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spidey-sophie · 3 years

Text

Red Light || Tom Holland Smut

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Stripper!Reader (p.s. If mob!Tom isn’t your thing, you can still read this. It is never explicitly confirmed that he is a mob/criminal. Only implied once/speculated. He can be any kind of millionaire!Tom you want to imagine!)

Summary: Every night there are a variety of customers. But this night is different. As you’re doing your usual dance routine, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while, and he is looking back at you, his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance for him and his eyes only.

Word count: 12.2k

Warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, soft!dom!tom, guided female masturbation, edging/one little orgasm denial, oral (female + male receiving), fingering, spanking, ring kink (is there even such a thing?), multiple orgasms, squirting, slight choking, mirror sex, exhibitionism, cum play + swallowing. She also sucks on his fingers a lot, but it's me, so is that even a surprise? Explicit smut - minors dni.

Notes: This is the longest and dirtiest fic I ever wrote! After a loooong break it is finally here! I had so much fun writing this story and I hope you will enjoy reading it. I feel like I talked to so many people about this fic and I want to thank everyone for supporting me! First of all, thanks to everyone who liked and reached out to me after I sent that ask to @duskholland. I had no intention of writing it, but after all the feedback, I had to do it! Biggest thank you ever goes to miss impulsive gemini aka @sinisterspidey for editing this and beta reading it! You're a boss, chlo! Another big one goes to my bday girl @worldoftom who helped me with editing and HYPED me up to finally post this. Also, lovely @hypnotized-so-mesmerized and @nowayhomeparker for jumping in with a few ideas. I hope you'll enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, I am vvvv excited to read your comments!

♡ Ily and happy reading ♡

“Are you nervous?” Your friend and coworker Natalie asks. You’re sitting in front of the large vanity mirror, LED lights showering you with brightness. This is probably your favorite part of the night - putting your makeup on in the right places, transforming into someone else for an evening. But, no matter how much you love doing this, going up on that stage makes your heartbeat rampant. You just smile at her, trying to hide the fact that indeed you are nervous.

“You’re going to be amazing.” She tightens her arms around you, leaving a trace of her glitter on your body. You watch her as she starts removing her wig, humming to the barely audible music from the stage. You’re the newest addition to the current setup, so everyone is being especially nice to you, always asking you if everything’s okay, offering help whenever you need it.

You don’t exactly hate your job.

Sure, it isn’t something that you ever thought you’d do, but here you are, trying to smear the right amount of highlighter over your chest and shoulders. Since backstage was a bit too crowded, you put on your headphones and play the song you’re about to dance to help you relax in the process. After six months, you still get a little nervous before going on that stage. Even though your coworkers often say there’s no reason for it, customers are either too drunk or too thrilled to see you and enjoy your talent. Still, you can’t control your nerves and you need music to stay calm. And sometimes you like to go through the dance routine again before going on stage.

Yes, your dream has always been to be a dancer. You've been showing talent since you were little. Some would say that you first started dancing, and then began walking. However, when you finally started dancing professionally, you never believed that you would do it without clothes. On the pole. In a strip club.

The salary is good. Customers are mostly decent. When, in rare cases, they aren’t, you can always count on the help of the security. You see this job as something temporary, until a better opportunity arises.

The club you work in is extremely popular. The owner made quite a reputation for himself and his club, so people from all parts of London often come to visit the famous “Cherry on Top”. All of the dancers have their own ‘thing’. You’re all shiny, oily, and sexy, and yet every one of you have your own flair. Ruby, who you’re the closest with, is on stage at the moment. She’s best known for her impressive pole skills. You witness her muscular arms holding her entire body on the pole, swinging and swaying. She was the first one who accepted you into the club and offered to give you some tips about pole dancing and flirting with customers.

Once she’s done with her routine, it’s up to you. You watch her collect the money from the floor, thanking the audience and running backstage.

As she passes by you, she whispers, “show them what they came for”, before running off with a wink.

Being the only professionally-trained dancer in the current setup, you made a name for yourself fairly quickly. Everyone already knows that they can expect a great show from you. You don’t only display your body, but also your talent. Or at least that's what you tell yourself. The owner of the club recognized your talent and enthusiasm and made you his main star.

You try to always put on a great show for your audience. Every Thursday night is your night - it’s the night when you do your routine for the first time. And then, you do the same the following Friday and Saturday nights. This time, you picked a rather unconventional outfit for a strip club.

You decide to start dancing wearing a suit. Under your loose-fitted black suit, you’re wearing the tiniest pair of lingerie, with jewels and matching pasties for your breasts. Getting naked in front of an audience was a bit odd at first, but you’re used to it by now. The owner of the club has strict rules and lots of security so you and the girls always feel safe. If someone is causing trouble or tries something that you aren’t comfortable with, all you need to do is to give a quick nod to the security and that guy will be out of the club in the next few seconds.

As you’re finally getting ready to get on the stage, you wink at Tuwaine, the security guy working today. He stands next to the stage, watching carefully over all of the customers, making sure everything is right and stays right throughout the night. You walk slowly up the few stairs until you’re finally on the stage. Just a few seconds ago, Tuwaine set up a chair in the middle of the stage. It’s not unusual for you to use props while dancing, but you’ve been excited for this routine for the entire week. You spot Ruby and Natalie at the bar, giving you thumbs up and cheering for you. They never miss your performances.

The lights are off and once you hear the first beat of the song, you take your place on stage and wait for the lights to come back. You stand in the center of the stage, keeping both hands raised above your head. The chair stands next to you with one of your legs on it, while you stand firmly on the floor with the other.

With the first ray of pink and purple lights you start moving, seductively swaying your hips, but only lightly at first. At the same time, you slowly move your right hand across your left one all the way down to your shoulders.

As soon as the lights are completely on, your movements become more noticeable, stronger and more precise. You drag your right hand over the entire length of the leg that is on the chair. You finally move and strut provocatively behind the chair and caress the back of it with your hands while checking the crowd.

The first piece of clothing you throw away is your hat and you throw it at a table where several young men are, one of them obviously having a bachelor party. You wink at him and turn back to the center of the podium.

You get out of your suit jacket and since your eyes are now finally used to the bright lights you take a moment to look a bit through the crowd. You’re so used to doing this every week, so that you don’t even miss a beat now while exploring the faces of visitors.

Your dancing consists of lots of seductive movements--grinding on the pole, provocative thrusts with your hips, and lots of you touching your body. You want the audience to imagine their hands instead of your own. You love to be in touch with your body, to use your every little move to your advantage. While other dancers usually pick popular hip hop and trap songs, your taste is a bit different. You prefer dancing to softer, slower, more sensual tunes.

There is something about all that attention that you get when you are on stage--being the only thing that the sea of watching eyes is focusing on. Controlling them with your moves. Listening to gasps, moans, and applauses every time you peel off another layer of your clothes. The thought of being their fantasy, the center of their desire, excites you.

The room’s filled with guys, and sometimes girls, too. Every night there are a variety of customers. Businessmen, tech nerds, college boys, bachelorettes, middle-aged men who bring their sons, middle-aged men who want some fun, older guys, younger guys, politicians, celebrities, but also your neighbors. This night isn’t any different.

You recognize some familiar faces, the usual customers who are there almost every night. You nod to Gary, the nice guy who brings you flowers and offers to walk you home every night after you’re done with work. He never tried anything, and he never even paid for a private booth with you. He only brings you flowers and sometimes cards for your birthday or holidays.

Just as you are about to turn around and sit on the chair, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while. He’s sitting at the table behind Gary’s, while pink, purple, and blue lights illuminate him. And he’s looking at you. Once your eyes finally lock, he gives you the cutest smile. He’s wearing a black suit with a light blue shirt underneath, slightly unbuttoned to put his perfect chest on display. You quickly turn around, trying to hide the smile that he most certainly caused. It is not unusual for you to find someone cute in the audience, but this guy is truly something else. From the moment you saw him your heart started drumming and it’s no longer in sync with music. It’s beating faster, doing it’s own thing.

You slowly take off the lower part of the suit, and the cheering of the customers becomes so loud that it emphasizes the music. You sit on the chair and turn towards them and smile as soon as you make eye contact with any of the customers. But still, your smile is most sincere when it meets his honey-colored eyes. You can't describe exactly what attracts you to him so much and why you can't look away.

Is it because of his beautiful face, piercing eyes, or lips that are twisted into the most seductive smile? Is it because of the fact that he sits so casually, and again so masculine, strong, dominant? He is not sitting alone, and there are a couple of other young men at the table with him, two of them that look so much like him and another blonde sitting closest to him. But none of them radiate the same energy as him.

You have to remind yourself, again and again, that you have to dedicate your attention to other customers and take your eyes off of him. At that moment, you are only in a white shirt, and as you reveal one of your shoulders, you hear more and more sighs from the audience. The bottom of your shirt flares enough for all of them to see your shiny pink thong. The dance floor is already flooded with money, but they keep throwing you some more.

You slowly unbutton one shirt at a time and once again look at the mystery hot guy. As you do this, your hips move to the beat of the music and the speed at which you unbutton follows the rhythm. He can't take his eyes off you, as his eyes follow your hands like a magnet. And that's why you decide to tease him. You slowly move your hands from the already unbuttoned shirt and run them along the inside of your thighs. Spreading your legs apart and running your hands painfully slowly over your heat you can see him licking his lips, eyes glued on you. It’s almost like his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights.

You play with the hem of your underwear, teasing the audience, but more so teasing him. He now has a fist in front of his mouth, squeezing it tight, so tight his knuckles are turning white. As much as this teasing is fun, it is that part of the song when you go up on the pole. You get off of the chair and finally take off your shirt.

As you throw away your shirt, you stand next to the pole taking your position and get ready to hop on it. The men howl at the sight of you clasping both of your legs around the pole and grinding upwards using the strength in your upper arms. Once you get high enough, you unclasp your legs from the pole and start slowly swinging back down, holding yourself with both of your hands.

Quickly, you hook your right leg over the pole and hold it tight with your thigh muscle, releasing both of your hands from the pole, and using all of your strength to keep yourself on the pole with just your leg muscles. It took you some time to master the art of pole dancing. You still considered yourself a beginner, but it was fun. It brought more tips.

And now, it’s time for the big move--you’re supposed to turn upside down, hook your right arm over the pole and do a split. It’s a move you kept practicing with Ruby for the past few weeks and now you finally decide to try it. Turning upside down is easy; the harder part is doing a split from this position. In that moment your eyes wander to the mystery cutie and his eyes haven’t left your body, not even for a second. As your legs start spreading apart, his head is slowly moving forward, he’s totally lost in you, watching you in awe with his mouth slightly open.

Almost perfectly synchronized with your legs, his body leans forward. When you finally do the whole split, you notice an almost proud smile on his face. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance only for him and his eyes only.

When you're done with the pole portion of your routine, you slide down, grinding your ass on it. You smirk at all the bills the customers keep throwing at you. You lean your back against a cold, metal pole and start grinding your ass up and down. Almost everyone in the club is cheering for you, but he’s the only one you care about, the only one you’re looking at.

And you’re also the center of his attention. The boys around him are talking but he’s not leaving you out of his sight. He brings one of his hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it a bit more and you notice the rings he has on his fingers. You run your hands up and down your body, while grinding, imagining your hands were his and the pole behind you was his lap.

Your song is almost over, so now it's time for the grand finale. You get up from kneeling next to the pole and strut your way a bit closer to the group of excited men in the front row. You turn around, bend over a bit, and slowly run your hands over your butt cheeks. You move your hands over your hips, waist, all the way to your shoulders. With an innocent expression you turn your head around to face them as you tug your bra strap. And with a faux surprised look on your face you do the same thing with the other strap.

Everyone in the room is howling now, and you finally unclasp your bra and throw it away in the crowd. You can’t help but smile at their reaction. No matter how many nights you do this, that feeling never goes away.

You turn around to face them now, and the first person you look for is the mystery guy. His eyes are now glued to your exposed breasts, only covered by two glitter pasties. He looks up to you and genuinely smiles, with an open mouth, his tongue slightly peeking from the edge of his lips. And then he does the hottest thing you’ve seen in a while--subtly, he tilts his head a bit, and burns through you with his eyes. The right corner of his mouth twitches and moves upwards, forming a devilish smirk. He nods at you, so fast and subtle that if you blinked you would’ve missed it.

You slowly get lower until you are on all fours, face down, ass up, twerking to the sound of beat. You smile to the guys around you, but you can’t help but feel a bit sad because you can no longer see the one you care about the most. Since the song will be over in a couple of seconds, you do another split, this time on the floor, close to your audience. You pick some money from the floor and throw it all over your head.

Slowly, the lights go off and you wait for the stage lights to completely shut down on you and rush backstage, trying not to drop any tips that you collected while dancing. You try to take one last look at the mystery hot guy, but the people around you are standing up, chatting, moving around, or dancing. The little wave of sadness rushes over you and you feel a slight embarrassment in hoping that he’d be waiting for you, cheering for you, or something else.

♡♡♡

After your performance, you quickly change into something more decent and hurry to get out to the bar for a few drinks. Or, to be completely honest, look for the curly haired guy. It’s not like you plan to do anything with him, you just want to look at him a bit more, admire his pretty face and his smile.

Unfortunately, you can’t find him. Your eyes travel from one part of the room to the other, but he is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, superstar!” You can hear Ruby waving at you and inviting you to join her and Natalie at the bar.

“That was so hot! I got turned on, can’t even imagine how these wankers were feeling,” you hear Natalie from behind and, judging by the way she is hanging around your neck, she’s a bit tipsy.

“Thanks, turning you on was my main intention.” You and Ruby smile at her and order your drink while listening to Natalie gushing about Tuwaine, speaking about how sexy and beautiful he is. She always does this, speaking more to herself, every night after she gets a bit drunk. They have some sort of friends with-benefits, complicated relationship, and you know way too many details about it --way more than you want.

You just roll your eyes at Natalie giving him heart eyes and whisper to Ruby, “Uhm, did you, by any case, notice a ver…”

“OMG, here he comes, I can’t talk to that arsehole right now!” Natalie practically screams near your ear and leaves the two of you confused. Once Tuwaine approaches you, her behavior suddenly becomes clear.

“What was that?” he asks, “Nevermind, Y/N, someone asked for a private booth with you. You have ten minutes to get ready. Don’t kill the messenger.”

“What? Fuck, I told the boss I want to stop doing that.” You aren’t very fond of private booths. It’s one thing to be on stage, distanced from everyone, enjoying yourself and flirting with them while dancing. You don’t even mind occasionally strolling through the audience and making small talk with the customers. But being face-to-face with a customer always makes you nervous. The rules are strict – no touching, no kissing, and absolutely, in no circumstances, any kind of sex. And you’re thankful for those rules. Every booth even has a camera installed, something else you like.

“Yeah, he knows, but this is a very important client and he asked specifically for you.” You’re left confused and drain your drink before you go get ready.

“Who is that client anyways?” You ask while coughing a bit since the shot you just drank was a bit too strong.

“Someone from the Holland family.”

“From what?” You ask, having no idea who they are talking about.

“Oh my God, THE Hollands?” Ruby almost spills her drink all over her once hears the name.

“Who are the Hollands?” You are still clueless, but from the look on Ruby’s eyes, you’re the only one in the room who doesn’t know who the Hollands are.

“I can’t believe you don’t know who they are; they own, like, all of London. No one knows how they got so rich--probably some illegal stuff involved. Dad and four sons. I had no idea they’re here. Oh my God, please be safe, they might be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl, Ru, I can take care of myself. But thanks. If anything goes wrong, I can count on this guy anytime.” You throw your hand over Tuwaine’s shoulders. You really have a genuine friendship, and whenever it’s his shift, you feel more safe.

“Yeah, yeah, but you better hurry up.”

“I am, I am, thanks T.” The last thing you want right now is to go and dance for some stranger, and especially not for some fishy millionaire. You’re tired and you want to spend some time with your friends and get a couple of drinks. As you walk backstage to change your clothing, you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed over the fact that just a few minutes ago you were looking for a cute guy who watched you dancing. What were you even thinking could happen? The owner of the club is always very clear - no sleeping with customers, not even after the show. He doesn’t want any allegations or anyone to think that his girls are up for anything other than dancing.

You put a pink wig on your head and pick a baby pink lace thong and a bra with rhinestones on it and rhinestone fringes falling from the bra cups all the way down to your thighs. You add a little lacy garter on your right thigh, and opt for a pair of five inch heels. After one last look in the mirror, you finally feel pleased with the way you look, and start walking towards the area with the private booths. Just as the name `private` says, the area is separate from the rest of the club. The club has six private booths, and almost all of them are always occupied. You nod to the security guy waiting in the hall, and get inside the booth where you’re supposed to be for the next fifteen minutes.

Every booth looks the same--round room with mirrors instead of walls, bordered with leather red furniture. A mini round white dance floor with a pole is located in the middle of the room, and it’s surrounded by the red couch. The lights are dimmed, and red, black and white colors dominate the room.

At first, you can’t see the face of the guy sitting in the center of the room. You can only trace the silhouette of his spread legs. The first thing you notice is his hands, holding the glass of whiskey. There are rings on his fingers and you’re sure you’ve seen them already. Once you’re close enough and you can clearly see his face, you recognize him right away. It takes you a lot to hide your smile, but you probably didn’t do a good job hiding since the first words he tells you are.

“Were you expecting someone else?” His voice sounds even hotter than you could ever imagine, mixed with soft R&B music that is pulsating lightly in the background.

“No one other than you, baby boy.” This is a line you used a lot before, but for the first time in a while you’re actually thinking it. He chuckles at your remark, still wearing that cocky smirk on his face.

You can’t believe that you’re face to face with him now. And that you’re about to dance for his eyes only. You get up on the dance floor and now you’re standing above him. Just looking down at him turns you on so much. You start swaying your hips to the beat, not breaking eye contact with him. He brings his cigar next to his mouth and your eyes are following his every move. The way his jawline tenses while he inhales the smoke drives you crazy.

“How long have you been working here?” he asks, smoke coming out of his mouth and his voice sounding a bit raspier thanks to it.

“Six months.” Usually, you don’t answer personal questions, but there's something about him that makes you open up to him. It’s not just his looks. It’s the way he is sitting, looking, and talking to you. It makes you a bit nervous, vulnerable, but also excited.

“I used to come here more often, can’t believe I never saw you before.”

“Well, you’re seeing a lot of me now,” you wink and turn around. He can now watch your barely covered ass, but you can still see his face on the mirrors around you. And his eyes follow your every move like he’s hypnotized.

“What are the rules now? I haven’t been here in a while.”

“No touching, no kissing, no fucking. Just watching.” You say, as you slowly sway around the pole.

“You can undress, right?” He asks, his eyes lingering on you.

“Yes. Do you want me to?” You grab one of your bra straps, and pray he’ll say yes.

“Not yet. Can I ask you something while you dance?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be honest?” You start moving up and down the pole, now facing him and your back pressed to the pole.

“Anything for you, baby boy,” you wink at him and try to seem as calm and collected as possible. Everything inside you is burning now, palms sweating and legs shaking. You still cannot believe you’re one-on-one with the most beautiful guy you ever saw. And by the glint behind his honey eyes, he is just as infatuated with you. You can feel yourself getting turned on from dancing and from him.

He sits comfortably on the huge bed. His legs are spread, and between them his hand holds a glass of whiskey. You watch the way he brings it up to his mouth, the way his lips spread and the peek of his light pink, wet tongue. You can't help but imagine how much better his tongue would feel on your ass, instead of this cold metal.

“What’s your name?” he finally asks, once he gulps one big sip of whiskey, not even a little twitch in his eyes after swallowing the bitter beverage.

“Oh straight for the hard questions. My name is Destiny,” you smile and he smiles back. It catches you a little bit off guard how much his face softens once he smiles.

