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risuola · 11 months

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DO YOU WANT TO STAY? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

After the painful breakup with Satoru, your friends dragged you out for the party to have you loosen up, but the night went very wrong and very right.

cw: smut, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of alcohol, brief violence, mentions of blood and very, very minor injuries (like scratches), little bit of post-breakup depression but nothing major; angsty vibes nonetheless, reader discretion is advised — 5,5k words

In the coldness of the dark night, you tried to get to your apartment, kick off those high heeled torture devices you’ve decided to put on earlier that day and just sink into the softness of your bed. Maybe right after washing away the concoction of cologne that lingered all over your figure, resulting from the awful experience that was clubbing with your friends. Fed up with all of the drunk assholes that tried to get into your pants with no shame whatsoever, you left, sending just a short text to Suguru. Resigned after trying to catch a taxi for few minutes, you moved by feet, cussing under your breath for the shoes you wore and if not for the filthy ground that disgusted you, you’d already be barefoot.

Padding in short, quick steps, you dumbly decided to cut the way with the shortcut that led you through the dark, stripped of most lights side-street-areas, the ones that nobody in the right mind would choose at any circumstance, but you were far from the right mind, when your feet felt like they were bathing in their own blood, with skin peeling through each and every step you pushed forward. And you thought you’re being lucky that night, seeing nobody in your way as you strode through the dark alley, before your hopes crushed in pieces as few men twice your size stepped right in front of you. Instinctively, you backed out and glanced behind yourself, thinking that maybe it still wasn’t too late to run back to the main street, but as you did that, the way closed by another wall of muscle. Trapped in the circle of misfortune, you noticed the metallic shine of bats few of them held loosely propped on their shoulders as they measured you out with their filthy eyes, grinning so wildly, you could see their teeth reflecting light even in the darkness of the alley.

“What do we have here, huhh?” one of them spoke and a mixture of laughs and chuckles, huffs and groans followed the question, along with many disgusting comments that made the horny men in the club look nearly innocent, as you thought about it.

“I’m just passing,” you said, swallowing the shake of your voice down to at least look like you were keeping composure, which you definitely didn’t. Resignation began flooding your system whilst the circle tightened around you, invading your personal space, making you feel smaller than you really were and causing your brain to forget all of the self-defense skills you had. It wasn’t much, but anything could possibly be better than just giving up, but you were already broken, doubting that any more damage could make things worse.

Just a month ago, you broke up with your boyfriend of twelve. It was heading towards the first real anniversary of your seemingly joyful relationship when everything crumbled right in front of your eyes, collapsing like a house made of cards. Satoru Gojo was everyone’s favorite – truly, everyone loved him – girls wanted to be with him, boys wanted to be him; students admired him, he was teacher’s favorite with his perfect grades, the know-it-all, the golden boy and even his enemies, that he had a lot of, would give everything to just once wear his skin and be him, be the infamous Satoru. And he was yours, for a year before the bubble burst and everything you tried to build with him shattered, along with your whole world. He was your whole world, you loved him sincerely, with all his flaws that he had quite a few, with all of his charms and wits, all of his handsome looks and every single one worn out, tired picture he hid from the outside world, but you were his inside world so you saw all of him.

When the break-up happened and the ground underneath your feet crushed, leaving you in shock so deep that you bluntly agreed to staying friends, as he briefly suggested in between his venomous spits, considering your shared group of close friends, but it turned out that staying friends after being so close and intimate wasn’t necessarily possible, at least for you. With memories of many nights filled with exploring each other’s bodies to the point of nearly passing out tattooed inside your mind, you couldn’t just watch as he poured his natural charm onto someone else than you so you quickly cut him off, removing his socials from your followings, removing him from your sight and retracting from any group activity with people that you called your friends as well. You couldn’t be in places where he was present, couldn’t see how effortless flirting was for him just days after he became free, how well he was presenting himself when you tried your best not to cry at the thought of him alone, not to say the sight of him with the crowd of thirsty girls at his feet.

It’s been a month and you still felt broken, so broken, in fact, that you were deliberately giving up fight in the threatening situation you found yourself in. It was your fault, after all, to try and cut your way short when you should never step into one of those side-alleys, aware of what Tokyo darkness’ hides. Silently, you hoped to just die here quickly, as you wished many times in the past few weeks, the heartbroken feeling slowly suffocating you inside the walls of your apartment that you trapped yourself in before your friends forced you out to club that night. And you pulled yourself together earlier that day, made yourself look presentable and even put on those fucking heels, determined to drown your sorrows in the sweet alcoholic drinks, to open up to new people, to feel like yourself once again and maybe, just maybe, find yourself a man, even if it’s just for the night because no one could replace Satoru. And you failed miserably, unable to have any fun in the crowded, sweaty space full of swaying bodies and disgusted at the thought of having sex with anyone there. You were never a party nor quickie kind of girl, you only began attending clubs with Satoru as he liked those loud musical gatherings and you found comfort alongside him, with the safe shelter of his protective arms the crowd around you seemed nonexistent and now, as the barrier of his muscles was taken away, you felt almost threatened by the drunk-dazed atmosphere so you ran away, giving in to your self-preservation instincts that clearly wore off when you turned into the alley off the main road.

“What should we do with you, princess?” one man asked, grinning widely and you felt the coldness of his steely bat underneath your chin that forced your head up enough to face him. “Oh, don’t cry, it’s gonna be soooo fun,” another added and it's at this point that you realized that a tear run down your cheek so you quickly wiped it away, wondering if it was caused by the fear or the wave of regret following the rush of memories that just a second ago flooded your system as you tried to recall why you even ended up in that situation, reminding yourself of the post-Satoru depression. “For us, at least. For you maybe not so much,” a laugh reached your ear from the back as you felt a hand gluing itself to the curve of your waist, and you flinched uncontrollably while your whole body was declining you anything above that movement. Cursing yourself, cursing the world around you, you tried to force your muscles to contract again, to move at any direction, to run if you’re lucky. Maybe the high heeled shoes could make for a weapon, maybe you could at least poke someone’s eye out, maybe you could do something, but instead, you did nothing. Squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your head, resigned and slowly agreeing to enter hell that was about to open right before you, you froze once again hearing a pained whine right behind your back. The palm that just a second ago was pressed disgustingly to your body was now gone and you were too scared to look at what happened so you stood in place, hoping that a black hole opened behind you, swallowing the man that threatened you.

“I’ll say it only once,” a voice you heard made your eyes snap open, but you kept them fixed on the ground, convinced that your brain, influenced by alcohol, fear and despair, was making things up at this point. “All of you, keep your hands off of her, understood? It’d better if y’all just run so nobody gets hurt.” You heard it again, you heard him again, the strict tone with honeyed undercurrent, and the shadows consumed your trembling figure as his towering body stood in front of you, effectively creating a barrier between you and the gangsters. You raised your head, your eyes run over the lines of his broad back until they finally landed on the messy head of snowy-white hair that even in the murky area stood out. He looked relaxed, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his varsity jacket and his head tilted slightly to the side. You took one step back but your feet met something that block it – that something being an unconscious body of a man that previously was touching your side. Stunned, you looked forward once again, only to see the scene of calculated violence playing out as Satoru easily dealt with hooligans. With quick, impressive displays of agility and strength, he put down one by one, effectively clearing the way for you to go home, but you stayed where you were until he finally finished the beating.

“Y’alright?” he asked and all you could do was nod when he grabbed your forearm, pulling you to leave the place of danger. Your body barely moved, tensed painfully and you felt the burn spreading along your skin from where his fingers were wrapped around your flesh. Forcing your legs to move, you tried to match his pace as he was leading the way towards your flat, hand still keeping a secure hold on you as he looked forward.

It’s in front of your building when you finally jerked your arm out of his grasp and he looked down at you, almost offended at how desperately you distanced yourself from his touch when before you’d lean into it instantly. Standing there, you finally locked eyes with his crystalline blue ones, that were looking down at you through the light strands of his hair and you couldn’t help but notice they’re longer than he’d usually keep them, crossing the length of comfort – as he used to call it – with the pukes irritating his eyes when below it. His seemingly neutral expression hid some tension, you noticed his brows creasing just slightly and his jaw flexing underneath the light layer of his skin.

“I leave you for what, few weeks, and you’re already getting in trouble?” he snapped rolling his eyes out of habit, but you could tell it was far from his usual teasing tone and he hated the way you were looking at him, or rather, through him. Your ability to see through every single of his little lies never annoyed him more than in this very moment, whilst you two stood awkwardly underneath the block you live in – the same one he used to live in with you, finding it convenient because of the shorter route he had to take from your place to college, comparing to the one he had from his own. “No wonder you’re in hot water when you walk naked through the shadiest alleys available.”

“I’m not naked, Gojo.”

“Gojo, huh?” he hummed in displease and chuckled bitterly at the unfamiliar sound of his last name rolling off your tongue. “That’s what you revoke me to? Not even a ‘thank you’ for saving your dumb ass a moment ago?”

“I don’t recall calling for your help,” you snapped, feeling the sudden wave of anger washing over you, as his words stung just as they were a month ago, but the angry feeling was gone as soon as it flowed in, when you noticed his hands. Knuckles stained in red, glistening in the street-lights as some spots were still bleeding after he punched down a little group of hooligans barehanded. In your defense. “You’re bleeding.”

“Another reason why you should be a little more thankful”, narrowing his eyes, he tried to hide his hands from you but you grabbed one of them and as you examined the damage, guilt began making your eyes wet, your mind unable to bear with the thought of any hurt happening to the man you still love so much it began killing you the second he was gone. Blinking the tears away, you exhaled. “Come inside, I’ll-“

“No need,” he grunted instantly, taking his hand back by force but you insisted, “please, let me at least clean these.”

Satoru started to regret the decision as soon as he stepped into your apartment, with all of the memories hitting him like a brick the moment he looked around the place. It looked all too familiar, everything so similar to how he left it a month ago, he was almost convinced you didn't change anything since that day. A blanket he bought you still hung loosely on the couch back rest, a cup from which he used to drink his morning coffee still was standing on the kitchen counter and even the chair in the living room was still pushed near the sofa, serving no real purpose for you whilst he liked to put his legs up while watching TV, being too tall to fit comfortably on your furniture. Everything felt so similar, like it was his home but now it wasn’t anymore.

“Come”, you snapped him from the trance and he followed you to kitchen island, where you already pulled the first aid kit to dress his injuries. You made him sit on the high-chair, while you kept standing on the ground and as you focused on cleaning his knuckles gently, Satoru could shamelessly analyze your features. Unable to deny your cute concentration, the corners of his mouth curled up just slightly as he noticed your brows furrow when you discovered more and more scratches along his skin. If it was his decision, he would just wash his hand at home and call it, but you always liked to take care of him and he often got home with scratches, sometimes getting them just to be tend by you, making you laugh at the unwise effort. If he wanted more attention from you, he could have asked – you always said, joking that although you’d try, you’re not sure if more attention was even possible as he took all of your mind. Now, as he looked at the precise movements of your gentle fingers, he wondered if he’s still appearing in your thoughts sometimes or have you pushed him out completely.

With a cloth and warm water, you cleaned the blood off his knuckles, revealing many little wounds that although shallow and harmless, will sting like hell when you use the disinfectant so you sighed quietly, already hating the thought of hurting him more. “There was no need for all that,” your voice was quiet enough, that if not for the complete silence of your apartment, he might have missed it. “You just got hurt.”

“And you might have been hurt much more than I am now,” he forced his tone to sound somewhat calm but his insides were burning. How could you say such things? How could you prioritize his well-being over your own, after what he’s put you through.

“I kinda wish I was,” you blurted out, pressing the gauze soaked in alcohol to his knuckles but it caused no reaction, as Satoru looked at you stunned. The words that just left your mouth were sinking in, and he found himself unable to speak.

“What do you even mean?” he forced finally, his voice lower and angrier and you tensed at the sound of his usual soft, melodic tone now stained with rageful undertones. “What do you mean, ‘you wish you were hurt’?”

“Pain that’s physical is easier to bear,” you replied quietly and cleared your throat, changing the subject as you finished wrapping his hands with thin, protective layer of bandage. “It should be good.”

"And what makes you so unhappy that you're that desperate for your body to hurt, huh?" Satoru asked, his face twisting in annoyance. "Surely, it cannot be me." The thought alone, the very idea that he might be the reason for you wanting to feel physical pain just to dull the mental made his insides turn with guilt but his effort to sound unbothered caused you to shut down and step back.

"No," you lied, packing up the first aid kit, looking strictly down. "It's nothing, forget it."

"It's not nothing, I want to know-"

"Not everything can always be as you want it," you snapped, walking away to put the kit where it belonged in the kitchen cabinet, silently hating yourself for the tears that moistened your eyes, hating the heartbroken feeling he fueled so skillfully with his nonchalant speech. You exhaled shakily, "y-you should go."

"Yeah. I think I should," he got up from the chair but instead of heading out, he circled the island in few large strides to catch your shaking hands and pull you into his chest. "But I won't. I need to talk to you. I have to."

"You said everything a month ago. You said enough back then, do you truly have anything to add?", the question rendered you hopeful that he's not going to say anything more because you couldn't take anything more. You were hurt through and through, your soul was crying and bleeding every second of every day since the one that broke you and you knew that you were way too close to the edge to take any more stabs of his sharp tongue and not fall down.

"Yes, I have," he kept you close but you don't fight. With your cheek pressed against his heartbeat and his strong hands secured around your shoulders and back, you kept yours down, hanging alongside your body afraid to touch him because if you’d allow your arms to embrace him, you might never let him go, risking another tear of your soul if he ripped away. "I want to apologize. For everything I did and I said then and now, and any time. I'm constantly talking shit, I don't know – fuck, I feel like sometimes my brain just shuts off. I'm sorry."

"You're what?", stunned, you forgot how to breathe and only whisper pushed through your mouth as you listened to his rambling.

"I'm sorry, y/n, sugar. I'm sorry, I've never... I didn't mean to- I don't know, I don't even know how explain it."

He spoke and your world stopped.

"What does that mean?", you asked, unable to hide the spark of hope that crawled into your voice as you breathed in his scent, absorbing his aura full of familiarity and warmth that you used to bask in every day since you got together. Your relationship always was heavily physical, it was the love language you both shared and you loved the way his hands never seemed to not be touching you, whether it was keeping you pressed against his chest or just smoothing over your hand with his fingers.

"It means I'm an idiot, that's what it means. No one ever I can love like I love you; I can't stop thinking about you, I can't sleep, god, I feel like I can't breathe. What I'm trying to say, uh... Fuck, I miss you, 'kay?"

"But you told me to go to hell", you reminded yourself and him as well, in your head replaying the cruel record that broke your world into pieces. "You told me-"

"I know", he stopped you from talking and you felt his body shifting slightly as his hand found your cheek, cupping it tenderly and lifting it so you looked up at him. Locking eyes with his light blue crystals you searched for the truth but couldn’t see anything. Satoru's heart broke once again when he noticed the intense shine of your eyeballs, wet from tears that you desperately tried to hold back. "That day I was... It was a bad day; nothing justifies it but I wasn’t thinking clearly. That day I hurt everyone around me, you, Suguru, Shoko, I even insulted Mei and she’s hard to hurt. Chain reaction of my stupidity, I ruined everything and as they forgot about it quickly, I couldn't bring myself to face you after what rolled off my tongue. And then I couldn't find you."

"I couldn't be seeing you so shamelessly flirting with everyone around you. I cut myself off", you said quietly, laying your hand over his own pressed against your cheek as his thumb smoothed over the damp skin underneath your lower lashes, wiping the salty residues away.

"I was being stupid," he sighed. His eyes lowered a little to glance over your lips, suddenly unable to resist you, losing the last bits of self-control the longer he looked at you. "It's you that I love, sugar." With that, his head lowered slowly, giving you enough time to push him away if you really wanted to, but you stayed in place, as if you were expecting what follows so he pressed his lips against yours, squeezing the gasp out of your chest and you couldn’t fight him when he was kissing you like he's starved.

