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luvwestwood · 3 months

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"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro

4,469 words.

warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare

notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)

art used is by @/yunonoai

Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.

Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.

Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.

On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.

You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.

At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.

Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.

You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.

During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.

Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.

You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”

As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.

“Goes by the name.. uh… Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.

Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.

The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”

“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.

Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.

Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.

“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”

“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.

An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.

“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.

“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.

The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.

“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”

Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”

“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.

“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”

He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.

Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.

Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.

You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.

Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.

Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.

Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.

*Ding!*

The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.

“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.

A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”

You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”

Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.

“…Are you.. the escort?”

Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.

“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”

Is he not going to question anything?..

Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”

He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”

You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.

Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.

You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.

Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.

You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.

Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.

Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.

You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.

Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.

You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.

“Toji,” you called out his name.

The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”

Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”

Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”

You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”

Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”

As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.

“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.

"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.

"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.

Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."

He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.

You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."

Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.

Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.

Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."

Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.

You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.

He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."

Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.

You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.

If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.

"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."

A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.

Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."

You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."

Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.

"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."

Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.

Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.

He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.

Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."

Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.

Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.

Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.

You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.

The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.

"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.

Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.

One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.

Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.

Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.

Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.

"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.

You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.

Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."

You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."

His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.

One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.

Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.

And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.

"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.

You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.

The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.

Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.

Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.

The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.

"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.

"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.

He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.

You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..

*click!*

Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.

Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.

He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.

Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.

Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.

Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,

You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.

"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.

This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.

Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.

"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.

He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"

You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.

"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.

"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."

He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.

Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.

He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.

Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.

He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.

"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"

Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.

The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.

"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.

You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"

He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."

You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."

Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #jjk fushiguro

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dejwrld · 5 months

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summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact

sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.

The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.

As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?

One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.

You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.

He knew you were watching.

You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.

You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.

Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.

Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.

You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.

The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.

You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.

The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.

There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.

And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.

Geto Suguru.

The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #female reader #anime smut #anime x reader #black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months

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Garden of Secrets [37] - Amaranth

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Art lasts forever.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3600

Series Masterlist

The first thing you felt through the warmth of peaceful sleep was the blinding sunrays piercing through the darkness, causing you to make a face and wonder why on earth the curtains were open this early—

Oh.

You weren’t in your room.

A smile curled your lips as you shifted closer to Benedict who looked to be still in deep sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other kept you close to his chest even in his sleep. You had found a couple of soil bags last night to use as pillows along with a very old blanket that you suspected they used to carry the said bags, and thrown it over you. You let your hungry gaze wander down from his handsome face to his perfect torso; he looked like a statue one of his idols would sculpt in Renaissance in such an effortless way that even looking at him made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks burning when you remembered last night.

Well, as it turned out Benedict was right.

It felt absolutely divine.

You nibbled on your lip, dragging your eyes away from him to your surroundings. In daylight, the greenhouse looked so beautiful that it felt as if you were in a dream, making you heave a sigh. You slowly pulled away from him, careful not to wake him up and reached for your shift to put it on. It was dry unlike the rest of your clothes but it was so see-through in the sunlight that if it were any other time you would have never thought of walking around just in that, except that—

Well.

Considering last night, it wouldn’t be a scandal.

You bit down a smile and got off the floor, approaching the Middlemist Red. You still couldn’t believe it was yours, after years and years of dreaming of seeing it at least once in some sort of exhibition, now you could see it anytime you wanted in your own greenhouse. You gently caressed the petals with your fingertip, then checked the soil in the pot to see whether it needed water but it was still damp so you figured it could wait until later in the day. You looked around, taking in the sight.

This was actually yours. All of it.

“I thought you left.”

You looked over your shoulder and turned around to look at Benedict better, your heart skipping a beat as you did. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position with the blanket pooled around his waist, his hair messy as he ran his hand through it, that lopsided grin you loved so much playing on his lips. You took a deep breath to snap yourself out of the haze, then leaned back to the shelf.

“Well this is my greenhouse,” you said airily, motioning between you before pointing at him. “So hypothetically, if anyone was to leave…”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “Mm, should I leave then?”

“No,” you said with a grin. “In fact, I don’t think either of us should. Let’s just stay here for the rest of our lives.”

He stretched out his arm as if offering you his hand. “Will you come here please?”

You pretended to think about it, then approached him with a giggle that turned into a squeal when he grabbed you by the waist to pull you to his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart slamming against your ribcage as he leaned in to kiss you, making you heave a happy sigh.

“Good morning my love,” he muttered to your lips, stroking your cheekbone and coaxing a smile from you.

“Good morning.”

“Remind me again, why are you wearing clothes?”

You let out a small laugh. “For decorum, obviously,” you teased him. “I mean surely you cannot disagree with propriety, can you?”

“I absolutely can,” he said, stealing a kiss from you as his hand trailed up your leg, pushing the skirt of your shift up, awakening fire on your skin. “To hell with decorum.”

You felt nearly intoxicated as a giggle climbed up your throat and he rolled you over to get on top of you, settling between your legs, holding himself up on one arm to look down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I’ll never be able to paint this…” he murmured and you tilted your head, stroking your fingertips over his chest, right over his heart.

“Well I suppose you’ll have to settle for the feeling rather than the depiction,” you tried to joke, stealing a look at him before the thought hit you, making you furrow your brows. He knew you too well not to notice it, so he pulled back just a little.

“What is it?”

“This doesn’t change things, does it?”

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“You won’t take it back now that I…” you trailed off. “You won’t stop loving me now that I said I love you?”

That fond look appeared in his blue eyes again and he smiled at you, then reached to your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest, letting you feel his strong heartbeat.

“This life and beyond, remember?” he murmured. “I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.”

You pressed your lips together and he tilted his head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but I just don’t see how,” you muttered. “I mean I’ve— I’ve been terrible to you.”

“No you haven’t.”

You scoffed. “Ben.”

“What?” he said with a small laugh. “You haven’t.”

“Just yesterday I accused you of cheating on me.”

“I mean it brought us here to this so I’m not complaining,” he said, wiggling his brows and drawing a burst of laughter from your lips.

“No but ever since we met, I’ve been…” you mumbled. “Not nice to you.”

“You were.”

You shot him a look and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“It’s a subjective matter.”

You looked around the greenhouse before turning your glances to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Why did you do all this for me when you didn’t even know I was in love with you?”

He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.

“I didn’t do this so that you would fall in love with me,” he said. “I did it because I want you to be happy. Simple as that.”

You felt as if your heart was melting and you leaned up to kiss him but the sound of a movement by the door reached you, making Benedict roll off you to shield you with his body as soon as the door opened and Mr. Binsted walked in.

“Oh—my apologies!” he exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on you two, then he looked up, his whole face going red. “Sir. Ma’am.”

“Mr. Binsted,” Benedict said, trying to keep a straight face as if nothing was out of the ordinary while you stayed behind him, your cheeks burning. “Good morning.”

“Hello,” you murmured, still hiding behind Benedict and Mr. Binsted nodded, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“Good morning, I’ll just—come back later,” he stammered and left, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You buried your face to Benedict’s shoulder, gripping his arm tightly and letting out a whine while he started laughing.

“Oh my God…” you said. “Oh my God, I can never look him in the eye again.”

Benedict tried to stop his laughter and shook his head, then turned to you.

“Could’ve been worse,” he commented and grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you let out a clear laugh despite yourself. “Besides, look on the bright side.”

You raised your brows, still smiling. “And what is that?”

“Well you see my love, now…” he dipped his head to brush his lips against yours, that familiar fire spreading through your veins as his hand pushed your skirt up. “Now we know no one will be disturbing us for a while.”

If somebody told you that one day you would have the greenhouse of your dreams, including the rarest flower in the world and you would spend the whole day away from it, you would have laughed in their face.

Yet in your defense, Benedict had a way of convincing you.

It felt like you were put under some sort of spell, that fire only he managed to breathe into life taking over you until the only thing in your mind was him. After leaving the greenhouse, you had every intention of going back once you had some breakfast but before you knew it, you both found yourselves in his bed.

You could not believe you had denied yourself the bliss for so long when you could’ve been doing this for months and more importantly, you couldn’t believe you were still hungry for him even after spending hours in the bed with him, completely lost in the pleasure.

And the worst part? You actually had to step away from his room and from him so that your maid could do your hair for tonight, for Gordon’s gala.

For some reason, every single act except the marital act felt entirely unnecessary to you now that you had gotten a taste of it.

Paula retrieved her hands from your hair, letting you look in the mirror to check your bun and you turned your head, then smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” she said as you stood up, and put your corset over your shift. She went behind you to put the laces into the hoops but you turned your head when you heard the knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

A bright smile warmed your lips. “Come in Ben!”

The door opened and he stepped inside, and you turned to Paula.

“You may leave, thank you.”

Paula curtsied and left the room, and you grinned at Benedict, leaning back to the vanity.

“You look too handsome,” you said, your lips pulled into a small pout as your gaze wandered over him. Unlike you, he looked very much ready to go outside and attend this gala you two were expected in, yet the only thing you wanted to do was to drag him to bed, outside world be damned.

And judging by the mischievous look in his blue eyes, he shared the sentiment.

“Let’s just skip this one,” he said, approaching you and your jaw dropped, an exaggerated shock clear on your face.

“We made a promise,” you reminded him. “It’s Gordon’s gala.

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and you giggled, turning around.

“Help me?” you asked airily, watching him on the mirror a playful smirk curled his lips, then his hands went to the laces of your corset. A giddy laugh climbed up your throat as you reached back to grab at his wrist when you realized the corset getting even looser.

“Lace up Ben, not unlace.”

“We can just tell them we had something to do.”

“Lace up,” you teased him with a small smile and he heaved a dramatic sigh, then tugged at the laces, the corset getting tighter around your body. The memory of earlier today flashed before your eyes, with his tight grip around your waist and you felt your cheeks burn, the familiar fire coming to life at your lower stomach.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss on the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered close for a moment before you tried to see through the haze of desire, willing yourself to turn around to look up at him.

“I owe Gordon,” you said, playing with the lapels of his jacket. “For coming to my aunt’s ball. Besides, is he not your hero in art?”

“He is,” he said, one hand playing with the front ribbon of your corset absentmindedly and you entwined your fingers with his. He raised your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making your stomach do a pleasant flip.

“What if his painting tonight is a masterpiece and you miss it?” you taunted him and he scoffed.

“I have the most beautiful masterpiece in front of me right now,” he said. “I’m not interested in anything else.”

A fire swept over your cheeks and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.

“You remember what you said about me being the death of you?” you asked. “Now to think of it, I think we might have gotten it backwards.”

There was no wonder why everyone in the ton was competing rather ruthlessly for the invitations for Gordon’s gala, because as far as you could tell, the guests only consisted of his very close friends. When you and Benedict walked in, you couldn’t help but notice that you had seen most of these people at the parties Benedict had taken you to, which meant the majority of them were artists.

Not that you had any chance to talk to them. Ever since the beginning of the gala, while waiting for Gordon to unveil the painting in the middle of the room, you and Benedict had been inseparable. Perhaps it was good that only a handful of people who were more open about public displays of affection were here with you because if it were any other ball or social outing, you were certain you would have been criticized and made to Lady Whistledown’s newest edition about your lack of decorum, and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care.

This daze you found yourself in his presence didn’t seem to be going away, and thankfully he seemed to have the exact same issue.

“What happens though?” you asked, comfortable in Benedict’s arms while he nuzzled into your hair, his fingertips running up and down your spine while you looked at the paintings on the walls. “There’s the gala, and then they put the painting in a museum straightaway?”

“In Gordon’s case yes,” he said, “It’s already sold I’m guessing.”

“The painting tonight?”

“Mm hm.”

“But it’s the gala.”

“Buyers see it before the ton,” he said with a smile. “And considering how famous he is, I’m willing to bet multiple museums and collectors climbed all over each other to get it, it must’ve been sold within minutes.”

You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“And are you excited to see it?” you asked. “The painting?”

“If you asked me before yesterday, I would have been,” he admitted. “Now, I don’t care much about it.”

“You’re an artist!”

“I’m a husband as well, and that side of me weighs much more at the moment,” he said and looked around. “You know, I’m quite certain Gordon has guest rooms.”

You tried to contain your laughter. “Shh!”

“No I’m serious, because there’s still time until—”

“Did you two not come here from the same house?” Henry’s voice cut him off, making you and Benedict turn your heads and then Benedict buried his nose to the top of your hair, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you two were alone. “Was there some sort of war and you just got back while I wasn’t looking?”

“Hello Henry.”

“Y/N,” he greeted you back with a teasing smile while Benedict rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt this, but I need to borrow him for a moment. Ben, Mr. Allingham is here.”

“Hm?” Benedict asked after a moment as if he was having a hard time focusing just like you and Henry blinked a couple of times.

“Mr. Allingham?” he repeated. “One of the directors of the Academy? Are you—is he alright?”

You bit back a smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Oh I’d say he’s more than alright.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Henry said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from you gently and you covered your lips to hide your grin.

“Henry, I was—”

“With your wife yes, she’ll be there after you’re done talking to Allingham. Artists in love, honestly…” Henry said as they both walked to the other side of the gallery and you looked around, then caught the side of Margery and Lucy. You took a glass of champagne from the footman, then approached them.

“Oh hello Y/N!”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. “Um—terribly sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to thank you, Margery.”

She raised her brows and gave you a small smile. “The surprise?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a wink while Lucy looked between you two.

“What surprise?”

“Benedict had a surprise for Y/N, I happened to know a person who could help,” she said airily. “I’m glad you liked it. Consider it my apology for all those stupid rumors about him and me.”

“It’s beyond me how anyone could ever believe those.” Lucy commented and you shifted your weight, nodding fervently.

“I know,” you said with a scoff, waving a hand in the air. “Complete nonsense, I doubt anyone actually believed it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,” you heard Gordon’s voice and the chatter of the crowd ceased immediately. You saw him making his way to the covered painting in the middle of the gallery and everyone followed him.

“Let’s see the painting first and then I have so much to tell you,” Margery said, squeezing your hand before Lucy winked at you and pulled her towards the rest of the crowd. You felt someone touching the small of your back and Benedict pressed a kiss on your temple.

“Come on,” he said, gently leading you closer to the painting and you entwined your fingers with his, leaning your head to his arm when you came to a stop. Gordon smiled at you two, then cleared his throat and turned to the guests.

“I’ve always thought a painting should speak for itself rather than the artist speaking for it,” he said. “But I feel confident in saying that love continues to inspire each and every one of us, may it be our actions or art. Therefore, I’m glad to share The Artist and the Muse with you.”

With that, he pulled the cover off of the painting and the crowd gasped, a round of applause rising soon after. You tilted your head and stepped closer to the painting, a slight frown furrowing your brows.

There was no wonder Gordon was a living legend in the art world, it was such a beautiful painting that it almost took you by surprise. The two figures in the garden under the moonlight seemed to be in an embrace, their faces hidden but you didn’t even need to see their faces to know that they were in love. You had no idea how Gordon had managed to depict it, but anyone who so much as laid eyes on the painting would be able to tell this was some sort of an escapade from the crowd, as if those figures were the only lovers left in the world.

“How did he…?” Benedict breathed out and you looked up at him.

“He really is insanely talented,” you commented. “I mean I feel as if they’re familiar, I don’t get that feeling from many paintings.”

Benedict turned to look at you better as if trying to see whether you were jesting.

“I mean I’d assume so,” he said. “Considering we’re looking at ourselves.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“Coleshill Ball,” Benedict said, motioning at the painting. “That’s the garden, that’s…that’s the gown you were wearing. We stepped outside for a moment, remember? Danced in the garden?”

Your jaw dropped as the memory flashed through your mind. Benedict was right, it was all familiar; the garden, the gown, the scenery itself. That was the night where you had apologized to Benedict and you two had danced in the garden, with him holding you close, away from the ton and their nonsense almost like a shelter.

Gordon had told you, way before tonight.

The storm and the shelter weren’t separate things as it turned out.

“Well you two look rather shocked,” Gordon’s voice snapped you out of it and Benedict let out a laugh.

“Gordon, is that…”

“You, yes,” he said. “Not to worry, I will never tell people it’s you. I just happened to be looking out of the window, desperate to get away from the ton and all that chatter and I saw you two dancing and…well, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how inspiration works Ben. Y/N, I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head fervently.

“No,” you said. “God no, not at all. I…I don’t know what to say, Gordon. It's an honor.”

Gordon bowed his head.

“It’s not the last painting that will have you as its subject I’m sure,” he smiled, nodding in Benedict’s direction. “I’d better go and say hello to Allingham, if you’ll excuse me. Enjoy the gala.”

With that, he walked away from you and Benedict exhaled, still in disbelief. You stepped into his embrace, keeping your eyes on the painting and he dipped his head to kiss the top of your hair.

“You know, Gordon is a legend,” he muttered. “Which means this painting will be gazed upon for centuries.”

“So will yours Ben,” you said as you rested your head on his arm, heaving a sigh. “And I don’t know. I still like your paintings better.”

Chapter 38

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

756 notes · View notes

shubblelive · 7 months

Text

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic.

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive.

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy.

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets).

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes.

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts.

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk.

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months.

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to.

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

#wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot angst

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asumofwords · 7 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Oh lordy, we all need a friend like Helaena don't we? She is just such a sweet angel. Here is the next chapter, hehe. Enjoy <3

Chapter 12: The Red Keep

The flight to the Red Keep was quick, and you had been almost horrified when the driver had driven you onto the tarmac at the airport and up to a small jet. Your eyes had widened, and the driver had to insist on you getting out of the car and into the private plane.