“Okay, let’s try this again. Hi, my name is Tom, what’s your name?”

“Hi Tom, my name is Cherry,” you get on all of your fours now, crawling towards him. You stop once you get to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for his next move. Tom lifts up from his seat and leans closer to you, now only inches apart from your face. All of your senses immediately focus on his perfume. He smells sharp, warm and sexy, like vanilla mixed with cigarettes. Not breaking eye contact with you, he reaches for his back pocket, takes a bill and rolls it.

“How about now?” he asks and brings the rolled bill next to your face. Since you’re still on your fours, the only way you can get your tip is if you take it with your mouth. Slowly, you open your mouth and take the bill from his hands. While you do that, you gaze into his eyes and notice the way they get darker, more lustful as you remove the money from his fingers with your teeth.

In a split second it almost seems like he starts leaning forward, like he wants to kiss you, but you quickly hop on your knees and stand up.

“Harmony,” you say as you pull the bill out of your mouth and hook it under the thong, “or Doll, or Spice, or…”

“Fine, fine, I get it.” He says, now sitting back like he used to. “I’m sorry if I crossed any lines, I just can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve never seen you before.”

“Thank you, Tom. This might be your lucky night.” You try to tease him, but you’re still thinking about how sweet he seemed as he apologised. For a supposed extremely wealthy criminal millionaire, he is way too kind. And that turns you on even more.

You wrap your hands around the pole and start swinging, performing your usual routine. And for a few minutes he just sits there and watches you. For the entire time you’ve been in the booth with him, he always had his full attention on you. Tom watches your every curve, every move, every gesture. You reach to remove your bra, and with a slight nod, he gives you the approval to do so.

Once again you’re naked in front of him, his eyes leave yours and your nipples become the center of their attention. They’re so hard for him that it almost hurts. He can now clearly see how turned on he’s got you, and a smirk lingers on his face.

You tease him a bit more and run your hands over your breasts, fingers gently caressing your nipples and slightly pinching them. Tom shakes his head and whispers something to himself. The music is a bit too loud for you to decipher; the only word you can hear is “fuck”. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what you want him to do to you right now. He takes one big smoke of his cigar and runs his long fingers over his thighs, silver and gold rings shining under the low lights. The pants he wears are so tight that you can see the way every muscle on his leg flexes to the rhythm of your dancing.

Your hands travel down to your thigh and just as you grab the garter, you hear him say, “Leave that on.” And you do as he tells you.

“Do you like working here?” he asks and now you sit on the edge of the dancefloor. You spread your legs a bit, just to tease him. You’re still positioned slightly higher than him, so that his face is now on the same level as your core.

“Yes. Do you like doing whatever you do?” You decide to play his game. No matter how much your friends warned you about him, somehow you feel safe enough to ask him that.

“Actually, no. My turn now, have you ever desired a customer?”

“Yes.” And you spread your legs a bit wider as you tell him that.

“Am I one of those customers?” Tom is once again too close to you, looking up at you with a devilish smile.

“You really want to know that?”

“I’m dying to know that,” and the smirk is now gone, he is playfully smiling at you, lighting the entire room as he does that.

“And why would you like to know that, huh? Does the thought of me getting wetter and wetter and touching myself while thinking about you turn you on?”

“What if I tell you that it does?” He leans so close to you, you can almost feel his breath on your inner thighs.

“In that case, my answer is maybe, but maybe not.” You enjoy playing this game with him way too much. And you are fully aware how dangerous everything is, but you just can’t stop flirting with him. The thought of him being turned on by you, the way he moves his hands over his legs, adjusting his shirt, the way his chain moves up and down as he is breathing, everything exhilarates you. You never behave like this with other customers. There was something about Tom, some magnetic force that keeps pulling you to him, from the moment you first saw him.

You can’t decide if it is his smile, his hands, his chest or the way his fingers kept holding and playing with the cigar, drawing all of your attention to them. Or maybe it’s about his innocent eyes and the fact that they are so contrary to his wicked smirk and sinful words coming out of those pretty pink lips.

You are in trouble, you can tell right away, but you love it.

“Can you do one thing for me?” he asks, finally breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Of course.”

“Can you do one of those splits like you did on the stage?” He asks so innocently, yet so demanding.

“Yes,” you say and you spread your legs wide, sitting on the edge of the improvised dance floor waiting for his next move. He takes one big gulp of his whiskey, a little drop coming down on his chin and dripping on his bare chest. He doesn’t even bother to wipe it off, just licks the excess from his lips with his wide, pink, skilled tongue. You can't stop looking at that wet spot on his chest, traveling down to the unbuttoned area of his chest. At one point you even feel a bit jealous of that drop, since it can explore his body the way you never could.

“Show me.” Tom doesn’t have to tell you what he wants to see. It feels like you can read his body language perfectly. You do what you’re told. You grab your panties and pull them slightly to the side, exposing yourself completely in front of him. It’s surprising, even to you how wet you actually are. This never happens to you, so you can’t help but smile to yourself. As you move your panties to the side, you lightly brush your clit with your fingertips and your legs twitch. You let out a soft moan but quickly manage to keep your cool.

You are dying for him to touch you, to do anything to you, but you know damn well it’sagainst the rules. You can’t even bring him home after work, because that can put a bad reputation on the club and the last thing you want right now is to lose your job.

“You have no idea how much I want to taste you.” he mutters. The thought of him tasting you brings shivers to your spine.

“Unfortunately, if you do that I might call security.”

“And what if you don’t?” Tom answers almost mechanically, not even fully listening to you, his eyes completely lost in your pulsating cunt.

“See this little red dot on the ceiling,” you say and finally pull your panties back in their place, covering yourself. He looks up, “That’s a camera over there. So if you lay even one finger on me, the security will come bursting in here.”

“I think that is the last thing we both want, right pretty girl?”

“So you better behave yourself, Mr. Holland.” Tom raises his eyebrow the moment he hears his last name coming out of your lips. In that moment you realize that he never actually told you his full name. You felt your heart drumming a little bit faster in your chest. You’re wondering if you crossed any lines with your last sentence.

“Don’t you think that it’s quite unfair how you know my full name and yet I know nothing about you?” He teases, while adjusting and rolling up his sleeves a little bit. You feel an instant wave of relief mixed with joy.

“I can’t give you my name, but I can give you a lap dance instead.” You offer, daring him with your eyes to say yes.

“Only if you want to,” and you do. You can’t even begin to explain how much you want to grind on him, feel him under you, tease him, play with him and drive him crazy. You don’t tell him anything, you just stand up and start walking towards him.

You turn around and steadily start winding your hips and getting lower, until you can feel his thighs on your heat. The only thing you’re wearing right now is a tiny pink thong, which is more than revealing. He can see everything and you decide to use that in your advantage.

You keep switching your moves, swaying to the rhythm, leaning forward so that he could see your entire behind. Fortunately for you the room has mirrored walls so you can see his face for the entire time, even now, when you’re not facing him. He is leaning back on the bed, his eyes completely lost in your body, observing your every move. Whenever you lean forward and reveal more of your ass, you feel his thigh twitch and flex under you. And oh, does that feel good. You’re trying really hard to grind on his thigh and to do that subtly. You’re desperately trying to get some friction, some release and motion.

It’s undeniable that you’re turned on right now. You don’t even care that he can obviously tell that as well, since you can feel the wet traces you’re leaving on his thigh. The music is quietly murmuring through the speakers as you move your body perfectly in sync with the beat. Suddenly you feel something cold, a strange, sharp object running up and down your spine. At first you think it must be your nerves, but once you feel it again, you turn around to face him.

“You know I said no touching?”

“I am not touching you, gorgeous,” Tom says and he brings his hands forward, right above your thighs. He brings the back of his hands so close to both of your thighs but his skin is not touching yours. There isn’t any skin to skin contact, the only thing touching you are his large rings. And he runs his hands like that all over your inner thighs, the cold metal making your skin melt. You feel goosebumps as you watch his hands in awe. His fingers are long, bony with a few tiny veins popping on them. As he moves you manage to notice his bruised knuckles and those make his hands looking even more captivating.

“Are those for me?” He asks and you twitch a little, you didn’t expect him to talk, you got so lost in your thoughts about his fingers on you. Inside of you.

“Sorry, what?” You ask and finally turn your whole body, straddling him completely with just a few inches between your faces.

“The wet traces you left all over my thighs? Are those for me?”

“Yes,” you say as you watch a proud grim appearing on his face. It is too late to pull back now, even though you have no idea what he’ll do next.

He keeps his hands next to his body but you can see the way his biceps is tensing through his thin shirt. He wants to touch you just as much as you want him to do so.

“Also, about that question you have been dying to know the answer…” you say and notice the way he furrows his eyebrows while waiting for what you have to say next, “the answer is yes.”

His eyes are now completely lost on your lips. He swipes his tongue over his pink, chapped lips and leans in. Instinctively you lean forward as well. You feel his nose brushing over yours and you close your eyes, completely forgetting where you are and that you are in a club and that he is just a customer. You pull back a little once you’re aware of that and hear him whisper on your lips. “Wait here one second for me, okay?”

You nod and stand up so that he can move. He furiously storms out of the booth, not even turning back, and you have a sinking feeling in your stomach. Did you do something wrong? Nervously waiting for him or for anyone to come back, you start walking from one corner of the room to the other.

After what feels like forever, you grab your bra and start to untangle the little jewels and beads. Maybe you’re a fool for trusting him and revealing way too much, but you decide to get dressed and look for him. Just as you finally untangle the last bead, you can hear someone walking inside the booth.

“Hey, I was just about to…” and you can’t even finish your sentence, as he interrupts you with his lips. Crashing them into yours, finally.

You never experienced a first kiss like this. He isn’t going slow or taking his time. He presses his lips hard on yours, not wasting any second now. Almost instantly he flicks his tongue over your lips and you part them, letting him in. The moment his tongue touches yours you can taste the alcohol mixed with mint. His tongue feels soft and warm as it eagerly glides over yours.

You’re so focused on his tongue and his lips that you haven’t even noticed that his hands are now all over your exposed back. His hands are cold, almost as cold as those rings felt on your skin. It’s such a sharp contrast between his warm tongue and his cold hands. As they trail down to your ass and squeeze it lightly you moan into his mouth. It’s almost like the sound of that moan was your call back to sanity and you pull away from him immediately.

“We can’t, I might lose my job, the owner will be so mad at me,” you blurt this all out while trying to catch your breath.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Tom says and you blink at him, still not fully understanding what he’s trying to tell you. You open your mouth, trying to come up with the next question and he gives you the answer before you can even ask him. “You work for me now, I just bought the club.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you that. You smile at first, thinking that he must be joking but the more you stare at his dead serious face the more you are convinced that he actually did buy the entire club because of you. Just for you.

“Fuck…” is the only thing you can say before you crash your lips onto his now. You can finally touch him and you do that carefully, dragging your palms over his jawline and delicately placing your fingers onto his soft hair. His hair feels so soft under your touch, almost as soft as his tongue. You still cannot believe that you’re kissing the hot guy who you were eye-fucking with just an hour ago, so you open your eyes just to make sure that this is all real. And it’s almost like he felt what you did, so he opens his eyes, too. You smile at this and break the kiss.

“What?” Tom asks, stealing a little peck while he waits for your answer.

“Nothing,” you smile, running your hands up and down his while he is holding you by your waist.

“You want this, right?”

“Yes,” you put your lips on his and moan into his mouth and bite his bottom lip. As you start kissing him again, your hands travel down to his shirt. Without breaking the kiss your fingers start working quickly to remove his shirt. Once he’s out of his shirt you can see the way his chiseled abs are moving up and down as he is breathing. You trace your finger over his chest all the way down to his abs and he leaves a small moan into your mouth.

As he breaks the kiss, he throws his shirt on the floor and starts sucking on your neck, leaving cold wet traces underneath your ear. He has no problems finding your sweet spot and sucking on it even harder. There will most definitely be a mark, but at this point, you don’t even care.

Your hands move to his zipper, but he stops you.

“Turn around, take off your panties and bend over while you’re doing it.” He tells you sternly, and you just nod in response.

You turn around and grab the waistband of your panties and start pulling them down slowly, revealing more and more of you. They’re soaked with your wetness, and as cold air hits you down there you start clenching at nothing. You take one look at Tom and throw your panties at him. You want to catch him off guard, but he somehow manages to catch them. He doesn’t even look at them, just quickly puts them in his pocket.

“I want you to touch yourself, just like you would later while thinking about me.”

“And what makes you think I’d do that?” You turn around to face him and chuckle.

“I saw the way you were looking at me while you were dancing over there, princess. Also, I have this as proof,” and he points to his pocket, where he put your panties.

You spread your legs and lay on the dance floor. Taking your time, you move one of your hands slowly over your breasts. You try to maintain eye contact with him while running your fingers up and down your stomach. Almost involuntarily you start clenching and you can feel your belly tensing under your fingers. Tom looks so hot, sitting down, taking one more sip of whiskey, shirtless, the only thing he has on his upper body being his silver chain. You were naked in front of him for the majority of this evening and yet he is once again too lost in you. If you thought you had him wrapped around your fingers while you were dancing, you were wrong. Now it almost feels like you’re hypnotizing him with his movements. You can swear he even stopped breathing, waiting for you to finally start touching yourself down there.

You take a lot of time to finally get your fingertips where he wants them. You can’t help but look over at his chest, his glowy skin as you’re running your fingers over your own. Still, you’re not touching yourself, you’re just running fingers over your folds, slightly spreading them so he can have the better view of you entirely. You’re so turned on that even this slight movement gets your fingers moist.

“Rub your perfect clit for me, princess,” he says, now propped up on his elbows, eyes dark and focused.

Slowly, you start rubbing small circles over your swollen bud. From the moment you touch your over sensitive clit you start moaning. There is no way you can stand propped on your elbow now, so you lay back down and break eye contact with him for the first time that night. Yet, now you can focus more on his voice and his silent moans, mixed with your louder ones.

You don’t want to go too fast, because then all of this will be over too soon. You tease your entrance with your index finger, just a little bit to collect your wetness and spread it over your clit, making your movements even easier. This feels so good and you don’t want to stop. You can’t slow down now, you’re too close to the edge.

“Slower, I don’t want you to cum like this.” You lift your head up to look at him. He is palming his cock through his tight pants, clearly very impatient and yet he decides to tease and torture both of you.

And you run your fingers over your clit gently and slowly. Yes, this feels good but you want his hands instead of yours. Those slim, lean and bony fingers, you want them on you, rubbing and fucking you.

It is so hard to keep yourself calm and away from cuming. If you open your eyes you’ll see him, shirtless, with the exasperated look on his face and his chest flexing with every small breath he takes. If you close your eyes, you’ll imagine his fingers, those rings and bruised knuckles buried deep inside of you, rubbing you instead of your own.

“Put two fingers inside,” and you do as he tells you. Your fingers go inside with such ease. As you start moving them inside, the sound of wetness echoes the room. Almost instantly, your hips start bulking up, trying to squeeze your fingers even deeper. You’re hitting just the right spot and start shaking, your movements becoming sloppier and faster.

“Are you close?” he asks.

“Fuck...yes.” You can barely answer, your words mixed with moans.

“Then stop.” It takes you a lot of willpower to stop, now that you’re so close to reaching that high. But you listen to him. You are so sensitive and close to your orgasm that it takes you a few seconds to calm down and stop shaking. Eventually, you get up on your elbows, with your legs still spread and hanging down from the edge of the dance floor.

After what seems like a century, he finally stands up and comes closer to you. Tom is smiling and bringing the glass with what’s left of his whiskey in his hand. You watch his every move and breathe fast, still trying to calm yourself down from that previous edge. He walks towards you and comes near the edge of the dance floor, between your legs.

“Open your mouth,” he asks, now standing above you. You look up at Tom and do what he tells you. You watch him as he brings his glass over your mouth and starts pouring some whiskey down on you. It tastes so bitter and warm since the ice already melted a long time ago. As much as you try to catch the most of the strong beverage with your tongue, a few drops start leaking down your chin all the way to your breasts. You gulp it down, wincing as it burns on your tongue and down your throat. He chuckles at your reaction and slowly pushes you down on your back again.

Tom puts the glass next to you and starts kissing down your neck until he reaches your niple, covered with whiskey. He sucks on it, licking it clean. It feels so good, the way his warm tongue traces over your nipples. You’re squirming and moaning under his mouth and nothing but a few “oh my gods” and moans escapes your lips. Tom’s skilled fingers are playing with your other nipple while he is still licking your other one, making sure to lick all of the whiskey off of it.

He takes his time on your nipples. As much as you enjoy him there, you’re burning with desire and want him to help you ease some of the tension that has been building ever since you first laid your eyes on him. Your blood pulsates in every direction, leaving you dizzy, heart beating, breathing heavy and melting under his tongue, teeth and lips on your nipples.

Finally, it feels like Tom decided to end this sweet torture and starts moving lower and lower on you. Without any intention you start buckling your hips when you feel his warm lips glading over your belly.

“Someone’s impatient,” Tom smiles and lifts his head up. He leaves one peck on your pubic bone and completely ignores that area. That sweet place that is yearning for him so much. Instead of kissing, licking or doing anything to your swollen bud, he moves to your inner thighs. Tom leaves plenty of kisses on them, biting and marking your skin, making you his. He is breathing heavily, but his breathing can’t even match yours. Your fingers are now entangled in his curls, guiding him as he keeps sucking on your thighs. He starts moving lower and lower until your hands can’t no longer reach him.

Once you open your eyes, you prop yourself on your elbows. You watch him leaving open mouth kisses on your inner thighs and once he reaches your lacy garter he puts it between his teeth. Slowly, he begins pulling it all the way down your leg, his hot breath making your skin shiver.

“Aren’t we supposed to be married first?” you ask him once he has you undressed completely. Tom chuckles and brings himself near to your face.

“Don’t you know that I always try to bend the rules?” you moan into his lips and he kisses you. “But, if a lady insists, I can give you one of this,” he lifts his hand up and puts it between the two of you. “I saw the way you were looking at them, you can have one.”

After giving him an ‘are you sure’ look you decide to take it. And since you’re propped on your elbows, the only way you can take the ring for yourself is if you do it with your mouth. Which is exactly what you do. You open your mouth and put his entire index finger inside while not breaking eye contact with him. You look up at Tom, with the most innocent look you could muster. He is not saying anything to you. The only thing he can do is mouth an inaudible ‘oh’ while shaking his head in disbelief.

You wrap your lips around the base of his finger tight until you hook the cold metal ring between them. His fingers are so long, they almost make you gag. You close your eyes while you suck on his finger, pulling out the ring, sliding it over each of his knuckles. You can’t help but imagine that instead of his finger you’re sucking something else. Something bigger. You start moaning and sucking a bit harder. With a wet plop you pull the ring out and open your mouth. You put your tongue out, showing your conquest to him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Tom says while he watches you hold the ring between both rows of your teeth and lift a hand towards your face. You study his ravenous face while you push each of your fingers through the loop, testing them out and looking for the one that perfectly fits

Finally, he kneels until his face is at the same level as your core. You spread your legs a bit more to give him easier access to your warm core. He licks one long strap, from your clit all the way down your entrance. You can feel him smirking once he feels how wet he got you and he hasn’t even touched you down there yet.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” the vibrations as he talks that close to your clit make you shiver. Tom starts moving his tongue against your clit, flicking it so slowly and lightly, but you are already so worked up, you start jerking your hips almost immediately. He takes his time, licking long straps at first, not putting any pressure on your bud.

