put his own on your shoulders. 

“Okay so is it alright if I put my hands on your neck and chin? Or do you want to do something different?”

“Dude, just do what feels right. You’re the one with experience. If it goes bad, then it’s bad and we figure out what to do, right?”

“Maybe you should be the one doing this then,” he chuckled, causing you to wrinkle your nose and shake your head. 

His fingers traced up your shoulders and neck, him placing the left on the nape of your neck, underneath your mess of hair, and the right just below your chin. He tipped your face up gently and you were now millimeters apart, so close that you could feel his hot breath.

“May I?” he whispered, making you gulp and give a slight nod. You could feel your eyes glazing over.

He took this as a yes and leaned in further, finally closing the gap. You closed your eyes completely to melt into his warm lips. The feeling of his fingers gripping your hair was like heaven, and after a seeming eternity, finally you separated to get some air.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt Tom brush his thumb over your lips. Upon opening your eyes and glancing up, Tom was looking at you with a soft grin mimicking yours. His left hand remained in your hair but he slid the right one down to the space between your shoulder blades.

“Was that alright for your first time, darling?” He questioned sweetly, words dripping like thick honey in the still air. 

It was like fireworks were going off around you in your head.

“I, um. It, yeah. Absolutely. I’m just... wow.” you stammered, unable to compose yourself properly. 

He breathed out a laugh and threw his head back, then went back to looking into your eyes. You studied the crinkles by his eyes and his lopsided grin closely, trying to burn the memory into your brain forever.

“Shall we try again?” he asked cheekily, and you responded with fervor once more.

He continued to move his right hand further down, palm spreading over the small of your back. Your nerves tingled at the touch and instinctively you arched your back. Your own hands found themselves on his shoulders and your legs wrapped all the way around his hips loosely.

The second time was longer, hungrier, more passionate. 

Am I dreaming? You promptly imagined, wondering how life had brought you to this moment.

After separating this time, you could see a ravenous flame in Tom’s eyes, and you decided to try something different. 

You told him to wait as you climbed further onto the desk, sitting on your knees and now towering a few inches above Tom. He looked a you with an interested glint in his eyes as you scooted closer.

Your hands found his again and this time you guided them to the lowest part of your back, hoping he would take the hint. 

With that, you were now in control, grabbing each side of his face between your palms and pulling him forward and up into another kiss, his hands instinctively traveling below your hips and onto your glutes, just as you had wanted.

Suddenly you broke the kiss, afraid you were coming on too strong. 

“This is all for research purposes, right?”

“Sure, we’ll call it that,” he quipped before pulling you back down.

Eventually you found yourself standing on the ground, once again shorter than Tom but happy nonetheless. The make out session continued, both of you trying to convince yourselves that with each new hand position or lean you were purely trying it all for the measly scene on Monday. 

Finally, you found yourselves on the couch. You had started by just sitting next to each other, similar to how the scene described your positions, but now somehow you were sitting straddled over his lap, knees digging into the sofa and his hands once again resting on your backside.

Nothing could ruin this moment you thought as your fingers ran through his curls.

Oh how wrong you were. 

You thought you were just imagining the sound of the door creaking open, but suddenly realized that you hadn’t when a new male voice spoke up.

“Woah, hey there you two,” Harry joked, causing you to whip your head around and stare at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Harry! It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” You immediately exclaimed.

Nice one, y/n. Like you aren’t just straight up making out with his brother??

“Righttttt. So anyways I just came to let you know that lunch is ready and also you guys have been in here for like an hour but feel free to finish up whatever... this is,” he trailed gesturing vaguely at you two before turning around and shutting the door behind himself.

You turned back to Tom, whose face was red as a tomato (and yours probably was too), then in record time separated yourself from his lap, heart pounding like never before.

“Sooo... lunch?” He asked awkwardly.

“Definitely. Definitely lunch.”

+

You were lounging on a chaise near the pool, sunglasses covering your closed eyes as you soaked in the sun. The boys were messing around in the pool and you couldn’t help but think about what happened before lunch every time Tom spoke.

“Hey y/n!” he called.

“Hmm?” you hummed, not bothering to look up. 

“Why don’t you join us? We want to do a chicken fight and I need a partner.”

“Depends. How warm is the water?” you ask, still unmoving. 

“Like 30 degrees! It’s so nice.”

“That’s below freezing in Fahrenheit. Not very appealing to me.”

“Alright that’s like, what, 85 f? It feels reeaaaally good, babe.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he called you babe. It wasn’t the first time he had, and he actually did it to a lot of people, but it still felt nice.

“Alright fine,” you sighed dramatically as you stood up, removed your sunglasses, and dove in.

+

An hour or so later, more members of the cast had come over and you decided to join Zendaya under the porch, both of you watching the new team of Jacob and Tom chicken fighting Harry and Harrison while Tony, Remy, and Angourie looked on from nearby.

“So I heard that Harry saw something going on earlier. Anything you wanna tell me?” Z mentioned slyly, lowering her sunglasses to eye you.

You groaned and placed your head in your hands.

“Is he really gonna tell everyone?” You managed to ask, wanting to crawl in a hole and hide forever. 

Zendaya had been the first person to confront you about your crush on Tom about two weeks after filming began. She had told you that most of the people on set had a suspicion but were afraid to ask, so ever since then you often confided in her for advice or just to spill tea.

Finally, you sat up and quietly told her what happened, her trying to hype you up occasionally while you instead tried to shush her as not to draw the boys’ attention.

That night, after pizza and drinks with everyone, you prepared to go home, grabbing your bag, keys, and script. You called out a goodbye to everyone still there and waved, heading to the door.

Tom jumped up and followed you.

“Hey, y/n!” you turned around at his voice and could see everyone elbowing each other and whispering in the beackground. He led you out the door and shut it behind him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright after today and say I’m sorry if I ever took things too far,” he confessed. Your heart swelled at how sweet and considerate he was.

“Honestly Tom, I could say the same. I’m was afraid you think I’m crazy or something,” you joked, causing a chuckle from both of you and him to shake his head. 