You had sent Helaena some nervous texts, promising to pay her back, feeling guilty about how much it would have cost, to which she had replied that it was Viserys’ money and he had plenty of it.

It did little to quell the guilt that built within you, but you thanked her profusely in the air anyway, wifi available on the flight.

It felt weird to be surrounded by sudden wealth, Helaena never usually opting to use it and making her own way in life. If this was what she had at her fingertips, you wondered why she didn’t use the convenience of it more often.

But then again, you grew up with no money, and she didn’t. This could be as mundane as a bus trip to her.

The flight would have been barely over an hour long, and when you had landed, you were met by a sleek black Mercedes on the small and private landing strip amongst rolling green hills.

Criston Cole sat in the driver seat, a tanned man with dark curly hair and darker brown eyes, dressed head to toe in a black uniform, greeting you politely by your last name as he took your bag for you, putting it in the boot swiftly before opening the door for you to get in.

The Keep was situated outside of the city, a large estate on many acres of land, surrounded by sea, rolling green hills and forests. It was a historical site that had been passed down through the Targaryen family for hundreds of years, with almost a hundred rooms within to match. They even had their own private botanical garden with the rarest of plants within, that housed one of the oldest trees in Westeros.

It was extravagant, and you felt a sudden sense of anxiety as you drove up a long and winding path, large gates opening automatically as you jiggled your leg in your seat. The Keep towered atop a hill, red brick work looking like they had been soaked in blood in the dark of the night as the car rolled up, headlights shining at two large wooden doors to the entrance.

Helaena was standing in the spotlight, large slippers on her feet and oversized lavender sleep shirt sliding off of one shoulder. When you jumped out of the car she let you walk to her quickly, throwing yourself into her arms as she held you, soothing your back as tears threatened to fall once more, apologising meekly into her neck.

“Shhh,” She cooed, gentle fingers running along your spine, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I could never be mad at you.”

“But I-“

“-I’m mad at my brother. Not you. Let’s get some sleep, hm?”

You let Helaena drag you up through the Keep, Criston following closely behind with your bag. You had tried to turn and take it from him, but he had given you a stern glare with his handsome face, insisting he carry it for you.

The walls of the Targaryen’s Keep were tall and made of stone, various portraits of Targaryen ancestors strung on the walls, and tapestries of art from across the years and realms hanging delicately for decor. You couldn’t help but notice some newer editions to the Keep, heavy green works and sigils of the Seven Pointed Star that almost outnumbered the Valyrian traditions.

When you reached Helaena’s room, it was larger than your entire apartment. It had four poster bed with draped lavender and cream curtains in the centre, and its own sitting room. A writing desk was pushed into the corner on a far wall near a large stone fireplace. She guided you to sit on the bed, taking your bag from Criston before she thanked him and dismissed him for the night.

“I’m sorry-“

“Shh.” Helaena’s voice came out sharper, “Go to sleep, bug. I don’t want to hear another apology from you, okay?”

The way she spoke reminded you so much of Aemond.

You nodded sadly, and pulled back the sheets, crawling beneath before Helaena joined you, turning the lights off as she settled against her pillow. She let you cry beside her, and stroked a soothing hand up and down your arm.

Eventually the both of you fell to sleep, too exhausted to stay awake or cry any longer.

When you woke the next morning, it was to light streaming into the room from Helaena’s sheer curtains, the bright suns rays warming the room already. You stirred, looking beside you to find Helaena already awake and on her phone.

She turned her head to look at you, scrunching her nose, “You snore.”

Your mouth gaped, “I do not.” You blushed, feeling embarrassed.

Helaena hummed cheekily, before her face turned more serious, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You grumbled, tummy aching as you remembered your forgotten noodles uneaten and left behind in your room.

An uneasy quiet settled around you as she watched your face, phone set flat against her chest as she took you in. Her lilac eyes bored into your own, and you fought the urge to not wriggle in the spot.

“Do you love him?” Helaena asked abruptly and you felt your mouth turn dry.

Love him?

Did you?

It was too soon to tell.

But there was no denying there was something powerful that you felt for her brother.

“I don’t know.” You said quietly, and Helaena looked at you as if she knew the answer herself.

The silver haired woman shifted in the bed, sitting up before she ripped the sheets away from you, “Right. No more moping. You had one night and one night only for the sad girl special.”

You looked at her incredulously.

“Hel, what the Hell?”

“You hungry?” She ignored your comment, crawling out of bed, stretching high on her toes to stretch her spine, long arms in the air.

Helaena was giving you an out.

A distraction.

And so you took it.

“Starved.” You chirped back, though the tone fell flatter than you intended.

Helaena turned around and lifted a brow at you, “Come on, let’s go eat before the boys demolish everything in sight.”

You nodded in agreement, going to stand before you followed her down to a large open kitchen at the bottom, back doors opening up to a grassy garden which led to a tiled area with chairs and tables littered here and there. A creamy white gazebo was seen a few ways away, and the sitting area bled into a large swimming pool, spa nestled beside it.

“Woah.”

Helaena, noticing your eye line scoffed, “I know right? Talk about gaudy. Mum had the pool upgraded. Not that she needed too. It’s only her, and she doesn’t even use it.”

Two chefs moved about the kitchen quickly, large island in the centre being gradually filled with food of all kinds. Pastries, meats, breads, fruits, eggs. It was almost a buffet style.

You felt strangely out of place.

“Morning.” Helaena greeted the two chefs, to which they turned and nodded 'morning' back to her. Her face met yours and she grimaced.

You were glad she felt just as uneasy as you.

At least you had each other.

You grabbed a plate, following Helaena and piled it full of food that you wanted to eat, asking your friend where you could make some tea. Hel pointed you to a kettle, and you felt grateful that you would be able to make your own tea for breakfast. Though there was a sting in knowing that a certain silver haired man hadn’t done it for you.

“Good morning, girls.” A voice chirped from behind you, and you turned to face the auburn haired woman you had come to know well.

“Morning mum.” Helaena returned, eyes not lifting from where she piled another pancake upon her already high stack.

Alicent Hightower stood in a green dress shirt, darker green blazer thrown over the top, matched with a pair of black slacks and heels. She wore a dark red lipstick and gold jewellery, nails matching her lips.

You couldn’t help but notice a similarity between her and Alys, but shrugged it away.

“Y/n,” Her hands were held in front of her, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Alicent stepped forward to kiss at the air beside both of your cheeks, a blush rising along your neck as you awkwardly and stiffly returned it. Her long curly hair was pulled back away from her face with a butterfly clip at the back of her head, and against her chest was a Seven Pointed Star.

You shook your head, “Thank you for having me. I’m sorry I-“

“-None of that.” She chastised in a motherly way, “You are always welcome here at any time.”

You wet your lips and nodded, “Thank you.”

“It has been a while since I saw you last. I trust you know your way around?”

“Kind of.”

“Not to worry, Helaena can make sure you don’t get lost.”

Helaena groaned, and Alicent shifted on her feet.

“I’m leaving for the day, have some work I need wrapped up.”

Your lips parted, about to apologise for leaving your job on such short notice.

A job at her firm no less.

She eyed your sudden shift and dismissed you, “No need to worry about this week, I have already informed Larys you are on carers leave for family business here.”

Carers leave?

But that was paid leave.

“Alicent I-“

Her look stopped you in your tracks.

There was no arguing.

“Thank you.” You said again, feeling sheepish and all too overwhelmed with both her and Helaena’s generosity.

She nodded as though she approved of the way you had responded, as if it was the way that you should have responded, as though it was a response that had been written down in a book to be studied, ‘Duty to guests and hosts.’

Alicent Hightower stepped over to Helaena to kiss her cheek. You watched as her daughter shied away from it slightly, but allowed it nonetheless with a stiff spine.

“Behave.” She warned her, before casting you one last smile, “If you need anything, let Criston know." And then she set off with a click of her heels.

Helaena rolled her eyes, grabbing her stack of pancakes as you finished making your tea.

You both made your way outside to sit at a large table, eating your breakfast with hungry speed. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone warmly down on you, the sounds of birds was loud in the distant trees, and the softest of breezes rolled over your bare arms and legs.

“So, did you bring your swimmers?” Helaena asked, mouth full of pancakes.

You nodded in affirmation, “Uh huh.”

“Good,” She smiled, “We can claim the pool first if we hurry.”

“Claim? Hel, It's huge.”

She swallowed the chunk of pancake she had been chewing on, syrup on the corner of her lip that she licked off with a quick swipe of her tongue, “Yeah, and the boys have been having a pissing war with each other, calling dibs on the pool. It’s been driving me insane.”

You laughed softly, imaging Aegon and Daeron bickering amongst themselves, “Is Jace and Luc here yet?”

Helaena smiled, “Yeah, and they’re the worst of all.” She snickered, “Can’t know a moment of peace with those two. They’re so chatty. Not that Aegon helps. Daeron is more observing than usual which is nice.”

You were excited at the prospect of seeing Luc and Jace again, but you worried that the news of your arrival, the reasoning behind it would only cause more family rifts than there already were.

“Don’t worry," Helaena began, her sixth sense picking up on your sudden quiet, “I won’t tell anyone what’s happened, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

Helaena swiped a finger through the syrup on her plate. How she managed to inhale all seven pancakes in one sitting amazed you. She brought the sticky digit to her lips which she sucked clean.

“Let’s get changed and have a pool day!” She beamed, and her excitement rubbed onto you.

You laid in the sun for hours side by side, intermittently jumping into the pool to cool off.

Helaena told you about how her dad was doing, and from the sound of it, they expected him to pass any day now, which made you feel selfish in having intruded on their pre-mourning. But Helaena had shrugged, and told you that he had been sick for a very long time, most had already mourned his loss despite him still being there. It was a waiting game. And each morning they waited with bated breath to see if he would rise from his sleep.

It was brutal, but honest.

Warmth spread over your body as you laid on your back in a pool chair, the heat of the sun almost pulling you into a nap from how comforting it was. It was nice to not be at work, and to be away from your apartment. To have a moment of respite and relaxation.

A shadow crossed over your body, and you frowned.

Damn cloud.

“Boo.”

You shrieked, jumping up from where you lay, eyes wide and darting up to a short silver head of hair, wild smile on his lips.

Aegon.

“Egg, you prick.” Helaena groused, turning onto her side to look up at her brother, book long forgotten and large floppy hat tilted sideways on her head.

You sat up higher in the chair, looking up at Aegon as he smiled down at you, “Miss me?” He teased, waggling his brows at you.

You pulled a face.

He was in his swim shorts and nothing else.

Aegon was wider, stockier, and shorter than Aemond or the other siblings, who seemed to be made of long, graceful limbs. And Aegon was anything but graceful. His face was softer too, looking much more Alicent than any of them did.

Aemond was the outlier with his sharp jaw and nose.

“Like a hole in the head.” You teased back, standing to hug him tightly.

His embrace was warm, snug, and not at all as flirtatious as it once had been.

“Enjoying the Palace goodies?”

“Go away.” Helaena whined, falling back onto her back, long groan pushed out of her chest.

“Am I not allowed to say hello to our guest?”

“You’ve said hello. Now say goodbye. It’s our pool today.”

Aegon mock gasped, and you had to chew your cheek to not laugh, “What would mother dearest say? ‘Sharing is caring, Helaena.’”

The silver haired woman huffed, “You share a bit too much…” She grumbled quietly.

“What was that?”

A slender hand lifted and presented a solitary finger in Aegon’s direction.

His laugh was contagious.

Aegon sat himself down in the chair beside you, catching up on the both of your lives, bar your recent escapades with his brother, and you learnt that Aegon was considering studying at Kings Landing University but was undecided on what he wanted to do.

You watched as he eventually pulled himself to stand, looking down at you, “You coming in?” He asked, hand held out to you in invitation.

“Nah, not yet. In a minute though.”

“Lame.”

Aegon ran and jumped, diving, ungracefully, into the water with a large splash near the edge, though it was more like a belly flop with arms that bent downwards to enter the water first. Water splashed out of the pool and small droplets landed on you, where as a large splash crashed onto Helaena.

“Ah!” She cried, “You fucking asshole!”

Aegon came up, tossing his wet hair away from his face with a laugh, smirk pulling on his lips as he came up to the edge slowly. There was no denying that he was handsome, white teeth peeking through soft pink lips.

Helaena sat upright, “No.”

Aegon’s smirk only widened.

“Aegon, don’t you fucking dare.”

His violet gaze flicked to you and then back to his sister.

His mind was made up.

His arm crashed against the surface of the water, sending it flying at Helaena.

It soaked her in her seat, frustrated growl falling from her lips as she stood, throwing her soggy hat to the side.

Aegon’s smirk dropped.

You couldn’t control your laughter, stomach clenching as you watched Helaena jump nearly on top of Aegon’s head as he tried to swim away from her, her hands slapping at him and pulling his hair childishly.

“Okay, okay, okay!! Mercy!” He cried, finally throwing Helaena from his back and into the water again.

She emerged with a scowl, wet hair slicked backwards, “Douchebag. You ruined my book.”

“Buy another.”

“Ugh.”

“Did you see mother this morning?” Aegon looked at you finally, swimming over to you as he watched you sit on the waters edge, legs dangling into the pool.

You nodded.

“Oh good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “She was worried she wouldn’t catch you. The twins will be here soon.”

“Thank the Gods.” Helaena praised, “I need a break from you and the boys stench.”

Aegon frowned, “Who says we stink?”

Helaena dipped her head into the water, sucking some into her cheeks as she spat it at her brothers face, his hand coming to shield it poorly, “Me.”

Aegon turned to face you again, “Do you see how mean she is to me? How do you even stand her?”

You smirked, biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t know what your talking about.”

His eyes narrowed, “The Stranger will get you for your lies and deceit.”

You spent the rest of the day in the sun, Aegon settling beside the two of you, his presence clearly annoying his sister, but you acted as a buffer and indulged him in minor conversation. Daeron had joined you a while later, and you had hugged him tightly to you.

When the day grew long and you had spent more than enough time in the suns rays, Helaena took you back to her room and the ensuite joined to it, insisting you shower and get yourself ready for some dinner.

You washed your hair, running shampoo through it to get the smell of chlorine out. Helaena jumped in straight after, talking to you as you began to put some light makeup on in the large mirror at the double sinked basin.

This was something you had missed in her absence. Getting ready together, talking and chatting mindlessly, playing music as loud as possible as the both of you sang as loudly as you could. You didn’t know just how much you had missed her until that moment, and a wave of sadness crashed over you.

She wasn’t the only person you missed.

Your mind strayed to Aemond. You wondered what he was doing. How he was feeling. You wondered if Alys was back in your apartment now that you were gone.

Did she stay the night?

Was she in his bed with him?

Did she-

“Oi. Cut it out.” Helaena’s voice broke you out of your revery.

She was wrapped in her towel, cheeks flushed pink from the sun and hair dripping down her back.

You smiled at her sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“If I hear you say sorry once more, I’ll drown you in the pool.”

You held your hands up in surrender as she came beside you at the mirror, pulling down her skin care to rub moisturiser into her face and body.

“What are you wearing tonight?” She asked you, long pale finger rubbing circles into her cheek as her lilac eyes locked onto your face in the mirror.

“Dunno. Something casual?”

Helaena screwed the lid of her moisturiser back on before putting it in its spot on the shelf, “Hmm. No. Wear something nice. A cute dress. Tonight we are letting loose.”

You chuckled at her, brushing mascara over your eyelashes, “I don’t need to dress up to let loose.”

“No, but I’m not having you mope about. Got enough of that as is from my mother and Eggy. Dress up for me,” She turned to you, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip sticking out, “Please.”

Shaking your head you snickered, “Fine. So needy.”

“Yes!”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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flemingsfreckles · 1 month

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Be a Good Teammate pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 first!

Preview: You and Jessie have dinner at her new place.

Warnings: it’s angsty yall, buckle up (just for a bit), swearing, very brief mention of sex (no descriptions, nothing like that, but it gets mentioned)

WC: 5.5k

A/N: I think this is the end of this series. I never intend to make it more than 1 part honestly, but you all enjoyed it enough so here we are at Part 4. This also ended up more angsty than I had planned so, whoops :)

It was nearing 5pm when your Uber pulled up in front of the address Jessie had sent you. You thanked the driver and hopped out. You hadn’t thought much of the address, not noticing that there wasn’t an apartment number or a unit letter attached to the end of it, so you were surprised to find yourself standing in front of a house instead of an apartment complex as you had expected.

It was a small little blue house, wood fencing all around, a good sized front yard, a few trees, it was exactly what you would expect Jessie to pick out.

You pulled your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to let her know you had arrived. You had gotten back to the hotel, quickly thrown on a Nike sweatshirt and a fitted pair of gray joggers.

“Hi.” You look up to see Jessie walking through the doorway and down the steps toward the fence gate. You put your phone back in your pocket, not needing to let her know you were here anymore. She reached the gate, unlatched it and held it open for you to come inside. You notice that she quickly looks you up and down as you walk through into her front yard. You can’t help but do the same to her.

Jessie’s hair was down, still slightly wet from her postgame shower, she was wearing a lavender colored long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She looked cozy, as if she was ready to cuddle up on the couch for the evening like she had mentioned wanting to do.

“You bought a house?” Your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but ask.