Both of you moan as he starts lapping your clit with his tongue, slowly and steadily. Being too sensitive from the previous edge, you can barely hold yourself up on your elbows. He keeps licking your inner lips and occasionally slipping his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth. He seems to know what he’s doing, teasing you even more like this. As soon as you start buckling your hips up, he moves his tongue from your pulsating clit to your entrance. Your moans keep getting louder every time he comes back and once again focuses on your clit.

“Will you please let me cum?” Your voice trembles with anticipation.

“Since you’re asking that nicely,” Tom smiles and kisses your lower back before going back to your heat. You’re still not used to how much his face softens when he smiles. But it’s the dark spark in his eyes that turns you on and makes your heart race even faster. It feels like he’s unravelling you with his tongue.

He flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times, before beginning to suck on it. As he does that, you roll your eyes and start breathing even harder. And it’s almost like he knows exactly what to do to you and where to pay more attention. He tries to hold you in place with one of his hands, while keeping your legs apart with others.

You can feel your heat building in the base of your stomach, pulsating. Warmth moves all over your body, coursing through your bloodstream. Tom starts sucking harsher on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His face looks like a wet mess right now, spit and your wetness leaking down on his chin.

“Please don’t stop doing that,” is the only thing you can say before you start falling apart under his mouth. Your hips ride the way his tongue flicks over your clit. You grab his hair with both of your hands and glide over his wet tongue, stimulating your oversensitive pussy, moaning and heavy breathing. It almost feels like a dream, this intensity of the pleasure that came over your body. Tom has to hold your stomach, just to keep you in place so you won’t ruin not even one second of this ecstasy.

Tom helps you ride your orgasm to it’s last drop by keeping his strong, muscly tongue in place, letting you control the rhythm and ride it the way it works best for you. Curses and his name are the only things coming out of your mouth as you come down from your high. Finally, his lips leave your sweetest place and he starts kissing your stomach, nipples, all the way up to your neck. Once he reaches your lips he kisses you hard, teasing you and opening them with his tongue. Instead of kissing you back, he pulls away and whispers over your lips.

“Now get on all fours,” and you do as you're told, with your face down and ass up in the air, facing him. Even though you have your back turned on him, you can still see him if you look at any of the mirrors around you.

He runs his hands over your butt cheeks and playfully smacks your right cheek.

“Is this okay for you?” you nod.

“Can I go a bit harder?” Tom asks while looking at you through the mirror. You nod once again. “I need your words for this, love.”

“Yes.” And as soon as you say that you feel a slight tingling on your cheek as he has finally smacked you. Not too rough, but hard enough for you to quiver. Unexpectedly, this turns you on a lot more than you ever imagined.

“Should I stop, was this too hard?” he asks, with a genuine worry in his voice, soothing the skin where he slapped you.

“Please don’t,” you moan and feel his hand on your cheek again, slightly harder this time. It tingles, the warmth spreading from your cheek all over your lower back. He soothes your skin one more time with his fingertips. So delicately and gently. And it’s almost like those few slaps heightened your already sensitive skin and you can now feel his every movement. As he caresses your cheeks, his fingers tenderly nudge your wet entrance.

You expect his next move, already prepared for the burning sensation but you don’t feel his hands on your ass anymore, “You sure about this?”, he asks and you look up at him in the mirror and see Tom holding a condom in his hands.

“Yes,” you moan and in that exact second you can hear him ripping the condom and positioning himself from behind. You instinctively spread your legs for him, waiting for him to enter you. Tom places one of his hands on your waist, digging his fingertips into your skin. He is moving his dick over your folds, getting him nice and wet before sliding it into you. With every little move that he makes you can feel your belly and thighs clenching.

Only a few more strokes after and Tom gently starts stretching you out with his member. It takes a few seconds for you to get used to his girth and with a loud gasp you let him know that he can start moving now. And once he starts moving it feels so good, so exciting and pleasurable. It feels so fulfilling to finally feel him inside.

Tom takes no time before he is already balls deep inside of you. With every thrust he leaves a deep groan filled with pleasure. One of his hands is still on your hips and you can feel him slightly pushing you upwards, all the way up to his chest, still not pulling out of you. The first thing you feel once your back hits his perfectly toned chest is the way his cold chain is bouncing, caressing and sliding over your warm skin. It is almost embarrassing how turned on you are by him and everything he does. So much that even the way he wears his chain makes you so aroused.

“I want you to watch how beautiful you look while I’m so deep inside of you,” Tom whispers into your ear and as much as you enjoy having your eyes closed, you manage to open them up and see his hand wrapped around your breasts while the other one is trailing down your stomach, his lengthy fingers reaching for your clit.

Thanks to the way the mirrors are hung on every wall in the booth, you can see his movements from every angle. The way every single one of his muscles is flexing, his hips swaying once he is bottoming in and out of you. Once his fingers reach down your pulsating core and starts rubbing the pleasure becomes almost unbearable to you. You reach for his hands to get more stability and start trembling in front of him. The only thing you can see right now is the smug on his face as his merciless fingers and thrusts are making you cum so hard on him. With the loud moan you reach your high and ride it, his fingers finally slowing down but never completely stopping.

“Fuck, gorgeous, you look like an angel,” Tom says and starts leaving warm and wet kisses on your neck and ear, still holding you tight. After a few long and slow thrusts he picks up his rhythm again, that ruthless and fast rhythm that gets you on the edge of another orgasm in no time. After a few thrusts he starts rubbing your clit once again, pressing that lovely spot of pleasure both from the inside and outside.

The wave of pleasure comes even faster now, leaving you no time to adjust or open your eyes and focus on him. His hot breath is all over your shoulder and once you hear his voice, moaning into your ear you can’t help but let go, moaning and thrusting towards his arm this time even harder.

“Tom, please don’t stop,” you moan a desperate cry for more, for another release, another round of pleasure. He picks up his pace and you can feel your legs trembling involuntarily next to his. The familiar surge of another orgasm makes your moans and breathing erratic. Once it finally hits you, you leave a high pitched cry and Tom pushes you down, stopping his movements, just holding you in place.

“Fuck baby, if I start moving now, I’ll cum as well,” he is not thrusting, the only movement you can now feel is his dickf throbbing while still deep inside of you. You open your eyes and look at him in the mirror. Your eyes instantly lock with his. You can see the way he smiles at you while there are a few drops of sweat traveling between his chest.

“Cum in my mouth,” as much as you want to keep him inside of you, you also want to taste him. He pulls out of you and you immediately feel so empty while cool air brushes over your folds. Tom stands up and removes his condom while you turn around and starts licking his shaft up and down. You start sucking on it, taking it in as much as you can. Tom puts his hands on your head, but he is not forcing you towards him. He is removing the strands from your pink wig off of your face.

You open your eyes and look up at his face, his eyes shut down and curse words coming out of his pretty pink lips. As you look in the mirror behind him, you can see the way his ass cheeks are tensing, gently fucking your mouth. That sight excites you so much. If you thought you were done after your third orgasm, you were wrong, cause you can feel the familiar pulsating feeling deep down inside of you. You reach down and start lightly pressing on your clit, not going too fast cause you don’t want to lose focus and mess with the way you’re pleasuring him.

“I’m cumming,” Tom says as warm, sharp and salty liquid fills your mouth. You keep moving your head up and down, guiding him through his pleasure. Not stopping until he backs away, trembling from pleasure. Your mouth suddenly feels so empty, even though there are still traces of him there. You tried to gulp it all down, but the thickness and saltines of his cum and the way he pulled out of your mouth so abruptly makes you spit a few drops on your chin and chest.

"Sorry…" Tom breathes out as he tries to calm down from his orgasm.

"No, no, it's okay…" your fingers travel down your chest to pick up a few drops of cum sliding down. Your other hand is still down there, pressing your clit and drawing out the heat you felt just a few moments while you were sucking him off.

"Wait, I'll help," Tom kneels down in front of you and picks up the traces of him from your chest. He looks around, "I need to find a tissue to wipe my fingers off," but you grab him by the hand and guide it towards your mouth. You start licking his fingers clean and his face quickly turns from surprised to turned on. He makes sure you lick them all, pushing them deeper and deeper into your mouth, until a few tears form in your eyes. It is only then that he finally notices that you've been teasing and dragging your fingers over your entrance the entire time.

"I fucked you so hard and you still want more, princess? You are insatiable." He quickly pulls his hand out of your mouth and you release a disappointed grunt. But it doesn't last long, because he slides two of his already wet fingers into your pussy.

"Yes…" you moan as he starts picking up the pace. But Tom doesn't go fast this time. He keeps teasing you, pushing his fingers slowly, so deep inside of you and then pulling them in to rub your clit for a few glorious seconds. He repeats this motion way too many times for you to keep up. It’s almost like you’re floating.

You are overstimulated, all of your senses focus on the pleasure he keeps giving you with his fingers. It isn't until he speeds up and starts fingering you that you finally start letting go and giving up to him completely. Tom tries to keep you in place, but your legs are trembling and you are not sure how much longer it'll be for your knees to give up.

"Is this okay?" Tom asks as you feel his long fingers gently wrapping around your neck. You nod and moan, not being able to produce any coherent word. Not quite sure is it his delightful movements on your g-spot, his voice or the way his other hand keeps pressing on the sweet spot on your neck, but in almost no time you can feel the oh-so-familiar feeling finally building up enough to explode.

It’s like you’re in slow motion, the only thing you can feel are his fingers pressing the right spot at the right speed. A loud low growl escapes your lips as you ride the most joyous orgasm you ever felt. Wetness is dripping out of you, all over the floor and him. He kisses you breathlessly, like he never wants to let go of you. You're sure he can still taste himself on your lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. Tom looks so hungry for you, cupping your face with that same hand that was on your neck just a few moments ago. Once he stops, he mumbles a little "fuck", his forehead resting on yours.

"Let me help you clean up," you can barely speak, your voice still shaking.

"Of course not, darling, wait for me 'till I get you some towels," Tom hands you your panties from his pocket once he finally pulls his pants up. He doesn't even bother to properly button up his shirt, he just throws it over his shoulders, having his toned chest and that silver chain on display. You can't help but smile once you're on your own. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, but you're more than excited to try it out.

Once he gets back, he immediately starts cleaning your wetness from your thighs, going thoroughly over your skin.

"It's Y/N by the way."

"It feels like we’re doing this backwards, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N." Tom lifts his head up and gives you a disarming smile.

"I figured, since you're my boss now, it's only fair that you'd know my name, y'know, to sign my paychecks and stuff like that…" you can feel the butterflies forming in your belly and there was no turning back now.

"I know they say that the boss shouldn't have any favorites, but I think I already have one."

"I just hope you won't change your mind once you meet the others," you lift your head up and your bliss gets interrupted once you see one little dot blinking. The red light you completely forgot about. That's when you feel a sudden change in your heartbeat. "Tom, there is a camera up there!"

"So..? I mean is that a problem?"

"Well, if there was anyone in the back office, they could've seen us!"

"I'm sure we gave them one hell of a show," you can't help but feel relieved. The way he handles things that could be a problem somehow makes you feel more attracted to him. You smirk and he starts leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs, "speaking of, wanna give them another one?"

"Right now?" You laugh and playfully mess with his curls, completely ruining his hair. Tom lifts himself up and comes near to your face. He leaves a few pecks on your lips. You part your lips and deepen the kiss. His kisses are different now. Less needy. Slower, deeper. Meaningful.

Once he parts his lips from yours, he says "Right now."

"Well, look who is insatiable now," you say and grab his silver chain, pulling him back to you and kissing him once again. Seems like it’s going to be one long night.

♡♡♡

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

Taglist: @thefallenbibliophilequote @beverlyparkerr @ladykxxx08 @devotion @dvhling @svturtles @mlmarint @lovelytholland @nehirsu @veryholland @hollandcrush

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland fandom #mcufam #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #mob!tom #red light

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Unexpected - Part 3

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: The final chapter. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ever since his hasty departure from your study, Caspian had not exactly avoided you but had taken to just popping his head round the door and wishing you a cheerful good day before disappearing again. You had smiled to yourself. It certainly did seem that you had some kind of an effect on the King. You weren’t absolutely sure what that was, but it appeared to be a positive one.

You were excitedly planning an outfit for that evening as a banquet was being held to celebrate Cornelius’ birthday. No-one had mentioned how old he actually was and you weren’t sure if that was because they didn’t know or if they were just being tactful. You’d bought him three new quills as his gift, which he’d accepted gratefully as he was always snapping the tips off his.

Later that afternoon, there was a brief knock and Caspian’s smiling face appeared round your door. “You are coming to the birthday banquet tonight, aren’t you, my lady?” You nodded, “I am, Caspian.” “Well… I’ll see you there,” he grinned, and then he was gone.

Smiling, you went back to mentally reviewing the dresses in your wardrobe. Tonight you’d make sure you looked your very best for Caspian.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Meanwhile Caspian walked off down the corridor, deep in thought. He was sure that she’d noticed that he was keeping a physical distance between them the past few days, but it was the only way he could think of to avoid making a complete fool of himself. Again. Like he had the last time. His face burned every time he thought about it. She’d known why he’d rushed off, he was sure of it.

He would have to dance with her tonight. It would look strange if he didn’t, and he felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. How on earth was he going to keep himself under control? He would just have to figure out a way… somehow.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Eventually, after several changes, you’d chosen a deep ruby red velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline, your hair was artfully pinned up and you had added a sparkling necklace and earrings.

The music played, the tables were laden with food and drink and Cornelius was thoroughly enjoying himself as the centre of attention. The courtiers whirled around the room in spirited waltzes and you watched as Caspian danced with girl after girl after girl. Everyone apart from you, in fact. You had a sick sinking feeling in your stomach - it looked like you’d got it all wrong, he obviously didn’t have any feelings for you at all. You blinked fiercely as you felt your eyes fill up. Well, your mother always said pride comes before a fall, and you supposed that you’d been prideful in thinking that he felt something special for you.

Taking a large drink of your wine, you considered leaving the banquet. What use was there in staying? Just to watch Caspian dancing with all the other women, while you - a sorrowful heap of jealousy - sat in the corner by yourself? No, that was not going to be you, you thought.

Standing, you smoothed your dress and started to move out from behind the table, only for Cornelius to lightly grip your wrist. “You’re surely not going already?” he questioned you. You nodded, “Yes, my lord. I.. I have a headache and should retire to my chamber, I think.” He did not let go of you, “Oh, my lady, can’t I persuade you to stay just a little longer? It is my birthday after all!” he smiled mischievously at you. Oh, he had to make you feel guilty, didn’t he? You sighed, “Very well, my lord, just for a very short time though.” He refilled your wine cup, “Have some more wine,” he encouraged you, “I’ve heard it’s very efficacious in treating headaches!”

Laughing, you sat down and took the goblet from him. “Indeed? I confess I haven’t heard that said of wine, my lord.” Nodding vigorously, he replied, “Oh, yes - I am sure I read that recently somewhere - in a medical book or suchlike.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching you, one of the Kingsguard. Before you turned to look fully at him, you saw a look of annoyance flit over Cornelius’ face, before his usual small smile returned.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance, my lady?” asked the handsome soldier, whose name you didn’t know. You nodded and stood, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. The orchestra finished playing the previous waltz, and prepared to play the next one.

Caspian’s dark eyes met yours as he straightened up from bowing to his partner. Something flashed in them and you looked away, up at your own partner. Wasn’t he happy to see you dancing with someone? Well, that was a shame, you thought - he can just have a taste of his own medicine! The music began and you and the soldier began to dance, thankfully neither of you treading on each other’s toes. You saw that Caspian was dancing with yet another lady. Hmmm, not so bothered then, you thought somewhat bitterly.

Throughout the dance, however, any time you looked towards Caspian his eyes were on you. Continuing to look away, you’d wait a few moments and look again. Yes - still looking. Now you were confused, if he didn’t care, why was he staring? Maybe it was just a ‘big brother’ kind of thing. The dance came to an end and you and your partner bowed to each other, and as you stood straight again you realised with a start that Caspian was standing slightly to the right of your soldier, gazing at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s heart had jolted in his chest when he saw her take the floor with one of his Kingsguard. Jealousy raged through his veins. She was only supposed to dance with him! He continued staring over at them as the dance progressed, barely looking at his own new partner, and as soon as the dance finished he quickly bowed, mumbled a thank you and hurried over to her and the soldier.

The soldier bowed his head to his King and took himself off at speed. Caspian was still looking at her, and eventually she cleared her throat and said, “Good evening, your Majesty,” bowed her head slightly and also started to leave the dance floor. “No!” he exclaimed, and her eyes met his again, a confused look in them. “I mean… don’t go, I was about to ask you to dance.” She gave him a small smile, “And are you asking me, your Majesty?” Now it was his turn to look confused, “Why, yes… I am,” he replied and extended his hand towards her.

Taking it, she followed him to a more central area of the dance floor and as they reached it he swung around, pulling her close against him and drinking in her scent. He heard her give a small gasp and realised what he’d done - the waltz the orchestra was playing required a side by side promenade at arms’ length for a few steps before traditional waltzing then took over. Hastily, he released her and they performed their promenade steps, before he was able to take her into his arms once more.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he breathed next to her ear, “I was overwhelmed when I saw you arrive.” She laughed, not meeting his eyes, “Really, your Majesty? I didn’t think you were even aware I was here.” “What?” he said, totally confused, “Of course I knew you were here!” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes as they moved around the dance floor. “Well, it’s just that you were so busy with all your dance partners I didn’t think that you were, your Majesty.”

Caspian felt like a thunderbolt had hit him. Of course! What a damn fool he was. He’d been so busy trying to distract himself from mooning over her, that it hadn’t dawned on him what it might look like to her - that he was totally ignoring her. He’d noticed that she’d gone back to calling him ‘your Majesty’. He desperately thought of how he could explain this without giving himself away. “Oh… no, no… I’m, I’m always aware of… of where you are,” he said then winced as he realised how lame that sounded. “I thought I would save the last dance for you,” he added, hoping this would redeem him somewhat.

She finally looked at him, a slightly reproachful look in her eyes but she didn’t speak. “I’m so sorry if it looked like I was ignoring you,” he said in a rush, “I just didn’t want to seem too eager.” She laughed but he could tell there wasn’t a lot of humour in it, “Don’t worry, your Majesty, that definitely wasn’t the impression you gave.”

Caspian was panicking. How could he be so stupid? Now she was upset with him, and he only wanted her more than ever - she looked stunning in her ruby red gown. He held her even closer to him and decided to stop talking, maybe he could just show her how he felt by holding her close. He saw her eyes widen and realised that had been a mistake too. There was no doubt that she’d felt his rampant erection, even through the heavy fabric of her dress.

He made a sudden decision and danced her rapidly across the floor back to the table, hastily sitting down and tugging her into the seat next to him. He pulled his tunic down as far as he could over the bulge in his lap and leant forward slightly, embarrassed and running his hands over his face. “Are you alright, my King?” she questioned him. He looked sidelong at her, “I think you know exactly what’s wrong with me.” Then in an even quieter voice, “The same as in the orchard that time.”

He saw a blush start to rise over her face. So she did remember it.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh! you thought, your mind racing back to that encounter in the gathering dusk. You had thought about it frequently over the years with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. You knew you’d been quite forward in your curiosity, and often wondered if Caspian ever thought about it too. And now it seemed that he had. With a frisson of jealousy, you’d also wondered what other sexual experiences he’d had since.

“I… we said we’d never talk about that, Caspian.” While dancing and when he’d pulled you closer to him, you’d felt that hard length of his against your stomach and knew exactly what it meant. But now here he was, bringing up the subject himself.

“We said we’d never speak of it to other people,” he corrected you, gazing into your eyes, “but maybe we need to discuss it further between ourselves. Come, let us leave the banquet for a while so we can speak in private.” He stood up and held out his hand so you also stood, taking it and following him as he led you out of the banqueting hall, aware of the many envious glances from the other women as you left with the King.

