#went into it without reading the blurb and i was losing my mind the whole time
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Tired of Me
(a blurb from the My Girl Series)
…in which Harry is too tired for sex and thinks Y/N is tired of him.
Warning: SMUT, daddy kink, mention of cockwarming.
AU: older!harry (4-year age gap), actor!harry, writer!y/n.
Word count: 2.6k
.
Harry couldn’t get it up.
This had never happened before. He’d always been able to get it up no matter how knackered he’d been, and he’d always been proud of himself for his high sex drive. But now he was lying on his back, naked, with his half-hard dick resting on his thigh and his girl kneeling between his legs, staring at his manhood with a defeated expression on her face.
He’d apologised, feeling glad that the room was too dark for her to see him blushing, and offered to eat her out.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” she said and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “You’d just had a long flight. I should have let you rest.”
Then she threw the covers over their naked bodies and snuggled up against him. He didn’t feel relieved that she’d let him off without a fight. She’d been so horny and literally thrown herself at him the second he’d arrived at the front door. Why didn’t she just let him eat her out? He’d feel less guilty that way. Had his soft dick turned her off? Harry knew these thoughts were ridiculous, and yet, they kept him awake until early morning.
What if she was tired of him?
.
.
.
“I’m tired of him.”
Those were the actual words from his girlfriend’s mouth.
She was on the phone with her best friend Celine. Harry hadn’t meant to eavesdrop; he’d only come downstairs to make himself a cup of coffee, and as he’d got to the kitchen door, he’d heard her say those words. Maybe he’d jumped into conclusion way too fast, but you couldn’t blame him for being insecure after last night. He’d meant to make it up to her this morning, giving her the most mind-blowing morning sex she’d ever had, but when he’d woken up with a hard dick, she’d already locked herself in the library to finish the chapter she’d been writing last night.
“I tried to help him; I really did, but he couldn’t do it. Yeah, I know I’m a bit harsh but I think he doesn’t have that in him anymore. I’m gonna give him one last chance. If it happens again, I’ll have to leave him.”
Harry gulped, hard.
His girl was going to break up with him because he could no longer satisfy her in bed. Could it be possible that she was talking about something else? No. He could not think of any other situation where those words would apply better than the situation last night. If he was going to lose her because of a half-hard dick, he would live with shame for the rest of his life (the lack of caffeine had made him a bit melodramatic).
However, she’d said she’d give him another chance, so it wasn’t over for them yet. If she was really bored with him, he could still turn this around.
.
.
.
It was 11 PM. Y/N was writing in bed when she heard a loud thump downstairs like someone had knocked over a chair. She jolted and shot her eyes to the door.
“I’m okay!” Harry shouted.
She put a hand on her chest and sagged in relief.
Harry had attended a red carpet event tonight and stayed for the after-party. She hadn’t expected him to come home before midnight, but thank God, he had. Even with all those bodyguards escorting him everywhere he went, she would still get worried every time he stayed out until morning and was too drunk to answer his phone.
“Hey, babe,” she said as her boyfriend emerged from the doorway, leaning a shoulder against it and beaming drunkenly at her. “Did you have fun?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded and careened toward the bed. She closed the laptop, knowing Harry always demanded her full attention when he was drunk. Most of the men she’d been with had been rough and aggressive and loud when they drank too much. Not Harry, though. Her Harry would become soft and emotional and clingy; she’d got enough videos of him being drunk that could make him the number one Twitter trend for a whole month. But of course, she kept them to herself and might leak them at his birthday party or their wedding reception, because she was a nice girlfriend.
Clumsy and disoriented, Harry collapsed almost on top of her. The smell of vodka wafted all around them as he buried his face into her neck and inhaled her scent as if she was air and he’d just been hauled up from underwater.
She was only wearing a tiny silk dress, no underwear, and she knew how it made him feel; when he flipped them over so she’d straddle his thighs, his hard cock was poking at her pussy.
He nosed along her jawline, causing all her hackles to erect as one of his large hands started palming her breast over the silk. “I’m so hard,” he murmured between wet kisses.
She didn’t protest when he pushed up her dress and closed his hot mouth around one of her nipples. He pressed a hand against her back and tongued at her breast like a puppy with his chew toy. She gasped, arching her back to encourage him.
With his eyelids fluttering and a nipple still in his mouth, he pleaded, “I want you so bad. Can you fuck me, please?”
His hands clutched her thighs and tried to move her against him. It felt good. She wasn’t going to lie and say that she didn’t want to pull down his pants and fuck him senseless. However, she would never fuck him when he was this drunk.
“I don’t want to fuck you if you’re not going to remember it in the morning,” she said sweetly. Harry pulled back and blinked at her. To her surprise, he didn’t even beg. His hands dropped down limply onto the bed as he tossed his head back, his eyes pinched shut. He exhaled sharply. “You don’t want to fuck me at all. You’re tired of me...”
The accusation made her flinch. She cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up. Her eyes locked with his bloodshot green. “Hey, what was that? Why did you say that?”
“Is it not true?” he huffed, his voice brittle as if he was on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t get hard last night, and now you don’t want to fuck me and I’m gonna lose you because my dick was not hard enough.”
“That’s absurd, Harry!” she cried out, trying to stifle a laugh. Drunk Harry was funny without trying.
He slowly shook his head, his expression serious. “You said that. I heard you.”
“I never said that.”
She didn’t know why she was arguing with him while he was too drunk to make sense of himself. But drunk or not, she couldn’t have him think she was tired of him for one time he couldn’t get it up.