“Yeah, I did. I lived with Janine and her fiancé for the first few weeks while I looked at places, and then I had to leave for the gold cup and I just couldn’t find any apartment that felt like home. I started looking at houses instead once I got back. This was actually the first one I saw and I really liked it. It’s not too big, which works since it’s just me right now but has some room if I need it in the future.” Your brain wanders to the thought of Jessie having her own kids in the future, you knew she wanted them and you had seen how good she was with kids over the years.

“Plus I figured even if I’m only here for a couple years, I can keep the house. It’s only been a few weeks but I love the area. I'd consider coming back here to settle when soccer is over.” She opened the front door, stepping back to let you walk in first.

You slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat next to the door where Jessie’s shoes lay neatly in a row. Looking up you realize you're standing in her living room, there’s a large gray couch, a small table in front of it, a tv, a bookshelf that’s filled with books and art and other trinkets.

“You can keep a plant alive now?” You tease her as you see she has a variety of green plants. In college you had watched her become what you described as a serial killer of plants.

“I’m getting better. A lot of them were housewarming gifts from my teammates so I maybe just haven't had enough time to kill them.”

Stepping out of the entryway you walk over to her bookshelf, looking at the various titles, there’s a couple photos placed on the bookshelf, one with her parents after she had won the gold medal, one of her and her Chelsea teammates holding up a couple trophies, one of her and her siblings all wearing matching Christmas pajamas. The opening to the kitchen was just to your right, you step in its direction before turning to look at Jessie who was following closely behind you.

“Can I see the kitchen?” You don’t want to invade her privacy by inviting yourself to take a tour of her place.

As if she read your mind she gestures her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Go ahead, I can just give you the whole tour now while we wait for the food, it should be on its way by now. I was also thinking we can watch the Angel City and Orlando game, only if you want it should be on at 7. ” She looks at the clock mounted on the wall.

“Yeah that sounds good.” You reply as you step into the kitchen.

Her kitchen was cute, the same wood accent from the outside of the house scattered throughout. She offered you an ice pack for your nose as you stood looking at her fridge. You declined, having just taken the pain meds, it was bearable pain.

As you continue to move through her house Jessie makes a few comments here and there about what she liked about the house so much, the wood flooring, the large windows that let in natural light, the little nook that she had set up to be a place to read. Hearing her talk about the little things, paint colors, furniture was so simple and yet it made you feel like you were back to your old friendship. The simple minded discussions, the joking around, all the tiny moments you would have with her, it hit you how much you really missed just her existence and company.

You get to two closed doors at the end of the hallway, you point at the one closest to you and look back at Jessie.

“Linen closet, nothing exciting unless you want to see towels.” You move your finger to point at the other. “My bedroom.”

“Oh,” You’re not sure what to say, the closed door seemed like an obvious sign to not go in. Jessie again, able to tell what was running through your head, speaks up.

“You can go in, I just close the door out of habit. I don’t have anything to hide.” Wanting to see her bedroom, you push open the door. It reminds you a little bit of her bedroom in your college apartment. Not much as far as decor, just a few special things on display throughout. Her bed in the center of the room, a nightstand on one side.

“Sorry it’s still a mess in here, I haven’t had a ton of time to dedicate to unpacking and I was more focused on the rooms everyone else would see.” You look around, trying to find the mess she was referring to. Her bed was made, no clothes scattered across the floor, no pile of clean laundry to be put away, no water bottles on bedsides, not even dust, just a few boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the one on top open as if she had been in the middle of unpacking when you had arrived.

“If this is what you consider a mess, we have completely different standards of mess.” You let out a laugh, Jessie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile and slow nod.

You’re interrupted by her phone ringing, she picks it up and before answering the call she points around the corner. “If you want to see my bathroom, it's through the closet. I’ll be right back.”

She walks out of the room and you hear her answer the call. You take a second look around her bedroom, looking at the couple of personal items that were scattered, photos of her and her Canada teammates, photos of her family, photos of skylines and nature that you assume she had taken. She has her array of cameras all neatly set on a shelf, displaying them. Making your way over to her closet you walk through to peek into her bathroom. It looked like a bathroom, nothing too special about it, a shower, toilet, a vanity with two sinks, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and other bathroom things just placed neatly around one side.

You turn back to go wait in her bedroom being done looking at the bathroom. You walk into her closet, taking a quick glance around, the closet had more boxes in it than unpacked clothing items. Each box was neatly labeled, varying in sizes, all stacked on top of one another. You look at what clothes she had unpacked, it was nearly all clothes for training, one pile had clothes with the maple leaf and the name Canada across them, the other a mix of red, green, some blue, with the thorn’s logo and Portland across them. Looking back toward the exit of the closet your eye catches on a box, more specifically the label of the box catches your eye.

It was a box with your name on it. Printed carefully along the side, in Jessie’s handwriting. You could feel your heart begin to race. You couldn’t move, your eyes staring, your own name looking back at you. Why did she have a box with your name on it?

“Foods here.” You didn’t even hear Jessie coming, the sound of your blood rushing through your ears muffling outside noises. She comes around the corner, you quickly look away, not wanting her to see you and think you were snooping through her stuff. You weren’t, but you could see how it could look suspicious, but then again she was the one with a box labeled for you. She must’ve seen your sudden movement as she looks at you with a questioning look, then at where the box sat, you see the moment she knows you’ve seen the box. Her eyes widen and dart back to you. You expect her to say something, she does, just not about the box.

“It’s on the kitchen table.” Her face returns to a relaxed state, almost emotionless.

“Perfect.” Mirroring her behavior you decide maybe you’ll both just pretend that box doesn’t exist. Maybe you’ll just let it eat away at you for years, just like you had done with your feelings for the girl. You follow her out of the closet and bedroom back down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You both make a plate, grab a water, and sit down at her kitchen table. She sits first and you’re then forced to make the choice between sitting next to her or across from her. You decide on sitting across, hoping she doesn’t judge your choice. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the sound of silverware. Jessie keeps her eyes down, looking very interested in the plate of food sitting before her. You knew it was going to be awkward, seeing her in a non-football setting for the first time in so long, you were prepared for the small talk, asking about your family, your friends, the weather, you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. Both of you sitting here thinking about that box brought a whole different level of unexpected discomfort, it was making you itch.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you having a box with another girl's name on it?” Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the question come out, you quickly kick yourself for asking that way, bringing her girlfriend into this conversation. Jessie picks up her head and puts her fork down.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” Choosing the wrong time to take a sip from your glass you choke slightly causing a coughing fit. Jessie just looks at you as you try to calm down. Once you stop coughing she continues muttering the words, “and she actually did mind. A lot.”

Your brain is spinning, you heard her keep talking but your mind kept repeating the words she had spoken “not my girlfriend anymore”.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you split.” You now feel guilty for bringing up the girl.

“Of course you didn’t, you stopped talking to me, you didn’t get to have the privilege of knowing that we split.” Her tone of voice was shifting, becoming annoyed. Wanting to ask more but also not wanting to pry on a relationship you barely knew about.

“Why didn’t you just get rid of the stuff? If that would’ve made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses looking down at her hands. “I mean I do, it’s,” she sighs. “To be fair it wasn’t just the box, she had always been a little suspicious of our relationship, I told her the truth, that there’s never been anything between us, we didn’t have a history. And she believed me, I think, at least at the start. But then when you stopped talking to me, she’d catch me watching your games, checking up on you, looking at old photos of us, and she eventually found some clothing of yours that I had put away, along with the notes we used to write each other, the birthday cards, the Polaroids, everything. I wasn’t intentionally hiding but it was out of sight out of mind for me. I didn’t need the constant reminder that I had been dumped by my best friend. She again made the assumption that we had dated, or at least had slept together. She read the letters claiming friends to talk to each other in that manner. That was just the start of the mess.”

Nodding along to her story, you try to show her you’re paying attention, and you were, it was just hard when your mind was drifting to a hundred different thoughts.

“And then the rumors started about my transfer. I hadn’t told her about it, I hadn't even mentioned the idea of leaving London. I wasn’t even sure it was going to go through, it was a lot of money for Portland and I was waiting on visas and medical and all that bureaucracy and we got into an argument about it. She accused me of moving for the wrong reasons, she brought up you.” Jessie pauses for a minute as if to collect her thoughts before she continues.

“ I then said some things about you I shouldn’t have said to her and then it was over with her shortly after.” The volume of her voice drops as she rushed her words at the end of her sentence.

“You could’ve just thrown it all out at the start, if that would’ve fixed things with her, I wouldn’t have known.” Your statement is true, you didn’t even know she had kept all those things you wouldn’t have known if she had gotten rid of them.

“It wasn’t that easy, I know we weren’t talking, and like I said we weren’t even friends, but fuck I missed you so much. You were my best friend for nearly 5 years, only to get dropped without a reason and I was mad at you, sure but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of that box of stuff.”

“There was a reason, I hope you know that.”

“Well you didn't give me a reason, if you just would’ve told me I could’ve fixed it or apologized or something. Instead I just had to sit and run through every decision I had ever made questioning where I went wrong with you, what I did to hurt you.” You can see tears welding in her eyes as she continues to stare at you, despite the tears, her eyes are cold and make you feel tiny under her gaze.

You stayed sitting, staring back at her, having no clue on what to say to her, stuck between wanting to apologize and also wanting to yell back at her. You silence allows her to continue.

“I would’ve done anything to have you back in my life, all you had to do was ask, but it felt like you wanted nothing to do with me. And that fucking hurt.” Her fist comes down hard on the table, it startles you, making you sit back away from where you had been leaning against the table. You cross your arms as you sit back and bow your head to stare down.

“I couldn’t ask.” It comes out quiet, from your mouth almost as if it was an accident.

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask you to fix it, it wouldn’t have been fair.” Speaking louder you bring your head back up to look at her.

Now it’s her turn to say nothing. She looks from you to where her hands sat on the table. She just waits, giving you the space to give her more information. You know you owe her the explanation, what you don’t expect is the word vomit that comes out once you start.

“I couldn’t ask you to break up with her, I couldn’t tell you I was jealous of her, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you those things, you seemed so happy with her, it wouldn’t have been fair. I had my chance for 4 years before she existed to tell you and I didn’t, but I also couldn’t stand seeing you so happy with her, it tore me apart, I wanted you to be happy and you were. It just sucked that you were happy with someone else. It sucked trying to be a supportive friend, I hated having to hear about your dates, and hearing about your first kiss, and I really hated having to hear all about the first time you two fucked.” The last word coming off with extra emphasis, the memory of her call to you after their night together briefly plays in your mind, only making you more upset.

“I hated it Jessie, but I sat through it for as long as I could because I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be a good friend to you. I wanted to still be your best friend but I couldn’t and all I wanted was for her to no longer exist. I started to think horrible things about her and your relationship and that’s when I knew I needed to take a step back for my own health. I was no longer being a good friend to you. So I stepped back.” Your voice was loud, you were slightly out of breath barely stopping between words as you yelled across toward her, you’re not sure why you were yelling, you weren’t trying to yell at her. It wasn’t her fault she had found someone to make her happy that wasn’t you. But the past year of frustration had built and built and unfortunately this was the time the wall broke, and here you were practically shouting at Jessie across her own kitchen table.

Jessie doesn’t say anything. She stands up from the table, the sound of her chair scraping the floor was the only noise in an otherwise silent room. Grabbing her own empty plate and then extending her hand she offers to take yours. You pass it to her. She walks them over to the sink, putting them down, running the water over them. You stand up, not wanting to feel like a terrible house guest, you start packing the leftovers back up. You open the fridge door and place them inside. The water shuts off and Jessie puts the plates on a mat to dry. She walks past you, not saying anything as she moves into the living room. You hear the noise of the couch, assuming she has sat down you take a few steps toward the other room.

She’s sitting on the couch, bent over with her head in her hands. Her thumb is rubbing against her temple and she’s bouncing her knees. Leaning against the doorway you stay quiet, you feel bad for yelling at her, seeing her overwhelmed like this because of you, tugged on your heart. You wanted to rush to her side and hug her but you also knew that would probably be the worst thing you could do. You stayed put, leaned against the wall just watching her. She lets out a large breath and then sits up.

“What?”

“I didn’t,” you shake your head, not sure what she’s asking. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you look like you want to, so what? Just say it. Don’t be a coward again.” Her words are harsh, insulting you in a way she hadn’t ever before. To be fair to her you realized you had also never yelled at her before either.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Hiding your feelings for 6 whole years, 5 of those years when we were best friends feels a little cowardly, but that’s just my opinion.” You hadn’t seen Jessie like this often, especially towards you, she was almost being mean, not caring what she said to you or how she was saying it.

“Fine, what did you say about me to her? Before you broke up, you said that you said stuff to her about me that you shouldn’t have. What did you say?” You can’t help but ask, the question of what she had said had been sitting in your brain since she mentioned it.

When Jessie doesn’t respond right away you push her. “Don’t be a coward.” You mock her tone from earlier using her own words. She rolls her eyes at you.

“She accused me of moving to try and be closer to you, she said I wanted to rekindle our relationship. And by that point I couldn’t take her nagging about you anymore and so I was honest with her. I told her the reason I had kept all of your stuff, the reason I checked up on you, the reason I would look at old photos of us, even though you didn’t care about me anymore. I had to tell her my memories of you were comforting for me.” She looks you in the eyes for a second before looking down at her hands.

“Those memories felt like home, that you felt like home. And I then had to tell her that was something I had never felt with her.”

You’re not sure how to respond, trying to process all of Jessie’s words before saying anything back to her. You move off the wall and sit down on the couch, putting some distance between where you both sat.

“Naturally, admitting having feelings for someone else to your current partner doesn’t go over well so that was the end of that.” She mumbles as you sit down.

“You have feelings for me?” Maybe you had heard her wrong, doubting that this conversation was actually happening. She slowly blinks at you.

“Did they check you for a concussion after the hit?” Her question only confuses you more.

“What?”

“Oh my god.” Jessie throws her hands up. “Yes, I have feelings for you. That’s what I just said, I just didn’t really know that they were those kinds of feelings until you stopped talking to me and I realized how important you were and that it felt like I was missing a part of me that no one besides you could fill. And then I had her, and that was fine for a little bit, but she wasn’t you.”

You have half a thought to call her out, call her a coward the way she had to you for hiding her own feelings, but decide against it.

The silence takes over the room, you’re not sure what to say to her. What do you say to someone you’ve been secretly in love with for 5 years when they finally admit they want you back? Where do you even start to make up for the time you both wasted? Where do you go from this conversation?

Thankfully you don’t have to figure it out at that moment as both your phone and Jessie’s vibrate and light up, both of you reviving the notification that the Angel City and Orlando game was set to start.

Jessie looks up from reading the notification, “Do you still want to watch the game? I understand if you don’t, I probably wouldn’t want to stay around someone who called me a coward.”

“I want to stay, if that’s okay. You can yell at me and call me whatever, but just being around you has really made me realize how much I’ve missed your company. So, I’d like to stay if you’ll let me?”

“Of course.” She reaches for the remote on her coffee table and points it toward the tv turning it on.

“Can I get that ice pack you offered earlier?” No longer caught up in the intense conversation you feel the pain from your nose starting to return in full force. Jessie tosses the tv remote in your direction and hops up from the couch immediately, rushing to her freezer. She comes back with an ice pack, a bag of frozen veggies, a towel, and a bottle of pain meds.

“Do you want to just sit and hold it or lay down? I can get you a different pillow. I brought the towel in case the direct ice is too cold. And if you want these.” She gives the bottle of medicine a shake. “I also wasn’t sure if the ice pack would sit nicely on your face so I got this.” She holds out the package of frozen vegetables to you.

“Yeah that’ll actually probably work best.” You take it from her hand. “Thanks.” You add. She placed the pain meds on the coffee table and leaves to put the other ice pack back in the freezer. You use the remote to find the game, and Jessie returns as they commentators start talking about the starting lineups for each side.

When Jessie sits down you notice she sits a lot closer to you then the two of you had been before. Your hips and thighs are only inches apart. She leans back and puts her feet up onto the table.

You both sit in what is now a more comfortable silence, watching the game. You both make comments here and there about footwork, ball movement, passes, shots, critiquing and complementing the players. At halftime Jessie stands up, takes the now thawed bag of vegetables from you and brings it back to the freezer. She comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and waters.

When she sits back down, she closes the gap between the two of you. The outside of her leg now resting against the outside of yours. She places the popcorn bowl so that it rests on both of you. Jessie leans back to rest against the back of the couch and you do the same. The game starts back up again, you both focusing your attention back to the tv.

It only takes 5 minutes into the second half for you to feel Jessie shift in her seat. She’s moving only slightly but being hyper aware that she’s pressed up against you, you can’t help but notice her movements. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her lean her head over, placing it to rest on your shoulder, leaving her body more forcefully against yours. Your whole body tenses, not wanting to move and disturb her.

You stay like this for a couple minutes. Deciding you couldn’t let her make all the moves you glance down to see Jessie’s hands resting on top of each of her thighs. You place your own hands in the same position, then move the one closest to her, in her direction. You move just as slow as she had until your pinky finger is hovering just over hers. You slowly let your hand fall on top of hers, she doesn’t pull away, or tell you off. Instead she flips her hand so her palm is now facing up. Eager to finish what you had started you now quickly move your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. You wait a minute, then let the pad of your thumb gently rub against her thumb.