They could think what they liked, you thought. They will know you were childhood friends, although you’d made a point of never telling that to any of them. Castle gossip will have ensured that they all knew about it in any case.

Caspian led you upstairs to one of the empty salons and outside onto the large balconied terrace which was attached to it. He knew his castle well, you thought. Due to its position in one of the towers it wasn’t overlooked by any other window or balcony, and the size of the large terrace prevented anyone from seeing anything if they looked up from the grounds.

He came to a halt and turned towards you, his eyes blazing with something - you weren’t sure what - as he looked into yours, “I…I want,” he faltered, “I need…!”

You opened your mouth to ask him what he wanted and needed but before you could speak, he pushed you up against the terrace wall, you felt his mouth on yours and he was kissing you passionately. You realised he was also raising your dress and felt the fabric creep past your knee and then halfway up your leg.

Looking down you saw that Caspian had unlaced his breeches, just as you felt his fingers brush past your undergarments. Because unlike last time, it was he who had hold of his manhood and before you fully realised what he was doing, he’d slid his erection inside you and continued to push until he was fully sheathed. You were gasping and his dark brown eyes looked more like deepest black as he stared into yours, before he lowered his head onto your shoulder, groaning and whispering your name.

“Caspian!” you eventually managed to breathe, “what are you doing?!”

“What you wanted me to do that night in the orchard,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian gripped her hips through the dress fabric and began to thrust up into her. She’d wanted him to do this to her those few years ago, right? She’d told him he was a coward because he’d pulled out. So now he was only taking what he could’ve had under the pear trees that evening, wasn’t he?

He heard her voice, through her gasps, “We were children, Caspian, who didn’t know any better. Now we do. What if you get me pregnant?” Caspian stopped thrusting, she needed to hear the truth.

“I don’t care! I’ve wanted you every second of every day since!” his voice broke, “Don’t you realise I’ve always been in love with you?!” He leaned his head back slightly and looked into her eyes, “Tell me you don’t want me to do this and I’ll stop.” She hesitated and he immediately began thrusting again, kissing her and pulling her closer to him. Eventually he felt her fists pummelling his chest, “Caspian! Please! I can’t get pregnant.”

He stopped with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead on hers for a moment before straightening up and pulling out of her. Taking his dick in his hand he turned away from her, frantically rubbing and squeezing his length before finishing quickly, bending over slightly and catching his seed in the palm of his other hand.

Turning back towards her, he found he was looking at empty space. She was gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You ran as fast as your fancy dancing shoes would let you to your chamber. Throwing yourself headlong onto your bed and beginning to sob, you wondered how on earth you’d got yourself into this stupid situation. Because you teased him! your brain yelled back at you, it’s all your fault and you know it! Caspian is such a polite, shy, well-behaved boy and look what you made him do!

Eventually your tears stopped flowing and you wearily got up from the bed, struggling a little to unlace your dress at the back but eventually managing it. You’d had to learn how to do that as you didn’t have a lady’s maid, unlike at home. Having washed your face, taken down your hair and changed into your nightdress, you had just lain back down in bed and pulled the quilt over your head when you heard a single knock at your door.

You knew it was Caspian, that one knock had been a special signal between the two of you since you were children. Knowing in your heart that you shouldn’t answer it, you nevertheless got up and opened the door.

It looked as if Caspian had also been crying, his dark eyes were as wide as saucers. “I need to explain.”

You nodded and stood back, allowing him to come into your chamber.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He locked the door behind him, he didn’t want any interruptions during the discussion he was about to have. She’d walked back to her bed and sat on the edge of it, looking down into her lap. He followed her over there, also perching on the bed next to her.

He drew in a deep breath then said in a low voice, “I’m truly sorry for what I did earlier.” He looked down, “You looked so beautiful but you danced with him, you were in his arms and I was so very jealous! I wanted you so much. But what I did was unforgivable.” He heard her exhale then she said, “I have to say, it’s not how I imagined losing my virginity, Caspian.” His head flew up, “But that… we… didn’t that happen when we…?” She shook her head, blushing, “No, not properly. You didn’t get far enough inside that time,” and looked up at him, “but you did this time.”

Now he felt himself blushing. “Oh! I always thought I lost my virginity to you that evening,” he said, “And you? That means you haven’t been with anyone else?” He held his breath and then she shook her head, her eyes downcast again. He felt an immense sense of relief, blowing out a big breath of air. There was a short silence and then he heard, “Caspian?” He looked over at her, “Yes?” “How many women have you been with since then?”

He leapt up off the bed, drawing himself up to his full height, “None!” he shouted, then as he saw her jump, lowered his voice, “I have been with no woman except you.” Suddenly he knelt in front of her, and he met her intent gaze, “I’ve never wanted anyone else apart from you.” He noticed her eyes welling up, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. He reached up and gently wiped them away, “Why are you crying, my darling?” he asked, “Doesn’t that please you?” She managed a feeble smile, “I’m crying because I am pleased to hear that, yes.”

Caspian’s brain hurt a little as he heard this; he wondered if he’d ever understand women. He decided the wisest course of action would be to remain silent and just smiled back at her, nodding as if he fully understood. She sniffled a little and then said more boldly, “Caspian, when you were… you know… earlier, you said you’d always been in love with me.”

His mind rapidly rewound to when he’d been trying to make love to her, had he said that?! He really didn’t recall - his mind had been on other things! - but as it was the truth in any case, he nodded. He took hold of her hand, “Yes, it’s the truth. I’ve loved you since I met you.” “But we were just children.” “It doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate, I’ve always known that. It was truly awful when I had to flee the castle as I knew I wouldn’t see you - maybe ever again - but I had no choice, and I just had to try and put you out of my mind until Narnia was safe.”

He got up and sat next to her on the bed again. “It was really difficult. Just recently, everything was starting to return to normal and I was about to try and find you, when you arrived here as Cornelius’ assistant. It seemed fated that we should be together. But you kept on saying how I was your dear friend and.. and my heart broke. I was sure that’s all you felt for me - friendship.”

She shook her head, “No, Caspian. I don’t think I realised it until I came to the castle and saw you again, but I think I’ve always loved you too.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s face had the hugest grin on it as you finished speaking. “Really? You love me?” You nodded, “Yes, I do.” Suddenly he was back down on one knee, “Then please - make me the happiest man in Narnia and marry me!” You must have looked like an idiot with your mouth forming a large O, but eventually you managed to say “Yes!” Then he had jumped up, pulling you off the bed and wrapping his arms around you, whirling you round while you squealed and he kissed you.

After the two of you had calmed down somewhat, he left to go back to his own chambers as even although you were now betrothed, it wouldn’t be seemly for him to spend the night with you, even if you just slept in the same bed. He promised that he would have a ring for you by the next day and while you’d assured him there was no rush, he’d insisted that he wanted a betrothal ring on your finger as soon as possible.

You lay awake most of the night, too excited to sleep. It seemed incredible but all of your most precious dreams had come true.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Cornelius had appeared in front of your desk as usual and throwing aside his usual decorous manner, had hugged you. “I am so pleased to hear your news!” he declared. “I’ve never seen Caspian so happy. He was bouncing around like an over-excited rabbit this morning,” he chuckled, taking your hand and squeezing it while you laughed at his description of Caspian’s reaction. “I know the two of you will be so happy together,” he continued, “Now! We must start planning the wedding!”

When Caspian came to your study later that afternoon, he led you out from behind your desk, went down on one knee and proposed to you once again. This time, he produced a small jewellery box from his tunic pocket and opened it, showing you a ring with a large pear-shaped diamond as the centrepiece. It was beautiful and as Caspian slipped it onto your finger, he whispered, “To always remind you of the pear trees in the orchard,” with a small mischievous grin at you.

“How did you get the ring so quickly?” you asked him, as you were amazed that he’d managed to find such a beautiful, perfect ring in the space of one morning. He’d winked at you, “I have my contacts, that’s all I’m going to say.” You never did find out for sure, but there was one diamond merchant in the town nearest to Cair Paravel who had similar gems and you thought it might be from there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One thing you did know for sure, the other ladies of the court’s eyes were out on stalks as they glimpsed your new ring when you joined them for dinner that evening. Every single one of them was praying you were going to tell them to whom you were now betrothed and eventually - when you had still said nothing and dinner was nearly over - one of them could keep quiet no longer.

“My lady… umm, I cannot help but notice your beautiful ring!” You dipped your head, “Why thank you, my lady,” you replied. She smirked at you, “But you are not willing to share the name of your betrothed with us?” You shook your head, a faux-regretful look on your face, “I cannot as yet, my lady. My betrothed has to be the one to announce it,” you went on, with a small shrug. Of course, this just meant that their curiosity ate them up even more.

But Caspian had advised you that he had to firstly tell the Grand Council, then your parents, the courtiers and the people of Narnia in that order - that was the accepted, traditional procedure and that was that. So you had to keep quiet, although in truth you were literally bursting to tell everyone!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When the news was finally announced, everyone showered congratulations onto you and Caspian. Although you did get the feeling that the other ladies of the court gave their best wishes through gritted teeth and with fake smiles. You knew that they were secretly devastated as you’d won the prize they had been trying to win, and you felt slightly sorry for them as you knew you’d have felt the same if Caspian had asked one of them to marry him.

In the meantime, Cornelius - much to your surprise - had indeed become almost your sole wedding planner, and very good at it he was too! He’d already arranged just about everything. In fact the only thing you had left to worry about choosing was your dress.

Caspian was getting nervous about the actual ceremony; he was worried he was going to forget his vows when he tried to say them to you. You had just told him, “Make them up! As long as you mean them, it doesn’t matter what you actually say.” He’d laughed, pulling you into his arms and kissing you hungrily, but then the two of you had to spring apart as two female courtiers appeared round the corner without warning. You’d all nodded to each other; they pretended they hadn’t seen you and Caspian kissing, and you two pretended you hadn’t been caught.

Until you were married this was frowned on in public, in what you considered to be one of various out-dated court traditions. You’d be shaking up some things once you were Queen, you smiled to yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian was super-excited on his wedding day. He was nervous, yes - but it was a good nervous. Apart from the fact that in a few moments he’d be joined together for all eternity to the woman of his dreams, tonight, their wedding night, they would finally - finally - be able to make love properly. He couldn’t wait.

Their first two attempts hadn’t exactly been stellar successes - and of course, they shouldn’t even have been trying the first time around! - but he just knew that it would be third time lucky. No guilty childish fumblings, no adult angry/jealous sex… it would be just the two of them, lying in amongst the crisp cotton sheets and deep quilts of their marital bed. No prying eyes, no interruptions, no rush - it would be just heavenly. He already felt a little thrill of arousal.

He heard the musicians begin to play the joyful wedding music and he turned to see his beautiful bride - in a gorgeous white dress and holding a bouquet of delicate white flowers - bathed in sunlight and standing in the entranceway. Would he ever feel as happy as this again, he wondered? He didn’t think he would.

She paused for a few seconds and then began to walk gracefully across the Great Hall towards him. Approaching him, through her veil she met his gaze and gave him a dazzling smile.

His smile in return was even brighter and totally blissful.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@paracosmenthusiast @jessevans

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#king caspian #king caspian x reader #king caspian fan fiction #king caspian fanfic #ben barnes #voyage of the dawn treader

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got You

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: An embarrassed Reader accepts a swimming lesson from Spencer Category: FLUFF / SMUT ending (will be specified before it splits) Warnings: Language, fluffy smut at the end Word Count: 5.5k

Full Request: “...For your 1k celebration, I was wondering if you could write a fic where Spencer teaches reader how to swim, and then smut happens? Congratulations for 1k btw 🥰!” — @jareauswifey

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: Fun fact: I don’t know how to swim either, so this was incredibly fun to write and I can’t wait for you guys to read it!

Also, the more I wrote this the more it became absolutely fluffy, but since there was a request for smut, I wrote it in as an extra ending. So the majority of this is still fluffy, and there’s a good, solid end for those who don’t/can’t read smut. But the smut is added at the end for those who want it. Totally up to you! I hope y’all really enjoy this one!!

***

"Wait, she dragged you into the pool?"

"She didn't... drag me, she pulled me in."

"Look, no matter how you say it, Pretty Boy, the fact of the matter is, you ended up making out with a movie star in her pool. I call that a win."

While everyone in the bullpen was laughing, you found yourself distanced from the conversation, definitely not thrilled about the idea of re-living the case you'd just worked. And you loved Garcia as much as the next person, but this was one of those times you wished she wasn't so adamantly curious about everyone's personal lives.

"Look, it's not even a big deal, okay, people... kiss each other in pools all the time," Reid got out quickly, also not very thrilled about this conversation. "I mean, you've all done it, right?"

Garcia, Morgan, Elle, and JJ all recounted quickly a few times they'd experienced it, and you were hoping desperately that they wouldn't ask you, since you'd stayed quiet pretty much the whole time, immersing yourself in paperwork (or so you made them believe; you were really just trying not to think about how sad this whole situation made you).

But, of course, it was not your week.

"What about you, Y/N?" Garcia asked. You looked up to see all of your friends looking at you expectantly, and you felt like you could have cried right then and there.

"O—oh, um... I haven't... done that before."

You wanted to smack the smile off Morgan's face when he said, "Oh, so you're telling me Pretty Boy's got Pretty Girl beat in something for once?"

"That's... That's not true, he beats me at everything," you countered, already feeling your face get warm. "Look, it isn't a big deal. It's just not something I've ever done before, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Never said there was... Why are you getting so defensive?"

The teasing tone in his voice made everything worse, especially since he knew about your huge crush on Reid. He was the first one to point it out, and you swore him to secrecy. And now, he was threatening to expose you, and you wanted to tackle him, even though you were positive you wouldn't get very far.

"I'm not defensive! I just... I haven't kissed anyone in a pool before, and Reid's right, you guys are acting like it's a big deal when it isn't, that's all."

"Well, how come?" Morgan pressed.

"How come it's not a big deal?"

"No, how come you haven't done it?"

That settled it. You were going to deck him in the face the first chance you got.

"Because... I... I can't swim."

You'd said it so quietly, completely embarrassed over the fact, but everyone still was able to hear you.

"You can't?" Elle asked, obviously amused.

"No," you stated firmly, crossing your arms and huffing, a strand of your hair blowing away from your face as you did so. "Before you ask why, I just always had other things to do growing up, and I never bothered to learn. And there's nothing wrong with that either, by the way."

You refused to look at your friends as they took in all this information about you, and by this point you couldn't wait to go home. In fact, you were thinking about leaving right now, to save yourself from further embarrassment.

But then, of freaking course, Derek Morgan had to say something.

"Hey, maybe Reid could teach you how."

The second you were alone with him, he was dead meat.

Your face was even warmer now, and you wanted nothing more than to hide, maybe under the desk, though perhaps a hole in the ground in the middle of nowhere sounded more satisfying. Hell, anything sounded more satisfying than being here right now.

"Ha-ha," you laughed instead, trying to play it off like a joke-suggestion. "I'm sure Reid has better things to do with his time than teaching a woman in her twenties how to swim."

"Are you kidding me, Reid never has anything better to do with his time," Morgan countered, earning a few chuckles from the room.

You rolled your eyes and started to gather your things. You were going to decline and say goodnight, but before you could someone spoke up.

"I—if it's something you really wanted to learn, I could... I wouldn't mind teaching you the basics... or something."

As much as you didn't want to look at Reid in that moment, you did it anyway, because you had to make sure he was being serious. To make sure you'd heard that right.

"What?" you asked quietly.

"Well... You are always saying how we should hang out more. Maybe... it would be a good idea?"

You had said that. But that was before. You know, when you were starting to grow your confidence around him. When you were finally starting to grow the guts to ask him out on a date. Before he started kissing movie stars in pools...

Now all that confidence had been shattered, and you felt smaller than you'd ever been, embarrassed and incredibly babied at your inability to fucking swim.

All of this should have nudged you to say, "no". It should have saved you from making any rash decisions, but...

The way Reid was looking at you, so genuine in that kind way of his, you could have sworn he was begging you to say, "yes".

Or maybe that was your crush talking.

Whatever the case, it was that stupid crush that pushed all reason out of your brain and made you agree.

"O—okay. Why not?"

Your friends clapped, Reid smiled at you, and you could practically feel Morgan's burning Gotcha! look all the way from the other side of the room.

What were you getting yourself into?

***

You almost thought about bailing. There was no way you were going to survive this! Not only was it embarrassing enough that you couldn't swim, but now the guy you have the biggest crush on was going to teach you how? You were going to have to see him, wet, and he was going to have to see you in a swimsuit, and he was probably going to touch you, too.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

You were about to call Reid and tell him you weren't feeling well, but just as you got out your phone, he showed up in front of you, walking into the pool room at the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. Neither of you had a pool, and to avoid further embarrassment on your part, he offered to rent a room for the weekend so you could use the pool when no one else would be there. In theory it was a good idea, but in actuality it was an awful idea, because now not only did you have to take swimming lessons from your crush, but you were sharing a room with him for the weekend as well.

It was your worst nightmare.

"Hey! I—I got here a little earlier than planned, so I wasn't gonna wait here that long, and I... Never mind. I'm sorry. Hello." Great, now I'm rambling... Good start, Y/N...

Reid laughed a little, setting down a bag. "Hi, Y/N. Are you still sure you want to do this? I know... I kind of pushed it on you last minute, and—"

"No! I'm... It's probably something I should learn at some point anyway... Better get it done now while I can, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. So, uh... You want to get started?"

You turned to the pool, gesturing with your arms. "Lead the way, Genius."

He laughed a little and made his way to the water, and you took a deep breath as you followed behind, hoping you wouldn't make a bigger fool of yourself than you already had.

Reminding yourself to breathe and stay cool, you reluctantly and very slowly made your way into the water, staying close to the edges even though you were tall enough to stand with the water sitting safely at your chest. You'd been in pools before, but always just like this, at the edge. Your friends growing up were always supportive in your decision not to do anything more, even though they'd offered multiple times to teach you, but the truth was that you were quite afraid of being in deep water.

You were never going to tell them that, though. You weren't even sure you wanted to tell Spencer. But you supposed that if he was really going to teach you how to swim, you'd have to come clean.

Just... Not right now.

"Hmm... Okay, so I'm thinking for now I should teach you how to float."

Shit.

"Um... O—kay..."

He could tell you were nervous, it was obvious by the sympathetic way he looked at you and tilted his head. "I know it's probably intimidating because you don't know how to swim, but floating is actually pretty easy."

He then proceeded to lean back and float on his back. His head was tilted so he could still look at you, and he looked serene. Calm. And supportive, as he said, "There's nothing to it, all you have to do is lean back and just let your body relax. It might feel like you're starting to sink a little, but you won't."

"WhywouldyoutellmethatohmyGod," you squeaked, leaning out and holding very tightly to the edge of the pool. The panic you outwardly exuded was just about the most embarrassing thing you could have done, and it only made you feel worse, shutting your eyes tightly and regretting every life choice youd ever made.

Reid was suddenly beside you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you jumped, making him retreat. "Y/N, hey. Look at me."

You didn't want to. God, you wanted to do anything else. You would have rather floated in the water.

But you did it anyway, refusing to make things worse.

His face was just as soft as his touch, and even though you had nothing to worry about, you felt like you were going to cry.

"Are you... afraid of the water?" It wasn't mean or mocking. It was a genuine, concerned observation, and that somehow made it even worse.

"Y—yes," you choked out, feeling your throat start to tighten.

"Why did you agree to do this, then? I... I'm still more than happy to help you, but if you're afraid, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I won't make you..."

"I know that, I just... You were practically begging to teach me how to swim, and I didn't want to make you sad," you joked hoping it would lighten the mood and keep you from actually shedding any tears.

