#not from the MAT photoshoot but from around the same time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

here4theheartbreak · 3 years

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Warm Beach Afternoons (ksj + jjk)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Seokjin Genre: smut, PWP Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2.6k

Tags: smut, PWP, cockwarming, dirty talk, watersports, oral sex, Omorashi, rough oral, semi-public blowjobs, coming untouched, deepthroating

Summary: It's far too hot for any sort of nonsense, Jin thinks. Jungkook has other ideas.

A/N: Second Kinktober fic, day 4: cockwarming. This fic was inspired by this lovely piece of artwork.

The sun was boiling hot. Too hot to reasonably be outside, Jin figured. And he was determined to take every opportunity to bitch about it to anyone that would listen. The rest of the group ignored him, as they always did – disrespectful kids, he did something wrong raising them. The makeup noonas only laughed and offered him ice packs or cold water.

And of course, there was Jungkook – in a league of his own, set out to torture Jin at every turn. Jungkook heard Jin was overheating, and his priority became laying on the elder, leaping on him, hugging him, or otherwise smothering him, at every turn.

Not that Jin really minded. For as much as he’d complain about Jungkook, that young man had his heart locked away in that beautiful bunny smile. They hadn’t mean to get so involved. Jungkook was the baby of the group, he was the elder. He knew he should be taking care of Jungkook – and that didn’t mean stealing kisses from his perfect mouth or routinely railing him into the bed. But despite knowing he shouldn’t, Jin couldn’t help it. He’d found himself falling hard and fast for the golden child. The other members knew, but opted to look the other way; so long as they didn’t get themselves outed in some horrible way, it didn’t bother them.

Most of the time, they were careful. Jungkook was clingy with everyone, so nobody thought twice when he’d leap into Jin’s arms, or chose to crawl into his bed while on a trip somewhere. Even the fans thought it was oh so sweet and brotherly. Of course, there were whispers, usually from international fans, about what if, maybe they are – but nobody gave them much thought. It was harmless.

What wasn’t harmless was the current situation. Jin was trying his best to remain cool as they shot the last few photos from his group shot with Jungkook and Yoongi. However, every time the cameras paused – and a few times when they weren’t, Jin found himself with a very large, heavy, and hot Jungkook leaning on him.

He pushed his arms off for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, whining. “It’s too hot,”

“It’s not that bad,” Jungkook complained. He back hugged Jin once more, blowing cool air on the back of his neck. Jin gritted his teeth, hating how nice it felt.

“Just a few more in the lifeguard seat,” the cameraman said, clearly mistaking Jin’s expression for annoyance. “Then you three can relax. We’ll shoot a little further down with the other four.”

“Sounds good,” Yoongi said. “That spot of shade is calling my name.”

Jin chuckled. “Agreed. You go first,” he offered, motioning his head to the lifeguard stand a few feet away. Yoongi headed for it, crawling into it and settling in for the photos. Jungkook went next, and Jin took a moment to shake the fabric from his skin, sticky with his sweat – and Jungkook’s.

Jin climbed into the stand last, working with the photographer to take the photos he needed to take. When the man finished, Jin slumped down in the chair, closing his eyes and letting the sun beat down over his skin.

“Gonna get a sunburn,” Jungkook scolded. Jin opened his eyes, looking down. Jungkook was climbing up the lifeguard stand, effectively pinning him there.

“Then let me get down, I’ll join Yoongi in the shade.”

“Nope,” Jungkook leaned forward, going nearly nose to nose with Jin. Jin pulled his head back, glancing over to make sure they were alone.

“Jungkook,” he warned.

“I’m horny,” Jungkook said softly.

Jin’s eyes widened. “When did you become so damn brazen.”

“We’ve been so busy working on the photoshoots for the single… You haven’t let me touch you in days.” Jungkook leaned on the stand, forcing Jin to open his legs or have his knees crushed by Jungkook’s weight. Jungkook slid his palms up Jin’s bare legs, squeezing his thighs under his shorts. “I miss you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jin whispered, relaxing a little at Jungkook’s firm, steady touches. His eyes fluttered shut. “We’ll play together tonight, okay?”

“What about right now?” Jungkook offered. Jin felt him shift and opened his eyes, surprised to see Jungkook climbing down. His hopes for freedom and relaxation were dashed, however, when Jungkook stopped a few feet lower, his torso still against Jin’s legs. He palmed Jin’s cock through his shorts, meeting his gaze. “We have time.”

“We don’t,” Jin argued, gasping a little when Jungkook squeezed.

“We can make time. I can hurry.”

“It’s far too hot for this,” Jin complained even as Jungkook pulled his cock from his swim trunks.

“Drink some water then.”

Jin swore softly, chuckling. “Also, we’re gonna get caught.”

“Doing what?” Jungkook asked, his eyes wide and innocent. “I’m just playing with my hyung on the lifeguard tower,” he leaned forward, sliding Jin’s half hard cock into his mouth.

Jin jerked forward, grabbing Jungkook’s back. Jungkook took him the rest of the way in his mouth, reaching up to grab Jin’s back. He knew, from where the rest of the crew was, it did probably look like they were just wrestling.

The only problem was that Jungkook wasn’t even sucking. No, he was holding Jin’s cock in his perfect mouth, only moving his tongue every now and again. Even as Jin swelled to full hardness, Jungkook remained still. Jin pinched his side.

“Come on, hurry up and make me come,” he hissed, watching the others frolic down the beach.

Jungkook pulled his mouth off Jin’s cock with an obscene pop, his lips wet. “Come? I’m not blowing you.”

“Then what’s your face doing on my crotch?”

Jungkook smirked. “I thought your cock was cold. I’m warming it for you. I can’t make you come, we’re in public.”

Jin gritted his teeth. Jungkook grinned and slid his mouth back over Jin’s cock, nuzzling down as far as he could.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Jin hissed. “I’m pounding your ass tonight for this.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes up. He pressed his tongue up, applying pressure to Jin’s cock. At the same time, he let his teeth graze dangerously over the sensitive shaft, and Jin’s eyes rolled back.

“Be careful,” he growled. Jungkook moved his teeth back, his lips curving into a smirk around Jin’s cock. The little shit knew exactly what he was doing.

No matter how Jin tried to move, to stimulate any part of his cock, Jungkook remained still, entirely relaxed. It wasn’t as if they were atop a lifeguard stand with their entire group and about twenty crew members a few hundred feet away.

Jin was in agony. This was worse than edging; he was sweating, turned on, and desperate. Yet, the lack of stimulation - and ever constant stimulation - of Jungkook’s mouth had his cock in a state of half hard, half soft. Jungkook’s mouth was warm and wet and comfortable…

Jin hissed. “Let me go,” he panted. “JK, I gotta piss.” He pushed at Jungkook.

Jungkook looked up at him. He winked. Instead of moving, he closed his lips more firmly around Jin’s cock and shifted. One hand slid down, and he pressed hard on Jin’s lower belly, not breaking eye contact with Jin. Jin’s throat closed when he realized what Jungkook was getting at.

“N— Here?” Jin panted. He and Jungkook had played with piss a little, but never in public. Not that he was opposed… Frankly the idea had his heart racing. He looked back down the way at their group and then to Jungkook. “You sure?”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared. He nodded as well as he could, shifting just a little. He buried his fingers in Jungkook’s shaggy purple hair, leaning forward just a bit. A few drops came first, and the thought of them landing on Jungkook’s tongue nearly made him moan. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warm, wet, tight feeling of Jungkook’s mouth. He willed his bladder to release, pushing away thoughts of arousal flooding in.

There it was. A spurt of piss first, and then a gush. And there, a full, steady stream. He could hear Jungkook gulping rapidly, and feel the warm piss filling his mouth. It was pooling around the base of his cock as Jungkook struggled to swallow it down. The amount of water he’d drunk throughout the day was coming in handy, he realized. He looked down, meeting Jungkook’s gaze.

He was tearing up, his nostrils flaring as he breathed between gulps of Jin’s release.

“Cockwarmer, huh?” Jin whispered. “Looks like what I actually have here is a nice, portable urinal, isn’t that right?”

Jungkook’s eyelids fluttered shut. Jin laughed softly, stroking his cheek. “Almost done, baby. Keep swallowing for me… Fuck, Jungkook. Drink it all.”

Jungkook gave a full body shudder, his fingers tightening on Jin’s lower back.

Jin pulled his cock back slowly as his stream ended, letting Jungkook swallow the last bit of piss. He opened his mouth when he was done, showing Jin his proof.

“Good boy,” Jin murmured. He tried to tuck himself away but Jungkook made a noise of annoyance.

“I was a good cockwarmer and urinal,” he whined. “Don’t I get a treat?”

Jin glanced at the others. “They’re about done.”

“And you’re hard already and always come fast after you piss. I can do it.” Jungkook smirked. “Wanna know something that’ll speed things along?”

Jin raised an eyebrow. Jungkook shifted, standing up a little higher on the ladder of the stand. Jin could see the front of his shorts, tented from his own erection. Jungkook pulled Jin’s cock free and kissed the tip and looked up at Jin. “Slide your hand in the front of my shorts.”

Jin shifted, sliding his hand down gently, past Jungkook’s tight stomach, the tie of his trunks, the soft, curly mat of his pubic hair…

“Oh...” Jin breathed, his cock throbbing. “Is that…”

Jungkook grinned. “I came in my trunks while you were pissing in my mouth.”

Jin moaned softly. He ran his hand over Jungkook’s cock, feeling the slick squish of his come, clinging to his skin and hair.

Jungkook sank down on his cock, his shoulders heaving a little when the tip bumped his throat. He began to suck and swallow, barely moving his head. Jin grunted behind closed lips, playing with Jungkook’s come covered cock. It was a secret between them, this kink. If it was a kink. An association, really.

The night that Jin took Jungkook’s virginity, they began with foreplay. Which turned into Jungkook sucking Jin’s cock; not a bad arrangement if Jin could say so himself. Jungkook had been in his jockey shorts at that point. And, in his ever so eager way, ended up coming prematurely, spilling his release in his shorts. Though he’d been embarrassed, Jin had never been more turned on in his life. He’d come so hard he saw spots just from Jungkook’s mouth on his cock, and his hand down the from of his come filled shorts. From that point on, Jungkook filling his underwear with a surprise load of come was the quickest way to get Jin to orgasm; and Jungkook was good at it. Jin was starting to wonder if the guy could come on command with how easily he came in his shorts during foreplay, even after all these years. It wasn’t that he was always premature; having sex, Jungkook could go for hours sometimes. But if the mood struck… It happened.

Jin whined softly. Jungkook was mouthing along his cock perfectly. “So dirty, JK,” he teased. “Filled your trunks with all this come… And not even being touched. You squirted while your hyung was making you drink his piss. So, so dirty.”

Jungkook pulled off Jin’s cock with a wet pop. He began to stroke him in short, fast strokes. “Can’t help it,” he panted. “I just love your cock… Being your cockwarmer made my dick so hard. I was wishing you could just lay me in the sand and ruin my asshole, right there… And then you started pissing, I couldn’t help but get so much hotter. It tasted so good and it makes my belly feel full and warm, I just had to let a load go.”

Jin shuddered, his orgasm nearing. He pulled his hand free and licked the come from it, earning a happy little gasp and sigh from Jungkook.

“Well, I’ll need to punish you tonight,” Jin murmured.

“What will you do?”

“I think I’ll need to pound your ass… Make you scream loud enough all our members hear.”

Jungkook’s eyes rolled back. He nodded quickly.

“And maybe after,” Jin muttered, “I’ll leave another round of piss in there, make you plug it up and hold it until your stomach hurts.”

Jungkook whined and nodded again. “Please, hyung…”

“We’ll see,” Jin murmured. “Swallow it again, I’m close.”

He pushed Jungkook’s head down, sighing happily when Jungkook took his cock to the root. A few quick bobs of his head and a few swipes of Jungkook’s expert tongue, and Jin was coming, spilling hot ropes of come into his soft mouth.

Jin felt his entire body relax, the tension draining out of him with each spurt. “Perfect,” he sighed.

Jungkook pulled off him with a pop and tucked him away. “They’re coming,” he whispered.

Jin straightened up and grabbed Jungkook, shifting their posture to look like they were wrestling on the seat as the others neared.

“You’re going to fall,” Namjoon called as he approached.

“He’s trying to smother me,” Jin complained. Jungkook popped his head up, shaking it to try and fix his hair.

“I’m just making sure you’re cozy, the breeze from the water might be cold.”

“Troublemaker,” Jin grumbled. Jungkook laughed and crawled down the ladder. Jin glanced down, relieved to see his crotch was not showing any bulges or wet spots. The makeup girl rushed up, fixing his hair without question; she was used to fixing mistakes from their wrestling on shoots. Jin crawled down as well, watching Jungkook from afar. He wondered what she’d say if she knew that mess of Jungkook’s pretty hair was from Jin’s hands, pulling and tugging. Or the slightly smeared lip color was because his lips were around Jin’s cock… She wouldn’t be happy, that’s for sure.

Jungkook glanced over, meeting Jin’s gaze and offering a sweet smile as she fixed his makeup. The photographer was talking about the last few group shots, but Jin could barely pay attention. One word he heard for sure though, was water.

“We get to play in it?” Jin asked, perking up immediately.

The photographer thought for a moment and nodded. “Sure, I think that would be cute photos perhaps. But we’ll do that last, so if you guys get your outfits wet, it won’t be a big deal.” Jin nodded. He leaned over a little, allowing the makeup girl to fix his hair and face when she came at him.

They set to work after, finishing up the beach shoots and heading to the ocean. Jin tried not to keep staring at Jungkook, but it was impossible. He did, however, try not to notice (at least visibly) when Jungkook made sure to go at least waist deep into the water, inconspicuously shifting to make sure his trunks were well soaked in the crotch area.

As the shoot wrapped up and they dried off and changed back into their normal clothing. And, of course, as was the pattern, Jungkook took that opportunity to drape himself over Jin, warming every inch of his body that he could reach. But Jin didn’t complain this time. This time he leaned into it, savoring Jungkook’s embrace. Pesky or not – Jungkook was his happiness, and he’d never trade a second of time with him for anything else in the world.

#thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #jinkook #seokjin x jungkook #jungkook x seokjin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jin x jungkook #jungkook x jin #mywriting

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barzzal · 3 years

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Can you write something about barzy dating a model and due to the industry she’s super insecure and he reassures her and let’s her know her worth and stuff ?:)

“babe, come on. we’re gonna be late.” mat calls from the living room, tending to his curls as he finishes dressing himself up for the night out the team has agreed upon later that day.

he looked over the hallway when he didn’t hear another “five minutes!” from you. something that he’s gotten used to automatically mean that you still needed an hour or two.

“baby-” the sight of you sitting on the bed all dressed up and ready, scrolling through your phone intensely, cuts off whatever he was about to say.

“i’ll be out in a minute.” you fail to mask the roughness of your voice, accompanied by a sniff that was loud enough for mat to hear.

he didn’t need you to say a word for him to catch on what was going on. the iridescent logo of the gram flashes on your screen, one that’s far too familiar for him to mistake it for another tedious social app.

your work is everything you have ever dreamt of since you were a kid and now that you get to do what you love most, seeing unnecessary hateful comments on your latest magazine cover was just enough to strip all the hardwork you’ve put in for years in the industry.

you hear mat sigh, his hand caressing your back instantly as he sits beside you, “you know none of those are true, right?”

you quickly wipe the lone tear that successfully escaped your already burning eyes, “mat, it’s not just about that.”

if only you had looked up at mat, you’d be able to see how tough it was for him to see you hurting. he hated nothing more than seeing you doubt yourself. he has seen you do your thing countless of times and not once did he ever feel that you were unfit for the job. you didn’t fall short of how great you actually are whenever he watches you strut down the runway, or pose for a ton of photoshoots that had do be done in a day.

mat has never seen anyone who had the same passion as you at what you do and he hated the fact that comments such as the ones you have already read were able to take the light in your eyes within a snap.

he carefully takes your phone from your hands, putting it on ‘do not disturb’ for the rest of the night.

“y/n,” he calls your name, which has easily made your gut turn because mat never calls you by your name anymore. “look at me.” he orders in a tone that was more of a gentle request.

you were ashamed to be seen like the mess you are right now. you just wish all the crying you did hadn’t ruined your make up entirely because it’d be a shame to walk around new york alongside long island’s hockey superstar with a smudged and runny mascara all over your face.

you do as you’re told and look at him. you meet mat’s irises with a knowing look that you just reciprocated with an apologetic smile. you feel so small and a part of you hated that mat was home to see it.

“i’m sorry.” you apologize. something your boyfriend did not particularly approve of.

you feel mat’s hand rub on your shoulder comfortingly as he pulls you closer to his side, pressing a gentle kiss on the side of your head, “i have never thought i’d meet someone who looked at the camera and who walked on a runway, the same way i handle a puck.” he starts.

“baby, you are so much more than strangers’ words. i’ve seen you work your way to where you are now, and honest to god, i am— i’ve always been in awe of what you do and everything you put your heart into.”

“mat,” you fail to drive back the tears threatening to fall and let yourself sob in his arms, “i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything.” he says as he breaks off his hold of you, his hand moving away from your back and onto your hand that was just resting on your lap.

you watch how your fingers fit perfectly with each other’s, a smile finally creeping on your lips. mat takes your chin with his free hand, pressing a feather light kiss on your lips, “you just needed to know.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #barzzal blurbs

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inagetawaycarxo · 3 years

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Show Stopper | Adam Cole *NSFW*

❛❛ Ok well I'm a slut for smut so 😂😂 idk whether to do a tag team/title win with Adam or morning sex with him. What do you think? ❤❜❜- @lookalivesunshine-x

Pairings: Adam Cole x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Adam Cole, Y/n (Reader), Bobby Fish, Kyle O’Reilly, Roderick Strong, Ridge Holland, Pete Dunne, Mercedes Martinez

Summary: Adam and y/n are the first-ever mixed tag team champs in WWE. Adam rewards her for the pin.

WARNINGS: fighting, wrestling, smut, sex, celebration sex, errors I missed, questionable smut writing, oral (female receiving)

Word Count: 1773

A/N: Got an Adam Cole or WWE request? Send it in!

“Come on, y/n, you can do it,” Adam spoke. Trying to encourage you.

But Mercedes had you in a hold that you couldn’t get out of. No matter how hard you tried to reach your hand out to Adam, you never succeeded.

Adam tried to motivate you, stomping his foot. Motioning his arm up and down. the rest of the era boys motivation you.

Adam quickly slipped into the ring. Going over to Mercedes and you. shoving her off of you. Adam quickly rushed to your side. Checking to see if you were okay.

Mercedes glared at Adam. Ridge quickly got in the ring, going over to Adam, while Mercedes shoved Adam.

“Who do you think you are? Coming into the ring, and shoving me,” She yelled. Adam got up. Glaring at her.

“I’m Adam Cole, baybay,” He shouted. Giving her a cocky smile. While she glared at him. Adam didn’t realize that Ridge was coming over until it was too late. Ridge’s fist connected with Adam’s jaw, shocking Adam. Adam grabbed his jaw. Before he could crane his neck to look at Ridge. Ridge pushed him into the ropes. Sending Adam through the ropes, and onto the ground.

Kyle, Bobby, and Roddy quickly rushed to Adam’s side. Ridge got out of the ring. Striding over to Adam. The ref gave Kyle, Bobby, and Roddy a warning, as they held their hands up in front of them. Parting away from Adam. Ridge towered above Adam. Crouching slightly as he grabbed a fistful of Adam’s hair. Yanking him up by his hair. Adam uppercut Ridge. Making Ridge stumble back.

Mercedes was too invested in what was happing between Ridge and Adam not noticing that you were on your feet and behind her. You spun her around to face you. before she could react, you poked her in the eyes with your thumbs. Catching her off guard. She put her hands over her eyes. While Vic let out an Oh, and Barret just chuckled, praising you.

The ref turned around when you super kicked her. Making her fall on the mat. You quickly covered her. Grabbing behind her knee and lifting it. Putting all your weight on her, as well, as your elbow in her face.

The ref counted to three. Signalling the timekeeper to ring the bell.

“And the winner, and new mixed tag team champions, Adam Cole and Y/n, The Undisputed Era,” Alicia Taylor announced, as the Undisputed Era theme entrance came on.

Adam and the boys rushed into the ring. Going over to you. Adam wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Kissing the top of your head. The rest of the boys congratulating Adam and you.

“I love you, so much, I am very proud of you,” Adam beamed. Kissing your forehead.

“We did it,” You beamed. Craning your neck to look at him. Adam smiled proudly at you.

Roddy grabbed the mixed tag team championship belts off of the referee, giving the ref a cold stare. Roddy handed them to Adam, as the two of you got up.

Adam quickly put one of the mixed tag team championships around your waist, then put his mixed tag team championship around his waist. Grabbing your wrist and raising it in the air. Smiling proudly at you.

Kyle grabbed your other wrist, raising it. While Roddy went on Adam’s side holding his arm up.

“We told you,” Roddy yelled. As Bobby stood beside Roddy.

“That’s right,” Bobby responded.

Adam let go of your wrist, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you closer to his side. Kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

Kyle hugged your side, while Roddy and Bobby joined in. turning it into a group hug.

After a while of hugging, Adam, Bobby, Kyle, Roddy and you exited the ring and walked up the ramp.

Going through the curtains. Triple H, Shawn Michaels, and other crew members congratulate, Adam and you on the win.

It was all a blur, posing for photoshoots with the mixed tag team championships, and interviews, you were exhausted.

You fell onto the couch in the locker room you shared with the boys. Letting out a groan. Taking your wrestling boots off, as well as your socks.

Adam, huddled closer to Kyle, Bobby, and Roddy, whispering something to them in a low voice. You narrowed your eyes at them wondering what they were whispering about.

Kyle, Roddy, and Bobby looked over at you, smirks on their lips.

“We’ll see the both of you at the bar,” Kyle spoke. Smiling at you, as he walked out of the room. Roddy and Bobby winked in your direction, making you arch your eyebrow. Tilting your head, as you looked at Adam.

Adam locked the door. Turning around to face you.

“I’m so proud of you,” Adam spoke. Walking over to you. taking the tape off of his wrists.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you,” You responded.

Adam stood in front of you. smirking down at you. Your breath hitched, as he climbed on top of you. his hands cupping your jawline, as his lips pressed against yours passionately. Eyes fluttering closed.

“Let me reward you,” Adam spoke, as he pulled away from the kiss with every word. Making your breath hitch again.

Adam’s hands trailed down your body to your hips. Pressing his covered bulge against your pelvis. Making you let out a tiny moan, into the kiss. Getting wetter. An ache forming in your heat. Your fingers raking through his disheveled hair. Kissing each other feverishly.

Adam slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your booty shorts. Slowly pulling it down.

You gasped as you felt Adam’s index finger and middle finger slip inside of you. Head tilting back. You broke the kiss. Adam smirked. slipping his finger in and out of you, at a slow rate.

Leaving feverish kisses along your jawline, as he fingered you at a painstaking rate.

“Faster…Please…” You begged. Making Adam smirk against your jawline. Trailing kisses to your neck.

Sucking harshly leaving love bites on your neck. Your fingers gripping his hair tightly.

Adam fastened his pace, thrusting his index and middle finger in and out of your core. Your hands slipped away from his hair, going down to grip his shoulders. Mouth a gap. Eyes closed. As a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Adam trailed his lips down to your collarbone, leaving a litter of love bites on your collarbone. His free hand going down between where he and you were connected. Placing the pad of his thumb on your clit, rubbing your clit. Making you let out a loud moan. Toes curling. Adam smirked against your collarbone.

Slowing his pace. Making you whine. Adam trailed searing kisses up your neck, towards your earlobe.

“Your pussy feels so good. Your walls tightening around my fingers,” He purred into your ear.

Adam fastened his pace again. Bringing you closer to your orgasm.

