#what if i threw up because our lovesickness is reciprocated

[hops-hunny]

Oops

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Pronouns: He/Him

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon w/ “HI FIRST OF ALL, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 300! YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCH. can I request a ron x male reader for your celebration please? (maybe where the twins play a prank on ron putting verasitasium in his drink and that leads him confessing to the reader? you can totally ignore the idea tho, friends to lovers maybe? With prompt: “Haha, just kidding! Unless?” “maybe add the prompts: “He can bust me open like a can of biscuits.” “You can count on me to get on my knees for you.” ”

Summary: Who knew fizzy drinks could create steamy conversations?

Warnings: fluff, mentions of underage drinking (one line), and 2 sexual jokes.

A/N: I changed up the idea a bit but not too much! Hope you enjoy anon

24."You can count on me to get on my knees for you."

41.“He could bust me open like a can of biscuits.”

44.“Haha, just kidding! Unless?”

Ron wouldn’t admit it, but he was completely in love with his best friend (Y/n). The way the boy would subconsciously fix up Ron’s hair or clothes, the way he’d get whiny when he was tired, hell even his stupid jokes. (Y/n) had Ron ron eating right out of the palm of his hand. And if you knew Ron, this wasn’t something that was hard to tell. Everyone noticed the way the brutish boy would act whenever the boy was around. The way his voice would drop an octave, the way he’d speak a shit ton louder, even down to the way he always made sure he was the loudest one laughing at the (y/h/h) boy’s jokes. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together but for some reason it was for Ron.

Well it wasn’t that it was hard for him to admit it, he knew who he was and what he liked. It was more so hard for him to admit it to (Y/n) himself. Anytime he’d get even close to it, he’d end up changing what he was going to say last minute. It was like a tradition at this point. Even though Ron wouldn’t grow the balls and confess, he was still relatively jealous of the boy and who he hung around. He found himself getting upset or being short with him which didn’t last for long. (Y/n) was just too sweet. Even though the boy didn’t suspect that his friend's behavior was more than platonic, he’d still reassure him the same every time. Just like what was taking place currently.

Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Ginny, and (Y/n) all sat in the common room talking about anything they could wrap their minds around. However, (Y/n) and Ron were having their own conversation. (Y/n) reached a hand forward, tilting Ron’s face towards him. “It’s okay to be upset, Ron. But I just want you to know that I love you and nothing will ever change that.” he said as he gave him a soft smile. Ron choked a bit, clearing his throat as he looked away, face a bright crimson. He knew the boy’s words were strictly platonic but the flutter that took place in his heart didn’t care. “How bout we spend more time together? I know we’ve both been busy but I’ll never be too busy for you. You’re my best friend, my little ickle Ronniekins.” he teased, laughing as he picked at Ron’s cheek a bit. Ron rolled his eyes swatting his hand off his face, giving him the same dopey smile he always did. (Y/n) looked down at the watch on his wrist before he gasped. “Oh dear! I’m late for my study group. Me, you, common room this friday!” He said as he began to run off. “Don’t be late either! You usually are!”

Fred had a mischievous look on his face as he watched his lovesick brother make those same eyes he always did when the boy would take off. “You’re in deep aren’t you? When’s the last time you had a thought that wasn’t about (Y/n)?” he teased, poking his brother’s flaming cheek. Ron glared up at him angrily as he let out a scoff.

“Oh bugger off, will you? I’m not ‘in deep’. I just think he’s cute.” he pouted, crossing his arms defensively as he looked away from the group.

“Right, cause nothing screams ‘just find him cute’ like carrying his things to class, getting jealous when other people ask him out, and dropping any preexisting plans to hang out with him for even just 5 minutes. Do you realize how stupid you sound?” Ginny said, snickering some as she rolled her eyes at her thick headed brother.

“She’s got a point. Why don’t you just tell him? It’s very clear he feels the same way about you.” Harry said with a shrug.

“They’re right you know. I don’t know anyone else who would put up with your little fits of anger. If you got pissy with me like you did him I definitely would have punched you in the face by now.” George said, standing to sit on the other side of Ron. “Or maybe...you need some help from your big brothers?”

Ron felt his eyes widen in horror. Help from Fred and George never just meant help. Their version of help somehow always managed to be the exact opposite. If their ‘help’ and the actual meaning of the word help were countries, they’d be on different sides of the world. “No, absolutely not. Don’t say anything to him or I’ll tell mum.” Ron began to gather his things, heading off in the direction of his own dorm. As he got further away Fred and George gave each other a knowing smile.

“G-guys whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably not a good idea. I’m sure Ron will come around on his own time. Sure it may take him ages but just think of how proud of himself he’ll be when the time comes.” he spoke, trying to reason with the two. Fred stood up ruffling the mop of brown on top of Harry’s head.

“Oh don’t worry, golden boy. Ron told us not to say anything and we won’t.” he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“However just because we can’t say anything doesn’t mean he can’t either.” George stood up walking in the direction of Snape’s room. “Come on Freddie! We’ve gotta get a move on if we want everything to go to plan!”

As the two walked off, Ginny and Harry shared a look of confusion. Never in all the time they knew the two were they quick to give up just because someone asked them to. Harry’s eyes widened at the conversation that had just played out. What did they mean by ‘just because we can’t doesn’t mean he can’t either.’? ‘No it couldn’t be. That would be ridiculous!’ He had formed his own suspicions on what they had meant but only time could tell if he was correct.

-----------------------------------------------

As Friday came around, Ron found himself relieved that his brother’s had stuck to their word. All week he spent being on edge, skitting frantically around his identical buffoons. However, he was still nervous. On top of them not doing anything to jeopardize his friendship with the (h/c) haired boy, he hadn’t seen much of them at all. Wait, when was the last time he had seen them? He felt his heart racing at the revelation. He hadn’t seen them since Sunday of last week when they had the conversation that had been on his mind all week. He liked (Y/n), he liked him a lot. Was it such a ridiculous idea to believe that the (y/h/h) boy harbored feelings for him to?

He sighed, sitting down on the common room couch. He had arrived early- 45 minutes to be precise giving him a lot of time to think things through. It wasn’t  that Ron thought of himself as an awful person, it’s just that he saw (Y/n) as perfect. There wasn’t a single person in the castle that didn’t like him. He often gave up his free time to help the students in lower years with their work, cleaned up all 4 of the common rooms, and even offered professor Snape his time to help him clean out the cauldrons at the end of the day. He had a heart of gold paired with a face of diamond. How was he supposed to keep up with that?

“Hey there dear brother of ours!” George called out as the approached their younger brother. Ron rolled his eyes as he threw his head back in exasperation. “Listen, we wanted to help you out.” he started, looking over at Fred.

“Yeah we feel bad about the other day so we bought you these.” he said, tossing him two bottles of soda. He eyed it suspiciously looking at the label of the strawberry cream soda. (Y/n)’s favorite. “We thought you could use some drinks!”

“What’s the catch?” he questioned, setting them down on the table.

“The catch is there isn’t one! Maybe if you give it to (Y/n), it’ll show that those big ears of yours actually do listen.” George teased. Ron brought a hand to his ear, glaring at his brother. His ears weren’t big. “Well, it looks like he’s coming so we better run!” 

Ron looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, watching as the boy ran towards him with a large smile. He couldn’t help but smile back grunting when the boy threw himself in his arms. Ron blushed brightly, wrapping his arms around him to reciprocate the hug. “I missed you.” he mumbled into the taller boy’s chest. Ron cleared his throat, petting the top of the boys head.

“Missed you too, love. So, uh,” he pulled himself back from the boy’s embrace scooting away some. He didn’t seem to notice him deflate as he continued on, “What did you have planned?” he asked him. (Y/n) pondered it for a bit, humming as he bit his lip to think. The ginger boy couldn’t help to admire how cute he was, face upturned in concentration.

“I was thinking we could play the questions game! Whoever has the most fingers down by the end is the loser and has to do whatever the winner says!” He grinned before turning his attention to the objects on the table. His eyes lit up brightly at the sight of his favorite drink. “You remembered?” he said breathlessly, looking at his Gryffindor counterpart.

“Of course, how could I forget? It’s practically all you’ve drank since second year.” he chuckled some, as they opened their bottles in sync. They clinked their drinks together, linking pinkies. It was a tradition they had started, their own little version of a cheer. Ron grimaced some as he took a sip of the liquid, finding it was far sweeter than he remembered. ‘Strange. I just had some last week.’ he thought to himself before shrugging. It was probably just his imagination. 

“Okay, okay I’ll go first.” (Y/n) started. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” he asked. Ron most definitely didn’t wanna answer that. He went to put his finger down but realized his mouth was already moving.

“Last week when I was drunk I pissed my pants. When I tried to get out of them I ended up slipping in my own piss and instead of getting up I just laid there crying until Harry came to help me.” he said briskly. (Y/n) began to laugh. Ron covered his mouth. What was going on? He didn’t wanna say that to anyone let alone the guy he had feelings for! He’d get him back. “What’s on your mind right now?”

“You. I’d let you bust me open like a can of biscuits.” (Y/n) gasped when he was finished, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth. Ron stared back at him, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard! But before he could dwell on it any longer, the same feeling as before came back.

“You can count on me to get on my knees for you.” he squeaked, jumping back from the boy. What was he doing?! He had to think quickly. “Haha! Just kidding.” he tried to play it off before he opened his gab again. “Unless?” well there was no saving it now. Both of them had completely revealed themselves to each other.

“Did we just-”

“I think we did.” they both sat in silence, replaying the conversation over and over in their  heads. They both jumped as they heard a pair of hands clapping combined with two sets of laughter. Ron whipped his head the other direction, spotting the two culprits.

“That was quite the show! I was expecting just a bit of an awkward confession from Ronniekins here but it seems like (Y/n) had a secret of his own!” Fred wheezed, standing in front of the pair.