“I could never. You already know how crazy I am, and I think I’ve already seen some of your wild side too,” he shot back.

You both said your goodbyes and went in for a hug. It lasted a few seconds longer than normal, and when you pulled away, he looked down at his feet. Even then, he still waited on the porch for you to get in your car and waved as you pulled away, making sure you got out safe.

+

It was 5 am Monday morning and you weren’t ready to head to set. 

Your Sunday had been pretty standard, reading over lines in the morning and hanging out with some of your cast mates that afternoon. Once night fell, though, you found it difficult to sleep in fear of the kiss scene. 

Yours and Tom’s Saturday afternoon kept replaying in your head like a Twitter gif until you finally succumbed to exhaustion, dreaming still about a certain celebrity, so you weren’t exactly well rested upon waking.

Once arriving to your trailer at Pinewood Atlanta, you dropped off your things and headed straight to hair and makeup. The scene would be set at night as your character prepared to go to bed, so only a light coating of natural foundation and clear mascara adorned your face and your hair was tied back in two french braids.

You were glad that your makeup was so quick today, but you also didn’t want to leave as dread filled your stomach about the scene.

It was one thing to make out with Tom Holland in the privacy of his own home, but another to plant one on him in front of the cast, crew, and cameras.

You headed to wardrobe, where you got dressed into comfortable black leggings and an oversized midtown sweatshirt. 

You were walking out when Jon, looking down at his phone in hand, almost ran into you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Oh, hey, y/n! Just the person I was looking for. I just wanted to see how you were feeling about this whole kissing scene. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you laughed, “but really, Tom and I worked through it Saturday so I think it’ll be alright.”

“Right, yeah I heard about that. Harry said you guys were pretty... thorough about the scene. Well anyways, we’ll call you and Tom to set in a little bit. He’s getting in the suit right now. See you later!” Jon walked off, going back to his business on his phone.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in place, mortified. Why did Harry have the need to tell everyone that he caught you locking lips with his brother? It was just research, after all, nothing serious, you tried to convince yourself again.

You of course shouldn’t have been surprised. Leave it to a Holland brother to keep his mouth shut...

+

You walked onto the bedroom set, where Tom was already present with his back to you, getting some last minute translucent powder over his t-zone. 

His ass and thighs looked exceptionally good in the suit today, the tight material hugging his muscular body nicely. 

You felt a little bad that your costume was literally pajamas and Tom’s was spandex, but hey, you weren’t necessarily complaining. 

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off any “intrusive” thoughts, considering the high you were still riding from Saturday and your nervousness for the shoot. 

When Tom turned around and his eyes met yours, his face lit up.

“Hey, darling. Good morning. How are you? Are you ready?” he immediately began, his chipper voice surprising you considering how early it still was. You both went in for a hug.

“Good morning to you, too. And I think so, considering how well we prepared the other day,” you joked quietly into his shoulder. 

You both pulled away and he had his eyebrows raised in response to your smirk. 

He was about to rebut when Jon made his way over, putting one hand on each of your shoulders. 

“Alright you two. I know you worked things out over the weekend, but you guys are gonna have to hold back a little bit, this may be an intense scene, but not that kind,” he chastised, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

Jon was eyeing both of you, and you and Tom both looked to find each other blushing like mad.

With that as confirmation, Jon clapped his hands together and yelled out for the production team to get in their positions so you could camera test and eventually shoot the scene. 

With everything planned out, you both got into character and found yourself in place to begin. 

The AC held a clap board in front of the camera, waiting for the all clear to begin your take.

“Alright, action,” Jon called over the microphone. 

You walked across the room, stopping in your footsteps. 

“Peter...” you trailed in surprise. 

He pulled off the mask and shook his head, motioning for you to wait and allow him to speak.

He began apologizing, trying to convince your character to give him a second chance and even try to be friends.

Then he started talking about his parents and uncle Ben, causing your face to fall over time as realization that both characters had experienced extreme loss in different ways, his much worse than yours. 

Both of you eventually sat on the side of the bed closely and looked at each other, a sad expression glazing your features. You looked down in thought.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked tentatively.

An overwhelming urge took you over and your lips crashed into his. You had squeezed your eyes shut and put a hand on his shoulder. Peter stiffened like a board, but then kissed back.

Suddenly, you pulled back, eyes wide open. 

“Oh my God. You’re with MJ. I just kissed a taken man. Peter, you just kissed me back!” 

Panic overcame your voice. 

“You have to leave, now!” you exclaimed in your alarmed state.

“Wait, we can talk about this, it wasn’t what you think!”

“Peter, I can’t do this to your girlfriend. She doesn’t deserve this. You need to go, and you should probably give her a heads up about what happened. But please,” your voice was desperate now, “make sure she knows it’s my fault. Make her hate me, not you.”

Parallel to the last scene, Peter went back to your open window, ready to mask up and swing out.

“Cut!” Jon called out again, then asked you to stay in your positions while he came down.

“Guys that was great!” he began upon getting closer. He then gave you both a few notes, explaining that you would need to do the shot a few more times at least to get it really solid. 

After every take, both you (and hopefully Tom) became more comfortable kissing in front of the crew. It took another twenty or so takes with different motivations and movements and angles before Jon called it done.

Both of you suspected that he and everyone else really just wanted you to kiss more, but no one would mention it out loud.

With the scene finished, everyone prepared to film other parts of the movie where Peter would have his mask off and you got to have a few breaks, watching from afar with Harry, Harrison, and some of the other assistants.

Harry leaned over at some point during the afternoon.

“You two really tamed it down, huh?” he whispered. You gave him a backhanded hit to the bicep.

“Oh shut up. We were acting, that’s all.” 

He raised a suspicious eyebrow and leaned in again.

“Tell that to the video Harrison got of you two in the study. He may or may not have set up a camera in the bookcase,” he suggested, glancing over to Tom’s oblivious best friend.

You gasped and straightened up.

“I’ll kill him,” you too looked to Haz, then Harry again, “but after he shows me the footage.”

+

A long filming day had once again commenced, and you were packing up your bag to head home when a knock was heard on the door of your trailer. 