The moment your mouths connected made you feel dizzy and you felt your knees buckling underneath the weight of his feeling. Instinctively, feeling you lose your balance, Satoru grabbed you by the hips and lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on top of the kitchen island and wiggling his way in between your legs to keep your body as close to his own as possible. You whined quietly, feeling the cold marble underneath your naked thighs where the dress rolled up. The kiss became messier, burning with lust and longing and you wrapped your legs around his middle, pulling him even closer, already tugging at his t-shirt that realistically you couldn’t take off because of the jacket still hugging his broad shoulders. Gojo read your intentions and pushed the garment off, breaking the kiss just for a second so you could take the black blouse off of his toned body, revealing the light skin strangely clear of any nail marks and love bites that you usually adorned him with and he wore those with pride. Your hands glued themselves to the softness of his flesh, examining the bumps of muscles flexing beneath your touch, and he crashed his lips against yours once again, kissing you messy and teethy as your tongues danced to the fiery melody of desire. Satoru was quick to encourage your dress to come even higher, his hand reached to the back, where he knew a full-dress-length zipper was waiting to be pulled down and he grinned into the kiss whilst exposing your velvety skin completely to his disposal. Wasting no time, he took you closer, smoothing over curves of your perfect figure, squeezing your supple flesh and you melted into the touch of his warm fingers with a soft whine that you couldn’t stop.

Satoru moved down, smearing kisses along your face, through jawline and onto your neck and shoulders and you couldn’t hold back a quiet moan at the feeling of his plush lips sucking spots on their way down. Brushing through his silky white strands, you allowed him to push down the straps of your lacy bra and before you noticed, it was off and on the ground as the man lifted you up from the cold counter, heading towards the conjoined living area and soon dropping you onto the soft couch, following you closely. You bounced slightly off the pillowy seats as he hovered above you, his lips glued to your skin, marking and exploring every inch as he moved down to take care of your chest and you stroked his strong shoulders, scratching them red.

Your body jolted up when suddenly you felt pressure of Satoru’s fingers over your clothed clit, as he rubbed circles over the sensitive bud while his mouth worked your perky nipples. The way his tongue danced around the pebble and how his teeth grazed the delicate skin continuously made you forget your own name, but for him it mattered only if you remembered his. Your mind became hazy, you felt like nothing else existed except for the man above you and you made your way down to unbuckle his jeans, impatiently diving your hand right into his boxers and wrapping your cold digits around his already hardened shaft. His cock was thick and leaking, begging for attention and it sprung out long when you pulled him out the trap that was his underwear. Satoru moaned against your breast, for a moment forgetting about the nipple in his mouth that he was in the middle of teasing, when he felt your grip moving up and down his length just right, spreading the pre-cum over it, and he knew he cannot wait any longer. He raised up on his knees, taking the panties off your body and finally kicking away the rest of his clothes before he fell back over you. His face met yours in another passionate, wet kiss and you moaned into it, as he worked his fingers between your folds, bullying your tenderness shamelessly and forcing many more sweet whines and whimpers from your chest.

“Satoruuu”, you mewled and he grinned at the sound of his name coming from you. “Don’t tease me so much, please”, pleading, you tugged at his hair and he chuckled at the eagerness in your tone. But he knew how big he is and even sleeping with him regularly, he more often than not had to prepare you for the stretch that was Gojo Satoru. “Don’t wanna hurt you, yeah?”, he smiled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking softly at the pulse and you just wanted him inside, no matter the consequences. “I can take you”, you ensured, “please, ‘toru.”

And what kind of man would Satoru be if he denied a pretty lady what she wanted and if feeling the burn is what you truly desired, he was going to give it to you. Being desperate himself,he stroked his length few times more before he smeared the head along your soaked folds and aligned the tip at your entrance, already knowing he’s gonna see tears very soon. And he did – your cheeks dampened as the burning stretch paralyzed the nerves all along your body and the tearing pleasure waved over your entire existence. Satoru groaned low through his clenched teeth at how your velvety walls were squeezing around his shaft as he slowly bottomed out. “God, I love you so much,” he growled into your ear and your dead-grip on his shoulders softened, letting him know that he’s good to move so he dragged his hips back almost completely, engrossed with the way your tight pussy tried to suck him back. Hot wave rushed through your body, as he began thrusting slowly and purposefully, clawing at one of your hips to ground himself before he loses composure in the way your cunt swallowed him whole time after time. He supported his weight on the other hand on the armrest behind your head, and gven the access to his body, you allowed your hands to wander all over his well-build form, leaving scratches and crescent-moons here and there with your long nails. Your fingers moved on their own, subconsciously tracing over the familiar musculature, refreshing the memory of a body that was burned into your mind. A whimper left your mouth when Satoru rolled his hips into you quicker, picking up the pace gradually and it almost hurt how deep he reached, kissing every sensitive spot inside you and it made your mind go blank of anything that wasn’t him. You smoothed over his flexing biceps, squeezing it tightly when he adjusted the position of your hips to ram his own into them harder.

Smearing kisses along your jawline, Gojo tasted your skin with pleasured hums, drowning in divine feeling of your pretty cunt eagerly taking him in, listening to the whimpers and mewls intertwined with little I love you’s that slipped through your parted lips in breathy tones. Warmth began pooling below his stomach as he praised you for doing so well after such long time and you cried out a moan when his hips buckled up sharper and rougher. He was drunk in the godly presence that you were, intoxicating himself with everything that was you – your taste, the scent your delicate skin held, the image of your flushed cheeks glistening with tears that his size caused and those were the only tears he accepted on your face. Beautiful crystals of wetness gathering along your lashes as he split you open with the unforgivable pace he has set, pushing up against every sweet spot inside of you and making you lose every last bit of real-world connection.

Blissful daze suited you and Satoru couldn’t get enough of the sight of your fucked out expression, wearing the same one himself, as his pace stuttered due to the delightful series of twitches and flexes your pussy did around him. Your toes were curling, thighs shaking and it only made him go harder. In a messy cacophony of pants and whines, you managed to unknowingly call his name again and again, ridding Satoru of every last bit of clear-thinking as suddenly, he wanted to hear only that sweet sound of your breathless voice. The voice he’s been dreaming about for the last weeks.

His cock twitched and thickened inside of you, pressuring your sensitive walls even more as he collapsed on his elbow next to your ribcage, sliding his forearm below your arched back and reaching new angles as your hips rolled forward. His fingers curled over your soft flesh as he was slamming his pelvis into your own, his pace became messied, more rushed, as he felt your orgasm approaching. You creamed all over his shaft, the white gathering at the base of it, as your pussy tightened and squelched delightfully in waves. Your gaze was heavy and you couldn’t focus on where your hands were landing as you felt the bliss washing all over your figure. Your thighs were trembling, your nails run over Gojo’s back, leaving red marks that for sure will sting later and you held onto his shoulders for dear life when he picked up the tempo even more, chasing his own release. Smearing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your chest, Gojo leaned into the dip above your collar bone, groaning and breathing heavily as in few more pushes, his orgasm snapped, rushing hot with his load spilling inside of you. You felt his teeth sinking into your skin right where your neck connected to the shoulder and you couldn’t help but moan once again at the new painful pleasure. His brute pace slowed down, becoming messy and languid and his body fell over you, weighing you down onto the couch. You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him from lifting up, not at all caring about his weight crashing your own. Last drops of his load were squeezed by your walls before he slowly pulled out, exhaling deeply against your skin and you laughed joyfully.

Your voice was tired, your entire body ached from the unexpected activity but you felt happy for the first time in a month, suddenly grateful for your friends to take you out that day. Satoru at first basked in the sound of your chuckle before he joined, overwhelmed by the blissful daze. Both of you were worn off, sticky and completely fucked out and yet deeply satisfied and although still far from good as a pair, it already was much better.

“Fuck, I love you so much”, Satoru breathed out, planting few soft, ghosting kisses over the imprint of his teeth that already began to bruise up, coloring your smooth complexion with reds and purples as the mark was blooming.

“Do you, uh-“, you started but voice died down your throat; you were terrified of an answer. Gathering the strength, you continued, “do you want to stay…? With me…?”

Satoru grinned handsomely as he lifted his head up and your sight met the crystalline blue gaze of his eyes. His white eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, mesmerizing you all over again with the magical look of his features, his cheeks still stained with the faint blissful flush and you looked at his face with hope. “Yes”, he finally spoke and you felt your heart banging against your ribcage, as if it wanted to jump through it and kiss him itself. “I want to stay with you. Forever.”

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martiniblues · 8 months

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what a feeling ; 이민형

pairing idol!mark x female!reader

synopsis it’s not easy keeping your relationship with your idol boyfriend a secret, especially when he’s halfway across the country and would do anything to hop on a plane and get you in an instant. but little does he know that you’ve already beat him to that idea.

genre established relationship, a teeny tiny bit of angst, reader uses she!her pronouns and is described in a feminine way, so so so much fluff, mutual comfort, slightly suggestive.

wc 1.6k

song : what a feeling by one direction

mark: i would do anything in this world to be w you baby :(((

you: i knowwww but these next few weeks will go by so quick!!! we will be back together in no time<33

you quickly turned off your phone and adjusted your outfit for the hundredth time in the bathroom mirror. “i feel like i’m going to puke out my breakfast!” you leaned your back against the sink, facing one of mark’s staff members you had grown to befriend over your time as being mark’s girlfriend.

“it’s going to be fine. i promise you, he’s been doing nothing but talking about how much he misses you and begs his manager every chance he gets to let him fly out to you.” the words made you drop your head to avoid anyone seeing your flushed cheeks.

you and mark had been dating for awhile now, but it was your first time flying out to see him and see him perform outside of your home city.

what if he doesn’t want to see you?

what if he’s too stressed to see you?

“what if-“ you’re quickly cut off with multiple dings chiming from your friend’s phone. she quickly read the notifications and grabbed your arm.

“okay, they’re almost done running this last set, and then they’ll be back here.” she quickly drags you out of the hallway bathroom and into a new room.

a big white table sat against the wall with various foods, makeup, hair tools, and pieces of clothing scattered about. you noticed an oversized black and gray stripped hoodie that belonged to none other than your boyfriend. resisting the urge to grab it to warm your cold body, you hid behind the big white door, listening for any sound of the boys.

your heart began to race once you heard the hoots and hollers from the very familiar voices of mark’s members. talks of dinner and after-rehearsal plans hung in the air with no notice of mark’s voice.

the guys had already been informed of your plan, so when they greeted you with small hugs and smiles, you shouldn’t have been shocked. but there was no sign of your boyfriend anywhere among the eight men in front of you.

reading the puzzled look on your face, johnny answered, “he’s still working on his solo stage. the dumbass insisted he do it again, even though it’s perfect."

“if only he knew she was back here… man, he would forget all about being a perfectionist then.” yuta laughed as he joined johnny next to you.

“can you take me to him? i cant deal with the wait anymore.” you pouted, leaning against the wall, as you felt the wave of clattering butterflies begin to build in your stomach.

without a word, the two boys led you to the side of the stage where you could see mark sitting in a black chair, mic in hand, and body slouched back as he rapped smoothly.

it took everything in you to not run across the stage and pounce on him that instant, but something about the words coming out of his mouth and the vibe he carried in his subtle but sharp moves made you become entranced by him, as he always did to you.

“okay that was good, mark. we can rehearse more tomorrow!” a deep voice came over the speakers as the song stopped, leaving mark exhausted against his chair. your heart broke into a million little pieces, seeing the evident distress and exhaustion stitched in his figure.

“i think it looked perfect.” your mouth moved before your brain, not able to resist your boyfriend anymore. his head quickly snapped to your figure, which emerged into the stage lights only a few feet away from him.

“oh my god…” his voice came out quickly as his face pulled into an expression nothing less than shock, shooting up from his chair and bolting his body to yours.

his body slammed into yours before picking you up and spinning you around as his hands gripped onto you for dear life. “oh my fucking god” he let out again into your neck as you giggled and weaved your hands into his sweaty, messy hair.

“surpise!” you smiled so hard that you felt like your face might get stuck as you pulled back to look at mark, only to find him with the same expression.

“h-how… what? when did-“ his stuttering was quickly cut off by your lips on his. he slowly let your feet touch the ground and arched your body slightly as the kiss deepened quickly due to all the pent-up feelings the two of you shared for each other.

you couldn’t help your smile, teeth clanking slightly, before you pulled back to look at mark once again. “i couldn’t do the distance anymore. i had to see you.” your breathing came out ragged due to mark practically taking your breath away.

“you have no idea how close i was to flying out to you, baby” he said, swaying your bodies slightly, forgetting about the fact that you two were in the middle of a giant stage and had many people observing you.

“beat you to it though,” you sassed before a small ‘whatever’ left your boyfriend’s lips right as his fell onto yours again.

“this is so cute and everything, but can we please go eat?" haechan whined from one of the wings. the words made you two pull back in giggles, lacing your fingers together before following the guys off the stage.

“see you two lovebirds later!” johnny waved while you and mark got out of his car. “and be safe!” haechan added quickly. before mark was able to slap him for his suggestive comment, the brunette locked his passenger side door swiftly.

after the last few goodbyes, you and mark made way to his airbnb he rented for this multi-day show.

“i can't believe this,” you breathed, swinging your joined hands enthusiastically. “believe what?”

mark turned his body, quickly switching his hands so that he was still interlocked with you, but was now walking backwards facing you. a dopey smirk grew on his lips as you visibly reddened.

“this. us being here together finally.” you pulled him closer by his forearm, stopping the two of you directly in front of his door. not even reaching for his key, mark leaned down and kissed your lips for the thousandth time that night, but this one held a much greater weight than the rest.

his free hand perched itself on your lower back, warming the cool, exposed skin between your top and jeans. no matter how many times you and mark kissed (and maybe it was the prolonged distance causing this effect), this felt like the very first time.

chills blooming through every pore, heat taking over your body, brain melting into a mark-shaped puddle. he took over every sense, and you did the same to him.

“i love you so fucking much. i don’t think i can take this distance anymore.” he pulled back, lacking breath from your lips moving feverishly with his.

you two stood for a few heavy seconds, just staring at each other. if it weren’t for the dim light perched by the door, you wouldn’t have noticed the way mark’s eyes glossed over and how his lips pulled together into a straight line.

“i don’t think i can either.” you choked out, reaching for him again and pulling his body flush with yours. your hand raked itself in his hair, and the other wrapped its way around his broad shoulders. soft sniffles filled the now silent night, aside from the crickets chirping in the grass.

“i love you too.” you wiped his tears running down his soft cheeks and kissed them quickly before deciding to head inside.

the events following were slow and thoughtful. even if you both didn’t want to face the distance again, you knew it was inevitable.

you and mark were entangled in his bed. his head rested on your chest as he drew random swirls on your forearm while your other arm fell beneath his head. hand scratching his scalp repeatedly.

“i’ve never had this feeling before.” mark spoke into the silence. you moved your hand to tilt his head up level with yours. “what feeling?” you asked, assuming he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“just being beside you right now, holding you in my arms. it has me on fire. i’ve never felt this way about someone before."his eyes searched your face in a way that made you want to duck under the covers, but with his body practically on top of yours, that became undoable.

“me too. you make me feel things i didn’t even know were possible.” your words came out softly, embarrassed to be so vulnerable. "well, you could just say i’m amazing in bed but… i’ll take the more poetic version i guess.” you pushed his head away from you in annoyance at his dirty words.

“not like that, you freak!” the both of you giggled. mark pulled his body up to trap you beneath his arms. before you could even recover, he began littering your face with kisses.

“what a feeling!” he pulled away with a big smile on his face, teeth and all. it made you want to squeeze his cheeks from the sweetness of it all, but you resisted the urge.

“what a feeling!” you echoed, a smile pulling its way on your face in the same fashion as mark’s.

a few more kisses and loving gestures were exchanged before you two eventually fell asleep. consumed with this indescribable feeling rushing through your body, making you fall more and more in love.

if that was even possible.

note: 1D x nctdream is TOO GOOD. i’m seriously debating on making this a little series w the dreamies (let me know what songs you think of with what member!!!) anyway, love you lots and please leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed!!