Adam moaned into your ear. This caused you to orgasm. Body trembling as you came on his fingers. Walls tightening around his fingers. Eyes rolling to the back of your head. Toes curling. Adams hot breath fanning in your ear.

“Adam,” You moaned loudly.

Adam thrusted his fingers into you one last time before pulling his fingers out.

Adam pulled away, sitting in between your legs.

You watched him through glazed eyes, as he brought his two fingers that were coated in your cum up to his lips. Parting his lips, he put his index and middle finger in his mouth. sucking your cum off of his fingers, all the while looking at you with lust-filled eyes. Your breath hitched, as you clenched your thighs together, as a dull ache formed in between your legs. Adam smirked.

Taking his fingers out of his mouth. Adam stood up. Taking his trunks off. His cock sprung up. Your eyes wandering down to look at his cock. Clenching your thighs together tightly. Adam smirked, as he crawled on top of you. making your breath hitch. His eyes looking intently into your eyes.

His hands cupped your jawline. Lowering his head down to yours. Lips touching yours. Kissing you passionately.

One of Adam’s hands let go of your jaw gong down to grab his shaft. He aligned his tip with your entrance.

Adam entered you without so much as a warning. Penetrating into you. Making you let out a loud gasp then a loud moan.

Adam let out a loud moan, as your walls tightened around his cock.

Adam’s hands went to the bottom of your sports bra. Pulling it up, and over your head, discarding it to the side.

His hands grabbing your boobs. Groping them, as he thrusted in and out of you at a fast pace. Your hands gripped his back. Fingernails digging into his skin. Wrapping your legs around his waist. The back of your heels digging into his ass.

Both of you moaning loudly.

Adam pulled away from the kiss. Trailing kisses to your neck.

Adam buried his head into the crook of your neck. Sucking on the skin, as he fastened his thrusts.

Tilting your head back. Eyes squeezing shut, as waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Toes curling. Walls clenching around Adam’s cock. Making Adam grunt. Grabbing your boobs roughly.

Both of you getting closer to releasing.

“Come, babe,” Adam commanded into the crook of your neck,

Adam let go of one of your boobs, going down to were him and you were connected. Putting his thumb on your clit. Running your clit in circular motions.

This caused your orgasm to arise. intense waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Feeling the familiar sensation form in the pit of your stomach. Fingernails digging into his back.

Adam felt his climax coming with every thrust your walls tightened around his cock, he felt himself slowly coming closer to releasing.

“Adam,” You moaned. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, as you orgasmed. Adam climaxed the same time you released, your walls tightening around him was just too much. His cock convulsing as he spilled his warm seed inside of you.

Adam collapsed on top of you. still inside of you. His cock softening inside of you.

Adam pressed his sweaty body against your sweaty body. Breathing heavily. Trailing feather-light kisses along your neck then jawline.

“We should take a shower, and get dressed, then meet up with the boys,” You spoke through labored breath.

Adam smiled against your jawline.

“Or we could stay here and have round two?” Adam suggested. Making you smirk…

#wwe x reader #adam cole x reader #wwe smut #adam cole smut #wwe #adam cole

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

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2. Birthday Kisses

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 8.1k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: thank you for all the love on this story so far!!!! i’m so happy that so many of you are loving Y/N and Harry as much as me. shoot me messages about your thoughts and feelings - i want to hear them!!! xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Harry had spent days trying to figure out where to take Y/N for their date. She said he would get one date, and so he was going to make sure it counted. After speaking to his mum and Gemma, as well as James Corden because it’s always good to have a grown man’s opinion, and the entirety of his band. On James’s recommendation, he found a drive-in movie theater on the outskirts of LA. Perfect because it was simple, would allow them to talk, and most of all, it was private. He would drive his own car with the tinted windows and he wouldn’t even really have to talk to anyone. Y/N had made it perfectly obvious that she wasn’t interested in dating a musician, so Harry wanted to keep their date as low key as possible as a result—he wanted her to forget what his job was and just get to know him as a person.

Deciding what to wear for their date was possibly harder, though. Did he just wear jeans and t-shirt? A button down? It was January, so did he go for a sweater? He had Harry Lambert on FaceTime for two hours going through outfits before Lambert told him to just pick something comfortable and that he had to go to bed. So Harry settled on a black button down and black jeans—simple, but he felt good in it. Confident. And he thought he looked good too—he had been working out, partially for Dunkirk filming back in the 2016, but also just generally. Since the band had broken up he had had more time to actually dedicate to himself, and he enjoyed it. Before, exercise had always been something squeezed into the day on the road, him half exhausted and barely alive enough to focus, and now he had energy and the motivation. It was a completely different experience. (It also helped that the other guys weren’t distracting him the whole time.)

At five thirty, he drove over to Y/N’s place—she’d moved out of her dad’s house after the renovation a few days ago. She had told him over text and he had to admit, he felt honored that she had shared facts of her life over text with him after how hesitant she was to go on the date with him.

I’m here, he texted her when he pulled up outside her building. It was an older style but in a nice neighborhood, a light brown brick exterior and not too modern. Can I come up?

Sure, she answered, Just finishing getting ready. Apt. 3C

He pulled on sunglasses, his lame attempt at a disguise, and headed inside, entering the gate code she sent over. He bounded up the stairs, thankful for the exercise to keep his brain busy. If he had taken the elevator he would’ve just stood there panicking. A welcome mat sat outside her door saying Welcome Home! and he smiled at it before knocking softly on her door.

She opened it a few beats later, shoeless and only one earring in. “Hi,” her voice breathless. “Sorry I’m a mess still, come on in.”

“No problem,” he answered, stepping inside. “Shoes on or…?”

“On is fine,” she replied. “I’m not as anal about it as my Dad is.”

Harry nodded, leaving his shoes on, and glanced around her place. There were some things still in disarray, probably from the recent renovation, but all in all it looked perfectly lived in and homey. He missed London and his house, the feeling of having a home base and someplace that felt like his own. He liked the house he was renting for the time being, but it wasn’t his, the bed wasn’t as comfortable as his one in Hampstead, and he desperately missed his expensive blender for morning smoothies. “I like your place.”

Y/N glanced around the space before back at him. “Thank you. Um, make yourself at home? I’ll be just a few.” With that, she was gone into a bedroom, Harry left in the kitchen. He wandered into the living room and explored her bookcase. She had a great selection of stuff, everything from classics like Zora Neale Hurston to The Hunger Games, which Harry had secretly adored and read three times. The walls were laden with picture frames of her and friends from what seemed like her time in college—kegs and Halloween costumes featured prominently, as well as some with her friends at the beach. He tried not to think about her in a bikini for too long. There was also a framed sheet of paper and when he looked closer he realized it was the lyrics to her father’s most famous song, one which he realized was definitely about becoming a father to Y/N. He had listened to all of her father’s music in preparation for their songwriting session and this one was one of his favorites, the raw emotion in it breathtaking.

“Okay,” she aid, entering the doorway of her room. “I’m ready.” She had a different top, the soft purple chiffon falling in vents, swishing as she moved. A pair of loose but flattering denim jeans on her legs, black booties giving her a few more inches in height. A pale red lip and light eyeliner that made her brown eyes pop, the same kind that had been done on my own eyes for many a photoshoot. She looked perfect, gorgeous, like words he didn’t even have.

“You look…incredible,” he said, struggling to speak.

Y/N glanced down at her clothes and then back at him. “Uh, thank you. You too.”

Harry smiled at her and then nodded to the door. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

“You have’t even told me where we’re going!”

“It’s a secret.”

“I don’t want it to be a secret,” she said when they got in the elevator. Harry didn’t want to make her climb down stairs in her boots.

“Well, you’ll have to live,” Harry replied. He hoped she liked the date. If not, he was truly fucked.

When he pulled into the drive-in, Y/N laughed and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. It wasn’t too packed, it being a Wednesday night and all, so they were able to get a spot without too many cars around. He pulled the popcorn bags and bars of chocolate he had brought out from the backseat and handed her a bottle of water.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” She said, accepting the bottle with a smile. “What’s the film?”

“The Birds,” he replied, “hope that’s okay. I love Hitchcock and assumed everyone does, but if it’s not your cup of tea we can go—“

She shook her head at him, fingers coming to grip his thigh in a way that set his skin on fire. “It’s perfect. Love this film—Dad and I watched it together years ago and I’ve been meaning to re-watch.”

Harry smiled at her, settling back into his seat. “Candy or popcorn?”

“Popcorn definitely,” she answered, taking the back he handed her. “What about you? Sweet or salty?”

“Depends on the sweet.” He raised the chocolate bar. “This, for instance, is an always. But something like Dum Dums? No thank you.”

“Who even eats Dum Dums?”

Harry chuckled. “Not me.”

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Harry went to fiddle with the radio, turning the channel to match the one for the film. “I’m glad you persuaded me to come,” she said softly, voice barely audible above the sound from the radio as the previews started. “Been a while since I went on a date.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I’m happy you came,” he replied. Clearing his throat, he continued, “truth be told, I wanted to ask you out the moment I saw you. Mainly just to get to know you better. I also, honestly, loved how comfortable you were in the music scene—a lot of girls I’ve dated in the past aren’t and it becomes an issue.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s not the easiest for outsiders.” Before Harry could respond, the film started, and their attention was redirected to the massive screen in front of them.

Even though he was supposed to be watching the screen, his eyes kept flittering back to Y/N. Her side profile entranced him, the curl of her hair perfectly coiled—he wondered what products she used, maybe he should try them? Lou had been telling him to actually get a grip on his hair care routine, but most days lately he couldn’t be bothered. It’s not like he was doing press anyways. When Y/N gasped, hand reaching from the popcorn back to grip his thigh, he tensed and not from panic, but from desire. He wanted to kiss her lips, her lips with faded red lipstick from eating popcorn, her lips that curved up when she smiled and looked soft and utterly delicious.

When he saw she was fidgeting, not able to figure out where to place her legs, he snatched her ankles and dragged them over to his lap. It was a reflex and one that earned him a “What are you doing?” but when he started rubbing her calves in circles, a soft murmur left her mouth and she looked back to the film. Harry loved her feet in his lap, allowing him the ability to notice the daisy chain tattooed around her left ankle. A gasp tumbled into the car when he ran his finger along the skin, her eyes meeting his and suddenly the air in the car changed completely.

It was an hour into the film and other than brief conversation about the film, Y/N saying how much more fucked up it was than she remembered, it had been mostly silent. Harry wondered if she was as preoccupied with how much she wanted him as he was with how much he wanted her.

Then suddenly, her kicked off her boots so she was just in her socks, and with her eyes still on the screen, she rubbed her foot down on his dick. Harry let out a hiss, unable to process what was happening or the shiver that went up his back at the pressure. “Y/N,” he said in a warning. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, innocent as hell except for the smirk on her lips.

“You little minx.” He tossed her boots into the backseat and tickled the bottom of her feet, the squeak that left her mouth allowing him to feel like he’d gotten some form of revenge. “Bored or something?”

Y/N giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. “No, just interested in something else.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Harry trailed his fingers up her leg slowly, basking in the soft moan that filled the car. “Y/N, I really want to kiss you,” he said, not even fearing her response to the words. She’d started it. He wanted to finish it.

Y/N looked back at him, eyes finally leaving the screen. “Then kiss me,” she said bluntly and Harry didn’t waste another second. He leaned over the center console and tugged Y/N to him with his fingers at the back of her neck and when their lips met Harry kicked himself for not doing this earlier. Her lips were soft, just like he’d thought, and salty from the popcorn, a butter sheen making them delectable. Her fingers wound through his hair, tugging gently, a hiss falling from his mouth and into hers. He ignored the crink in his neck from the position and instead focused on the way Y/N pressed soft kisses to the corners of his mouth. Her hand slid down his front, tucking her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, goosebumps raising on his skin.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, her name a plea and a question all in one. He didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, the memory of her rule—No musicians—echoing loudly in his brain. But he also wanted to kiss her until the end of time.

“Can you move your seat back?” She asked, brushing her thumb along his jaw. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, but he did as she asked. And then she swung her legs over the console, one knee on either side of his waist, and he understood. And he was not mad in the slightest.

Their lips reconnected as a scream came from the radio, but neither of them paid it any mind. The movie was a forgotten memory, their entire focus on where their lips met, nipped at one another, and battled for dominance. Y/N’s hands scrambled all over his body, curling into his button down and leaving wrinkles Harry didn’t give a fuck about. The way her fingernails dug into his skin through the fabric made him buck into her and he loved the gasp that left her mouth, the way her thighs tightened around his hips. He wanted to hear her sounds on an endless loop, noise cancelling headphones on and the world drowned out around him. All he wanted to hear, to see, to smell, was Y/N. The subtle, clean perfume she had put on, her lavender shampoo he could smell when he nestled his nose below her ear to lick her lobe, the faint scent of marijuana and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she’d smoke with him sometime.

Harry squeezed her hips, ruching her shirt up so he could brush his fingers across her skin. A whine escaped her lips and he chased it with his lips, wanting to hear more. He licked into her mouth, their tongues meeting. Y/N sucked hesitantly on his tongue and he groaned, Y/N giggling against his lips at the sound. “You menace,” he said, kissing a line down the column of her neck. “Driving me mad.” He nipped at the skin at the base of her neck and Y/N’s fingers curled into his hair, holding him there as she bucked her hips against him.

Kissing Y/N was everything Harry had been dreaming about since he met her. He had had actual dreams of kissing her, of knowing what it felt like to touch her skin, of her running her fingers down his arms like she was doing right in that second. He had woken up wondering if her lips would taste as good as they did in his dreams. In reality, she tasted better than he could’ve ever imagined. Sweeter, like a dewy English morning.

“Harry,” Y/N said, pulling away slightly from him. He tried to chase her lips but she just giggled and shook her head.

“What? Miss your lips.” He pressed a litter of kisses across her cheeks and her jaw, earning him gasps until Y/N tugged his head back from her.

“The seat buckle,” her words breathless, “it’s digging into my knee.”

Harry looked down and found that it was, indeed, digging into her kneecap in a way that was most definitely not comfortable. “We, uh, could go in the backseat?” Her face was unreadable and panic seized him—had he crossed a line? “Or we can stop—either is fine with me, I just want to be around you, we don’t have to do anything more and we can stop what we’re doing, I don’t—“

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Can we just stop for right now? I…I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Harry nodded quickly, running his hand up her back, desperately wish he could touch her bare skin under her shirt. “Of course. Wanna sit in your seat?”

Y/N looked at her seat and then at him. “Um, not really.”

His eyebrows quirked in response.

“Can I sit with you?” Her voice was small, hesitant. This Y/N was so unlike the one he had met, the strong and fierce girl who told him no. Here, Y/N was cautious in a different way, wanting to make sure what she did was okay with him too, and it warmed his heart that she cared about making him comfortable in the same way he did.

“ Of course, love,” the pet name slipping from his lips without a second thought. “C’mere.” With some difficulty, they adjust so that he was holding her, reclining his chair back slightly. Her body curled up, head resting on his shoulder, legs hooked over his in the small space between his seat and the door. Harry held her knees so they didn’t slip with one hand, the other trailing up and down her back. Y/N’s fingers traced circles on his abdomen and Harry tried to restrain from moaning, but he could feel the singe of her touch through his shirt and it destroyed him. “That better?”

“Mhmm,” she answered, eyes on the movie. “You’re comfortable.”

Harry chuckled, loving the way her mouth curled upwards at her little joke. He loved the feeling of her body against him, her weight pressed into him. A calm washed over him that he hadn’t felt since he was in London. With lips pressed to her hair, he settled in to watch the rest of the film, deciding he wouldn’t move her unless she asked, no matter how much his thighs ached.

After the movie ended, they drove to get ice creams, Y/N running inside to grab them so they didn’t run the risk of anyone seeing Harry. He drove down I5 to get back to her apartment, the lights of the city passing by them as they drove. Y/N told Harry about her work, the recent projects she was on, her co-workers who she adored, especially Jamie, the other strategist on her level. Harry listened intently, wanting to absorb every piece of information she told him like he was going to be tested on it later.

As he pulled up to her building, Y/N leaned over and turned down the volume of the music that had been playing in the background. It was Harry’s driving playlist, a lovingly curated collection of his favorite songs, one that was always a test for him of a person’s musical likeness. Y/N bopped her head along to all of his favorites, softly singing the lyrics to The Chain, so she officially passed the test.

“I had fun tonight,” Y/N said, looking over at him.

Harry threw the car in park and met her eyes. “Me too.” He wanted to ask if he could take her out again, but he didn’t want to rush her—he’d promised to take it at her pace, and he would keep that promise.

Y/N picked at her fingernails, the blue varnish chipping at the tips. “Would you want to do this again?”

A grin crossed Harry’s face, his highest hope realized. “I’d love to. I’ll text you?” Y/N nodded, and Harry took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles. “Text me when you’re in, okay?”

Faster than he could process, Y/N leaned across the console and kissed him. A quick, albeit deep kiss to his lips that left his mind scrambling as she pulled away and opened the car door. Her top swished in the wind as she walked away from him, the light from the street-lamps illuminating her figure in the dark night. Harry watched as she walked away, fading from sight, The 1975’s Somebody Else coming on shuffle.

His phone illuminated with a text from her a beat later. Inside. Thanks for tonight! :)

I’m happy I could get a second date, he replied, trying to be funny. Can’t wait to see you again xx

She replied with a heart and Harry tried not to read too much into it as he drove away with the windows down, Matty Healy’s voice filling the night air.

It had been two weeks since Harry took Y/N to the drive in, and since then Y/N’s days had been filled with texts from Harry at all hours of the day. He would send her memes he found on Twitter or Instagram, sometimes a photo of his lunch for the day, and ask her about work. She’d send him a selfie of her work outfit when she was feeling particularly confident and he’s text back a heart eye emoji, and one night after a few glasses of wine they FaceTimed, both in their pajamas in bed. Those quiet, soft moments, were the ones that kept Y/N feeling close to Harry in between hours here and there watching films and making out on their respective couches.

Curled up on her couch, Harry holding her close, fingers threading through her hair as they watched The Good Place, Y/N couldn’t remember feeling this at ease this quickly with any other men she’d dated. But with Harry, she felt comfortable in her oversized sweatshirt and ratty sweatpants, hair tossed into a messy bun and her glasses perched on her nose, a glass of wine in her hand. There wasn’t a part of her who felt like she still had to impress him, he was just…Harry. And that was the part that scared her, because if she forgot about his job, about his popularity, did that mean she would let him get too close? She had made her rule for a reason, and this moment was a prime example of how important it was.

The episode ended, Netflix asking them if they were still watching, and Harry squeezed her shoulder. “Want some more?” He asked, nodding to her wine glass.

“Sure,” she answered, sitting up and handing it to him. “We might need to open a fresh bottle—there’s more—“

“In the pantry, I know,” he said, cutting her off with a smile. He’d spent many nights with her on this couch and at this point she didn’t need to tell him where the forks were or where here recycling bin was.

Y/N tugged the blanket around her shoulders, cold from Harry leaving, and pressed pause on the TV. “Another episode?”

“Obviously,” Harry responded from the kitchen. She rolled over so she could watch him prepare the wine glasses, the sight of him standing in her kitchen, opening the wine on her marble countertops made her stomach flutter with butterflies. Every day that passed made it harder to hold him at a distance. “Are you free on the 1st?” He asked out of nowhere, pouring the wine into their glasses.

“Not sure,” Y/N responded. “Why?”

Harry looked up at her with a devious smile, the one Y/N had grown to enjoy. “It’s my birthday. Having a party and I was hoping you’d come.”

The idea of being in a room full of Harry’s friends, most of whom she would’t know, made Y/N’s head spin. But then again, she thought to herself, it wouldn’t be much different from going to an industry function with her dad and she’d been doing that since she was in diapers. She could hold her own. And plus, it was Harry’s birthday and the prospect of seeing him drunk and happy and eating cake was worth some discomfort. “Sure.”

His face lit up, eyes sparkling under the low lights of her kitchen. “Brilliant. Can’t wait for you to meet everyone—you’ll love them.” He brought over the wine glasses, tugging her back into his chest, arms a secure safe haven. “Now press play, wanna see what Eleanor and Chidi get up to this time.”

“I just want them to get together already,” she said, pressing play and settling into him, her face on his chest.

“Mhm,” he agreed, fingers scratching her scalp in the way she loved, and she tried not to let her eyes drift shut to the sound of his heart beating and the TV going.

With a gin and tonic in her hand and a forced smile on her face, Y/N wove her way through the crowd, trying to find Harry. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but he was her safety blanket of sorts—she didn’t know any of these people. Harry seemed to run in different circles from her dad and the people she’d grown up around, and the prospect of having to be a leech to Harry all night wasn’t exactly comforting. She didn’t want to be that annoying new girl that he had to introduce to everyone.

But then she heard her name from somewhere around her and she knew immediately that it was him. “Y/N!” Her eyes swept around her surroundings until they fell on his smile. He had his hair pushed back by a pair of sunglasses—despite that it was dark out—and he was in a velvet top with a crewneck underneath it. It was impossible, she thought, not to notice how stunning he was. She also wondered how much effort it would take to get him to take that crewneck off, because after the other times he had worn an unbuttoned shirt around her she knew it was one of her favorite things for him to wear.

She decided she would ask him when she gave him his birthday present.

Cutting through the people around her, Excuse me and I’m sorrys falling from her lips as she made her way over to the birthday boy, Y/N considered what he would make of her gift. She’d thought about it long and hard, called her best friend Hanna and Jamie on FaceTime to make sure she wasn’t being too presumptuous, but they’d reassured her she was fine. Overdue, even.

“Happy Birthday,” she said when she reached him, his hand immediately slipping around her waist. From the gleam in his eyes, she assumed he was a few drinks in and she wondered what silly dance moves he would whip out tonight. He’d shown her some earlier in the week after she had made them dinner and he’d had her giggling in seconds.

Harry’s hand squeezed the flesh at her hip, sending tingles up her spine, his eyes not leaving hers. “Thank you, baby.” It was the first time he’d used the nickname and Y/N tried not to think about the way it made her heart constrict with desire. “You look gorgeous.”

Jamie and Hanna had persuaded her to wear the outfit, despite her fears it was too much, but with Harry’s eyes on her and the way his hand curved into her body, she decided it was the right move. The short skirt and knee high boots she had been wanting to break out for ages, a silver top tucked loosely into the waistband to emphasize the curve of her waist. “Thanks,” she replied. “Now you going to introduce me, or will I have to do that myself?”

Harry blinked and the man and woman he was talking to chuckled. Y/N was happy she had made a good first impression—maybe making a joke or two at Harry’s expense would be her ice breaker. Not too many to where it hurt him, but enough to show people that she didn’t care about his fame, that to her he was just Harry, the idiot who did the Macarena in her living room to ABBA. “Oh, this is Mitch and Sarah,” he said, “they’re in my band. Mitch, Sarah, this is Y/N.”

“Pleasure,” the woman said, reaching out to hug Y/N. The display of affection warmed Y/N—maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone all night. This woman, Sarah, seemed lovely, and if she was in Harry’s band then she’d probably be seeing more of her at some point. “Harry mentioned you the other day. Said you have a sweet little place in Atwater?”

“Yes!” Y/N replied, her neighborhood one of her favorite topics of discussion. “I love it—moved in right after I graduated and it’s been perfect.”

“And what do you do, Y/N?” Mitch asked, taking a sip of his beer in his hand.

“Brand strategy,” Harry answered for her. “She’s utterly brilliant at it too—Y/N can you tell them about the project you were talking about at dinner on Tuesday?”

His words caused Y/N to glance at him with shock. She’d never had a guy answer for her before, but she could tell it wasn’t from a place of Harry trying to speak over her, but a place of pride—and support. “Yeah—it’s for a new ethical clothing brand out of Seattle, they’re working on size-inclusive athletic attire for women. The models for the campaign are going to be super diverse and I’m really excited to see it in the industry, since it’s been few and far between, especially in the fitness space.”