The distinct rapping pattern alerted you that it was Tom and you opened it up to see him looking down at his phone. 

“Hey, y/n. Ready to walk to the parking lot?” he asked holding out his hand to help you down the steps. 

For a while now, Tom or one of his “assistants” would usually walk with you to your car for safety purposes, especially if it was dark out. 

As you both strolled through the darkness, you couldn’t help but notice the slower pace you both took on, trailing quite a few yards behind Harry and Haz, both of whom laughing at who knew what while going to Tom’s vehicle.

“So I think today went well,” you brought up, not sure where it would go.

“Yeah it was fun. I do have to say, however, that Saturday was a bit more enjoyable than this morning,” he implied, eyeing you.

“Oh yeah? I’d agree, but I hear that your best friend happened to catch it all on video.” 

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“That voyeur, always ruining the moment. Maybe we oughta try it again sometime, without the threat of others watching,” Tom suggested, surprising you. 

You decided to get bold.

“You’re not even gonna take me out first? The nerve of some people,” you jokingly scoffed, gazing away from Tom at the cars highlighted in moonlight.

“Okay,” he replied, mimicking the way you had looked away when you turned back to face him. There was a faint smile on his lips. 

“What?”

“I said okay. Let’s go on a date.”

You stopped in your tracks and fully turned towards him and he followed suit. 

“You don’t mean that do you? Like, you actually would take me on a date?”

“If it meant that I could kiss you one more time I would take you on a million dates,” he replied sincerely. 

You couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped in surprise. Both of you stood silently staring at one another, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, you burst into giggles and he did too.

“That was so cheesy!” you exclaimed between laughs, both of you doubled over, and he nodded in agreement.

After calming down you gave him a toothy grin. 

“The answer is yes, by the way.”

“Really?” he asked incredulously. 

You began walking again, your car just in sight. 

“Of course. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve had a huge crush on you since before we even met,” you confessed. You stopped again, just behind your car bumper.

“Coulda fooled me. I thought I was the one being obvious. I have been attracted to you since the first time we met, and my feelings have only grown since knowing you.”

 You couldn’t help the butterflies erupting in your stomach and your widening smile as you looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I think I could make one exception right now, as long as you’re willing to make it up later?” you proposed, your eyes looking to the moon and stars now as you awaited his reply.

“I think that’s a debt I can handle,” he responded, snaking a hand around your waist and the other up under your chin again. 

He closed the gap between you both and you smiled against his lips, eyes closing in euphoria. 

You could’ve probably stayed there forever, but the hoots and hollers of the other two British boys just across the aisle made you both pull away. 

You looked towards the voices to find Harry and Harrison sticking out of the sunroof of Tom’s Audi A8, where they were still cheering and Harrison was holding up his phone to film. 

Both you and Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the once again unfortunate circumstance as he threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you close and you put one hand on his chest next to where you rested your head. 

Maybe you two were destined to be seen every time you smooched, but hey, at least you were the one kissing Tom Holland. 

+

A/N: yo this took way too long to write. Mostly bc I’m still in the process of writing starstruck and I always get stuck deciding on which piece to work on every night but alas! It is done! I’m proud of this one. I know it’s long, but I think it’s worth it ya know? Hope you all enjoyed! XO love y’all :)

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 5 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 5

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings: Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction!  I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

Nikki had missed (Y/n) on Tuesday, but Wednesday she only had to work with no classes, so she worked in the morning and went home. She wasn’t sure if she should call him or not. She didn’t want to seem desperate. She was about to go shower when her phone rang.

“(Y/n)?” NIkki asked with a smile when he answered with a gasping ‘hello?’ “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No. I was just gonna grab a shower but heard the phone and rang back.” (Y/n) laughed. “How was your gig?”

“It was good! The crowd was awesome and we got to play our new songs so I think it’s going well.” Nikki smiled. “How was your day?”

“I argued with someone at work because I was right and he was wrong, but he didn’t want to admit it because I’m a woman.” (Y/n) shrugged. “He should be lucky I’m not one of my siblings because I probably would’ve punched him in his nose.” She sat down on her bed. “It was pretty boring besides that, but I was listening to some really good music on my Walkman.”

“Yeah? Anyone I know?” Nikki sat on his bed before he leaned back.

“Just this band called Motley Crue. Not sure if you’ve ever heard of them but their bassist is pretty hot. I really dig his green eyes.” (Y/n) laughed.

“Should I be jealous,” Nikki teased with a laugh. “I miss seeing you and I can’t wait until Thursday.” NIkki admitted.

“I miss you too.” (Y/n) admitted. “If I hadn’t had a test Tuesday morning, I would’ve been there Monday night. I can’t wait until Thursday either.”

“Makes it worth the wait then,” Nikki smiled. “So I should be at your place tomorrow at 6, I was thinking maybe Risky Business or The Outsiders?

“Have you seen either of them?” (Y/n) asked.

“I haven’t but we could always catch, E.T.? ” NIkki wasn’t sure what she liked. But he was willing to try any movie just to be with her.  

“E.T. The Extraterrestrial would be nice. I just didn’t want to make you see a movie you’ve already seen.” (Y/n) laughed.

“Hey man, It looks like a cool movie,” Nikki shrugged.

“I’ll see anything with you. Even scary movies.” (Y/n) blushed. “I mean...uh horror movies are cool…”

NIkki let out a laugh, “Don’t sweat sweet girl. I’ll protect you.”

“I feel much better already.” (Y/n) smiled. “Do you have anything to do? I don’t want to keep you from it.”

“I’m good. Besides I rather hear your voice over Vince and Tommy squaking.” Nikki sighed.

“They sound like joys.” (Y/n) laughed, knowing just how much of a joy Tommy was.

Before Nikki could keep talking , Tommy burst through his bedroom door. “Come on bitch we’re going to a…” Tommy stopped mid-sentence and sighed. “Hi girlfriend! Is it ok if I steal your boyfriend from you!” Tommy yelled as he tried to chace Nikki to get the phone.