#nct #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct fluff #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 fic #mark lee x reader #mark lee scenarios #mark lee angst #mark lee x you #nct mark lee #nct mark

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 4 months

Note

RoR x Replacement Fighter Part 2

When the reader has healed, the gods/humans and the reader decide to get to know each other better. This can take place underneath a gazebo in the Valhalla Gardens, at a festival, in a gaming room, etc. As the reader was now wearing an all-black outfit that included a short-sleeve T shirt, pants, a chain necklace, and a stylish belt, their tattoos became pretty noticeable. Some of them blushed by the way the reader looked now. Others kept fidgeting because of it.

The reader's appearance :

They were amazed to find out that the reader was pretty young (around 20) and completed their education quite early. The reader also have the ability to speak in multiple languages (English, Burmese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Laotian, etc.), which the gods/humans noticed as the reader was talking on their phone with their friends. Probably cussing out loud too.

The reader then invites the god/human to their apartment. The entire apartment was freezing cold and had dark neon green LED lights that were all stuck neatly on the walls. There were also traditional Burmese and Thai statues that were set up as decorations. Some of them noted the masks and puppets in a glass wardrobe near the furniture. There was also a large fish tank or aquarium in their apartment filled with Koi and Arapaima fish, which a few gods and humans went straight to observe.

The details of the apartment :

Some gods/humans did get a light hearted smack on the back of their head though. Either for trying to go inside the tank, for fooling around with the masks & puppets, for accusing the reader of being affiliated with the mafia, or because someone tried to smash up the serpent sculptures due to getting flashbacks from their previous battles. (Thor 💀)

Gods: Odin, Thor, Anubis, Susanoo, Loki, Apollo and Poseidon

Humans: Sasaki, Lubu, Tesla and Leonidas

-Today was the day that (Love) and several others were going to your place for the first time, after he and other fighters in Ragnarok had been begging to get to know you more, curious about you- they wanted to know as much as possible.

-Your house was in a quiet part of Valhalla and surprisingly looked relatively normal, nothing really out of the ordinary, at least on the outside of your house.

-When you answered the door, you looked a little disheveled, as if you had only just gotten up, your hair sticking up in random angles, baggy sweatpants, and a tight black tee-shirt on top, showing off the tattoos on your arms, which seemed a bit more vibrant today.

-Several, including (Love) flushed, you looked so alluring as you yawned, “Oh- was that today?” your sleepy voice was so alluring as you opened the door, welcoming them all in, as none of them made any mention that it was past noon and you had only just gotten up.

-As soon as they stepped inside, their jaws all dropped open, seeing that the vibe of your house didn’t fit the vibe of the outside of your house.

-It was dark, with bright neon lights and light strips everywhere, giving it a strange but ethereal vibe as Loki and Anubis gasped, running over to your massive fish tank that took up a whole wall in your living room, filled with koi fish and arowana fish, complete with more lights shining from the bottom.

-You scratched the back of your head, going towards your kitchen to start the coffee maker as many of the others were exploring the rest of your home, seeing the multitude of weapons, puppets, statues, and masks, all with labels next to them, hailing from Thailand and Burma.

-Apollo was fine, but others were quickly shivering as the sun god came over to you as you leaned against your kitchen counter, “Do you always keep your apartment so cold?”

-You looked over at him, an eyebrow lifting, “It’s cold in here?” several heads snapped over to you, how could you not tell that it was freezing in your own apartment?! You didn’t seem bothered, so you were obviously used to it.

-Poseidon and Nikola were looking at several diplomas on another wall, showing them the various institutes that you had gone to when you visited earth, showing them both, as well as the others, when Nikola came over to gush at you, that you were extremely smart.

-Nikola was like a hyperactive dog, not that you minded, as he asked what kind of languages that you spoke, as he had seen diplomas from all around the world!

-You counted on your finger, like you didn’t know exactly how many yourself, “English, Burmese…uhh Japanese and Korean- what else, oh Laotian, Thai, French… I think there’s more but…” you trailed off, not able to bring the names to mind at the moment but they were stunned to see you so well rounded!

-You were like a warrior scholar- they all knew you were a fierce warrior, and Lu Bu and Thor couldn’t help but feel a little antsy, seeing the variety of weapons you had in your place- you should know how to use all of these right? They wanted to fight you!!

-With the dark lighting, strange decorations and overall intimidating feel your place had, a few had to wonder if you were actually a dangerous person, as Loki popped up in front of you, “Are you part of the mafia?!”

-Instantly you were pinching his cheek, a slight scowl on your face as you sipped your coffee as he was begging you for mercy, much to the amusement of others.

-You didn’t mind them taking the masks off the wall, or picking up the weapons, as long as they didn’t break anything- you didn’t feel like you were in the mood for breaking any of them, and as long as they put things back, you didn’t mind them exploring your place.

-Had no idea you were such a well-rounded individual, you had it all, brains, strength, and good looks- you were the perfect package!! With each new thing that he discovered, he wanted to know more and more about you, as well as get closer to you- wanting you all to himself. However, he never did get an answer from you- are you part of the mafia?! He was determined to find out, but he didn’t want to risk you pinching his cheeks.

-Apollo, Loki, and Anubis

-His eyes were full of delight, a smile on his lips as he turned towards you, fire burning within his very soul as you finished your coffee, putting the mug down, “Fight me Y/N!!” you blinked, turning back to him, a confused look on your face, “Why?” he faltered only for a moment, “Because that’s the best way for us to get to know each other!” You motioned over your shoulder with a thumb, “I don’t feel like it- want to play a board game instead?” Why were you so difficult sometimes?!

-Thor, Susanoo, Lu Bu, and Leonidas

-Couldn’t help but admire your home, it was so unique, he found something new each time he looked, but unlike others who were taking things off the wall, he minded himself, just looking with his eyes. As he wandered, he kept finding more and more oddball things and he couldn’t help himself going over to you, “Why is your house filled with so many odd things?” you looked confused, as you didn’t see anything wrong with the way your house was decorated, “Odd? There’s nothing odd here- except you guys.” (Love’s) eyelid twitched lightly, you were such a thickheaded ding dong sometimes, but that was part of what made you cute.

-Odin, Poseidon, Kojiro, Nikola

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror apollo #ror loki #ror anubis #ror thor #ror susanoo #ror lu bu #ror leonidas #ror odin #ror poseidon #ror kojiro sasaki #ror nikola tesla

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lily-alphonse · 2 months

Text

Sebastian Headcanons Misc

"CaFfEiNe DoEsN't ReAlLy AfFeCt Me" needs Monster to survive, sleep is super fucked

Natural hair is thick and curly like Robin's, but is actually just brown (not red)

Hates how it frizzes when it rains, still goes out in the rain anyway for sad boy vibes. And frogs.

Steals eyeliner and nail polish from Abigail and Robin

Lights his room with LED color-changing light strips. Green is reserved for when he needs comforting

#stardew valley #sebastian my beloved #sdv sebastian #stardew valley headcanons #headcanon #lily speaks

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wannab-urs · 5 months

Text

Ravage

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x f!Reader (in the role of Venetia)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: “Oh birdie… I could just eat you.” OR Saltburn-style hate as consumption

Warnings: Weird vibes, period/menstruation smut, bloodplay and blood consumption, weird classism stuff, biting, fingering, oral f!receiving

A/N: Inspired by, but not a one for one recreation of, the Saltburn vampire scene between Ollie and Venetia. It’s a little combo of both scenes between them that take place outside the mansion + some details I thought would make it more interesting. Oh and I skipped the ED stuff. Thanks to @beskarandblasters and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me yell about this fic

Ezra Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’d left your room in a near daze, wandering the halls of your family’s estate barefoot and in your thin nightdress. A wraith speared through by the moonlight, flitting from corridor to corridor until you ended up outside. You settled on a bench just below the guest room window and gazed out toward the labyrinth. It felt, often, as if your mind were trapped in that hedge maze. Circling, wandering, endlessly lost.

“Birdie?”

You nearly topple off the bench, a scream getting tangled in your throat and falling in a pathetic whimper from your lips.

“Fucking hell, you scared me.”

Ezra, your brother’s friend, steps out of the shadows. He pops his knee out and puts his hands on his hips, eyeing you.

“Apologies, little bird. I feared you might be sleepwalking.”

You give the man a withering glare. His way of speaking seems to come naturally to him, though from anyone else you’d swear it was some sort of performance. Perhaps a mockery of high society or the educated class.

“I just wanted to look at the moon. It’s nearly full. You know what that means?” You turn your gaze to the sky and draw your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Can’t say that I do. Enlighten me.”

You flick your eyes to him without dropping your chin. “We’re all about to lose our minds.”

Ezra stares at you a moment, the blonde patch in his hair nearly glowing in the light, and a deep chuckle suddenly bubbles from his chest. You join him in his laughter, even though you think he’s making fun of you. He goes quiet again, staring at you.

“You must be cold,” he intones, stripping out of his plush robe – provided by your family, of course, so really it’s your robe. He’s nearly naked underneath, broad chest bared to the moonlight, bulge in his briefs at your eye level.

“I’m coldblooded. We’re all coldblooded. Haven’t you noticed?” Your voice holds a note of disdain – for him or your family, you’re not sure – but you take the robe from him and wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Oh birdie, you’re not coldblooded. Your family has been more than generous to me.” Ezra drifts closer to you and you almost unconsciously part your thighs.

“Sweet,” you whisper.

“No one has ever ventured so far as to call me sweet, little bird.” Ezra saunters away from you, turns his back on you, and it feels somehow like a loss.

“Real, then.”

Ezra hums, moves behind the bench you’re sitting on and lets your back press against his naked torso.

“You’re presumptuous,” you sneer, as if you hadn’t just been mourning the loss of his heat between your thighs.

Ezra’s hand threads into your hair and tilts your head back as he bends to whisper in your ear, “And you are adorned in a transparent night dress just outside my window.”

Your body shudders, in fear or arousal or both. “It’s– it’s my house. I can go wherever I want.” You try for defiant, but your voice shakes.

“Oh, okay. And your desires led you to be in a transparent nightdress just outside my window?” He straightens again and pulls your body back into his.

“I didn’t really think about it.”

“Just a masochist, then.” It’s not a question. He moves slowly, almost predatory, until he’s settled on his knees in front of you.

“Maybe,” you stare at the moon, refusing to look at him kneeling before you.

He sits up on his knees, pinches your chin in his fingers and forces you to look at him. “Oh birdie… I could just eat you.”

He grabs the hem of your nightdress and shoves it roughly up your thighs. You smack his hands, shoving the gown back over your legs. He pushes the hem up again, and you don’t stop him. Your hands grip the bench beside you.

“Ezra. It’s– it’s not– it’s not the right time of the month,” you plead with him halfheartedly. You don’t want him to stop now.

“Do you think that will hinder me?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs tightly. “How fortunate for you, birdie, that I am a vampire.”

The tip of his middle finger swipes through your folds. You gasp sharply, but his hand is gone as quickly as it came. He holds his fingers up in the scant space between your faces. You feel trapped in his gaze as the pink tip of his tongue flicks against his shiny red finger. He traces your bottom lip with it and your mouth falls open.

You’re trapped somewhere between disgust and awe. His finger plunders your mouth, smearing your own slick and blood on your tongue. His other hand snakes up your thigh, two fingers plunging into your slick heat while the fingers in your mouth hook your jaw. He shoves your head back until you’re looking directly above you, the robe falling from your shoulders.

You’re hooked on him at both ends, unable to pull away even a fraction. You gasp and moan around his digits, pressed so far back in your throat you’re almost gagging on them. His thick fingers feel perfect inside you, gliding easily through your slick and blood.

He drags your face to his, slotting your lips together. It’s not so much a kiss as Ezra trying to eat you alive. His right hand slips from your mouth and grips your hair. He drags your head backward even further, forcing your chest out and baring your throat to him. You are entirely at his mercy. His lips and teeth clatter down your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat, his teeth graze your collar bone, his lips close around your pulse point and he sucks hard enough to bruise.

He jerks your head back up to stare into his eyes once again. “You got a little something there,” he whispers, his thumb dragging over your bloodstained chin. He has a feral glint in his eye. He looks every bit like a wild animal barely contained in the body of a man, and he’s on his knees before you.

You almost laugh. Maybe you do laugh. He throws the hem of your nightgown over his head and buries his face between your thighs. He grips your hips tightly, pinning you to his face and keeping you from toppling completely off the bench.

His tongue curls languidly through your folds, as if he’s trying to collect every bit of you and swallow it down. You grab his head through the sheer fabric of your dress and let yourself fall into the sensation.

Two of his fingers slip easily into your cunt and his tongue finds your clit. He lathes your bud in steady circles, bringing you to the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly you see starbursts of color behind your lids. His fingers curl perfectly into your spongy walls and your eyes snap open as your body convulses in pleasure.

Ezra quickly replaces his fingers with his tongue, your core spasming around the wet muscle. His hand, shiny with your own blood, slithers up your body, smearing red on your nightdress. His face remains buried in your cunt as his hand finds it’s way to your mouth. You should push them away, but you let him press the pads of his fingers against your tongue, let him fill you up with his spit and your slick and your blood. Your lips close around his digits and you suck them clean.

He groans into your pussy before dragging his lips down your inner thigh. You can feel a wet trail where his mouth has been, skin tingling from his mustache. His teeth latch onto the sensitive flesh where your thigh meets your groin and you scream, the sound muffled by his fingers in your mouth. He almost certainly broke skin.

He releases your flesh only to bite down again, slightly lower. You bite down on his fingers in return, splitting open the skin of his knuckles. You smooth the bite with your tongue as he finally drags his hand out of your mouth.

Ezra places his left hand on the small of your back and brings his right back beneath your nightdress. You wish you could see more of him than the outline of his body between your thighs.

His lips close on your clit at the same time he buries his fingers inside you, your blood combining with his inside you. He pumps his fingers deep inside you, so hard it feels like he’s trying to scoop out your insides. His blunt nails catch your front wall and you try to squirm away from him, crying out at the sharp sensation. He clutches you closer to him, catches your clit in his teeth and smooths the pads of his fingers over your agonized cunt.

You are shockingly close to coming again, despite the pain radiating from your thigh. His tongue joins his fingers inside you and you bear down on him, his aquiline nose grinding into your clit. His nails dig into your back, pulling you even closer to his face, and you’re free falling.

You cry out into the wet night air, feeling at once scattered in the breeze and held entirely in the grip of the man still between your legs. He rises slowly, releasing you. You nearly fall backward without the support of his strong hands on your body. You cling to the bench, chest heaving, panting breaths puffing mist into the air between you.

The moonlight casts him in an eerie glow, but his face is almost entirely in shadow. He looks satisfied or disgusted, you can’t quite tell. He turns on his heel and saunters slowly back up the stairs, leaving you beneath his window.

#Ezra #Ezra fics #Ezra fanfiction #Ezra x reader #Ezra x you #Prospect fanfiction #Prospect (2018) fanfiction #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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burninlovebutler · 1 year

Text

Just an Intern // Part 3

pairing: austin x makeup artist!reader | word count: 8.7k-ish

warnings: angst, smut, FLUFF???, confusing arrogant asshole!austin, one bed, alcohol, hot tub 👀, fingering, play fighting, lots of dialogue, fries lore lol, truth or dare, name calling, physical altercation, yelling, screaming, crying, i am so sorry (but not really), 18+ MDNI

summary: while the set of Bikeriders remains buried under snow, you're imprisoned at the nearest ski lodge, in the last vacancy with none other than your arch nemesis. as the novelty of a packed resort wears off quickly, you find yourself on a drunken adventure led by an unexpected partner in crime... literally.

PART 1 | PART 2 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

vibes: just an intern spotify playlist ⛓️

Let's cause a little trouble Oh, you make me feel so weak I bet you kiss your knuckles Right before they touch my cheek

But I've got my mind, made up this time 'Cause there's a menace in my bed

Can you see his silhouette?

A glaring white morning light lulled you from your slumber. You were so warm and comfortable…. too warm and comfortable. Your eyes shot open and your body stilled completely the minute you sensed a heavy arm that was wrapped around your waist and a body pressed against your backside.

What the fuck

Last night’s events raced through your mind, remembering your transgressions with the actor vividly, but the end was quite fuzzy. All you remembered was going to shower then coming out to a completely dark room with Austin sleeping at the far edge of the twin sized bed, facing away from you. Then you slipped into bed, turned the opposite direction and fell asleep.