You stayed in that position, holding her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched the remainder of the game. Wanting more time with Jessie you desperately were hoping for an insane amount of added time, unfortunately only 3 minutes are added and the game is quick to end.

Jessie pulls her head off your shoulder, sitting up with a yawn.

“I should probably get back.” You say, realizing it was nearing 9pm and while you didn’t have a curfew, you still didn’t want to be caught coming back too late by any of your teammates knowing you’d never hear the end of it, especially since they knew you were at Jessie's.

“Right.” Jessie stands up from the couch and flips a light on. The sun had gone down as you watched the game and the two of you were in the dark without the light from the tv. She holds her hand out to you, you take it and stand up. You quickly pull out your phone and order an Uber, thankful you were in a larger city and your ride would be here in less than 5 minutes. You move toward the door, bending down to slip your shoes on before standing up facing Jessie.

“It feels weird to say that I had a really good time tonight with all the yelling that happened, but I did. I had a really good time with you Jessie.” You smile at her.

“I had a good time too, this was nice. I’ve missed you.” She replies to you. She holds her arms out to you, offering a hug. You take a step toward her, leaning in to wrap your arms around her waist as she places hers on your shoulders. You stay hugging, longer than a normal friend’s goodbye hug would be. You both release the hold on each other but you don’t move back from her. You stay face to face, your eyes staring back at her brown ones.

Much to your surprise Jessie is the one who makes the move. One of her hands comes up to your cheek, her fingers are warm and soft on your skin. Her eyes break contact with yours dropping to your lips quickly and then back up. She starts to lean in but stops just moments before your lips would connect.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is barely audible, quieter than a whisper.

“Yes.” Before you have a second to think about kissing her it’s already happening. It’s a gentle kiss, her lips just placed on top of yours. She starts to pull away a second later, but you let your head chase her lips, giving her a bit more forceful of a kiss. In doing so, you bump your nose against hers causing you to pull back quickly from her, hand coming to clutch your nose.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot about your nose.” Jessie’s eyes are wide as her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand holding your face.

“It’s okay Jess, that was my fault, I forgot too for a second.” You wipe your hand under your nose and look down at your fingers making sure you’re not bleeding again. “It’s not crooked or anything right?”

“No, but those black eyes are starting to come in.” Her eyes dart between both of yours. You both let out a small laugh and then are left in silence.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, on a proper date, if you’d want that?” You look at her hopeful she’ll want to continue whatever the two of you started.

“I do, I want that.” She smiles back at you, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay.” You can’t help but smile big back at her.

“Okay.” She just repeats your words.

“I should be going.” You repeat your words from earlier, you knew you had to go, you just didn’t want to.

Jessie moves her hand from your forearm up to your face to grab your chin. You think for a second she’s going to kiss you again but then she’s pushing your head away from her and to the side. She moves in and places her lips on your cheek.

“Once your nose is healed you can have more on the lips.” She says teasingly. The gentle gesture has you blushing more than the kisses to your lips did. She releases your face and you see her eyes look at your cheeks, the blush growing. You turn quickly facing the door, grabbing the handle and stepping out.

“Goodnight Jessie.”

#jessie fleming #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt

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rowretro · 2 months

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꧁ＤＲＵＧＳ＆ＭＯＮＥＹ꧂

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, drugs, drug addict reader, abuse

♤synopsis: Nishimura Riki. One of the most well feared mafia sons, is filthy rich, He was never really interested in dating, hating the idea of putting all his trust, love, blood sweat and tears into one person. Then he laid his eyes on you, a broken, barely appreciated, drug addict. (Riki's "I love you 3000" cover was playing in my head non stop while writing this- I need him in my life frfr)

✧♤✧♤✧♤𝕯𝕽𝖀𝕲𝕾 & 𝕸𝕺𝕹𝕰𝖄♤✧♤✧♤✧

Get up, get ready, clean up, go to school, get high and arrive at her apartment late as fuck. That was Y/ns daily routine. She's high 90% of the time, filling the massive hole her parents stabbed in her heart, with weed, Whiskey and pills. She had nothing to lose. Her parents always hated her, the reason never clear. So she moved out at 16, and got her own small apartment, a very decent one. Now she's yet to turn 18 in a few weeks, yet she's making bad decisions back and forth

She had fallen in love many times, but she always ended up getting hurt, or being a burden. So she'd turn to her fellow, Jack Daniels and Marijuana for some company. No one ever visited her... so she was beyond surprised when she heard her doorbell ring. High out of her mind, she answered it, not thinking of the potential dangers that may be lurking behind the door.

"Fuck- you got a first aid kit?" He asked, shutting the door and barricading it. Y/n pouted as she started to think "Clearly you're high. I'll go find it myself." He said, as he walked through the clean, plain hallways. Of course he found a brand new, unused first aid kit, however, what he didn't find was any photos of your family or at least parents. No sign of a boyfriend, or anyone else who might live there.

The strong stench of Cannabis filling his nostrils as he groaned. The male treated his own wounds that were barely painful to him. He walked into the living room only to find the girl lying on the ground, high out of her mind. Y/n had fallen asleep on the cold, marble floor despite being so high and having a fever, but she was used to it and she was too lazy to move.

Riki however, found it cute. He found her cute. God she's too cute, so short, so clueless, and so stupid. He really wanted to know what you were like when you were sober, but when examining all the munchies you had randomly scattered in the kitchen, he realized that may be a challenge. So he decided to stay until you wake up.

Never would he have ever found himself cleaning up a girl's home, picking up a girl's underwear and putting it in the laundry basket, carrying a girl to her bed and tucking her in. But I'll tell you one thing. He fucking loved it. He loves taking care of this girl, he only just practically met her but... he really wants her. He's a mafia he can have whatever the fuck he wants.

That's how Y/n found herself in a massive, luxurious mansion. Guards here and there, all her artwork in a big room with all the art supplies an artist could dream for. A perfect yet psychotic man who seems to be on a murder rampage on the daily. It has been 1 month since the male kidnapped her saying that he's in love with her and will even marry her. However the place was missing something she lived her whole life on...

"I CAN'T FUCKING DO IT FUCK SAKE RIKI! GIVE ME MY WEED FOR FUCKSAKE!" She screamed, crying and kicking her bedsheets, yanking at her hair as she screamed. The male slapped her painfully hard, pulling her to himself "FUCKING PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER Y/N!" he yelled as the girl just cried in his embrace "Y-you don't understand ki... it's hard! it hurts, I need them I really do- I'm fucking weak I can't- sobriety is so fucking overrated! please- im begging you please!" She cried as the male just hugged her closely.

With drawl is extremely hard, and for a teenager to have to go through something like that, without her parents to support her is extremely hard. But someone really loves her, a man who'd kill for her and is even willing to die for her. So she will put through it. Fighting with every last bit of energy she has. Riki would keep an eye on her when she does have alcohol, making sure she stays within a limit. He let her buy a vape, just to help her lay off of the drugs.

He knew that all this was all worth it. because when the struggle is over, Y/n will realize that he truly loves her, and no matter what crazy shit he does, she will always run into his arms, and yearn for his touch. "I love you Ki... I'm glad you kidnapped me you know?... I've never been love like this before..." She admitted, her head pressed against his chest, as her body was shielded by his loving arms.

Y/n melted in his embrace, closing her eyes with a smile when she felt his perfect, plush lips on her forehead. Those lips, the only drug she's addicted to and will never let herself get over. "I love you too my darling..." he said with a smile, cradling her in his arms, his head rested against hers, theirs eyes closed as they sat before the fireplace, comforted by the relaxing sounds of their heartbeats.

✧♤✧♤✧♤𝕯𝕽𝖀𝕲𝕾 & 𝕸𝕺𝕹𝕰𝖄♤✧♤✧♤✧

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thewriterg · 1 year

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♡︎𝐩𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬♡︎

pairing(s): Darry Curtis x gn!reader, Sodapop Curtis x gn!reader, Ponyboy Curtis x gn!reader

summary: Darry asked you to watch over the house while he was gone latter than usual for work he didn’t expect for both to share the night with wrapping paper, tape, and candy canes

word count: 1.3k+

warning(s): kisses, pet names, fluff, too early present wrapping, and language

A/n: —GIFs; @kitherondale— Just to let you guys know because some of you been asking, Yes you can request Christmas/ Winter prompts for the advent calendar!

Darry walked through the doorway with a heavy sigh beginning to take off his work boot with the front of his foot it was at least 10;30 at night and he’d never worked as late as he did if it weren't for the Holidays

So stepping to put his pride aside he had asked you to babysit make sure Pony and Soda didn't burn the house down and to make sure their heads were still attached to their shoulders by the time he come back home but what he did not expect was for to be sitting crossed legged under the tree wrapping gifts that were way in advanced the due date if you asked for his opinion

“I didn't know you would still be here” It was true the eldest Curtis brother didn't he also didn't expect for his brothers to abandoned the scene of the living room it was a school night Soda didn't have to work until morning and Pony knew better than to stay out this late on a week day he came to the conclusion they were sleeping

“And y-you made dinner darling, you didn't have to do that, why'd you do that?” Darry didn't give you a chance to reply as his eyes darted between you and the saran wrapped plate that sat in the middle of the small dining table while you couldn't help but let a small smile grace your lips

“Because you asked me to watch your brothers, that included making sure they didn't go to bed on an empty stomach. That includes you too handsome”

It wasn't a secret that Darry’s love language was acts of service that went from scolding you for paying some ‘overpriced stranger’ to fix your roof when he was perfectly capable, raking your leaves, shoveling your snow complaining about how you would sink in the knee high snow or how it would mess up your car tires, even building you a damn shed so you'd have somewhere you could paint and store your art.

If it was a secret to the world it wasn't to you.

“Go shower honey, so you can eat” Darry had finally snapped out of his own mind as he nodded with no fight going to find his way in the small bathroom that stood in the middle of the hallway standing in the doorway for a split second to look back at you before the light that spilled into the hallway shooed away as he closed the door

You stood from your position on the floor in front of the couch the long way down book you had gotten Pony left halfway unwrapped as you made your way to the kitchen grabbing the food filled plate from off the table setting it into the microwave as is radiated warmth just before the machine could beep you were already grasping the handle opening with a ‘click’ taking the saran wrap from over the top of glass as steam engaged above in the air

Just then you could here the shower turn off from the thin walls while you turned the kitchen lights out sitting the plate of food on the coffee table before sitting yourself down continuing to wrap presents that stood between your fingertips

“It's quite early to be wrapping presents darling” The eldest Curtis muttered taking a seat next to your crossed-leg position while you ripped a piece of tape with your teeth before placing down onto the last corner of wrapping paper

“Usually I’d procrastinate until the last week but I seen some things at the store earlier and just went ahead and got ‘em” You sighed before sitting the decorated box down in the pile you had previously wrapped lying your head down on Darry’s shoulder

“Thank you.. For dinner, and watching the boys an-” Before the brunette could continue you cut him off with a kiss he tasted like mints and energy drinks something you'd accustomed to during your years together

You and Darry had been best friends since sixth grade his parents were overjoyed when their first born son had come back everyday talking about a girl that held his hand at recess going down the slide, shared her colored pencils since he didn't have any, or snuck snacks from her tin lunch box into his brown paper bag

You were a middle class but a pure greaser at heart like your dad who married you mom a middle class women herself she passed away when you were fourteen from breast cancer as a nurse herself she knew there weren't many options she had and she was content with that Christmas was void that year the only thing you were excepting to receive from your father was your mothers wrist watch that you still wore to this day

After that the Curtis’s threaded their way into your life no matter how many times you cut the thread 8th grade was hell for you but they were your heaven your safety net Mrs. Curtis became a second mother to you, what you found uncomfortable to talk with your father you talked about it with her

So when they both passed away with the tragic car accident you grieved just as hard as the brothers you all lost parents blood or not

“If you thank me one more time, i'll skin you” You simply stated pulling away before kissing the man's cheek returning to your position along his broad shoulders while he chuckled at your antics reaching for the plate that sat on the table digging his forth in without a second thought as you both sat in silence watching the Christmas special of Charlie brown enjoying each others company.

💌💌💌💌

You hummed alerting Darry hold a piece of a candy cane to his lips which he took as you discarded the wrapping in a plastic bag

You both sat shoulder to shoulder wrapping gifts for the gang as the pile of decorative paper wrapped item got larger and the still to be wrapped got smaller

“You know, you spoil them” Darry stated out into the open as he wrote ‘To; pony & soda’ for the fourth time with a sharpie the brunette had at least wrote everyone's names three time on a box or the tag on a gift bag he still wondered how the hell you could even begin to think what someone such as Dally would like

Before you could even respond he began to feel a guilty bubbling sensation in his stomach here you were spoiling the gang, his brothers, hell you'd even hid behind the couch so he couldn't see what you were wrapping for himself and the only thing they could offer you was a headache you worked two jobs and he knew this was at least 75% of one of your paychecks

“Stop thinking so loud Darrell. I did this because I wanted to, because I love you and the gang. Everybody deserves a Christmas” He hated when you did that at times like this, read his mind it was almost like a second instinct to you

“If you want to thank me, the only payment I except are kisses” You interrupted before the brunette could thank you again which he smiled at before pressing his lips to your without a split second of hesitation or resistance it made you both lazily love drunk

That’s how you both spent the rest of your night cuddling and giving each other lazy peppermint kisses

#darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy curtis x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders smut #fluff #romance #i love you #thewriterg #2022

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writinginfinite · 10 months

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we've been caught. you might as well post it.

Despite rumors among reporters, Lewis was a master of the art of concealment. It took nearly a year before you and Lewis confided in your closest friends that you two were in a relationship. Lewis yearned to show the world the woman he loved but respected your boundaries. You knew stepping into the spotlight would forever change your life and the lives of your loved ones. Protecting them was your priority. You were slowly coming around to the idea of a “soft launch” but didn’t tell Lewis because you knew he’d hop on the idea instantly. When you would feel comfortable enough to reveal yourselves remained unknown, as you cherished the balance between secrecy and love.

There was something about taking down your braids in the late-night hours that just felt right to you. Perhaps it was the hushed stillness of what surrounded you that finally allowed you to relax, even though doing your hair felt like a challenge. Or it was because you kept putting it off throughout the day and finally accepted you had to stop procrastinating. You mostly rationalized with yourself that it was the former. After laying out a few of the things you needed to take down your braid, you took a look at your surroundings, taking in it all. This bathroom wasn’t what you were used to at all. You gazed at your reflection in the grand mirror, lost in thoughts of the past month:

Moving from your tiny apartment into Lewis' penthouse was a significant change, and despite his reassurances, it was challenging to fully embrace this place as your own. Figuring out where your things belonged and adjusting to Lewis' particular preferences was a daunting task. Lewis claimed to be okay with the changes. You understood the deep attachment he had to his home. There was a challenge now in finding a harmonious blend of your styles and creating a sanctuary that reflected your two’s shared love.

Lewis' groggy voice brought you back to reality. "Why are you still awake, love?" Lewis got home earlier in the morning after a long week. All you wanted to do was let him sleep. You tried to tiptoe around the house and quietly open and close cabinets, but now it seems like you weren’t as cautious as you thought. "I'm sorry for waking you. I was looking for more shampoo and conditioner," you apologized. You pointed towards the two bottles resting upside down on the countertop. You were trying to get as much product out as possible since you were running low.

"Oh, about that," Lewis apologetically admitted. "I used up most of it before I left. It completely slipped my mind that I needed to buy you more." For a split moment, you had a feeling of annoyance, but it was short-lived. You appreciated the little things about Lewis. His willingness to admit when he made mistakes or forgot something - a quality you weren’t used to in previous partners. Lewis sensed your frustration. "We could go get some right now," he suggested, but you quickly dismissed the idea. "Lewis, it's late, and there aren't many places open around here. Besides, you need to get some sleep. It’s the deliriousness talking," you reasoned, once again opening up the unfamiliar bathroom cabinets, as if bottles were magically going to appear.

Turning back around, you found yourself again alone in the bathroom. You made your way through the long hallways of the home, reaching your shared bedroom. You walked in to see Lewis wearing sweatpants, throwing a hoodie over his head. When Lewis noticed you were in the room, he tossed one of his sweatshirts in your direction, which you barely caught on time. "Where are you going?”

"We're going to Target," Lewis responded. "Apparently, there's one just a five-minute walk from here, and it closes in an hour and a half." His statement struck you, and a soft chuckle escaped your lips. Your boyfriend lived here for years and just discovered Target. You’ve visited that location a few times since moving in with him. This was just another reminder of the two different worlds you both lived in. Lewis thought he said something wrong, and questioned, "What's so funny?" You shook your head and replied, "Nothing, Lewis. Look, we can go in the morning, it's fine. You don't have to go through all this trouble."

"Nope," Lewis insisted with a mischievous smile. "We're going because I know how this will play out. You won't start your hair tomorrow morning, but you'll wait around all day. Then you'll end up letting the '30-minute' conditioner sit overnight, wasting another day. Tell me I'm wrong, sweetie?"

You rolled your eyes because you knew he was right. His persistence won. “Fine. Um, pass me a pair of sweatpants from my dresser and a hat,” you said while slipping Lewis’ sweatshirt over your head. This time, Lewis handed you your clothing. He placed a kiss on your forehead and remarked, “I know you better than yourself. I’ll be downstairs waiting. Also, the short braids look good on you.” After throwing on your sweatpants, you walked into the master bathroom and straight to the mirror. Lewis’ words about short braids rang in your head. Maybe I can throw some rubber bands on the end? I did cut the braids kind of straight, so I can get away for another week.