Thankfully he laughed, and it made you laugh right along with him, some of your troubles easing and the tightness in your throat letting up just a little. The two of you were silent for a few beats before you reached out with one hand and grabbed his, taking a deep breath and nodding.

"Okay. I'm ready to let you teach me how to float. I promise I won't... freak out this time."

He looked down at your hand on his for a second, something changing in his eyes before he looked back up. "Are you sure?"

No. "Yes."

"Okay... Do you... want to stay here by the edge?"

You scoffed. "Where else would we go?"

"Um... Never mind, we'll stay here. Just um... Come here?"

You laughed a little at the fact that he didn't get that you were joking, and then let go of the ledge with your other hand, pulling yourself towards him and letting him get closer. His hands gently held onto your arms as your feet planted themselves on the pool floor. The proximity was surprisingly calming, considering your outburst just a minute earlier, and you were thankful for that.

Despite all the mess, things weren't nearly as bad as you'd imagined they'd be.

"Okay," Spencer said, nodding slightly. "I'm going to float first. I want you to keep your hands pressed up under my back, okay?"

"But... don't you already know how to float? What do you need me for?"

"I'm demonstrating how light your body weight is while you're in water. See, when I go back like this..."

That was your cue. He leaned back just like he had before, and your hands moved, laying your palms out to lay under his back as instructed. You instantly understood what he meant, because he started to sink a little, and when you lifted him up, it was like he weighed nothing.

"So, even if you do start to sink, I'll be right there to keep you steady. You'll be just fine," he reassured, standing up again. You removed your hands and smiled at him, already feeling better about this.

"Okay. How do I... Go back? Do I just..."

"Oh, uh... Here," he offered, reaching out his arms. You walked into them, and instantly felt your heartbeat pick up when he wrapped them around you, the two of you closer than you'd ever been.

"I'm going to lay you on your back, okay? I've got you."

You nodded, unable to form any words. And when he leaned your body back into the water, you were suddenly aware of all he could see.

Warmth flooded through you as you looked up at him, his hands planting themselves firmly under your back. Your bare back. One of them was pressed against the tie on your upper back, and immediately your mind went there, imagining his fingers deftly untying the knot and letting your bathing top come undone. Your heart raced faster and faster, and it was becoming harder to relax.

"Y/N, it's okay," Spencer said, snapping you out of it. "I'm right here. I'm not going to let you go, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered. "I trust you."

"I'm gonna start letting you go, okay? Just relax your muscles, take nice, calm breaths, and let everything go. Just... float."

His words were soft and whispered, so light it was like in a past life they were dandelion seeds floating in the wind on a warm summer day. You closed your eyes and focused on that image, the white fluff floating in a field, and your body started to relax.

"That's it," you barely heard Spencer's voice as you drifted off. Everything was light, airy, and... non-existent.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually you realized that there was nothing holding you up anymore. Nothing was there to ground you, to keep you steady.

Your heart leapt out of your chest, and you gasped, flailing and you felt your face start to go under as a result. "No!" you screamed, suddenly panicked.

Almost as quickly as the panic set in, Spencer's arms were wrapped around you again, pulling you from under the water and into his body. Your arms instantly clung to his neck, trying to pull yourself up and away from the water, where it couldn't drown you.

"Y/N, hey, I've got you. It's okay, I'm right here. You're okay..."

"I'm done," you breathed, trying to calm yourself. "Can we be done?"

"Yes, we can be done," he said back softly, using one of his hands to stroke the wet hair from your face.

Despite your urgency to be done, however, you stayed like that, wrapped up in him for what felt like forever. His hand continued stroking your hair and his lips continued to whisper sweet words of encouragement and praise. Gradually your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and you almost forgot where you were again. At least until he spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

You lifted your head back to look into his eyes, managing to get out a quick, "Uh huh," even as your breath caught in your throat. The way he was looking at you with such concern and sweetness sent a course of butterflies through your stomach. They migrated out towards your chest, accompanying your heartbeat in a quick, thundering pace that only seemed to get faster when his hand grazed your cheek.

Against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed, and you savored the feeling of his hands on you. The one brushed down your cheek and over your neck and collarbone, while the other found purchase against your lower back, his thumb rubbing comforting circles just above the hemline of your swim bottoms.

You felt his forehead touch yours and audibly gasped, clinging tighter to his neck and refusing to open your eyes.

"I've got you," he said so softly you weren't even sure you heard it at all. "I've always got you. Can you plant your feet down?"

You were still close enough to the edge of the pool that you knew you could, but in all honesty you'd forgotten you were even there. The sheer panic that came with floating on your own made you feel like you were in the middle of the ocean, and if he hadn't told you otherwise, you would have believed it to be true.

"I can," you answered truthfully. "But I don't want to."

With your foreheads pressed together still, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, and it was sheer sparkling amusement you found swimming in his gaze as he spoke.

"Then don't."

You weren't sure who moved first. The next thing you knew, your lips were pressed together, and it was all you could take not to simply absorb into him. Which... of course, you practically did anyway. Because of the water, he lifted you to him with ease, giving you a better angle to cling to him since you'd done it so frantically before.

Your lips moved together without a care in the world, the two of you taking your time to just feel the moment. The tender, caring way in which he reciprocated and explored your kiss was almost as butterfly-inducing as all the simple looks he'd thrown your way and the gentle tone he always took with you.

It was almost as if he liked you back.

The thought made you pull away, breathless and dizzy, and the sheer look of contentment, followed by immense panic that set on Spencer's face brought you back to real life.

"I'm sorry," he rushed. "I... Y/N, I..."

Knowing you were already in too deep, you stopped him. "I like you."

He was silent. Frozen. And then, simply, "What?"

You sighed. "I... I like you. I have a crush on you. And I've had a crush on you pretty much from the moment we met. And I... I was trying to find the courage to tell you, and then the thing with Lila Archer happened and I wasn't even... like, she's so pretty, and she can swim, obviously, and I just felt like a total loser after that case, and so when you said you—"

Your words were cut off when he kissed you again, and you'd never been so surprised. Well, save for the panic you felt while floating in the water on your own just a few minutes ago, you supposed...

Though you were inclined to say this surprise was much better.

He pulled away after a few seconds, searching your eyes. "I like you, too," he said quietly.

"Y—You do?"

"Well, of course I do. You're... You're smart, and you're beautiful, a—and you're really good at swimming..."

You laughed. Hard. And Spencer laughed right along with you, until the two of you were just there, smiling at each other. And eventually, you ended up kissing each other again, just as you had before.

Only this time, your kisses got deeper. With every second, the two of you became more hungry, the low and soft moans coming from the bass of your throat urging him to become bolder.

Rather than holding you up by your back, he lowered his hands, gently over your butt and hooking under your thighs as your legs clung around his waist. Your arms still stayed around his neck, only now your fingers weaved through the hair at the nape of it, and when you tugged a little, he moaned into your mouth.

You didn't know how you got there, but all of a sudden, your back was pressed up against the edge of the pool, and you used that leverage to let go of his neck and let your hands roam freely, over his arms and down his chest.

But eventually the two of you had to come up for air, so you broke apart reluctantly, both panting and smiling like fools.

"So, is, uh... is this a hobby of yours?" you asked. "Making out with girls in pools?"

Spencer laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only recently, but... I think this time is the only one that really counts."

He nuzzled his nose against yours and you laughed, feeling completely warm all over and suddenly thankful for not being able to swim.

***NSFW ENDING BELOW***

Now it was just... weird. Maybe that wasn't the right word, but it definitely was a weird feeling.

You'd both showered separately, barely saying a word to each other in between that wasn't awkward mumbling... And now you were sleeping in separate beds, faced away from each other, and you were pretty sure that neither of you were actually awake.

It had been like that for hours.

You weren't positive of how he was feeling right now, but you were still on fire. His kisses had burned you in a way that still lingered, even after taking a warm shower to clean the chlorine from your body, and a small cold shower to refresh you and quell the heat you were feeling that was no doubt a product of him.

Because nothing ever seemed to work out in your favor, it obviously hadn't worked.

So there you were, trying and failing to sleep, hyperaware of Spencer sleeping(?) in the bed next to yours, pressing your fingers to your lips and hoping you could recover from this.

You... liked each other, though... You'd both admitted it, mutually agreed that the feelings were there on both sides, and you happily kissed one another. A lot.

So why was this feeling so weird? Why was everything awkward? Maybe it was just a byproduct of your awkwardness and his combining, rather than cancelling each other out and creating a perfect match. Maybe it wouldn't last, because you'd always heard that opposites attracted, and as far as you could tell, you and Spencer Reid were anything but opposite.

The thought made you curl into a ball, all the awkwardness you were feeling suddenly dissolving into a sorrow and worry that had never nagged you like this before. The burning your body had felt before seemed to cool, leaving you numb and hollow.

But then, a beam of light through the clouds.

"Y/N?"

"Y—yeah?" you said back, matching his near-whisper.

"I know we have our own beds, but... I... I was wondering i—if maybe you'd want... to sleep in mine? With me?"

Maybe it was pathetic and desperate, but you didn't answer. You got up from your bed—practically leapt— and met him in a few strides, getting in under the covers and laying down, facing him in the dark your eyes had adjusted to.

He was smiling, half triumphant and half amused at your eagerness. "Can't sleep either?"

"No," you said quietly, still searching what little of his eyes you could see. "I... Truthfully, I think I just missed being close to you."

"Me, too," he whispered, scooting closer.

His hands were tentative in touching you, but you gently gripped his wrist and guided it to your waist, where it firmly rested and brought warmth back into your veins. Even through the fabric of your tee shirt, his touch burned hot, and it was everything you needed.

But it wasn't everything you got.

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, and it burned just as hotly. It made you scoot even closer, until your chests were practically flush and your arms rested firmly around his neck again, making him smile. You felt it against your forehead, and that alone was enough to fully bring you back to life.

You wanted more. Just being close to him wasn't enough anymore. So you stretched a little and found your way to his neck, pressing soft kisses under his jaw. The grip on your waist tightened a little, and it urged you forward, strengthening your kisses and even encouraging you to get in a few licks and bites.

He stuttered your name, and you pulled back, looking at his face. But before you could say anything, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss that could only be described as pure desperation. You sighed against him and purely relented as he pulled you closer. Instinctively your leg lifted and wrapped around his, the tangle of limbs and lips becoming second nature in no time.

Before, when you were kissing in the pool, you were careful to avoid the teeth accidentally clanking together or the accidental tongue slip, afraid of ruining the sweet moment you were sharing, but all caution was thrown to the wind this time. You were both so desperate to be near one another that you welcomed every imperfection. In fact, it's like they weren't even imperfections at all.

At one point, you all but grinded your lower half into him, warmth flooding there, now, too.

And it seemed he was feeling the same...

You could tell he wanted to pull back, to explain himself, but you didn't care. You wanted it just as badly, so you did the only thing that felt natural and shifted, straddling his waist and deepening your kiss.

In no time, he gathered your hair in his hands, sweeping it away from your face and tucking it behind your ear as you slowly moved your hips. The groan he let slip was just about the most delicious sound you'd ever heard, the grandest thing you'd ever felt, and you wanted to hear it again, over and over until your last breath.

And then you felt him grow harder underneath you, and the mere implications of that sent you into a tailspin.

"Y/N," Spencer said softly, and you paused, leaning back a little and combing through his hair with your fingers. It was still damp from the shower.

"Do... Do you not want to?" you asked sweetly. "We don't... we don't have to tonight. O—or at all, if you don't want to."

"Oh, no I do, it's... just that I didn't know if you wanted to. And I don't... have a whole lot of experience with sex, a—and I didn't want to... I don't know, be bad."

With a small laugh, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I'm with you, Spencer Reid. Nothing could ever be bad."

"You're just saying that," he said, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

"I mean it. You make me feel safe, and I... I trust you."

He kissed you then, gently one second and then hungrily the next, and it was all too much to bear. So you grabbed his face and kissed him back, as hard as you could, and he matched your energy by lightly bucking his hips up towards you. The feeling sent a shockwave through you, and even elicited a whine from the back of your throat.

The two of you kept at that for a good five minutes or so before you decided it was, again, all too much. You pulled away from him and sat up, still straddling his hips. And while looking down at him, seeing him breathe as steadily as he could, you brought your hands to the hem of your shirt and slowly yanked it over your head, revealing yourself to him and welcoming the warmth that bloomed through you at his reaction.

His eyes widened and his breathing faltered, and even though it was dim, you could have sworn you'd seen a pink tint paint his cheeks.

"Touch me," you whispered suddenly, the urgency surprising even yourself. Without hesitation, Spencer reached out as far as he could and gripped your bare waist. His thumbs swiped gently up the front of your stomach, and then you leaned down a bit, giving him full access.

The second his hands brushed over your bare chest, you sighed out, small pricks of pleasure beaming through your whole body. Your hands reached down to anchor yourself, landing on his chest and gripping his shirt. He kneaded your breasts first, feeling them out and getting used to how they weighed in his hands, and then he slid them over, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your nipples.

You leaned down and kissed him then, gripping his shirt and lifting it until he understood what you were trying to do.

Both of your clothes came off one by one, and by the time you were both fully naked, time seemed to slow. You both marveled at each other, pressed soft kisses to each inch of bare skin, and inevitably prepared for what you both wanted most.

He slipped on a condom, fumbling an explanation of how Morgan gave it to him after the case in LA, and you laughed, promising to give him a piece of your mind later.

And then, you wrapped yourself around him once more. Only, rather than in the pool, he was sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard while your arms rested on his shoulders and your legs clung to his waist.

You sunk onto him slowly, gasping out at how full he made you feel. Every millimeter deeper was slowly splitting you from the inside out, and it was... God, it was everything. Especially as he wrapped his arms around your back, making those comforting circles with his thumbs again, and whispering, "I've got you," over and over again.

By the time he was as deep inside you as he could be, you were breathing into his neck, kissing him there and trying to catch your breath. It had been so long since the last time you'd done this, and now that it was happening, and with Spencer of all people, you were overwhelmed in the best way possible.

Once you were ready, you started moving, slowly lifting your hips and bringing them back down. Until, eventually, you found a slow, searing rhythm that had you panting against his skin.

A low groan left his throat when you clenched around him, and it spurred you on. With another tight squeeze, you quickened your pace just a little, and everything was starting to build.

"Y/N... Y/N, fuck..."

His words were few and far between, but they were laced with just the right amount of wonderment and desire, sending another swarm of butterflies all throughout your entire body.

"Say it again," you breathed desperately in his ear, gripping his shoulders as you clenched around him again. "Say my name, please..."

And he did. It was the sweetest thing you'd ever heard, better than your favorite song, and the only thing you wanted to hear for the rest of your life. He said it again and again, thrown into a mix of expletives and little whimpers that all meshed together to form your new favorite song.

You reciprocated, whimpering out his name when his hips lifted in time with yours, hitting something deeper within you that sent you flying into your own world.

"Kiss me," he pleaded, his hands pressing so firmly into your back you thought they'd leave handprints.

It was a plea you wouldn't deny even if you were able. You kissed him deeply, gladly welcoming the soft push of his tongue against yours and the little sounds he offered. You returned each and every one of them as your body knotted, that imminent feeling of tension starting to rise within every part of you.

He must have felt it, too, because one of his hands reached over and slid in between your bodies, looking for and then finding your clit. His middle finger made easy circles that brought you closer and closer until you snapped, tightening around him—your arms and your legs included.

You cried out against his mouth, and he breathed a final, "I've got you, baby," that shattered your world as you shattered around him. He fell closely behind, and you relished the feeling of him tensing and twitching inside of you.

As your heartbeats slowed, and your breathing right along with it, you slumped against him, your foreheads resting gently against one another. He kissed you sweetly, and you returned it, feeling yourself become more at ease the longer you stayed there.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, still catching his breath. "Can you move?"

Recalling the moment in the pool earlier, you laughed a little, nudging his nose with yours and promptly answering, "I can. But I don't want to."

With a smile, Spencer hugged you closer and let you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

"Then don't."

TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @takeyourleap-of-faith (I’m sorry I keep forgetting to add the taglist to all my stuff, I’m still kinda new at this lol. That being said, if you’d like to be added, shoot me a message or comment here and I’ll add you 😂❤)

#mercy 1k celebration #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid smut #request

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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fireflykaizoku · 2 years

Text

Law x Reader | Hallelujah

merry christmas, @simpforroses my love! you're amazing, kind and i'm so glad we met this year! thank you for everything (for all the beautiful art and especially for being the voice of the reason omg), i love you so muchh! ❤

note: "mi xao" means "stir fry" in Vietnamese, which is also michelle's nickname because it sounds like her name!

It was your first Christmas together with Law, and you both decided he’d spend the 24th with your family, and then with his dad on the 25th. Your boyfriend grew up without celebrating Christmas until Rosinante adopted the boy, and ever since then, they always celebrated it with a feast and the best presents. He never cared about Christmas until he met his father.

You were helping your brother set the table while your parents were finishing cooking the Christmas dinner, when a knock on the door got your attention

— It must be Law. — you said, quickly fixing your outfit before heading to the door. — I’ll get it.

You opened the door, and saw your boyfriend. He seemed nervous, although it wasn’t his first time being at your house.

— Come on in. — you kissed his cheek and took his hand, making Law enter your house. — I told my mom you don’t like bread. — you smiled. — I also told her your favorite food is Onigiri and grilled fish, so she made some too.

— Mi xao, there was no need. — the young man got worried, what if your mom thought he was too picky? She knew him already, but it was his first time eating at your house. — She didn’t need to bother.

— Don’t worry, my love. She doesn’t mind, she likes you and wants you to have a nice Christmas with us.

Law sat in the living room talking to your father while you finished setting the table, and soon it was already time to eat.

The dinner went smoothly, but you couldn’t wait to finally give him the presents. It was your first Christmas together and you were hoping you got the right present. And after thinking and checking his collections in his room, you knew you got something he’d love.

You picked a package underneath the tree. It was wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper with little polar bears all over it; you knew your boyfriend had a soft spot for cute stuff anyway. You handed him the little box. His jaw dropped and Law couldn’t hide his surprise, since he wasn’t expecting to get a present.

— Open it, mein Schatz. — you smiled. — I hope you like it.

Law carefully opened the package, not wanting to ruin the cute paper. The first thing he saw was a rare limited edition of the Sora the Warrior of the Seas comic, not only that, but it looked as if it was new. The quality was perfect. He had no idea of how you got it, but he loved it. He noticed there was more, a few poems you wrote over the year and a few drawings of him.

Your boyfriend was speechless, it was so sweet of you. You put so much thought in every present, and the fact you made most of them, just made everything way more special.

— It’s… It’s amazing, Mi Xao. — he whispered with a little shy smile. — I have no words, everything is… Beautiful.

— I'm glad you liked it. — you kissed his cheek. — I knew it was the only edition you needed to complete your collection.

— I also have a present for you. — he handed you the little box, it was quite heavy compared to the one you gave him. You couldn’t help smiling at the beautiful dark blue and gold paper wrapping the package. — I think you’ll like it.

You opened it carefully, and saw a special edition of your favorite book. Law knew how much you wanted to get it eventually, since you mentioned it a few times before. You never imagine he would’ve remembered it.

— My love, it’s the anniversary edition… — you smiled, still looking at your present, touching the cover feeling every detail; opening the book and flipping the pages, letting the smell of the new book fill the air. — I loved it! I loved it so much!

The dark haired boy seemed proud of himself, knowing he got the right present. Since your family was near, you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, making a slight shade of pink cover his face.

— It’s karaoke time! — you brother said, already giving each one of you a microphone.

Law looked at you with wide eyes. Karaoke time? In front of people? You never told him about karaoke. You giggled seeing his reaction and held his hand as a reassuring gesture.

— You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. But if you want, don’t worry, you can just look at me.