“H-how? What was that? Tell me now!” Ron growled angrily, staring at the twins. Fred picked up a bottle of the soda swirling it around in his hand.

“I thought your soda would taste better with a little bit of veritasium in it. Totally slipped my mind what kind of effect it had on people. My fault dear brother of mine!” Fred cooed sarcastically, laughing as he sat the bottle back on the table. “Well, we’ll leave you two to it. For real this time.” the twins began to make their departure down the hall, fist bumping at their accomplishment. Ron stood up, checking the room to make sure they were actually gone this time before turning to (Y/n).

“Well, uh, since that just happened,” he looked away from the boy as another wave of heat made its way onto his cheeks, “Do you wanna go out with me maybe? I-I understand if-” he was cut short as his friend stood on the tip of his feet, placing a soft kiss on his own freckled cheek. (Y/n) wrapped his arms around the boy before looking up at him.

“I’d love to.”

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 14

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, a scene of violence, bloodshed

“Jimin, please,” you begged, not knowing exactly what you were asking for as you moved on top of him. 

“Mm, what do you want baby bird?” Jimin smirked as he looked up at you, your breasts gently moving upwards every time you rocked your hips. “All you have to do is tell me what you want, and you know I’ll give it to you.”

“God, fuck me,” you both requested and moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure. It was now late morning on the day of the benefit, the day after you and Jimin had confessed your love to each other. The two of you had spent the last 15 hours having sex, and eating, talking and sleeping in between. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had felt this passionate about a person, and you were absolutely living for it. 

“Want me to take control?” He wondered and you nodded your head, leaning down and pressing your chest to his. Jimin adjusted himself so that his feet were flat against the bed, and he began to fuck up into you. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasped, gripping tightly onto Jimin’s forearms as he palmed your ass and fucked you harder.

“I can feel you gripping my cock baby,” he mumbled and you turned your head so that you could look at him. “You gonna come?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nodded before surging forward, connecting your lips to his in a sloppy kiss. You felt one of his hands leave your skin and you didn’t think anything of it, until he slammed it back down on your ass. You moaned against his lips, wiggling your ass back against his hands for more.

“You’re fucking shameless, you know that?” Jimin chuckled, lifting his hand and spanking you again. 

“F-fuck, I-I’m coming,” you stuttered, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head as your orgasm hit you hard. Jimin wasn’t far behind, his cum flooding into you. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, Jimin’s cock still lodged inside of you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“Hey, you still with me?” Jimin chuckled and you nodded slowly as you lifted your head.

“Love you,” you whispered, making Jimin grin widely. 

“Love you too baby bird,” Jimin replied, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You sat up and lifted your hips, letting Jimin’s cock slip out of you and you grimaced at the feeling of his cum following behind it. You moved over to lay down on the bed while Jimin sat up and got off of the bed, walking into his en suite. You waited patiently until he came back with two towels in his hand, one wet and one dry. He motioned for you to spread your legs and you did so, and he used the wet towel to clean up all of his cum from your inner thighs.

“Not gonna lie,” he spoke up while he did so. “Seeing my cum on you is kinda turning me on.”

“Don’t be a perv,” you giggled, humming in content afterwards when he used the dry towel to get the wetness from the wet towel off of you. He then threw both towels into his nearby laundry basket before crawling back into bed with you.

“Good morning,” you whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, and he hummed as you snuggled into him. 

“Waking up to find you on top of me riding my dick definitely makes for a good morning,” he laughed, leaning forward and kissing you gently. 

“But now I’m tired again,” you said.

“Well, you can go back to sleep for a few hours,” Jimin told you. “What time do you have to get back to start getting ready for the benefit?”

“Like at 5, since the benefit starts at 8 and we’ll have to mingle a little bit beforehand,” you replied.

“I’ll make sure to drop you off by then, ok?” He said and you nodded, a soft smile coming onto your face when he kissed you again. “Sleep baby bird.”

.........................................................

Even though the two of you only meant to go back to sleep for a few hours, neither of you ended up waking up until 4:45, meaning that you both had to rush through showers and getting dressed before heading back to the Blue House. 

Once Jimin pulled his car into the parking lot where the security guards parked their cars, he turned off the ignition before turning to face you. 

“How are you gonna tell Namjoon?” He questioned and you sighed as you shrugged your shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “I kind of want to hold off from telling him tonight, since we have the benefit and still need to put on a good face for now.”

“That’s understandable,” Jimin nodded, reaching over and grabbing one of your hands in his. “I just want you to be sure that this is what you want to do.”

“Hey, I meant what I said,” you stated firmly, reaching over with your free hand and gripping his chin. “I love you and wanna be with you, and nothing is gonna change my mind.”

“I love you too Y/N-ah,” he smiled, leaning forward and kissing you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go in.” The both of you got out of his car, Jimin carrying your overnight bag for you as the two of you walked into the Blue House. You were immediately greeted by Momo, who looked like she was ready to murder you.

“Where the hell have you been?” She demanded to know as she walked over to you and Jimin. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Hi to you too, Mo,” you laughed.

“It’s almost 5:30,” she continued on as if she hadn’t heard you. “You still have to get into hair and makeup, and you looked fucked out.”

“Mo!” You exclaimed, looking around to make sure that no one heard her while Jimin choked/coughed loudly. 

“You,” Momo said, turning to Jimin. “I’m glad that you’re making my best friend happy, but she has responsibilities and so do you. Now, I’d suggest you go change into your suit, Mr. Head of Security.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jimin smiled. He then turned to you and handed you your overnight bag, taking a quick look around before kissing you quickly and then walking away. You watched him fondly until he rounded a corner and you looked back at Momo, who was just smiling at you.

“What?” You wondered.

“You’re so lovesick and it’s disgusting,” she laughed. “What exactly did the two of you get up to last night, huh?”

“A lot,” you admitted with a huff. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“Good, because we have to get your butt ready,” she said, grabbing your hand and leading you off towards your and Namjoon’s bedroom.

.........................................................

Over the next hour and a half, you managed to get your hair and makeup done in record time. Just as your hairstylist was putting the finishing touches on your hair, Namjoon strolled into your bedroom.

“You and I need to talk,” Namjoon announced and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Can it wait?” You asked. “I still have to get dressed.”

“No, it needs to happen now,” he insisted. Knowing that he wasn’t gonna let it go, you looked over your shoulder at your stylist Joohyun, giving her an apologetic smile.

“We all done?” You wondered and she nodded.

“Yep, just be careful so that you don’t mess it up,” she instructed you and you nodded. After she unplugged her tools, she quickly bowed before excusing herself and walking out of your bedroom. You then got up out of the chair that you were sitting in, walking past Namjoon and stepping into the walk-in closet that was connected to the bedroom.

“Did you not hear me Y/N-ah?” Namjoon questioned as he followed behind you, leaning against the door frame. “We need to talk.”

“I heard you but I’m a little confused on what the hell we need to talk about,” you shrugged, taking off the robe that you had on and throwing it to the side. You then grabbed your dress off of the hanger, which was a beautiful pure white color, strapless, and it had pearl detailing on the edges.

“We need to talk about where you were last night,” he said.

“I’m not talking about that,” you replied. 

“Because you were with Jimin, right?” He accused and you just ignored him, focusing on pulling up the zipper that was on the left side of your body. “God Y/N, you can’t be this stupid.”

“Stupid?” You scoffed as you whipped your head to look at him.

“Yes, stupid,” he nodded. “Jimin is literally the head of our fucking security and now, because of you, his job is compromised because he’s attached to you. Usually, I know you’d keep things like that in mind but for you to blatantly disregard it, I wanna know what the hell you were thinking.”

“I was thinking that i finally met a man who made me feel good, and not just sexually!” You screamed. “Someone who gets happy when they see me happy, someone who worries about my feelings, someone who has the fucking decency to ask me how my day was! I’m sick of not getting my effort reciprocated and being in a loveless marriage!”

“You wanna talk about your effort not being reciprocated?” Namjoon wondered. “I literally groveled and begged you to forgive me for cheating that first time with Hyejin and you’ve done nothing but hold it over my head for the past eight months! It was a fucking mistake!”

“A mistake that you repeated just a few weeks ago!” You shot back. 

“You ever wonder why I cheated with Hyejin in the first place? Or why I went back to her?” He questioned, ignoring what you had said. “It’s because after you miscarried our son, it’s like I either didn’t exist to you anymore or I was the worse person in the world.”

“Do not,” you spit harshly, glaring at him. “Bring the baby into this.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He chuckled darkly. “That’s where everything went wrong, isn’t it? After we lost him, that’s when you weren’t able to look me in the eyes for six months afterwards. That’s when you screamed at me multiple times about how you miscarrying was my fault because I had just announced my run for President and I was never home and you had to attend all those fucking events and make nice and smile on my behalf.” 

You were stunned into silence, because you truly didn’t think that that was the cause of all of this. Admittedly though, the time in your life when you lost your son was a tough one, to say the least, and it wasn’t one that you really remembered much of due to all of the pain that came along with it. 

“I shouldn’t have cheated on you to deal with that pain, and I realize that,” Namjoon spoke up after a couple of seconds of tense silence. “I hate myself for hurting you and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But baby, this marriage has lacked love and reciprocation for much longer than you realize.”

“President Kim?” A knock sounded on the bedroom door and you recognized it as Jimin’s voice. “We should start moving now if we want to be on time.”

“We’re coming!” Namjoon shouted back gruffly over his shoulder, before turning his head to look back at you. Hearing Jimin’s voice spurred you into action, and you reached down to grab your high heels before slipping them on. 

“You don’t have anything to say?” Namjoon demanded and once you finished strapping your heel, you stood up straight and looked at him.