“Are you almost ready? We have like an hour before they close,” Lewis called out. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed but took it as a sign to not act on that idea.

"I can't believe we're going on a late-night Target run. We can just go back, it's not that big of a deal, Lewis," you attempted to persuade him, standing near the elevator. Lewis, rolling his eyes, responded, "You just don't want to take the elevator this late at night." He then grabbed your waist, pressing the button to bring the elevator up to your floor. He wasn't wrong, as he knew about your hatred for elevators. You would always opt for stairs, no matter how many flights there were. Muttering something under your breath, you clung onto Lewis, as the elevator doors closed. It was a sweet moment and you wanted to capture it. You took a photo of you two in the elevator mirror. The timing was perfect, just as the elevator stopped on the lobby floor. "Please send that to me," Lewis asked as soon as the doors opened.

After finding the hair products and a few other unnecessary items, you and Lewis reached the self-checkout. You made him bag the items, and you casually asked, "When was the last time you went to Target?" Lewis shook his head, holding back a laugh. "What do you think?" he replied, aware of your teasing. Just as you were about to pay with cash, Lewis stopped you. "What are doing? Don’t even think about it," Lewis said as he pulled out a credit card. “No, don’t let me pay with cash. You know stores can pull the name on credit cards, right? I’m probably being paranoid, but let me this time.” Realizing your reasoning was valid, Lewis quickly put his card away. "I'm treating you to dinner tomorrow. Don't even argue," he said. You laughed as the receipt printed out. "Ready?" Lewis asked, grabbing the bags and taking your hand.

"I think that was Lewis Hamilton," a stranger's voice said as you and Lewis made your way toward the exits.

Worries filled your mind, and you wanted to look up to Lewis for help, but you refrained from it. You feared any reaction would confirm their suspicion. "Just keep walking," Lewis whispered, tightening his grip on your hand. Neither of you spoke on the walk back to your house. You were concerned about being found out and didn’t want Lewis to know, but you were sure he felt the same way.

Silent in the elevator, you clung to Lewis, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly. You glanced up and caught him gazing at the earlier photo. Breaking the silence, you acknowledged what had just happened. "We've been caught. You might as well post it." Lewis looked down at you, trying to read your face for any hesitation. "Wait, huh? Are you sure? It’s not delirious talk?" He questioned what you just told him. You shook your head, yes, trying not to laugh at his reaction.

Lewis looked over the photo multiple times, ensuring that no trace of your face or any identifiable features were visible. He continued to respect your boundaries and wanted you to keep as much anonymity as possible. Lewis posed one final question, ensuring this is what you wanted. Without hesitation, you clicked the "Add to Story" button as your answer, just as the elevator doors opened. “I love you so much,” Lewis said as you two stepped off of the elevator. “I love you more than you'll ever understand, Lewis.”

author's notes: second one shot i've written. i took a small snippet i got from a request and made this. 1.4K words and it's not proofread.

(im working on imagine part x. sorry it taking forever. hopefully this kinda makes up for it)

previous one shot: what did i get myself into with you?

#lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton fanfics #black fanfiction #writinginfinite types #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton blurb #writinginfinite writes oneshots #lewis hamilton fluff

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silentwonderlocks · 2 months

Text

Your Own Sky- Albert Wesker x GN!Reader - One Shot

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of violence and murder, angst

You shouldn’t worry too much now, dear. You’ll soon be free of all of this anyway.”

The Police Station looked different at two in the morning, almost like a haunted house taken right from a movie set and put in the quaint town known as Raccoon City. The light mist of rainfall didn’t help with its appearance either. It stood tall glaring back at you as you stood outside the main gate. Your morning shift was long over but you couldn’t help but drag yourself back here, late at night when fewer officers would be around the station. You have found yourself doing this for two long and torturous weeks ago when everything changed in the S.T.A.R.S. program when everything began to change in you.

Your hand pushes open the ornate pewter gate, leaving it ajar just enough to walk through. Once your hand leaves the gate, you listen as it shrieks itself close. The sound echoed in your mind for a moment, when did this place start to begin to feel like a prison? You took your time walking up the concrete steps, each step felt like a sentence until you finally reached the double wooden doors. You pushed them open and walked inside, now in the main lobby.

The main lobby was nothing like the normal police stations in America, then again, nothing was like Raccoon City. It was once a regal art museum, filled to the brim with paintings, and elegant sculptures. Now nearly completely renewed as a fancy-look police station. It used to be one of your favorite things about the place, how every room felt like a discovery wondering what was originally here. Thankfully, the police station did end up keeping more of the more.. defining pieces such as the pure white marble maiden statue in the lobby. The lion statue at the top of the main double staircase, the unicorn statue next to the library, and so forth.

No one was there besides the young receptionist at the police desk, Officer Bradley. A man in his early twenties, with a short black buzzcut, and a gold hoop earring in his left ear. Currently in the middle of what looked like some random game card on the computer, Solitaire maybe? Bradley seemed to have felt you staring because his head snapped up to you so fast, you were sure he must have pulled a muscle. His milk chocolate eyes lit up slightly seeing you, you had both been pretty friendly in the short time together. A few greetings and asking what each one would be doing that weekend, nothing more than short and friendly talk.

Bradley smiled at you, it wasn’t a friendly “Hey good to see you one”, it read more of a “Hey, you should be home resting”. A sympathetic and sorrowful one. It was the same treatment you and most of your fellow members of S.T.A.R.S. The constant coddling and walking on eggshells, the never-ending condolences. You hated it in a way, you wish everything would just go quiet and back to normal but it wouldn’t. But you swallowed your pride and gave a small smile back at him. Now was not the time to be thinking about the past, not yet.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, resting for your shift tomorrow? Or should I say today?” Bradley asked in a smooth baritone voice. You swore that if he wasn’t a cop, he would be making a living as a singer.

You let out a soft laugh then shook your head at his comment. He wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t the first time that you had come into work with less than 8 hours of sleep. Plus the station’s crappy coffee while tasting like utter garbage, did its job of keeping you awake when needed.

“I’ll be fine, all of us practically live here anyway,” You responded dismissively, waving your hand.

“Heh..maybe for you. I like going home and living the outside life.” Bradley says with a chuckle and slight shake of his head.

“To each their own I suppose, dont work too hard.” You say as you begin to walk away and the small ramp then up the left staircase of the station. You heard Bradley snort but didn’t proceed to say anything more.

You walked up the stairs, turning left into the library’s hallway. You walked past the huge bookshelves lined with all kinds of research and information. Empty tables and chairs, with a few wrappers from the vending machine candy. It doesn’t take you long to get where you truly want to go, where you need to go. Past the unicorn statute, into a long L-type hallway. Finally, you reach the section of the station you have been dreading to be in every day since that night. The lone door stood there, with a metal plaque in big bold letters next to it that read: S.T.A.R.S. Special Tactics and Rescue Service.

You stare at the words that seemingly mocked you. If S.T.A.R.S was supposed to be at the top of the team, Raccoon City’s best of the best then how did everything go so wrong? The taste of bile slowly rose in your throat, you knew why. It sickens you and makes you want to scream out. But you don’t.

Being outside of the S.T.A.R.S office was already a hard thing but being inside was a different experience. Even now as you stand in the doorway of the office. You just frown looking ahead at the desks. There were nine long wooden desks, some facing back to back with the others. It was a small space for each person but they made it work. Everyone had something or a style to their desk to indicate it was theirs. You walk up to the desks, noticing the tenth and eleventh one on the right side pinned against the wall. Out of the eleven desks there, five were empty and cleaned out.

You frowned looking at them, it was only two weeks ago when your Captain took you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S on a mission regarding a mansion. The Mansion Incident. At the time, it seemed like a normal mission despite the reports of people.. eating each other. You took a seat at your desk, it was across from Jill’s and diagonal from Chris’s. Both respected co-workers and survivors with you. You couldn’t believe it was only two weeks ago, you lost five members of your makeshift family. It didn’t help that memories and sounds of their laughter and voices were a mere fade now. Tears began to prick your eyes, you didn’t want to forget them and all the time spent together, but every day you felt them slipping from your mind. You held your head in your hands trying to calm the pain.

Monstersourus. That is the word you use and still use to describe that night in question. It started normal, being dropped off to investigate only to be chased into a mansion nearby by hideously diseased-looking rottweilers. The rest of the night was a house of horrors, people being picked off left and right, monsters of all kinds and shapes attacking you from any opportunity that arose. The worst of it all was the betrayal by the man whom you loved and respected the most. Captain Albert Wesker. The man who sealed everyone’s fate that night and the rest of their lives.

Your relationship with Wesker was…complicated to say the least. He was your boss first and foremost but over the two years of working along his side.

Something had changed, your dynamic was simple at first.

You would always greet him like you would any other officer, and he would usually respond with a curt ‘morning’ or just simply nod his head. You would ask him along with the others if he would join you for drinks after a successful mission. He would always decline, saying ‘I have more important things than killing my brain calls on cheap alcohol’. A statement that rings deeper in you than you remember.

Sparring sessions with him is where the dynamic began to change. It was a late night after a rough mission, rough missions are usually ones where the team isn’t able to save everyone and in this case, it was a young kid. It hit you hard and instead of going home for the night like everyone else did. You stayed there in the workout area, just punching the hung-up bag over and over until your hand felt numb. The memory is slowly replaying in your mind.

“Poor stance and swing. Who taught you how to punch?”

You jolted in surprise, turning around to see your captain, standing in the doorway. Bemused by your fighting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his black sunglasses staring back through you. Still in his uniform without the vest and radio. Your heartbeat sped up, he always had this imitating nature to him.

“uh...Chris sir.” You respond at first, waiting to see if he needs you for something or if he is just making conversation.

Wesker scoffed, the corner of his thin lips twisting into a light scowl. His grip on his arms seemed to tense up.

“Remind me, I need to retrain Mr. Redfield. He’s getting sloppy.” You nod at his request, expecting him to walk away and leave you to finish up your workout. But he didn't, he stood there longer. Like he’s waiting for something.

“How long were you watching??” You ask him with light pants.

“Enough to know that if you’re in a real fight, you won't last long.” You stared at him with an offended expression, unsure what to say.

“Excuse me?” He scoffs one more.

“I know you’re not daff, you heard me the first time. I will not be repeating myself.” You frowned looking at him, this was honestly the most you have talked with him.

You and he may have not talked but you did notice things about him. While being a hardass and strict as the rest of the members put it, you saw him as ambitious and just closed off. Over the last two years, you had picked up on his little mechanics. Wesker is a man who speaks with his body when he’s not speaking words. How his lips twist into a scowl when he’s annoyed, when he’s pleased he lets out a smooth hum noise. When he’s livid, which you have only seen a few times, his jaw clenches, and his eyebrows furrow. At this moment, you knew Wesker was annoyed with Chris but other than that. You didn't know why he was here, wait he did...

“Would you like to teach me properly?” You ask a bit more sassy than you would like. Even if he was your boss, you didn’t like being criticized so rudely.

“If I didn’t then the S.T.A.R.S department would become a joke. I have no room nor the patience for more idiots on this team” And that was how the weekly sparring sessions began.

As the memory fades, you let out a short laugh filled with pain. You close your eyes, wiping the tears away. After the sparring sessions happened, you improved to the point that Wesker said you didn't spar anymore. That didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the routine. You grew to learn about him, how smart the man truly was, and how blunt he could be. It was worth it, or you thought at the time it was worth it.

Despite the tears no longer pricking from your eyes. The pain wouldn’t stop, now that you had remembered and started to think about Wesker. Everything was hurting, you never felt so alone and small before this. Finally picking yourself up from the office chair, you go to the small closed section with a glass door in your way. It wasn’t just any section though, it was Wesker’s office. Or it used to be his. Now it was just another empty seat along with the other five. Out of the twelve of you, you had officially lost six members of the team.

Opening the glass door, your breath hitched. Since that night at the mansion, you hadn’t stepped foot in his office. Part of you was angry, and out of spite wanted nothing to do with him or his belongings, but it wore you down to regret and sadness when you realized that despite how angry you are. You miss him dearly.

To your shock, all of his belongings were still here. All of his books are on the back counter behind his desk. The wall was still littered with all of his achievements and plaques from the departments. His name mocking you as well as you reading the title on the desk.

“Captain Wesker”

Even his desk looked like how he left it. All neat, a pile of papers stacked nicely underneath his desk lamp. A black rotary telephone sat near the lamp, which made sense if the police chief needed to reach him quickly. On the other side of the desk was a computer similar to the one Bradley was playing on. His office chair wasn’t like yours and your fellow members. His was a black and puffy cushioned chair, lucky bastard.

A sickening feeling came back to you, how was his office left untouched but the others were picked clean? Did…no one care? Were...you supposed to do that? A sudden twinge of guilt ripped through you. The more you looked around, you began to notice that Wesker had nothing truly sentimental, nothing that seemed to break the fine line of work and personal life.

Each step inside his office felt like the air was limited. Your emotions ranged from anger to sorrow. You wanted to trash his neat office, you wanted to reflect on the man who killed your friends and co-workers. Reaching his desk, you went and sat down in his seat. You let out a shaky sigh, it still smelled of him...Your hand clenched into a fist as you noticed something that made you want to scream and cry. It was small, so small that you wouldn't have noticed it unless you were behind a desk. Unless you were Wesker sitting in his spot.

In the corner of the computer, there was a tiny wallet-sized photo tucked into the edge of it. So it wouldn’t be able to fly away. The photo was of you and Wesker at the bar, you smiling brightly and him giving a half-annoyed smile to the camera. You were both sitting at the bar counter, a beer in each hand, you had your arm around his waist. Your head leaned into his chest while at the time Brad took the photo. At the time, Wesker wasn't used to nor ready for that kind of contact. Fumbled to hold you back, so the photo caught him trying to hold you back. His free hand is in mid-air.

That photo was the first night he had shown up at the bar. The first time, he had swallowed his pride and decided to join you. While he didn’t come along with everyone, he showed up later. You were so happy and slightly tipsy that you couldn’t help yourself and hug him and excitedly scream to get a photo. You assumed he probably regretted it with how annoyed he seemed. You didn’t know that he ended up keeping the damn photo.

“You bastard..you…” You spoke through gritted teeth, feeling the tears coming back.

“How could you?” You finally asked the question that no one would answer.

More memories began to cloud your mind, all kinds of memories. But the ones that hurt the most were the happy ones with him.

“Wesker. I’ll be fine, I walk home all the time when my car is acting up. I walked here, you know?”

The two of you were outside, it was snowing down awful. You were sure the roads had to be worse than the sidewalks. You were bundled up in a beanie, scarf, and police jacket. Wesker was standing beside you, in a long black winter coat with a red scarf and leather gloves. Fancy man he isn't. Everyone was gone at this point so you were just outside enjoying the last of your coffee when he asked you about your home. He let out a grunt that sounded like a scoff.

“I will not ask you again Y/n, get in the car before I make you work overtime.” Wesker’s lip turns into a slight smirk as he walks to his car. The use of your first name caught you off guard.

“Hey! Do you even know where I live??” You called out walking after him.

“Of course, I need to know my officers' locations in case it's an emergency.” You let out a scoff of your own, of course, he does. Wesker always seems to know something ten steps before you do.

“Wipe the snow off of your shoes.”

“Yes, Mom,” You joke, doing what he asked and entering the passenger seat.

Once you realized what left your mouth, you were frozen waiting for his response. Should you apologize? You weren't really on joking terms with him yet so this was a step in either direction. It must have been a good step because when you heard him lightly chuckle. You finally felt relaxed. Despite the light mood, it was quickly gone when the drive began. What the hell do you say? Do you even say anything? Maybe he likes the silence and you didn’t want to bore him. After that night with him coming to the bar, you quickly realized the next day. He had smitten you and so being in his car alone was making you more nervous than you wanted. Wesker kept his eyes on the road, taking the right roads to get to your apartment building. You would steal looks, watching as the pasting streetlights illuminate his face. How the hell could he wear sunglasses at night?

“Can I ask you something?” You finally spoke, feeling the words tumble out like a nervous mess. Great.

“Only if I can ask something back,” Wesker responded in a smooth tone, keeping his eyes ahead.

“Why do you always wear sunglasses?”Wesker snorted slightly then finally looked over at you for a moment.

“That’s it? You have the chance to ask me anything, and you want to know about my sunglasses?”

“Yep!” You said with a sheepish tone and smile.

“I'm just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat Y/n.”

“Well, satisfaction brought it back.”

Wesker let out another chuckle at your quick wit.“Touche.”

Then there was a silence like Wesker was hesitating or thinking over his next words carefully.

“Let’s just say, I like to be mysterious.”

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It seemed like a throwaway answer rather than the real one.

“What? That’s it? No way. Even at night too?” Wesker smirked once more.

“You already asked your question. It’s my turn.”

You slightly pouted at how he wasn't going to answer your questions but you understood. Maybe it was a touchy topic for him so you didn’t push it any further.

“Do I scare you?”

You blinked at his question. Did he scare you? Not really, maybe intimidate you but never scare you. He was a strict man, ruthless but he was a man who didn’t like incompetence and you could respect that. “Scare me? Why do you ask that?”

“Answer me and I’ll tell you.”Now it was time for you, to choose your words carefully.