“Back off man!” Nikki said. Tommy went to grab the phone and they accidentally hung up on (Y/n). She looked at the phone as she heard the dial tone and laughed. She put the phone down and went to go get a shower.

“Hello? Hello?” Tommy said. “There’s no one there.”

“You asshole! You hung up on her!” Nikki began punching him in the arm repeatedly.

“Ow! Stop!” Tommy said. “What are you so mad about?”

“I haven’t talked to her for two days you jackass!” Nikki kept punching him. “We could have been having phone sex but no you had…” he punches Tommy again. “To fucking barge into my room.”

“Dude, just go have real sex with someone.” Tommy said, backing away and rubbing his arm. “Not my fault she only wants to date you through the phone!”

“You know we have a date on Thursday you idiot,” Nikki grumbled as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen to grab something to eat only to find the refrigerator empty. “You have got to be shitting me!”  

“So, where is that date at again?” Vince asked, leaning on the counter.

“NO!” Nikki yelled. “Okay, number one, I need food. Number two,  I am not telling you guys jack shit about my date until after it’s over!”

“You’re telling us you don’t want us to chaperone?” Mick asked from his seat in the living room.

“I don’t want you fuckers anywhere near my date tomorrow,” Nikki growled. He grabbed his jacket and his keys and climbed out of the apartment window to get to his car. The cops kept getting called at their parties and they nailed the door shut.  

He made his way to the grocery store he liked to go to. Heading inside, he got a cart and made his way around. That’s when he heard a familiar voice.

“Yeah, so Athena’s joining us and I might have hinted about cooking when she called this morning.” (Y/n) told Vanessa as they walked around. “I should’ve promised pizza or something instead.”

“That would have been easier,” Vanessa laughed as she helped (Y/n) with her groceries.

“I guess I could get a frozen pizza and tell her I made it from scratch.” (Y/n) laughed. She sighed a little. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I miss Nikki.”

Nikki turned the corner leaving his cart for just a second. He crept up and gave a mischievous grin before tickling (Y/n)’s sides making her jump. (Y/n) went to turn to her attacker and paused to give a joyful squeal.

“Hey sweet girl,” Nikki said as he hugged her tight and picked her up in his arms, “small world.”

"Nikki! What are you doing here?" (Y/n) asked with a laugh. She didn't want to leave his arms.

“Tommy ate everything in the fridge so I’m feeling a bit hungry. I have to scavenge for food.” Nikki put her down and smiled. “You having a girls night?”    

"Yeah. My sister is coming over to hang out with me and Nessa." (Y/n) looked around. "Where's the rest of the guys?"

“I left them back at the apartment,” Nikki pulled her in for a chaste kiss. “I’m just trying to figure out what food I need to grab so that Tommy doesn’t steal it.”

“Healthy food.” (Y/n) said. “I mean, he looks like the type that wouldn’t touch a carrot unless it was coated in chocolate.” Vanessa shook her head to keep from laughing. “Or we could go get something to eat. My treat.” (Y/n) was nervous and Vanessa could tell by the look in Nikki’s eyes that he thought she was the cutest thing ever.

“Aren’t you cooking for your sister though?” Nikki held her close, he didn’t want to let go. “I don’t want to distract you from feeding your sister.”

“Trust me, her brother and sister would eat literal garbage if it was served to them on a plate.” Vanessa laughed. “Go on you two. You haven’t seen each other since what? Sunday?” (Y/n) blushed.

“Nessa…” (Y/n) was worried Nikki would think she was coming on too strong.

“Have I mentioned that I like this friend,” NIkki looked at (Y/n), then turned to Vanessa holding out his hand. “Nikki Sixx.”

“Vanessa…. But you can call me Nessa. So, any chance I can get hooked up with Vince?” she gave him a smile.

“I’m not sure you want to get hooked up with Vince.” Nikki chuckled.

“You hook me up with little Vinnie and I can keep him distracted,” Vanessa gave him a sly smile and a wink. “You could use the help. Now go eat and I’ll meet you back at the dorm (Y/n).” She left, leaving Nikki and (Y/n) at the grocery.

“I’m just gonna order my sister pizza,” (Y/n) laughed. “I’m not even sure what to make her.”

“That does sound like a plan,” Nikki smiled. “Where would you like to eat?”

“We could go back to the diner. Their food is really good.” (Y/n) smiled at him.

“It is very good. Should we put this back since you’ll be ordering pizza?” NIkki caressed her cheek before pulling her in for another kiss. Something about the way her lips felt against his was intoxicating.

“Yeah. I don’t have much.” She just had some bread and garlic powder in her cart. “Get in and I’ll push you.” She laughed.

NIkki gave her a mischievous grin before climbing inside the basket. “Let’s go!” She smiled and pushed the cart, running towards the bread aisle. That’s when the manager grabbed her arm, stopping her from running.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. (Y/n) glanced over at Nikki, who was almost stuck in the basket.

“Relax man we’re just having some fun,” NIkki said as he got out of the basket almost falling on his face. “We’re putting the stuff back. Decided to eat out instead.”

“You can leave the cart and get out,” the manager said. “Or I can call the cops.”

“Relax, we’re leaving, we’re leaving.” Nikki held his hands up before taking (Y/n)’s hand and leading her outside. As they climbed into his car they looked at each other and burst out laughing. “That was fun.”

“I’ve never gotten in trouble before,” (Y/n) shook her head and turned to face him. “I think you’re a bad influence Mr. Sixx,” she muttered as she brought her face close to his.

“What can I say,” Nikki shrugged with a devilish grin. “I make good girls go bad.” He reached for her cheek caressing it slowly before they leaned in and kissing her gently.  

“What do you say we go get you some food?” (Y/n) asked when they broke apart. Nikki took her hand as he drove them to the diner. “So, did you hang up on me?” She asked shyly, glancing over at him.

“That was Tommy’s fault,” Nikki sighed. “I’m sorry about that (Y/n), He’s an idiot who just can’t stop being a goofball.” With a smile, he parked the car at the diner and turned to her. “All I want to do is kiss you.” with that he leaned in and kissed her deeply.  