“Later,” was all you responded with, grabbing your white clutch purse and moving towards the door.

“Y/N-ah,” Namjoon called, reaching out and grabbing your elbow as you walked past him.

“Let me go,” you fumed quietly and Namjoon thought that you were going to pull away from him but when you looked up at him and your eyes were brimming with tears, his heart ached. He immediately released you and you continued to walk past him, not sparing him another glance behind you as you yanked open your bedroom door and stormed out into the hallway, ignoring the stares of Jimin, Momo, and the rest of your security detail. 

.........................................................

The entire ride to COEX Convention Center, where the Children’s Benefit was being held, was awkward and that was putting it lightly. You couldn’t allow yourself to dwell too much on the argument that you and Namjoon had just had because you knew that if you did, you weren’t going to be able to walk into the benefit and fake being happily married to him. Even a great actress like yourself had your limits.

As the limousine pulled onto the street that the convention center was on, there were massive crowds of people on both sides of the street and a huge line of other limousines that carried politicians, idols, actors and actresses, and other notable figures. You noticed Jimin walk past the limo that you and Namjoon were in in order to get to the steps where you and Namjoon would be dropped off, and you knew that he was doing it in order to be able to control the traffic and amount of people that would surround you and Namjoon. 

After about a 5 minute wait, your limo had finally moved up in the line and you and Namjoon were going to be the last people to enter the venue before the start of the Benefit.

“I wish you’d say something,” Namjoon mumbled as he looked over at you, and you tore your gaze away from the window in order to glance at him. 

“You want me to say something?” You repeated and Namjoon nodded. “Fine. I want a divorce.”

“....What about the arrangement?” 

“Fuck the arrangement,” you cursed. “I don’t care about the potential consequences, I don’t care about what people may think of you or me, I don’t care about any of it anymore. I’m tired and I’m done.”

“Alright,” he relented and you felt the limo drive forward a little bit. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” you nodded. 

“Fine, I’ll have our attorneys draft the papers,” he told you, turning towards the door and waiting until one of your security opened it for him to step out. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening at the sight of the President and you slid over to the door, grabbing onto Namjoon’s outstretched hand and stepping out as well. The cheers renewed once you appeared and you raised your hand, making sure to wave in every direction. You saw that Jimin was standing on the steps, speaking into his earpiece, while Taehyung, Jungkook and Momo were near the top of the stairs waiting for you and Namjoon.

You placed your hand in the crook of Namjoon’s inner arm, allowing him to lead you up the steps slowly, since you were being careful of the small train that was at the bottom of your dress. You were at the midway point of the steps, when you heard the first shots ring out. 

BANG! BANG!

To you, it sounded almost as if firecrackers were going off. The shrill sounds of screaming filled your ears swiftly after, along with five more shots. You looked over at Namjoon and your eyes widened when you saw a quickly spreading red patch soak through his suit jacket. It didn’t take long for Namjoon to lose his footing from the impact, your hand promptly slipping from his arm as he fell backwards down the steps.

“Joon!” You screamed, dropping your clutch and gathering the bottom of your dress as you began to rush down the stairs to him. Just before you could make it, you felt someone grab you and cover you as they pushed you to the ground.

“Get off of me!” You shouted, fighting against them.

“Baby, it’s me!” Jimin grunted and you opened your eyes and looked at him, hearing the faint sound of more shots going off. “Stay down!” You moved your head and looked over to where you had last seen Namjoon, now seeing that your other security guards were shielding his body as they moved him back to your limo that was still parked at the curb.

“I need to go!” You shrieked, moving underneath Jimin’s body. “I need to get to Joon!” 

“Ok, just wait a second!” Jimin yelled, shouting a few words into his earpiece and suddenly, another security guard was rushing towards you. He and Jimin both helped you up and covered you as they rushed you to the limo as well. You hurriedly climbed inside and the limo immediately pulled away from the curb and rushed out into the street, headed for the nearest hospital. Your jaw dropped at the sight of Namjoon’s body stretched out on one side and you quickly moved over to him, cradling his face in your hands.

“Hey, can you hear me baby?” You croaked, your eyes welling up with thick tears that blurred your vision. Namjoon blinked slowly and you could tell that he wanted to say something to you but you shook your head.

“Don’t strain yourself,” you insisted and your heart broke when you heard how labored his breathing was, so you turned to look at Jimin. “How far are we?”

“Only about two minutes out,” he told you, pressing his earpiece into his ear. “We’ll be there in less though.”

“You hear that?” You said as you turned back to look at Namjoon. “We’re almost to the hospital and we’re gonna get you help and you’re gonna be fine, alright?” You heard a puff of air leave Namjoon as a response, and you could only hope that you’d make it to the hospital in time. 

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[irrelevantwriter]

Angel’s Goodbye

Pairing: (Mayans MC) Angel Reyes x Latina!OFC

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluid, Angel being hot as fuck, Angel’s ringed fingers (bc that shit fucks me up hardcore)

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: A booty call. Porn without much plot.

A/N: Okay, so this is all Ashley’s @negansdirtygirl22​ fault! I had this fic more than halfway done and now that Ashley is thirsting over Angel’s fine ass like I am, I decided to finish and publish it. This is purely self-serving and I’m okay with that. Please read, enjoy, and share with your friends!

*Masterlist in bio.

*******************

Isabelle hummed softly to herself as she finished putting away laundry that had been sitting in a basket for nearly a week. The television was on in the background, but she wasn’t paying it any attention. The bedroom was awash in a soft light, the darkness of the late hour not lost on her. A small shiver ran up her spine as she walked on bare feet across the hardwood floors to put her clothes away. There was a slight chill in the air and she made a mental note to turn the heat up before she went to bed.

A door opening and closing within the house made her stop abruptly, the scrap of lace she’d been putting away clenched in her hand. The noise had startled her and she listened for just a beat before the sound of familiar voices eased her nerves somewhat.

“Angel?” She called out, stepping closer into the darkened hallway. Two figures stepped forward and Isabelle clutched her chest at the scare. The two men smiled down at her, one looking like a lovesick puppy and the other looking away out of respect for her state of undress.

“Hey, baby…” Angel rasped, his hands immediately coming forward to rest on her rounded hips. He leaned down to place a chaste kiss to her lips and her body responded automatically, reciprocating the action.

Isabelle looked behind him at the other man and smiled sheepishly, trying to use Angel’s body as somewhat of a shield to her scantily clad form. She was wearing shorts that were probably categorized more as underwear and a thin shirt that dipped low off one shoulder…not a bra strap in sight. It was her sleep attire and while not suitable for company, it was perfectly comfortable for bed.

“Hey, Ezekiel…” Isabelle gave a small wave and the younger Reyes returned it with a smile, trying to avoid looking at her naked legs. She belatedly realized she’d waved with the hand that still clutched a wad of black lace and hastily threw it onto the bed and out of sight. Both men smirked in amusement at the gesture.

“Hi, Isa…sorry to show up so late.” EZ apologized, knowing his older brother had not given Isabelle notice of their arrival, judging by her surprised reaction.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure my darling, thoughtful boyfriend meant to text me.” She said with a pointed stare and arched brow directed towards the man who still held her against him. His hands roamed towards her backside, a smirk planted firmly on his face as he stared down at her.

“I thought it. Did I do it? No.” He said with a smile. “You know me better than that, mi amor.”

Isabelle smiled up at him, unable to be mad at the love of her life for too long. And he was right, she did know him better than that…better than most.

“What’re you guys doing here anyway?” She asked, directing the question to EZ because Angel was too preoccupied with his hands on her ass to provide a real answer. Isabelle was just thankful EZ couldn’t see that his older brother was trying to grope her in front of him. Though he probably had an idea. And Angel had tried to do worst in front of his brother. He got some kind of thrill out of making EZ turn red, whether from anger or embarrassment.

“Pit stop, baby…on our way back to the clubhouse to handle some shit.”

Angel surprised her by answering, but she nodded in acceptance. It was nearing ten o’clock, but the MC forced the guys to keep strange hours. It wasn’t unusual for Angel to be in and out throughout the day and night. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d learned to deal with it.

“And your bikes? Didn’t hear them when you pulled up.” She inquired, squirming against Angel as he rubbed his facial hair against her neck. He knew what that sensation did to her and she pushed back against his chest to keep from moaning in front of EZ.

“Came in the van.” Angel mumbled, finally untangling himself from her. He moved so that EZ could see her full on and she struggled not to grab the throw blanket she kept at the end of their bed. EZ shook his head and laughed at his brother’s antics, all while still diverting his eyes away from her.

“I’m gonna go to the kitchen.” EZ called out, already turning away from them. The awkwardness of the situation was becoming far too apparent.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, EZ. And beer. Help yourself.” Isabelle called as he started to move further down the hall. He turned to nod his head in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Isa.” He said, a genuine smile on his face. It warmed her heart. The younger Reyes seemed to be having a tough go of it as of late so anything Isabelle could offer to the man, who she also thought of as a brother, she would.

“Bout time…” Angel growled once EZ had disappeared into the kitchen. He attached himself back to her, his hands now firmly griping her ass and his lips connecting with the flesh of her neck. She was caught off guard as she gripped Angel’s shirt in her hands and struggled to get her bearings.

“Lil brother doesn’t know how to take a fucking hint.” He murmured against her neck. She laughed, but angled her face so that he was forced to look down at her.

“He does. He just does it to fuck with you…you both do.”

“Yeah well, I miss my girl.”

Angel’s voice was soft and low as he changed the tone of the room from playful to intense in seconds. She loved that about him. He would pick the most unpredictable times to be vulnerable with her. He trusted her enough to do that. It made her heart beat faster and her thighs clench in want. She’d missed him too.

“Did you bring your brother to a booty call?”