“No, you don’t. You’re… a man who speaks his mind. Your appearance can be intimidating but you don’t scare me. You are a blunt man, ruthless sometimes but I think you do it because no one has the balls to do it. Pardon my language.”Wesker said nothing, and suddenly you felt small.

Oh no, did you say something wrong, were you kissing his ass? You noticed that his grip on the steering wheel tightened and then loosened. Like he was fighting an internal conflict with himself.

“I appreciate your honesty.” You waited for him to continue talking but didn't and you didn’t push him. Maybe he was dealing with something and just needed the small reassurance but you didn't have the guts to ask him. You believed he wouldn’t tell you directly either, you were just a coworker. Nothing else as much as you wanted it.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the car ride until he parked to let you out.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“Before you go inside. I would like you to accompany me to dinner this week if you’re free.”You blinked in surprise. No way, he wasn't asking you out?

“Dinner?”

Wesker sighed once more, opening his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“I know I know, you don't like repeating yourself. But I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.”

“Is it a yes?”

“Yes.”

There your relationship began to blossom from simple co-workers to a forbidden romance. A fruit that tasted so sweet who could ever see the downfall? It was bliss and simple and you loved it. You noticed all of the little things that came along with the relationship.

While Wesker wasn’t affectionate, he would show his feelings in other ways. Firstly you noticed how he would leave you a cup of warm coffee on your desk since he would always get there before anyone else. Secondly, you noticed he was always around you more often. It didn’t matter if you were with other people or by yourself, he was always in the room with you. The nights after work were your favorite part, just being able to unwind with him on his couch talking about the future and what office made him upset that day. He rarely kissed you, when he did It would be a short peck on the cheek unless you engaged first. The man talked more with his hands than his words. His hand often being on your lower back, a simple but effective sign that you were his.

It didn’t take long for people to notice Wesker’s little changes either, how he seemed to be less annoyed and a little more lenient with some others. A rumor going around that he had to be dating or seeing someone, thankfully the two of you were good at hiding the truth. Him more than you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks onto his polished desktop, you gritted your teeth. Your head in your hands gripping the sides, hurt and anger fully taking over your mind and body. Slamming one clenched fist down, you quickly removed yourself from Wesker’s chair as if it seared you. Wiping away your tears, you take one last one at the photo on his computer. With one smooth motion, you remove it and stuff it into your pocket.

Standing in the doorway, you glance over your shoulder. Taking one last look at the shell of a man who once resigned here. You close the door, leaving your heart behind with the ghosts. Wesker was gone, dead by his own devices and here you were being helpless. Helpless for him.

You let out a shaky breath trying to keep your composure. As you turned to exit the S.T.A.R.S area, your breath hitched spotting one of the things you have been dreading.

On the wall, next to the exit door was a framed photograph of the entire S.T.A.R.S team. Both Alpha and Bravo. A small sorrowful smile reached your lips, your fingers gently brushing over the glass.

“I miss all of you..so much. I'm sorry, I couldn't save any of you..” You spoke with a somber tone.

“Chris, Jill, Rebecca, Brad, Barry, and me..we are the only survivors. I promise you, we are avenging you all. We’ve been gathering evidence to take down those Umbrella bastards ever since that night.” You spoke again, this time with venom in your tone.

“Even if it kills me, I will avenge you all.” With those last words, you exit out of the S.T.A.R.S area with no intent of returning for the night.

You make your way back into the main lobby, Bradley is nowhere to be seen. His computer paused on the card game still. You thought nothing of it, assuming he went to the bathroom, which you were grateful for. You didn’t need him to notice you had been crying, and then coddle you like a child who lost their toy. You eyed the time on the computer. 3:30 am, damn you were here for nearly two hours and you didn’t even realize it. You sighed, rubbing your face, feeling now a wave of exhaustion hit you. You shook off the feeling, needing to get home first then you could pass out.

You open the main door walking down the concrete steps and reaching the ornate gate. The rain was no longer a mist, now actually coming down rather hard. You could hear thunder booming throughout the night, which meant lightning wouldn’t be too far. You cursed, rushing through the gate, its shrieking drowned out by the rain. Reaching your car, you get in and begin to drive home, focusing on nothing but the lights and the road. Alone with nothing but the rain and your memories.

You should have seen the signs, and the changes in his behavior and attitude one week before the mansion incident. He was on edge constantly, how he seemed to be colder towards you without any warning. You remember how you confronted him about it, an hour before getting on the helicopter.

“Wesker, what is your problem lately?” You asked after you followed him into the armory to talk.

“I'm not sure I know what you mean L/n.” He responded nonchalantly as he seemed to be picking out various types of ammo for the mission.

“Bullshit. Why have you been acting so cold towards me? Did I do something??” You ask, genuinely concerned and hurt by his attitude.

“It’s simple. I don't have any more use for you, you were a fun little experiment. “ His tone was harsh despite his calm composure.

“Experiment?! So… all of this time we spent, the sparring sessions, the late night talks and kisses. All lies?” You asked now angry, feeling yourself tear up but you blinked them away fast.

“What were you expecting? That I settle down and we would be married? Only a fool would wish that. I have more important things than wasting my breath on a lowlife love like yours.” Wesker hissed out, as he began to walk out of the armory.

You said silent at his words, you felt your heart break with every word.

“Now if we are done with this childish talk, we have a mission to prepare for. I expect you to be fully professional and not let your ridiculous feelings cause us failure. Understood L/n?” He spoke not even to glance back at you, the knife digging deeper.

“I..but..”

“I believe I was clear L/n.” He spoke once more, his tone cold and distant.

“Yes…Captain..” You spoke clenching your fists, watching him exit the room and turn down the hallway. You listened as his heavy footsteps departed away. Only when you knew he was truly gone did you let yourself cry.

A loud honk of a horn started you out of your thoughts, you jolted into the driver’s seat. Noticing the light was now green, you sheepishly waved to the car behind you and began to drive once more. You let out a sniffle and wiped your face, dammit when did you become such an emotional wreck?

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, as you continued to drive. You could feel the photo in your pocket burning a hole in you, you felt sick. You had to be insane for caring so much for a man who didn't deserve it.

After what seemed like an hour's drive, even though it was only a fifteen-minute one, you finally pulled into your apartment building. The rain hadn’t calmed down so you had to book into your building without getting more soaked than you were. You ran up to the second floor wet squeaking noises following you. Unlocking the red door, you step inside, closing it then proceed to take off your wet shoes and coat.

Home didn’t feel completely the same either, so many of your co-workers had come over for events and Wesker had been here plenty of times. It felt like being in a stranger's home that just looked like yours.

“This whole city is a damn nightmare,” You spoke to yourself as you walked down the hallway into your bedroom.

Newspapers were scattered everywhere, along with books and piles of paper of old police reports and whatever evidence you gathered on the Umbrella Corporation. One of your walls was covered with photos and a stereotypical red thread connecting locations on a local map. The remaining members of S.T.A.R.S were out for blood and you couldn’t blame them, they had played god and taken away innocent lives. You just wish you didn’t have these damned feelings, it would be so much easier to be hateful.

Ignoring the mess, you go to your mirror and stare at yourself. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were red and puff no doubt from all the crying, and dark circles were beginning to form from the lack of sleep. Jill had offered you some sleeping pills since everyone was dealing with nightmares but you declined fearing you would get dependent on them. You rubbed your face, exhaustion fully aware of your expression. Thank god you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

Your eyes drift up to the right corner of the mirror, it is splattered with different photos. All of them have you in them, in some way with different people. Some are family, some are friends and some are your co-workers. You slowly take out the photo of you and Wesker out of your pocket. You glare at it, waiting for it to engulf itself in flames. But you sigh and then tape it on the mirror along with the others. It looked so out of place but maybe that’s why it felt right to keep it there. You just hoped that Jill or Chris wouldn't be coming around anytime or they would throw a fit.

“I believed in you.” You say out loud, your eyes never leaving Wesker’s photographed expression. You wanted to say so much yet, the words never came out.

“How long have they been slipping you a paycheck?!” Chris asked out of anger and disbelief staring at the end of Wesker’s barrel.

All of you were in the mansion’s underground lab, with blue fluorescent lighting, and huge tanks filled with all kinds of failed experiments. Wesker was over by what looked to be an advanced computer system with three or four screens displaying information you didn't understand. Next to him was a huge water tank. You stood in between Rebecca and Chris, you were already in a vulnerable position, Wesker having broken up with you earlier. You had just spent the majority of the night in both mental and physical pain. All of the zombies, gigantic animals, and the mutated experiments, it was truly a nightmare. If your heart wasn’t broken it was destroyed now, bleeding out.

Wesker kept his eyes on Chris and gave a little scoff moving forward. The barrel inches away from Chris’s face

“I think you’re a bit confused.” He spoke, finally turning to look towards you and Rebecca. It’s like his next words were directly at you.“I’ve always been with Umbrella and S.T.A.R.S. were Umbrella’s.” He paused, correcting his words.

“No, rather, my little piggies.” You felt your face contort into anger, despite your heart sinking into your stomach. He meant what he said earlier, just an experiment. Wesker continued seeming proud of this moment.

“The Tyrant Virus leaked, polluting this whole place. And unfortunately, I had to give up my lovely members of S.T.A.R.S.” Chris raised his hand to point at Wesker in a hateful tone.

“You killed them with your own dirty hands! You son of a bitch!” You knew how much Chris had respected Wesker so part of you felt relieved that you weren’t the only one suffering with these emotions.

“No..” You finally spoke, seeming to be a deer caught in headlights.“Oh yes, dear. Just like this.” Wesker smirked, turning the gun on Rebecca and shooting her in the chest.

“Rebecca!” Both you and Chris screamed, moving to go and check her wounds.

“Don’t move!” Wesker hisses out now the gun raised on both of you.

“You..” It was the only word you spoke, turning around to face him in anger.

“Oh come on. I don't think you want to die just yet dearheart.” Wesker mocked you with his old nickname for you. Motioning to a bleeding Rebecca on the ground with his free hand.

“I have something that's of some interest to you.” Keeping his gun pointed at the two of you, Wesker looked back at the system and began to type in a code with his free hand.

The large water tank next to Wesker lit up showing a huge humanoid monster with one hand being long claw-like appendages. Its fleshy heart was exposed on its chest beating loudly. Your eyes widen in horror at whatever that thing is. Its milky white eyes ran shivers down your spine. Soon the water began to drain within the inside of the tank. You watched as Wesker lowered his gun to turn to the monster. He had a sense of pride in himself as he spoke.

“The ultimate life-form...Tyrant!” Wesker spoke moving in front of the tank. Chris began to laugh with pity and sorrow.

“Wesker, you’ve gone senile.”

“You won't get away with this you bastard!” You yelled at him finally finding your voice.

“Neither of you will understand.” His voice filled with awe and pride. Wesker raised his arms like he was watching his child take its first steps. “It's…magnificent.”

Once Wesker finished that last word, the creature known as Tyrant began to move its large claw arm.

In one quick motion, it broke the glass piercing Wesker through his lower stomach and abdomen. It lifts him in the air, Wesker’s body slowly sliding down on the claws. Those groans of pain and yells he let out would always haunt you. You couldn't help but let out a scream feeling his blood splattered on your face.

“WESKER!”

You and Chris watched in horror as it stepped down from the water tank with ease then tossed Wesker’s body to the other side of the lab. His body bleeding out and slumped down. Without a second to waste, you and Chris pulled out your guns and began to shoot at the monster. Bullets seemed to deflect off of it, but once you and Chris realized the exposed heart was its takedown. You nearly used all of your ammo combined but it was dead…for now. That wasn’t the least of your concerns though, now self-destruction was active meaning you had less than 10 minutes to get the hell out.

“We need to get out of here, I'll get Rebecca. Go and get Jill, she’s in the basement here somewhere.” Chris spoke going to pick up Rebecca, slinging her arm over his shoulder, putting her weight on him. Then rushed out leaving you alone with Wesker and the monster.

You took a moment to walk over to Wesker and knelt beside him. Your hand reached over removing his sunglasses, his crystal blue eyes finally exposed to you. A shaky breath escaped your mouth, you tried to hold back tears.

“Oh, Albert. Things didn’t have to be this way...We could have been..” You couldn’t finish the sentence knowing it didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t be listening or answering.

“Rest now...You’ll be alright now..” You whispered leaning down to kiss his cheek then you closed his eyes.

“I love you…I shouldn't but I still do..” Tears were now rolling down your face, salty mixing into the metallic substance stuck to your face. His blood.

Placing his sunglasses back on his face, you gave him one last kiss on the forehead then rushed out to go rescue Jill and escape this horrible nightmare.

Little did you know.

You were sure those final moments with Wesker would haunt you forever. Maybe that’s why you took the photo, you just wanted to forget what bad he had done. You wanted to remember the man you fell in love with. Closing your eyes, you hung your head down contemplating what to do now. A nice shower would probably be a good start, or you could just go and crash for the night.

Just as you were about to move from the mirror, you froze in slight terror and disbelief. His cologne…you could smell it but it wasn’t faint like how his chair was. It was strong and overbearing as if he was in the room with you…

You shot your head up, to look in the mirror and you opened your mouth in shock. In the reflection, in your dark hallway. A pair of bright amber eyes glowed in the darkness, piercing through your soul. Suddenly lightning strikes outside, illuminating your room and you see him.

Albert Wesker. Standing there in your hallway.

Wesker smirked at you, tilting his head. He stayed in his spot, his hands behind his back. Those amber eyes glowed brightly. Still wearing those damned sunglasses but now he seemed to be dressed in a black suit.

“Hello, Dearheart. Did you miss me?”

“No…you’re dead.” You finally spoke, convinced you were having a psychotic break now. It was the only logical explanation. You had seen him die with your own eyes.

“Quite the opposite.” You blinked for a second and he was suddenly directly behind you in your reflection.

You yelped, turning around to punch him in the face and you gasped when he caught your wrist and tsked softly.

“Now now, I know I taught you better than that.” The harsh grip on your arm, his cologne was stronger than ever now. You were practically inhaling it. This was real, he was real.

You sneered tugging your arm away, like his touch alone burned you. Your body trembles trying to process this new information.

“What the fuck? How are you alive?!”

“You think so little of me? I’m smart enough to not let that be my resting place.”

“I saw you die! That…thing impaled you! No one should be alive from that!” You are trying to understand how this was possible.

“So you did miss me?”

“I never said that you bastard!”

“Oh?” He spoke leaning forward, his face inches away from you. You instantly took a step away, your back hitting the mirror. You watched out of the corner of his eye, he’s grabbing something.

“Then what’s this?” He asks now, holding the wallet-size photo between his middle and pointer fingers. A smug look on his face.

You scowled knowing you didn’t have a good answer to that. You hated how much this man knew you, as much you wanted to kill him and the other part screamed for you to embrace him.

“What are you doing here Wesker? Come to mock me then finish the job?”

Wesker’s face dropped from the smug look to his usual stoic one. He tossed the photo across the room, not concerned if it got lost among the mess. He moved away from you, looking over your evidence and red thread wall. He lets out a scoff.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already.” He then grabs a newspaper.

“I see you’ve been busy with a school project.”

“Umbrella won’t be getting away with this.” You sneer at him.

“Oh, they already have,” Wesker says, turning towards you.

You blinked in confusion.

“What do you mean? Once I show this evidence with Chris and Jill to Chief Irons. Umbrella is done!”

Wesker tsks then scoffs.

“Umbrella has most of the police station in their pocket, including your ‘precious’ Irons. It’ll be a matter of time before S.T.A.R.S. is no more than memory”

“No..” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to believe it but if what Wesker said down in the lab is true then he’s right. All of this evidence would be for nothing but you still had to try.

“I dont care what you say, I'm going to take down Umbrella even if it kills me.”

Wesker’s eyebrow furrows in annoyance, he walks over to you.

“Join me then.”

“What? Are you fucking seriously right now?” You ask with a sorrowful laugh.

“Why would I trust you? After how much you’ve hurt me after you nearly let me die. After you killed our co-workers.”

Wesker glared at you, his eyes flicking from bright amber to a deep red. In his eyes, it was a necessary event, maybe you wouldn't understand now but you would one day.

“Because I know you love me.”

Your face went pale, you stood there eyes widening. How the hell did he know? Was he alive when you knelt beside him? Oh god, did you leave him there to die? Why didn’t he say anything to you?

“H-how. Did you..” You knew the answer, he heard you back down in the lab.

“No. You're wrong” Doubling down on your words.

He smirked leaning down, his arms now wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. Just like he used to do. You sneer trying to push him away but you are caged there. Did he get stronger since you saw him last?!

“Let me go!!”

“What’s wrong? Here I thought you would be ecstatic to see me.” He taunts refusing to listen to your requests.

“Fuck you!

Wesker scowled at your words, his grip tightening on you.

“What a shame. It seems my little act was too perfect. If I didn’t care for you, I wouldn't be here wasting my time.”

“I don't care! I don't want you here and I don't want to see you! You fucking bastard! You killed innocent people!” You ask, feeling too many emotions at once. Anger, sorrow, happiness, cautiousness. All fighting to be opened like Pandora's box.

Wesker just hummed ignoring the little tautrim you seemed to be throwing. He just chuckled, at your poor attempt at rejecting him.

“I did what I had to do. Now what I want is mine, and that is you.” He says in a smooth tone, his gloved hand holding your chin and stroking it. Wesker continued to speak.

“I have plans for the future, and I want you there.”