“Unfortunately, that won’t make you not hungry.” She laughed. “Come on rockstar. It’s my treat. Anything you want.”

NIkki laughed as he got out and ran around to help her out of the car.

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function

Too Young to Fall in Love Tags:  @kingbouji3 @leximus98

[artificialqueens]

as the stars align 2/? (branjie) - rujubees

A/N: also on ao3

It was seven am on a Monday in late March, the first day of production on As the Stars Align, and it just had to be the day that Brooke’s cat Apollo decided to fall ill. He had been vomiting for a few hours now, and Brooke didn’t want to take any chances, deciding to call the vet when she was ready to leave for set and he still hadn’t stopped.

Naturally, her next step after that was to call Nina.

“God, what if he ate something poisonous? What if he’s really sick?” Brooke asked, tears filling her eyes at the thought.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, sweetheart. Can you imagine if you called the doctors every time you threw up? He probably just has a hangover,” her friend teased.

“That’s not helping, Nina.”

Brooke placed her on speaker, ushering Apollo inside of the cat carrier.

“Dammit, there’s no way I’m getting to work on time. Fuck,” Brooke cursed. She positioned the phone between her ear and shoulder, carrying Apollo out of the house.

“Relax, I doubt Katya Zamolodchikova has a single angry bone in her body, or Asia for that matter. No way are they gonna care about the star of the show being half an hour late.”

“God knows how long his appointment is gonna take, though.”

Brooke slammed her car door shut, thinking about how it was way too early in the morning to be this sweaty and this exhausted.

“Um, Brooke? Don’t act like you don’t have someone on speed dial who can take care of him for you.”

“I can’t force him to socialise, not right now. He hates people, he barely likes me.” Brooke let out a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sob.

“Can’t you at least get a chauffeur or some fancy shit?”

“They don’t drive fast enough. Too concerned about safety and laws and shit.”

Nina laughed.

“Brooke Lynn, I love you, but if you land your speeding ass in a cell they’re gonna set your bail super high and I don’t think I could afford to pay it, even if I wanted to.”

“I gotta go. I love you too.”

—

Brooke made it to set at exactly nine twenty-two am, nearly two hours after her call time of half seven. It could’ve been worse, especially as they didn’t have much to shoot that day, but by the time her hair and makeup would be done it would already be approaching afternoon. It was a significant delay for sure, and some people would be pissed. Thankfully, Brooke had made some phone calls while waiting at the vet’s, and Katya and Asia were perfectly understanding. Even Michelle, who came down hard on punctuality, was able to sympathise.

What still sucked, though, was that she didn’t know what was wrong with Apollo yet. They’d kept him around to do some tests, and Brooke had reluctantly left his side, knowing that she was of no help anyway if she stuck around. At least work might serve as a distraction.

It was easier said than done, however, as she showed up to work unable to focus on anything but her baby, feeling like fragile glass that could shatter at any moment. It was a situation that was sure to culminate in either a mental breakdown or a lashing out aimed at the first person she came into contact with.

As soon as she saw Vanessa’s fiery brown eyes looking her up and down in a judgemental stare, she decided it was going to be the latter.

Before anything more could happen, Brooke felt a hand on her arm, and turned to see Katya inviting her into a warm hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she said warmly.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Brooke reassured her, squeezing back, trying to convince herself too that it would all be okay.

They let go and Brooke went off to take her place in hair and makeup. She made easy conversation with her makeup artist, Yvie, while waiting for her hairstylist Shuga. Yvie showed her a portfolio of looks she had put together, leaving Brooke in awe of her creativity.

“I should paint you like this for the movie, bitch,” Yvie said, pointing to various gruesome effects she had used in her makeup. “Can you imagine Michelle’s face when I stick you on set looking like a fucking Cyclops?”

Yvie let out a deep, contagious laugh at the mental image, and it wasn’t long before Brooke was joining her. It took her a minute to notice that Vanessa had also entered the trailer and sat down a few feet away in her own makeup seat, looking especially irked at the scene before her.

“Really, bitch? Two hours late and all anyone wants to do is fuckin’ cuddle and kiki with you.”

Vanessa was pissed as hell, and Brooke could feel her own face heating up.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Brooke snapped, wishing she was able to come up with a wittier response.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Out here wasting all of our times and you don’t even have the decency to apologise or feel bad about it.”

Shuga, along with Vanessa’s makeup artist Aquaria and hair stylist Kameron, started shuffling into the room. Brooke decided to hold her tongue and simply direct Vanessa with the most venomous look she could muster. She was surprised when her co-star didn’t back away in response with even so much as a flinch.

As the minutes traipsed by, keeping quiet was harder than Brooke thought it would be — all she wanted to do was go at it with Vanessa, sparring insults back and forth for hours. She wasn’t normally the confrontational type, but Vanessa was testing her.

They both kept to themselves for the rest of their time in the trailer, the silence being filled instead by the hair and makeup artists talking among themselves, clearly sensing the tension between the two leads.

Brooke couldn’t comprehend why Vanessa was being so harsh on her for being late one time. She doubted that anyone had told her the reason for her lateness, but Vanessa was hardly in a position to complain — she had been paid to sit around doing nothing while Brooke had been worrying her damn guts off. Okay, sure, she hadn’t been the most friendly to Vanessa the first time they’d met, but she’d remained perfectly professional. Since the chemistry read, her mind had flashed back to her first encounter with Vanessa an unreasonable amount of times. She couldn’t stop thinking about her annoying smug smirk that had seemed to be mocking her or those long, thick eyelashes fluttering all over the place, acting like she was all innocent. She knew she was making no sense, but something about the girl had just irked her from the start, and Brooke couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Much to Brooke’s relief, she received a text from the vets at some point during the time she had been mentally cussing Vanessa out: Apollo was going to be fine. She let out a shaky breath but wasn’t gonna let herself get emotional over this — at least, not now in front of the damn trailer party.

After a while, Shuga, Yvie, Aquaria and Kameron left the pair alone, instructing them to wait for their makeup to dry or something that was probably a load of bullshit.