How the fuck did you end up being little spoon to the man that told you he’d rather rot in hell than sleep next to you. You stared at the wooden wall, following each swirl as if it would give you the answer to get out from this death trap of impending doom. You decided to take the plunge and try to slip from his grasp. A slight sleepy groan rumbled behind you made your eyes squeeze shut, like you were expecting a bomb to go off.

You knew exactly the song and dance it would ensue – some furious accusation and an insult.

Much to your surprise you felt him freeze just as you did then try to escape quietly. The realization hit that he perhaps didn’t know you were awake either. I mean realistically what would he reprimand you for? He was wrapped around you, what was he going to claim? That you forced him to play big spoon?

You chose to keep your place, taking advantage of the predisposition that you were still asleep. Besides it would give you just a sliver of peace before you had to go back to his ‘Intern’. There was a slight tug of sheets, then a cold emptiness when he pulled from the mattress.

He let out another hushed grunt then, “Fuck.” He mumbled to himself silently. You curiously opened one eye to observe him. He rounded the bed going to the dresser, tapping his fingertips across the top like he was looking for something. His hand landed on a pair of black rimmed glasses you hadn’t noticed when you went to bed in the dark. You couldn’t help but prop up a subtle brow.

Wanting to savor this little secret you stumbled upon, you decided to ‘wake up’ giving a performative stretch before cocooning yourself in the duvet. “Glasses huh?” You held back a ‘caught ya’ smirk, then a stifled giggle when you noticed him jump a tiny bit at the surprise.

He turned at the startle and instantly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been awake not even 5 minutes and he was already annoyed with you. “Yes, I wear glasses, big whoop.”

“Well, I just didn’t know.” You tugged your bottom lip in trying not to laugh at his obviously embarrassed reaction.

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Intern.” He spat back, turning to the phone ringing – to the tune of… Burnin Love? by Elvis? You were learning more about this man than you cared to know. He snatched his phone so fast, before it even got to the ‘hunka hunka’. Another thing he was clearly embarrassed about.

“What’s up?” While he spoke into the phone you found yourself distracted by the muscular lines of his bare back, just then noticing he was shirtless. His skin was golden and was toned like a swimmer. You followed the curvatures of his body down to were they met small dimples in his lower back then disappeared into blue stripped pajama pants.

His evidently aggravated groan snapped you out of your expedition down his body.

“Fucking great.” Bringing his hand to both temples. “We’re still fucking snowed in. We’re stuck here until tomorrow at least.”

Fuck

“I take it there are no other rooms available?”

“No Intern, obviously not, the roads are closed. Nobody can fucking leave.”

You both went your separate ways and you couldn’t have been happier, finally getting a moment to breathe and relax. There was a tiny café within the resort that you hid in most of the day taking time to catch up on the book you had been neglecting. The snow outside continued to pile up with no end in sight. Your odds of escaping Austin weren’t looking very promising. While it was what you wanted, there was a part of you – the machoistic part of you – that didn’t want it to end, just yet.

Before you knew it, it was evening and you were trying to avoid the hotel room at all costs, not wanting to risk running into Austin. So, you found yourself at the same bar from the Landon incident yesterday. You pressed your palms against the bar ledge that was littered with your coworkers, including Landon out of the corner of your eye. He sent a chill up your spine, but he seemed distracted by some giggly extra.

“Vodka soda please.” You ordered from the rather attractive bar tender. Maybe you could end up in someone else’s bed that night, maybe it would stave off the remnants Austin’s touch left on you. Regardless you had a mission - getting fucking wasted. How else were you supposed to deal with the confusion clouding in your head?

About 2 vodka sodas in, an aggravated sigh came from your left, “You would be here.” Said the exact voice you were trying to elude.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You rolled your eyes turning to him. He wore a plain black shirt that hugged his toned arms, tight dark denim jeans and leather boots.

He shrugged, “You just would.” Evading the question. “I guess I don’t blame you, there’s nothing else open in here at night.”

“Exactly.” You agreed taking a sip of your third drink, sending a warmth through your veins, then down to your core at the sight of his skilled fingers wrapped around a half-drank bourbon on the rocks.

“Last call!” Boomed from the tattooed bar tender.

“What?” You questioned, surprised. You tapped your phone screen to wake the time, “What, it’s only 12?”

“Bar closes at 12 on Sundays.” The worker informed, beginning his closing duties by wiping down the counter.

“Augh.” Austin groaned easily downing the remainder of his drink and harshly landed it on the bar. Without another word he was already out the door, likely at one of the cast’s room parties that had been going on.

You were in no rush to be alone in a hotel room but after a stroll through an uneventful empty lobby you decided to call it a night.

Opening the door to your room you noticed something that had been hiding behind a curtain, a wide open door. Being under the impression that the actor would be in some room party, you hesitantly tiptoed across the room. Your mind ping-ponged between the possibilities.

Maybe a resident had found the wrong room

Maybe you found the wrong room

Maybe the door hadn’t been locked and was swung open by the vicious snowy winds

Maybe it was a ghost

Finally at the door you peered through it from the edge to find… a hot tub? The jetted pool sat on a wooden platform covered by the room above’s balcony. And there sat the asshole right in the middle with another full drink in his grasp.

“Where have you been!” The blonde called out in a playful tune, the alcohol evidently taken over his body. “Did you know we have a hot tub?” His voice almost excited.

“Uh…” The entire scene threw you completely off, you’d never so much as seen this man smile and now, he was lightly playing in the water. “Am I hallucinating or are you actually having a good time?”

“C’mon get in here.” He gestured to join him hurriedly, ignoring your question.

“Austin it’s fucking freezing, you’re insane.” You thought he was even crazier when you realized that he was shirtless, because what else would you wear in a jacuzzi. “I’m not getting in there.” Shaking your head vehemently.

“It’s warm in here c’mon.” His gestures even more exaggerated through the steam that brewed above the water.

You shifted from one foot to another and chewed on your lip weighing your options. What else were you going to do? And who were you to turn down a hot tub?

“Augh fine.” You huffed, peeling your shirt over your head and unzipping then dropping your jeans. A blast of cold wind hit your bare body, covered only in a bra and panties. Your arms immediately wrapped around yourself shivering as you shuffled across the wood slats and up the short stairs.

You let out a relieved sigh once your shoulders were below the warm water across from him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

He gave you his signature eye roll, “Loosen up will ya? You’re always so stiff.”

You couldn’t help but let out loud scoff, “Me? Nah, that’s all you Actor.”

He let a chuckle as he lulled his head back, his arms resting on the edge of the tub. “Yeah, I guess I could stand to loosen up a little.”

“That’s a fucking understatement.” The edges of your lips tied into a smile.

“Hey,” He furrowed his thick brows at you, his face only illuminated by the blue tone of the pool. “That’s not very nice.” A light flick of water propelled at you from his fingertips.

“Hey!” You dodged the attack, “That wasn’t very nice.” Splashing warm water back at him.

“Oh, I don’t think you wanna play this game, Intern.” He brows propped up throwing another wave of water at you.

“Oh, I think I do Actor.” Swimming diagonal from him giving you a new angle to battle him with a rush of water.

He feigned surprise, “You’re goin’ down.” Mimicking your actions, getting you good that time, soaking you completely.

A giggle left your mouth as you attempted to swim in the opposite direction splashing him back once more. You heard another foreign laugh from him matching yours. “No, you’re goin’ down buddy.”

In some miscalculation you ended up near him and mid splashing war you felt familiar sizable hands take hold of your waist pulling you into his lap.

What kinda twilight zone were you in when this menace was play fighting and giggling with you?

After the initial stun of the move, you caught your breath your eyes meeting his. The ebbing waves from the tub reflected into his aqua eyes, the ripples of the water seemed to swim in them.

Silence fell between you both as the laughter had dissipated and the only communication was in your stare. You tried to place his thoughts by analyzing his eyes. At that point you had gotten fairly good at reading him though this sight was new, and you had no clue at what was behind it.

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, the proximity of him now very apparent. The scent of bourbon laid thick on his breath. Your own air lodged in your throat as you took in the sight of him. Under the glow of the moon, he looked so soft, a lens you’d never seen him through before. He was so exquisite like that - flushed rosy cheeks, drunken glossy eyes and all.

Your entire body froze when his lips met yours, his arms wrapping around your torso. Whether it was the alcohol, the moon or your genuine desire, something let yourself melt into it fully. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You expected him to escalate it with his tongue the way he did before, but he didn’t, his lips just took yours in completely.

You decided to take the plunge and slide your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance and he complied. His hands slid up your sides pulling you closer and your hands tangled into the little curls at the nape of his neck. The entire experience was different than any other time you’d hooked up with him, it mirrored his current demeanor – soft, gentle. He wasn’t groping and squeezing like he normally did, he just held you as your tongues danced together.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and found a not surprising prominent bulge beneath you. A groan rumbled in his chest when you pressed your panty-covered warmth against his boxer-covered erection.

As you grinded against him, the feeling of his tip nudging your bundle made you so desperate to relieve the rampant buzzing in your core. It was making you weak and was distracting you from the kiss. You reluctantly pulled from his soft lips and fell onto his shoulder letting out tiny whimpers as he rocked his hips against you.

He pressed full kisses in the curvature of your neck causing a churning in your tummy that wasn’t arousal, but something different. Something familiar but you couldn’t quite place. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice deep and dripping in liquor.

A short breathy whimper involuntarily escaped you, “You think so?” Your inner voice taking no time in reprimanding you for seeking validation from such a douchebag. His names for you weren’t normally so kind, nevertheless a compliment.

“Mhm,” He hummed against your shoulder, his hand tangling in your hair as he peppered kisses across your skin. “The prettiest.” He whispered below your ear, unleashing a kaleidoscope of butterflies throughout your chest, your ribcage locking them in. You knew it was the alcohol talking but you clung to every word.

You were so needy for him that only small moans left your mouth, “Please Austin, I need your cock.” You breathed out, your heart beating so hard you thought it might pop out. Your hips rutted against his length the wet material of your panties allowing your lips to part around his shaft, teasing him with your entrance. “Please?” Exaggerating your whine.

He groaned at your actions, fingers harshly digging into your thighs. “No.” He said simply, his touch now gliding up your thighs, “Let me take care of you.”

His response took you by surprise, “W-what?” You stuttered but didn’t pull from him. A hand drew up your inner thigh, scorching the skin it passed, then fingers up your panties.

“Let me take care of you baby.” He repeated, his fingertips easily pulling your panties to the side and rolled the pads of his fingers around your clit. A gasp left your lips at the sudden pleasure.

“Fuck.” You faintly muttered against his neck and leaned into his touch. “Please. I need you.” Your right hand tugging at his hair and the left curling into his shoulder.

“I wanna try something, do you trust me?” He asked, the question throwing you off, both at what he could possibly be thinking and whether you knew the answer. It occurred to you that it was the second time he’d asked you that impossible question, the first time in the saloon on set. You wondered on what planet he was living on where he had given you any reason to trust him. If anything, he should be the last person on earth to trust. And yet, you lied, “Hm- Yes.” Curious to find out his idea.

He purred against your shoulder and gently lifted your hips off of him then placed you across his lap. With one hand he slid your panties down your legs and draped it over the edge of the pool. You held onto him by an arm around his neck as his hand slid up your thighs again and spread them wide.

The pads of his fingers once again found your core, rounding your swollen nub then down dipping into your entrance. “Fuck.” You breathed out as his digits curled into your sweet spot. You let him float you to the edge of the tub, it was unclear to you why until you felt the strong stream of water from one of the jets. A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the immediate pressure.

“Oh my god,” Your chest was heaving, and your nails dug into his back. While the jet took care of your clit, his fingers were taking care of your core, fucking you in a way you never thought fingers could. It was rhythmic like a choreographed dance, every pump into your pussy landed in a curl into your g-spot and you never knew you could feel so much pleasure from so many areas at once. Your heart was thumping in your throat with a tight knot in your stomach threatening you to unravel already. “Oh my god Austin.”

“I know baby, I know.” He continued his plight on your neck, trailing passionate kisses all over it. “Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah- Fuck.” You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. His little experiment with you was overriding every nerve, waves of tingling pleasure washing through you, even causing your toes to curl. “Fuck Aus, I’m close I’m so fucking close.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut barely holding on to your sanity. The bliss was practically numbing your brain, every thought was him, only him. His eyes that could make you wet with just one look, his plump lips that stamped kisses all over you, his skilled tongue against your own and even better on your clit, the curve of his neck and collar bone where you’d place your own kisses, his agile hips that allowed him to drill his perfect fucking cock into you. Right then you could’ve sworn he was some Greek god from the insurmountable euphoria that possessed your body.

His mouth pulled your skin into a suck while his tongue swirled over the darkening spot. “Let it out baby c’mon, cum for me.” His deep voice rumbled against your neck. That and a perfectly synchronized hit of the jet stream on your throbbing bundle and his fingers curved into you, set off your climax. The height of your orgasm ripped through you so violently that your moans were completely silent – which you we’re grateful for because you knew your coworkers were just above you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and your thighs clamped around his hand and you heard him let out a sort of entertained chuckle. If you weren’t underwater your juices most definitely would’ve soaked his thigh completely.

Once fully spent, you fell limp on his chest, heavy breaths flowing into his neck, “Fuck.” You murmured. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The act was so intimate compared to… well any other interaction you’d had with him. He was always so cold and rigid, now he was tender and warm. You blinked up at him, his focus on the stars above you. Even his moonlit features were soft compared to his normal sharp edges. “You sure like to use water fixtures as sex toys huh.” You tugged a lip between your teeth hoping the joke would land.

He took a moment to respond, his brows scrunching together before looking down at you, “Huh?”

You let out a tiny giggle, “Because the faucet on set-“

“Oh oh, yeah!” He boomed a drunken laugh straight from deep in his chest, “Yeah, I guess I do.” Looking down at you, for a moment you couldn’t tell the difference between the stary midnight sky behind him and the twinkling navy in his eyes. “Did you not like it? Because it seemed like you did-“ His voice sounded almost insecure, as if he was worried about disappointing you. The hint of insecurity echoed the one from earlier in the hotel room, about his glasses.

“No, no I definitely do.” You laughed, pulling yourself up to wrap both arms around his neck, straddling him once again. “I’ve just never been with someone so… innovative.” Your lips pressed together to stifle a chuckle.

The joke earned you another hearty laugh from the glowing blonde, which made you realize you’d barely heard him laugh before, nonetheless smile. And right now, he was a grinning mess, and he hadn’t even cum. From the lack of stiffness beneath you it seemed that the alcohol had taken its toll. Under any other circumstances, if there was a more competitive game at play, you would’ve tried your hardest to return the favor. But he was giggly and touchy and the nicest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t want to cut it short, so you laid against his shoulder again just taking in his breathing.

“You’re pretty funny.” He said once he caught his breath from laughing.

“Yeah?” You blushed and a giant grin pulled at your lip’s edges, for some reason you felt embarrassed and hid further into his neck. “I’m glad you think so.” You whispered beneath his ear and molded your body further around his, taking advantage of his warmth. He reciprocated, wrapping you up in his arms.

Silence fell for what felt like an eternity and you thought for sure the moment was about to end, and this unicorn version of asshole actor would disappear. But he surprised you yet again.

“I’m hungry.” He stated simply, “I want fries.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “What?”

“I want fries!” He repeated, matter-of-factly. “We should go get fries.”

“Austin, where the fuck are we gonna get fries? The kitchens are closed and it’s not like we can DoorDash in a snowstorm.” You stated the obvious, sitting up in his lap.

You watched the gears churning in his head as if it was a difficult equation before the most mischievous playful smirk spread across his face. Immediately you knew it couldn’t mean anything good. “Austin,” You warned, propping up a cautious eyebrow, “What are you thinking.”

He practically threw you off of him, landing you to be floating alone in what now seemed like a giant empty ocean without him in it. He scrambled quickly into the hotel room, dripping water across the carpet, only in some plaid boxers. Once the blur of the action caught up to you, you followed suit, nearly flying out of the tub into the freezing cold air. “What are you doing!” You called after him as he hastily dried off with a towel and changed into sweats and a hoodie faster than you’d ever seen anyone move.