For the first few songs, Law just watched you and your family sing a few songs, like Les Anges Dans Nos Campagnes, The Holly and the Ivy… He didn’t know some of them, but he loved to hear you sing. No one pressured him, but he felt so comfortable about you and your family, that he decided he’d give it a try. You wouldn’t judge him anyway.

— I… I want to try it too. — he looked at you when the song was over.

— Of course! — You smiled while giving him a microphone. — You can pick a song you like.

You both chose a song, and you held your boyfriend’s hand. As you started singing, his eyes never left yours, but you were surprised at how well he sang. His voice sounded beautiful while talking about things he was passionate about, while reading a book together and even asking questions in History class. But singing? You imagined this is probably how an angel sounded like. For those few minutes, you both felt like the world around you didn’t exist, and it was only both of you, singing, smiling at each other and holding hands.

Growing up, before meeting Rosinante, Law never liked Christmas. There was nothing to celebrate, nothing to be thankful for. But now, years later, looking at you in the eyes while singing Hallelujah, he felt his heart full of joy, full of love and full of appreciation. You made his holidays have a bit more meaning, and he couldn’t wait to spend the next Christmas next to you again.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law #Christmas 2021

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

all my focus on you

summary: all of your focus is on Jake, and yet you can’t see that he loves you.

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 3.2k

note from the writer: this is the first thing I've posted in months and I really like how it turned out. let me know what you think! also I didn’t edit it so sorry ahead of time.

“Who’s Tuna?”

You had heard the nickname tossed around a lot. At least, you were pretty sure it was a nickname. You were new to the world of hockey, having only really paid attention to the sport in the past few months as a result of your roommate, Jess, dating professional player Brock Boeser. Through him, you had met Elias, Quinn, Thatcher, Troy, and a whole assortment of others. But, Tuna still remained a mystery to you. Apparently, he was going to be joining your group out to the bar that night.

“You’ll like him.” Brock declared, giving you the same response he always did whenever you asked, while Elias’ smile turned the special kind of mischievous that only he could ever pull off. You didn’t have the chance to question how he could have been so certain, because Jess called your name and insisted that you start getting ready to go.

You’d never, not once in a million years, admit it that Brock was right.

You did like ‘Tuna’. A lot more than you probably should have. He was fun and outgoing from the moment Brock introduced you to him at the bar. Your heart stopped in your chest when you realized that Tuna was Jake Virtanen, your secret hockey crush. When Jess started seeing Brock, she showed you the entire Canucks roster. Jake’s piercing blue eyes struck out to you from the moment you saw his picture, but other than a ‘oh he’s cute’ and a mental note of his name and number, you kept quiet.

Now, he was standing before you, handing extended for you to shake with a dazzling smile that nearly made you forget your own name.

“I’m Jake.” He said brightly, and you offered your own smile in return as you slipped your hand into his meekly. Your face warmed at his touch, and if you possessed the ability to look away from Jake, you would have seen the shit-eating grin Brock wore. But you couldn’t, and instead you saw the way Jake’s gaze stayed on you, his own cheeks turning red. “What’re you drinking? I’m buying tonight.”

And thus, an amazing friendship grew. Which, for whatever reason, Brock seemed to loathe.

He was insistent that there was something more between you and Jake, which you vehemently denied, and each time your cheeks would burn brightly. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want anything more with Jake, in the few months that you had gotten to know him, he had become one of your closest friends and the person you told everything too.

And your secret hockey crush turned into full blown feelings. Most of your time was spent with him, even if you felt nothing but butterflies in your stomach whenever he was near. Only a few short months after meeting him, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was a constant presence in your life, as sure as you were that the sun would rise, you knew that Jake would be there for you.

With a schedule as crazy as a professional athlete’s, you jumped on any opportunity to spend time with Jake and any of the guys on the team, who all quickly became good friends of yours, along with their partners. Currently, you were at a diner, getting a quick lunch with Jake, Petey, and Brock, the two blondes sharing a side of the booth opposite of you.

Jake was in the middle of animatedly telling a story, and you watched with your undivided attention. Well, nearly undivided, since he had swung an arm around your shoulders shortly after sitting down and the simple contact had your heart beating like crazy. Petey had sent you no less than three shit-eating grins, and Brock was openly chuckling at how flustered you were. You were just thankful Jake was as oblivious as he was.

“You’re coming to the game tonight, right?” Jake asked, jostling you with the arm that was around his shouler to get your attention as soon as he finished his story. You nodded, taking a sip of your drink to cover up the fact that you had been openly staring at him as he spoke. “Perfect. Alright, I’ve got to run. I’m supposed to meet with my nutritionist.”

There was a chorus of ‘goodbyes’ as he tossed some cash on the table, enough to cover both his bill and yours, since he always insisted on paying for you. Before he could slide out of the booth, though, he pressed a quick kiss to your temple, an innocent act that had your heart doing cartwheels. You avoided Petey and Brock’s gazes, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. It was only when the bell chimed on the door signalling that Jake had left, did someone speak up.

“Oh, come on!” Brock groaned, and you shot him a curious look. He ignored you, turning to face Elias, who was grinning in amusement. “I’m just going to tell her. It’s painful at this point.”

“Tell me what?” You question, nerves seeping into you, watching Elias shrug and grin wider. Instantly, your mind thought about the worst, like someone was getting traded or something similar, but nothing could have prepared you for what Brock said next.

“Jake is in love with you.”

“What? No, he’s not.” You spluttered, eyes wide and cheeks warm. Brock rolled his eyes at you, a scoff leaving his lips as if he thought his teammate’s apparent affection was obvious.

“He talks about you all the time.” Petey offered, and you fell silent. Elias wasn’t one to mess around with something like that. Sure, he made sly comments that had you laughing everytime, but this was different.

“He thinks you could never like him back, so we have to listen to him complain about it.” Brock’s tone was serious, but you could hear the subtle chirp. You pursed your lips, dropping your focus onto your plate to avoid meeting either of their gazes.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You settled on saying, though just because you dropped the conversation, it didn’t mean that you stopped thinking about it.

Even hours later as you were walking through the doors of the arena, you were still thinking about it. Though, you were quickly distracted as Jess led you through the crowd to find your seats and watch warm-ups.

Despite your inner turmoil, the Virtanen jersey felt right on your shoulders, now a regular part of your wardrobe. When Jake had found out that you had no idea about hockey, he had bought you the number eighteen Canucks sweater, along with tickets to just about every home game, claiming you were his good luck charm. When he gave you his jersey, he stated that it was to make your hockey experience complete—thought now you weren’t so sure.

Brock’s words from earlier in the day were still bouncing in your head. You had a hard time believing they were true, but then you thought over nearly every interaction you had with Jake. They all had a common theme—Jake was always looking at you with a softness to his eyes that you had, at the time, chaked up to his friendliness. Now, thinking back, you recognized the look. It was the same look you gave him.

A look of utter adoration and total love.

You settled into your seat to watch the game with a wide smile on your face, borderline giddy with the conclusion you had come to. You decided that after the game, when you would be going back to Jake’s for a movie night and a sleepover, a tradition that had been established after celebrating a win too hard one night and you spent the night at his place, and at the following brunch it was decided his guest room would be yours after any home games. Though, if you played your cards right, you wouldn’t be sleeping in the guest room.

Your happiness only lasted until halfway through the first period, and quickly dread formed in the pit of your stomach. The game was back and forth, neither team able to keep possession of the puck for very long. Petey scored first, and you cheered loudly, but clamped your mouth shut when a player on the opposite team—you couldn’t see a name on his jersey, and even so, you didn’t pay attention to any hockey team outside of Vancouver—started shoving Jake. Of course, Jake was running his mouth and shoving back, and it was only when a ref skated between the two players did you let out a breath of relief you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Apparently, Jake pissed off the other team a lot more than you originally thought.

You would have sworn he was being targeted. Everytime he was on the ice, it seemed, that an opposing player would check him into the boards. He wad getting hit hard from all angles, he got tripped twice but only drew a penalty on one—and if you screamed bullshit! at the ref, then who would have blamed you—and got into a fight late in the second after an opposing player shoved into Thatcher.

It was the third period when things really went awry.

It was the final minutes of the period, Vancouver up by one, thanks to Bo’s goal at the end of the second. The Canucks were fighting to hold on, maybe score an extra point to cement their victory, while the other team was getting desperate. And they were playing dirty, too.

You didn’t really register the gasp that fell from your lips as some unknown opponent slammed Jake into the boards, head on, with clear intent to injure him. You did remember jumping to your feet, as if that would make everything better.

Jess, who you hadn’t really acknowledged was sitting next to you in your stress, gripped your arm tightly. You watched in horror as Jake stayed down, hands holding his head as the athletic trainer jogged across the ice with the assistance of Troy Stetcher. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake, but if you could, you would have seen Brock looking worriedly from his injured teammate to where he knew you were in the stands.

It felt like years later when Jake finally stood, and while leaning heavily on his trainer and Troy, he went down the tunnel. You sat down stifly into your seat, leg bouncing in nerves and fingers tapping an unknown pattern as you anxiously waited for the game to be over so you could check on Jake.

Five minute major, game misconduct.

Good, you thought, but you kept your mouth clamped shut as nausea swirl in your stomach. Distantly, you heard Jess say that the opposing player was most likely going to get fined for his actions. You knew hockey was a hard hitting sport, but that was terrible. You had seen Jake hurt before, blocked shots, highsticks, and the sorts—but not once had it taken him that long to get back up.

You couldn’t focus on the rest of the game, you were pretty sure that at some point Quinn had scored, but eventually Jess was leading you down to the tunnel where had to meet the other players. Holly, Bo’s wife, had tried to assure you that Jake would be fine the moment she saw you.

“He’s got a thick skull.” She tried to lighten the mood, but all you could muster was a weak smile and a laugh that sounded forced and foriegn to even your own ears. You listened to the other wives and girlfriends of players chatter about who knows what—certainly not you, you were staring at the door you knew the boys emerged from—for minutes. The girls knew you, how you were always around Jake, acting like a couple but not once taking that extra step, so they knew how stressed you were, waiting for the verdict.

Elias was the first one to exit the room, heading straight to you with a tiny, reassuring, smile on his face. Your arms were crossed tightly across your body, an indicator of just how uncomfortable you were in the moment.

“He’s fine. He’ll be out in a few minutes.” He told you quietly. Though it helped calmed you slightly, you couldn’t get the imagine of him laying on the ice out of your head. You nodded your head in thanks, before he patted your shoulder comfortingly and departed. Quinn was next out, shooting you a pitiful smile. Tanev, Toffoli, and Edler all came out before finally, the brunette you had been waiting for emerged with Brock at his side.

He looked terrible, his tie was loose around his neck, hair a mess from the quick post-game shower he had just taken. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked so tired that your heart clenched in your chest.

“How are you?” You asked quietly once he stopped before you. Jess and Brock left to give you some privacy, but you didn’t notice in the slightest. Your focus was on Jake—like it always was.

“A little beat up, nothing I can’t handle.” He waved off his injured like it was nothing. You pouted for a moment, knowing he was playing down the severity of it. He seemed to sense your disbelief, because he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. You sank into the embrace, reciprocating the hug with a deep sigh.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” You threatened into the fabric of his suit, wrapping your arms tiger around his middle. He chuckled lowly, holding you just as tight in return. Your heart was thundering in your chest, your stomach a lightning storm of nerves.

“I’ll try not to.” He assured you quietly, dropping a kiss to top of your head. You thought back to your decision before the game, how you were going to confront both his feelings and yours, and decided that it could wait just a little bit longer.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” You mumbled, pulling away sightly. He nodded and you, and you were pleasantly surprised as he slipped his hand into yours, threading your fingers together, as you headed in the direction of his car.

You insisted on driving, and Jake only protested slightly. The ride was quiet, and you could tell something was bothering him, but chose to stay quiet and let him come to you when he was ready. Or at least until you got back to his home. Instead, you listened to his music play softly from the car as you weaved through the streets of Vancouver, taking the familiar path to Jake’s place.

When you finally arrived, he slipped into his bedroom to change into something more comfortable, and you made yourself comfortable on his couch. When he returned, he was in a Canucks hoodie and pair of grey sweats, and instead of sitting next to you on the couch, he laid across it so his head was in your lap. Instantly, your hand threaded though his hair and you scratched at his scalp, something you knew he loved. His eyes fluttered shut at the action, and he hummed contentedly.

“You scared me tonight.” You said softly after a moment. You tried to will away the tears that welled up in your eyes, remembering how it felt to see him laying on the ice, injured. It tore you in two, you had never felt more sick to your stomach at a sight than you did when he was down.

“I know.” He sighed queitly in response. Not trusting yourself to keep your voice steady, you chose not to respond right away. He reached a hand up, grabbing yours out of his hair and pressing a kiss to your palm, before threading your fingers through his and resting it on his chest.

And then, you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling past your lips—

“I love you too much to see you get hurt like that.” You hated how your voice cracked, and most of all you hated how you confessed your feelings. You wanted to do so during a happy moment, one shared with smiles and he’d tell you he felt the same, but no, you were holding back tears on his couch as he tensed, your words registering.

“What?” He questioned, sitting up abruptly. You would have thought that you had screwed everything up, if it weren’t for the near-death grip he had on your hand. Still, you couldn’t meet his gaze, and instead focused on the coffee table. Gently, with his free hand, he cupped your jaw, turning so you were facing him. It was then that you realized that you were crying, silent tear tracks running down your cheeks that he brushed away carefully as he studied your face intently. “What did you just say?”

“I love you.” You choked out, voice tight. “And I’m new to the hockey thing, so I’m not used to seeing hits like that and I—”

Your ramblings were cut short as Jake surged forward, connecting your lips to his. It took you a moment to react, but your free hand eventually moved to the back of his neck, your other still gripped in yours. The kiss wasn’t heated, but loaded with so much passion and emotion it made your head swirl. Months of casual flirting and innocent touches built to this moment, and you would be lying if you said you were aware of how long you actually were pressed against him.

Eventually, he did pull back, a wide and dopey grin on his face. You smiled just as brightly, the hand on the back of his neck toying slightly with the strands of hair there. Chasing your lips for a few quick pecks that your readily complied with.

“I love you, too.” He hummed, seemingly unable to tear his focus from you. You didn’t mind, not one bit, considering he had you attention from the moment you had met.

“I know.” You grinned, watching as his brows pull together in confusion, a silent question and urge for you to elaborate. With a giggle, you explained. “Brock told me.”

“Of course he did.” Jake groaned, tipping his head back. You chuckled at his dramatics, looking at him with the same fond look you always did. Only this time, you didn’t have to worry about him finding out. Your hand moved from behind his head to his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. You smiled as he brought his attenton back to you, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “You know, he’s been trying to set me up with you this entire time.”

“Yeah, he told me that I’d like you the night we met. He and Petey were planning this.” You explained, watching as he lifted your joined hands and kissed the back of yours, a barking laugh leaving him as you finished your sentence.

“Was he right?” He asked cheekily, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest so he could cuddle you. You admired him with a soft smile, watching as he grabbed the remote on the couch beside him to put on a movie. Never in a millions years would you admit that Brock was right, but you with the way Jake was smiling, you decided to make an acception.

“Definitely.”

#jake virtanen #Jake Virtanen x reader #Jake Virtanen imagine #Jake Virtanen imagines #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #NHL imagine #NHL x reader #vancouver canucks #Vancouver canucks x reader #Vancouver Canucks imagine

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

s is for sexy

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook

Word Count: 1,532

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Art of War More. This drabble takes place after the events of both TAOM and L is for Lunacy. Jungkook is included in People magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive issue, but you can’t find a copy anywhere.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

“We’ve made a terrible mistake,” you complained, sinking down on a park bench to rest your chin in one hand.

Coming to a stop, Gina craned her neck to peer over her shoulder. “I agree,” she said. “We should’ve stopped and gotten donuts at that shop I pointed out.”

“Gina.” You looked up. “Read the room, alright?”

“Right, sorry.”

She grinned, plopping down on the park bench beside you. Adjusting her green and white striped shorts, Gina lifted a hand to scan the horizon. A few children played on the slide at the playground, their innocent cackles drifting over the hedges.

Utterly exhausted, you sighed. “We should give up.”

“No!” Gina turned to face you, appalled. “We’re not stopping until we’ve combed every newsstand in the city. Until we’ve harassed every bodega owner! Until our names are plastered under persona non grata in every library!”

Normally, Gina’s speeches were enough for you to crack a smile, but not today. Today was the day Jungkook’s big magazine article was released and you had woefully dropped the ball. To be fair, Seokjin had suggested you order the volume ahead of time, since the People’s Sexiest Men issue tended to sell out, but you completely forgot.

Jungkook had stayed on campus through Senior year, but then had immediately entered the NHL. This was his second full season with the team and already, he was garnering national attention. Much of this was due to a viral clip of your boyfriend removing his jersey at the end of game five of the western conference finals, but said clip wouldn’t have gone viral if Jungkook had been on the bench.

The fact that he got playing time in his first season was remarkable – let alone that he was playing in the semis and was now considered the league’s It boy. Already there were rumors of him being nominated for end of year awards. Jungkook was excited about those, of course, but you and your friends were more excited for this. People’s Sexiest Men Alive.

He wasn’t the cover, of course – that was reserved for A list celebrities – but it seemed Jungkook’s abs had been enough to land him a mention. You’d planned on wallpapering the apartment door with the photo before he got home tomorrow, but that wouldn’t happen if you couldn’t get your hands on a copy.

Unfortunately for you, the issue seemed to be sold out.

Sighing again, you folded your arms over your chest. “Has Seokjin said anything to you?” you asked Gina. “Was he able to find one?”

“How should I know?” she said, somewhat defensive. “It’s not like I know everything Seokjin does or says.”

You stared at her for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Uh – I know?”

“Right.” Gina swallowed, somewhat mollified. “Why don’t we call him?”

Shaking your head at her weirdness, you pulled your phone from your pocket. Honestly, Gina and Seokjin had been acting mad weird lately. They acted all cagey and awkward whenever you asked one about the other. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think they were fighting.

Dialing Seokjin’s number, you leaned back on the bench and listened to his ringback tone. Kim Seokjin was one of the only people you knew – well, him and your aunt – who still had that feature, and Seokjin hadn’t bothered to update his since 2011. It was still Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.

HEY, I JUST MET YOU! AND THIS IS CRAZ –

“Hello?”

“Seokjin,” you groaned. “When are you going to change that dumb ringback tone?”

“Whenever Carly Rae goes out of style, so never.”

Gina, having overheard, cracked up beside you.

“Anyways,” you said, switching to your other ear. “Any luck on the search?”

“Sorry, but nope. Seems your boyfriend is more in demand than that one donut shop Gina always wants to go to.”

“That, or it’s the fact that Michael B. Jordan’s on the cover.”

“Yeah, probably that.”

“Alright,” you sighed, picking a thread on your jeans. “Thanks for trying, Seokjin.”

“Anytime,” he said and hung up.

As you shoved your phone in your purse, Gina looked at you warily. “No luck?”

“Nope.”

“Hm.” Gina leaned back on the bench. “Maybe we should switch gears here, get creative. We could cut out semi-nude photos of Jungkook and stick them to the pages of last year’s edition!”

“Where would I get last year’s issue, though?”

“Good point.” Gina thought. “You could just stick semi-nude photos of Jungkook to your front door?”

“Gina,” you laughed, shoving her shoulder. “Stop stripping my boyfriend!”

“There it is!” Gina beamed. “I knew I could get you to laugh.”

Shaking your head, your smile faded a little. Gina was right though, this was silly. It would’ve been fun for Jungkook to come home from his away game to this, but it was hardly the end of the world. You would just order a copy online and wait.