Sarah nodded along and Y/N could tell that she got it. “I’d love to know the company—could you text it to me?”

Harry gave Y/N another squeeze and she swallowed the smile that threatened to stay plastered on her face if Harry did that one more time. “Sure thing.” Sarah typed her number into Y/N’s phone, a little sunflower next to her name that reminded Y/N of Harry. It felt good to have a connection to one of Harry’s friends, especially someone as lovely as Sarah seemed.

And Sarah didn’t disappoint. She made Y/N her pet project for the evening, taking over when Harry had to talk to someone, keeping Y/N entertained and introducing her to people. By the time she had finished her second drink, she fonud herself deep in a conversation about a new art exhibit downtown that Jamie had mentioned to her. The thought of Harry’s presence hadn’t even popped into her head and it was nice to be independent in the space, to hold her own in the crowd. She realized that she fit in with his friends, despite her fears.

Harry kept on coming over though, grabbing her hand and leading her to talk to someone he worked with or was close with or he thought she’d find interesting. He refilled their glasses when she asked and kept an arm wrapped around her waist, a smile beaming down at her that filled her with joy. To be so supported by a man she’d only been seeing for a matter of weeks felt unreal, but she wasn’t mad about it. The newest conversation was with an up and coming photographer who Harry had taken a liking to, Harry explained to her.

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he said, gesturing to her.

The title of girlfriend almost passed her over completely, but when she processed it, it stopped her dead in her tracks. They hadn’t talked about titles, about officially being boyfriend and girlfriend, as silly as the term sounded. Every other time he’d introduced her , it was just Y/N, although she assumed the way he held her close probably gave away their relationship to anyone who had eyes. After all, it had only been a few weeks, so they were still infatuated with touching one another. Y/N couldn’t keep her hands off of him either, fingers slipping into a belt loop absentmindedly or creeping up his back and rubbing circles there while he talked.

And maybe it was for those reasons that the word girlfriend didn’t affect her as much as she expected it to. It felt somewhat right, even, she thought. It wasn’t like she particularly wanted to be seeing anyone else, after all—Harry had swooped into her life and she’d become obsessed with spending time with him, despite her rule and her objections to the idea of him. He had shocked her with his charm and honesty and intellect, the way he listened to her and asked her questions, how he held her close and murmured his commentary to films in her ear, willing to jump up and get her ice cream anytime she asked. Even though he was the definition of the man she had always promised herself she would never date, the idea of ending things made her recoil.

So she let the term slide. She smiled and shook the man’s hand, listening intently to him describe his newest exhibition and tucked his business card into her purse when he handed it to her. Later, she told herself. She’d talk to Harry later.

She cheered when Harry blew out the birthday candles on his cake, laughing along with everyone else when James Corden tried to shove his face into the cake. When Harry kissed the top of her head chastely, lips sweet with icing, she reveled in the moment, taking a bite of her own slice. It was late and she was getting tired and she desperately wanted to give Harry his gift with the more time that passed and the more messy his curls got and the more drinks she had. And then Harry started dancing with Sarah and James and a dozen other people, and suddenly he was dragging her onto the dance floor, holding her close and shimmying his hips along to Ariana Grande with her. Her head tipped back and a laugh rang through the night and she decided there was simply no way she could break it off. Harry had proved her wrong and she was going to let him continue.

Their kisses were heavy when they stumbled into Y/N’s apartment, the door slamming shut behind them. It was after midnight and they were both quite tipsy, maybe even drunk. Harry more so than her, but not to the point where he couldn’t tell her how everything she did made him feel.

“Your lips are heaven,” he said, pressing a line down her throat with her pressed up against the door. “How are they so soft? Do you have some special scrub or somethin’?”

“It’s from fresh,” she answered. “Fuck, Harry.” His hand had wrapped around her thigh and tugged it up around his hip so that he could press himself into her center and the friction had her sweating. The combination of his weight against hers and the wetness of his tongue on her collarbones as he sucked a kiss into her skin left her squirming in his hold, hands gripping his coat tightly in her hands. “Get this off,” she said, pushing at his coat.

“Bossy,” he chuckled, shrugging it off, the material falling to the ground. “Want me out of anything else, ma’am?”

Mischief twinkled in his eyes and Y/N wanted him completely naked, but that was a bit much for the entryway to her apartment. “Shirt.”

He unbuttoned his velvet shirt, pulling it off, but Y/N caught it in her hands. He looked at her quizzically, trying to understand what she was doing.

“Want this on,” she explained, holding up the velvet top. “And that one off.” Her fingers pulled at the neck of his crewneck and Harry’s eyes trailed to her fingers and then back to her face.

“I like your brain,” he said simply. And then complied with her request, crewneck over his head and on the ground. Y/N’s fingers were on his chest immediately, drawing patterns over his tattoos that she knew were there from seeing him in tank tops and thin t-shirts, but it was another thing entirely to be able to touch the ink on his body.

When he tugged on his velvet shirt, Y/N smiled, touching the fabric. “Should’ve just worn this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Her hands slid under the material, desperate to touch him again.

“I’ll make sure to get your approval next time.”

“Good.” Then, she pulled his lips back to hers, the touch of his mouth on hers leaving her humming. He ate it up, tongue licking into her mouth, the taste of tequila and cake filling her senses. His hand drifted up her side, squeezing the skin next to her breasts. She knew what he wanted and she didn’t want to say no to him. “Bedroom?”

Harry’s eyes widened, dropping to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “You sure?”

“Positive,” she answered. Then, she leaned in so she could whisper in his ear, “I have a present to give you.”

With that information, Harry swept her up in his arms, ignoring her pleas for him to set her down, and carried her into the bedroom. Dropping her onto the duvet, he crawled up her body like a cat, head nuzzling into her skin in a way that was so sweet Y/N didn’t know what to do with herself. “I want my present,” Harry mumbled. “What do I have to unwrap, baby?”

Y/N mewled at the last word of his sentence and he winked at her. Baby. “You said that earlier.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “And?”

A smile wormed its way onto her face. “I like it.”

“Good,” he said, tucking his face back into her body, blowing hot air over her breasts. She could feel the sensation through the fabric of her top and it tightened her nipples, begging for more. “You like anything else I said tonight?”

“Hmm?”

“When we were talking to Eric,” he said, not meeting her eyes, instead pressing wet kisses down her tummy, rucking the hem of the fabric up slightly so he could touch her skin. “Called you something.”

Girlfriend. She knew where he was going and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his coyness. “I caught that.”

He licked into her bellybutton, a yelp escaping her mouth at the sensation. “Thoughts?”

“Can you take my shirt off already, boyfriend?” She didn’t even pause—she’d thought about it for the rest of the night, toying with the terms. The time had allowed her to process and now she knew what she wanted—she wanted him. She’d figure the rest of it out later, but first she wanted him.

Finally, Harry met her eyes. His face was illuminated by the light from her bedside table lamp, the soft glow showing the light tan to his skin, his green eyes popping up to hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the soft skin above her belly button. “We’ll talk more about it later. But first, I want to see you.” Y/N leaned up and helped him take her shirt off, then shimmy the skirt down her hips. She kicked her boots off somewhere in the process. Lying in just her underwear for him, she tried not to squirm under his gaze as he took inventory of every inch of her exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he finally breathed out, eyes glassy and lips wet. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Your turn,” she said, tugging at his pants. “Get out of these.”

“Give me a second, Jesus woman,” he said, batting her hands away so he could get the button undone. The jeans were tight, which Y/N didn’t hesitate to make fun of him for, and Harry just rolled his eyes at her. “You love them,” he countered and he wasn’t wrong. When he hovered over her in just his boxers, Y/N decided he was positively delectable. Her hands pushed off his top that he had kept on just for her, the fabric falling somewhere on her floor.

“Roll over,” she directed, pushing at his torso so he would lay down in the space next to her.

He was compliant, completely under her spell. In just their underwear, there was far more skin to explore and Y/N planning to take advantage of her opportunity. She ran her hands over his skin, every tattoo earning a kiss from her lips, mumbling how pretty he was as she went down his body. It was like a map, and a map she wanted to know by heart. When he bucked into her core, Y/N smirked at him, Harry groaning as she ignored what he needed.

“Quite bossy, aren’t you?”

“It’s my birthday present, ain’t it?”

Y/N pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him as she had before and yet again, it worked. “Haven’t even told you what it is.” Clamoring off his body, she made her way lower, resting next to his knees. She brushed a finger over the outline of him in his boxer, a guttural moan filling the room at her touch. “That’s your birthday gift,” she told him, words falling soft in the space around them.

“Yeah?” He choked out as she gripped him harder through his boxers. “Please, Y/N, please.” His begs did something to her, his desperation pulling the same from her. She wanted to touch him, to have him in her mouth, to know how he tasted.

Her fingers pulled at his boxers, tugging them down his long legs and letting them fall to the end of her bed. His cock sprung up against his belly, hard and heavy, the tip pink from his desire. “Needy, hm?” Y/N didn’t usually do dirty talk, but with Harry it just fell from her mouth without another thought. The comfort of being with him made her usual worries about what she said collapse, her only thought his pleasure. “What do you want, baby?”

The pet name seemed to do something special to him because he bucked up into the air with a hiss. “Hands. Mouth. Anything.”

Y/N could do anything. She slid back into the spot between his legs and licked a solid stripe up the underside of him, the growl that left his mouth music to her ears. Taking the tip into her mouth she bobbed down as far as she could—she wanted to surprise him, start strong. None of this slow and steady crap. She wanted Harry to know how good she was, how good she could make him feel. She wanted to rock his fucking world.

And she did. She built a steady tempo, taking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth in her hands, rubbing him up and down, the slick of her saliva making the work easy. Harry’s hand found her hair, thumbing through it to keep it out of her face, the sweet motion making her heart sing. Every once in a while she would push down so that he hit the back of her throat and keep him there as long as she could, inhaling through her nose, the choked groan from his chest making the feeling worth it. When his hips popped up, his tip pressing deeper, she let him do it, loving the feeling of him in her mouth. She loved the moans filling the air and the way he rasped her name like the chorus to his favorite song, how he tugged on her hair and wound the strands between his fingers.

She decided that going down on him was her new favorite past time. She would make it a fucking national sport if that meant she could do it every day, because seeing him falling apart from her and her alone brought her a kind of gratification she had never felt.

“Close?” Her words pulled him from a daze, tongue darting over his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

That made Y/N double down her efforts. She wanted him to cum, she wanted it so badly she felt it in every bone of her body. “Want you to come,” she mumbled against him, the vibrations of her voice sending shocks through his body. “Come for me, H.”

He gasped, bucking into her mouth. “You—your mouth? I—“

“Come for me, baby,” her voice a beg, a plea. She wanted to taste him, to know how what he tasted like, to kiss him with the taste still lingering on her tongue.

When he came, she had to wonder if this was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The way he tossed his head back, mouth in a silent scream as he emptied into her mouth. He held her head in place lightly, just enough so there was weight but not too much where she couldn’t move, his other hand gripping the duvet cover in a tight grip. And his taste—he tasted a bit salty, but she didn’t mind. It was tangy, a taste that was him, and she loved it. She held him there on her tongue until he stopped, the ropes of his orgasm stopping finally, and she slipped him from her mouth. As he settled, his chest rose and fell quickly, regaining his breath.

She pressed her head to his thigh, out of breath too, her eyes on him. Watching him regain composure was a sight she would dream of, his hair scattered across her pillow in disarray, the flush to his cheeks, the pants from his parted lips.

“C’mere,” he finally said, voice raw. “Want a kiss.”

Y/N didn’t make him wait. She crawled up his body, legs on either side of his stomach and pressed her lips to his. The idea of him tasting himself on her tongue made her hot, her center clenching, but it was all about Harry tonight. “Happy Birthday,” she mumbled against his lips and he chuckled. “Hope it was a good one.”

“Best one yet,” he told her, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “Tired?”

She nodded, face held in his hands. “Stay?”

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her nose. “Course. Got an extra toothbrush?”

In the morning, she woke up in his embrace, arms curled tightly around her frame. He’d kicked some of the covers off overnight, but thankfully he was as hot as a furnace so she wasn’t cold. Without even thinking about it, she cuddled against his chest, shutting her eyes to hold onto the moment a little longer.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered and Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

Turning over so she could see his face, she murmured, “Sleep well?”

“Perfectly,” he answered. “These sheets are cozy.”

“Target.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to get some.”

She chuckled, pressing her face into his chest. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“Then don’t,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “Wanted to talk to you, though.”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were closed against his skin and it was blissful. He smelled like sweat and his cologne and the distinct smell of Harry, a scent she was quickly growing to adore.

Tucking a leg between hers, he said, “This is a busy year for me. The album’s coming out in May, then Dunkirk in July, then tour in the fall. And I know that you don’t want to date a musician and I know it’s early days, but I—I can’t imagine losing you, you know? So I want to have a plan for how we’re going to do it. Cuz it won’t be easy.”

Y/N looked up at him, the morning sunlight hitting his cheekbones perfectly. “The fact that you even want to have that conversation means so much.” Her words were honest—they showed he cared. He wanted to try, to make it work. “Let’s figure out the specifics when it comes time for that, but for now you’ll be here, yeah?” He nodded and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Let’s make a promise to each other. We talk. All the time about everything and anything. Don’t bottle it up, just share what’s going on in your head. I think that’ll make it somewhat easier. And we visit as much as we can.”

Harry’s fingers ran across the bridge of her nose and then up, a line across the tops of her eyebrows. “I like that.”

“But it’s a continuing conversation, okay?” She added, wanting to make sure this was clear. “We have to keep talking about it, even though it’s harder than it is to ignore it.” It was something she knew from watching her dad over the years and from her own relationship with him. Once she told him that he was gone too much, that she wanted him home, he made it happen. He prioritized her, she just had to remind him that she wanted him there.

“Okay.” Harry kissed her forehead, and then across her cheeks, soft kisses pressed to her skin that left her in giggles. “Now let’s eat something—I’m starved.” Y/N groaned, but let him pull her out of bed. They brushed their teeth together, him pressing toothpaste kisses to her lips, and she let him use her face wash and moisturizer. It was perfect, and for that moment, Y/N’s worries of the future fell away and she hoped she could hold them off. At least for a while.

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!)

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent, the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc

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the-starsabove-you · 3 years

Text

The Spotlight

A/N: The Finale is here! I hate that I’m going to end this story, I had lots of plans for it.. But I feel like I’ve beaten a dead horse and burned myself out in the process, it’s why I took a breath and if you guys want, I will post some bonus chapters, but this is the last chapter before the epilogue, thank you to everyone who did read it and stuck with me! I hope you guys enjoy it Finale- Coming Home to You Michelle looked out the window of the summer morning, how it was actually peaceful to watch the city in the summertime the people outside taking a stroll through the streets with drinks or their partners and children in hand. It had been a rough couple of months, modeling was really taking a toll on her life.. How she was hanging out with the wrong people too as she had seen things she never thought or wanted to see either, and how it was extremely different than what she and Marie would have wanted. There was a knock on the door and she got up from her chair and quickly went to the door and saw it was Marie, who made her way inside the apartment quietly. The two were talking for the past couple of weeks and both were agreeing on the same thing, that the environment that Michelle was in wasn’t healthy for her.. A couple of months ago, her and Mat broke up.. The pressure of dating her and being stuck in the Spotlight was getting a bit too much and it boiled over when Michelle had to leave him to attend a runway show and Mat had enough, making her choose between him or her career and when she stood there silent, he made the choice and left.. It caused Michelle to go into a spiral and ended up trashing her apartment.. Cutting her hand in the process. Michelle and Marie sat down at the dining room table and it was silent for a moment before the older woman cleared her throat and Michelle looked up and Marie smiled softly at her before sliding a couple of papers “When you sign these papers.. Your contract with me is over, you won’t have to do no more shows and photoshoots.. You’ll be completely out of the spotlight, I’m asking you one more time, do you wanna do this” Michelle looked at the papers for a moment, grabbing the pen that Marie handed her and she tapped the pen for a moment on the table as she thought about this. Everything that Michelle had worked for, would be over and she could retire from being a model.. It would take time but she would go back to being what she was before ever being famous, and all the years of traveling and meeting new friends would just be memories.. But without it, she wouldn’t have met Mat.. How she felt happy waking up next to him in the mornings, how he would look at her in amusement when she would be dancing in the kitchen humming to a tune.. How he looked at her in awe when she would enter the room.. How he made her feel such a way and how she wanted those feelings back.. Some people would judge and say she was throwing her career away for a guy.. But in all honesty, Mat was worth it.. Michelle remembered how Mat said she was worth the trouble and all, and in the end.. Mat was worth the sacrifice of it. Michelle without thinking signed the papers, making sure she read every paragraph before signing it and she started to feel like there was a weight coming off her shoulder as she signed her name on each paper.. Today, Michelle was going to start a new life, one that she wanted for a while.. One where she could make her own choices and being free “And that’s it..” Marie said with a soft smile as she stood up and gathered the papers “This will go through tonight and by tonight.. Michelle Wilson is no longer a supermodel for my agency” Michelle looked at her with a smile before getting up and going towards her “Marie.. I wanted to thank you, for looking after me all these years and making sure I didn’t go down a wrong path when I first became famous.. In all honesty, you were more of my parent than my real parents and I won’t ever forget what you did for me” Marie looked at the young girl with a soft smile on her face as she began to tear up “I was so hard on you because I wanted you to be better than all the others.. I saw what fame could do to models but when I first saw you, I knew I wanted to make you different.. I never wanted to see you dead on the news anywhere. I wanted to do what was right with you, I lost a daughter when she was extremely young but I felt like I got a piece of me back when you entered my life.. So I thank you so much for letting me be a mother to you” Michelle brought her into a tight hug and Marie hugged her as tight “I love you so much baby, you know if you ever need anything that you call me and you come visit me anytime.. You know where I live” Marie said and Michelle laughed softly and she looked at her mother-figure “I have a plane to book now that I’m no longer a supermodel” Michelle said and Marie gave her a look but was smiling “do I need to guess where you’re going?” Michelle smirked “Nope.. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to book my ticket to Vancouver” Mat was in his room, playing the guitar.. Well was still learning. It was a quiet day in Vancouver, it was clear skies and it was quiet around the lake.. Mat went for a swim earlier and had lunch with his family, it was relaxing now that it was off-season, having time to rest and relax before a new season started. His mom was cooking dinner while his father and sister were watching a movie in the living room.. All he could think of the past few months was Michelle, how it pained him to walk out of the door but he finally had to think of himself and end the relationship before things really took a turn for the worse. Emily and Tito were due to visit in a couple of days, it was about time those two lovebirds arrived as they were vacationing in California before going to Tito’s hometown to spend time with his family and friends.. Tito also hinted that he wanted to ask Emily to marry him, asking her mother to come with him to shop for rings. Mat snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his mom greeting someone at the door and he assumed it was the neighbors, they did like to visit from time to time. He hadn’t seen Michelle in any news lately, she had gone extremely quiet in the past month.. Noot that he was stalking her social media or googling her name.. But he found it very odd, when they were together when he would search her name up there would be a new article about her.. But Michelle had been radio silent and he was wondering why.. Did Michelle get a new boyfriend? Did she get married? Was she pregnant? Was the baby his? Did she get plastic surgery? Now overthinking, Mat was very anxious and he looked up when his mother called his name and he yelled a ‘What?’ “Mat, come here! There’s someone here to visit you!” His mother sounded overly happy, which was odd because she didn’t sound very happy when the neighbors would visit, so it must have been Tito and Emily but they were very early.. Mat signed and placed the guitar on his bed before grabbing a sweatshirt and making his way to the front door to see who it was, he thought it would be the kids from next door wanting to play street hockey with him or someone giving some kind of cake and his mom wanted the family to be there to say thank you. Mat looked up from the floor and stopped dead when he saw it was Michelle standing there at the front door, his mom looking at him with a huge grin.. He never forgot how much his mother loved Michelle and how upset she was when he came home, telling her that he broke up with Michelle and didn’t speak to him for a couple of days. Mat looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth opened as Michelle was standing there wearing a puffy jacket and black beanie, looking at Mat with a frown.. Mat knowing that Michelle was thinking this may have been a bad idea.. “Michelle! It’s nice for you to drop by!” Mat’s mom said as Mat snapped out of his thoughts and he cleared his throat “It’s nice to see you” He said and Michelle smiled “I was in town.. Thought I would stop by, heard Vancouver was a good place to hang around, wanted to stay for a bit before I flew back to Winnipeg and find an apartment there” “Wait, you’re moving to Winnipeg?” Mat said as he frowned and looked at her confused before looking at his mom “Um.. I’m gonna bring Michelle to the front porch, need to talk real quick” He said and his mother nodded as she stepped aside letting Mat pass by her, closing the door. Mat took Michelle’s hand and they went to sit at the seats at the front and he looked at her for a moment before frowning “Why are you moving to Winnipeg? Did something happen to your family?” He questioned and she shook her head “Everything is okay! I promise.. I wanted to share something with you” “Oh, what is it?” “I kinda ended my contract with Marie and her agency.. I’m no longer a supermodel, well to put it this way I’m retired from the industry now” Mat’s eyes widened as he was lost for words for a moment before speaking “Wait.. What do you mean you’re no longer a supermodel?” “With everything that happened, it took me time to realize that I needed to stand back a bit and decide that I need to do what’s best for myself in the long run. I’m gonna go back to school and become a doctor, and do something good.. Being a model was good and I’ve made an impact and had lots of people looking up to me.. But I know I can do more with saving lives” Mat was at loss for words for a moment before smiling softly “I’m so proud of you, for taking that step” “Thanks, I just need to head back to Winnipeg and find a place.. I’m not going to live with my parents, and I’m gonna use the money I made and invest in things.. Make some kind of difference in Winnipeg and beyond” “Do you have plans to visit New York?” Mat questioned and Michelle smiled softly “Marie is letting me keep my apartment and I placed the house we had on the market, it’s just a matter of who is interested in it” Mat grabbed her hand and squeezed it “Take the house off the market” He said before Michelle frowned “What? Why?” “Because I’m going to buy the house, it’s our house after all” He said and Michelle was lost for words for a bit and he kept on “Um.. If you want, you don’t have to go back to Winnipeg.. Stay here in Vancouver for the rest of the summer, I’m sure my mom would be over the moon with you staying with me.. You can apply to NYU and you can start when we go back to New York for the season and we’ll stay until you graduate or if I ever sign with another team” “You’ll really do that for me?” She whispered and Mat leaned to kiss her forehead and smiled, his green eyes shining as he squeezed her hand “You made sacrifices for me, I can make sacrifices for you too” Michelle looked at him for a moment before squeezing his hand “We’ll take it one day at a time.. We’ll communicate better than before, and we’ll do everything to make this work between us.. I promise” “I promise we’re gonna be okay, me and you.” Mat said and she smiled.. How it started with an Instagram post and the many hurdles they came across and how they broke up.. Mat and Michelle promised that they would work to improve on their relationships while promising to support what their partners wanted to do. Michelle leaned forward to kiss Mat who wrapped an arm around her waist to bring her in closer and for the first time, Michelle felt relief and happiness.. She was going to start new with the man she loved so much. How she remembered there was a time where people cheered for her at parties, festivals and runway shows.. How it was all going to be a distant memory.. Michelle Wilson! Michelle Wilson! Michelle Wilson! ‘Michelle Wilson has given it 110% to the industry over the past few years. Her schedule amazed me because there was no way a human should have endured it. She gave her heart and soul to this industry and knocked down so many doors. Right now, it’s just best to leave Michelle alone.. Let her recharge and gather her thoughts and let her have her life back.. She mentally and physically needs this.. If she ever does want to return, she will let you know.. Leave her alone and let her be’

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Break My Heart Right: Kiss Me Jack Frost (Luba x Reader)

A/N: The gif isn’t super important, but visually it is? Or maybe I just like it. Prompts: Blizzard/Snowed in, “Your hands are like ice!” Word Count: 1692 Content Warnings: Spoilers for Mute, alcohol consumption, implied smut Taglist: @sean-falco (let me know if you want to be added) Cross-posted to AO3

The wind howled on the other side of the glass store-front as you and your studio partner, Alexi, rushed to finish everything you needed to do, anticipating a shut down at least several days long. Storms like the one brewing outside weren’t frequent in the city, but when they struck, there was no denying Mother Nature’s will, and the weather predicted that this one was going to be particularly powerful. You fully believed that, glancing at the thick white haze. It was already fierce and picking up further, and at this rate you were just hoping to make it home. Alexi was lovely and a dear friend, but you didn’t fancy spending several days locked up with them at work, especially when the other option was shacking up with Luba for a while with absolutely zero interruptions.