The mischievous smile never left his face in his hurried actions and stayed focused on his mission. In that moment you realized you were now babysitting a drunken toddler. Like any good caretaker, you matched his speed but soon remembered your limited wardrobe choices. He was already halfway out the door and the only reasonably warm and accessible choices were another hoodie and pair of sweats from his duffle.

“Austin!” You first shouted loudly after him, stumbling out the door trying to slide fully into your sneakers. Then in a more hushed yell, not wanting to wake the entire lodge at 2 am. “Where are you going!”

“Fries!” He threw over his shoulder as he booked it down the stairs.

“Hey! Slow down!” Taking a moment to catch your breath before following him down the two flights of mahogany stairs. “You couldn’t have taken the elevator at least?”

Finally, you caught up to him, standing in front of the restaurant that hosted the rotating buffet during the day. You leaned over attempting to catch your breath gripping your chest, reminding you that maybe a weekly gym day wouldn’t hurt. “They’re clearly closed Aus.” You huffed out, gesturing your arm at the darkened restaurant. The way it was laid out was that the floor was open so the buffet serving areas and seating were open, but the kitchen was locked. He was bent over eyeing the lock. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Hmmm.” He hummed and stood up to face you, he held his tongue between his lips as he seemed to analyze you, then reached into your damp hair and plucked out a bobby pin you had forgotten was in there. He went back to his crouched position, unfolding the metal accessory in his sizable hands.

“No no no.” You whispered, “Austin you’re gonna get us in trouble what are you doing!”

“I’m opening a door that we found, already open y/n, obviously.” He slid the pin into the keyhole and wiggled it around.

“Oh god you’re really doing this aren’t you.” You brought a hand to your temple.

It didn’t take long for the doorknob to click open, probably because the hotel didn’t think patrons would be breaking in. “Aha!” He proclaimed, flinging the door open and turning on the blinding overhead lights. Relief washed over you when you didn’t hear immediate alarms blaring.

“I fucking can’t believe you’re doing this.” You exasperated, dropping your arms at your sides, “You know there aren’t going to be just magically fresh fries right?”

“Relax Intern,” His mission stayed focused on pillaging the stainless-steel industrial kitchen for his desired snack. “I know what I’m doing.” Waving you off.

“Oh,” You placed both hands on your hips, “You break into kitchens often?”

He shot you an unimpressed look, “No, if you must know,” He somehow miraculously found the frozen fries. “I used to work in a kitchen, I know how to make some pretty fuckin’ dope fries.” He inspected the knobs of the deep fryer and clicked it to a high setting.

“Oh, you mean before you were just an actor?” You sassed, crossing your arms across your chest and popping out a hip.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Believe it or not I was once a struggling actor.” The fries sizzled in the oil when he dunked an obscene amount of into the appliance.

“Ah, I see the humbleness didn’t stick around.” You teased back, walking over to the wall and flipped off 3/4ths of the blinding fluorescent lights, leaving only the one’s above the counters.

He shot you another glare, “Keep talkin’ like that and ya aren’t gonna get any fries.”

You contemplated continuing your defiance but ultimately decided the midnight snack was more important. They were already in the fryer after all, might as well follow through.

He drew the fries from the oil, threw them into a giant silver bowl, and salted them like a pro, tossing them in the air and everything.

You ended up on the floor of the dark kitchen, sat across from him binging on the perfectly golden fries and a random wine bottle you’d found. For someone who was evidently wasted, they were beyond impressive. “Damn, you weren’t lying, these are so fucking good.” You complimented then shoved a handful of salty fries into your mouth. On a first date, you’d never eat like that in front of anyone, but this wasn’t a first date, this was a drunken adventure with an asshole.

“I told you.” He went for another fistful of salted potatoes. “I was the best damn line cook that surf and turf place had ever seen.” He sassed, waving a fry for extra attitude.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “You so would work at a surf and turf restaurant.”

He feigned insult with a dropped jaw, “What is that supposed to mean!”

You giggled and shrugged, taking a sip from the wine bottle. “You just give that typa vibe.” You teased, covering your mouth to hide the chuckle that threatened to erupt.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” He picked up a fry and tossing it at you. He shot a smirk at you then stole the wine bottle, taking a long swig. His plump lips molded around the bottle opening, his adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.

You gasped, “You’re not very nice.” You plucked a fry from the heap and hurled it back at him. His gaze turned to a playful one, moving slowly to the bowl scooping a bundle of fries and heaving them at you.

“You’re a fucking child you know that?” Your tone serious but gasping an equal bit of fries while he was focused on your expression, throwing it right back at him. First the water fight and now this? Who the fuck abducted Actor and who was sitting across from you?

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He sat up on his knees, taking a fistful of your improvised dinner and aimed a bit too close to your face. Your hands immediately covered your eyes, “Ow!” You whined, sitting back on your legs, “You hit my eye!”

Instantly you heard him move the bowl and wine out of the way to cross the gap between you. “Oh my god I’m so sorry.” The hands that normally had been so rough on you, now delicately holding onto your wrists.

“It really hurts.” You whimpered, not moving your hands from your face.

“I didn’t mean to y/n, I swear.” He said softly then gently tugging at your hands. “C’mon let me see, we can wash out your eyes or something.”

A mischievous smirk spread across your lips beneath your hands, taking the fries that landed on you and smushing them into his chest. “Ha! I gotcha!”

Utter shock softened his face once he realized he’d been played. “That’s not fucking funny, I thought I- that I had-“ He struggled to find his words amidst the swirl of competitiveness and deception. It seemed as though his thoughts had halted as he watched your expression. The silence bounding around the industrial kitchen was haunting, unsure as to whether he was actually upset or if he would counter your move.

While you were attempting to decipher his motives, he abruptly took your cheeks into his large hands and pulled you into a kiss. The way his lips felt pressed against yours sent flutters down into your tummy, but they were different than the usual flurries of desire he gave you, these almost made you sick.

It took no time for your own hands to find a home tangled his hair. He inched forward indicating that he wanted you to lay back and you obeyed the silent request, slowly leaning back to land flat against the thankfully freshly mopped floor.

The kiss was tender, not hungry or ravenous, not even pushing to enter your mouth. In that moment, he wasn’t looking for anything more than that.

Your lips stayed locked for what seemed like a lifetime. A part of you almost grew uncomfortable at the intimacy, reflexively wanting to deepen the kiss. That’s all he’d ever wanted before after all, wasn’t it? You’d never had just a kiss before, with no ulterior motives. Why would he?

So, you wanted to fast forward to the part you knew was coming, not wanting to linger in a meaningless moment longer than necessary. You couldn’t afford to hold onto a fantasy, nor did you want to. But every muscle in your body ceased to function. His hands held your face and drew the pads of his thumbs across your cheekbones gently while your fingers traveled through his hair like a maze.

He was the exactly that - a maze, a human embodiment of one. You followed each path of his thinking you figured the way out, only to find you had no idea what you were doing or where you were going. You were trapped within an impossible labyrinth you never meant to enter.

His lips struggled to demagnetize from yours and hovered above your face. His navy eyes swirled reluctance, seemingly lost in some maze of his own. “I uh-“ He sat back on his legs, scratching the back of his head and eyes diverting from you. “We should probably head back to the room.”

And just like that, you reached another dead end in his labyrinth.

When you woke the next morning, the bed was empty. At first it took you by surprise, then a pit formed in your stomach. It was naïve of you to think that your drunken adventures with a rare Austin would change anything, foolish to think that version of him would stick around in the sober daylight. You wanted so badly to believe that wasn’t the truth, but you knew it was.

It dawned on you, why did that pit even form? This was the shithead that tormented you at work, treated you like shit and called you insufferable. In what twisted reality should you be sad that the illusion of a decent human fueled by alcohol didn’t stay for breakfast. At what point did you decide you wanted that version of him to stay? That’s not really what you want, was it? Of course not.

You brought your palms and pressed them into your eyes in a feeble attempt to clear out the thoughts swirling in your head. In a swift fling of the thick bedding, you unglued yourself from the bed, shuffling over to the window to check on the snow status. Thick snow still coated every surface, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before, which meant that you’d probably be freed from this prison in the next day or two.

“Thank fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, instinctively tucking your arms into your sides when you felt a chill. It was only then that you realized that you were still wearing his clothes. For whatever reason, you did a quick scan of the room as if someone would see you pulling up the collar of the hoodie taking an inhale. It smelled like him mingled with his cologne, a woodsy musk. You mentally scolded yourself when the tinge of longing filled your chest. Why the fuck would you miss him?

Then the memory of you sitting with him on the kitchen floor flashed across your mind pulling a giddy grin across your lips. “Fucking stop it.” Smacking your palm into your forehead. You shook your head trying to shake out whatever fucked up disease had taken over your mind, that was the only explanation for what you were feeling. The best way you could think of trying to remedy this ailment of yours was to take a long, hot shower. Maybe it’d wash it all away.

Once in the bathroom you let out a groan when you noticed all the towels were used and thrown about. “Fucking men.”

You headed down to the lobby and got the attention of a clerk. “Hi sorry to bother you but could I possibly get some more towels?”

“Sure of course! It’s no bother sweetie.” The middle-aged attendant sweetly smiled before heading into the back office.

She returned with a tower of fresh white towels. “There you go hon.” Placing them on the granite counter in front of you, “Your boyfriend use ‘em all?” She questioned in a joking tone.

You reflexively scoffed, “He’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Hm.” She pressed her lips together as if she had more to say but didn’t want to divulge.

“What?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well it’s just- well I remembered you both from the night the snowstorm first hit so-“ She seemed to be trying to piece together some pieces of a puzzle in her head.

“…Mhm?” You urged on curious as to where this could possibly be going.

“So, when we had a vacancy open up yesterday, we called and asked him if he wanted to take it.” You knitted your brows together as you now tried to piece together the puzzle. “And well… he declined. So, I just assumed…”

“He turned down a room to himself?” You repeated for clarification, which was met with a timid nod, obviously feeling guilty for sharing personal information. “I uh, I have to go.” You stated shortly, snatching the tower of towels, “Thank you so much!” You thanked while you quickly made it back to the room.

After your much needed long, hot shower you decided to roam the all-inclusive resort. The only perk of being there was that there was decent amount of things to do during the day. From bars to in house casinos, arcades, spas, even a bowling alley. While you told yourself it was because you were bored, in the pit of your tummy there was a part of you that hoped you’d bump into your…enemy?

You wandered around the wooden halls of the resort with a pamphlet of all your options. Each corridor, room and lobby were decorated in typical lodge décor, animal heads on the wall, buffalo print everything, luxurious fireplaces. Everything except the deer heads was stunning, if you visited under different circumstances the mini vacation would’ve been a tranquil little getaway.

Since Austin supposedly hated you, Landon was a creep and Tom had his own friend group, you were alone. There was a door at the very end of the hallway that intrigued you. Once you peered in you saw a much cozier den-style bar, a huge square sectional couch facing a stone fireplace. On the opposite a very quaint bar. As you scanned the room for possible acquaintances you landed on a group of familiar faces.

“Y/N!” Called Tom, “You’re just in time. We’re just about to play truth or dare!”

What we were in 6th grade?

You locked eyes with your resident tormentor, because of course he’d be there. There was a split second where you thought things would be different after last night but when he gave you a warning look to decline the game offer, you knew it was a pipe dream. That gentle, playful man from the hot tub and the kitchen was gone, just like that. Then, the hatred you’d always felt before piped back into you, like a coffee pot filling with molten hot caffeine. Keeping eye contact with him the edges of your lips curled into a cocky smile, “Sounds great.” You sauntered over to the place next to Tom that faced opposite of Austin.

A few rounds of the game ensued, nothing too juicy at first but the game soon heated up when the group had downed a fair number of drinks. It was a stagehand’s turn to dare Austin. The brunette male, who had been working near many of your interactions together, gave him a playful smirk, “I dare you…” His eyes landed on you, “To make out with y/n.”

How fucking juvenile

You weren’t sure why the absolute jarring panic settled into your stomach, but Austin’s expression of immediate disgust didn’t help.

“I’m not doing that.” He said sternly, his tone oddly irritated.

“Oh, c’mon dude, it’s just a kiss.” The stagehand, Ryan, prodded jokingly.

“No. I’m not fucking doing it, give me a truth.” His brows low and knitted, eyes dark and mean.

“Fine.” Ryan, clearly annoyed and drunk, matched his unnecessarily angry tone, “Have you fucked the intern?” The question hushed every person around the fireplace, an uneasy tension filled in the air.

Blood rushed to Austin’s face and a vein pulsed in his forehead. He was trying to restrain his anger, squeezing his fists to stave it off. Your own steaming coffee pot was on the verge of overflowing.

Whether it was the tequila or something else that fueled you was unclear but you balled up your own fists, and before you could stop yourself, the words flew out, “I’m not a fucking intern!” You boomed out louder than intended and shooting you straight up on your feet.

Austin rolled his eyes, sharply pushing off from the couch, “I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He scoffed, headed for the doorway.

“Answer the question you fuckin’ pussy!” Called a way too far gone Ryan. “We already know the answer.” He added in a cocky snide.

Any sinister look you’d ever seen on Austin didn’t compare to the one that bore into Ryan. You were surprised his fist wasn’t bashed into his face already, if there weren’t so many witnesses he probably would’ve been pummeled to a mush.

“Let’s get this fucking straight.” He hissed, his eyes locked on Ryan, never once glancing at you, like you weren’t even in the room. “I have never and will never put my hands on such a low budget, low level, filthy whore nobody of an Intern.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, a consequential dagger speared right through your intestines. You knew he hated you, he called you insufferable. You knew he hated you, you knew it even after last night, but you never expected him to say such vile words about you. A lump formed in your throat and tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry there – not in front of all your coworkers, not after being completely and utterly humiliated. Every ounce of alcohol in your bloodstream fueled your stomp over to him and didn’t even realize what you had done until you felt your palm stinging like a bitch from landing on his face. His hand instantly reaching to cover his newly red cheek from your slap, his eyes wide in disbelief, then narrowed with furious realization.

“Fuck you,” You attempted to hide the quiver in your voice, “You fucking rotten, disgusting, repulsive human being.” Your teeth clenched, you knew your little outburst could very well get you fired but there was too much rage and liquor in your body to care.

He did nothing, not a brow raise, not a twist in his face, nothing. Perhaps he’d never had someone talk back to him like that. Without further explanation he just pushed past you, knocking your shoulder back with his weight. The gravity of what just happened settled into your chest, having such a cruel intimate moment in front of all your colleagues was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. Something you’d never be able to forget, something you could never forgive. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt all eyes on you and your heart began to race feeling the purest form of ‘flight’ mode you’d ever had in your life.

When you escaped there was no sign of Austin in sight. You knew he had to have gone back to the room, hopefully to pack his shit and leave. And if he wasn’t then you would, even if you had to beg to stay in someone’s room. All the way up the elevator your heart thumped against your rib cage, shaking out your hands and taking deep breaths mentally preparing yourself for confrontation.

You unlocked the door and found him standing there, looking like he got there just before you did. The anxiety of the confrontation dissipated the moment you laid eyes on his hardened face. “Get out.” You stated harshly, brushing past him yourself mimicking his actions from before.

“Intern there’s nowhere for me to fucking go.” His voice already raised and ready for battle, “I’m not fucking happy about it either but-“

Your brows scrunched together downwards, steam practically pouring from your ears. “You’re a liar! A filthy fucking liar! Get. Out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not lying-“ He began but his incessant voice was driving you more livid by the minute.

“I know about the fucking vacant room Austin.” You growled, using his name and not Actor to let him know how serious you were. Just from how he opened his mouth to speak you could tell he was about to lie again so you beat him to it. “The front desk lady told me. Tell me Austin, if you hate me so goddamn much then why didn’t you just take the room? To fuck with me? To take me on some stupid drunken adventure to trick me into thinking you actually have a heart?”

He stayed silent, which only made you angrier. You just called him out on his bullshit, and he couldn’t even react. “Actually no, you know what? I’m the fucking liar. Because out there I called you a human being, but you’re too fucked up to be a human, you’re a fucking cockroach – I try to stomp you out but you keep fucking coming back.” When the words left there was an immediate sense of release, everything that had built up in your system spilled out.