Her words made a real laugh break from his lips and she felt warm inside when the sound filled her ears. His face went back into her neck, his mouth not just ghosting across her skin anymore but now marking her. It was a clear display of ownership. Angel loved to flaunt her, case in point, the little display he’d put on in front of his brother, but he also liked to make it known that she was not on the market. The whole idea was incredibly sexist and barbaric, but she couldn’t help the rush of arousal that swept through her every time he marked his territory.

“Your brother is in the kitchen, Angel.”

The words were meant to be a stern warning, but they came out breathy and more like a moan. His tongue was lapping at her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His calloused hands ran up and down her back, his rings making her shiver as they ran across her now heated flesh.

“So, we gotta be quiet then.” He challenged, his hands already moving to the waistband of her black shorts. He was edging them closer to the bed while a foot kicked out and caused the bedroom door to slam shut. That had to be obvious to the man in the next room.

“Ezekiel’s gonna know what we’re doing.” She tried again, though she doubted she’d get through to him. And with the way he was caressing her, she didn’t think she wanted to.

“He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” Angel whispered as he picked her up, allowing her legs to instantly wrap around his waist. Their lips finally met in the passionate embrace they were so used to and it felt like home. Isabelle got lost in all the sensations. She lost herself against his lips and tongue. She let her hands grip his thick strands of hair as he rubbed himself against her. The denim between them created a friction she wanted more of.

“Bed.” She demanded breathlessly, and he followed without hesitation. The soft mattress met her back as Angel laid her down. Her long, black hair fanned out around her as he hovered above her. His dark eyes watched her intently, his face not giving away anything. But Isabelle knew what he was thinking. She knew what he was feeling. Because she was thinking and feeling the same things.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

His voice was like grit and silk all at the same time. Years of smoking made him sound dangerous, but the emotion behind his words gave him away. Isabelle smiled almost shyly up at him through dark lashes. She could feel her body respond, her brain becoming drunk off pheromones. Lust and love had her spreading her legs, inviting him to the place she needed him most. He accepted the silent request and began to undress before her.

Angel’s eyes seared through her as he threw his leather off and worked the buttons on his flannel shirt. She watched, teeth biting her lower lip in anticipation. Tan skin with splashes of dark ink were revealed to her inch by inch. Her own dark eyes were feasting on the display. Even though she’d seen him naked a thousand times, she felt like every time was the first. It still felt new. He still made her feel the butterflies.

A crooked smiled crossed his lips as he removed his shirt and went to the buckle on his belt. Isabelle moved from her spot, eager to taste him. She moved towards him on her knees, his hands immediately steadying her as they settled around her waist. She only smiled up at him as she laid her lips across his scarred and tatted chest. A heavy hand tangled itself into her hair, rings pulling at the strands. A low groan escaped his lips as she moved over his chest and to the spot just below his ear that made him come alive under her touch. She licked a path from his collarbone to his neck, small hands sliding over the firm muscles of his abdomen. She let a delicate finger trace the trail of dark hair that disappeared under his jeans and his hand immediately tightened in her hair.

“I need you, querida…” A hand stopped her from continuing and she nodded. Foreplay was not a necessity at this point.

Angel gripped the edge of her shirt, dragging it slowly up her body. She could feel her nipples peak once the cool air met her overheated skin. His rough hands palmed each breast once her shirt was out of the way. She pushed herself further into him, urging him to be greedy and take all of her. His mouth descended on hers again as he went back to her shorts, now pushing them down to reveal herself. She maneuvered the shorts off her body, throwing them behind her.

Angel gently pushed her back onto the bed and she obeyed. He went to work on his own pants once again, his gaze never leaving hers. She could hear the thud of his boots as he removed them, his boxers and jeans following. He grasped himself, letting her see the effect she had over him. Isabelle moaned, intoxicated off the sight. She rubbed her thighs together impatiently, blood pumping to her center at an alarming rate.

“Ángel…” She purred softly, knowing the cadence in which she said his name would bring him to her. And it did. He moved over her, caging her in as he attacked her neck and chest. His facial hair scratched at her skin, but the burn only heightened her arousal. His hands moved everywhere and all at once. She returned the sentiments in kind. Her hands ran down his back, her hips arching up into his to persuade him inside. His hard flesh was nestled between her legs, teasing her opening.

“Ready for me, baby?”

His lips were right by her ear, pulling her further under the waves of passion she was riding. She answered him by opening her legs wider, ensuring he slipped into her slightly. It was a teaser. A promise of what was to come.

He groaned above her at the action. He sat up and gripped himself, rubbing along her swollen lips. He was coating himself in her essence, readying them both for the plunge. Slowly, almost painfully, Angel entered her. The feeling was euphoric.

“Fuck, baby…” He cursed lowly against her collarbone, forehead pressed tight to her cheek.

Isabelle moaned, limbs tightening around his body as he began to thrust lazily above her. She dug her nails into is back, aware of how much he was a slave to the sensation. She was awarded with a hiss and a sharp thrust of his hips, her cervix reaping the benefits. She bit hard into her lip as the sound of her slickened walls reverberated in the room, the sound of him entering her obscene.

“Oh, Angel…fuck, right there.” She whimpered, head thrown back so that his mouth could have free reign of her flesh. He was balancing over her, the angle of his thrusts now more pronounced. A heavy hand with thick silver rings came to her throat and rested there. Her pulse jumped at the action, inexplicably turned on by it. He squeezed lightly and a moan shot past her lips in delight.

“You like that?” He growled into her ear, hips punctuating his words.

Isabelle’s body answered for her as her walls clutched him tighter, a slight spasm rolling through her. She used her foot to urge him deeper, urged him to penetrate her soul. She knew it was impossible, but she could never get enough of him. He always left her craving for more, even after they’d both satiated the other. It was an ongoing cycle…one that she didn’t want to end.

The headboard began to thump against the wall with his rapid movements, his end nearing. Angel squeezed her neck again, tighter than the last, while his forehead rested against hers. The moment was highly erotic and it made Isabelle’s spine arch harshly off the bed.

She could see the comprehension in his eyes, recognizing how close she was. She watched as he removed his hand from her and brought it to his mouth, using his tongue to slicken it. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled when she felt his calloused, spit-soaked fingers assault her clit. An unintelligible sound left her throat as she tensed and rolled with the waves of her intense orgasm.

Angel continued to fuck her through it, catching each contraction with his hips. Only towards the end, when her body was tremoring in small bouts, did he hold still. He looked down at her twisted body, a post-coitus glow now coloring her tan skin. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, her walls still fighting to suck him in.

“Damn, you’re still going.” He commented in amazement, eyes glued to where they were both still joined.

Isabelle whined as he began to move again to chase his own bliss. He stayed upright as he moved, captivated by the way she accepted him. She could feel the slickness between her thighs, aiding Angel’s thrusts. His hands held her wide, his tongue peeking from the confines of his bearded lips. A wayward strand of ink-colored hair fell into is eyes. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth as he moved inside of her, the chords in his neck prominent as he neared the finish line.

“Shit, baby…I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he gave two more thrusts and stopped, gripping her fleshy thighs as he released within her walls.

She savored the feeling, watching from beneath hooded eyes as he threw his head back and gave himself over to her completely. It was a hypnotic sight and one she would never tire of.

He eased up his hold on her, red indentions in her skin replacing his fingers. She longed for his marks on her body, the proof that he was there before and would be again. He grimaced as he slowly eased out of her slack body, soaking up the way he spilled from her depths. He took his time. He always did. He had a fascination about teasing her body once he’d made her cum. It was deliciously cruel.  

She let out a wince as he rubbed himself against her, coating them both in stickiness. He bumped her abused clit and she jerked away, overstimulated and exhausted. He snickered at her reaction, pleased to see her so thoroughly fatigued.

“Ángel…you know how sensitive I get.” She gently chastised, unable to close her legs against his ministrations. He stood between them, hands now lovingly caressing her thighs and hips. He got especially tender after sex and liked to be constantly touching her in some form or fashion. It was a side to Angel no one but her got to see. And she was addicted to it.

“God, you look so fucking good like this.” His hands smoothed up her hips from her thighs, and finally to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, teasing her nipples back into hardened peaks.

Isabelle found herself blushing from both his words and his actions. The way he was staring down at her made her feel like she was the only person he saw…the only one he’d ever want to see.

“Lemme take a picture of you, mi amor.” He licked his lips seductively, attempting to persuade her.

Unfortunately, it was working. The man had swagger.

“En serio?” She threw back with a raised eyebrow. She had a smile on her face, finding his boldness amusing.

He continued to caress her body, going from her breasts and back down to her stomach and thighs. His hands were rough from hard labor, but he touched with a softness that made her beg for more. The man was a complete oxymoron. He looked mean. He looked tough. He looked like he’d kick your ass. But underneath he was the true definition of a gentleman. He spoke with wisdom that many overlooked. And he was always the first to show his love. He was hers. In every way possible.

“I can take it on runs with me. Something I can use when you aren’t with me.” He bent down and rubbed his facial hair into her neck, still trying to plead his case for a picture. “No one will see it but me.”

Isabelle found herself ready to say yes before he’d even started begging. The man was a charmer and he knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Hey, Angel! Bishop called. We gotta head out.” EZ’s voice suddenly cut through the mood and the closed bedroom door.

Angel sighed, knowing he’d lost his chance to convince her. She laughed, running her fingers through his hair as he collapsed against her chest.

“I don’t wanna go.” He pouted with a sigh, lips grazing the side of her breast. She smiled warmly at his reluctance to leave her, mirroring his feeling.

“Will you be home later?”

“Yeah, should be. If it changes I’ll let you know.” He replied sleepily, her motions in his hair causing him to become far too relaxed.

“You should go, mi amor…Don’t need EZ coming in to drag you back.” She joked as he began to lift himself from her body.