The thought had just barely crossed your mind when there was a loud click, a fading hum, and the studio plunged into darkness.

“Shit,” you heard Alexi shout.

“Are you alright?” you called back, unsure where exactly they were and concerned that the sudden blackout had resulted in them hurting themselves with some sort of equipment.

“Yeah, fine. Just...not a fan of the dark to be honest.”

You couldn’t really blame them. After all, until this moment you couldn’t remember the last time you had known true darkness. There was always at least a distant, muffled glow of streetlights and neon, cars and advertisements and screens everywhere. You weren’t exactly thrilled with it either.

“Do we have a generator or any battery lights in the back?” you asked, cautiously hopeful. Alexi was big on photoshoots of new pieces, and not everything could be captured with the overheads.

“We might have a few blacklights? But I can’t even see to find them.”

By the time you scrounged up the lamps, the temperature inside the studio was already starting to drop, your fingers feeling numb as you shrugged on your jacket while you kept working.

“Alright, I’m headed out, Y/N. You should too, before all the taxies stop,” Alexi said finally, wrapping their scarf around their neck as they talked.

“I will, I will,” you said, brushing off their concern. “I just want to make sure this is braced so the mold doesn’t seize while we’re gone and then I’m out.”

They gave you a disbelieving look, knowing you had a tendency to be forever coming up with ‘one more thing’ to do.

“I promise. I don’t want to get stuck here.”

“Especially not with that gorgeous partner of yours waiting at home for you,” they wiggled your eyebrows at you and you blushed hotly. “I still don’t know how you managed to get that to yourself but I’m insanely jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, waving at them to get going.

As promised, you were only a few minutes behind Alexi, leaving the last dying blacklight by the door in case you needed to go back for something. You were daydreaming as you trudged down the street about what might be waiting at home: warmth and cuddles, and if you were very lucky, several days to just enjoy spending time with...

“Luba?!” you called, spotting the object of your mundane little fantasy through the swirling snow, hunched in his thick coat, pale hair stained blue by the one remaining sign lit on the street (you felt a little jealous of whoever owned the shop for being able to afford to waste a generator on powering it). “What are you doing out here?”

You rushed over to him as best you could through the nearly knee-deep snow. He shivered violently beneath your touch as you wrapped your arms around him, and you fearfully suspected that the blue tinge of his lips wasn’t makeup.

“I came to find you,” he said sheepishly through chattering teeth. “When you didn’t come home or pick up when I tried to call...I got worried.”

Your heart twisted painfully as you read between the lines, the words written in his sad, mossy eyes, currently framed by lashes coated in so much snow that they matched his signature work look without artificial assistance: ‘I was scared. That you left. That you were gone forever. Like Naadirah. Don’t leave me. Please.’

Unsure what else to do, you squeezed tighter, hugging him closer.

“Can we go home now?” his voice was soft, pleading, before taking on a clearly faked lilt. “This weather is a nightmare on my skin.”

“Actually…” you looked around at the barren streets. “I don’t think we can. Unless you want to walk the whole way…”

His shoulders slumped. “I won’t make it, I’ll freeze to death.”

“Luckily, my studio is right back down the street. It’s got no heat for now, but at least we’ll be out of the snow. Actually, you know that, so I’m not sure why you didn’t just come inside to begin with.”

He shrugged, mumbling something that was lost in the wind. You decided not to push it, more interested in getting inside than arguing over details.

Stomping snow off your boots, you flicked the little lamp back on, it’s purple bulb flickering and popping in protest. Despite the instinct to stay in as many layers as possible, you knew the melting snow would only make you colder, so you reluctantly peeled off your coat and made Luba do the same.

“There must be something around here we can use to keep warm,” you muttered, rubbing at your shoulders and watching as your breath misted unpleasantly in the air.

“We’re going to die here,” Luba’s tone was matter-of-fact, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“The battery on that light isn’t going to last long, so can you please help me look around before you accept popsicle-y fate?”

“Slave driver,” he muttered, glaring slightly, though the effect was defeated by his chattering teeth.

Still, he moved to the opposite side of the studio and began looking around. Eventually, but not before you were both shivering and close to giving up hope, you found a stack of drop cloths. The stiff, paint-caked canvases wouldn’t be the most ideal substitute for blankets but they’d do a little something, or at least you prayed they would.

“I think we can use these,” you said, “and if we huddle together, it might be enough. We’ll be okay.” You grimaced, your voice sounding decidedly unconvincing.

“Mightn’t these work better?” he asked, pulling out some worn and ragged towels from one of the cupboards.

“I don’t know about better, but we could just pile it on. It’s so cold I’ll take everything we can get.”

Luba continued to look around as you started building a nest for the pair of you dragging over the rough mats on the floor to insulate you from the concrete and arranging the makeshift blankets to be easily pulled up.

“Well well, what do we have here?” he said, pulling something out of one of Alexi’s drawers. “This will certainly keep us warmer.”

You looked up, raising an eyebrow as he shook the bottle at you.

“I feel bad taking Alexi’s whiskey…” you said, biting your lip.

“I think they’ll understand an emergency situation.”

You sighed, relenting to his logic, and more importantly his big, puppy dog eyes. “Fine, bring it over here. But we should really bundle up now-ish before one of us starts really feeling the effects of the cold.”

If you were being honest, you were already feeling a dangerous and sudden kind of sleepy, and you noticed that he was shivering less than he was initially, even though the temperature had, if anything, dropped.

“You don’t have to make up excuses for a cuddle you know, Y/N,” he teased, sauntering over and draping himself dramatically around you.

You tugged him down to the floor, wrapping the layers of cloth around you. It was heavy and awkward but you already felt a little bit warmer. He took a swig of alcohol and then held it up to your lips to sip while you arranged the covers better. Setting the bottle behind you where it was in easy reach, he shifted you onto his lap, long elegant fingers holding onto your waist.

“Jesus Luba,” you shrieked, jumping as you felt his skin on yours when he slipped them under your shirt. “Your hands are like ice!”

“Hm, I wonder why.” He rolled his eyes at you, frowning when you didn’t laugh along. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time.”

The implication in his tone was obvious, but in case you somehow missed it, his lips began to wander along your neck, leaving hot, teasing kisses across your skin at the same time his chilled fingers continued to travel upward beneath your clothes.

“No. Absolutely not,” you protested, trying to squirm away from him without losing the protective warmth of the piles of fabric.

He pouted at you. “Please, darling? You know how much I need you…”

You knew that he knew exactly what buttons to press to get you to surrender to him, and you were close to doing just that. You scowled half-heartedly, trying to remain strong.

“No. I love you, but it’s too cold. I’m not taking my sweater off no matter how much you look at me like that.”

“That particular article of clothing isn’t in the way, darling.”

He winked and you felt your resolve shatter. Lightly, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted, he drew you back in, kissing you tenderly, tongue slowly exploring every inch of your mouth as you melted, putty in his hands. You slid your hands up over his shoulders and neck to tangle your fingers in his gentle curls, pulling him closer.

“So is that a yes?” he teased, eyebrows raised and warm breath ghosting over your face. “Or do I still need to convince you?”

You laughed, nodding and pulling him down into another kiss. The weather might be terrible and the situation a mess, but the company was good, and it was shaping up to be a pretty splendid night after all.

#I'll be honest: the first time I saw the image above it was a tiny version as someone's profile picture #and I couldn't tell it was Robert but my first thought was 'Jeez who tried to make an edgy hot version of the Miser Brothers'#then I was listening to Alexander James Adams' Life's Flame album and got the song 'Stormbringer - Kiss Me Jack Frost' stuck in my head #then I watched Mute #and it all fell together #Break My Heart Right #Luba x Reader #Mute (2018) fic

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connordavidscamera · 4 years

Text

Just a Photo | Connor Brashier

A/n: this is a repost from my Shawn account!! This is my piece and is not stolen.

Summary: Y/n and Connor have been friends for a while and this shoot might be the push they need to be more

Warnings: fluff and smut

word count: 2k

***

Connor and I sit on Sam’s couch while he fixes the lighting of his new studio set up. He’s doing tester shots of his roommates while Con and I scroll through social media, showing each other a meme that we find funny every few minutes. His arm is behind my back and I’m leaning into him, just enough to be comforted by his warmth, but not close enough for anyone to insinuate anything. Not that it hasn’t happened before. Many times, on many occasions. We’ve been friends for only a couple years, since senior year of high school, but we’re closer than most. We might even be closer than him and Sam, which says a lot because they’ve been friends basically their entire lives.

Sam doesn’t seem to mind though. (He and I got along from the very beginning and we’re almost just as close.) In fact, I think he enjoys the fact that I steal Connor away from him at times. “Y/n!” Sam calls from his spot behind the camera. I look up from my phone and over at our tattooed friend.

“What?”

“Can you be my model?”

“Excuse me?” I ask and Connor chuckles.

“Yeah, I never get to take your picture. Come on, please, honey!”

“Yeah, honey. Let Sam take your picture.”

I narrow my eyes at him and then smirk.

“What? That’s your idea face.”

“Okay, Sammy, I’ll do it. On one condition,” I say, not taking my eyes off Connor.

“Yes, anything!”

“Con has to be in them with me.”

“Deal,” Sam agreed.

“Hey,” Con objected. “I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“Oh, you’re doing it! I already have ideas. Come on, y/n. I have something for you to wear.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” I gesture to my attire, jeans and a - I’ll admit - very low cut v-neck.

He looks me up and down and then does the same for Connor. “You’re wearing too much.”

“What?” we both exclaim as he pulls me through the place, to his bedroom.

“Sam, I am not about to be another one of your naked models.”

“You won’t,” he says, looking through his closet and pulling out one of his button ups. “Here put this on. Take everything else off though.”

“Everything?” I raise my eyebrows at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He rolls his eyes, “You can keep your panties on, but get rid of the bra. I want the shirt falling off your shoulder.”

“Very demanding,” I say, starting to unbutton my jeans, “I’d hate to really be one of your models,” I joke.

“Yeah yeah. Just put the shirt on please. I’m gonna get Connor ready.” He closes the door behind him and I shake my head.

I know what he’s up to and I’m not about it, but I change anyway, leaving pretty much half of the buttons undone so I can slide it off my shoulder. I look in his mirror and fluff up my hair a bit, making it roughly resemble bedhead. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. I walk out of the room, a bit self conscious, and even more so when I see Connor in front of the backdrop, on one knee, laughing at something Sam said.

I stop and stare for what feels like forever, but is really only for another four shutters before they notice my presence. Con stops immediately, eyes wide as they look me up and down. He clears his throat and averts his eyes, looking down at his shoes.

“You look good, y/n.” Sam said, ushering me over. “Brash, take the sweater off.” I know my cheeks are red while I watch him remove it from his frame, throwing it aimlessly to the side. He looks too good; damn him for going to the gym more often.

I’m too busy imagining all the things that I would like to do to him that I don’t notice that Sam is talking to me until his hand is waving in front of my face.

“Earth to y/n. I need you to sit between his legs.”

Lord help me, I think to myself, but nod anyway and sit down, careful not to move too much, giving the boys an accidental show. I don’t sit close, in fact, we don’t touch at all. Sam doesn’t like that.

“Jesus, you’re not strangers. Act like you always do. Lean into each other,” he rolls his eyes.

I’m hesitant at first, but I comply and scoot back, leaning into Connor’s warmth, his hands find my waist and upper thigh, knocking the breath from my lungs. “Okay, good. Now, Connor, place your chin on her shoulder and look up and toward the window. Y/n, look opposite, kind of pouty. That should be easy for you guys.”

I don’t have to look back at Connor to know he’s glaring at our friend, just like I am. But we do as told. And we do this for what feels like hours, trying out new poses and positions. My favorite being the one where I’m practically straddling his lap, laughing into his neck while he stares straight ahead, looking like the beautiful golden boy that he is. There’s one point where I’m trying to detangle myself from him and we both end up falling backward, his hands instinctively reaching for me, only this time they end up under my shirt, his pinky fingers grazing the waist of my panties. We both suck in a breath and I bite my bottom lip, staring, quite obviously, at his perfect, totally kissable ones. He does the same, licking his as his eyes dart from my lips to my practically bare torso. I’m about to cave, lean in and kiss him because I have to know what his lips feel like; I need to know what he tastes like.

But Sam clears his throat and tells us how he wants us now. But the tension is there. His hands are burning my skin and the look in our eyes is electric .And then the photoshoot ends, Sam saying he thinks he got some good shots, and I wonder what would have happened if he wasn’t here. If he left us alone for just a few minutes. Would either of us have the courage to make a move?

The answer is yes. Because the second we get outside Sam’s apartment, fully dressed now, Connor has me against the wall and I’m feeling his lips for the first time. They’re just as soft as I had imagined all this time. They fit perfectly with mine and I want nothing more than to feel them against me forever, no matter the place or time. This is what heaven felt like and this is where I wanted to be for the rest of eternity.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he mutters when he finally pulls away for the much needed intake of breath. “I need you, y/n. Please.”

I don’t believe my ears. I’m standing here, pinned against the wall by my best friend, while just outside the apartment of our other best friend. And I’m hearing Connor David Brashier beg me to go home with him, and I don’t know why I’m not already nodding.

We get to his apartment in record time and it’s not long before we’re in his bed, stripping ourselves of everything. We stop for a minute though when he goes to his bathroom to get a condom. I can’t help but watch him, taking in everything that I see. The strong arms that felt so good wrapped around me earlier, the muscles in his back that show when he reaches for something. And then there’s that taunting v-line that I want to trace with my tongue and my lips and fingers. I want to feel him trembling beneath me.

He has other plans though.

—

There’s a difference between my fingers and Connor’s. Mine are soft and skinny, and frankly, just don’t do the job. But his? They’re wide and a little rough and reach spots I could never. Which is why I’m tossing and bucking my hips with nearly every thrust of his fingers. He starts with one, causing me to hum in pleasure, and then he adds a second and a third right after. I arch my back at the blossoming wave of pleasure that fills me as he does.

“Oh… fuck!” I grip the sheets, attempting to keep my eyes open so I can see the beautiful boy laying between my legs. He leaves love bites down my stomach, leading toward my heat, and continues to leave them on my upper thighs.

He chuckles against my skin when I let out a low whimper and swiftly licks at my clit, causing my back to arch again. But he pushes me back down and his hand finds my nipple, flicking and pinching it, making me squirm even more. I don’t know how he’s not tired because I’m spent. The three orgasms he’s brought me to already have left me exhausted. But now he’s pumping his fingers harder and faster and curling them inside me. I scream when I reach my high, but he does nothing to help bring me down, he just keeps licking and sucking and fingering. The slurping noises coming from him are almost enough to make me come undone for a fifth time, and I think he senses it because he starts talking me through it. “Come on, pretty girl. Give me one more. Wanna make you feel good just one more time. Can you do that? Can you cum all over my tongue?”

“Connor,” I beg and bring him up to my lips, tasting myself on his tongue. I hum.

“Want you on my face. Can you do that for me, baby?”

I shake my head, “I can’t, Con.” I can feel my legs still quivering as I try to recover from the intense orgasms. “Can’t hold myself up.”

“Who said you have to?” he smirks, laying himself down beside me, “I’ve got you.” And before I know it, I’m sitting over his face and his tongue is reaching deep and I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before, resulting in my sixth and final orgasm of the night, because it hurts. The pain overpowers the pleasure now and I collapse next to him, tears threatening to spill. But he coaxes me through it, running his fingers through my matted hair, telling me how good I am for him and how pretty I look so fucked for him. He wipes my tears and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry, y/n/n. Just breathe. I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He’s gentle as he cleans me up, taking his hand away for a second when I hiss at the contact. And he tucks me in, wrapping his arm around my waist, cuddling me as we both start to doze off.

Morning comes too soon, and I stir in the arms of the pretty, blue eyed boy that’s still holding me against his chest, scrolling through his phone smiling softly until he notices me and his smile widens. “Morning sleeping beauty.”

I hum, curling further into him and he lets me. “Morning, pretty boy.”

“Sam sent the pictures.”

“Already?” I ask, eyes falling shut again.

“Mmhmm… Can I ask for your opinion on my caption?”

I nod. “Sure.” I open my eyes just long enough to read the short caption he has written down and I don’t think I could smile wider. I look up at him and he looks at me with a skeptical look?

“Well, what do you think?”

“Is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He shrugs, “Could be. I guess that depends on your answer.”

I roll my eyes, “Well, how could I ever say no after last night?” I joke. “Yes, Connor. I’d love nothing more.”

17,839 likes

Connorbrashier First of many couple shoots with my beautiful girl. (@y/n.insta)

photo creds; @samdameshek

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#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #repost from old blog

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wocfics · 4 years

Text

Merry Go Round

Part 2

Arranged Marriage Series

Masterlist

KSJ x Poc Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut- Talk about race/colorism

Word Count: 4k+

The schedule that you and Jin followed only worked out sometimes, which was bound to happen. You’d wake up around the same time that he did, which meant that he would have to go and use the guest bathroom to get ready but he liked doing his hair in the en suite bathroom because the mirror was bigger and the lighting was better, but you also liked using the bathroom to do your makeup even though you had a vanity in your bedroom. Sometimes you two would race to see who would end up in the bathroom first since neither one of you liked taking the trip down the hall to the other bathroom. It was just inconvenient.

Jin would cook both of you breakfast, yours only consisting of eggs, black tea and avocado toast since you had a big shoot coming up. Jin ate what you ate plus sausage before he’d have to head to the studio. He’d also make his lunch the night before, since you still felt like you didn’t need to cook if he already knew how. You would always buy yourself a light lunch, depending if Jin was cooking that night. The appointments you had lined up for you always kept your busy, auditions for commercials, interviews about photoshoots for certain magazines and actual photoshoots for clothing boutiques and websites.

Right now, your agent had contacted you about Elle Korea Magazine, wanting to do a cover photoshoot with you for an upcoming fashion designer. You were on top of everything all week, health, skin, hair and practicing different poses in the full length mirror that was across from your bed. Jin was busy with a lot of comeback rehearsals with the new album coming soon. It didn’t bother you too much that he was gone because you both were so busy.

Standing across from him at the island in the kitchen once you came through the door, remove your shoes and placed your bag down, you watched what he was cooking for a second before clearing your throat. “So, the photoshoot is tomorrow and I will be on the cover of Elle magazine in all of South Korea.” You announced. Jin looked over his shoulder and nodded. “That’s amazing. I’m sure the magazine will sell out quickly.” He finished up the steaks he cooked and placed them on two plates, adding the vegetables and kimchi on the side before placing your plate in front of you and taking a seat. You sat down and began eating, humming like you usually did when his food was good. “I know. I heard other girls were trying to get on that cover but they chose me instead. I’ve never met the designer though but I’ll meet her tomorrow before the shoot since I’m modeling her dresses.”

Jin just nodded and listened, eating his food and drank his water before talking. “The awards are coming up and BigHit feels like it would be good to bring you, the wives along with us for the first time since we all announced out marriages. It’s next week, I didn’t get the chance to tell you since we’ve both been so busy lately, and I want to wear pink so we can color coordinate.” He grabbed your plate when you were done while you wiped your hand and mouth on a napkin before nodding. “That’s fine with me. As long as I know what kind of dress I’ll be wearing.” You drank the rest of your water and cleaned up your own dishes and some of the ones Jin had since you didn’t want him up cleaning so many.

After a hot shower and placing a few twists in your hair while looking through your closet, Jin sat on the bed and watched you before sighing. “Hey, Y/N? There’s cooking classes you can take that I think you would like. It would help me a lot if you could help me cook some dishes, that way I’m not doing all of the cooking.” He spoke softly while you walked back over to the bed and stopped to stare at him. You? Cook? Shaking your head with a grin, you laughed a little. “Seokjin, I already told you that there’s already two-” “Y/N, I’m not going to be the only one cooking every single night because you don’t know how to cook. I work all the time just as much as you do and I’m completely exhausted when I get some and it would be nice if my wife would at least make me some spaghetti so that I’m not standing for another two hours to eat before getting ready for bed. Just take the class for a week or two, I’m not a personal chef and if you don’t, then might as well starve because I’m not cooking for the both of us every night until my fingers fall off.” He spoke all in one breath, the frustration, and exhaustion, clear on his face.

Honestly, you were surprised at him but at the same time, you really didn’t want to learn how to cook if he was better at it than you were. Rolling your eyes, you set your clothes on top of your dresser and climbed into the bed. “I honestly don’t see why we don’t just hire a chef to do all the cooking if it bothers you that much. I don’t want to cook.” You crossed your arms and his facial expression went from relaxed to pissed off and you could see it. “Y/N! Have you been so spoiled to the point where you thought I was going to cook for you everyday? I don’t want a personal chef because I don’t know them. Now you may have gotten away with wanting a house instead of an apartment but no, we’re not getting a chef because I want you to learn how to cook so we can cook together. I’d teach you myself and besides, how are you going to get anything done once I enlist into the military? Throw away the silver spoon you were born with and stop being a spoiled brat.” He snatched a pillow and walked out of the room after adding. “I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

Appalled wasn’t the word, stunned, yes. Spoiled? You grumbled and turned off the bedroom light. How could he call you spoiled? And a brat? You didn’t feel like dealing with this tonight. Not before the day of the most important photoshoot that would open up more than enough opportunities for you.

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You awoke the next day, getting up early to go for a morning jog, which you usually did sometimes. It was still a little dark out but the sun was beginning to rise slowly as you jogged around your neighborhood for about a half an hour. Heading back, you laid out your yoga mat in the backyard to stretch and relieve your muscles while thinking about what Jin had said the night before. You didn’t think about what you would be doing once he enlisted and although you two haven’t had the best communication when it came to this whole marriage, you had to blame yourself for some of it. It was something you would have to talk about later on when you got back.

Heading back inside and taking a hot shower, you made sure to scrub and shave everywhere before turning off the water and stepping out, wrapping a towel around your body and began brushing your teeth. Halfway through washing your face, you heard Jin’s alarm go off, which meant your time in the bathroom was up. Stepping out of the bathroom as he sleepily walked past you and mumbled good morning, you said it back and began getting ready. Going with the baby blue button up and black pencil skirt, you let your hair down from the twists that they were in and applied minimal makeup since it would be taken off at the shoot. You glanced at the clock that read 7:30 and sent a quick text to your agent while heading downstairs with black heels in your hand.

You decided to skip breakfast since you didn’t want to get bloated during the shoot and drank some tea instead, sipping away as Jin came down the stairs with his usual grey sweat outfit and baseball cap on his head. He looked you over before going to make himself a bagel. “Good luck with your shoot today. I know it’s important to you.” He spoke while applying slices of chicken on his bagel and cheese. Smiling you nodded. “Thank you, I’ll let you know how it goes when I get back. Have fun with rehearsals.” You grabbed your bag once you heard a horn beep outside and slid on your heels, grabbing your jacket and putting it on before heading out the door.