“Oh, I’m a cockroach? If I’m such a cockroach, then why do you keep coming back for more huh?” He hissed, his arrogant scrunched face pissed you off even more. He had no right to talk to you like that after what he did. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was making you cum.” Purposely using jarring sexual defenses to hurt you.

You thought lava was about to start seeping through your skin, what made it worse was that you didn’t have an answer. “Augh!” You grunted, pacing in a short lap, your fingers curling around air. “You are so fucking infuriatingly heartless it’s nauseating!”

He scoffed, “Well, I may be heartless, but you’re fucking naïve.” He snarled. “Naïve to think I would ever actually enjoy your company outside of your body.”

Your jaw dropped, tears pricked your eyes again realizing how senseless you were to have thought he was anything else but the arrogant, cruel man you met that first day on set. The building rage turned your tears into a terrifying laugh, “Oh, my body huh? That’s funny because out there you said you’d never touch me, when in there” Pointing to the back door leading to the hot tub, “You touched me with nothing in return for you. You were the one who wanted to ‘take care of me’, you held me, you called me pretty!” The ending sounding so pathetic, instantly regretting the vulnerability knowing it would be used as ammo.

He cackled, “Oh c’mon Intern you can’t be serious, nobody ever taught you not to believe the things men say when they’re drunk? It didn’t mean anything, I was drunk, I lied.”

The words sliced like blades and every ounce of restraint drained from your body. “You are by far the worst person I’ve ever had the disgrace of knowing. I wish I never fucking met you. If I could go back in time, I would turn down my apprenticeship. My apprenticeship, because I’m not and have never been a fucking intern!” Your voice raised into a yell, “I would throw away my entire career if it meant I could avoid ever crossing paths with you.”

A few moments passed and he was still there, silent and blank. You couldn’t read him at all, if he was angry or sad or insulted. He could’ve easily turned it on you, but he didn’t. He just stared at you.

Everything from the first day on set to the day of the snowstorm, yesterday and everything in between, compounded in your mind. Every insult, every backhanded comment, every accusation replayed in your head. No one had ever made you feel as low and as shitty as he did. The lump from before reclaimed its place in your throat and tears began to pool in your eyes, finally needing real answers. “Why do you treat me like this huh? Why do you say the horrible things you say to me? Call me all the vile names you do? What did I ever fucking do to you?” While you were holding back tears your voice remained furious and combative. “Why do you fucking hate me!”

His brows furrowed and his sharp jaw noticeably clenched, “You’re just fucking infuriating and annoying and it- it just drives me fucking insane!”

“What does! What the fuck do I do that bothers you so fucking much!” You nearly screamed out.

“You- just-“ He was grasping at straws, “No matter how much I try to hate you I fucking can’t!” His words darted from his tongue faster than he had time to process. His widened eyes gave away how much he regretted his slip up.

“W-What?” You stuttered out confused, that being the last thing you expected him to say. The rapid thumping of your heart accelerated, allowing only short breaths and you even felt a little lightheaded. You were overloaded, angry, confused, hurt, heartbroken, embarrassed. The small bit of control you had left was gone and the tears made their full appearance.

The minute he noticed the tears streaming down your face, Austin’s twisted face softened right before your eyes, even softer than the night before. “I-“ He stepped towards you but you immediately winced and recoiled from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You cried out wiping the tears from your face in an attempt to halt them.

In true Austin fashion, he didn’t listen, and his hands found your own on your cheeks. In an even stranger turn of events, he leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips. Then he gently pulled your hands from your face, you looked up at him with watery puzzled eyes. You instinctively smacked his arm to push him away, but his strong arm didn’t budge.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and placed a tender kiss under each stream of tears. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly after each kiss. Every single action he did was like a twisted turn on rickety rollercoaster ride. He returned to your lips, pressed another kiss followed with, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, an extra pillowy light kiss, “I’m sorry.” He repeated, another kiss, another apology. He trailed his lips down to just below your ear, stamping additional kiss there, “I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed another sloppy kiss below your ear, “I’m sorry.” No matter how furious you were didn’t stop the butterflies in your tummy. A longer, sloppier kiss further down your neck with a raspy, “I’m sorry.” Sent a buzzing through your chest and directly to your hips.

Maybe it was the same for you, no matter what horrible things he did or said to you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you hated him, you couldn’t. Maybe you were just as fucked up as he was.

“I’m sorry, let me show you how much.” He muttered against your skin, his fingers delicately smoothing down your sides like he was plucking a harp.

The shift from abhorrent to sweet gave you whiplash, not knowing which one was genuine. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing any tears out, the salty liquid dripping off your chin. “Austin, I can’t.” You breathed out, the panic attack-like heaving never left. “Austin, you literally just humiliated me in front of everyone. You called me a filthy whore nobody, in front of everyone.” Reluctantly pulling from his grasp. His once venomous eyes now soft and apologetic, but that’s exactly what he did wasn’t it? He’d wrap you back in his hold like prey, constrict you until you were blue in the face, still hypnotizing you with snake eyes. You were a rat and he a cobra trapped in a 10 gallon tank, and he was still convincing you that he wasn’t trying to consume you whole. “I just can’t. I just- I respect myself too much. And I need you to go. I need to be alone.”

He stepped towards you once more, his fingertips ran down the back of your arms reaching your hands, taking them tenderly into his. “I’m so sorry y/n. I won’t do it again. I promise.” He bargained in a tone so quiet you’d think he was paranoid of people hearing him from behind the walls. “I’ll never talk like that ever, ever again.”

“Austin, I don’t know what you want from me.” You slipped from his hands, “But there won’t be another ‘again’. You were right the other day on set, this shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice cracked, “I need you to leave. Now.”

His look faltered, a look you’d only ever seen on the faces of defeated Olympians. “Okay.” He said lowly, stepping forward and cupping your face then pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His misty blue eyes looked down at you, “If you ever wanna cash in that apology, you know where to find me.”

Without another word he gathered his things and left to find the other room. The minute he was out the door, every emotion you had suppressed from the event took over. You doubled over gripping onto your stomach as you heaved, rivers of tears pouring from your eyes. Tight twists and knots wrapped around your abdomen, constricting you like the snake he was.

You stumbled to the bed and fell in it, wrapping the sheets around you and like a 15-year-old with their first heartbreak, you wailed into the pillow. You never felt so worthless, so pathetic, so stupid. You were so fucking stupid for letting him slither his way into you the way he did. How could anyone talk about someone like that? Someone who just last night was so sweet and gentle with you. Someone who said they didn’t mean any of it but then wanted to apologize so tenderly?

It made you sick to think how you let such evil into your body. You weren’t even able to say that you missed the red flags, you didn’t, you saw them clearly and raced past them. He showed you exactly who he was, and still let yourself believe he was something he wasn’t.

Yeah, your house was now haunted, but you were the one who invited the demon in.

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@soundslikediamonds @someonedateme @bxxbxy @xmusse @kingdomforapony @galaxygirl453 @marlowmode @oldermenluverrr @saesire @thatbanditqueen @ariana-c-c @dellibean @verstappenmax1 @melodysfilms @mazzystarwhor3 @angiedawn02 @kpres2875 @dylanobandposts21 @tommydarlings @inner-monologue @samfangirls @elvispresleyisfit12 @guacala @xstrengthxinxtragedyx 💓

If you'd like to be tagged in a potential Part 4 please comment 💗

author notes:

thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx

if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

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lilithlinen · 2 months

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Challenge Accepted - Young Keanu x You

Requested by: Anon. I hope you like it, cookie❤️

Note: Keanu is 25 in this one and you both just got married a few weeks ago so bear with me🙉

Plot: Keanu and you continued your intimate activities after returning home from your honeymoon. Keanu proposed a challenge, suggesting that you engage in continuous love-making for extended periods.

As you exited the airport, fans and paparazzi were waiting for you both, their cameras flashing furiously. Keanu led you through the crowd, shielding you from the barrage of lights, but not before stopping to take a few pictures with his eager fans.

At home, you were greeted by your friends and family, who had come to celebrate your return. There was laughter, champagne, and love everywhere. Keanu's eyes locked with yours, and his heart swelled with happiness.

"This is home," he whispered, his hand brushing your cheek.

You laughed, danced, and enjoyed the company of your loved ones, celebrating your new life together. And as the night wore on, you danced to your favorite song, entwined in each other's arms, ready for the future ahead. Later that night when you and Keanu retired to your room, an idea crossed Keanu's mind, he grinned mischievously before patting your shoulder lightly. "Love?"

You looked at him as you put on your night gown. "Hmm? Yes, love?"

Keanu looked at you, his eyes lit with mischief. "Since we've just returned from a tropical paradise and had a great time, why don't we bring some of the island vibes to our bedroom?" he suggested, his voice low and sultry.

He didn't even give you a chance to respond, he disappeared downstairs for a few minutes and then came back with a tray full of coconuts, pineapples, and some exotic fruits, along with some snacks if possible.

You couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. "Hey, I'm trying to be nice here." He said with a slight grin on his face.

You kissed his cheek and smiled. "I know and I appreciate it. Thank you."

You both decided to eat in bed, the candles flickering softly, setting the mood. Keanu cuddled you close, feeding you pieces of fruits and chocolate-covered strawberries. Soon enough, he began undoing your nightgown, his fingers trembling with desire. "I think it's time for dessert," he whispered, his eyes locked on yours.

His grin grew wider before adding, "And a challenge if you're up for it...?" He looked into your eyes searchingly

You gaze up at him giggling. "What's on your mind, silly?" You ask as you tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear.

Keanu's eyes gleamed with desire and mischief. "How about a game?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. "One where we will make love for as long as we can, for hours or even.... days."

Your eyes widened at his words. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

He chuckled wickedly; his eyes locked on yours. "Very serious," he replied, his voice low and seductive. "Who wouldn't want to keep making love to you all night?"

You bit your lip, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "Alright, Mr. Reeves, you're on," you teased, your eyes filled with challenge and lust.

You both stripped down naked, your bodies glowing under candlelight. Keanu's gaze lingered hungrily on your body, his cock standing erect and ready for action.

"Remember, we stop only when neither of us can continue," he said, his voice low and throaty. "Whoever lasts longer wins. Are you ready?"

You nodded; your eyes locked on his. "Ready when you are, handsome."

Keanu grinned deviously; he placed a hand on your knee, gently guiding your leg up and opening your pussy wide. This would be no ordinary fucking - this would be a test of endurance! Right away, he plunged two fingers into your dripping pussy, pumping you hard and fast. The first round went to Keanu, coming powerfully inside you as you cried out. Your own orgasm came shortly after, flooding his fingers with your juices. You were off to a great start.

Days passed, and so did positions, licking and sucking, every place imaginable was hit. An hour of sixty-nine sucked your clit raw, practically begging for relief. But just when you thought you'd reach the limits of human stamina, Keanu changed things up again. Sweat pooled between your breasts while you rode him relentlessly, your inner walls gripping his length without mercy.

Suddenly, Keanu stopped, collapsing on the bed panting, out of breath. Could it be it? Were you both defeated already? "No way!" You spat.

Your determination fueled you as you continued your assault, craving victory in this marathon. Grabbing his semi-hard cock, you mounted it, grinding your clit against him. Desperate now, Keanu took control, pinning you down onto the bed. He thrust into you ferociously, his cock deep inside, your walls pulsating with every thrust. "Fuck, baby, I'm... gonna... oh fuck..." he murmured, nearing climax.

But a final surge summoned his strength, he flipped you onto all fours, slamming into you from behind. "You're mine!" he groaned between gritted teeth. Clenching his jaw, Keanu fought his orgasm, promising himself that he wouldn't give in. This could only mean one thing...

"Oh God, fucking yes!" you screamed with renewed vigor. Just as Keanu thought it was over, you unleashed your orgasm. Torrents of pleasure cascaded throughout your body, leaving Keanu gasping with surprise... until a sudden realization dawned upon him. 👀

Keanu's eyes widened with shock, his mind racing. "Wait, we didn't specify a winner," he whispered hoarsely, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Before you could protest, Keanu commanded, "Continue riding me until you can't anymore," smirking devilishly.

You stared at him, eyes wide with a mix of lust and frustration. With a sigh, you complied, mounting him again and riding him like a pro. He slapped your ass to further motivate you, urging you closer to ecstasy. Keanu bucked his hips mercilessly, going harder and faster.

Despite his best efforts to delay orgasm, Keanu's face twisted in agony. "I'm...close...don't stop!" he growled, nearly coming in a desperate attempt to prolong the race. However, he managed to pull through, maintaining the power struggle until you collapsed, utterly exhausted, in his arms, and he won.

As you collapsed, panting heavily, Keanu pulled out, spurting semen across your butt.

"Dammit, Keanu!" You pouted, turning around to glare at him, but you couldn't hide your smile. Despite losing, this experience left you fulfilled and satisfied.

"I won this round," Keanu said, collapsing beside you. "But I promise, I'll lose the next time."

Giggling, you rested in his embrace, wondering what the next round of challenges might entail. The days of scorching passion had left you both physically worn out, but emotionally empowered. Keanu's lips met yours, sealing the victory with a kiss.

The sun peeked through the windows, casting a golden light that shimmered across your sweaty, tangled bodies. "I guess it's time to call it quits for today," Keanu murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction and exhaustion.

And though he won, Keanu felt the true prize—your unwavering love, passion, and acceptance.

"Come on, let's take a shower and start fresh," he added, helping you sit up.

Laughing breathlessly, you rolled your eyes playfully. "Cheater," you accused, but your words were filled with affection.

"Not cheating, just gaming the rules," he shot back, his eyes full of jest.

Your skin drenched in sweat and satisfaction. "There's no way to declare a winner in a situation like this," you wheezed, but Keanu wasn't listening. He scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

In the bathtub, he washed you tenderly, his eyes full of admiration. "You gave me everything you had, and I couldn't ask for more," he whispered, his hand cupping your cheek. "Both of us are winners tonight."

Finally, content and satisfied, you settled into bed, nestled against him. "Well, I guess we made a record today," you mused, your voice filled with amusement.

Keanu chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "Indeed, we did," he agreed, his voice soft and warm. "We made love for about 3 days straight, and I wouldn't trade it for anything else."

You fell asleep in each other's arms, exhausted but happy, knowing they had pushed each other to the limit and beyond.

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves gif #keanu reeves x you #keanu characters #keanuverse #keanugifs #keanu x you #keanu reeves imagine #imagines #keanu reeves imagines

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ledstriplightsidea · 6 months

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How to Use Vibe Essential LED Light Strip?

Introducing the Vibe Essential LED Light Strip – your ticket to transforming any space with stunning, customizable lighting! Whether you want to create a cosy ambience in your living room or add a touch of magic to your backyard, this versatile light strip has got you covered. With its easy installation process and endless creative possibilities, it’s time to unlock the full potential of your…

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#how to use vibe e-ssential led light strip #how to use vibe essential led light strip\#vibe #Vibe essential

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morgana-lefay · 7 months

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The chaotic energy of the Deutschland music video Making gifs makes me notice details I haven't before, for better or worse. Rammstein and Emigrate have been my latest giffing (is that a word?) object of affection, so, let's have a comprehensive analysis on what I noticed on the Deutschland video. This probably isn't new to the majority of people, but I'm arriving late to this (6 men) party, so this might happen more often (some of these are more obvious than others, but for some reason they slipped my eyes the first few times). Saw the Richard/Till kiss, but didn't notice this little interaction going down at first. Schneider doesn't seem to be feeling it, though.

It started out on a happy note...

...but it didn't seem to match expectations in the end. 🙁 Maybe Till smoked too much cigar...

Monk Till's "oh, you motherfucker" face, after getting hit in the head by an unsuspected vase, at the hands of, even weirder, Monk Schneider.

Of course Till had to be fucking something...(at least this time it doesn't involve a real bear). But what caught my eye was the person coming from behind (is it Richard?), putting his hands on his back and shoulder. Emotional support (why, though?) or trying to get his attention back?