“Like to see him try.” He flirted with a wink, his hair now ruffled from her fingers. He helped her sit up, hands cradling her face. They kissed, tongues moving together in tandem. His fingers tangled in her hair, something she noticed he did often.

“Te quiero, mi dulce.” He mumbled against her lips, soft brown eyes reflecting the sincerity in his words and voice.

Isabelle caught his lips again, stroking his biceps. “Te quiero, mi Ángel.” She replied once they’d broken apart.

He began to get dressed, handing her clothes to her as he went. When the last button on his flannel was done, he moved towards her and kissed her quickly on the lips. Isabelle tightened the sash on her robe, forgoing redressing until she cleaned up Angel’s mess.

“We’ll finish that conversation when I get back.” He warned with a ringed finger pointed in her direction. A dangerous smirk adorned his lips, that playful look back in his eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” She teased, knowing she was a goner. “Cuidado.” She pleaded in a more serious tone, catching his eye as he walked to the bedroom door. He grinned, a mixture of love and mischief.

“Always am, baby.” He opened the door and shot her one last heart-melting smile before he was shouting for his brother. “Let’s go, Prospect!”

Isabelle shook her head and laughed, listening to them bicker as they left. She felt her cheeks heat when she overhead EZ teasing Angel about what he’d heard. Angel being Angel, only boasted, not the least bit embarrassed.

She listened to them drive off, heart swelling and thighs sticking. Angel always knew how to give the best goodbyes.

[spideyeuphoria]

somebody she loved // chapter one

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader (Soulmate AU)

My first one-shot! I’ve been thinking about this soulmate concept for awhile, it’s certainly different from traditional soulmate AU’s, but I hope you’ll like it! Quite the lengthy story, so prepare for multiple parts!

Summary: One soulmate. Like everybody else, you only get one soulmate your whole life. Soulmates were there forever, if cherished and loved carefully. But when it came to you and your soulmate, the universe was cruel and unfair. It was almost as if things were never meant to work out in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping

Flashbacks in italics!

—————————————————————————

Fifty days.

Fifty days for you to lose it all.

Fifty days was all it took for you to lose him.

Was it for good reason? Only the dying specks of colors that danced across your eyelids could say.

When you were old enough, your parents taught you at the beginning why the world you lived in was always monochrome, always in black and white.

Black and white?

Terms you could not familiarize not know the meaning, but your parents said that you would soon understand enough. You would soon understand the world’s greatest enlightenment: love.

“It’s all fairly simple, Y/N. Just like you, your dad and I saw life without color. That’s just how it’s always been. But once I met your father, things changed.” Your mom beamed at you, almost reminiscing their youthful and bashful memories.

Your father nodded, asking you, “Honey, do you know what a soulmate is?”

Dumbfounded, you shake your head. You desperately wanted to know what this ‘color’ and ‘soulmate’ all meant, and how it would ever apply to you.

“Your soulmate is your person. Your soulmate brings out the very best in you. Someone you think about the first thing you wake up in the morning and the last thing you think of before you sleep. Your soulmate loves you unconditionally, as you do them, and fight through every obstacle life throws at you together.” Your dad described, filling you with awe.

You cocked your head to the side, “How did you know Mom was your soulmate?”

“I can’t remember if it was at the coffee shop or-“

“Honey, where else could it have been?” Your mom cut your dad off, sounding mock-offended.

You giggled at your parents’ banter as your dad grinned from ear to ear.

“I’m just kidding, sweetheart. Of course I remember,” Your dad turned to you again. “Your mom was the most beautiful woman I ever laid my eyes on at the coffee shop. The way her hair effortlessly framed her face, to the glimmer in her eyes. And when she handed me my coffee-“

“His hand touched mine,” Your mother finished. “And the world became clear. The world was filled with new sensations and visions that we had both never seen before. My world-our worlds- were and still beautiful. And one day, you will find your soulmate, Y/N. The day you find them, you’ll understand what it means to see the world for what it truly is. You’ll understand what love feels like.”

Your parents’ description of this ‘love’ sparked not only curiosity, but great amounts of excitement spilling from your being.

And from that day forward, you waited for your soulmate. You wondered what they’d look like. How you would meet them. What you both would say.

At times, the concept of love would fall short on you. You would overhear talk of many of your friends already finding their soulmates before you and see moments in public where strangers would come together as soulmates for the very first time.

While it made you happy, seeing so many people in ‘love’, insecurity spewed from your aching heart. You craved to know how it all felt like.

“His name is Dean,” your best friend Lucy exclaimed, who couldn’t hide her lovesick expression from her features. “He’s sweet, kind..he’s extremely funny. Like really, really funny. I’ve never met someone who makes me laugh so hard like he does!”

You had no choice but to force a smile, trying your best not to show any jealousy to your friend as you sheepishly nod your head. Lucy breathed in, realizing she was sounding inconsiderate of your feelings.

“Oh Y/N, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine, Lucy. Really.” You interjected her apology, rubbing the nape of your neck.

Lucy showed some sympathy for you, taking ahold of your hand and squeezing it lovingly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Your soulmate’s coming, I know they are! The day you’ll meet them will certainly be one of the best feelings in the whole world! I promise.”

You wondered if you truly did have a soulmate. As time passed, your patience grew thin as well your beliefs that your soulmate was even real.

By the time your junior year had come around, the thought of soulmates began to slip your mind. College applications served as a productive distraction, doing your best to balance extracurriculars and community service.

Little did you know what was yet to come.

Late Friday afternoon, you were walking to the subway station from the downtown library because your study session with your peers had already ended. The sun was starting to set, so you knew you had to make your paces if you wanted to catch the last train.

As the night breeze grew stronger, chills ran down your spine with every step you took. You clutched onto the straps of your backpack hesitantly, looking around. There were barely any people on the streets at this time of hour, and if that didn’t let the fright sink beneath your skin, the scattered footsteps you suddenly heard behind you certainly would.

You were bold enough to turn your head, fixating on a hooded figure loosely following your trail. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned back around and proceeded to be hastier with your movements, taking larger strides.

As soon as your heard the figure’s footsteps grow closer to you, you began to bolt for your life.

Your footsteps grew heavier, sending jolts of pain from your ankles to your knees. The evening air shocked your throat as you inhaled deeper, faster.

You yelped as you felt a large hand covering your mouth while the other tugged at your waist, trying to lift you from the ground.

Tears filled your eyes, your muffled cries turning into growls while you kicked and struggled for dear life. Your life was flashing right before your eyes.

Everything that has led up to this moment, and you wouldn’t be able to see your family or friends ever again. You were extremely fearful for the fate that was laid for you.

You shut your eyes, feeling the stranger drop you onto the concrete floor, but you were too afraid to open them. The sounds of erratic movements had caused fear to utterly paralyze you.

Then suddenly, it grew overwhelmingly quiet. The silence that looked over you was unbearable. You felt another hand grab your arm, but you desperately cried you, “Please! Don’t hurt me!”

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m not gonna hurt you! The other guy’s gone. Hey, open your eyes.”

The mellow, soft male voice caught your attention. You decided to trust this new figure and slowly opened your eyes.

And you saw the world for what it truly was.

It was like you were taken back to when you were little, remembering your parents’ speech about the ‘colors’ and how it would change your life.

It was stunning.

The bright hues of the sky illuminated your savior, someone you have familiarized from the news and you were sure that even he heard your heart pounding out of your chest.

Despite hiding behind a mask, you could tell he was just as surprised looking at you too.

Hs extends a hand, to which you gladly accept, getting yourself back in your feet. You stare at him for what felt like eternities, was only a few minutes.

You turn to the wonderful mixture of colors that was beginning to set on the skyline, then return your attention back to him.

“Y-You see this, right?” You stuttered, almost at a loss for words.

He frantically nodded, “Yeah! I-I do. I see it. And I..I see you.”

A shy blush crept up to your cheeks, half smiling. You couldn’t believe it.

You had finally found your soulmate.

And who knew it would be the masked vigilante, Spider-Man?

It all felt too surreal. He was what you were thinking of, dreaming of for forever. And he was finally in front of your very eyes.

To your surprise, the superhero willingly removed his mask, revealing his identity to you. You figured he couldn’t hide his secret from his soulmate, given how fate had brought you two together.

You still couldn’t describe the colors of his hair or his eyes, but you definitely felt yourself getting mesmorized by his freckles and the similar glimmer in his eyes that your father said he also found in your mother’s.

“I guess..you’re my soulmate. I’m Peter. Parker.” He finally introduced himself. He stuck his hand out again.

But instead of shaking his hand, you threw yourself over him, enveloping him into a deep embrace. At that moment, you weren’t sure if you were going to cry tears of sadness or joy. Peter was taken aback, but immediately reciprocated into the hug.

You still have your arms around his neck, pulling your head back to meet him eye to eye. “Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

You both mirror each other’s smiles and tilt your heads up to the skies. Silence goes by again, but it’s comfortable silence.

“I wish I knew what color it was.” You sighed aloud to Peter.

Peter half smiled. “My aunt told me it’s orange? Kind of a weird color, if you ask me.”

“Orange, huh?” You nodded in agreement. “I like it.”

Peter admired the adoration that you wore proudly on your face. He couldn’t believe had finally had you. The wait was finally worth it. And you were both each other’s wholes.

But what the future held for you and Peter was not a fulfilling nor colorful one.

[siriuslysnuffles]

day three of twenty-seven of “27 Days of James Potter 2019″ (yes, I am a few behind–midterms). this one is a rewritten version of one I did last year so it may look familiar but about a third (word-wise) was added, so enjoy happy jily. (also this is part eight of the “of intimacy” series).

viii. of nerves, a question.

He chuckled as she once more switched positions in his bed, accidentally shoving him this time. ‘I ‘l’ll leave if you want, Cariad,’ he said placing a kiss on the top of her head.