“Miss Kim Y/N, the designer...had a few changes to the shoot.” The set designer spoke while you walked into the building. “Oh, that’s fine. I’m sure I can just adjust to whatever it is.” You smiled while they walked and talked to you. “Um no, it’s not that, it’s-” You put your hand up once you walked into the room and saw the shoot, along with someone else getting pictures taken of them. “I thought this was a solo shoot?” You asked, watching the young woman, model the dresses that you knew you were supposed to be modeling. You narrowed your eyes before looking at your agent while they tapped away on your phone before looking at you. “The editor wants to talk to you in his office.” Soo, your agent, spoke up and you nodded before following her to the designated area.

You wanted to know what was going on anyways. Walking in, the editor held his hand up. “No need to sit, this will be fast.” He clasped his hands in front of him while keeping eye contact with you. “The designer didn’t know who would be modeling her clothing and I have never seen your profile until this morning so there’s a change of plans. As you can see a lot of the dresses are dark in color and the designer wanted to make sure they contrasted the model well...with pale skin.” His face didn’t change and neither did his tone. You nodded. “Okay...so what are you trying to say? I can make the dresses work, especially with different backdrops and props-`` ''Y/N, your skin color isn’t pale enough for the contrast we’re looking for. The model we have now is perfect for this shoot and her frame is more petite. We no longer need you.” He nodded and walked out.

You wore a blank stare, staring at the spot where he just left. Was this real life? Did he really just say what he just said to you about your skin? Blinking a few times, you turned on your heels and looked at your agent. “I’m going home. Cancel the rest of my week.” You walked past her and looked to where the shoot was happening, seeing the model and her fair skin twirl in the dress and smile at the camera. Turning away, you quickly walked out of the building and into the car you came him, telling them quickly to take you back home. Your heart was sinking into your stomach and the lump in your throat was forming. You had to hold it together, just until you got back home and away from this nightmare.

Walking into the house, you kicked off your heels and threw your purse across the living room, snatching off your jacket and dropping down onto the living room floor in front of the couch, burying your face in your hands and letting out the biggest sob you had been holding in since you left that building. Your assistant kept ringing your phone but you just chucked it across the floor, continuing to let the never ending river of tears fall down your cheeks, your mascara running with it.

You don’t know how long you had been crying but it was dark outside and you heard keys in the door. Jin. Standing up, you looked around for your phone and grabbed it from under the table where you launched it and stood up, catching Jin looking at you once he closed the door. He squinted at first before dropping his bag and rushing over to you, holding your face in his hands while looking you over. “What happened?” He asked, moving your hair from your face and repeating the question again. Words wouldn’t come out but more sobs and tears did and all he could do was pull you down onto the couch, to sit next to him and cradle your face in his chest.

He rubbed your back and just sat there, not asking you anymore, just holding you and letting you let everything out. Even if he was tired, this was the first time he had seen you in this state, sad and vulnerable. After an hour or so, you got quiet and just stared at the ground, not at anything in particular while he still held you. Slowly sitting up you looked at his shirt and closed your eyes for a second before opening them. “I ruined your shirt..” You whispered before looking up at him and seeing the sad look he gave you, probably from the way our eyes were now puffy and red from all the crying you did.

“It can be washed..” He took his thumbs and swiped them under your eyes to get rid of the runny mascara and wiped it on his shirt. “Can you tell me what happened today?” He asked and you looked down again. “T-They told me I couldn’t model the dresses today..” You sniffled some and sighed heavily before continuing. “My skin wasn’t pale enough for them, they needed someone lighter and smaller in bust and hips and not me because I don’t contrast well with dark colors and it’s not fair. I can’t help the way I look…” You started whining and covered your face with your hands. You hated crying but for some reason, Jin didn’t mind it at all. He just pulled you back to him again and this time, laid down with you on top of him, rubbing your back again.

Anger wasn’t the best way to sum up how he was feeling but he didn’t want to let that show. He would surely talk to BigHit tomorrow about all of this, he wasn’t going to sit around and let you get put down because of the color of your skin. Placing a kiss on your head, he tilted your chin up to look at him. “It’s their loss, I know you were excited to model clothes for them but someone else will see your beautiful face and call you. Maybe Vogue will call you, they’re much bigger than Elle.” He wiped under your eyes again and cooed. “Don’t cry, please. Although this is new, you showing this emotion, I don’t want to see you cry. You’re too pretty to cry.” That last part made you smile just a little and he smiled back.

Leaning up, you placed a kiss on his cheek and rested your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, for everything that’s happened over the past couple of months with us. This is probably why I never kept a relationship. I should be a better wife and learn how to cook, or at least bake. You’ll leave in the next year and I’ll need to manage while you’re gone. I’m sorry, Jin.” He shifted so you were looking at him and he was looking down at you. With one arm around your shoulders and the other on your back, he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

It wasn’t enough for you and you chased after his lips, soft and plush like pillows together. His full lips molded perfectly with your fulls ones, his hand immediately going to the back of your head and the other to your waist, pulling you directly on top of him, straddling over him. Your tongue found it’s way past his lips and you both moaned in sync before he sat up and moved so he was now sitting upright on the couch, holding you on his lap with your skirt bunched up to your hips. Lifting you up as he stood up, you held onto his shoulders and kissed over his neck as he carried you both up to the bedroom where he laid you down on the bed, quickly took off his shirt to which you sat up to take in the muscle definition he had. His chest and very visible abs had you looking over him more than once.

He walked over to you, pulling you towards the edge of the bed and began unbuttoning your shirt, taking it off and tossing it on the floor. Taking your breath away with another kiss, he moved his lips down your neck, to your collarbone and began decorating your skin with small bruises. “So beautiful, Jagiya.” He kissed back up to your lips, her hands carding through his hair, pulling him back on top of you and you pushed back up onto the bed.

His nickname gave you goosebumps, he was being so gentle with you, caressing your hips and slowly grinding down onto you. Your hands flew to his sweats, pushing them down along with his boxers as his hands came up to knead your breasts through your bralette, quickly removing the fabric from your body and leaning down to take one nipple between his lips, gently rolling his tongue around it while his fingers teased the other bud that was beginning to harden. A sigh escaping your lips and your eyes never left him, pushing his dark hair back so you could see him. He moved to the other breast and did the same, moving one hand down to urge you to remove your skirt, which you quickly did.

Pulling his head back up to kiss him again, his pushed your legs apart one hand moving between your legs to slide two fingers between your folds and gently circle your clit, a moan escaping your lips as he stared down at you. “You’re already so wet for me…” He dipped his fingers into you, pulling another moan from you before he pulled them back out and laid down, pulling you on top of him. “Ride me, Y/N.” His hands smoothing over your hips before he lifted them up. Your face flushed at his words before you raised your hips, aligned him at your entrance and slowly sunk down onto his length. He was bigger than you imagined, long and wide and you felt the slight burn as he stretched you out on your way down until you bottomed out.

Breathing heavily, you waited to adjust, humming when he rubbed your lower back and slightly bucked his hips to let you know to start moving. Placing your hands on his chest, you lifted your hips and brought them back down, going slowly at first before picking up a little more speed, your legs trembling from the pleasure that was overwhelming you. You tossed your head back, moaning before looking down at him, his eyes never leaving yours as he gripped onto your hips, moving you at a faster pace. “Oh my God…” You moaned and dropped your head into the crook of his neck once he wrapped an arm around your lower back and began pounding up into you, making you whine and moan into his neck.

The feeling of your peak was coming and you moved your hips in time with his, every time he thrusted up, you brought your hips down, which made you both shudder. Sitting back up, you gripped onto the sheets beneath you and rocked your hips back and forth, hearing him groan and dig his fingernails into your hips. “I’m gonna cum. Jinnie…” You breathed. He growled, holding you down and crashing his hips upwards into yours while taking his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit.

You immediately felt a wave of pleasure run through you, your body shivering as you came, continuing to move your hips as he became sloppy and groaned a few times before finally releasing inside of you, holding your hips down on him as his head tossed back into the pillows. You kissed you again, you happily kissing him back and pulling him out of you, feeling some of his release leak out of you, you laid down next to him and kissed his cheek before looking at him. You both caught your breath before you both heard and felt your stomach growling, causing him to chuckle and kiss your cheek. “Did you not eat at all today?” He asked, brushing your hair from your face. Laying your head on his chest you shrugged. “I’ll eat in the morning. I still have energy left for something else.”

Raising a brow, he looked down at you, grinning. “And what something else would that be, hm?” He kissed your forehead.

Rubbing your hand over his chest, you looked up at him. “Sleep.” You teased and he rolled his eyes before burying his face into your neck and kissing you, causing you to laugh from it tickling. “Get some sleep, you’ll need it.” He pecked your lips again before taking his place back beside you and pulling you close to his chest. “We’ll both need the energy since tomorrow is our day off together.” He mumbled.

“You’re right. I don’t think we’ll leave this bed after that.”

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The next couple of days were spent partially in bed (mostly because Jin was way more handsy than you thought and for the fact that you could barely walk the next day) and the other was spent getting ready for the awards. Everything with Jin was perfect after that night. He woke you up with kisses to your neck, held you until you both were ready to get out of bed. You both did yoga together and he taught you how to make an omelet, which at first you were against because you didn’t want to cook but wanted to at least try.

You avoided any Elle magazine since it wasn’t you on the cover and Jin could see the pain in your eyes when you passed a billboard with the new model’s face on it. He’d just grab your hand and kiss your knuckles.

The day of the awards, you stood in the dressing room after putting on your baby pink A line mini dress, the back was open in a heart shape and your hair was pinned up in a neat curly bun with pink clips. You sat in the makeup chair, while each one of the other wives left the room one by one after they were done. Checking over your makeup in the mirror and applying a bit more lipstick, you slipped on matching pink heels and made your way out of the room where the other wives were waiting for you. Of course you’d be the last one out, but it wasn’t purposely.

Once the boys arrived it was off to the awards where you stood next to Jin, keeping a hand tucked under his arm as you two took photos and answered various questions, thankfully none regarding anything related to you about the shoot. “You look so beautiful, a little better than I do tonight actually.” Jin mumbled as you walked inside. You nudged his side and grinned as he laughed. “You’re still Worldwide Handsome.” You fixed the collar of the pink suit jacket he wore and let him kiss your forehead once you two were seated so he could join the rest of BTS.

The performances were great, you quietly sang along to the songs and cheered when BTS won awards, waving at cameras than panned over to you and the other wives when mentioned. When the awards came to an ending and Jin came back along with the rest of the boys, you all left to go to the after party. The night carried on but not for too long, you were able to mingle, have a few glasses of wine before leaving.

Not only did you work things out with Jin, but now it opened up new things for you two to do together. On the ride home, he leaned closer to you to talk in your ear. “I have off for a week and I want to spend it with you, so I got us tickets to New Zealand.” Your eyes went wide and you smiled, squeezing his hand and hugging him. “I can’t wait! When do we leave?” You asked, kissing his cheek and then wiping off the lipstick smudge that was there.

“We leave tomorrow night.”

#kim seokjin #BTS jin #bts seokjin #worldwide handsome #bts poc #bts x poc #bts x black reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #jin imagine #seokjin imagine #kpop poc #pockpop #poc bts

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ft-dads-au · 4 years

Text

Taken By Storm

Gratsu Weekend 2020 Prompt: Storm Pairing(s): Gray x Natsu, Gray & Lyon, Rogue & Gray A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 AO3 | FF.Net

October 7, 2020

Gray exited the grocery store surprised to see it had already turned dark in the short time he’d been inside. A pelting, cold rain had also begun to fall, making the chilly fall afternoon feel even colder. His arms were laden with paper bags containing their food for the week.

Since Lyon refused to accept any money for rent or even his legal services outside of the occasional filing fee, Gray tried to find other ways to pay him back. So every week, he made a trip to the grocery store with Aki, his two-year-old son. Lyon grumbled about it at first, but after the first few weeks, he’d recognized his protests were futile. Although Gray had a nagging suspicion that it had more to do with his friend realizing it was one of the few times he would willingly set foot outside of the apartment on his own.

This was Gray’s first time going alone, and it had been difficult. Without Aki to distract him with his chatter, he’d felt the familiar anxiety rise within him. The weight of eyes that may or may not have been focused on him made him hurry down the aisles throwing items in his cart. The sound of people whispering near the checkouts stressed him out, especially when he recognized his face on the cover of one of the magazines. It was from an interview and photoshoot he’d done months earlier for a men’s magazine. Long before he’d decided to grab Aki and make his escape. He was happy there wasn’t much of a line, desperate to get out quickly, and already considering the possibility of looking into a delivery service now that Aki had begun to attend daycare a few days a week.

He honestly loathed the idea, but his therapist had insisted that he needed to do it for Aki’s sake as well as his own. The codependency they were developing from Gray’s over-protectiveness would only hinder them moving forward. But even that short separation caused him almost incapacitating levels of anxiety. Thoughts of Siegrain showing up and taking Aki away plagued him. The first day he’d sat in the parking lot the entire time Aki was inside the community center.

He’d gotten a little bit better since then, but not much, and now that his errand was over, all he wanted was to get to that community center and bring his son home. He hastily opened the trunk of his car and dropped the bags inside, slamming it shut and rushing to the driver’s door, wanting to get out of the rain before he got any wetter.

Gray slid in and closed the door. Leaning his head back on his seat’s headrest, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to let the past forty-five minutes fade away. It took him a few minutes to register that there had been no beeps when he’d opened the door. Come to think of it, the radio hadn’t come on either. Opening his eyes again, he glanced at the displays on his car, noticing with increasing dread that they were all off.

He checked to make sure his key was in his pocket before pushing on the start button, but no matter how many times he pressed it, the outcome remained the same. His car was dead. He tried to stay calm, searching his pockets for his phone and not finding it. That alone set him off for a good five minutes. What if something had happened to Aki? They wouldn’t be able to reach him.

Calm down, both Rogue and Lyon are listed as emergency contacts. If something had happened and the daycare staff couldn’t reach you, they would have called one of them. Lyon and Rogue know where you are, they would have come to get you.

Gray repeated the words to himself, trying to do as his therapist had asked. He reminded himself that there were measures in place to handle just this type of situation, but no matter how rational it sounded, it did nothing to quiet his panic. Instead, he kept pressing the button over and over until he finally just went back out in the rain, slamming the car door as hard as he could in his frustration.

Staring at the car and not knowing what else to do, he began to take his frustrations out on it. He kicked and punched it furiously.

“START GODDAMMIT!”

“Have you tried using the key?” A slightly amused voice came from behind him, and Gray stood stock still.

No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

He turned around, and sure enough, there stood Natsu Dragneel, that ever-present and annoying grin plastered on his face. Out of all people, it just had to be him.

“Oh, good idea, I’ll try that right aw- Of course, I tried the key, you idiot!” Gray snapped, coiled up from stress and worry. “This glorified tin can just won’t fucking start. I think the battery is dead, but I can’t call Triple-A because I somehow forgot my phone, and I have to pick up Aki from daycare in 10 minutes!”

As if some higher power had decided that this was not his day, it started to rain heavier. It was coming down in buckets now, and Gray raised his head and his hands up towards the sky, “Sure! Why not?!”

“You can borrow my phone if you want,” Natsu offered with a shrug, putting up an umbrella. “See if someone else is available to pick Aki up for you. In the meantime, let me take a look at your car.”

“Why on Earth would I ever let you anywhere near my car?!” Gray spat, his tone much sharper than he meant for it to be, but he was really agitated and seeing the source of his constant confusion near him at a time like this was more than he could deal with at the moment.

He’d never admitted it to anyone, but Natsu had been the reason he’d started going to therapy. Well, not the man himself but the feelings he had evoked in him during that disastrous intervention they’d had for him in August.

Feelings he’d been trying to avoid for a long time, about his relationship with Siegrain and about himself. And now he could add his confusion about his growing attraction to Natsu to the list. That night he’d felt something for Natsu that he wasn’t quite ready to accept yet. So he’d made a point of staying away from him, only coming into contact at Dad’s Club Meetings.

Natsu sighed, running his fingers through pink locks that had darkened with the rain, “Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? You’re a dad, I’m a dad, I get it. You’re freaking out because you don’t want Aki to be alone or scared. I’d feel the same way, and that’s why you’re going to swallow your stupid pride and let me help you.”

He handed Gray his umbrella and his phone, which was a low-end smartphone, nothing like his own. It reminded him that Natsu had probably been on his way to work when he stopped and made him feel terrible for his less than grateful response.

“Thank you, “ he amended before calling his brother, thankful Rogue was in Natsu’s contacts since he couldn’t remember the number on a good day.

As the phone rang, he watched Natsu get in the driver’s seat and try to start the car, checking if he could turn on the radio or the lights. When nothing happened, he pulled the handle that opened the hood of the car so he could take a look underneath.

“Natsu?” Rogue’s voice came on the other line, and Gray breathed a sigh of relief.

“No, it’s me, Gray,” he corrected, “Listen I need-”

“Gray? What are you doing with Natsu’s phone? Is Natsu alright?!” Rogue interrupted, his voice filled with concern.

“What? Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Are you alright? Why are you calling on his phone?”

“I forgot mine. I’m at the grocery store, my car won’t start, and he found me here. Do you think you could pick Aki up for me? I’m stuck,” Gray swept a lock of wet hair out of his face, still a bit on edge as he looked across the parking lot. If there was one positive thing to say about the weather, it was that it made people hurry to their cars, not paying him any attention.

“Oh! Yeah, sure. Thankfully Sting didn’t take the car today, so I can drive there, it’s really coming down.”

“Yeah...no shit…”

The happy shrieks of the twins could be heard in the background, along with at least three different sound-producing toys. Then the sounds became less audible as Rogue moved away from them a little, muttering something about grandparents and noisy gifts. “It’s a good thing Natsu is there if you’re having issues with your car,” he mused.

“Why?”

“Uhm, cause he’s an auto mechanic.”

“Oh,” Gray felt like an even bigger idiot for being difficult, “I thought he was a bartender.”

“He’s that too, but he used to work as a mechanic in Edolas.” Rogue explained, “Shit, I gotta go. If I want to make it to the community center in time I should get the twins ready now. See you later, call me if I need to pick you up or anything. And Gray?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice, he’s helping you out,” Rogue reminded him, hanging up before Gray could reply.

Gray sighed, knowing his brother was right. Now that he knew Aki would be taken care of by someone he trusted, he let himself relax. He turned back to his car to see that although the hood of his car was still open, Natsu was nowhere to be found. Gray finally located him, hurrying back with a large toolbox.

“Where did you get that?” Gray asked curiously.

“My car,” Natsu explained as he balanced the toolbox on the radiator, and this was where Gray realized that while he was standing under an umbrella, Natsu was utterly drenched. His usually spiky hair was matted down, while his white button-down shirt stuck to his chest, revealing the taut muscles underneath. Gray quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring, but the image remained in his brain, and he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt.

Still, he thought he should do something as the rain continued to come down, some of it turning to ice in the chilly October afternoon. He peered at what Natsu was looking at, but it was all just a dark mess to him.

“You might as well just sit in the car, no sense in both of us getting wet.”

“That doesn’t exactly seem fair,” Gray protested, but Natsu only waved him off.

“No offense, but you’ll only get in the way.”

Natsu removed a lantern from his toolbox, turning it on and somehow hanging it from the underside of the hood. He rolled up his sleeves, drying his hands on a small towel and donning a pair of work gloves before grabbing some gadget Gray didn’t recognize and attaching it to the battery.

“I’m going to check the battery’s charge with this multimeter, so we can get a better idea of who the likely culprit is,” Natsu informed him although it felt more like he was talking to himself.

His nose scrunched up cutely as he aimed the lantern at the tool and squinted his eyes, trying to make out the result in the poor lighting, “Well, the good news is your battery seems to be charged. Is this the first time this has happened?”

“Yeah, I bought it a few months ago, but I don’t really use it much,” Gray admitted, the car mostly sat in Lyon’s garage, it wasn’t even registered in his name.

It was just one of the many security measures Lyon insisted on to try to keep him and Aki hidden from his soon to be ex-husband for as long as possible.

Natsu nodded in acknowledgment, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere, and after waiting for a few minutes for him to say anything else, Gray decided to take his advice and go sit in the car. At this point, all he was doing was hovering. Not to mention getting distracted by thoughts he really shouldn’t be having about a clearly straight man who was not only recently widowed but also happened to be the father of one of the few kids Aki seemed to really like.

Gray had to admit Natsu seemed very comfortable working on his car, but it was more than that. Thanks to the illumination of the lantern, Gray had been able to see the expression on Natsu’s face. It was content in a way that he’d had never seen from him before.

He looked like he was actually enjoying himself, making Gray wonder why Natsu would choose to work two jobs as a bartender rather than finding what had to be a higher paying job doing something he clearly enjoyed.

It also reinforced how little he actually knew about the man. He took Natsu’s phone out of his pants pocket, the temptation to look through it overwhelming. However, the car radio suddenly came to life, making him startle enough that he almost dropped the device. The radio was soon followed by the soft glow of the instrument lights.

A light tapping on his window alerted him to Natsu’s presence at the driver’s door. The poor guy looked wetter than before if that was even possible. Gray pushed the window button, and it immediately began to lower.

“Oh good, the electric systems are back! “Natsu remarked brightly at the window’s descent, and the satisfaction in his voice was hard to miss, “Try starting the car now.”

Gray pushed the ignition button, and the car came to life, prompting him to exclaim, “You’re a genius! What was wrong?”

“Your battery connectors were corroded, I cleaned them up,” Natsu explained, “You should be good for a while, but you might want to get it checked out in case it’s a symptom of something else. You don’t want to get stuck somewhere with Aki.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gray agreed, “Oh God, you’re drenched, get in the car!”

Natsu looked down at himself and laughed even though he was shivering a little, “Nah, it’s fine. No sense in getting your car wet, you’ll never get the smell out. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m as wet as I’m going to get. Can I have my phone back? I need to call in to let them know I’ll be late.”

“Yeah, here,” Gray shoved the phone at Natsu, feeling guilty for almost being caught invading his privacy.

He watched Natsu make his phone call, and he closed the window back up to give him some privacy, but he was still able to listen, “Hey Jellal, I’m gonna be late.”

“No, everything’s fine. I just bumped into a friend who was having car trouble, and now I’m kind of drenched.”

“That full? Oh crap, I forgot all about the Happy Hour, I’m sorry. I’ll just- uhm, I’ll suck it up. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

Gray patted down his shirt, checking to see how wet it was. When he found it mostly dry, he unbuttoned it and quickly took it off and offered it. “Here, take mine.”

He also took out his wallet and pulled out four one thousand jewel notes to give to Natsu for fixing his car.

“Put that away, I’m not going to charge a friend in trouble,” Natsu’s eyes flashed, and Gray had the feeling that he’d managed to insult him.

“Fine, but at least take the shirt, you’re gonna catch your death, and Aki will never forgive me if he can’t play with Atlas because I made you get sick,” he reasoned, trying to salvage the situation as best he could. “Besides you’ve stained yours, you can’t show up to work like that. I’ll get it cleaned for you.”

Natsu looked down at his white shirt and cursed when he saw the state it was in, “Yeah okay, won’t you be uncomfortable with no shirt, though?”

“Nah, I’m used to it, my last job sort of required it,” Gray hedged, not wanting to disclose too much, he felt like he could trust Natsu, but he was too used to keeping things close to the vest.

Natsu burst out laughing, “Don’t tell me you were a stripper?”

Gray frowned, trying to contain his annoyance at the implication, “No, nothing like that.”

“I was just kidding,” Natsu amended with a smile, “Well, let me grab my stuff, and then I’ll change. Do you think I can leave my toolbox with you? If I go back to my car again, I’m going to be really late.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gray tried to ignore the giddy feeling in his stomach at the thought that he would see him again soon.

While Natsu collected his belongings, Gray put the shirt in the car so it wouldn’t get any wetter than it already was, and then he ran back inside the grocery store and purchased a large coffee from their cafe. He received a few strange looks at his shirtless state, but no one said anything to him.