“If y’all lock this door on us on your way out, I swear ima whoop your ass,” Vanessa warned them.

Brooke turned to her, feeling calmer than she had been earlier, but Vanessa still had a lot of work to do in order to get on her good side.

“Can we go film this shit?” Brooke said, cringing as it came out more coldly than intended, even to her own ears.

Vanessa clenched her jaw, paused, and then stood up.

“Fine, but know that I don’t like you.”

She took off without a second look back, and it all stung just a bit more than Brooke was expecting.

—

“A’keria was right. She’s the worst,” Vanessa conceded a few days after she first started working with Brooke Lynn. She had been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt after their initial encounter, everyone has off days after all. But not only did she have the sweet nerve to show up late to their first day on set, she also followed it up with no apologies or explanations and instead went snuggling up to Katya and giggling with Yvie. Vanessa had felt a stab to the chest when she walked in on Brooke with the latter, the pair acting like they had known each other for years and laughing without a care in the world. Vanessa knew she was a handful and that her personality wasn’t for everyone, but Brooke hadn’t even made an effort to get to know her. Vanessa couldn’t wrap her head around it. It made whatever Brooke had against her feel all the more personal.

“I never said she was the worst,” A’keria corrected her, pulling Vanessa from her thoughts with her annoyance at either being misquoted, or having her favourite reality show interrupted, or both.

“Well, she’s the most rude, stuck up, unprofessional hoe I’ve ever met,” Vanessa huffed dramatically.

“I mean, if it doesn’t affect her acting…” Silky offered pityingly.

“I dunno, I feel like it’s fucking with mine. I’m surprised Michelle hasn’t fired me yet. How am I supposed to pretend to be in love with the bitch when all I wanna do is rip that stupid blonde hair out of her pretty little head?”

A’keria and Silky exchanged a glance Vanessa couldn’t decipher.

“Just… channel all of that anger and turn it into a different kind of passion,” Silky advised with a shrug.

“Whatever,” Vanessa said, feigning indifference, her cheeks warming at the thought of the passionate scenes she would be sharing with Brooke soon enough. She couldn’t let herself think about that yet, forcing her mind to practically shut off whenever the topics of Brooke Lynn and Kissing would start to overlap. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it.

“Speaking of passion…” started A’keria, wiggling her eyebrows unsubtly. “How’s your man, V?”

“He’s fine, but what does that have to do with passion?”

“You’re so romantic it makes me sick,” Silky quipped sarcastically.

A’keria chuckled in agreement before turning serious again.

“Seriously, Vanj. If you’re that bored, just stomp your little legs over to that white bread boy and say, ‘I dump your ass!’”

“I’m not bored!” Vanessa argued defensively. “Things are nice between us, you thirsty hoes would get it if either of you had been in a relationship that lasted longer than three months.”

“Okay. Then tell me, when was the last time you got laid, girl?” A’keria questioned with a knowing look as Silky pursed her lips.

“I — I…” Vanessa stammered and inwardly scolded herself for being so obvious. She loved A’keria and Silky, but also hated them for always seeing straight through her. Moreover, she hated herself for actually needing to think back in order to find the answer to that question.

A’keria turned her attention back to the TV, clearly satisfied with herself, while Silky gave her a look that screamed ‘I told you so.’

“Fine. You know what?” Vanessa stood abruptly as Silky and A’keria watched on with bemused expressions. “I’m gonna go see him now and we’re gonna have the hottest, steamiest fuckin’ sex, the sun is gonna wish she was me, bitch.” She stalked off on a mission, too embarrassed to seek out her friends’ reactions but feeling their confused expressions on her anyway.

—

When Vanessa walked through her apartment door, she was already regretting ditching her friends in order to prove a point. It was a particularly muggy evening for spring in LA, and she wasn’t in any type of mood to be getting even sweatier.

“Oh! Hey babe,” Matt said, surprised to see her home so soon just like she had originally hoped for. She’d had a whole plan to show up out of nowhere and seduce him, right there and then, hoping that the spontaneity would mean that they would actually go through with it for once instead of scheduling sex into their busy diaries and putting it off each time. Vanessa would be lying if she said she was still feeling her original idea, but decided to try and slowly ease herself into it instead of jumping his bones right off the bat.

“Hi,” Vanessa greeted him with a peck on the lips.

“You’re back early. I thought you were hanging out with the girls tonight.”

“Yeah, well… I missed you,” Vanessa replied weakly.

“Oh?” Matt asked, a hint of flirtation in his voice as he pulled her onto the couch with him and brought his lips down to meet hers. They made out for a few minutes, and it was comfortable. It was nice. Silky and A’keria were wrong; Vanessa had no reason to get rid of this. So maybe it wasn’t a love story on par with The Notebook, but Vanessa knew better than most people how fake and constructed those were. If there was one thing her and Brooke could agree on, it was that the two of them were a testament to that fact.

Vanessa was thankful when Matt pulled back; she could tell this wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

“How was work? You seem stressed lately.”

“You would be too if Satan’s daughter was your colleague,” Vanessa sulked.

“Aww, I’m sure I can make you feel better,” Matt answered in a voice Vanessa was sure he thought was sexy. He began sucking at her neck as she sat there, her hate boner for Brooke rekindled now that he had brought the subject back up.

“She’s just so fucking infuriating, you don’t even know. Whenever it’s just the two of us, the bitch lets me have it, but then we get on set and she’s a fucking angel because she knows that I can’t just switch it on as quick as her and I’m left looking like a hateful bitch.”

“I’m sorry, V,” Matt responded with genuine concern, before ruining it by latching onto her neck again. Vanessa rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her.

“I’m at breaking point here, Matt!” Vanessa snapped. “Could you stop coverin’ me in drool for one goddamn second and listen to me?”

Matt looked hurt, and Vanessa instantly felt guilty. She hadn’t meant to take her frustrations about Brooke out on him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I — it’s just been a long day.”

“It’s chill. I get it,” Matt sighed. Vanessa’s heart ached as she realised just how much she didn’t deserve him.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Vanessa decided, squeezing Matt’s hand briefly.