‘No, you’re warm,’ she moaned softly, pressing her lips against his neck as he made to get up. He resisted the small moan that wanted to escape his lips. He didn’t think he could afford to let her know how much those tiny actions affected him, how much of him she had control of. He trusted her to never break that part of him though, so perhaps it was more for his pride than anything else. 

His hand stroked her curls gently, ‘We have to get up soon, you know?’ He watched her as she closed her eyes, observing the freckles on her face that he had to resist kissing while in public in order to be “professional” about their duties. He didn’t resist doing so now. ‘We have the prefects meeting in an hour,’ he mumbled onto her skin. 

She looked up to glare at him but the blush on her cheeks didn’t leave much room to be terrified. ’Stop ruining the mood, Potter.’ Her eyes held a glint to them as she repositioned her head on his chest. ‘I’m trying to enjoy myself.’ 

Those words made him speechless for a moment. He coughed before saying in a semi-hoarse tone, “And did you enjoy yourself?’ He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly before placing a kiss on her nose. Her cheeks reddened once more, before making a request for James to “shut it.” He laughed and began playing with the shirt she wore (his shirt), moving it to the side so he could kiss the skin underneath.

‘James,’ she said in faux exasperation, a hint of a smile present on her face. He placed another kiss on her neck before pulling away.

He grinned his lopsided grin at her, the smile that was only ever for Lily (and occasionally Professor McGonagall). The dimpled grin that Lily had to resist the urge to kiss when they had been friends. Really, it was quite a beautiful dimple, she thought as she let one of her fingers touch it tentatively.

‘What are you doing,’ he asked in awe. He was looking at her with warm eyes that could have melted her right there, eyes that felt as if they could move the entire universe if he asked. She couldn’t believe that she had ever thought those eyes were brown. They weren’t brown, they were Lily-Evans-melting hazel eyes that deserved an award for their mischievous glint that usually lied behind them. 

‘You have a dimple,’ she said in a dazed tone. ‘Right there,’ she poked the spot where the dimple had been moments before. ‘I like it.’

James flushed lightly. He was always surprised when she mentioned one of the things she liked about him, not that he should be surprise that Lily (his amazing girlfriend) was saying those things. He was often left with the feeling that it couldn’t be real, that he couldn’t have gotten this fortunate to have her reciprocate his feelings, but he had. He had gotten lucky enough to have her as his girlfriend, have Lily who told him that she loved his glasses when he would get insecure around her whenever they would occasionally (or not so occasionally) bump into her face while they were kissing. Have Lily who said she loved his messy hair despite having stated otherwise in their youth. Have Lily who loved that he couldn’t be still for very long without having to move like a tornado wreaking havoc wherever it went. Most importantly, he was lucky to have Lily who loved him and who he loved in every sense.

He couldn’t help smiling down at her again, her face lit up. ‘See, right here.’ She leant up and placed a kiss on it, squealing in surprise as James rolled them over. ‘We have an hour, James,’ she giggled as he placed kisses down her neck, the hand that wasn’t cradling her face was moving down under her shirt.

‘Lily, Lily, Lily,’ he chanted lightly, making sure she could feel every syllable on her skin. Merlin, he loved her, loved her so much that he didn’t think he could handle the mind-consuming feeling of loving her at times. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved his lips back to her mouth. He groaned against her before releasing her and nuzzling into her neck. She stroked his hair softly, carefully causing a smile to make itself onto his face.

‘You’re a bit mad, aren’t you?’ Her finger continued their ministrations on his hair, eliciting a soft whimper from him. He wanted to cry because he loved her, because he didn’t ever want to love anyone else. She was it, she was everything. 

‘Marry me,’ he whispered. 

He hadn’t meant to say it, not now. Not in this moment, he had had everything planned for how he would ask. It was going to be perfect. He felt himself flinch, he couldn’t dare look up at her and instead chose to hide himself in her neck. He felt very much like a child in the moment,  but it was a very beautiful neck to hide his embarrassment in.

‘James?’ she questioned as she detached herself from him. ‘Do you mean it?’ Her eyes searched his for an answer. ‘Do you want me to marry you?’

He felt like he had just had his voice taken away from him–she had stolen his voice, that was the only explanation for why he couldn’t so much as utter a single syllable. If he hadn’t been sure she was a Muggle-born, he would have questioned whether she was part-Veela. 

He nodded slowly, aware that he currently looked like an utter mess. 

‘Yes,’ she said, tears in the green eyes staring at him. Her face glowing as if she had just won a million galleons before she threw her arms around his neck, kissing his neck, jaw, every surface within her reach. It took him a moment before he was able to process what she had said. 

Hesitantly he stopped her kissing, taking her face delicately in between his hands. ‘Yes,’ he asked as he stroked her cheeks gently, wiping away stray tears. 

She sent him the biggest grin he’d ever seen before leaning up and kissing him again. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, James Fleamont Potter.’

He felt tears in his own eyes. ‘I have a ring for you,’ he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment. Hesitantly rolling off of her, he pulled the box from his bedside table. ‘Get dressed, cariad, I want to do it properly.’

Lily threw her head back and let out a soft, euphoric laugh, ‘I already said yes.’ Her eyes stared at him incredulously. 

He leant down to kiss her, a lovesick smile on his face. ‘I know, but I’m not telling our children that I proposed to their mother while we were snogging in bed.’ He pressed a kiss to her head before pulling on his robes over his head.

‘No one told me I was pregnant,’ she teased as she got up. She had just managed to pull on her trousers before James’ hand had latched onto hers, barely giving her enough time to put on her shoes and grab her robes from the floor before dragging her down a multitude of stairs and corridors until they were at James’ favourite tree. The same tree where she had once rejected him in favour of the Giant Squid, the same one where he had once carved their initials on a piece of bark accompanied with Lily’s carving of a heart underneath. It was their tree. 

‘Lily Evans, cariad,’ he began as he got down on one knee. He was shaking slightly. ‘I had an entire speech written that is probably shite, and I think I mentioned the colour of your eyes at least twenty times, but all I really want to say is that I love you more than anything, Lil. I want to marry you and have a family with you. I want to grow old and embarrass our children together and tell them all the stories about how I was an idiot who could only hope to capture your heart like you had mine and somehow did. I want to make you as happy as you make me because you’re it for me, Evans. There’s no going back, I’m yours, and I love you and promise to always be there for you for the rest of our lives. So do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?’

‘Yes, you prat,’ she said, tears making their way down her face once more. ‘And you do make me happy, happier than I have ever been.’

He slid the ring onto her finger, the green stones on the side of the diamond matching the colour of her eyes. 

‘You’re stuck with me now, Evans,’ he joked.  

She threw herself into his arms again, whispering her love for him into his ear as he held her tightly against him, reveling in his state of exultation, pressing kisses on her skin like he had done in his dorm. It felt surreal that she had just agreed to marry him, but he couldn’t be happier than he was now.  

They arrived late for the meeting, not that they minded all that much. Their robes were wrinkled, hair tousled, and lips swollen. 

‘Sorry we’re late,’ Lily said as they shuffled in, moving her fingers to tie up her red locks. There were whispers as the prefects took note of the beautiful and luxurious ring on her left hand.

James took Lily’s hand in his, daring anyone to comment as he began speaking. His eyes softening when he turned it over to Lily who rewarded him with a smile. 

He could feel a glare aimed his way, but nothing would ruin this feeling for him. He would be married to Lily by next year, and not even Snape would be able to shatter James’ happiness. Snape and the rest of the world could scorn them for all he cared, because really what were they in the midst of his happiness with Lily? 

feedback?

[goldenchildkatsuki]

i dont read a lot of fanfiction and idek if its a fanfiction trope but. i dare u to turn one of them into a yandere

boom, done my friend!

Summary: Bakugou and Uraraka have been invited to have lunch with Bakugou’s dad, his boss and his kid. Uraraka was not very fond of Bakugou’s clothing choice.

Writers Note: I asked on Tumblr to send a cliché fanfiction trope in my ask box and I would make a decent Kacchako drabble out of it. This is for the first ask I received, someone DARED me to turn one of them into a yandere which is a trope I had been thinking about writing for a long time. I chose to not write anything too extreme, like abuse or gorey murder but chose to go with my (softer) take of a yandere. And of course it was too cliché to turn Bakugou into a yandere so….

I hope this wasn’t too OOC lmao

Word count: 2.426

AO3 link: (x)

UNDER THE WHITE COLLAR

From his bed she watched him move around the room, patiently waiting for him finish dressing up. His hair was still damp and sticking to his forehead and some strands met his eyelashes. With a groan he would wipe his sweat away whilst rummaging in drawers and piles of dirty laundry.

Uraraka could watch this for hours on end and never even feel the slightest hint of boredom. She would try not to blink for the longest time, to not miss anything of the film that was Bakugou Katsuki.

“Your belt is still unbuckled.”

“I know.”

“You only got one sleeve rolled up.”

“I’m working on it for fuck sakes!” he slightly raised his voice out of frustration, not being able to find a particular clothing item he had been looking for this entire time.

Bakugou walked back to a drawer he had opened at least three times before and opened it again. He kneeled down and swiped his hair back in a smooth motion. Uraraka watched him dig to the back of the drawer and then take out a navy blue tie. He threw it over his shoulder as they dropped from relief and stood up. Uraraka held her breathe as he walked up the mirror above his desk and fixed his hair.

“Ochako, how long do we have left before we need to walk to the station?” Bakugou asked as he ruffled his hair.

The question was not reciprocated, his voice being blocked out by her heartbeat that was echoing in her ears. Feeling the drum throughout her whole body, almost feeling sick as her body temperature started rising with every second that passed. Anxiously she peered at the tie, almost falling from Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Uraraka?”

“What do you need a tie for darling?”