Natsu was just closing the hood of the car when Gray came out with the hot drink. He hurried over to his car to help cover Natsu with the umbrella while he changed. Not yet aware of his presence Natsu picked up the toolbox and walked back to the driver’s side, setting it down next to him. He searched through its contents removing a small towel. He unbuttoned his soaked and dirty shirt quickly and used the towel to dry himself off as much as possible, seemingly uncaring of anyone watching. Gray stood hypnotized, his eyes following Natsu’s every move until he realized what he was doing.

He soon averted his eyes, knowing if Natsu looked up, he’d see just how flustered he was making him. The ground. Yeah, the ground was good. The expanding circles caused by raindrops landing in the puddles provided a temporary distraction. At the same time, he sheltered Natsu from the rain with the umbrella, following him as he grabbed the shirt Gray had left for him on the driver’s seat.

“Much better, thanks, Gray!” Natsu exclaimed cheerfully.

Gray had thought it was safe to look back up again, now that Natsu was wearing his shirt, but he hadn’t been prepared for the blinding smile that was on his face, or how hot Natsu would look wearing his shirt and both things hit him like a freight train.

“Yeah...no problem,” he mumbled, holding out the cup of coffee. “Uhm...for you. I didn’t know how you drink your coffee, so-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a handful of packets of creamer and sugar. When he gave them to Natsu, their hands touched, and Gray really shouldn’t have felt the way he did about that. Why was this happening to him now? He didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to even deal with the idea of being interested in anyone yet, let alone this potential disaster that stood in front of him.

“Can you pop the trunk so I can put the toolbox in there?”

“Just give it to me, I’ll put it on the passenger seat, I’ve got groceries in the trunk, and I don’t want Aki getting into it in the backseat.”

Natsu grunted his agreement, handing the toolbox over before teasing, “I sure hope you didn’t buy ice cream.”

“It’s October, Natsu,” Gray reminded him, “It wouldn’t melt anyway.”

Natsu’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “You really need to lighten up, dude. I know, that was a joke.”

“Oh,” Gray replied awkwardly, “Right.”

“Anyway, I gotta go, don’t want to get on Jellal’s bad side,” Natsu grabbed his umbrella from Gray, waiting until he got back in the car. “Drive safe, it’s really coming down,” he cautioned, giving a friendly wave before heading off towards Crime Sorciere.

Gray watched him walk away before realizing he hadn’t even thanked him. “Natsu!”

Natsu turned around mid-step and waited to see what Gray wanted.

“Thank you.”

Natsu nodded his head in acknowledgment, rewarding him with one last smile and a wave before turning around and continuing his walk to work.

Gray remained in the parking lot until he could no longer see him, and then he drove to Rogue’s house to pick up his son.

0-0

“How hard do you think it is to get a GED?” Gray asked Lyon later that night.

“Huh? Why would you care about that? You graduated high school ages ago.” Lyon put the legal book he’d been studying on his desk, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes before peering at Gray with interest.

“Well, I found out from Sting that Natsu can’t work as a mechanic in Magnolia cause he never finished high school,” Gray explained, squirming under Lyon’s gaze.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Lyon massaged his forehead, “You can’t afford to do this right now, Gray.”

“Do what? I just asked a simple question,” Gray groused.

“Right, how long have I known you?” Lyon snickered at him.

“Nevermind, I’ll look it up online,” Gray grumbled, typing in the search term and pointedly ignoring the question.

“Gray,” Lyon said in a softer voice, “What is this about?”

“He helped me out today, I just want to repay the favor, that’s all.”

“Do you remember that girl your sophomore year at Lamia, what was her name?”

“Oh God, do not bring her up!”

Lyon started to laugh, “You had such a raging hard-on for her you taught yourself Astronomy, to get her through her class and you into her pants. This reminds me of that.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted me to make new friends?”

“Friends yes, crushes on handsome straight guys while in the middle of a divorce, no.”

Gray wanted to protest, but he knew it was a losing battle, Lyon knew him too well for him to get away with a lie, “It’s not like that, I mean yes I might feel something for him, but I have no intention of doing anything about it. It’s just, the guy’s killing himself working two jobs and taking care of his kids, and if he took this test and passed it, his life would improve.”

“Besides, I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like we’re similar in some ways. We’re both stuck at a certain point in our lives. But unlike me, all Natsu has to do to get back to doing what he enjoys is pass a test. Well, four tests apparently,” he corrected after looking at the screen.” I want to help him get there, as a friend.”

Lyon snapped his fingers suddenly, “Karen Lilica, that was her name.”

“Thank you for buying him a deluxe study guide, you’re too kind,” Gray retorted as he entered Lyon’s credit card information on the online form and completing the order.

Lyon snorted good-naturedly, not upset in the slightest, “Natsu’s a good guy. If this really does help him, I’m happy to do whatever I can. Just please watch yourself, I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“I told you, this is strictly platonic,” Gray complained, even though he knew it was not only pointless but also a bit of a stretch.

“I’m pretty sure your dick has no clue what that means,” Lyon noted before putting his glasses back on and returning to his book, somehow managing to dodge the pillow Gray threw at him.

0-0

Three Days later

Natsu heard a knock on his front door and hurried to look through the peephole.

Gray?

Gray Fullbuster was indeed standing outside his door, holding his toolbox in one hand and two large coffees in a cardboard holder from Magnolia Bean in the other. Aki stood next to him, holding a tote bag.

Natsu had no idea why his sort of friend was standing outside his door, but he’d been feeling kind of down after dropping Hana at school that morning, so he welcomed the company. He opened the door, beaming when Aki offered him one of his rare smiles before handing him the tote bag.

“Atlas?” Aki asked, hiding his hands behind his back and looking down at the floor.

“Come in, I’ll go get him,” Natsu beckoned them inside, closing the door behind them. Before he ever had a chance to locate his son Atlas had already made his presence known, jumping up and down and clapping happily as he recognized his friend.

Natsu and Gray wore matching dopey expressions as they watched Atlas drag Aki over to the playroom.

“Here let me take that,” Realizing that Gray was still holding the coffee and the toolbox, Natsu quickly grabbed the cardboard holder and motioned for Gray to put the toolbox down by the entrance.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

He could have sworn that Gray looked nervous, which was unusual, given that generally he just seemed kind of grumpy.

“Look inside the bag,” Gray ordered, his voice sounding gruff.

Natsu led Gray to the breakfast nook that was right off the kitchen, setting the holder down carefully on the round table. “Are you hungry? There are some muffins my sister made,” he offered politely.

“Just look in the bag,” Gray repeated, and this time Natsu was sure of it. Whatever was in the bag was making his friend nervous.

“Alriiight, “he drawled. He peered inside the bag to find his shirt, which had been dry cleaned. Natsu smirked, thinking the service might have cost more than the shirt itself. Inside the bag, there was also a book.

GED Study Guide 2020 All Subjects: All Subjects Test Prep & Practice Test Questions

“What’s this?” Natsu looked down at the book in his hands, not knowing how he was supposed to react.

“Look, Sting told me about why you can’t get a job as a mechanic,” Gray confessed, “All you have to do is pass this stupid test, and you can go back to it.”

Natsu stared at Gray in dismay, “It’s not that simple, I wasn’t even good at school when I was in it.”

“You’re not going to do it alone, I’m going to help you,” Gray assured him, “I once got a girl through Astronomy, without knowing a thing about it beforehand, you’re in great hands!”

“I don’t know,” Natsu hedged, remembering how hard studying had always been for him. Half the time, the information wouldn’t stick in his head, not to mention he had a hard time sitting still.

“Natsu, you can do this, trust me,” Gray’s intensity was a little intimidating, but Natsu was beginning to get fired up by the idea. It would be nice to have a regular day job again.

“Look, the test is broken up into four subjects, and you can take each one separately. We can focus on one subject at a time, and even if you don’t pass the first time, you can keep retaking it until you do. You can do this!” Gray repeated, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly.

“Okay, calm down there,” Natsu removed Gray’s arms from his shoulders, frowning at the change in the other man’s expression. Did he look hurt?

He shook the thought away, that was ridiculous. He looked down at the book again, touched that Gray had obviously put so much effort into this.

“I just cleaned your battery connectors. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Do you enjoy being a bartender?”

“It’s okay,” Natsu shrugged, he didn’t really enjoy getting hit on constantly, but the tips were good.

“Wouldn’t you rather be working on cars? I saw the way you looked when you worked on my car man. You were happy. I’ve never seen you look like that when you tend bar. You literally have nothing to lose, unless it’s because I’m the one helping you?”

Natsu laughed, “Guilt, really?”

Gray shrugged, “Figured it was worth a try.”

Natsu sighed, “I really hope neither one of us ends up regretting this.”

“It’ll be great, and the kids can play while we work. What’s your schedule like?”

They sat at the table, sipping their coffee and exchanging schedules. Once they had agreed on what days to meet Gray became serious.

“Alright, let’s get started!” He took the book from Natsu’s hands, and determined, laid it out on the table. “Didn’t you say something about muffins?”

“You want to start now?” Natsu’s eyes widened in surprise. This was not how he’d imagined his day would go, he needed time to process everything they’d just discussed. He was slightly nervous about the idea of picking up his studies after so many years, but if all went well, he’d be able to find a job doing something that he loved. He wouldn’t have to deal with late-night shifts anymore, and he’d have more time and energy to spend with his kids.

“Yes, now, you idiot,” Gray sighed, “What subject do you want to start with? There’s Math, Science, Social Studies and Reasoning Through Language Arts.”

“They all sound impossible,” Natsu muttered under his breath before replying, “Just pick one, I doubt it will make much difference.”

“Math it is!,” Gray answered in what passed as cheerful for him, “You might need it for Science so we might as well get it done first.”

Natsu glanced into the playroom to see Atlas playing with Aki, both boys looking happy in their own little world, and wished his life were still that simple. With a sigh, he got up to grab the muffins from the kitchen, trying to muster up some enthusiasm for the torture he knew lay ahead of him.

A/N: We are very excited to finally enter into the gratsu portion of our AU. We hope to follow their relationship after the events of She Was My Home, (you don't need to read it to follow but it might help), all the way to them becoming a couple. This is the first of eight stories we hope to publish for this event. They will be posted in chronological order, rather than prompt order. We really hope you enjoy their journey!

@fuckyeahgratsu

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #gratsu #gratsuweekend2020 #ftlgbtales #fics #gray & lyon #rogue & gray #prompt: storm #natsu x gray #gray x natsu

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taesbetch · 5 years

Text

02| Its Better Now

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst Hybrid!AU

Summary: Finally having her life together Y/N decides she wants to help out any way she can. When she hears about a hybrid bust she signs up to foster knowing that the shelters are filling up fast. What she doesn't expect is the “aggressive” and “cold” hybrid boy to wriggle his way into her heart.

Word Count: 1.7k

“Yoongi!” You called as you examined the ripped-up pillows in front of you. After a long day of work, you wanted to come home and relax with your hybrid, but instead you stood in front of your couch looking at the mess made by a bored Yoongi.

It wasn’t the first time he had done this.

In fact, it wasn’t even the second. Whenever he would get bored his energy always got directed to your poor couch cushions and not one of the multiple toys you had bought him.

You even purchased a few large teddy bears for the exact purpose of destroying them.

Yoongi sheepishly shuffled into the room, his ears flat against his head as a soft blush spread across his cheeks. You sighed as you placed your hands on your hips trying hard not to scowl the boy and scare him.

“again?” you asked in shock as your hand pointed to the disastrous living room.

“You didn’t even hide the evidence” You added with a frustrated chuckle.

“I’m sorry” he whispered as you started picking up fluff.

You watched him carefully. His pupils were shaking as his hands gripped the edge of his jumper nervously.

You noticed how often he did this whenever he was in some sort of trouble. You admit it was adorable, but you didn’t want him feeling anxious over every little thing he did.

“Yoongi, its okay” you cooed as you made your way over to him. His eyes lifted of the ground to look at yours, studying your expression to make sure what he was hearing was correct.

“i-its okay? You don’t hate me?” he stuttered quietly, his voice cracking as you planted you hand on his head.

“Of course, not you silly monkey” You said as the boy whined.

Scratching his ears, you smiled as his whining turned into purring. You puma hybrid had done a complete 180 from the first time you brought him home.

From a timid and cold boy to a soft and shy pile of mush. This was now your life, coming home to ripped up cushions and a guilty hybrid, but you wouldn’t have it any other day.

“I’m so sorry, I just get so bored when you’re not home. You usually don’t have to go in so often, its weird without you here” he confessed.

You smiled at the boy before sighing deeply. You knew it’d be hard for him when you took up the new project at your company, but it wouldn’t be long til he had you all to himself again.

“I know bud, hey why don’t you come with me tomorrow! I have to overlook a photoshoot, it’ll be boring but at least you’ll be with me?” you suggested, his eyes lighting up at the words, come with me.

“really? I can come with you?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face. You nodded as a laugh made its way out of your body.

The boy was happy just being with you and if bring him to work was what it took to save your home and keep your hybrid entertained then so be it.

“we leave tomorrow at 8am” You said before walking to the bin, mentally putting cushions on your shopping list.

Yoongi sat, fully content with just watching you help around the photoshoot.

You would often feel bad about leaving him alone, so it was nice to bring him along. As you approved a list of items, they needed to include you looked towards your hybrids whose eyes were stuck on you.

The place was crowded and full of people rushing around. Your co-worker sam had been running back and forth, greeting Yoongi when she could as she handed you files after files.

Smiling at him before returning your attention back to your work your co-worker noticed how attentive he was.

“You should bring him along more often” she smiled as you signed the paperwork.

“I thought he’d be bored here too, but it looks like he’s doing okay” You said as you passed her the pen.

“I think it has something to do with company. My first one taehyung was a little sceptical until I got my second one. I think when they have another hybrid with them, it calms them down.” She stated.

“interesting…hey, do you think I could bring Yoongi over? Maybe having other hybrid friends would help?” you asked her.

The two of you had been over to each other’s houses before but it had mainly been for work.

“yea of course you can, I’m sure they’ll get along just fine” she smiled before heading of with the files.

You nodded your head excitedly as you looked back over to Yoongi thinking about what kind of hybrid friend you should get for him.

The end of the day came quicker than you thought it would.

Yoongi was a bit hesitant at first but once you told him it would make you happy, he was all for it.

As the two of you drove in silence, you felt the eyes of your puma burning into the side of your head.

“yes?” You giggled as you turned your head to him for a brief second before turning back to the road.

The sun was glowing brightly and even though you looked at him no longer than a few seconds you noted how honey his eyes were in the sun.

“nothing” he whispered before he turned his head towards the window watching the cars coming from the opposite direction.

Arriving at your co-workers house your mind immediately thought of the perfect family home.

Her lawn was perfectly cut, the house was white and radiant, surrounded by flowers of all kind, neatly organised into perfect sections. If she didn’t open the door holding a tray of freshly baked cookies, you would be disappointed.

The two of you walked up the pathway to her door, the welcome mat giving Yoongi uneasy vibes.

Knocking on the door you shot Yoongi a reassuring look, whispering that he’ll be fine.

“hey!” She said as she ushered the two of you inside.

“Hey sam” you smiled still shocked at how utterly clean and put together her home was.

“This is my dog hybrid taehyung and my cat hybrid Namjoon!” She chirped as the two hybrids lined up in front of you, smiling warmly.

“Its very nice to meet the both of you! im y/n and this is my puma hybrid Yoongi” You said as you placed your hand on his back, giving him a pat of encouragement.

Yoongi gave a half smile to the two hybrids before grabbing your hand and shuffling closer towards you.

As you and Sam watched the boys play on the x-box you spoke of fluff such as the work and personal lives but as you watched the interaction of her two hybrids you couldn’t help but the urge to get Yoongi a friend strengthening.

“I know this really cool shelter that let your hybrid and the one you would like to get bond before you take them home” She said out of the blue.

Seeing your shocked face, she smiled at you before saying anything else.

“For Yoongi. A friend? Your clearly keen on the idea” she said as she sipped her tea.

“mmm, I am pretty keen on the idea…do you mind sending me the info. Yoongis a very picky hybrid so that shelter sounds amazing” You stated as she nodded along with every word you said.

“of course. If you were to get another one you want to make sure they’re a perfect match for Yoongi” she added.

You hmmed in agreement as you looked back to the three hybrids having a ball of a time. Getting more excited at the idea of your family getting bigger.

The playdate was nice for both you and Yoongi, you got to get a better idea of what life with another hybrid would look like and Yoongi got to make more friends.

As the two of you waved good and drove off, the car was filled with the same silence it was on the way here.

“Did you ha-“You started before being cut off by an angered Yoongi.

“I can’t believe you want to replace me, you said you didn’t hate me” he huffed in anger his eyes welling up with tears.

Shocked you pulled over the car, making sure that what he said was actually what you headed. Turning your head, you looked at Yoongi in complete disbelief and he folded his arms looking away from You.

“Yoongi, where is this coming from? I would never want to replace you, I love you to death you silly puma” You argued, your eyebrows knitting together.

As cars rushed past you Yoongi slowly looked at you, tears running down his face.

“you love me? Really? Do you mean it?” he said his voice quaking.

You cooed as you wiped his tears away, your heart breaking at the fact that he thought you didn’t want him anymore.

“Then why were you talking about getting another hybrid?” he asked with a pout.

“For you! a friend. I thought you could use one” you sighed as you ran your hand through your hair.

“i…I don’t want one” He whined his eyes exposing his lies.

“are you sure?” You asked slowly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“No, But…I don’t want one right now. I just want you to love me and only me. No sharing of your affection” He said before pouting cutely, grabbing your hand.

You giggled before giving his ears a scratch.

“well okay then, for now, its just you and me” You said before pulling away from him and starting the engine.

As you drove home you heard the soft purring of your hybrid from beside you. you heard him whisper something, but your ears couldn’t quite make it out. You shrugged it off as you looked forward to the future with you and your lovely hybrid Yoongi.

“Just you and me” he had repeated before turning to the window, the smile on his face wider than any smile he had made before.

i know its short but sis there wasn't even gonna be a second part and now its a three parter so cut me some slack. the next one will be a little longer but not like a regualr 5k post AIGHT. lots of love, taesbetch xxxx

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virmillion · 5 years

Text

Ibytm - T minus 43 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,994

If you were to ask Logan, straight faced, no pomp, no circumstance, why he’s waited so long to tell Virgil about his promotion, he would probably do one of two things. Tell you the truth, or walk away in silence. Whether that silence is ashamed is up to you.

He’s hidden the new position for a couple months now—working closely with Mr. Jolenta all the while—and he still hasn’t told Virgil about it. Never the right time, never the right place, maybe he forgets, maybe Virgil doesn’t ask. His only saving grace is how many extra hours he was already working before the promotion—Virgil seems to have hardly noticed his increased absence. Maybe not the best outlook on the situation.

So when Logan leaves work even later than usual, some three aught months after his talk with Miss Katie-Lee, and finds himself caught in a thunderstorm, he wonders whether it would be the worst idea in the world to take it as a sign. If he were the type of person to read into those things, maybe he would.

As it stands, he waves back to Roman, who turns right and away as he leaves for the day. Logan absently thanks his lucky stars (not for the first time) that the old intern never told the news to Virgil. It probably helps that Roman got his own boost—from intern to full timer—but Logan will take what he can get.

He sighs to himself when he sees the apartment building shining between the raindrops. An easily overcome distance never looked so good. Logan picks up the pace, bolting for the stairs as soon as he reaches the complex. It’s a wonder his soaked shoes don’t slip out from under him on the concrete steps. Kicking the main door shut behind him as he enters the main room, he zeroes in on the couch and allows exhaustion to take him over. The new position, while nice in terms of the raise, is more than a little taxing.

A couple hours later, Logan wakes up to his phone pinging with a new message. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and unlocks the screen. Your Boy wants you to look at the island, it reads. Roman’s name scrolls across the top of the display. Said you’ll know what it means.

Logan sends off a thanks to Roman and yawns, glancing at the floating counter in the kitchenette. A travel mug of coffee atop a torn sheet of lined paper covered in dark blue ink awaits.

Lifting the mug to his lips, he reads over the note out of the corner of his eye. Meet at the photoshoot park. V. He hesitates, taking another pull of coffee and wondering what a photoshoot park could be. Slowly but surely, an image floats into his mind of Virgil beside a pond, showing off a cardigan that Logan hasn’t seen in ages.

He’s out the front door before the minute hand on his watch can tick over.

Miraculously, the storm has passed, which does nothing to ease Logan’s nerves as he wonders what this all could be about. Maybe Virgil found out about the promotion and got pissed that Logan didn’t tell him sooner. Maybe Roman told him, and he’s mad about having to hear it secondhand. Maybe he started picking up on how much extra wiggle room they’d had in their wallets lately. Admittedly not very much, as most of it goes toward bills that Virgil pretends not to notice, but an extra candy bar in the cupboard is nothing to scoff at.

The whole way to the park, Logan swerves around shrinking puddles that gather in holes burrowed through the sidewalk. With the abating rain and the moon trying to peek through the thinning clouds, his spirits lift enough for his mind to make a decision it has no business making. He’s going to tell Virgil about the promotion tonight, and maybe ask him a certain question that’s been hovering unspoken in the air between them, heavier than he would’ve thought possible these last several months. His hand instinctively flies to the lump in his jacket pocket, the contents of which he’s been carrying around for something to the tune of a year now.

He slips his hand around it as he approaches the park entrance, doing his best to look natural. Remarkably difficult a task, given his train of thought right now, but still. Careful to stay on the least muddy parts of the dirt path—an incredibly low bar to clear, mind you—Logan follows the trail into the heart of the park, taking vague note of how empty it is. Granted, very few self-respecting parents would bring their kids to a park so late at night like this, but the lack of other people is still unnerving.

A wave of relief washes over him when he sees Virgil’s familiar silhouette hunched in front of the pond. With one leg curled up under his chin and the other resting on the ground, Logan might believe he were asleep, were it not for the way he drums his fingers on the red and white checkerboard blanket beneath him. Actually, if the fringed texture is anything to go by, that might just be a beach towel.

Spread across the mat is an assortment of tupperwares with various maroon-tinted lids, each lightly capped and boasting basic picnic food. You’ve got your usual suspects—hot dogs, potato and macaroni salads, orange slices—and then you’ve got what looks like a valiant attempt at pasta. Maybe. It’s definitely a yellowed white, but that’s about all the investigation Logan manages before he notices the plastic tea lights set up around the corner of the blanket. Moreover, he notices the thing absorbing most of their artificial light—his glasses case, resting against Virgil’s side. Would he—? No, he wouldn’t, not with a glasses case.

Would he?

“What’s all this?” Logan asks, feeling the damp grass squelch underfoot as he steps off the path.

Virgil hardly flinches at his approach, not even turning around to address his question. “Just something special I wanted to do for you, since you’ve been so busy lately.” So he did notice. “You gonna sit down, or just keep standing there like a creep-o?”

After planting a kiss on Virgil’s head, Logan tucks his legs beneath him as he takes a position on the other side of the blanket. The glasses case rests between them. He runs his hand over the blanket and nods to himself. Definitely a beach towel. “You really did all this just to give me a nice night? All of it?”

“All of it.” Virgil indicates the various tupperware with a general wave, not looking away from the pond. “I couldn’t find, like, a picnic basket or anything, and this towel ran me a solid nine bucks at Target, but I think I did a pretty darn decent job of making that fettuccine alfredo like you taught me. All by myself, too. Can’t believe you slept through all that prep noise.”

“I’m so proud,” Logan says, scooting closer to wrap an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “What are the chances you thought to bring along utensils for this little outing of yours?”

“Pretty high, I would say.” Virgil produces yet another tupperware filled with plastic forks and knives and, knowing him, at least one spork. Priorities, people.

Logan follows Virgil’s gaze to the pond as he fumbles around for the nearest tupperware, content to watch the ripples skate across the surface in silence. Granted, they started those cooking lessons a while ago, but Virgil still managed to pull off some objectively impressive work tonight.