“Night. Love you, V.”

“You too,” Vanessa called back automatically. It wasn’t all that late, but she needed the sleep; hating Brooke was becoming a full time, all-consuming job, and she was tired.

—

Brooke and Vanessa carried on at each other’s throats for over a week — fights in their trailers, digs at table reads, and even a collision between the two women at the canteen which almost resulted in a vicious food fight. Brooke tried not to let their feud ooze into their time on set, opting instead to keep a polite, professional demeanour around her co-star that sometimes strayed towards subtle taunts at how worked up Vanessa would get over her.

It was almost as if Brooke was in her own angry bubble with Vanessa, and she was pretty sure she hated her almost as much as she loved fighting with her.

It was naive of her, really, to think that the animosity between the two of them would go unnoticed by the hundreds of people she was with each day as much as she was with Vanessa. The fact that it came as a complete shock to them made the eventual intervention that was staged all the more humiliating.

Brooke and Vanessa were seated at opposite ends of the couch, while Michelle and Asia stood before them, both of them attempting to look strict with only Michelle managing it with any level of success. In a slightly out of place scene, Katya simply sat on another couch curled up to a blonde girl Brooke didn’t recognise. Plastique and Scarlet, two other actresses on the movie who were apparently also being affected by Brooke and Vanessa’s rivalry, were also present, along with Yvie, Shuga, Kameron and Aquaria, each of them looking various degrees of disinterested. A few minutes in, even Nina joined them, and a woman named Ra’jah, who introduced herself to Brooke as Vanessa’s manager.

“So, I’m sure by now we all know why Brooke and Vanessa are here with us today,” Michelle began curtly.

“Would somebody care to explain it to us?” Brooke asked feebly, wondering whether there was any hope of getting out of this with her dignity intact.

“Don’t play dumb, bitch,” Vanessa retorted. If she wanted to do this in front of everybody then so be it, Brooke thought.

“This is exactly why,” Michelle said with a sigh, stepping in before Brooke could clap back.

“Now, you two don’t have to be girlfriends in real life,” she continued, and out of the corner of her eye Brooke noticed Vanessa’s little hands balling up into fists at the patronising speech they were being given.

“You don’t even have to be friends. But this war that you guys have going on is disrupting the atmosphere on set and off. I don’t know whether you had noticed, but you’re not the only ones working here and this negative energy is putting your cast and crew in a bad mood and making everyone’s jobs and lives a lot harder.”

Brooke swallowed, staring into her lap, the shame beginning to settle in.

“Vanessa? I’m Nina, Brooke’s manager and friend,” Brooke heard, looking up to see Nina pulling a chair up so that she was sat in the gap between Vanessa and herself like a goddamn mediator. Asia quickly followed in her footsteps and Brooke couldn’t believe it had actually come to this.

“I really think it’d be in both of your best interests to put this… tension between you in the past,” Asia started. “And while Michelle here has reassured me that it’s not your acting that she’s concerned about, imagine how much more you could be capable of with a little less hostility inhibiting your performances?”

Vanessa snorted and scowled at that as if she was deliberately trying to remind Brooke why she had disliked Vanessa to begin with. At least Brooke was taking this seriously.

“Moreover, it’s not a cute look for the movie’s leads to be enemies, especially since this could be groundbreaking as far as gay representation in mainstream Hollywood goes, and you two are our romantic leads. Sure, we could use it to generate a few headlines, but that’s not the narrative we’re trying to create here. This thing is Katya’s baby and she’s hoping it will be a source of light in a lot of people’s life. Don’t let it be clouded in darkness, because you know that nothing stays a secret in showbiz,” Asia finished.

“And let’s not forget about the press tour. And the premiere… y’all will get coupled up for interviews the whole time. If nothing else gives your drama away, those will,” Ra’jah chipped in. Brooke could feel herself relenting, the reasons on top of reasons starting to prove that the pros of ending this pointless feud outweighed the cons.

“Brooke,” Nina appealed to her directly, “I know you feel how important this story is and I know you don’t want its legacy to be tainted. You’ve always been outspoken about the media and how they pit women against each other and if you keep this up, you’ll be making their job a lot easier, far easier than it deserves to be.”

Vanessa’s eyes finally met hers for the first time in what felt like forever, and until then Brooke hadn’t realised how badly she hated it when Vanessa behaved like she wasn’t there.

“I… shit, I agree with Nina,” Vanessa confessed, much to Brooke’s surprise.

“You do?” Brooke asked quietly, needing the confirmation.

“Don’t get excited, girl, I don’t like you all of a sudden,” she snipped. “But… I guess I can stop acting like I want to kill you so much.”

Brooke wanted to laugh at that. She had to give it to Vanessa — she may have only been five foot three, but Brooke didn’t think she’d ever met anybody so fierce.

“I suppose I could try that to,” Brooke replied. She gave her a nod in affirmation, thinking that a smile might be going a little far.

“Well, now that that’s been dealt with, you’re all free to go,” Michelle announced and most of the room got up to leave  — Brooke was pretty certain that at least half of them had tuned out for the majority of the intervention anyway. Nina gave her a wink, signalling that she would meet her outside.

“Just one more thing, ladies,” Michelle added, gesturing for Brooke and Vanessa to stay behind. “Now that you’ve cleared the air, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear that you’ll be shooting your first on-screen kiss later this week. I’ll see you then.”

Brooke froze, damning Michelle and her poor timing. Just as she and Vanessa were starting to patch things up, she had to go and make the air thick with friction again. Brooke was expecting an insult, a barb, but instead —

“I can’t wait to find out if you’re as good at kissing as you are at picking fights,” Vanessa deadpanned, her voice even lower and more raspy than usual, before strutting off without waiting for a response.

Which was a good thing, because at that moment, Brooke didn’t think she could find the words if she tried.