She placed her feet on the cold floor, wiggling her toes impatiently. Uraraka tried to make eye contact with him in the mirror but the boy kept averting his gaze, looking upwards at the strands of hair that weren’t in place. He was thinking, picking out the right words to say. He audibly swallowed, making the tension weigh even heavier in the room.

“My old man suggested I should wear one. Look, I don’t like dressing up for 2 hours of unnecessary chit chat alright but it’s his boss and his kid that are joining us. So, I get why that nervous wreck wants me to look all nice.” His words came out rather smoothly for someone that had to wipe his palms on the back of his pants.

Bakugou gave his hair one more ruffle before giving up on it and facing Uraraka, who stayed silent. Still wiggling her toes she looked at his tie. Slowly a look of distaste clouded her face, with a wrinkled nose stuck up in the air and furrowed brows she watched Bakugou wrap one end of the tie around his neck.

“It’s just a tie Ochako, fuck! Aren’t girl supposed to like dressed up boys?”

Uraraka’s face clouded even more. She couldn’t handle the tone of his voice. Why did push her feelings aside? He knew exactly how she felt. It wasn’t just a tie. And she did like seeing him all dressed up. But only when it’s all for her. Bakugou was a film only she was allowed to watch. A private showcasing only she could get tickets to. Where she can shamelessly pin him till her eyes go dry and her version goes hazy.

Bakugou propped the collar of his white dress shirt and adjusted his tie. “Can you get over it and help me for a second? I haven’t done this in a while.”

Uraraka stood up from the bed and walked over to him as he buttoned up his white dress shirt to the top. She could feel her blood boiling and her sweat get cold. She tried to soften the muscles in her face, but couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from twitching slightly and her nostrils from flaring. At this point her heart was going to give in, it was skipping beats as if it could give out at any moment. She felt so sick. ‘Lovesick’ she called this feeling. Uraraka didn’t mind it feeling this way. It was a sign of true love after all. If your partner didn’t make you come close to feeling like your heart is about to give out then do you really care about them? Do you truly love them?

She held on to both ends of the tie and gripped them tightly. “I like it when you leave a few buttons open, like you always do.” She pulled him closer with every word.

Bakugou chuckled at her. “You know I can’t do that.” His gaze traveled down from her eyes, to her lips, to her hands. He quickly met her eyes again, noticing how white her knuckles were from the strong grip.

“Your dad only suggested it. Don’t you want to show each other off? Don’t you want to show off the fact that your mine?” Uraraka laughed, trying to relieve some of the tension that was still in the air. There was no need for him to tip toe around. They were on one line. He knew exactly what she wanted from him and what he needed to do. It couldn’t be that he was shy could it? Prideful, overconfident and arrogant Bakugou wouldn’t even have the word ‘shy’ in his dictionary. But then why were all nine of his button still up? Maybe her laughter wasn’t enough to relieve the tension and sway him. Maybe she wasn’t enough. To make her stop herself from entering a dark part of her mind Uraraka repeated her question.

“Don’t you want to show off the fact that your mine?”

Bakugou put his hands on hers and looked her in the eye, the look of sternness in his face threw her off. “Look Ochako. Of fucking course I want to do that. But it’s my dad’s boss we’re meeting. Good impressions aside, my dad will abso-fucking-lutely loose his mind when he sees that shit.” His hands slid down to her wrists. “Besides, having such a knock-out of a girl with me isn’t hard to show off, showing each other off is the least of our worries.” He tried to reassure her.

Uraraka pushed their bodies closer together and pouted. “I bought a new dress, I curled my hair, I did my make-up, I tried to look as pretty as I can for you. So you would be proud to have me next to you, hold my hand and show me off. Now, how am I going to show you off?”

Bakugou smirked. “I dressed up too you know. And you can always hold my hand.”

She let an end of the tie slip out of her hand as she pulled at the other end, right from under his collar. “I could do that yes, but would that be enough? I mean, you have a menacing face that can tell other people: ‘don’t touch her, she’s mine.’ I’m nearly not that intimidating…”

She paused and stared at the veins in Bakugou’s neck. “…So how can I say ‘don’t touch him.’?” Bakugou hands slid down to her forearms as she raised her hands to the top button of the dress shirt, fingers hovering above it as she looked up at the gallant boy.

“Ochako.”

“Darling.”

With a single finger she traced the edge of the button and waited for him to continue speaking. But the small distance between them and the hypnotizing movement of her finger left him speechless and flustered.

“Don’t be shy. You’re breaking my heart when you’re like this.” Uraraka said in a low voice. “But don’t worry,” she said as she started to undo the first button. “I’ll make it so you can’t shy away from me, leave a mark or two, so you and others know who you belong to.”

Bakugou’s pupils dilated as her fingers brushed his skin. “We can’t-“

Uraraka continued to pop two more buttons open as she watched him give into her subtle demands. After opening the third button she placed her lips right under his collar bone and started sucking on his skin. She felt his unsteady breathe under her lips and couldn’t help but smile. After making sure she left a mark she lifted her head and wiped the now bruised patch of skin clean with her thumb.

“You love me right?” Uraraka let the tie fall to the floor and placed her hand on the back of his neck.

“You know I do.” He breathed next to her ear.

“Since when have you become so scared of showing it?”

Uraraka moved towards his shoulder, only having moved inches away from the first bruise and left another one on Bakugou’s skin, this time she was satisfied with the color the bruise had started to take. A deep shade of fuchsia. Passion made Bakugou jerk under her lips, a deep sigh leaving his body as she cleaned off the love bite again. She watched Bakugou adjust himself, keeping himself from shaking as his fingers struggled to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“Listen. Back of the neck. Not above the collar. Got it?”

“You’ve lost your say in this moments ago.” a malicious smiled appeared on her face as she watched Bakugou undress himself. He turned around and revealed her canvas to her. His back was filled with bruises and scratch marks she had left on him. Most of the bruises had started to fade or had turned into an interesting mix of colors. She loved the bites that had turned yellow, it made her feel proud of her work because it lasted on his body for so long. The scratch marks from morning were still visible, his skin still being swollen and slightly irritated. She traced the long red lines coming from right in between his shoulders blades to right in between his back dimples, which was one of her favorite places to mark him. It left him begging for more of her and completely weak at the knees.

She loved the reaction of others when Bakugou’s shirt lifts when he yawns or when he forgets to button up properly. First a look of confusion on their faces, followed with wide eyes and an unhinged jaw from surprise and an uneasy crooked smile on a red face to end it with. If she ever caught a different reaction from people, if they didn’t have that reaction and seemed to have gained the slightest bit more interest in him, her whole mood would turn sour. She wished to hurt those people. Whilst still knowing it was morally wrong she hadn’t dare hurt or even confront anyone for possibly lusting over someone that was out their reach. Instead she projected the frustration out on Bakugou, leaving more and more marks on him to show people how impossible it was to take away her canvas, it was full and there was no room for others. He was hers and hers alone. Her film, her canvas, her love.

Uraraka chose a spot in the curve going from his neck to his shoulder and decided to revive the color in an old bruise. She placed her nails on his tough and muscled back and moved upwards and to the front, right below his ear and continued working on her masterpiece. Now making her tongue slide over his skin as she sucked, making him shudder and throw his head back.

“Fuck Ochako, I said not above the god damn collar didn’t I? He groaned towards the ceiling.

Uraraka pressed down her nails and moved her lips to under his jaw. A growl escaped Bakugou’s mouth as she started sucking harder than she did before, intending to make the bruise large and dark color. She felt a tingling sensation on her tongue, it slightly hurt but she kept going. Bakugou let out a small wince and put a hand on the back of her head.

“Shit, that one kinda hurt.”

“Now you know how I felt.” Her voice sounded intense, feelings of lust battling with the anger and the slight heartache that was still inside her body. ‘

Uraraka’s nails traveled down his back, not digging in too hard so she wouldn’t open up the scars from the morning. Her lips brushing along her jaw as she kept choosing new places to create dark bites. Leaving a small kiss after every new addition to her masterpiece.

Eventually she faced Bakugou again. The sweat on his forehead had reappeared and she could read hunger of his lips. He looked so beautiful when he was trying to contain himself like that. She couldn’t decide what was more interesting; having him in the palm of her hand or letting him take over. Both ideas left her feeling impure and bothered. Making sure he wouldn’t combust right there and then she took her time to wipe the saliva of the trail of purple supernova like bruises.

He looked so beautiful it hurt.

So beautiful that she didn’t want to go out, that she didn’t want to share his looks. She wanted him all for herself and keep on painting her canvas. Carve her initials into his skin, suck every blood cell to the surface, make him her own piece of art.

“I think this says more than ‘don’t touch him.’” Bakugou breathed, frustration still hanging of his lips.

“That was the point.”

“So, are you happy now?”

“Very.” Uraraka smiled at him.

She stepped away and let Bakugou pick his shirt and tie up from the floor started to dress himself again. She watched his muscles relax as he had accepted that this was not the time for him to shudder below him. It was about him. Uraraka wasn’t the one who needed love and affection at that point, she didn’t need a reminder. She never really did either way. The mutual understanding they created around this was more than satisfactory.

Bakugou grumbled when he couldn’t fix his tie, Uraraka lifted his chin and did it for him, smiling proudly as she saw what she had done. Bakugou turned to the mirror and lifted his chin.

“Somehow I thought it wasn’t thát bad, but fucking hell was I wrong.”

He pressed on the love bites and squinted as they still hurt.

“My old man can never look at me the same way again after this stupid lunch.”

“At least he knows that you’re loved.”

[my-emotional-self]

The Actor and The Photographer (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Awkwardness?

Word Count:  2,148

Summary: You are a freelance photographer who happens to photograph Chris Evans.