You frowned looking at him, why weren’t you pulling away from him? Damn your body, it missed his touch so much.

“What kind of plans?” You asked, scared of his answer. You watched Wesker’s thin lips grow into a sinister grin.

“Plans for greatness, my dearheart. You and I, ruling over this world and creating a new order. Just like we talked about it”

His words were crazed but filled with a truth you’d never heard from him. Yes, in the past, you had talked about changing the world but you thought that's all it was. Just small talk.

“We’ll take down Umbrella?” You asked, unsure of your morals anymore.

Five minutes you were ready to scream and claw his eyes out, now you were so confused. Your heart was screaming for you to trust him, and be with him all over again. Your brain told you no, this man would betray you again and would kill you in the end. You just wished you could pick a side.

“You may not believe me but I do have my reasons for wanting Umbrella to burn.” Wesker leaned in, his nose brushing against yours.

“Why fight it?”

“Because..i..” Your words trail off, your eyes locking with his amber ones. They were a beautiful shade of red and orange, glowing lightly. He was beautiful before but now, those eyes..

You didn’t finish your sentence closing the gap between you and him. The kiss was unlike anything the two of you had experienced before. You could feel his desire and wants through the kiss and he could feel your passion. Maybe he misses you just as much as you missed him.

What you wanted to say was that it’s the right thing to do. You felt like you were now the traitor, wasting so many nights and tears on them just to throw them away for him. All of the dead members must be rolling in their graves, and you knew there had to be a spot for you in hell.

“Good” Wesker said in a pleased tone, pulling away from the kiss, his arms still tightly holding you.

“It’s time to create our sky.”

Jill stood outside of the apartment, worried for Y/n. It had been days since anyone had seen them since that last night at the station. Jill had figured that the trauma had finally gotten to them, and they needed some time away.

Rasping her knuckles on the door, she’s put on edge when the door opens from her knocks.

“Y/n? Are you here?” Jill calls out opening the door but doesn’t come in. Feeling something is off, and lingering silence isn’t helping either. Jill pulls out her pistol and gets into the proper stance searching the apartment carefully. She searches each room finding nothing, not even a sign of Y/n anywhere. Finally reaching the bedroom, Jill opens it and swings her body side to side, ready to shoot anyone that isn’t Y/n.

Nothing, not a sign of them. All of the newspapers, the reports, and the red thread wall. Gone, as if it never happened. Jill frowns, putting her pistol away, she steps inside and just feels confused. There was a lone note on the mirror.

All it read was: I'm sorry.

Pulling out her phone, she attempts to call Y/n. Dialtone.

“Shit! That’s not good...I need to tell Chris.” Jill rushed out of the apartment building.

She would never notice the wallet-size photo lying in the corner of the room. The one of the two lovers, now reunited once more in secret.

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #jill valentine #chris redfield #resident evil 1 #resident evil wesker #albert wesker x you #x reader #canon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker one shot

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zoe-is-amazingg · 10 months

Text

You're just not my type Prt 3

Jock!Ethan Landry X Guitarist!F!Reader

W/C - 1.5 K

Summary - Ethan definitely has an idea about what you think about him

Warnings - just making out.

A/N - I'm so happy i'm trying to finish this rn. im also done wit the flashbacks sooo

Last part * Next part *

Request rules * Taglist request *

You slowly walk into school, your headphones over your ears, it's been a week since you've last seen Bryce and you're living for it. You practically wanted nothing to do with him and recently, someone else was definitely trying to get in with you.

Ethan, that is.

He has been interacting with you all week, talking to you, flirting with you, he even has been asking you about your guitar. You weren't used to all this male attention surrounding you. Ethan's friends were slowly talking to you, finding you interesting and asking things about you too.

But out of all of them, Ethan is the one that you seem to like the most. He seems caring and kind and nice. He was cute as hell, but you really didn't want this to be another Bryce situation where he ends up being a dick to you in five days.

You're walking and just minding your own business when someone pulls off your headphones and you turn around. Of course, it was Ethan.

"Ethan give them back!" You huff as he puts them on his head. You really wanted to go to art early. He nods his head and hums to the tune of the song just a little bit before he takes them off and puts them around your neck.

"Is that...Your own music?" He asks you, looking deeper into your eyes than anyone else ever has before. He had this strong cologne on and on top of how his hair looked it the sun, it was intoxicating to you. You wanted to rip the varsity jacket off and kiss him.

"Uh, yes, actually. It's just something I've been working on for the moment, nothing too special." You state and He nods. He smirks at you and then steps back.

"That's really good," He states, and you blush, what the hell was happening to you. In a minute you'll start giggling like a fucking schoolgirl. "Can I meet you in the music room after this class. I really want to hear you play in person." You shake your head, and he sighs. You look into his eyes for a moment and groan. "Fuck it, sure, I'll see you there."

You slowly walk away and sigh as you put your headphones over your ears. You arrive at art, being a bit over 5 minutes late, you were never late and by the way everyone was looking at you, you could tell their thinking the same. You take your headphones off and take your seat at the back.

"Gentlemen and Gentlewoman, I really want this next piece for your portfolio to really tell me about your emotions." The teacher says. You weren't one for emotions really, but maybe these new feelings for your browned haired friend could bring out some good work. "I want this to reflect what the past month has been like in about three to five paintings, show me your emotions and the journey that your emotions go through."

"What the hell." You mumble. This month for you has been terrible, except for the past week. Your friend, Casey, looks at you. He was a great artist and an even better friend; he calls you constantly.

"I know you're not good with your emotions, but you should really use your feelings for Ethan. Their only blossoming into new for you, Bryce was a shit dude. Ethan seems like he's good for you. You seem happier." That was deep as hell. What the fuck.

You will admit to yourself that you do seem happier ever since Ethan's come into your life. So maybe that party was worth it. "I don't know, he asked me to meet him after this class to get him to watch me play. I don't know if I should go." You mumble.

"Y/N. I swear to god. If you don't go, you'll wish you did because I'll legit kill you." Casey says and you groan. "Fuck you, fuck it. I'll go!" You groan.

"Yessss! Please do! He loves you! It's so obvious." Casey rolls his eyes. You roll your eyes and get up and walk away. You put on your apron and grab 3 paint brushes, a cup of water and some light blue, pastel purple and pink and yellow. That's what you felt like doing at the time anyway

You go back to your desk and sit down. You place all the objects onto the table and slump back down into your seat. You turn around with your chair and grab a canvas and paint palette.

You turn back around to your desk and place the canvas and palette down. You squeeze a little bit of each color onto the palette and wet the smallest paint brush you grabbed. You dip it into the pink paint, someone in the corner of the classroom catches your eye. You slowly take off your headphones and put them into your bag.

"I'm here for Y/N." Ethan says. Your jaw drops. What the fuck is he doing? You don't come to his basketball practice. You were painting, you're not packing up because you just started. "Why does Y/N need to come with you?"

"Something important has come up and I really need her to come with me Mrs Warner." Ethan says. He looks at you and you shake your head. "Sure, go ahead, take Y/N. I'm not fighting with 21-year-old about a girl leaving class early."

"I'll pack up your stuff." Casey smirks at you. You grab your bag and leave with him. You both walk in silence for a moment, you're finding the right words because in your head, everything you wanted to say was mixed together.

"Where are we going?" You ask. He shakes his head at you and chuckles. Fuck. He is not taking you to the studio. "By the way your face expressions are, I think you just realized." He chuckles at you. You didn't want to play for him, you were planning on not showing up. But what's the worst that can happen?

You walk with him for a moment and then you both arrive at the studio. You really weren't keen on playing for him. He opens the door and there's your guitar, in all its beauty. "Y/N. Look, if you don't want to play for me, that's fine, I don't want you to feel like you have to." He says to you, clearly it was obvious that you were nervous to play infront of him.

"No, I want too. I just haven't really played my own music in front of someone before." You mutter, you both go inside the studio, and he closes the door. You pick up the electric guitar and set it up so it can make noise from the speakers. Ethan looks at you and slowly pulls the guitar out of your hands and lightly rests it on the wall.

He grabs your hands and looks at you directly into your eyes. He slowly rubs circles into the back of your hands. He drops onto his knees, and you can't even believe this is happening to you. "Are you okay?" He asks.

"Fine, fine. Don't worry about me." You whimper. He nods, clearly not convinced with your answer. He hands you back the guitar and you turn the volume up on it lightly. "Just pretend I'm not here."

You close your eyes. Fuck why is the this so damn scary. You start playing a little bit to see if it's tuned. It is and now you can't waste any more time. You slowly start with a hammer on and start playing. You play for about two minutes before you stop. Ethan's jaw is wide open and shocked.

"That's really fucking good." He mutters. You didn't know what to say. He did not just say your good. It felt like a praise. It was a praise. God, you wanted him so bad. You hand him the guitar. "Sit down, I'll give you a lesson." You say and his eyes light up. "Really?"

"Yes, now sit down before I change my mind." You sigh. He nods and sits down. The guitar is placed on his lap, and he picks it up the way you did before. He puts the strap over his shoulders. "What next ma'am?" He asks jokingly. You walk over and stand over him. You grab his hands and use your hands lead where his are going.

You let him play a little riff and then stop. He looks up at you and says "Fuck it, I cant pretend anymore." He mutters and you tilt your head.

What is he on about? Your thoughts are cut short when his lips connect with yours. Your lips move and fit perfectly together. He slides the guitar off him and places it onto the floor. You slowly move your body so you're standing basically on top of him. You slowly get pulled onto his lap and you hook your hands around his neck.

Someone opens the door, and you break the kiss to look at the person. It's the one person you did not want to talk too.

Bryce.

Taglist - @idky5

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pt2change · 9 months

Text

it’s definitely you ; kim taehyung

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre/warning: angst, sad oc, pinch of fluff, happy ending

a/n: hi! fyi if this seems familiar, i posted this before on here an a separate account before i deleted it. okay anyways continue :)

word count: 1k+

↣ bts masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the bed felt unnaturally empty. you spent hours tossing and turning, trying so hard to get comfortable to sleep. and no matter how many times you closed your eyes, relaxed into your sheets, laying with no thoughts, your mind always came back to him.

you sighed and sat back up, running your hand through your hair. it was absolutely pointless to just continue lying there. and you couldn’t go back to sleep now that he has consumed your mind. you stood up and began pacing around the room.

but, everwhere you looked, there was photos of the two of you. on your dresser, the nightstand, you even kept a small photo of the two of you in your phone case. none of these pictures could fufill the ache you felt inside.

leaving the room wasn’t helpful, especially not when the living room and kitchen contained so many of his things. his favorite blue hoodie on the back of the couch, his growing collection of art supplies in the corner of the living room, the row of his different favorite drinks in the fridge. even the air in your apartment smelled of his cologne.

you put your head in your hands, struggling to keep yourself together. it has only been just little over a week since he left, and you were dying inside.

after a few seconds, you picked your head up, straightened your shoulders, and walked into your kitchen.

you decided to warm up a small cup of your favorite tea in hopes of being able to fall asleep. when your tea was ready, you walked into the living, taking small sips.

as you sat on the couch, you reminisced on the nights he did this for you when you weren’t feeling good and having trouble falling asleep.

you could feel his hands as they caressed your face smoothly and moved your hair away from your face.

you felt a lump in your throat and your eyes began to fill with tears. you set your glass of tea on the small coffee table, no longer having the stomach to finish it.

you curled up into the corner of the couch, grabbing his blue hoodie, and slipping it on. letting out a sigh, you layed on the couch.

you didn’t think it would be this hard to be away from taehyung, but the aching pain your chest grew more and more as the minutes and seconds passed.

but it wasn’t like taehyung wanted to leave. it was the quiet opposite actually, he had no choice.

if he didn’t go, it would’ve messed everything up.

and you knew that. but you weren’t selfish enough to be the one to stop him from achieving one of his dreams. all you ever wanted was for him to be happy.

but all you could think about was his voice, the way his arms wrapped around you, the gentle touch of his lips against your own.

you loved everything about him. absolutely everything.

and you wouldn’t be able to see him for a couple months.

your phone went off suddenly, and you quickly sat up to reach it. one glance at the name on the screen made your stomach feel so many butterflies, and you pressed the green button.

“hello?” you whispered, your voice almost shaking.

“hi y/n.”

and you felt tears slowly run down your cheeks, it had been so long since you heard his voice.

“hey, don’t cry.” taehyung said, his voice soft, hearing you sniffle through the other end. “baby, please don’t cry.”

“i’m sorry.” you stammered, “i just miss you s-so much.”

“i know, i miss you too.” taehyung replied with a tender voice, “but i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you nodded, “okay.” you sniffled, holding back what you really wanted to say.

i miss you. i don’t want to be selfish, but i need you now. not in a few months. when are you coming home?

i love you.

you stayed on the phone, talking about other things for little over an hour. you said goodbye and hung up, without telling him how you felt and how much he means to you.

after all, you and taehyung hadn’t been dating for so long. and you’re terrified you’ll scare him away by telling him you love him.

but immediately after hanging up, you regretted not telling him. you couldn’t help but think that if something happens to him, he would never know just how much he meant to you.

working up the courage to tell him, you began to reach for your phone. but in that moment, the doorbell rang.

you sat up, confused. you couldn’t think of anyone who would show up at your door this late.

then, the doorbell rang again. scurrying to the small hall way closet, you got out a bat you kept as a precaution.

you approached the door, gripping the bat tightly in one hand. you unlocked your locks, turned the door knob, and opened the door.

not even a second later, the bat hit the floor, and began to roll away.

you were in complete shock, staring at the man in front of you in complete disbelief.

“hi baby.” he greeted you with his boxy smile.

you could feel the tears filling up in your eyes again. you leaped into taehyung’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his arms around your waist.

you clung onto him tightly, one hand on the back of his neck, and the other on the back of his head.

and he held onto you just as tightly, burying his face into your neck.

“i missed this too.” he quietly whispered into your ear.

you pulled back to look at him, a few tears rolling down your face. “how?”

“come on. did you really think i could stay away from you for that long?” he asked, leaning down pressing his forehead to yours with a smile.

and you felt such a wave of affection run through your body. and just as you opened your mouth, it wasn’t your own voice that you heard.

“i love you, y/n.”

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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Choices have consequences

Alejandro Vargas x reader (GN)

Warning: light angst, culinary crimes, talk about past food insecurity.

Summary: There is an unwritten rule that you assumed Alejandro would have learned by now, after three years of committed relationship: don't anger the cook. You were wrong.

On AO3

A/N: I'm like, five vodka cocktails in. If there are any mistakes I'll fix them when I'm sober. Also I got inspired by @ragingbookdragon 's badass reader because I just know Alejandro is. So. Whipped.

When you had decided to move in together, an arrangement was made: all household chores would be shared when he was present, but you would be in charge of meal planning and cooking.

It was a convenient set-up for the two of you; you wouldn't be burdened with all the chores when he was off-duty, and would only look after your own load of housekeeping when you were by yourself. Besides, Alejandro was by no means an incapable man when cooking, you were just better than him in that regard - by a lightyear.

To you, cooking wasn't just a means to an end - it was an act of service, a declaration of love. And to date a passionate man as Alejandro, you showed the same passion for your culinary art.

The kitchen was your realm, and you were the regent. No matter whoever was going to be the recipient of your hard work, you always chose the finest ingredients. You loved to experiment with flavours and aromas. You had transformed an unused closet at the far end of your kitchen into a walk-in pantry - your spices occupied nearly an entire wall in there.

You put your heart and soul into every dish, it didn't matter if it was for Alejandro and you, a house full of guests, or just yourself. Those close to the both of you knew that a dinner invitation to your house meant a culinary experience that could rival that of a Michelin star restaurant.

And you were damn proud of yourself for that. You nurtured yourself on the faces of your guests when their head tilted slightly backwards, their eyes closed, and a soft moan escaped them as soon as they tried your meals. Alejandro himself had more than once interrupted himself from eating to cup your face in his hands and kiss you to thank you for your efforts.

Which is why the very words that came out of his mouth hit you like a train dead on.

Granted, he didn't say them to you directly, you overheard him on accident the previous day while he was talking on the phone. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he wasn't being secretive either. He was sitting in the living room, and the conversation was quite light-hearted, so you assumed that the topic was nothing related to his work. You still kept quiet, sneaking behind him to grab a book you had meant to start reading for a while.

The conversation had shifted to meals, somehow, and it caught your attention immediately when he mentioned some of the meals you often made. It never failed to warm your heart when he gushed about your culinary skills.

"...I mean, I appreciate the effort because it's such a hassle to cook and they do it all from scratch, but a few times it felt like I was eating rations in the field."

...What?

He couldn't be talking about your food, right?

...Right?

He ended his sentence with a chuckle, and you just stood there, fingers grasping the spine of the book. Your eyes were fixed on the shelf as his conversation moved on, his voice fading from your perception.

There was a weight on your chest that expanded to the bottom of your stomach and to the middle of your head, settling right behind your eyes. Knowing what was to come, you left the book in its place and walked back to the room you'd come from, just as quietly as you'd arrived.

After twenty minutes or so, you emerged from your hiding place, face freshly washed and - hopefully - no traces of the little angst marathon you went through. Alejandro still sat in the living room, this time he was watching a rerun of some fútbol match, completely unaware of the beast he had unknowingly set loose.