Heaving a great sigh, you stood from the bench. “Okay,” you said, turning to Gina. “Let’s head out.”

Gina convinced you to go to the donut shop at least, so you didn’t arrive home empty-handed. That was the reason she gave you at least, although you knew it had more to do with her recently launched donut Instagram.

The box was precariously perched on your hip as you shoved open the door, placing the keys on the hook to kick the door shut. As you turned to walk inside, you started – nearly dropping the entire box of donuts on the floor.

“Jungkook?” you gasped.

Chucking the box on the counter, you dashed across the room.

Jungkook laughed when you reached him, immediately jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He caught you easily, warm hands on your waist as you buried your face in his chest. Somewhat awkwardly, he walked you towards the kitchen.

“You’re back!” you blurted, pulling back to see him.

Jungkook grinned, rosy-cheeked from your touch. “I’m back,” he agreed, depositing you on the kitchen counter. “Miss me?”

“How?” you demanded, poking his chest. “How’d you get home so fast?”

“I feel so welcome,” Jungkook teased. At the look on your face, he grinned. “Coach cancelled tomorrow’s practice, so I caught a flight back today.”

“Yay,” you said happily, leaning to rest your head on his chest.

The steady thrum of his heartbeat reassured you and for a moment, you allowed yourself to enjoy this. Jungkook smelled as he always did, like light floral and cotton, and the weight of his hands on your thighs made your heart calm.

His thumbs played with the thread on your jeans, which sent your mind to other places – places involving your bed, his ass and zero clothes – but for now, you were content with this.

“What’s in the box?” he murmured into your hair.

“Oh, right,” you said and pulled back. Twisting around, you dragged the donut box towards you and popped the top. “Some might be a bit squished since I threw them. Gina and I went to the new donut place on Lakeview.”

Jungkook’s eyes went super-wide. He immediately bent to grab the closest donut, powdered sugar getting everywhere when he bit into the side.

“Yum.” Jungkook’s eyes rolled exaggeratedly back in his head. “Wow, this is the best welcome home I’ve ever gotten. There’s you, of course, but also – donuts.”

“Obviously,” you said. “There was actually supposed to be another surprise, but I kind of messed it up.”

Jungkook licked powdered sugar off his wrist. “Messed something up? You? Don’t buy it.”

“Suck up,” you teased. “But no, really. I wanted to get your People’s Sexiest Men edition! I was going to plaster it across the front door and embarrass you.”

Jungkook grimaced. “As fun as that sounds, the donuts are better.”

“What? You aren’t proud of how sexy you are?”

“I don’t care about that.” Jungkook swallowed the last of the donut. “As long as you find me sexy.”

Tipping your head back, you groaned. “Okay, now you’re seriously sucking up.”

“Mm.” Placing his hands on either side of your thighs, Jungkook’s nose grazed your jawline. “Anything else you want me to suck?”

“Jungkook!”

Drawing back, his gaze glinted darkly. “Besides, why do you need that photo of me with my shirt off?”

You frowned, perturbed and he reached one hand overhead. Still looking at you, Jungkook did that stupid-hot thing guys do where they remove their shirt with one hand. When his six pack abs were revealed, they left you a bit speechless.

Flexing a little, Jungkook grinned. “You have the real thing.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, shoving his pec. Oh – hard. Sliding down from the counter, you began walking towards the bedroom. “But since you offered…”

Jungkook waggled his brows. “I did.”

“Get in there, sexiest man alive,” you laughed. “Show me what you got.”

“Alright.” Jungkook caught himself on the doorframe with both hands. “But before we go any further, I feel compelled to clarify I’m not People’s sexiest man, just one of them. Michael B. Jordan is the sexiest man alive.”

“Jungkook!” You pointed through the door. “Bed!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a salute.

You stared after him, grinning stupidly before following.

kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook drabble #bts drabble

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foreverfallingforthestars · 3 years

Text

Have We Met Before?

This is my last entry for Rowaelin month and it's my favorite one out of all of them. I'm really proud of this one, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you to the admin group for holding Rowaelin month!

Song this is based off of is Eric Nam and Sarah Barrios' Have We Met Before

cw: kind of has character death but also not

Word Count: 1821 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 29 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: A work based off a song

~~~~~~

Aelin was exhausted, and as she sat down in the local café in her new neighborhood, she finally felt some semblance of peace. She had just moved to Doranelle due to an incredible job offer in one of the best publishing houses in this side of the world, and Aelin would be an idiot if she didn’t take it. Granted, she was now farther away from her cousin and her best friend, but she’d deal with anything if it meant working with some of her favorite authors. Packing up everything and moving into a new apartment was hard and tiring enough, but it was even worse with the strange, vivid dreams she’d been getting ever since moving into the apartment.

She moved a hand to rub at her collarbone, a sudden ache passing through the area as she remembered the dream - that was practically a nightmare, if she were being honest - where she had been slashed against that area with a knife before she had woken up with a strange sensation of missing someone along with the deep heartache that followed it.

It felt more like a memory, but that couldn’t be possible.

Shaking off the weird feeling in her gut, she tried to focus on the open word document on her laptop screen. This was the perfect opportunity to drink some coffee, have some great pastries, and get some editing done, and yet, even after nearly half of an hour of working, her mind kept drifting off to the dream.

Sighing, Aelin looked up and was surprised to find a man sharing the coffee table with her. The table was fairly large, big enough to seat four people comfortably, and she hadn’t even noticed when the man had chosen to sit diagonally across from her. She didn’t really mind, but the strange feeling overcame her again as she took him in.

He had silver hair, and his eyes were focused on the book in his hands, and he was fairly built if the tight shirt showing off his pecs were any indication. Under normal circumstances, Aelin would’ve been more than happy to start up a conversation with him — considering how handsome he was and the fact that he was a reader — to try to get to know him more, but as she watched him take a sip of his black coffee, she was astonished that she felt like she already knew him.

But how? Aelin’s brow furrowed as she contemplated where she could’ve possibly seen him. She’d just moved to the country — there was no way she knew anyone already that wasn’t working with her. He was a stranger, and yet the more she looked at him, the closer she felt to him.

It felt like déjà vu, and as the man looked up to glance around the room, his strikingly green eyes reminded her of the eyes she had seen in her dreams. Once they landed on her face, their eyes meeting and causing an undercurrent of electricity to pass through her, it was as though all the breath had been knocked out of her.

Aelin swore she had seen those eyes before, in her dreams no less, but that was impossible. She’d never seen this man before.

It couldn’t be, and yet…

~~~

“Come on, Aelin,” he teased, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s one dance.” They were sitting on the stairs of her apartment building, and the streets were filled with music. It was the second anniversary of Terrasen becoming an independent kingdom, and the celebrations were going on in full-force. Aelin loved the happy and carefree atmosphere that the music blasting through the streets would bring about, but unfortunately, if she didn’t finish writing down her thoughts on the uprising rebellion against the current regime for Doranelle Daily, then she would just become “another one of those useless women” that her boss, Arobynn, loved to harass.

“Yes, and then one dance turns into five,” she retorted, but without any of her usual snark. “I need to finish this article for tomorrow.” Aelin held up her notebook for emphasis, showing off her unfinished sentence.

“Oh, come on, darling,” her boyfriend continued pestering, pushing her notebook back into her lap and leaning in for a quick kiss that she let him have.

“Honey, let me finish this, and then I promise we will have your dance.”

He looked absolutely petulant for a moment, his nose scrunching up in annoyance, and she reached out to ruffle his beautifully silver hair with a laugh.

“Aelin!” he protested, reaching up to push the wayward strands back down. She simply grinned at him and pecked him quickly before going back to her notebook. She heard him sigh, and she knew then that she had won him over. Her boyfriend got comfortable by wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and settling his chin on her shoulder. Aelin pressed back up into his arms, content and happy with her life.

Until, of course, everything went up in flames.

~~~

Rowan didn’t know what possessed him to sit down at a table where there was already someone sitting there, but he felt compelled to be by the woman with the blonde hair that seemed exactly like the shade of blonde that was plaguing his dreams.

He sat down on the other side of her, diagonal from her so he wouldn’t be directly in her line of sight. She seemed to be typing away, hard at work, and he decided that he would instead just focus on his book. He came out today to get some fresh air, clear his mind after the strange dreams he’d started having every night for almost a week, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Instead, he spent the next half hour reading the same two pages, his eyes mindlessly passing over the words, and yet he didn’t actually comprehend any of them.

His eyes kept drifting up, roaming around the room as he looked at the café without really looking, before they just ended back on the woman sitting so close, yet so far.

As he watched her type away on her laptop, Rowan felt as though this quiet, yet stange, comfort he felt around her was familiar, like he had lived through this exact moment before. He watched as she blindly picked up what looked like a sweet latte, if the amount of whipped cream on top was any indication, and then she took a bite of an apple turnover.

Yet, there was no way he had. The woman was an utter stranger — albeit, a beautiful one — and that was that. Rowan had simply lost his mind. There was no other explanation.

He directed his attention back to his book in a last ditch attempt to make some progress before letting out a frustrated sigh as he gave up again. Rowan looked back up at the bustling cafe and then at the woman, and he was surprised to find that she was looking right at him.

His eyes met her blue ones, and it could not be a coincidence that the blue eyes that he seemed to love in his dreams were the same ones that this woman had, down to the golden ring surrounding them.

~~~

They were sitting in their favorite local café, a quiet serenity surrounding them. Rowan didn’t need to be constantly talking to his girlfriend to just be happy and content with her. It was her presence that just put his mind at rest.

She was drinking an intensely sweetened milk tea, and he had just opted for a simple black tea while the two shared an apple turnover. It was one of the few pastries the two had ever agreed on, and they always opted to order one whenever they went out. Money was tight between the two of them, but they made it work to at least always be able to splurge once in a while.

Rowan looked up from his own book and smiled at the sight of his girlfriend furiously writing in her notebook, working on yet another article for Doranelle Daily. Her hair seemed to be getting in her eyes, and instead of tying it up, she kept blowing it out of her face to the point where Rowan couldn’t hold in his chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You could just tie up your hair,” he responded, laughter still clear in his voice. She looked up at him, her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed towards him.

“Oh, so now my suffering is funny to you?”

“Darling,” he spoke, leaning in closer to her from across the table, “you’re just lazy.”

“Rude,” she scoffed, but she took the hair tie off her wrist to tie up her hair, anyway.

“See? It wasn’t so hard to listen to me.”

“You could try to be a little less annoying.”

“You wouldn’t love me the same.”

“I would love to have some peace and quiet right about now.”

“We could just go home,” he innocently offered.

“So you can distract me from work again? No, thank you.”

Rowan’s jaw fell open slightly out of indignation before he scowled, and that caused a giggle to burst out of her. Rowan let go of his scowl and smiled as well.

This was what he loved, what he cherished.

Until, of course, he lost it all.

~~~

The two estranged lovers watched one another, surprise written clearly over their faces. The lack of recognition between the two was overshadowed by the memories in their dreams. The love bursting in their chest, mingled with the pain of their unwanted separation burned through them, so maybe they would say that the dreams were more like nightmares.

~~~

It was a “wrong time, wrong place” type situation. Nothing more.

The couple were walking down an alley, hand in hand, happily chatting, only to be attacked by rebels, trying to rob them in the dimming sunlight.

The female tried screaming for help when the male pushed her back, trying to protect her as he fought back against the two rebels.

It wasn’t enough.

A third rebel appeared behind the female, slashing a knife across her collarbone, causing a shriek of pain to escape her. Her screams mingled with the male’s as he tried to fight towards her, but a rebel slashed him across his bicep.

The couple was abandoned in the alley only when they had been removed of any jewelry and money, instead left with slashes and stab wounds that had them bleeding out on the ground. They stumbled into each other’s arms, clinging to their love while they would not be able to cling to life for much longer.