[itslocsdiggs]

midnight melodies

A/N: For the lovely @parksxo who requested a college age Rafa, so imagine with a shaved head and hella talent. (It’s here, it’s here!) I have been crafting the perfect fic for you. Reminiscing the days when his hair was short because now we have it long, and we love it! Enjoy the throwback to young Rafa

T/W: college, oral, dirty talk, some drug use

Word Count: 1.3k

It was the beginning of the semester and all you trulyand read the important chapter from history 101, but really loud music had been pounding into your eardrums from across the hall. It was catchy, sure but it would be great to get some homework done. Throwing the book across your bed, you stood up. The party wouldn’t quit so you decided to see about it. Putting on your earrings and fixing your lipstick you marched down the hall. It was hard not to put a little bounce into your step, the music was good. Masking an annoyed face due to a loss of productivity, you rapped quickly on the door. After not hearing anyone for a few minutes, you slammed your palm on the wood door. The door was already being opened and you nearly slapped a tall green eyed babe in the face. A wave of embarrassment hit you hard. Now that your original plan had backfired, you stared, momentarily lost in his eyes. They really were something…

The green eyed babe frowned, “did you want to come in”?

“No, I want you to turn down the music so I can finish reading for Monday’s lecture.”

“Are you kidding, it’s Friday night! Professor Marron won’t mind if you read it on Saturday I promise.”

“Wait, how do you know which class I’m in?”

“Wait you’ve never noticed me before?”,  he mocked, “I’m the guy who sits front and center. Rafael Santiago Casal.” He smirked and held out his hand for you to shake.

Wide eyed you gape. He kept smiling and asked, “Are you gonna come in? You look dressed for a party. And the whole floor is here. You don’t want to be alone do you?”

You shrug, “Sure. It can’t hurt. Sick beats, though. Whose songs are these?”

He tilted his head and smirked, “Mine.”

“Oh wow”, you ducked your head, refusing to give him the pleasure of a compliment, “Kinda feel bad for wanting you to turn it off.”

“Do you now? Maybe a dance will shake off my wounded ego?”

You push past him into the room, tugging him back inside. You immediately started to move your hips to the beat. From that night on, at any given campus party, Rafael was your dance partner. You spent most of that first party moving and grinding on each other. He was all you could think about before you fell asleep that night.

Sometimes if the parties were lame, you’d go back to his dorm and hang out under the haze of his blunt and stolen midnight kisses. It became a habit that the two of you would sleep until noon on Saturdays, eat the sort of okay dining hall food and study for history together. He rolled his eyes and called you nerdy for how many facts you knew despite not actually being a history major. He loved it though, you were the reason he paid attention in class rather than using it as his songwriting hour. Just another boring core requirement, but you made it bearable.

One Friday night in particular, he cancelled the kickback so that he could get to know you a little better. He dragged the last of the blunt and snuffed it out. You had taken a hit and decided it wasn’t for you. It was so warm and calm being with him, you didn’t want to talk, relishing in the comfort of his presence. You reached up in his embrace and pressed kisses from his smooth jaw all the way to the cleft in his chin. He looked down at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes stormy gray with arresting flecks of green.

Rafael clears his throat and murmurs, “A dreamer at lust for dawn.”

“Huh?”, you pull away staring at him

”I want to read you something I have been working on. Just a few lines, it’s a little something I put together”, he cleared his throat and continued softly, “You, my dear, are the only one who has met the boy in me I die writing to save. I only want my best shadow to live through the night”

“Oh, Rafa”, you smile, “that sounds really good”

Overcome with emotion, you begin to kiss him again, running your hands over his chest. He leans into it humming and taking the chance to run his tongue over your bottom lip. It had never occurred to you how much you needed him until now as you feel his tongue slip past your lips. After all those nights of polite goodnight kisses and cuddling in his bed, you needed more.

He tugged you into his lap and held you close. Rafael took his time pressing his warm mouth to your neck and chest through your tank top. His touch is feather light on your skin. Shifting on his lap, you feel him grow harder in his sweats. Sliding off of his thighs, you make yourself comfortable on the bed, tugging at his waistband.

“I wanna suck your cock, Rafa,” you say quietly.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, babe—”

“I wanna”

He cuts himself off with a whimper when you press a kiss to the aching pink head. He said, “Okay!”, and raised his hands in surrender before relaxing into your touch, caressing your scalp and making filthy noises. As you started to bob your head he gathered your hair in his fist. He couldn’t help moving his hips. Suddenly, Rafa stopped, his emerald eyes brightened suddenly with an idea.

“You ever try any positions (Y/N)?”, he inquired softly.

Pulling off, you blush and bite your lip, “No, never really fooled around with anyone but you.”

“Too busy studying, right?”, he teased, caressing your cheek.

“Yeah,” you answer drily, sitting up and stroking him slowly.

He chuckled, and whispered what he wanted in your ear. You took off the rest of your clothes and Rafa took off his shirt. He pushed you down to the bed and towered over you, kissing you quickly before turning his body and laying down sideways. You followed suit curling into him and taking his cock back into your mouth. Rafael greedily pulled your hips towards him and tasted you. He groaned and pushed his face between your thighs, moaning and sucking hungrily. With anybody else the noises would have been too much, but you did everything you could to make him louder. You spent the next few moments teasing and tasting each other until your thighs shook and tightened around his head. He held you in place, loving the way you were so eager for him. He could get used to this.

You whimpered and kissed at his cock trying to catch your breath as you came.

He whispered against your pussy, “That’s a good girl, (Y/N)”.

He rested his head on your thigh and kept kissing your lips as he thrust his hips against your face. His hips stuttered before he let out a long moan and shot warm cum down your throat. Rafa continued to slowly fuck your mouth as you swallowed his cum.

Rafa lay there kissing the salty skin on your thighs as he continued to shake.

“Easy baby girl,” he rasped.

With the last remaining strength you turned your body to his so you could taste each other’s mouths until you fell asleep beside him.

In the early hours of the morning, you woke up to Rafa running his finger through your hair, mumbling softly about his growing affection for you.

“You could always just ask me yourself”, you say quietly.

“Please be my girlfriend?”

Silence fell, and in your drowsy state, you nodded and pressed your head into his chest. He could rest now, knowing you felt the same.

Knocking on Rafa’s door was the best decision you made this semester.