As the moon makes its slow trek across the sky, chasing away the last brave clouds into mist, Logan’s mind argues with his mouth over whether now is a good time to tell Virgil about the promotion. The best time probably would’ve been a couple months ago, but still. Just as he resolves to bring it up, Virgil decides his own voice should take priority. Perfectly fine by Logan.

“See that huge moon up there?”

“Yeah?”

“I still want you to bring it to me.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that. I’m just working out a contract with my people selling me the stars. The moon isn’t cheap, you know.” Virgil nods, quirking his mouth to the side and glancing at the heavens above. No time like the present. “Hey, um, I actually did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Kind of regarding the stars, actually.”

“Well, heck. I had something I wanted to talk about, too. Not regarding the stars, though.” Virgil glances from Logan to the glasses case and back, and if Logan didn’t know better, he might think that was a blush creeping across Virgil’s face.

Maybe he doesn’t know better.

A moment’s pause, and they both say in sync, “You can go first. No, you. Really, it’s—you can—okay, I’ll—” Virgil stops first, pretending to zip his lips. The glasses case stares at Logan. He stares back. The stars, the park, the picnic, the secrecy? What else could it be?

He waits for Virgil to talk again, but his boyfriend merely fixes him with a pointed stare. Logan swallows around the lump in his throat. “So, um, you remember that meeting I had? Like, a few months ago?”

“Oh, right, that huge interview deal or whatever. You never told me how that went down.”

“So as it turns out, um, I got the promotion, and it put me even higher than they told me it might.”

“What! Babe, that’s fantastic news! When did you find out? When do you start?”

Logan sucks a sharp breath through his teeth and winces. “Um. The day of the meeting? Same day offer, next day start.”

Virgil goes stiff under Logan’s arm, but he doesn’t pull away. Not yet, at least. “That, um, that’s great. Really, really good. Why did you not tell me sooner?” Logan can’t bring himself to look at Virgil’s face. He doesn’t want to know if this comes off as bad as it feels. It probably does. It’s probably worse.

“I didn’t, um, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It meant more hours, a heavier workload, more things I have to oversee, not to mention that I’m being considered for training to become an actual, legitimate, genuine part of the aeronautic branch of the company.”

Virgil remains silent long after Logan forces the truth out all in one breath, not looking away from a growing ripple on the pond. It bumps up against a rock, rebounding across the surface before dithering to hide in the reedy grass. “I’m happy for you, really, I just—it’s just really sucky that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“I know, I know, and that was a super bad move on my part. I just didn’t want you to worry, since astronaut work is obviously way more dangerous than basic intern stuff, not that I have to, y’know, tell you that.” Logan laughs uncomfortably. Virgil does not laugh back.

“Yeah, well, no shit, Sherlock.” Virgil finally moves out from under Logan’s arm and whips his head around to stare at him. Logan can’t tell whether he’s mad or hurt or both. Maybe both. Probably both. “You not wanting to hurt my feelings doesn’t make it suck any less that you didn’t tell me about something so big. Do you have even the smallest sense of how crappy this feels for me?”

“I just—no, I don’t. I don’t because you’ve never put me through anything like this, and it’s cruel and unacceptable on my end, and I wish I’d told you sooner, because you being mad at me is just about the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s not even slightly on you, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough, but I am, and I just wanted you to know that. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I sprung it on you like this. Truly, I am. I care about you so, so much, more than any promotion or any picnic could say.”

Virgil hesitates, working a few muscles in his jaw. “Maybe not just any picnic.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Virgil scoots closer to Logan and shifts his gaze to the stars, looping Logan’s arm back over his shoulders. For fear of seeing tears there, Logan doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just—it’s just a lot. I mean, I’m happy for you. Had to happen eventually, right, so you could work on getting off-planet? That’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah, I—it is. It really is.”

“Plus, it might be a little easier for you to get me my present if you can actually, physically go to space.”

“Your present?”

“The moon.”

“Right, right, the moon. How do I keep forgetting that?” An awkward silence falls, during which Logan finds his eyes drawn to the glasses case. There’s no way he’s misreading this, the situation is just way too obvious. Why else would Virgil go to all these lengths to set this up?

When Virgil moves to grab the glasses case, Logan nearly chokes on an inhale.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs.

“What?” Virgil hesitates, his hand freezing a few inches above the case. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just—just finish whatever you were about to do.” Logan is trying very hard to maintain a passive expression. He is failing miserably.

“Okay, weirdo.” Virgil shifts his body to hide the contents of the case as he pulls it into his lap and stares at whatever rests inside. Silence. And more silence. And more.

“So,” Logan says suddenly. His voice very much cracks. “Um, so earlier, you said you had something to talk about? Not regarding the stars, I mean.” His heart leaps out of his chest as that familiar pinkness spreads across Virgil’s cheeks.

“Right. Yes. Um.” Virgil hems and haws a good while longer, glancing between Logan and the glasses case. “Well, I mean, I guess this is kind of hard to say—not that there’s any easy way to put it, I guess, unless I wrote it on a piece of paper or something like if I had a script, but—”

“Just spit it out, love.”

Virgil swivels the case around to face Logan, who swears he can see a sparkle reflected inside from the tea lights. His heart is now firmly lodged in his throat. “I was reorganizing some stuff earlier, and I think I may have accidentally broken your backup glasses. Sorry about that.”

Logan can only stare in flabbergasted silence as Virgil places the case on his knee, and sure enough, his old prescription rests inside, snapped along the bridge. His heart finds a new forever home somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. “Are you kidding me?”

“I know, I messed up too, but I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

“ That’s what all this fuss was about?”

“I’m not sure I understand your confusion.” Virgil looks at Logan, then down at the case, and immediately straightens his back as his mouth drops into a surprised ‘O.’ “Oh. Oh. You thought—oh my god, you thought that I was gonna—”

“Yeah, yes, I did think that you were gonna. I really did.”

“Well, if I were to do, you know, that, I certainly wouldn’t be so tacky or nervous about it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Logan’s hand falls to the familiar rounded cube in his pocket. “Great, so tell me how you would do it instead, then.”

“Well, y’know, I think I might do it a little something like this.” Virgil leans away from Logan, reaching for something in his back pocket. Logan’s heart is steadily making its way up his spine. He starts shaking his head, slowly at first, then faster, faster faster faster. Virgil produces a little velvet box. Oceans of goosebumps race from Logan’s shoulders to his trembling fingers. When he thought he knew what to expect, he sort of believed it, but seeing it actually happening? Forget it. Out of the question.

“Logan Marcus Walders,” Virgil says, shifting to one knee.

“Oh my god.”

“These last few years have easily been the best of my entire life.”

“Oh my god.”

“No other geeky little shortstop has ever caught my eye so quickly as you did.” His voice cracks on the word ever. Logan’s heart is hovering somewhere near the upper limits of the atmosphere right now.

“Oh my god.”

“Would you stop saying that and just let me get through this before I lose my nerve?” Virgil flips open the box and holds it closer to Logan, who is shaking his head faster than ever. He isn’t even certain he’s still breathing, and his heart has left the scene entirely. “You mean the absolute world to me and beyond, Logan, and there is absolutely no one on or above this planet that I’d rather explore it with. You promised me the moon at my price of the stars, but I would sacrifice all of that and more in an instant if you would do me the honor of marrying me.”

Logan shakes his head harder still, unable to form words as tears bead up at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t—”

“Fine, I’ll say it again, but this is the last time, okay?” Virgil licks his lips and gives a hollow laugh. The box trembles in his hands. “Logan Marcus Walders, notable soon-to-be space explorer, ambassador to the stars, will you marry me?”

“I don’t—I don’t know what to—”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Virgil whispers, his voice wobbling more than his hands holding a box holding a ring holding the promise of their future together.

“Yes,” Logan finally manages to choke out. “Yes, yes, a million times over, a million worlds away, yes.”

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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aranciafiamma · 5 years

Text

The Demon Wears Neon

My Holiday Gift for @teatimeunicorpia for @mp100ficrec gift exchange!

Prompt: High Fashion AU starring designer Teru

Ship: None, Kageyama Mob & Hanazawa Teruki

Summary: Mob has been set a challenge by his parents. He needs to learn how to live on his own. Which means find a place, find a job, and then keep the job. That sounds easy enough. (No Powers AU) -Inspired by the Devil Wears Prada and Princess Jellyfish

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - MORNING

Stylish. Chic. Desperately trying to be bougie. Looks like the backstage of a runway, with employees that just stepped away from a photoshoot.

SHIGEO KAGEYAMA, 22, stradles the line between homely and homeless. He appears so unremarkable that he goes by a second name, MOB.

Mob loiters in front of the entrance. He looks up at the big, lit up sign and then at the job opening flyer posted on the door. He peers inside for the nth time.

The contrast between the sharply-heeled, precise-cut outfitted clerks and himself is apparent. Comparable to the way a multi-million, downtown condo contrasts an abandoned cottage in the woods. He sighs.

MOB There's no way...

He shifts his gaze down.

A shot of his scuffed-up sneakers on the concrete sidewalk.

INT. KAGEYAMA HOUSE - EVENING

Two weeks ago.

A shot of the same scuffed-up sneakers but on the laminated floor of a genkan. Shot pans up.

MRS. KAGEYAMA, middle-aged with a no nonsense look that can only be cultivated by raising two boys. She stands in front of Mob, hands on her hips.

Mob just got home, looking like he went out for a run. He's in a pair of sweatpants with a white T-shirt damp from sweat.

MOB Oh. I'm ho-

MRS. KAGEYAMA Are you doing anything tomorrow?

MOB No? I don't-

MRS. KAGEYAMA What about the next week? Or the next month? Or the next year? Do you have any plans at all?

MOB Um...

Mrs. Kageyama drags a hand down her face.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Shige. You're a grown man now. It's time you learned how to live on your own. Just look at Ritsu! Gone off to college!

MOB But you agreed college wasn't for me.

MRS. KAGEYAMA I did. That doesn't mean I wanted you to just hang around the house. You're not even working! You know, your father and I won't be here forever. We can't keep waiting for you to get moving.

MOB What does that mean?

MRS. KAGEYAMA We agreed to provide you with one month's rent. Just to get you started. Find yourself a place. Find yourself a job. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. You could work at a 7/11. I just -

Mrs. Kageyama sighs. Every year of her age seems to catch up in a single second. She looks tired and worn out, like a beloved blanket washed too many times.

MRS. KAGEYAMA We just need to know that you're going to be okay...

Mob looks down at his feet. Silence for an extended pause.

MOB That's one month?

MRS. KAGEYAMA Yes. Plenty of time, don't you think?

A front shot of Mob's face, focus on his eyes - a flat, dead-fish looking stare.

MOB Yeah... Yeah, okay.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - MORNING

Same shot of Mob's eyes.

MOB This is a bad idea.

TERU Blocking the door tends to be.

A full shot. Mob jumps and whips around to see TERUKI HANAZAWA, 23, the human personification of LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It". His personal style is disco night meets black light parties - a lot of sequins, a lot of neon.

He peers over his bedazzled, heart-shaped sunglasses, giving Mob a once over. He is not impressed with what he sees.

TERU Well?

Mob blinks at him.

TERU (clicks tongue) Get out of the way.

Mob scrambles off to the side. Teru flounces in, his many shopping bags hit Mob on the way. Stunned, Mob dazedly follows him inside.

There's an uproar as all the store clerks swarm Teru. They take his bags, asking rapid fire questions, presenting him with products. Mob watches, swept off to the side.

ARATAKA REIGEN, 36, like a car salesman but fashionable. He strides through the crowd, holding up two belts.

REIGEN There you are, Teruki. I'm planning to change the window display. Help me pick a belt.

Both belts are teal, wide, and flat but with different buckles and base materials. To the casual onlooker, the belts appear identical.

MOB Aren't those the same belts?

A pause. All the store clerks and Reigen look at him. Mob becomes a living statue - maybe not even living - a soon to expire statue.

Slowly, dramatically, Teru turns to face Mob.

TERU Oh. The boy masquerading as a door mat.

Mob draws up his shoulders, a turtle ducking into his shell.

MOB I... There was...

He points at the job opportunity flyer. Teru frowns.

TERU I knew that flyer was a bd idea. It invites all kinds of riff raff.

MOB Puh- Please. Two weeks. Rent due. I need - That is, I can... Please.

Reigen sighs and lightly nudges Teru.

REIGEN Listen kid. We need more help. I'm sure with the right training-

Teru glances at Reigen, glances back at Mob, then gives Reigen a look that could dry up the seas in second.

TERU We aren't running a charity here. Our job candidates should at least start from rock bottom, not the inner depths of the Earth's crust.

MOB I can work very hard! An - And I can follow orders! I'll do my best to learn!

REIGEN Oh give him a chance. He can work in the back, doing inventory. No one has to see him. We really need the extra help.

TERU I heard you the first time.

REIGEN Did you.

Reigen and Teru lock eyes. A tense moment.

TERU Alright! Fine. We can take him on. Temporarily. If he messes up my shop, it's on your head.

MOB ... Wait. This is your shop?

Teru and Reigen stare blankly at him. A beat. Teru turns to Reigen with a grin that could put a laughing Buddha to shame.

TERU Good luck, Arataka. You are going to need it.

Teru walks away with a dramatic spin on his heel. His staff follow after him like particularly noisy chickadees - chirping out new questions and suggestions.

Reigen and Mob both watch them go. A pause. Reigen looks over to find Mob preoccupied with a nearby sweater. His fingers run over the smooth cashmere in a repetitive rhythm.

REIGEN (clears throat) Alright, kid. I just stuck my neck out for you. Don't let me down.

Mob blinks. His eyes got that thousand yard stare. Reigen's brow twitches.

REIGEN Geez. You really make a guy feel confident about his choices. What's your name?

MOB Shigeo Kageyama. My friends call me Mob.

REIGEN Like a mob boss?

MOB Like a mob character.

REIGEN .... Right. I'm Arataka Reigen.

Mob nods. A long, stretched out pause. They stare at each other.

MOB Oh. Thank you. And please excuse me but, why did you do that?

REIGEN What? Help you out? Listen, a new stock of our famous Jellyfish couture just came in. It's a massive order. I could either go crazy doing it by myself OR we could hire you to give me a hand. Now come on.

Reigen walks away, beckons Mob to follow. Mob stays put.

MOB We're starting now?

Reigen doesn't even pause or glance back.

REIGEN Why? You got other stuff to do?

Mob stumbles after him, trying to catch up.

INT. CRYPTID APARTMENT - EVENING

Messy, cluttered, obviously occupied by more than one twenty something. Anime merch scattered on every surface. Sci-fi posters plastered on the walls. A roach sets out from the Take Out Box street and visits its cousin in Candy Wrapper lane.

TOME KURATA, 24, self-identifies as a cryptid but actually she's just a NEET. She's camped out on the living room floor, playing a console game.

Mob enters. He looks like the patient of a medieval doctor - as in someone stuck a bunch of leeches on him and now he's nothing more than a husk of a human being.

TOME Ossu! How'd the job hunting go?

MOB ... I got one.

Tome pauses her game and faces him.

TOME Nice! Did you - Woah! What happened to you?

Mob doesn't answer. He shuffles over to the couch and faceplants on it. He is dead now.

Fade to black.

TOME Mob? Oi, Mob! Mobbu-kun!

INT. CRYPTID APARTMENT - AFTERNOON

Two weeks ago.

Blackout.

TOME Mob?

Fade in. An unimpressed Tome stands with her arms crossed. She looks Mob up and down.

TOME What kind of name is that?

Full shot. MAMETA INUKAWA, 22, vaguely resembles a Shiba Inu. He's standing next to Mob, a hand clapped on his shoulder. They're both facing Tome.

INUKAWA Oh it's just something we liked to call him.

MOB My name is Shigeo Kageyama. It's pleasure to meet you.

TOME Huh. I'm Tome Kurata.

MOB Oh. That's my grandmother's name.

TOME Neat. So. Our last roommate fucked off without paying in advance. We're really in a bind here. I'm not even asking for the full payment just half.

MOB Yes. I can pay. But I need a room.

TOME Pfft! If you keep paying, you keep staying. Just don't murder us all in our sleep. And for the love of all things holy, wash your fucking dishes after you eat. That's all.

MOB I can manage that.

TOME Excellent. Welcome to the Cryptid Den, Mob-kun.

MOB Uh... Cryptid?

INUKAWA Because we're all hopeless shut-ins who barely scrape by on night-shift part-time work. So, seeing us is like sighting a cryptid - you know, Big Foot, Nessie...

TOME BZT! Wrong! We're cryptids because we all have a mysterious allure!

INUKAWA Oh. I thought that was just the smell from your unwashed bras.

Tome shrieks wordlessly and flails at him.

A torso shot of Mob, standing in front of the door.

INT. CRYPTID APARTMENT - EVENING

The same shot of Mob, sitting at the dining table. The rest of his roommates have trudged out of their self-imposed isolation. They're eating take-out sushi.

SARUTA SHIRIHIKO, 22, big, broad, and butt-chinned. He casually steals sushi from Inukawa's plate. HARUTO KIJIBAYASHI, 24, always looks stressed out but it's just his resting face. He laughs as Inukawa thumps Shirihiko.

Mob focuses on carefully dipping a roll into soy sauce.

Tome walks in, carrying a pack of beer. She thumps it on the table before taking a seat.

TOME Right, boys. I don't have to remind you. But I'm still gonna so don't you give me any excuses later. Rent is due in two weeks. That is 14 days. Got it? Mob, you listening?

Mob lifts his head. His roll slips from his chopsticks and splashes soy sauce on him. He flinches and reaches for a napkin. He pats himself down.

A pause. Everyone is waiting for him to respond. Distantly, the front door can be heard opening.

RITSU KAGEYAMA, 21, a Hot Mess pretending to be the Cool Guy. He walks in.

Tome clears her throat. Mob returns his attention to her.

MOB Ah. Yes. I heard. I can pay on time. I have a job now.

RITSU Really, Nii-san? Congratulations!

Ritsu grabs a beer and takes a seat next to Mob. Tome eyes him.

TOME Oi, Kageyama. If you keep coming around here, and I'll start charging you for rent.

RITSU Please, Kurata-san. I am a poor college student. I don't have a penny to my name.

INUKAWA What's the job? Where at?

MOB So far it's been managing inventory. At some place called Teru.

KIJIBAYASHI Whoa. Wait. Teru?

RITSU Do you like it?

MOB Mmmm... I have a lot to learn. It's very tiring.

TOME Yeah. You looked half-dead when you got in today.

Ritsu frowns, gripping his beer can hard enough to dent.

RITSU Well. Don't work too hard.

MOB I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me.

RITSU Just promise me if you get too stressed out-

KIJIBAYASHI I can't believe you're working at Teru!

INUKAWA Why is that such a big deal?

KIJIBAYASHI It's like super popular! The store owner is supposedly some kinda fashion prodigy.

SHIRIHIKO And how do you know this?

KIJIBAYASHI My girlfriend. She's all about this kinda stuff.

TOME Hold up! When the hell did you get a girlfriend?

The rest give Kijibayashi hell. Ritsu turns his attention to Mob.

RITSU If it gets too much, you can always quit.

MOB I know. But I really do need money.

RITSU I can talk to Mom. I can convince her to let you come home. You don't need to put yourself through this.

MOB Mom's busy taking care of Dad. He's still on medical leave, you know?

RITSU Still?

MOB ... I want to do my best.

Ritsu scowls and takes an angry sip of his beer.

Tome has moved to throwing pizza crusts at Kijibayashi and Shirihiko. Inukawa is in tears from laughing.

RITSU If you need anything-

MOB Ritsu. It's fine. (beat) And you need to stop checking up on me. I know you're busy with college.

RITSU (sighs) Okay, Nii-san. Okay.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - MORNING

Mob enters. The boutique is in a frenzy. Store clerks run about blindly. Teru is at the center of all the mayhem. He's fixing up a mannequin, paying little attention to the panic.

TSUYOSHI EDANO, 24, stuck in his "high school punk" phase but now in a suit. He stands next to Teru, taking notes.

TERU Details of your incompetence do not interest me. Tell Simone I'm not going to approve that girl she sent me. I asked for clean, athletic, smiling. She sent me dirty, tired, and paunchy.

Reigen appears next to Mob. He grabs his arm. Mob jumps.

REIGEN You're late!

MOB I... But... You told me to come at 8am. It's 8am.

REIGEN Clearly I meant to come 15 minutes earlier. That's how it works around here.

Reigen pulls Mob through the store. Mob watches the store clerks rush around.

MOB Is it always like this?

REIGEN Just the Teru effect. But he's in fine form today. The shop isn't even open yet and he's already sent someone crying.

Mob blinks, slightly frowning.

REIGEN I wouldn't worry about it. Your job is out of his way. Unlike mines.

MOB If you don't mind me asking, what is your job?

REIGEN Mostly I handle the daily operations of the shop. But I'm also the event planner. Teruki puts on fashion shows, you see. It's what all those fancy brands - Gucci, Prada, Versace - they all do it. And that kid, well he believes himself on par with them. So of course whatever they do, he will too. Never mind that they've got more resources and reach. So he's just stressing himself out for not much pay off. And of course, us underlings get the brunt of his freak outs - I'm ranting, aren't I? Don't mind me, kid.

MOB I wasn't. I didn't get... any of that.

They enter the backroom. It looks like the kind of place where simple joys die slow, drawn out deaths. No windows. Buzzing, overhead lights. A small mountain of unopened boxes next to a second door. Rows and rows of shelves and racks, most empty. Not a lot of breathing room.

Reigen glances over at Mob.

REIGEN Mob, right? Just do as I say and we should get along fine.

Mob stares at Reigen.

REIGEN Think you can do that?

MOB Oh. Yes.

REIGEN Good. Now, where did I leave off yesterday...

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - MONTAGE

Mob hard at work. He's carrying a huge box. He can't see where he's going. He bumps into a store clerk who stumbles back, knocking over a set of mannequins. There's a deafening crash. Reigen comes running over.

REIGEN Mob!

Reigen carefully jotting down the inventory. He double checks to make sure they received everything. Behind him, Mob unpacks a few boxes. He pauses for a moment, wiping his brow. He notices an electric fan in the corner - it's huge, industrial sized. He switches it open. The sudden breeze sends all of Reigen's files flying.

REIGEN Mob!!

Mob walks in, carrying a tray of tea. He trips over his feet and sends the drinks flying, headed right for the unwrapped stock of very expensive cashmere skirts. Reigen yells and makes a mad dash. In slow motion - like watching a hardened soldier take a bullet for a fallen comrade - Reigen steps in and shields the skirts from the tea splash.

MOB ... Oops.

Reigen now dripping wet.

REIGEN MOB!!!

EXT. BACK ALLEY - AFTERNOON

A cramped area behind the boutique. Largely bare. Only a recycling bin full of flattened boxes, a mostly empty trash bin, and Mob.

He squats next to the door. He picks at a store-bought bento.

MOB (sighs) Man. I suck at this.

Door swings violently open. It knocks into Mob, upturning his bento and spilling the food all over him.

Teru enters.

MOB ... Ow.

Teru glances over and sees him.

TERU You know, if I had wanted a doormat, I could have bought a perfectly serviceable one at a department store. It would have been better looking too.

Mob focuses on brushing the food off him.

TERU Hello? I'm talking to you.

Mob slowly lifts his head and turns to Teru.

TERU Are you deaf?

MOB No.

TERU Then why didn't you say anything?

MOB Was I supposed to?

TERU Sorry would be a good start.

MOB But... You're the one that hit me... With the door...

Teru turns away from him. He pulls out his phone and a cigarette. He starts a call, puffing out smoke.

Mob gets up, throws away his bento, and enters the boutique.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - AFTERNOON

Mob walks into the backroom. Reigen is using a box for a desk, scribbling fast. He sees Mob and turns to him.