The most chaotic part: Richard furiously stripping, Till spanking one of the girls' butt with what seems to be a belt; Flake just being over-enthusiastically supportive of the stripping, I guess, and Ollie, in the back, observing adorably, like a mother watching their kids wrestle-play ("oh, these boys...they're stupid, but they're mine💗"), as the madness unfolds.

Poor Flake, being Flake, struggling with the gun in the middle of the action. (extra points for badass Paul and suave-looking Ollie).

Didn't realise the person being burned was Germania and that she had the mouth flamethrower mask on (the red dress led me back to RZK's on the DRSG mv, but I'm not sure if it's actually related).

The 3 Jedis back there, with the (cheap) light sabers (though they're giving Dark Side of the Force vibes).

These two just keep hugging throughout History.

Paul throwing up, Schneider staying in character with the crazy Monk routine and Ollie just happy to be there.

Germania wearing (creepy) white doves on her shoes...

Everyone all gloomy and Flake being too happy for a guy, well, in his current predicament...

And this poor guy right here.

#rammstein #(sorry. Today I had a day off from work)#(and I'm not getting enough sleep)#(Till is still terrible shooting those two handguns. Why do they always give him two?)#rammstein shenanigans #r+

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winterbanner · 2 years

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Golden (Bucky x Fem!Reader)

Summary: The Avengers are a family. They spend their days off together, relaxing by the lakeside, bathing in the summer sun. Bucky is hesitant to join in the festivities, but he can never say no to you.

Tags: Fluff, Some Insecure!Bucky, Slight Angst, Sam and Clint Are Little Shits, 100% Summer Vibes

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Some Allusions to Bucky's Past, Explicit Language, Non-Sexual Nudity

A/N: I request your sincerest congratulations as I have finally managed to write something that isn't sad lol.

It had been decades since Bucky had truly felt the sun. Its warmth tingling his skin, as he took in the scene sprawled before him.

There were no screams, just the sound of Sam’s hysterics as he pushed Clint off the pier and into the welcoming waters below. There were no soldiers, just heroes with suntanned skin and bright smiles.

It felt like stepping into a different world, one where cold metal floors were replaced with green grass, and the sky transformed from inky black to cerulean blue. This world was filled with color, laughter and light; where the warm lake reflected sunlight in its gentle ripples. A great contrast to the harsh and icy-cold spray of the hose his handlers used to wash the blood off of his skin.

Yes, it was a different world.

A place Bucky Wasn't sure he belonged.

They were a family. The Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes enjoying their day off, basking under a sun which only seemed to brighten the light that already ran through their veins. The same sun which seemed to emphasize the shadow that shrouded Bucky, his arms coated in a long sleeved shirt and gloves, despite the blaring heat.

Steve had you on his shoulders, your face enlightened with slight panic and joy as he dunked you under the water, your hair soaking wet, your smile gleaming.

“Bucky!” You yelled, your eyes widening with excitement as you noticed his arrival. You began to race towards the shore, water splashing in your wake, the sun’s rays reflecting in the light of your eyes.

“You came!” You exclaimed , as you approached his shadowy form, pure joy written on your expression.

“Yeah I guess I did, Doll.” Bucky laughed, as you took his hand and led him down the hill and closer to your friends. His eyes remained entranced on your face, your perfectly sculpted lips going on and on about what a perfect day you had planned.

“Are you gonna swim in jeans?” You questioned, your head cocked in confusion as you took in his choice of attire.

“Oh um, I-I guess not.”

Bucky’s mind began to swim with panic as his metal hand fumbled with the hem of his henley. The clothes he wore hid shadows underneath them; A body littered with mangled scars, and adorned with a metallic arm powerful enough to choke the life out of even the most innocent.

You noticed his hesitancy; your hand giving his a loving squeeze in response.

“We don’t have to swim ya know? Tony and Peter are grilling hot dogs and I’m sure we could-”

Suddenly a pit began to grow in Bucky's stomach, the feeling of being a burden. He didn't want to prevent you from enjoying your day off, especially not due to his own insecurities. He saw how much fun you were having with Steve, the way joy seemed to ripple off of you in waves. He didn’t want to make that go away, to somehow allow his shadow to suffocate the light you exuded.

“No Doll. I-I wanna swim with you.” Bucky stated, as he gently let go of your hand to strip off his disguise, and down to his swim trunks. He felt exposed, his arm gleaming under the sunlight, his scars exposed for this new world to see.

You reached for his hand again with a smile, before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Race ya to the water.” You challenged with a tenacious wink, as you barreled towards the shoreline.

Bucky started running behind you, his shroud of shadows chasing light and laughter as you sprinted in front of him.

Just as your feet touched the water, he came up behind you and lifted you in his arms, your joyful giggles permeating his ears, as you willingly let him take you into his arms.

“You let me win!” You exclaimed, a pout on your expression as Bucky threw you gently over his shoulder.

“Nope. Doll, you must have some sort of serum in ya, because I swear to God I was struggling to keep up."

You both laughed at his joke, as he put you down to stand on your own, the water now up to your waists. Your height caused you to have to look up when you spoke to him; your smile wide as you gazed into the silvery-blue of his eyes.

Bucky swore that you were golden, the sun’s rays forming a sort of halo which encompassed your form, as you gazed up at him with an emotion Bucky could only hope was adoration.

You were nothing, but a precious metal to be fawned over; to be cherished and beheld in awe. The way the sun reflected off of the warmth of your skin, how your hair glistened in its light; it was as if you were born from it.

His Doll.

His golden girl.

This must’ve been a different world. Because there is no way in hell that the same reality that made you, could ever make something as mangled as Bucky. If you were golden, then he was something else entirely. Something cold, dark and alien.

It was then that he noticed, a scar gracing your side, a line of reddened skin that cascaded across your soft and glistening skin. His hand mindlessly reached out to touch it, the metal of his fingers gently tracing your wound with the utmost of concern.

“It’s part of the job.” You explained with a shrug, your hand never once leaving his own.

“Hey lovebirds! Could you two stop swooning and get your asses over here!” Clint yelled, causing both you and Bucky to shake your heads in amusement.

Soon enough, Bucky began to get used to your world. His eyes grew used to the color, and laughter began to feel more natural as it left his chest. He couldn’t help but notice the bruises that graced Natasha’s chest, and the scars that littered Wanda’s arm; their wounds making him feel less alien in comparison.

It also helped how your hands always seemed to stay attached to his body, your arms wrapped around his waist, your palms running over the scars on his chest and shoulder’s without second thought. It was physical, it was close, welcoming and warm.

He liked this world, and those that managed to sparkle within it. His heroic friends, and his golden girl. He liked the way you felt on his shoulders, how you allowed his bloodstained hands to grip your scantily clad form. He liked the way his smile stretched his cheeks, how the sun kissed his skin.

He had you lifted up, his arms holding you tightly to his chest. The rest of the team had begun to make their way towards the shore, the sun beginning to set, painting the sky with hues of pink, orange and yellow. Meanwhile, you two remained, your painted nails gently raking through his hair, your eyes locked with his.

He felt how your other hand began to run up and down the metal of his arm, its plates shifting under your gentle touch. “Sorry for staring, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen it out in the open like this.” You whispered, your voiced laced with awe.

“It looks so shiny out here, so bright. It’s beautiful.”

Bucky took a moment to let your words settle in, the weight of your statement causing the shadows to flee from his presence, even if just for this moment. He shifted your weight onto flesh arm, so he could cup your face with his metal hand. The silver of his fingers, meeting your golden visage, as he leaned forward to press your lips against his own.

Maybe this was, in fact, the same world that created him. He had just found the better part.

A space where his silver could shine just as bright as your gold.

A place where he had you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you

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smurphyse · 1 year

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Lead Paint & Salt Air | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: mentions of Diana's death (not explicit), mini-PTSD flashback for Spencer, Spencer's horny and lonely, also cranky.

Summary: After two years on the road, Spencer breaks down in Thunderbird, California. In only a few hours he meets some of the most eclectic townspeople of his life when all he wants is some peace and quiet.

(Note: Because of the nature of this fic, being inspired by one of my favorite bands, the chapters will be a bit longer than usual to fit with the vibe of the song they're named after <3)

After he was released from Milburn, Spencer’s mother passed in her sleep. It was blessedly quick and painless for her, and though it tore him apart he was grateful at least for that. Finally, Spencer had nothing pressing tying him to D.C., and he followed Gideon’s lead so many years later. Buying a Jeep and taking to the road, Spencer lived out of a suitcase as he’d done for years.

Instead of searching for serial killers, he began a long search for himself.

For two years now, he’d asked miles of pavement and yellow dashed paint who he was. He questioned the night sky and the morning sun over countless towns and cities. He’d even asked the mountaintops and hillsides, and yet he had found no answer.

Spencer started drinking again. It seemed the thing to do in shitty motel rooms and dive bars, putting on a few pounds with each greasy dish that accompanied his bourbon. The bags under his eyes were no longer from a lack of sleep - though he still didn’t get much because of the nightmares - but instead they stained his skin from the exhaustion of that ever-present question in his mind.

Is this who I am now?

Am I broken? Am I beyond salvation? Am I as worthless and lonely as I feel every single fucking day?

It all started when he tried to strangle a pregnant Cat Adams in an interrogation room. He slid down the cold concrete wall in a prison too much like the one he’d been released from when it first erupted through his brain like a bullet. One question led to another… and another and another, but they always started with that one.

Is this who I am now?

At this point, he was sure he’d never find the answer. Instead, he’d contented himself with wandering, exploring all that America currently had to offer. One day he’d move internationally, maybe go back to Paris where he’d spent time with his mother.

He’d happened upon Thunderbird, California early that morning. Worried he was lost forever in the Cali wilderness, Spencer followed the rising sun through winding forest roads as it streamed through the trees. After a few hours cautiously eyeing the offshutes of paths and trails, he finally burst into civilization.

It was a tiny beach town. A handful of buildings littered the main street, string lights connecting them along with the wind-blown piles of sand scattering along the road. Houses haphazardly were plopped along the varying hills that hid it from the outside world, but it was beautiful.

The shops on the main strip were brightly painted, handmade signs reading Billy’s Bait and Go!, Sue Says Sew, and Gil’s Grocery proudly proclaiming strangely named stores that gave little question for what they did to service the town. Spencer had yet to spot a normal chair on the porches outside- they were all either beach chairs or porch swings swaying in the light breeze.

Sunday was the Fourth of July, and the town was in full patriotic mode. Red, white, and blue windmills and flags sprung up from nearly every lawn. A fireworks stand was smack dab in the middle of a roundabout in the center of town, with a few people hurrying across the curved road to it. A man in an oversized Uncle Sam hat handed out sparklers to the kids, smiling wider than the sun.

Spencer spent the morning in the town diner, Bean There, looking out the large window as the small town came to life. It was apparently known for its local coffee. Spencer had to admit it was good, on the top ten list he’d tried in his travels. Though the best coffee had been found in a China Town shop in lower Indiana, which he was loath to admit.

He sat in a booth in the corner, people watching as the crowds picked up and petered out. All sorts of people filtered through the door as they used the diner as a waystation before heading out to the rest of their days. In a town of less than five hundred, any outsider was noticed immediately, and Spencer was no different. Nearly every person who came in eyeballed his Jeep on the way through the door and squinted at Spencer before ordering. He didn’t mind, he was used to being the outsider, had been his whole life.

He picked at a plate of waffles and bacon, holding a book loosely in one hand as he enjoyed the morning sunlight through the window. His waitress, Michelle, had given him a side-eye after his first hour, unsure what to make of him. He simply tipped her early, going with a twenty-five percent tip of what he’d already ordered. She was much more amenable after that, mostly leaving him alone but checking in periodically with a smile and a refill.

His hair was still long. He had refused to cut it, even after JJ's insistence over video chats. He liked it, especially liked these new trends of men finally getting to put their hair in a bun. He liked the look, and had been enamored with the Nordic styles he read of in his youth, braiding and intricate knots decorated with silver and beads. He missed those days in Earth’s history.

He wore a pair of jeans and a purple flannel shirt with his boots. Though he often preferred suits, this style had appealed to him greatly in his early days on the road. He’d been called a “hipster” more times than he cared to admit, but he felt strong in his fashion choices. He knew he looked good, and Spencer had long since gotten used to the beard. Shaving on the road was hard and without the dress code constrictions of the BAU, he was happy to grow it out.

“Hey, Honey!” Michelle chuckled from behind the counter as the front door swung open. It chimed in greeting as two people stepped through and into the cool air-conditioned building. Spencer tried not to stare at the woman, but he’d spent a good long time on the road and it had been a while… and she was gorgeous.

Her hair poofed around her shoulders, eyes alight with an animated excitement. Copper toned muscles peeked out of a tank top and tight jeans, a red flannel tied around her hips as she sauntered into the diner. She had her arm looped around an older man’s waist, who hugged her tightly back before letting go as they approached the counter.

He had a clearly visible Ranger tattoo on his bicep, both of which were bigger than Spencer’s head. With his slicked back salt and pepper curls and giant frame, Spencer knew he wanted nothing to do with being on that man’s bad side.

“Mornin’, Chelle,” she smiled, easing into the stool across from the waitress. The man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, looking curiously around the diner as many patrons had that morning. His gaze landed on Spencer, who quickly glanced out the window to avoid his hard stare. "How's it going?"

“Oh, you know how it goes- a flirt here, a proposal there,” Michelle jokingly lamented as she pulled two mugs out from under the bar. She snagged the carafe from the coffee maker and filled them before sliding them across the counter.

“Oof,” the man chuckled heartily, finally tearing his dark eyes from Spencer and to her. “Sounds exhausting.”

“You joke all you want, Rose Delgado,” Michelle scolded, her playful smirk turning to a hard glare. She pointed at him, “I am a catch and everyone here knows it.”

Rose held up his hands in defeat, “My bad, Chelle. You’re absolutely right. If I were a few years younger I’d try for your hand too.”

“Who says you can’t?” she quipped with a wink, and Rose went bright red.

He dragged an awkward hand across the back of his neck and laughed, "Huh, well, I think Mattie May might have a problem with that."

The women laughed along with him, and Michelle tapped the counter lightly with her fingers, "I'll put your usual in. Extra powdered sugar, right, Honey?"

The girl referred to now forever in Spencer's brain as Honey nodded, licking her lips. "It's gonna be a long day, Chelle. Give me as much coke as you got."

Rose smacked the top of her head in jest, and Honey looked up to stick her tongue out at him. She glanced over at Spencer as he slid out of the booth, and even as he made his way over to the counter to pay she never averted her gaze. A gold ring was tied to a string necklace around her neck, and it was all Spencer had not to follow it to where the pendant rested between her boobs.

"You drive that Jeep outside?" Rose grumbled as he approached. Michelle came back up to the counter as Spencer tugged his wallet out of his pocket.

He handed her more than enough for his meal and another tip, then nodded, "Yeah, that's mine."

"Your axle is about to crack. You should get it looked at."

"I'll do that," Spencer replied politely. He was used to strangers telling him things he didn't really need to do by now. They often took one look at him and deemed him an academic, which wasn't wrong, but to them it usually meant he couldn't take care of things himself.

"Here's your change, baby," Michelle interrupted, reaching across the counter with a ten in one hand and a to-go cup of joe in the other. Rose stared at him, as did Honey, but Spencer just shook his head at the waitress.

"Keep it. Thanks for letting me keep your booth for a few hours."

He swept up the cup, gave her a nod and turned on his heel out the door. She laughed to herself and shouted after him, "Come back soon!

"Boy tips real good," he heard her just before the door closed behind him. "He can live in that booth if he wants."

Spencer smiled to himself as he hopped in the jeep. This was a nice town, but he'd been through a lot of nice towns. He had to keep moving, searching, coming up with a reason for leaving his friends behind to worry about him.

He decided to see the beach before going back through the trees. He wanted to see Oregon, but his phone didn't work so well in these isolated parts of the state so he'd have to buy a map somewhere. He made note of the lone gas station in town, then followed the signs to the sand.

It was early, but there were people in the water. Spencer wasn't much for swimming, so he parked his jeep in the small lot and pulled a blanket out of the back. He found a secluded spot on a hill, unfurled the blanket and sat down. He took off his flannel and shoes, leaning back to enjoy the view.