Their last words were declarations of love.

~~~

With those last words ringing through their minds, they each felt a pull towards one another, yet she was the one who was able to utter one sentence.

“Have we met before?”

#rowaelinmonth #day 29 #reincarnation #kinda angsty?#rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #aelin galythinius

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roll-da-credits · 3 years

Text

His Biggest Regret -Bakugou Katsuki x Reader-

Word count: 2.28k

After cracking down a big mafia operation on the other side of the globe, the entire alumni’s of UA’s 1st year finally gets together. The festive situation didn’t sit right with Bakugou who felt the overwhelming longing of someone he couldn’t have anymore.

!Warning!:

Mentions of death, mentions of injury, I think that’s it?

A/n: I honestly felt sad writing this haha, I’m kind of proud of it? Editting it was a hassle tho. Anyways, hope ya’ll enjoy some Bakugou (or Bakugo however you want to spell it) angst.

“Congrats Kacchan!!!” Deku playfully slaps the back of his childhood friend.

His smile was bigger than ever. Around Bakugou was his former classmates all talking away in their own little space.

It's been a long time since they all got together since their graduation. Every time anyone tried to plan anything, at least one of them couldn’t make it. But after a big takedown on a pesky Mafia group on the other side of the globe, they all agreed to take a break and celebrate.

The mastermind of the entire operation was the number 1 hero himself, Katsuki Bakugou. “Without you, I don’t think we’d be able to crack the operation.” Kirishima walked over to them with an equally bright smile.

“Tsk, of course! You extras would’ve gotten nowhere without me!!!” The group laughed together.

Some things just never change when it comes to their anger issues ridden former classmate.

“Then I shall make a toast!” Iida spoke loud enough to make sure everyone heard his voice. Everyone nodded and raised a glass. “To Bakugou, for cracking the mystery of Banana Fish.”

“And to all of us who worked together to finally end Golzine’s reign.” With that, everyone cheered and took a sip from whatever drinks they were holding.

Soon enough, endless chatter filled the entire room.

Smiles, laughter, and giggles could be heard from any point of the room. Old friends reconciling with each other. Old lovers mending their relationships. And old enemies finally apologizing.

It felt foreign to Bakugou.

Not the fact that they were all getting along. It wasn’t that.

It was the fact that everyone knew they were missing someone incredibly important.

They weren’t here right now.

He observed the private club with a keen eye. There were bottles of random drinks on almost every table, shot glasses also littered there.

His former classmates were always responsible drinkers. But today, they took shots after shots. Bottle after bottle.

Even Iida seemed to always have a different drink in his hand every time Bakugou would glance over.

He knew; it wasn’t to celebrate. It was to make sure everyone was too tipsy to say anything that would ruin the mood. It was to make sure that no one brought ‘them’ up.

Afterall, their busy schedules weren’t the only thing that stopped them from getting back together and hanging out.

They held fear in their eyes any time the thought of getting together would cross their minds. The thought of having to come face to face with their greatest failure as a hero, friend, and classmate.

Bakugou knew the feeling all too well.

When he was alone, there were plenty of things he could do to prevent his mind from wandering too far. But whenever he’d come across Deku or Shoto in missions or patrol.

If he were to strike a conversation, there’d always be a small silence that would almost always lead to them bringing up the topic of ‘them’.

“Heyyyy bakubrooo you should relax, you seem a little tense!!!” Kirishima’s words slurred.

It was close to 2 am, the party had already died down a little bit.

Some of his more responsible friends are already long gone. Leaving behind either the ones who are passed out or waiting for their ride.

“Get that shit away from me shitty hair!” He huffed and pushed the half full bottle of some random alcohol his friend tried to hand to him.

“Oh, come one number one. You should loosen up!!! You looked more angry than usual this entire time!!!” Kirishima sat down on the couch beside Bakugou with a loud thud.

“I mean, doesn’t the number one hero deserve a break every once in a while? You deserve it Bakubro. You cracked this giant case!!! Without you, that guy with the purple mohawk could’ve died.”

Kirishima laughed, reminiscing all the sleepless nights he and Bakugou would spend just doing research and trying to gain information from anywhere they could.

He took another swig from the half-emptied bottle, “I don’t deserve the number one spot dumbass.”

Bakugou muttered barely above a whisper.

Even though Kirishima was beyond wasted, the fact that his usually guarded friend suddenly opened up sobered him. “Hey, don’t be like that Bakubro. I’m sure they’d want you to be happy.”

Kirishima tried his best to comfort his friend, to no avail.

“I’m going home.” Bakugou suddenly stood up. “Don’t drive dumbass.” With that he walked to leave the club and to his car, hearing Kirishima yell his response. “Got it!!!”

When he got home, he quickly changed out of the annoyingly formal attire, back to his normal everyday attire. A black tank top and sweatpants.

Bakugou fell onto his bed with a small thud, a sigh of exhaustion left his lips. “Damn shitty hair talking about shit that shouldn’t be talked about.”

There was an unspoken rule amongst anyone who knew the alumni’s situation.

Don’t talk about them, you’ll regret it.

After tossing and turning around, Bakugou realized. He couldn’t sleep.

“Fuck.”

It wasn’t a normal sight to see the hero not being able to sleep. He was so strict about his sleeping schedules too. But his mind can’t seem to leave what Kirishima said.

“I’m sure they’d want you to be happy.”

Who does Kirishima think he was? Talking about them like that. Who knows what they’d think of him right now? He broke his promise to always protect them. To always be by their side.

His head looked to the right. A bedside cabinet made out of wood, stood. Devoid of any decor and just with a single compartment.

A single object lies within that cabinet.

His mind argued with each other, debating whether or not to open it.

“Fuck it!”

If he regretted this decision, he’d deal with that later.

Sitting up on the side of his bed he looked solemnly towards the cabinet.

A shaking hand opened the compartment.

There was a single photo frame, the photo side facing down instead of up.

Before he could back down, he took the frame and flipped it to see the photo.

The photo gleamed at him. It was a pitiful reminder.

Overwhelming sadness and anger filled him, when he looked at the picture. Anger, frustration, longingness, sadness, it all came crashing down.

Before he knew it, stray tears fell from his eyes.

The photo was the last photo he ever took together with his high school sweetheart. The love of his life. The person he promised to marry one day. It was the last photo he ever took with you before the world took you away.

Before those villains attacked UA whilst he was in his 3rd year.

It was before he lost the most important person to a villain.

The battlefield was a mess. It had ended but it was still a mess. Random debris scattered around. Some of his classmates and other students from other classes were injured and bloody.

Most of the league had gone with Shigaraki through Kurogiri’s portal, but there’s no telling if someone had stayed. Especially that specific villain with an invisibility quirk.

He had proven to be a rather difficult enemy because of his quirk, but realizing he was outnumbered, he hadn’t showed himself at all. No one saw him walk through Kurogiri’s portal either.

Bakugou shoved that concern to the back of his mind, he had other things to concern himself over. One of the biggest was, finding you.

He needed to apologize. The other night you and he got into a pretty big argument. All because of his anger issues and his pride.

But he couldn’t find you anywhere. Knowing your teleportation quirk.

You’d probably be helping other people around. Helping people deal with debris, transporting different things, and overall doing what you can to relieve any burdens from both the teachers and the students.

He wasn’t really focused on anything. He thought the battle was over. He just needed to find you.

He let his guard down.

He didn’t notice the invisible villain appearing once more to stab him from behind.

He didn’t notice until it was too late.

An ear-splitting scream broke the relatively quiet mood. He knew that scream.

He knew that voice.

His head snapped to the back and everything seemed to have slowed.

He remembered the panic and fear in your eyes. When he noticed the blade embedded in your heart, anger covered his senses.

Another yell resonated in the air. This time it was his own.

Bakugou’s hand went to the villain’s face and blasted them to somewhere he couldn’t even bother to care.

His arms caught your limp body from falling to the cold ground.

The world seemed to turn gray around him. The only thing he could see was your figure on his arms.

Blood pooling from your wound.

The anger that he felt just moments before was quickly replaced by fear.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT DUMBASS?!” the people around him froze.

You tried to mutter enough energy to at least say a word. Just a single word. “Sorry.” Your voice came in stutters. Followed by a cough of blood.

He felt your body in his hands growing heavier, your hand on his cheek fell to the ground.

“DUMBASS WAKE UP!!!” he didn’t know if it was the shock of the surprise attack or the fear that made his voice crack. “WAKE UP OR I’LL NEVER COOK YOU FOOD AGAIN.”

Your eyes were wide open, but they were cold, empty, unresponsive.

He let tears flow down freely. Now clutching your body against his chest.

“No please.” He wrapped his arms around your body one arm below the stab and another from the bottom, above the stab. “Please teddy bear. I’m sorry ok? I’m sorry. This is enough payback for the shit I said to you last night. So please ok? Please wake up.”

A few of your classmates already a sobbing mess on the ground.

“Please teddy bear, the prank is over. Please… wake up…” Kirishima’s hand on his shoulder broke his trance.

He looked up at his standing friend.

Kirishima saw the sight of his usual angry, stubborn, brave friend, turn weak. Tears were already pouring from Kirishima’s eyes. But he needed to be strong.

It wasn’t his place to breakdown when his best friend had lost the only person who was brave enough of taking the challenge of calming the beast.

“I’m sorry Bakubro.” Kirishima shook his head.

That was the thing that made Bakugou finally realize, you were gone. He screamed up to the sky, cursing whatever God had decided you’d sacrifice your own life for his. He was frustrated he couldn’t protect you.

Kirishima looked around, and he saw how much his classmates cared about him.

No one dared to move or utter a sound above a stifle of cries. No one knew how to react. For the first time in UA history, a student has died in the school’s premise. And that student, was you.

Though Kirishima couldn’t see all of his classmates. He was sure they’d be equally as devastated to hear what had happened. You were such an important part in their lives. To have yours be stripped away that easily was shocking.

You were a ball of sunshine that brought joy no matter what you were feeling or where you were.

But now you lie on the ground, cold.

That night, the entire class was reminded of the hard truth of being as self-sacrificing as you were. You’d sacrifice your sleep to tutor Denki. You’d sacrifice resting your aching muscles just to make everyone’s favourite dishes for dinner.

Now, you’ve sacrificed your life for your lover’s.

He wiped the clear frame from dust and took a closer look at it.

You took it the morning before the argument. It was breakfast and for some reason, you were awake as early as him, for the first time in forever.

You had one of your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. A bright smile decorated your face as you looked at the camera. Bakugou on the other hand looked to the side with a scowl on his face.

He remembered, after taking that photo. You kissed his cheek and uttered a sweet good morning before making your own breakfast. You didn’t miss the pink hue that decorated his cheeks. Your teasing giggles filled the room.

God, the things he’d give up just to hear your giggles again.

“You’ll never get hurt as long as I’m around.”

“Shut up dumbass, you won’t get hurt. I’ll protect you.”

“I won’t let anyone harm you.”

Those were just some promises he had made to himself and to you.

But now, here he was regretting the fact that his very last conversation with you was a useless back and forth of insults.

If he could turn back time and sacrifice himself, he would.

Bakugou placed the frame down and opened his phone, hoping for some sort of distraction. He wasn’t ready to completely face it yet. Though, everything online only fuelled his self-loathing

There were articles everywhere about how the number one hero Ground Zero otherwise known as Katsuki Bakugou, had saved the lives of thousands of people by cracking a giant drug market.

They all praised him. They all agreed he deserved the spot.

But did he really?

He didn’t think that such a title can be for him. Someone who broke all the promises he ever made to you.

How could he be the number one hero when the only person who was able to control him whilst loving him unconditionally died because of him.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha #mha angst #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugou x you

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

✨ Seven days of:

Day #3.

✨ REQUEST: Request for El Presidente 😁 I've been thinking of this idea: Maybe Bishop is trying to flirt with the reader but we all know he's flirty with most women so the reader doesn't think much of it until they are at a party and “...How long has he been flirting with me?” another mayan: “Only the entire time.” [ I hope you haven't written something like this. I love you 💖]

✨ MADE BY: @ocetevasgirl

WORDS: about 1.9k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

“C'mon, dance with me”.

The whisper into your ear takes you by surprise, producing you some shivers down your spin. Turning around, you frown to El Presidente. Being insistent as fuck is a personality and it's his.

“Ay, ya, Obispo. I can't believe Vicki is running out of girls to flirt with”. Rolling your eyes, you have a drink from your beer.

“Have I told you how good my name sounds in your lips?” He replies not caring a shit about what you have said. “Vamos... You never dance with me”.

“Yeah, and today is not gonna be the day it changes”. Palming his chest with your free hand, you raise both eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Because I ain't a number on your list. It's called self-love”.

“Who said I want you to be a number?”

Rolling your eyes, you can't believe that he's denying the fact that he flirts with you the whole time. You like him, and you have been about to fall into his claws a lot of times, but then you see him with another girl sitting on his lap, or clinged to his arm. The deception is bigger every time.

“Why don't you give up at damn once?”

Not giving him the opportunity to respond, you pass him away with a loud snort. Getting out of the clubhouse, you're able to have a deep breath of fresh air closing your eyes, guiding after that your steps to the sofa on the porch. Resting your feet over the wooden fence and lying back against your seat, trying to keep blank your mind. The silence outside helps you more than you could think, only being broken by the crickets around you and the bonfire in the middle of the yard.

You aren't sure when he started to act like that. At the beginning of meeting you he was kind, respectful and sweet. But bit by bit, you started to see his intentions. Being aware that the only thing he wants from you is a one night-stand. It's painful, even if you don't want to recognize it, because you were feeling something. Something good. Until he changed. Then it turned into sarcasm and rage. Every time that you turn him down, he finds his way to one of those bitches who are always in the club, cheering the view. And of course it's not their fault, but maybe if they weren't there, things would be different.

“Can I sit?”

Taza claims your attention with a soft tone of voice, pointing with a hand to the empty seat by your side. Showing him a fleeting smile, you nod in silence. As soon as he sits down, the man places his free arm over your shoulders to urge you to rest your head on his.

“What's happening inside that beautiful mind, ah?”

“You already know it”.

He draws an oh in his lips, before chuckling shaking his head.

“He's really in love with you”.

“No, he's not. And, god, please! Don't take his side”.

“I would never lie to you, chamaquita. The problem resides in that he doesn't know how to show it properly. You're the whole time kicking his ass and he's desperate for opening your eyes”. That sounds like a possibility. Like a valid one. “Why don't you give him a chance? We have closed a deal that has given us a lot of privileges. He's happy and he only wants to celebrate it with y—”.

The main door opening interrupts your conversation, seeing the crew abandoning the club.

“We're going to Vicki's, you comen'?” Coco asks, having a smoke.

Taza looks at you, arching a brow, but you shake your head getting up.

“Do you want me to ride you home?”

“Nah, don't worry. I will walk, so I can… clear my mind”.

Placing a kiss on your forehead, the older joins his brothers as you come inside the club. The silence is installed all around, once the buzz of the engines disappear through the scrapping. You were wanting to stay a little more, because you don’t have any other plans for tonight than this. And you’re not in the mood to come back home, so you are thinking about finding a bar to drink, even if it means to be alone.

When you’re about to grab your jacket from a chair, the crash between two pool balls calls your attention. Turning around with the piece of clothing covering your forearms, you find Bishop standing up from the table with a cig in his lips. You can see him pretending normality with his eyes focused on his own game. Not understanding why he hasn’t gone to Vicki’s place, you’re starting to think that maybe he did on purpose. Pressing the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue, you can’t help but contain a laugh by showing up a smile.

“Need a partner?”

Having a smoke and swallowing it before spitting it, the mexican turns to a side to grab another stick and offer it to you in silence. So, that’s a yes. Putting your jacket back on the chair and leaving on the poker table your phone, you two start a new game after placing all the balls forming a triangle. Bishop gives you some space, resting his back against the wall, to see how you break the formation with an accurate hit sneaking a striped red ball into a hole, in the middle of the pool. It’s the first time he plays against you, and he isn’t sure that he has seen you playing before. But he knows that it’s going to be an interesting game. Holding his stick between both of his legs under your attentive gaze, El Presidente takes off the clock in his right wrist and the ring from the same hand.

“Since when are we competing?” Tossing a loud laughter, you place both hands over the tip of your stick, resting your chin there.

“If I win, you will give me a kiss”. Bishop sounds very convinced of beating you, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt under the kutte. And you know he’s going to play hard, when he also takes off the leather garment to put it away.

Licking your bottom lip, squinting at him you offer him a hand to accept the deal.

“If you lose, you will stop with this… flirt, or whatever it is”.

At first, he doubts. You’re not stupid, you know that he will never stop flirting with you, but for a moment, you doubt too. Until he finally shakes your hand firmly, secure of himself.

Ball against ball, striped and smooth, they all end up falling through the different holes of the pool table. When the only one left is the number eight, you notice the tension installed between both. It’s your turn and Bishop is expectant, making you feel nervous with that grin contained under his black moustache. Leaning over the table with your gaze focused on the tip about to hit the ball, you calculate the exact way it has to take. Pulling it back, you move it forth with a fast move to beat the eight. Straight to the hole, bouncing against the wooden wall and coming back to the table.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Bishop breaks into laughs, not being able what just happened. It was inside the hole and that motherfucking ball didn’t fall through it.

“YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME! I WON! IT WAS INSIDE IT!”

Screaming like a madwoman and pointing at the pool with a hand, you turn at him. The man is running out of air, choking in laughs and almost arching back his body.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, estúpido”. Palming his shoulder with more strength than you wanted to use, he complains this time. “I’m not playing anymore, I won”.

“You didn’t”. The man leans over the table, doing exactly your same moves, but having more lucky than you.

“I’m not gonna fucking kiss you”.

“Sweetheart, how many times you can say fucking in a sentence?”

“Every two fucking words”.

Chuckling and taking off from your hands the stick, he places it in the holder close to his.

“I’m going to be a good man, and let you kiss my face wherever you want”.

Taking your right hand, Bishop pushes you into his arms, wrapping with them your waist. And even if for a moment you want to put up some resistance, deep inside you being hugged by him is everything you want. There’s still a couple inches of distance between both when you toss your hands on his shoulders respectively, rolling your eyes as if you were feeling uncomfortable. Leaning forward, you press your lips on his cheek. The fucking longer two seconds of your life. But if you were thinking that this would be enough for him, it isn’t.

Bishop embraces you tightly against himself, making you feel warm and loved for the first time in your life. It’s not only the gesture, but what he is transmitting you with it. Now you’re believing what Taza has told you almost an hour again. And you don’t reply with a single word, when he starts to kiss your face with such dearly touches, as he speaks.

“I want you —one on your neck— to be mine —another going up to the line of your jaw— and only mine —the last one close to the corner of your lips—, why don't you believe me?”

His facial hair makes you some tickles, provoking you a long shiver that bristles your skin. There’s no distance between you two, guiding your steps backwards until your body meets the pool table. His mouth is coming closer to yours, tasting the waters just in case that you really want to push him away. But you don’t. You don’t do it, closing your eyes as soon as he presses his lips against yours.

You can taste the flavor of beer and smoke in his saliva, not being disgusting for you, with your fingers getting placed at both sides of his neck; caressing with the tips of them his short beard. The heat is starting to burn down your heart barriers, transforming your doubts and insecurities into ashes.

Pulling away your faces from each other, when you are running out of air, Bishop urges you to sit on the edge of the pool table as he makes his way to between your legs. And there’s a detail that catches your whole attention. He’s not hard. You’re sure that if he does the same moves with one of Vicki’s girl, or any man with any woman he just wants to fuck with, he would be already hard. Quite the opposite, El Presidente is only focused on showing you that you’re more than a night-stand for him.

“Will you give me an opportunity?”

“Just one”. You highlight, bringing your eyes to the darkest ones.

“As if I needed more than one, querida”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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jinxxedwammys · 3 years

Note

Ok hear me out. I’ve listened to “Sway with me (slowed)” by Cytus II and I have this whole imagine of the reader at a masquerade ball as an undercover agent, and as The Wammy Bois (preferably L or Near) S/O or crush. Well the situation turns for the worst and L (or near) rushes out into the party (he was originally watching on cams) to get a hold of the situation to either like confront the Bad Guy or just protect the reader. Idk I think about it when I listen to the song. Love your writing btw

Aww thanks anon, I'm glad you like my writing! And damn, I like this one a lot! This calls for a fic. Thanks for requesting! (Not me accidentally making this somewhat like that ball scene in Black Butler.. oof)

For this I chose L and decided not to do Near, I hope that's okay.

Warnings: Mentions of human trafficking, Main antagonist being a creep, daggers.

(Image from some wallpaper site and very lightly and badly edited with befunky)

The night was young, the sun had only just set below the horizon plunging the city into darkness. At 8PM this night there was a masquerade ball at a very wealthy businessman's mansion. As all the high society guests exited their limousines and luxury cars escorted by servants you stood staring at the lavish mansion.

"I feel so out of place here... Do I really blend in enough?" You quietly asked Watari who stood beside you as your "servant". You shifted uncomfortably and looked to him for an answer.

"Yes, of course you do. You fit in very well. Please do not worry, I'm sure you will be alright in there." He bowed before reentering the drivers seat of the vehicle you'd arrived in. You took a deep breath before carefully ascending the marble stairs leading to he door. Before you could be noticed by anyone in particular, you placed the earpiece you had been provided in your ear disguising it with your hair.

Unlike the other guests, tonight wasn't about enjoyment or entertainment for you. You were assisting with an investigation into one of the high class men attending this party known as Daniel Grant. He had been suspected of human trafficking, though it seems he had been doing more than just that. A recent investigation by the private investigator known only to the public as L suggested that he may potentially be behind multiple murders in the area. As it happens, you were the lynchpin in solving this case and getting the evidence needed to put Daniel Grant and all involved behind bars.

He seemed to target young people between the ages of 18 and 25. As it happens, you were perfect for that role. You were also a police officer. So only two weeks ago, you had been asked to assist the one and only L. Of course, when he contacted you, you were overjoyed. Finally, something more interesting than petty crime! But now, as you entered the lavish mansion you were far less confident than you were when you initially joined.

You knew L was watching the camera feeds from the CCTV system, but it still didn't calm your nerves. You nervously approached the table where the guest sign in book was placed, carefully signing your alias. Then you made your way to the ballroom where the party was held. You took a deep breath and adjusted your mask before entering into the room.

Inside, everyone was chatting amongst themselves every single person dressed very formally, women in beautiful ballgowns, men in fancy suits. Every single one wore a masquerade mask, some plain and simple, some adorned with gemstones, lace and other ornate designs. Everyone went silent when one man tapped his glass with a fork.

"Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you for attending tonight. Thank you all for celebrating my niece's 20th birthday with us" He motioned to a young girl blonde girl wearing a dark pink dress with a black lace mask. Everyone gave a short applause in response. "Please enjoy yourselves" He bowed slightly. You hadn't known this was a birthday party beforehand. You wondered what Daniel Grant had to do with this girl. About 20 minutes into the party, you decided to check in with L as you hadn't heard a thing from him since you arrived. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

"L are you listening?" You asked quietly and waited for a response.

"Yes, I am, is anything wrong?" He asked. You shook your head before you realized he couldn't see you right now, there were no cameras in the bathroom.

"N..No, I haven't seen Daniel yet either... I was just making sure you were there." you hurriedly replied.

"Mmh, I'll guide you to him if you would like, I can see him on the cameras." He replied clearly eating something.

"Okay, please do!" You left the bathroom and reentered the ballroom doing your best to hide the fact that you were scanning the room for the suspect. L's voice came over the earpiece again, this time instructing you to look for a woman in an emerald green dress near the center of the room. You entered the crowd of guests. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the woman L had been talking about. She was in fact talking to Daniel Grant. They seemed to know each other. You stayed back, waiting for L to say something.

"Seems like you found them, stay back for a little while, I'll tell you when to approach" He said. You of course didn't respond since you were surrounded by others in earshot. You casually checked your pockets and approached another guest making small talk to kill time. You had taken your eyes off of him for a second, and the moment you looked back, the niece was talking to him. L seemed to notice as well.

"Daniel is currently talking to an important innocent. Please intervene now." You looked around the room before casually approaching the two.

"Hello, I came to wish you a happy birthday!" You said, sort of putting yourself between them. She nodded, thanking you and went back to talking with Daniel. You sighed in annoyance, but persisted.

"Hey, could you by any chance show me to the washroom? I've been looking for it and I just can't find it" You asked. She looked at Daniel, excusing herself from their conversation before leading you to said washroom.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you... Oh.. and I think it would be best if you stayed away from that man." She gave you a quizzical look.

"Why is that? He's one of my mother's friends." She asked. You were kind of shocked. Another detail L had left out. You questioned if he trusted you before ultimately banishing the thought. Of course he trusted you. You wouldn't be the one confronting the guy if he didn't.

"Just trust me, he's no good" You warned. It was clear that she didn't take your words seriously whatsoever. She scoffed and left. Now what? You wondered. And just like that, L's voice came through again.

"I want you to talk to him, try your best to get him away from her." Immediately you left the bathroom and made your way back to the ballroom again. By now, there were a few people dancing. Unfortunately Daniel seemed to be one of them, but you had a plan. Dance your way to him! You started off with a tall man with a purple tie, then to an average height lady in a light blue dress, then a lady with a fuchsia pink dress, and so on until finally, you were dancing with Daniel.

"You're the person who rudely interrupted my lovely conversation with the guest of honor" He observed. His voice was cold, though there was a tinge of intrigue.

"And what of it?" You sort of snapped. He smirked, it sent chills up your spine. You backed away slightly, but he closed the distance.

"Oooh, I like them feisty" He growled into your ear. You couldn't help your face twisting in disgust at that.

"Why don't we go... somewhere more private" He suggested. It was then that L's voice came on through your earpiece.

"Go with him, I want to see what he'll do" You gulped. You really didn't want to go anywhere with that creep. But L's orders... You nodded and Daniel led you upstairs. You both stood in front of a bedroom door. He opened it, directing you to go inside. As you did, his eyes seemed to undress you. It was then that he took out a dagger holding it to your neck.

Meanwhile, L sat in his temporary investigation headquarters observing your actions. He had just stuck a piece of cake in his mouth when you had been attacked. He had not expected Daniel to be armed. You were in grave danger and he knew it. He immediately stood up, the fork clattered to the ground and the plate the cake had been on shattered as it hit the floor. He didn't care.

"Y/N, hang in there, I'll be there soon" he quickly said to you before rushing to get Watari and speed off to the party. The car ride seemed to take forever. Every second of it, he watched and listened. Daniel seemed to be just threatening you for the time being, but at any second, he might just kill you. The very second they arrived, L clumsily jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to the manor, past the guards outside and up another flight of stairs to where you were.

L had for the first time in his life, brought a gun in case things got even more ugly, but he doubted he'd need it. Daniel didn't seem like the type to be bold enough to kill in front of another person. Even so, he gripped the gun before entering.

"Let them go!" L commanded. Daniel's head snapped in his direction.

"Get out, this is none of your business" Daniel said, turning back to you.

"It is my business, that happens to by my significant other you have there." You blinked. Significant other? Is he acting? You thought before mentally reprimanding yourself for thinking that now. L moved a little closer.

"Oh.... She is... I'm sorry" Daniel backed away. It was kind of comical how he looked like a scolded dog. You stood up and walked towards L, glancing back a few times at Daniel to ensure he wasn't going to get violent again. And without another word, L led you out of the manor to safety. Though there was one question burning in your chest. When you were safely in the car you decided to voice it.

"L... Do you actually like me?" L turned to you, his expression was completely unreadable.

"Yes" He said almost monotonously. But that was good enough for you.

#death note #death note x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #short story

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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