You were sat on the couch, your laptop nestled gently on your lap as you scrolled through your most recent photoshoot photos, trying to pick the best ones.  The curtains were drawn letting in the warm New England sun on this bright Sunday late morning.  The hum of the announcers for the New England Patriots swept through your apartment as birds sang happily outside.  

Your phone rang making you quickly swipe it open and answer.  “This is Y/N.”

“Hi Y/N, this is Zach from GQ magazine.  I was hoping to book you for a shoot this Wednesday if you are available,” Zach said from the other line as you smiled to yourself.  Zach was always a pleasure to work with and you never had any problems with him.  

“Let me just check my schedule real quick, hold on” you remarked, setting your phone down before hastily grabbing your planner from your purse.  “Nope, I’m all free.  What are the details?”

“Our office in New York, Wednesday at 2pm, Chris Evans” Zach replied, his voice smooth as he gave you all the details you needed on whether you would approve or deny this opportunity.

You had never photographed Chris before, and he was definitely one of your top people you always wanted to work with.  “Yeah, I can make that happen.”

“Great, see you Wednesday morning.”

Ending the phone call, you sat back down on the couch, letting out a sigh as you got back to work.

~~~

Wednesday morning came as your alarm woke you from your slumber; the hotel pillows not as comfortable as your own as you massaged the kink from your neck.  The drive from Boston to New York City was a little over four hours so you decided to make the drive last night, and stay at a hotel rather than get up at five in the morning and go through traffic.  

Taking a quick shower, you bow dried your hair and put on some mascara.  You were never one for makeup; really only wearing it for special occasions. You threw on a pair of black skinny jeans, combat boots and a torn Nirvana shirt.  This was one of the best things about being a freelance photographer; you made your own rules.  You didn’t have to go out to buy a whole new ‘professional’ wardrobe.  Being in the business for a little over five years now, you made a name for yourself and people knew what to expect from you.  

You decided taxi would be much less daunting than driving through New York City.  The drive was effortless for the taxi driver as you went through Zach’s email on your phone; your trust camera bag hugging your hip.  Your phone vibrated in your hand; a text from your brother coming through.  

Tom: Hey little sis, what are you up to today?

Y/N: I’m actually in NYC, about to do a photoshoot.  

Tom: Coincidentally, I’m also in NYC.  Give me your location and I’ll drop off some lunch for you.

You snorted at his last text, rolling your eyes.  He was always looking out for you as your big brother; taking care of you even though you were 31 years old.  

Y/N: Really Tom, you don’t have to do that.  They will have food there like they always do.

Tom: Quit crying and give me the address.  

This time you laughed, the taxi driving looking at you from the mirror before his eyes went back to the road.  You gave Tom the address of where your photoshoot was being held.  

Tom: Great.  I won’t have time to sit and chat but I’ll at least bring you some good food.  I’ll see you later

Pulling up to the GQ offices, you paid and tipped the driver before letting yourself out of the car.  Zach greeted you as you walked in; the two of you easily making chit chat as he showed you to the space where the photoshoot would be held.  

It was about a half hour before Chris would show up so you started to unpack your things, setting everything up and taking a few test shots of the hair and makeup crew setting up in the corner.  

You heard some giggling and whispers going on behind you.  Turning, you saw the makeup girls looking in your direction; laughing when they saw you look at them before turning their gaze away.  

Your lip curled up in a sneer, shaking your head in disgust.  People always talked about you; about the way you dressed for such ‘professional’ engagements such as celebrity photoshoots; but it never bothered you. You were bullied, a lot in middle school and high school for wearing what you wanted to.  Most people calling you ‘goth’ or ‘emo’ just because you wore band t-shirts, combat boots, and chunky bracelets.  You would never understand why there would be so much hate in the world, just from the way people dressed.  There were, without a doubt, more important issues going on.   People like those girls are the reason you strive to do something different; photograph wildlife.  

In that moment, the doors opened up and Chris Evans himself walked in.  You had to admit, your heart faltered as he glanced over to you and nodded; a smirk appearing on his lips.  He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, along with a, what looked like, a size too small blue t-shirt and a baseball hat.  

You could tell with ease that this wasn’t Chris’ first rodeo.  He went straight to hair and makeup, introducing himself before sitting down in the chair to get ready.  

As they were tending to Chris, you couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction; his soft blue eyes often meeting yours through the mirror.  Each time your eyes connected, you felt your face heat up with embarrassment from being caught looking at him.  In all your time photographing celebrities, you never got flustered. Not.  One.  Bit. And here comes Chris, changing that.

Chris cleared his throat, getting your attention and you almost dropped your camera as you were lost in your own thoughts; thoughts of seeing him shirtless while getting into his wardrobe.  

“Hi, Chris Evans” he said as he held out his hand, waiting for you to take it; his cerulean eyes staring you down making the butterflies stir in your stomach.  

Do something Y/N, your mind screamed at yourself as you just stood there, getting lost in his blue orbs. “Y/N.  Y/N Brady, nice to meet you Chris” you finally managed to say as you placed your smaller hand in his large calloused, but warm hand.  “You ready?” you asked with grin, hoping to not be a nervous bumbling idiot during the next few hours.  

Chris gave you a wink, “I’m all yours!”

At his words, your heart drummed so forcefully in your chest, you thought you would explode. Chris turned around and went towards the white backdrop as you mentally slapped yourself.  Get a grip Y/N!!  Never have you felt such a pull towards someone; never faltering at their words; never feeling like a lovesick teenager.  You just met the guy for craps sake!  

Mentally shaking your thoughts away, you put your camera on the tripod, adjusting the frame and lighting as needed before getting down the business.  

~~~

Chris was, overall, one of the easiest people you had ever worked with before.  You had photographed many actors, singers, and sports stars over the last five years and you knew most of them would be divas and hard to work with.  But Chris was different; he was easy to instruct.  He listened to your every suggestion on how to pose, and what he should be doing.  He even made you laugh by cracking jokes, and making comments.  

“Lunch time” Zach said as he opened the door for the catering company.  Everyone in the room quietly cheering as other workers set up tables around the room.  

Your stomach was rumbling, begging for food as you smelled the delicious catering; but you were more excited to see what your brother was bringing you.  

As people started to dig in to their food, you scanned the room, seeing Chris eating at the table closest to where you were standing; his PA sitting next to him.  

“Y/N” you heard your name being called as you turned to see your brother Tom standing in the doorway, a ‘Patsy’s Pizzeria’ pizza box in hand.  It took everything you could muster to not make a fool of yourself by jumping up and down.  Patsy’s Pizzeria was by far, your favorite pizza joint ever!  

“You are a lifesaver Tom!” you gushed as you pranced to your brother, giving him a hug before taking the box from him.  “Are Giselle and the kids with you?”

“No, they are back home. I’m just here for the day, but I actually have to rush.  I got caught up in traffic and I’m going to be late so I’ll see you at the game on Sunday?” his eyebrows raised in anticipation for your answer.  

“Yes I’ll be there on Sunday.  Wouldn’t miss it” you answered before giving him a kiss on the cheek; Tom reciprocating the gesture before heading out the door.  

Turning around, you paused when you saw Chris looking at you, his mouth agape as his food filled fork was paused in the air.  Furrowing your brows, you went to take a seat across from his, setting down the pizza box.

“Everything alright?” you chuckled out as you dug out a large slice of pizza.  

“That was Tom Brady” Chris choked out, his face contorted in surprise.  

You giggled at how awe struck he looked, “You sure don’t miss a thing do you?”  You immediately scolded yourself for saying such a thing to a client; hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way.  Having a sarcastic mouth sometimes got you into trouble and you were hoping now wasn’t going to be one of those times.  

“You’re related to Tom Brady?” Chris asked again, his body language still frozen as he stared at you with intensity.  

“Mmmhhmmm” you hummed out, taking a bite from your pizza and chewing rather hastily.  “He’s my older brother.”

Chris’ mouth finally shut, setting down his fork in the process as his hands caressed his beard. You glanced between Chris and his PA, your forehead furrowing in the process trying to figure out what the big deal was.  Chris was a celebrity; he had been in many big blockbuster movies; why would Tom Brady have this kind of effect on him?

His PA leaned over the table in your direction.  “Have you ever felt, that there is one person out there, one, that if you ever met, you would just go completely frozen?”

As your mind turned her question about, you finally nodded your head to her.  “Yeah, I’m sure everybody does” you replied with a shrug.

She smiled at you, “Tom Brady is that person for Chris.”

You didn’t pay too much time to reading gossip columns about celebrities or anything to that sort. You didn’t want it to influence your job in a negative way at all, but now you were sure you could find something on Chris gushing about Tom Brady in an interview!

“Interesting” you said with a sly smile; Chris face beginning to turn a light shade of pink from his PA’s words.  

“It’s not like that alright” Chris chuckled out, finally finding his voice.  “I’m just a really big fan of the Patriots and Tom Brady is pretty amazing at what he does.”

You shook your head with a giggle, “Well, I agree with you on that.”  In that moment, an idea popped into your head, and you didn’t know if it would be overstepping any kind of boundaries or not.  But then again, you were a freelance photographer; you made your own damn rules.  “I’m going to the game on Sunday.  If you’re in town, you’re free to come!”

Chris’ face lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning when they realize how many presents Santa brought them.  

“Really?” Chris asked, his eyes crinkling from the bright smile on his face.  

“Of course” came your soft reply, your grin wide an easy as you nervously fidgeted with your hands under the table.  You hoped he would say yes as you wouldn’t mind getting to know Chris.  Even if it didn’t go anywhere, he seemed like a cool guy to hang around.  

His hand slapped on the table eagerly, but not with enough force to make people look in your direction. “I would love to go to the game on Sunday.”

It was settled, Chris was coming with you to the Patriots came on Sunday to cheer on your brother. The two of you got back to your lunches, stealing glances across the table at one another.  

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for a few months. Part 2??

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