The sounds of shrieking laughter and the waves lulled him into complacency as he sipped his coffee. The sun was hot, but not too bad for this early in the morning. Unlike DC, this area wasn't humid, and the soft winds off the water cooled his skin.

Is this who I am now? Popped into his mind, always at the worst times. Once upon a time, he was a strong and capable man, an elite FBI agent always willing to go the extra mile. Now, even sitting here exhausted him. Speaking to the townsfolk at the counter exhausted him, and all he wanted to do was have a drink and go to sleep.

Is this who I am now? He wondered. Am I the guy who has nowhere to go and nowhere to be except the road, running far away from my past and the pain that follows?

He supposed so. Being out here hurt less than sitting in his empty apartment, looking into the void of his missing heart and wondering just when exactly his life passed him by. He always thought he’d have a family, kids and a wife by now. He thought he’d have a house and people to depend on him, that he’d love and they’d never wonder if it was out of obligation or a bond from trauma like it had been with the BAU.

Sure, they called him every week or so, just to see if he was okay. Their voices were always laced with concern, but a dripping tiredness of having to worry about the kid. Spencer hadn’t been a kid in a long time, and with each new trauma their babying of him became just another weight added to his shoulders. Another reason to prove himself.

It never worked.

Deciding it was time to go, time to run away again, Spencer dragged himself away from the beach and its false allure of peacefulness. He rolled up the blanket and put it back in its usual spot in the back of the jeep, put his coffee in the cupholder and he was off again.

Coming up the bend from the beach, he spotted a pothole one second too late. The back wheel slammed into it with a loud crunch, and before he knew it the back of the jeep collapsed into the sand-dusted street.

“Oh, goddamnit,” he grunted, punching the passenger seat in irritation.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, and sure enough he had zero reception. He groaned and let his head fall back on the headrest, his eyes shutting. Sucking in a deep breath, Spencer counted to five before letting it go.

“Yer axle’s cracked!” a voice came from the side, and when Spencer opened his eyes he spotted a beat up truck next to him on the road. It had cans dangling from the sides on old fishing line and other random trash piled up in the back, a boat hitched to the back of it.

An old grizzled man leaned heavily out the window, pointing at the back of the jeep and nodding, “Yep, y’ain’t goin’ nowhere, son.”

“Yeah,” Spencer snapped, furrowing his brows at him. “I noticed.”

“Ain’t no need to take a tone with me, boy,” the man grumbled. He pointed a gnarled finger at Spencer that shook in the air. “I’mma help you.”

Spencer didn’t have a lot of faith that his twisted tree limb of a man was going to be much help to him, so he waved his cell phone at him. “I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone so I can call a tow truck?”

The man frowned with an exaggerated bottom lip and shook his head animatedly, “I ain’t got one of them things! Ya think I want brain cancer or somethin’?”

“Uhm… no?” Spencer began, but he cut him off with a beckoning hand.

“No. I don’t,” the man nodded firmly. “C’mon, I’ll take ya up to Rose’s place.”

Spencer groaned internally at the name he’d heard this morning. It was the same squinting old man who told him the axle was about to crack in the first place. Then he brightened up at the thought of getting to see Honey and her tight tank top again.

“I ain’t got all day, son. I’m busy, y’see,” the man called, breaking through his thoughts. Spencer nodded to himself and turned off the jeep before getting out and snagging his suitcase from the back seat.

He rounded the truck only to open the creaky door and find almost an entire carton of cigarette packs littering the floorboards, along with a variety of loose tools and nails. Spencer climbed into the cab and closed the door behind him, setting the suitcase on his lap. It was a travel size, just big enough for a week’s worth of clothes and shoes. He kept his toiletries in another bag in the back of his car.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said softly. “Sorry for snapping. It’s been a bit of a day for me.”

The man chuckled, a little choked huffing sound from deep in his throat. “It’s been a bit of a day for everyone, son. It’s only nine in the mornin’!”

Deciding it was better to scoff in his mind and not at this weird stranger driving him through town, Spencer nodded. The brightly colored shops passed them by as the man drove at a snail’s pace, stopping for the allotted three seconds at each stop sign and never using his blinker.

“Name’s Nell, by the by,” the old man declared suddenly, jerking Spencer out of his reverie of the town. “Not that you asked. What’s yer story, son?”

“Uh, I’m Spencer,” he said slowly. Awkwardly. “I’m just traveling.”

“That’s a sheht story. No pizzazz, no flare. Ain’t you got stories where yer from?”

How do you like dead mutilated bodies? He wondered. Spencer laughed quietly and made sure to stare straight ahead. Nell’s eyes flicked quickly to his each time he looked over, and the truck veered with them.

“I’m not much of a storyteller, Nell.”

“Shame,” Nell muttered, his top lip twitching as he seemed to think very hard about that. “Puppy dog eyes like that, you could get a peach and a half to follow you home if you could string a good yarn.”

Spencer struggled to follow that metaphor, so he just gave a noncommittal hum. The thought of a man who looked like Nell referring to a woman as a ‘peach’ left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You ever been this way up before?"

"Nope. Just passing through on my way to Oregon."

"Ah, sheht," Nell grumbled. He slapped the steering wheel and pointed at nothing. "Oregon ain't got nothin' on Thundabird! I came here after 'Nam and never looked back!"

Spencer thanked God that Rossi didn't talk like this, not that fighting in Vietnam caused mushmouth, but he was getting irritated.

"Lotsa people round here just showed up. Never left. It's a town of strays, y’know? Might find somethin' purty and never wanna leave like I did."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, not really paying much attention. He gazed longingly out the window and decided he could have walked faster than Nell drove.

"Met my Bernie and never could leave. She’s purtier than a seagull at sunset, I swear it.”

“You have any kids?”

“Nah, she’s small. Not much more’n me can fit in there most of the time.”

Spencer made a face and turned to him, disgusted, “What?”

Nell leaned forward and rubbed a hand across the dash of his nasty truck, “She’s small, but she’s a beaut! All I ever needed.”

Thankfully, they finally made their way up to the diner. Delgado’s lay catty corner to it, right next to a small inn called The Thunderbird Inn. Spencer got the hell out of Bernie as fast as he could and waved a hand to Nell. “Thanks for the ride, Nell. It’s been a trip.”

“Anytime, son!” Nell chuckled manically, and it was all Spencer had not to grimace. He pulled out of the small driveway slower than molasses, almost hit a stop sign, then rumbled down the street.

Spencer took a steadying breath and shook his head before going into the mechanic's shop. A small reception area stood in the front, the smell of grease and exhaust puffing in from the door leading through the garage. There was a window in front of a desk where a small woman sat in a headscarf. She wore a brightly colored floral shirt, her braids piled high above her head as she gave him a small wave.

"How ya doing, baby?" she asked with an easy grin. The tension in Spencer's shoulders from talking to Nell eased in just one look at that smile. There was also something about an older black lady calling him ‘baby’ in a soft voice that made him feel better for some reason.

"Uhm, my car broke down," Spencer said, pointing behind him.

She nodded, "I'm Mattie May. Rose told me you might be making your way here."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Spencer snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Don't take it personal," Mattie May hushed. She stood and rounded the corner, then waved for him to follow. "Man's got a sixth sense about cars. In fact, I first met him when I broke down on the side of the road outside of town."

Spencer followed Mattie May behind the counter and into a small kitchen area. He eyeballed the fridge as she puttered around. Pictures of Rose, Mattie May, and Honey littered the front. Some had group photos with a few of the eclectic townsfolk he'd run into already, others with people he didn't know.

"He asked me to dinner before fixing my car. I fell head over heels and never looked back. Moved here a few months later." She pulled out a fresh pot of coffee and poured him some in a brightly colored mug with flowers on it, then one for herself. "You take sugar, baby?"

"Lots of it," he muttered, leaning down to look at more of the photographs. "This town's like the Bermuda triangle, huh?"

"For lost souls… yeah, I guess it is," she said softly. Her skin glimmered under the fluorescent lighting, dark and beautiful against the bright purples and pinks of her shirt and beaming smile. "You lost?"

Spencer stood up sharply, suddenly rocked with defensiveness. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "How long do you think the repairs will take?"

Mattie May clicked her teeth and sighed, then handed him the mug. "Rose will have to tell you that. If he doesn't have the parts you can stay at the inn. I'll have Honey make you up a room."

Spencer took a sip. It was fantastic, obviously from the same beans the diner used. "Is she your daughter? I saw her with Rose at the diner."

"We've definitely taken to her like she is. Another stray that showed up a while back and never wanted to leave."

"Do people who come here ever leave?" he snarked, flashing her a look.

"People land where they need to. Sometimes that's here."

"I'd like to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. No offense."

Mattie May smirked at him and leaned against the counter, "None taken."

"Axle cracked, huh?" a familiar deep voice came from behind them. Spencer looked to find Rose leaning over the front counter and watching him expectantly.

"Right in half."

"Hmmm," he grunted, nodding to himself. "I'll send out Rico."

"The man's got somewhere to be, Rose," Mattie May said, waving her cup at her husband. "How long will it take to repair?"

Rose pushed himself off the counter with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face as he ambled slowly into the small kitchen, then shrugged. "I don't have that model in stock as nobody in town drives it. Could take a month for the parts to come in."

"A month?" Spencer asked sharply. He set the cup down harder on the counter than he meant to, and it hit with a clatter. "I can't sit around here for a month."

“Or more.” Rose shrugged, "UPS only comes through here once a month by boat. It's too hard to get through the mountains."

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" Mattie May asked softly. She set a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze. "If you gotta be somewhere soon, I'm sure we can find you a ride."

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck roughly in irritation. "Nowhere. I just don't like sitting in one place too long."

"You some sorta drifter?" Rose asked, eyeing him with a hard glare. Spencer was sure he looked the part with his old flannel, messy hair, beard and battered boots, but he didn’t like the thought after his previous line of work.

Spencer glared right back, his jaw set tightly. Mattie May blew out a breath and gave him another squeeze before letting her hand fall from his shoulder. “It might do you good to sit still for a while, then. C’mon, baby, I’ll take you over to Honey and we’ll get you a room.”

Mattie May steered him around Rose and out the front door. A loud boom! Made him jerk away from her and flinch from the sound. A few errant pop pop pops followed, and when he heard her soft laughter he looked up to see kids lighting fireworks in the street.

His vision dragged, his blood pounded in his ears as he tried to convince himself he was fine. He wasn’t being blown up, and he wasn’t at Everett Lynch’s home. Mattie May’s voice ripped him sharply to the present as she called to them.

“Y’all go somewhere else and do that! People are tryin’ to work!”

Their shoulders deflated and they nodded, “Yes, Mrs. Delgado!”

She shook her head and chuckled, turning back to Spencer. He stared at the charred spot on the pavement where the firecrackers had erupted, chest heaving as the acrid scent of burnt embers flooded his nose.

“You okay, baby?”

Spencer found himself turning toward her kind voice, his eyes wet and suddenly more tired than he’d been in months. “Yeah. I’m… I’m not a big fan of the fourth of July.”

“The firecrackers?” she asked. He nodded. “Did you serve?”

“Uh, no ma’am.” He didn’t want to tell her anything about the FBI. Since leaving, Spencer hadn’t told anyone that he used to be an agent. What he’d become was too shameful.

“Holly Henson isn’t much for it either since he came back from Iraq, neither is Rose. I bought them some noise canceling headphones for this time of year. I have an extra pair.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

She led him into the front of The Thunderbird Inn, where Honey sat behind the reception desk with a young man Spencer hadn't met yet. He was tall and about her age, near thirty, leaning over the counter and smirking at her. His easy going grin and good looks reminded him of Luke, as did his dark closely cropped hair.

"I'm serious, Honey. It'll be fun."

Honey lounged in a roller chair and crossed her hands behind her head, "I'm not going to the bar on the fourth. I'll end up having Lionel and Ritchie pawing all over me and looking down my shirt."

The man peeked a little further over and grinned, "I'd tell you to wear a different shirt, but I can't exactly blame them for trying to sneak a peek."

Honey sat up sharply and slapped at him, and he jumped back with a mad laugh. She looked over his shoulder and her eyes brightened as she saw Spencer. "Axle cracked, huh, big tipper?"

Spencer squinted at her and nodded. Mattie May laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, "He needs a room for the night, Honey. Rico, Rose is lookin' for you. You gotta go tow this young man's car."

She turned to him, "I never caught your name."

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Rico eyed him the way Rose and every other person in this town seemed to, "Your axle cracked?"

Spencer sighed in pure exasperation. “Yes.”

Rico glanced back at Honey, who shrugged and made a face. He made his way toward the door, watching Spencer. His shoulder bumped Spencer's as he passed and then he was gone, Mattie May following closely behind.

"I got Room 4 open, Mr. Reid," Honey said playfully as Spencer glared out the door where Rico went. He looked up to see her dangling an ancient key attached to a little green tag with the inn name on it. "Follow me."

Spencer followed her and her tight jeans down a hallway to the left. The inn was a big square, two levels, with only a handful of rooms on the first floor. Honey took him to the center where the rooms met in the middle of the curved hallway. A door across from his had a sign on it that read Management on the front in faded gilded lettering and a doorbell on the side.

"Dinner’s at six. I'll bring you a plate," she said absentmindedly as she fiddled with the door. She clasped the handle and tugged up as she turned the lock. "Door sticks, and there's a patio out back where we usually have a bonfire this time of year. If it's too loud, let me know."

The door opened with a crack, and she pushed it open for him to step inside. The room was small and airy, wide broad windows that had a view of the far off ocean and palm trees. Spencer spotted boats and people in the water as he stepped up to them to look out. The tulle cottony curtains swayed with the breeze through the cracked door, and without much thought Spencer shut and locked it.

The bedspread was a bright sky blue with matching pillows. The walls were painted off-white, with pictures of the beach and the town plastered all over, much like Mattie May’s fridge and the reception areas of both businesses. Spencer dug into his pocket as he looked around with hardly disguised disdain and pulled out his wallet. He handed his credit card to Honey, but she just stared at him.

“Don’t you need this?”

“First night’s on Lionel. He was supposed to fix that pothole weeks ago.”

Spencer squinted at her, “How do you know I hit a pothole?”

She smiled, wide and bright. “Saw you drive toward the beach. Townspeople know to avoid it.”

“Good to know,” he grumbled, stuffing his card back into his wallet. “Is there a phone I can use?”

“Mmm, most people here don’t have cell phones. Providers don’t get great service around here, but there’s a landline on the nightstand.”

Spencer nodded, looking to where she pointed. “Internet?”

Honey laughed, but when she saw him watching her sternly she stopped. “Oh, you’re serious. There’s Collie’s Cafe down the street. It’s dial-up but it’ll get you what you need for a dime every ten minutes.”

“God this place really is the Bermuda Triangle,” he groaned, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. “Does everyone have a weird name here?”

Honey put her hands on her hips and made a face, “Who’s got a weird name?”

Spencer just glared.

Honey broke out into a creeping slow smile and nodded to herself. “You’re not a lot of fun, are you, Mr. Reid?”

“You can call me Spencer.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. She tapped her jaw and watched him, “This is a nickname kinda town. You stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

“I hope to God that doesn’t happen,” he said irritably. “If Honey’s not your real name, do you mind if I ask what it is?” “Y/N,” she replied with a grin. “Call me that and we’ll have a problem.”

“I don’t want any problems, Honey,” Spencer snarked back. “I just want to leave Margaritaville and go to Oregon.”

Honey bit her lip and smiled before turning on her heel and walking toward the door. She lingered for a moment with her hand on the knob, obviously chewing on something in her mind. Sucking in a breath, she glanced his way once more and said in a soft voice, “Maybe your problem is that you can’t enjoy where you’re at, Spencer. Maybe you should take a breather.”

Before he could angrily reply, she closed the door behind her. It didn’t fit in the frame well, and he heard her little grunt as she pulled up on the knob to latch it shut. Shaking his head and letting out a pained breath, Spencer hoisted his suitcase up and tossed it on the bed, grateful to be alone again. He plopped down next to it, elbows on his knees as he looked around, and that question popped into his head again.

Is this who I am now?

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: PLEASE tell me what you think... this series is so close to my heart. What do you think of the townspeople we've met so far? Reader/Honey? Sad!Spencer??

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