You walked straight to the kitchen with a newfound determination, a mission if you will. After gulping two cups of water to rehydrate yourself - and a quick prayer to your late abuela for forgiveness for the crime you were about to commit - you put your hands to work. You usually took about two hours to cook, but you were sure that you would be over much quicker than that.

You carefully washed, sliced, and prepared the main ingredients, making sure that the meal would have everything necessary to look absolutely normal. You were akin to an explosives expert assembling a bomb, every step carefully calculated to achieve your goal.

The light scent of that escaped from the pot caught Alejandro's attention, and he robotically moved to set the table. You stole a glance at him, finding him eager and looking forward to dinner with a tiny grin on his face.

Estúpido mimado.

A few more minutes passed and the rice stew was ready. You looked at it, quite bland and lacking some colour, and knowing exactly how it would taste. Memories from a time long past flashed in your mind and you forced yourself to shoo them away. Carefully, you brought the pot to the table and filled two plates - Alejandro's, like always, had a extra spoonful.

You both sat down and started eating. You kept your eyes on your plate as you heard him chomp down eagerly, then quietly slow down until pulling to a stop. You tried your best not to break into a devilish smirk as he finally spoke to you.

"... Mi amor?" He sounded confused, if not a bit concerned, "the food tastes... Uh... Different than usual."

"...Yeah?," You quipped, knowing exactly what was wrong with the food, it wasn't just bland. It was sick dog level of blandness. No spices at all, no herbs, not even salt. "I tried a new recipe today."

"Uh, okay?," He frowned a bit, slowly pushing the food around with his plate, wondering how to tell you that he didn't like it one bit, "it just... It has no spices...?"

You can't contain your smirk this time, it felt like getting away with a crime. It was a criminal masterpiece.

"Pues claro, mi amor," your voice was sweet, but the mirth in your tone couldn't be hidden, and ran a shiver down his spine, "I wanted to emulate the flavour of the rations you seem to love so much."

Alejandro blinked once, twice, and felt his blood run cold. Had you heard him?

"Mi amor-" he began, but you interrupted him, pointing your spoon to his face.

"Escúchame bien Alejandro Vargas," you scolded him and he gulped and shut his mouth, sitting straight in his chair, "this kind of food would've been a banquet for me growing up. The sort of food I so lovingly dedicate myself to prepare everyday is the result of my dreams and desires from when I was a kid, and you disrespected that by acting como un estúpido mimado."

"Pero claro," you pitch raised and Alejandro had flashbacks of his own mamá whenever he got a scolding, "el señor put my meals at the same level of the rations he gets from the army, which I know how they taste like and don't you forget that," you accentuated every syllable with the spoon, which was still pointed at his face. Alejandro gulped as he watched you, and you continued on, "so I decided that you will eat this meal - all of it - and be thankful for every meal you receive from today on, mine or the army's, because making fun of the meals I so lovingly make for you is the same as making fun of me as a kid who got this only when there was something to celebrate. Entendido?"

"...Si, mi vida," Alejandro stated with a nod, feeling like a little kid under your harsh glare, "cada palabra."

"Good," you nodded, and carried on with eating your own meal, "que sea la última vez."

Alejandro took a few seconds to carry on with his meal, making a mental note to bring you a bouquet of flowers in the morning with your breakfast.

#alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro x reader #alejandro cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #alejandro vargas fanfic #im a native Spanish speaker trust me

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lemontines-writing-corner · 1 year

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wally darling x reader modern au series

PART 1

authors note: wally darling belongs to @/partycoffin, please support their work !

>BACK

>NEXT

🌀 Salutations Neighbor pt. 1 🌀

A loud soft thump can make a cat go alert once they’re awake. Except for you, too busy asleep without a care in the world, assuming you were the only person in your apartment.

The blue pompadour puppet sat up and dusted himself, as he looked around your living room. “Such dull colors. Less brighter than my world.”, he stood up and tried to regain balance. Ever since he practiced how to use the spiral from his TV, he managed to create his own website to connect with million other people.

He’s seen many faces, but most of them click off once they leave the guest book. Quiet sad for the puppet, he wanted to make new friends, ever since the show was forgotten it isn’t the same without people watching him and his friends.

Once he was able to regain balance and walk properly, he explored your kitchen. Unfortunately Wally wasn’t able to get up from the countertop to look through your cabinets so he decided to go to the mini dining room table to get up from the chair .

There he saw a bowl of fruit. Not just fruits, apples of course. Let’s just say his eyes dilated like a cat as he stared at the fruit bowl for the past 5 minutes.

“Oh right! I’m supposed to find neighbor.”, Wally said to himself in a monotone normal voice as he shakes his head and went to the hallway to see a door cracked open. He walked inside to see your sleeping figure, you looked like a worm when you wrapped yourself in a blanket. All comfortable and in a deep sleep, although Wally had other plans of course.

He got up to your bed and poked your nose as he stared at you like a cat, “neiiighbor…neighhhbor. Wake up”, you turned away from the poking thinking it was the air.

What caused you to wake up was when he decided to sit down on your chest area and legs straddled on your sides as he did his dilated eye stare, he smiled at you, happy that you’re awake.

However your reaction said otherwise as you lets out a scream and sat up out of fear, which caused the poor puppet to flung out across the bed, having a rough landing on the floor. Luckily he can’t feel that at all, as he laid there limp and confused, but more worried. “Neighbor? Are you alright?”, he stood up and went to the left side of your bed.

“STAY AWAY!”, you shouted and backed up, confused and more over scared that a puppet…a puppet is talking to you. Wally felt hurt and tried to calm the situation down, “neighbor, that’s not very nice”, he tilted his head in confusion, as he did his iconic half lidded expression as he frowned.

You rubbed your face and blinked at least three times, “…please tell me I’m not dreaming….”, you muttered as you put your face against your pillow. First a busy day at work, sleeping peacefully, now another chaotic situation.

“Well neighbor, clearly you aren’t”, he poked your hand, his hand felt fuzzy and plush like. He can’t harm you? Right? You should feel scared or at least burn him with gasoline and matches, but all you felt was questions running from your head.

“Why are you here? How did you get here? Are you going to harm me? Are you the only living puppet here?”, you overwhelmed Wally with so many questions as his eyes widened, “calm down neighbor, I know you must feel overwhelmed. How about we start with introducing each-other?”, Wally smiled and his half lidded eyes went back as he tilted his head.

“I am genuinely excited to meet you, I’ve always had a interest in you humans”, he sat next to you and stared at you. Silence was in the air and you started to think to yourself, “should I trust this puppet?”.

So sorry for the short chapter ! Part two will come out soon. As a thank you for reaching till the end take another concept art of you and Wally !

#welcome home puppet show #fanfiction #welcome home arg #welcome home fandom #wally darling #julie welcome home #barnaby welcome home #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader fluff #fluff fanfiction #fluff #fluff fanfic #wally darling x you #wally darling x reader #welcome home fic

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stylescine · 11 months

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Summary: A night at the tattoo studio turns out to be more interesting than you thought while meeting the owner, Harry Styles. Pairing: tattoo artist!Harry Styles x Princess!reader Warnings: angst (especially about reader's life/expectations), mention of a tattoo gun Words: 2.5k

A/N: The first chapter is here! Tell me what you think! Also considering updating every Sunday from now on :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Ask | Read the Prologue

You remembered the brief period in your life when you had lived with your parents in a normal house and not a palace. The walls had not been there for hundreds of years and there was no obligation to keep them as clean and unharmed as possible. You had your own room, still bigger than most kids would ever have, and all you did was put pictures up on the walls, plaster them with posters and even attach some of your favourite wristbands to the wall. They were your small creative space for that time and you had been crying the day you moved out again.

Being inside the tattoo studio reminded you of that time again. While the room was kept in a darker tone, the waiting area consisting of a small black table, a dark armchair and a couch for two people, the walls spoke a different language. Red stripes decorated the wall behind the couch, but its opposite counterpart had many pictures of people with impressive tattoos on them. Different artworks were displayed as well, making you question how anyone could ever be talented enough to produce something like this. You remembered taking art classes every now and then as a child, but it had no future anyway – you were made for other things.

Another small table on your left was filled with disposable cups and a coffee machine as well as sugar and some gummy bears. You assumed it was there for the clients.

The owner walked over to the armchair and sat down in it, resting his tattooed arms on the sides. You were able to make out a mermaid tattoo as well as a heart and anchor. Your curiosity was urging you on to get a closer look at the tattoos, but you knew it would probably be uncalled for. Not many people around you were tattooed. While there was no rule banning tattoos for the royal family, none of your family members had any. Since the staff was mostly dressed in suits most of the time, you never knew if any of them were sporting tattoos.

So your natural curiosity probably came from your distance to tattoos in general.

“I have never talked to a princess before.”

You fumbled with your sleeves nervously at his words. Of course, he hadn’t. A part of you had even wished for him to not recognise you, but how could he live in the UK and not know your face?

“I have never talked to a tattoo artist before.”

A low laugh came from the man. His green eyes stayed focused on you as he crossed his legs and seemed to get more comfortable in the chair. His dark curls looked as if he had run his hands through them too often. You could now make out the motive on his shirt – it seemed to be the name of a band you didn’t recognise.

You were wondering if you had already embarrassed yourself with your words, but the man didn’t seem to show any signs of that.

“Are you not going to sit down?”

Sitting down meant you would have to stay. But wasn’t that what you were here for? The rain outside didn’t seem to stop and there was no way you would get home safely without being sick the next day.

If anyone at the Palace knew about where you were, without security, they would call you naive. Following a stranger just because the weather was bad? Sounded like a death sentence.

You hesitantly walked over to the couch and sat down on it, placing your handbag next to you. Your dress was already wet in some places and you could still feel the chill in your bones. It was warm in here, but not warm enough yet. You pressed your legs together, trying to warm up again.

“You’re cold,” the stranger pointed out and pushed himself out of the chair. Your eyes followed him as he disappeared in another room, coming back with a light blanket. “I turned up the heating, but that’s gonna take a bit, so you can have this until then.”

He handed you the blanket which you quickly wrapped yourself up in. Why was he so kind to you? You had just been standing outside of his studio and hoped the rain wouldn’t kill you.

“Thank you..?”

You didn’t even know his name and no sign outside gave you a hint for that.

“Harry.”

“Harry what?”

“Styles. But why would that matter?” He looked amused for a second, a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

“Because I can’t just call you by your first name,” you defended yourself. Rule number one: Never call someone by their first name (even when they were offering that to you) and always remember their title!

You were just pretty sure you didn’t have to expect a title in this case. It still didn’t change the rule for you.

“Why can’t you?” His voice was still amused, the smirk persisting. He raised his eyebrows at you as if he was curiously waiting for an answer. It made you nervous. Why did he have to ask? Why did he have to make you so unsure about it? Was it not normal to insist on last names even if the person introduced themselves with their first one?

“I just… I never do that.”

“Maybe you should now. I’m just Harry.”

‘Just Harry’ sat back down in his chair, but the amused expression never left his face. He seemed to enjoy this exchange and his gaze never left you.

You gave him a small nod, still not too sure about all of this. What if you were bothering him? He surely had better things to do at this time.

Maybe you should have introduced yourself by now. You didn’t want to come across as rude, but since he had immediately identified you as the Princess, you totally forgot that a more personal introduction should have happened.

“I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Do you want me to use your title or is that not necessary when I saved you from the rain?” Harry’s lips moved up into a smile again and he supported his head with his hand as he looked at you. His green eyes seemed to look right through you as if he could sense the unease inside you. You weren’t used to non-formal meetings like this. Questions like this would never have to be answered usually.

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” you shrugged and gave him a hesitant smile. No one was here to correct you, so you might as well use the chance to be treated like a normal human being. “I would actually appreciate it if you just called me Y/N,” you added, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

Warmth was slowly filling your body again and it didn’t feel like you were going to freeze to death anymore.

“Got that.” Harry gave you a reassuring nod as well. “Do you want anything to drink? Is someone going to come pick you up?”

You looked down at your hands as soon as the last question left his lips. He was right to ask that, of course, but the problem was, no one was going to come pick you up. If you called your driver now, he would fall out of bed and would then have to explain to everyone how you somehow got out of the palace. And you were sure you would kick off a crisis in the palace within seconds.

“No, I don’t think so,” you chuckled nervously. Harry furrowed his brows, his expression puzzled. “So you’re going to walk home when the rain stopped?” He asked instead.

“I guess.”

That was your only choice. You would just have to hope that no one would recognise you and would start a mob on the streets. Then you had to convince the first guards you would see that they had just missed you leaving the palace this morning. The thought alone was already making you nervous. Your fingers grabbed the blanket tightly as if holding onto it would give you some sort of balance again.

There was a long silence in the room, only filled by the rain outside and the occasional sound of thunder in the distance.

Harry eventually got up from his chair and walked over to the back room again. You bent forward a bit to catch a glimpse at what he was doing, but he soon disappeared fully. Did you already make him dislike you? Was that what most people thought of you? You had seen some of the articles the press wrote about you and your family…

Then you could hear the sound of mugs against each other, then hot water was being prepared. “How do you like your tea?” His voice sounded over to you and you placed the blanket aside to get up and walk over to him.

The room in the back seemed to be a small office. You hadn’t noticed the two black doors on both sides before, but the door to the office was wide open. There was a computer on the desk as well as a bunch of drawings. They ranged from snakes to roses and more complex designs like a mermaid. Harry was leaning against another table on the other side of the room which was filled with empty food packages and a kettle. Two mugs with tea bags in them were already placed next to it.

“I usually have it with some milk and a whole lot of sugar,” you answered. “I can put it in myself, don’t worry.”

“Good.”

When the water was ready, Harry filled both of your mugs, before handing one to you. He walked over to a small fridge underneath the first desk you had seen. He took out a carton of milk, handing it to you. There was a small cross tattooed on his hand. Maybe you could take a closer look at all the other tattoos at some point. All of it seemed so intriguing to you.

You placed your mug down again and filled it with milk. By the time you closed it again, Harry had placed some sugar next to you.

When you were done preparing your tea, Harry poured some milk into his own mug and then put it back into the fridge.

Your eyes started to wander through the room more. “Is this where you work?”

That was probably a dumb question. Of course, he was working here. You still felt so out of place, so overwhelmed by the fact you were somewhere you shouldn’t be, that stupid things like this just slipped past your lips so easily.

“This is where the organisation happens. I guess you’ve never been in a tattoo studio before?” He asked, but his tone didn’t hint at any amusement. He seemed to take you seriously nonetheless.

“I haven’t, no,” you admitted and turned back around to Harry. He had a small smile on his lips while he took a sip from the mug. “Want me to show you around, princess?” He asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

Pride was filling his voice and you could tell that this studio, this job, seemed to mean a lot to him. You also appreciated the fact that he was even willing to show you around. He could have just let you wait out the rain in the waiting room and be done with it.

“I would love that,” you agreed, nodding your head. Both of your hands wrapped around the mug as you followed Harry out of the office again. “We’re not a big studio, you know? I have two rooms for the clients. I have two other people working here with me.”

He pushed open the black door on the left, opening up the view to a room with even more drawings on the walls and a client chair in the middle. A small stool was next to it, with wheels underneath it.

Your eyes moved to the tattoo gun next. “Wow,” you whispered, following Harry into the room. You kept your hands around the mug tightly, not wanting to spill anything or even touch something you weren’t supposed to.

All those drawings were so impressive. There was another desk filled with them, but an iPad was on it as well. You assumed this was where Harry was designing some tattoos.

“And you draw all of this?” You asked curiously, pointing to all the different designs around you. This was impressive to you. More than that. It was fascinating to say the least. You had seen portraits of your family members almost looking like pictures, but this was even more intriguing somehow. A few of the designs instantly clicked with you and you found yourself wondering what they would look like on your own skin.

“I do. Well, I guess some of them are from my friend. She usually works in the other room. But the ones you saw in the office are all mine,” he explained, pointing in the direction of the room you were previously in.

You sat the mug down on the desk absentmindedly.

“This is honestly so cool. I’ve never been in a place like this before and this job… I wish I could do that,” you admitted, walking over to the chair to run your hand across it. For a moment, you felt like it was calling to you, to be a bit more rebellious tonight, to come home with a tattoo your parents surely wouldn’t approve of.

It was tempting. You had always felt the need to break out of your cage, to do anything that would resemble a bit of freedom to you.

Harry’s eyes were watching you, a shimmer of something you couldn’t quite place in them. He stepped a bit closer, pointing to the chair. “Sit down, if you want.”

You didn’t hesitate again and sat down in the chair, feeling the comfortable leather beneath you. You looked down at the insides of your arms, trying to imagine the black ink there.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” Harry moved a bit closer, his eyes fixated on your arms as well. His eyes darkened and his voice grew lower. You could hear the clock ticking loudly and for a moment, you held your breath as you stared at your blank skin.

How did the wish to go to a party turn into this?

“I’m thinking about a cage on my arms.”

“Are you a trapped bird, princess?” He asked, eyebrows raising with curiosity. You looked at him again, straight into the green of his eyes. It reminded you of the grass outside, the freedom of running through a field.

You weren’t supposed to answer this question. You weren’t supposed to be here.

You weren’t supposed to look at Harry and feel the goosebumps spread over your body. The man was attractive, confident and free. The latter was something you could never be.

You gave him a small nod and Harry pushed his stool back a bit, fumbling in the pockets of his sweatpants. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his pink lips.

“Sing me a song then, caged bird. I will be listening all night.”

taglist: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @kimmi-kat @victoria-styles @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

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