REIGEN Whoa. Did you eat lunch or did lunch eat you?

MOB I-

REIGEN Yeah, yeah. Listen. Kid. This isn't gonna work.

MOB What won't?

REIGEN You are just constantly in the way. I can't believe you've stayed on. You're clearly not cut out for this. You should quit.

A pause. Mob shakes his head slowly. He scratches at his arm.

MOB ... No.

Another pause, drawn out. Reigen studies him.

REIGEN This is a fashion boutique. Employees should have an interest in fashion. Which you don't.

MOB I can learn.

REIGEN Who's going to teach you? Because I just don't have the time.

Mob scratches his arm faster.

MOB Give me - Give me one more chance. I need to work. I can't - Mom and Dad - tired of disappointing.

A pause.

Teru enters with his usual dramatic flair.

TERU Reigen, I need coffee.

REIGEN I'm busy, brat.

TERU Then get your little errand boy to do it. Isn't that why we hired him?

Mob stops scratching his arm. He balls his hands into fists.

MOB I can do it!

TERU You don't have a choice. I want a triple grande caramel macchiato in a venti cup, 1/2 whole milk, 1/2 almond milk, a splash of soy, double the amount of vanilla syrup, caramel wall in the cup, extra whip. Understood?

Mob did not understand.

MOB Y-Yes.

TERU Then what are you standing around for? Go!

INT. STARBUCKS - AFTERNOON

No place special. Just somewhere to get the usual caffeine fix.

Mob stands at the counter. A hand furiously scratches at his arm. He stares at the menu. Seen from his point of view, the menu starts to blur into an unreadable mess.

ICHI MEZATO, 22, the love child of Sherlock Holmes and Lois Lane. She mans the register, eyeing Mob. A line is forming behind him.

MEZATO Hey! I know you! Don't you work at Teru?

Mob jumps. He stops scratching.

MOB Ho-How did you know?

MEZATO I stopped by this morning and saw you knock a store clerk into those mannequins. Man, that was funny. Lemme guess. You're here for the bossman.

Mob nods.

MEZATO I gotchu. He always gets the same thing. I've memorized the order by now.

MOB That's... convenient.

MEZATO Hey, don't question your luck. It seems like a stressful place to work at. You're gonna need all the help.

MOB Thank you...

Mob squints at her name tag.

MOB Mezato-san?

MEZATO That will be 400 yen.

Mob freezes.

MEZATO ... He didn't give you money, did he?

Mob mournfully pulls out his wallet, sighing.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - EVENING

Mob enters. Teru dashes over. Reigen stays standing at the register. He watches them.

TERU Finally! What took you so long? I thought you died or something!

MOB Please excuse me.

Mob hands the coffee to Teru. He eyes the cup suspiciously before taking a sip.

TERU Hmph. I suppose that will do.

Teru turns around and flounces away. Reigen walks up to Mob.

REIGEN That brat always orders the most elaborate stuff. I'm surprised you managed it. So you can follow instructions, huh?

MOB Yes.

REIGEN Alright. I can give you one more shot at this. But if you mess up, that's it.

INT. CRYPTID APARTMENT - EVENING

Mob and Ritsu sit on the couch. Tome and Inukawa play some sort of dancing game. They are both obviously out of shape.

RITSU How's work?

MOB It's going okay.

RITSU Not too stressful?

A pause. Mob keeps his eyes on the game. Ritsu watches him.

MOB I'm handling it.

Ritsu says nothing.

A beat. Mob yawns. He stretches and the sleeves slip down. His arms have raw-red scratch marks. Ritsu grabs Mob.

RITSU What is this?

MOB Don't worry about it.

RITSU Nii-san! This job is obviously awful. Please quit. I can loan you some money. You don't need -

MOB I need to be treated like a grown up. I'm the older brother. I should be taking care of you not...

RITSU I don't need to be taken care of.

MOB Then at least let me take care of myself. I'm not quitting.

RITSU But-

MOB Drop it, Ritsu.

Tome and Inukawa finally collapse from overexertion.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - MORNING

A week later.

Mob and Reigen are in one of the dressing rooms. Reigen is carefully outfitting Mob with some of the store's best-sellers.

MOB Um... Reigen-san.

Reigen buttons up a smart-looking vest. It's very tight. Mob scratches at the seams. His posture has gotten very tense.

REIGEN What, Mob?

MOB Do you really think I'm ready to work at the front?

REIGEN Nope. But if you stay working in the back with me, I might just go completely insane.

Mob deflates.

REIGEN I'm just kidding. You've really gotten better.

Reigen winds a tie around his neck. Mob squirms, trying to loosen it. Reigen knocks his hand away.

REIGEN Stop that.

MOB Is all this stuff really necessary?

REIGEN Unfortunately. Teruki doesn't let anyone on the floor unless they're looking runway ready. It's part of the hashtag-aesthetic.

MOB I don't know what that means.

REIGEN Same, kid.

Reigen claps Mob on the shoulders. He spins him around to face the mirror.

A full shot of his reflection. It's still Mob, with his bland-looking face and his severe-looking haircut. But his clothes are well-fitted and the dark colors complement his skin tone. He looks... well, pretty nice actually. Mob puffs up, smiling a bit

REIGEN There, now. All you gotta do is keep the racks stocked and the shelves organized. We're not throwing you behind the register or anything. So don't worry. But you should be familiar with what we carry. Right?

MOB Um...

REIGEN Say yes.

MOB Yes.

REIGEN Good. Now get out there.

Reigen shoves Mob out of the dressing room. There's a cart full of stock waiting for him. He blinks and stares at it.

REIGEN Take that to the front. You can figure out where to put it all.

Mob jumps and jerks into action. His movements are stiff, almost robotic. He wheels the cart into the crowded sales floor. Store clerks are buzzing about, flitting from customer to customer.

Mob watches them all and idly tugs at his tie, scratching his neck. He nearly crashes into a customer.

CUSTOMER Hey! Watch it!

MOB Sorry - Excuse me!

Mob hastily drags the cart over to a corner, breathing fast and hard. Both hands reach up to his neck, digging his nails in and scratching hard - leaving the skin an angry red.

A pause. Mob inhales deeply and faces the sales floor again. He looks at the cart then at the racks and starts heading out.

The chatter of the customers and clerks steadily grow louder. Mob scratches at the seams of his vest. He rocks on his heels as he hangs up some of the stock.

A store clerk passes by, casually re-applying perfume. Mob doubles over, clapping a hand over his nose and mouth.

A pulse can be heard - it's Mob. At first, just a steady beat hidden under all the noise. But slowly deafens everything else. Close up on the customers lips - smiling and talking away. Close up on the display lights, blindingly bright and everywhere. Close up on the vest's material, the starchy woven fabric embroidered with gold thread.

A full shot of Mob. He appears completely frozen. The cart is off to the side, abandoned.

A customer approaches.

CUSTOMER Hey, excuse me. But I'm looking for a cashmere skirt. It's part of your fall line, I think. Could you help me?

A hand reaches out and gently nudges Mob's shoulder. Mob flinches away - as if electrocuted. He slaps away the hand and snarls at the customer. He looks ready to go apeshit.

A beat.

CUSTOMER Um. What the he-

Mob dashes away. He tugs off the tie, flinging it away. It hits Reigen, dealing with a customer nearby. He turns.

REIGEN Ow! Hey, who threw tha - Mob?

Mob exits the sales floor.

INT. EMERGENCY ROOM - NIGHT

Five weeks ago.

Whitewashed walls, sterile-tiled floors. Buzzing flourescent lights. A crossbreed between a lab and a holding cell.

Mob is curled up on a chair. He scratches his ears. Mrs. Kageyama paces, wringing her hands. Ritsu enters, dashing in.

RITSU How is he?

Mrs. Kageyama stops pacing.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Oh, Ritsu! You didn't need to come all this way!

RITSU Didn't?! Dad just had a stroke! How can you -

A pause. Ritsu breathes in deeply. He looks over at Mob. He approaches cautiously.

RITSU Hey, Nii-san. You okay?

Mob doesn't answer. He doesn't even glance at Ritsu.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Oh don't bother him. When your father collapsed, I thought to faint myself. Must've seemed worse for Shige.

RITSU And is Dad...?

A pause. Mrs. Kageyama slowly shakes her head. A sob bursts out. Ritsu rushes over and drapes an arm around her.

Close up on Mob. Mrs. Kageyama can be heard crying in the background. He squeezes his eyes shut, gripping his knees hard.

INT. KAGEYAMA HOUSE - EVENING

Three weeks ago.

Mob stands at the entry way. He's dressed in a pair of sweats and a white T-shirt.

MR. KAGEYAMA, middle aged, stooped over from years of hard work and a very recent hospitalization. He is escorted in by Ritsu. They pass by Mob.

MR. KAGEYAMA I can walk just fine. You're making me feel old, son.

RITSU You are old, Dad.

MR. KAGEYAMA Yes. But you shouldn't say it.

Mob watches them disappear into the kitchen. Mrs. Kageyama enters, stuffing her wallet into her purse.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Shige, if you've got time to be gawking, then you should be setting out the plates for dinner. You did order the take-out like I asked, did-

Mob pushes past her, kicking off his slippers and shoving on his sneakers.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Shige? What - You're going out? Now?

Mob remains silent. His expression is the most serious seen. He dashes out the door.

MRS. KAGEYAMA Shige!

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

Empty. Rows of unlit houses cage in the lane. The sky is a heartbreaking purple.

Mob runs. He runs and he runs and he runs. His face is a rictus of pain as he draws sharp, short breaths. He stumbles a little but quickly regains his footing. He keeps running.

A shot of a streetlight, flickering on.

EXT. BACK ALLEY - EVENING

Close up on a streetlight.

Pan out. Mob leans against the wall.

He's pulling off the vest, rocking on his heels. His breathing is fast and short. He frantically scratches everywhere.

Reigen enters. He's got the tie hooked around a finger. He watches Mob.

REIGEN I'm guessing you didn't like the fit?

Mob doesn't answer. He's crumpled up the vest in his hands, squeezing tightly. Reigen winces.

A long drawn out pause.

REIGEN So. How long are you gonna stay out here?

Mob stops scratching.

REIGEN Just ran out the door. Honestly. You scared a customer.

Mob slowly turns to Reigen.

REIGEN You're really bad at this. Dunno why you stick around. It's not a good fit for you.

Mob blinks.

REIGEN ... Just finish out the rest of this week. Then, you can get paid and go.

Mob shakes his head. He turns to face the wall, inhales deeply. A beat.

MOB I want to work. I can. I have to. I'm - I want to stop running.

REIGEN Okay... Why...?

MOB Be-Because I need to prove I can.

REIGEN To who?

MOB To myself. That I can grow. And I'm going to be fine. And if I - if I just work hard enough...

A pause. Reigen hisses out a breath.

REIGEN Right. Well you don't need to kill yourself in the process. Look, you've scratched your neck into bleeding.

MOB Happens. Been trying not to scratch so much.

REIGEN Okay. So how about this. Let's go back to managing the inventory for a bit. And then... Well, if you still really want to, we can ease you into the front.

MOB But wasn't this the easy job?

REIGEN Then I guess we'll have to make it easier.

A pause. Reigen studies Mob.

REIGEN Are you absolutely sure? You don't have to. You can get a job that isn't retail.

Mob doesn't answer. Again he faces the wall and holds his hands, trying not to scratch.

MOB My parents. They never... When they first found out I had autism, they never treated it like a big deal. They just went - "Ah, okay." They never stopped me from doing what I wanted to do. (beat) They honestly believe in me. That I can take care of myself. I want to - I want to believe it too.

Then Mob glances at Reigen and smiles.

MOB And. You know. Not a lot of options for part-timers with no work experience. I can do this.

Reigen barks out a laugh, shaking his head. He spins the tie around his finger.

REIGEN Then let's get started.

INT. DOWNTOWN BOUTIQUE - EVENING

Two days later.

The boutique is closed. The store clerks have fled. Reigen and Teru argue loudly. They stand by the registers. A cup of coffee on the counter.

Mob enters, carrying several shopping bags.

TERU I don't understand why it's so difficult to confirm an appointment!

REIGEN But I did confirm last night!

Teru notices Mob at the door.

TERU Who are you? The store is closed! Can't you see the sign?

MOB Oh but -

REIGEN He works with me, remember? Helps out in the stock room? I just sent him to pick up some scarves for your little fashion show.

TERU And it took him this long to come back? What happened? Did he get into an accident?

MOB I got lost.

TERU You got lost. He got lost. Okay you know what. Get out. I already sent everyone home but you - you won't be returning.

MOB ... What does that -

REIGEN Hey, don't pick on him! He's trying his best!

TERU His best clearly isn't good enough. I expect nothing short excellence.

Teru gifts Reigen with a sneer that threatened to melt the flesh from his face.

TERU And there's seems to be a shortage of that around here!

A pause. Reigen shakes his head.

REIGEN That's it. I'm done. Come find me when you're finished throwing your tantrum.

TERU Find you? I'm firing you!

REIGEN Is that right?

TERU I'm the boss around here! Seems like you forgot!

REIGEN Just never figured you to be an idiot. Stupid sometimes sure. But not an idiot. Have fun trying to figure everything without me!

TERU Fine!

REIGEN Fine!

Reigen storms out, exiting through the backroom.

A pause. Teru sees Mob watching.

TERU And what are you looking at? Huh? Yet another mistake of his. Didn't I tell you to leave? You're fired too.

MOB That was mean. He was only trying to help.

TERU Didn't you hear me? You're fired.

MOB I heard you. And... And I don't care. All Reigen-san has ever done is help you. He works overtime trying to put together your fashion show. But you just keep yelling at him. That's not right.

TERU Who are you to lecture me? Get out!

MOB You go around yelling at people and for what? Why do that? It doesn't actually help anything except maybe make you feel better. That's not - You can't just lash out.

TERU Watch me.

Teru picks up the coffee and flings it at Mob. He ducks. The coffee splashes across the front doors.

MOB Hey! That's dangerous! You'll ruin the clothes!

TERU Those are my clothes! And I'll ruin all of it if I please!

Teru pulls out a pair of scissors from the counter. He picks up a skirt and proceeds to cut it into pieces.

TERU You think you're better than me. Is that it? Is that why you keep lecturing me? As if I'm some poor, retarded child.

Mob balls his hands into fists.

MOB That's enough.

Teru picks up shirt and slices it into ribbons.

TERU When really, between the two of us, whose the real retard here? Hmm?

MOB Shut up.

TERU You think I didn't know? Please. I know everything that goes on inside my little shop. You almost lost me a customer.

MOB I said shut up.

TERU If I wasn't so busy, I would have fired you earlier.

Mob screams. He throws the shopping bags at Teru. Some fall halfway. Some miss. But one hits Teru right in the face.

A pause. Teru turns to Mob, a truly ugly grimace on his face.

TERU You!

Teru grips the scissors like a knife and lunges at Mob. He jerks back, hands catching Teru's. There's a struggle for dominance. Snip.

Snip?

Both freeze. They eye as a huge chunk of Teru's hair falls between them.

A long pause.

Teru lets out a heart-wrenching wail. He drops the scissors. Hands reach up, clutching at his now very uneven hair do.

MOB ... I'm sorry...

Teru falls to the floor. He curls up into a ball, shivering.

TERU It's over. I'm ruined. I'm done. Finished. A washed-up has-been.

MOB You can still fix it. Just even it out. Maybe.

Teru finally lifts his head. Tears and snot stream down his blotchy-red face.

TERU You don't get it! How could you? Living your dull, ugly life.

MOB You're not much better looking.

A pause. Teru blinks at him.

TERU Excuse me?

MOB You look the same as everyone else. To me, at least. It's good that you wear all those neon clothes. Or else I wouldn't know it was you.

A beat. Teru starts laughing. He laughs long and hard. The laughter turns into soft sobbing. Mob watches, unsure what to do.

TERU You're face blind? Of course you are. What is a god to a nonbeliever?

MOB ... Should I call an ambulance? Are you... okay?

TERU No, I am not. I've been arranging this stupid fashion show, when I don't have anything to show. I try and I try to design. But nothing comes. Hey, what do you think I'm doing wrong?

A pause.

TERU Look at me. Asking help from a -

MOB I can't wear any of your clothes. And I always thought it was a bit unfair... If only certain people can wear your clothes and others can't.

TERU That's just how the world works. It caters only to the special ones - those gifted with beauty and talent. Like moi.

MOB I don't know who moi is, but they can't be very special. And if you're just following what the world does... Then aren't you just like everyone else?

Another pause. Longer this time, softer. Teru looks at Mob, really looks at him.

TERU ... I'm sorry I called you... Well, you know what I called you.

MOB Yes. I'm still angry about that.

TERU Right. As you should be. I would like to... I don't mean to sound presumptive, but I'd like to earn your forgiveness - if I may!

MOB ... How?

TERU Well, first. You're definitely not fired.

MOB And Reigen-san?

TERU He isn't either. In fact, I'm giving you two some very important jobs.

Mob eyes Teru warily.

INT. CAFE - AFTERNOON

A popular hangout for college kids. Mismatched decor, worn out furniture, posters for open mic night. Currently crowded.

Teru and Ritsu sit together.

TERU Model for me, mon chéri.

RITSU I’m sorry. You want my brother to... what?

TERU Really. It's that simple.

RITSU ... And we are talking about my brother, right? Kageyama Shigeo?

TERU Do you have any more brothers?

RITSU Look... I... Can you just explain? Why him?

TERU Why is this so unbelievable? Do you not think he can be a model?

Ritsu flinches as if struck.

RITSU That’s-

TERU Well, if you really don’t understand.

RITSU Okay, you know what-

TERU I've worked with many top-class models. As I'm sure you know.

RITSU I didn't, actu-

TERU I'm used to certain standards of beauty. And your brother... failed to meet any.

RITSU So why -

TERU And I admit, upon first glance, I practically dozed off with how utterly dull he looks.

RITSU Hey now -

TERU But then! Oh but then! My eyes were opened! I was enlightened! Your brother has a certain... Mmmm... Je ne sais quoi...

Ritsu thumps his fist on the table.

RITSU Enough with the French! I get it! You're very cultured!

TERU Oh grazie.

Ritsu gifts him with a stare that could peel paint. Teru replies with a smile that could withstand a nuclear meltdown.

RITSU Alright, listen Hanazawa. I watch my brother very carefully. And ever since he started working with you, he's been more stressed out than ever. He's scratched himself hard enough to scar.

TERU I've been told that he's gotten better at that.

RITSU He shouldn't be working at your place. You need to fire him.

Teru studies Ritsu.

TERU ... You approached me to say this? Shouldn't you be convincing your brother to quit? Wouldn't that be easier?

RITSU Don't you think I've tried? He won't budge.

TERU Then why should I fire him? He's willing.

RITSU But he's not able! Surely you've noticed by now. My brother has... special needs.

A pause.

TERU I think your brother is perfectly capable of assessing his own limits.

RITSU And I think you just want to use him for your little scheme.

Teru's smile widens. He gets to his feet.

TERU Oh please, mon frére. None of my schemes have ever been little.

Teru exits.

Ritsu grits his teeth. Close up on his pained expression.

EXT. STREET - AFTERNOON

12 years ago.

Same shot of Ritsu's pained expression, now a 9 year old kid. He's got a cut on his head. It's bleeding profusely. He's watching a 10 year old Mob, currently in the middle of a meltdown.

RITSU Nii-san... Stop...

Mob is throwing rocks and beer bottles and whatever else he can get his hands on. He is screaming furiously and helplessly.

RITSU Please stop.

A bunch of older middle-school boys flee from him.

RITSU Stop!

Mob drags his hands down his arms. Scratching heavily. He curls into a ball.

A shot of Ritsu, squeezing his eyes shut.

INT. CAFE - AFTERNOON

Close up on Ritsu, eyes squeezed shut. He runs a hand down his face. He breathes out.

A pause.

He looks out the cafe window. He blinks. He sits up.

Pan over. Seen from Ritsu's point of view, Teru exits the cafe and dashes over to Mob, waiting across the street. They walk away together. Mob has his usual blank expression but he nods occassionally.

RITSU Nii-san... What are you up to?

INT. TERU'S WORKSHOP - MONTAGE

Mob and Teru bent over the drafting table. Teru presents some fabric swatches. Mob feels each one, giving feedback. Teru listens very carefully.

A dressform. A shirt mockup pinned to it. Mob attaches a sleeve. He looks back at Teru and gets a thumbs up.

Mob runs his fingers over a swatch of fabric. He takes in the dressform with its mostly assembled outfit. Teru approaches from behind, carrying two cups of tea. Mob accepts his. They both turn to look at the dressform.

Close up on the outfit. It's an elegant piece, made of soft material with no visible seams. It has a low-hemline, with long sleeves and a loose turtleneck collar. A blazer is draped on top and pair of loose, square cut pants. It looks appropriate for the office or a night out.

TERU I think we did a pretty good job.

Mob nods. A pleased smile.

INT. BACKSTAGE - EVENING

Chaos. Well-ordered chaos. Models are putting on their clothes, getting their make up done, being fussed over by Reigen. They all start lining up, ready for the runway.

Behind a dressing screen. Only Teru's and Mob's shadows can be seen. Teru is helping Mob put on the outfit they made.

TERU You can back out right now. I don't mind. I've treated you badly and I'd deserve it if you -

MOB I don't care about that. Not right now, at least.

TERU You're right. You're absolutely right. This is all about you. Mob, what do you want?

MOB I want to do this. I can.

TERU You can. You practiced. We did that dress rehearsal. This is your style. Own it.

A pause. Mob's shadow looks at Teru's.

MOB No more running.

TERU No more running. Now we strut.

Reigen rushes over. He's tapping at his watch.

REIGEN Teruki! Showtime!

INT. STAGE - EVENING

It's a packed room. People are seated on 3 sides of the catwalk. Bright lights render them all faceless. Lots of indistinct chatter.

Close up on the Cryptids. They're all seated together. Pan over to Mezato, seated off to the side.

Close up on Mr. and Mrs. Kageyama seated with Ritsu. They have a front row view. Mrs. Kageyama holds onto both her husband's and son's hands.

Teru walks on. Everyone hushes.

TERU Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming tonight. This collection gave me the hardest time. I had an artistic block. And then someone wise - much wiser than me - gave me a push in the right direction. I'd like to say this is my night. But it's not. My collaborator is the true heart and soul of this show. He focused on clothing for those with sensory issues. He forced me to think outside of my usual parameters. And if I am very lucky, I hope to continue working with him for a long, long time. (beat) Now you didn't come here for me to monologue at you. Let's start the show.

Teru steps off the stage. The models start walking out. The music is lively. The clothes are beautiful. Everyone murmurs appreciatively with each new piece. The music changes. The lights dim.

INT. BACKSTAGE - EVENING

REIGEN Alright, Mobbu. It's your turn.

Reigen turns around. Mob is out of the shot. But Reigen clearly likes what he sees.

REIGEN Go get 'em, kiddo.

INT. STAGE - EVENING

Mob walks on. He's wearing that elegant outfit. He looks confident. His shoulders are squared. His chin is lifted. He steps with grace and care and just that touch of attitude. At the catwalk's end, he strikes a simple pose - hands loose and free at his sides. His usual neutral expression shifts to allow a small smirk. Then he spins around and walks back down.

The Cryptids cheer wildly. The Kageyamas cheer wildly. The rest of the crowd follow their example. There's roaring applause.

The music quiets. The crowd slowly stops clapping. Teru retakes the stage.

TERU Please give it up for my excellent collaborator! Shigeo Kageyama!

A beat. The crowd claps. No one comes out. Teru glances over his shoulder.

Mob gets visibly pushed back on stage. He almost stumbles but manages to hide it by taking a wide step. He repeats his walk down to Teru, no less confident. A wide grin now obvious on his face.

The two face the crowd. They bow. Cheers fill the room.

THE END.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #terumob

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