“You did,” he said, assuredly. “You told Cece. I’m not...not mad at you for thinking it but you told Cece. Cece would laugh at me.”
“What?! I never—”
Then, it hit her.
She went stiff, her eyes widened. “Oooooh.”
She wasn’t sure if he looked hurt or angry or smug that he was right. Whatever that look on his face meant, it was as hilarious as him misunderstanding her phone call with Celine.
“I was talking about Cece’s brother,” she said, holding his cheeks. “He used to be friends with you in school, remember?” Harry nodded, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “He was trying to get into the publishing industry. I agreed to help him by reading his stuff and giving constructive comments. He was good at first but then he thought he was too good and he started to give me attitudes. I tried to help but I got frustrated and I was thinking of leaving him to work it out on his own. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh…” Harry’s face dulled as realisation dawned on him. Now, he seemed sorry, and his voice suddenly lowered, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, by the way. I accidentally heard it.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I would never tell Cece something so personal about you. I love you.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry pouted, his face red; she wasn’t sure he was bushing because he was embarrassed or because he was drunk. “I don’t know why I couldn’t get it up. I think I’m getting old, Bambi. That was only a beginning.”
“You’re only four years older than me! You’re so melodramatic.”
“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny!” he demanded, but she couldn’t stop now that she’d started. She was doubled over on top of him, hugging her stomach and shaking with violent laughter. “Stop it,” he whined, tugging at her dress. “My feelings are hurt.”
“Aww, baby, I’m sorry,” she pouted.
His breath caught as she rubbed his massive bulge with her hand, biting her lip while holding his gaze. He pulled her face down and locked his mouth to hers. She moaned into the needy kiss, loving the way his cock grew and twitched in her palm.
“Can I at least fuck you now to prove I can still get it?” he asked raspily.
She smirked. “The fact that you’re still hard despite your feelings being hurt is proof that you can still get it.” This time, he let out a chuckle. She continued stroking his erection over his trousers. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I still want to fuck you, though.”
“Well, I can suck your cock,” she said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “I haven’t had your cock in my mouth for so long. Kinda miss it.”
Harry’s lips parted with a dazed look on his face as she drew back and crawled down his body until her face was level with his large bulge. His hips bucked as she kissed it lightly and began to fumble with the zipper. She held his eye contact as she unzipped his pants and pulled it down to mid-thigh, revealing the tight black boxers he’d got on. Harry squirmed impatiently when she started palming him through them.
“Don’t fucking tease,” he gasped.
She whispered, “Sorry,” and arched her back so that her bum was higher and her dress slid down to her back; she was bare from her waist down. He pushed himself up to grab a handful of her arse. Her breath caught as he spanked her gently and squeezed the spot where it stung.
She was so wet that her thighs felt sticky, yet she told herself to keep her mind focused on him. She took the swollen tip of his cock into her mouth before sinking her head down, making a content sound in the back of her throat once she’d taken as much as she could. Harry’s airy chuckle turned into a moan when she met his eyes. He fisted her hair gently, his muscles bunched as his cock jerked in her mouth.
“You like it when I stuff your mouth full with my cock, don’t you?”
She hummed in response before bobbing her head, using her hand at the base where she couldn’t get into her mouth. Her other hand slipped down to stroke her clit. It didn’t feel as good as when Harry touched her, but she was so horny, anything that helped her release some tension would do.
Harry growled as he fucked lazily into her mouth, guiding her head up and down by her hair. “Don’t come yet...I want to play with you later.”
She shot him a glare through her wet lashes and moaned in frustration. Still, she obeyed and withdrew her other hand to place it on his thigh. His skin felt hot. Beads of sweat were rolling down from his chest to his abs. Her mouth continued going up and down his shaft, precome oozing out of his tip and she was drooling so much it’d gotten quite messy. From the way Harry was staring at her unblinkingly, she knew he was trying his best not to come at the sight. Her man loved a messy blow job. He’d come so hard the first time she’d let him shoot his cum all over her face and chest. She bet he was thinking about it now.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his nostrils flared. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
She pulled off, breathless and started stroking him with both hands. “I love your cock, Daddy. You taste so good. Want your cum in my mouth.”
Harry groaned loudly and threw his head back into the pillow. His soft chants of her name almost got her off. As he arched his back off the bed and released into her mouth, she swallowed as much as she could, some of it dripping down her chin, and Harry continued coming as he muttered curses while watching her take all that he gave.
Once she’d sucked him clean and sat up, panting and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, he seized her by the hips and dragged her back to his lap. He kissed her passionately, tasting himself on her swollen red lips. They only broke off so he could pull her dress over her head, and she grabbed his wrist and guided his fingers to her entrance.
“This is how tired I am of you, Harry,” she told him with a mischievous grin. His mouth fell open slightly, mimicking her expression when he pushed a finger into her wet cunt. Her fingers tightened around his wrist as he started fucking her with his hand. She held the back of his neck and started moving her hips.
“Look at you,” he said between gritted teeth. “Fucking yourself on Daddy’s finger. You wish it were my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy…” She croaked and wrapped both arms around his neck, bringing their sweaty foreheads together and trying to keep her eyes open. He’d inserted another finger and was fucking her hard and fast. It felt mind-numbing good. She hadn’t been fucked for a week; she wouldn’t last long. When she was almost there, she knotted her hands in his curls and sobbed out his name. She was afraid he'd deny her orgasm, but drunk Harry was always the nicest. He told her to come all over him. She was shaking in his arm, panting into his neck as he fucked her through her release.
It wasn’t until she pried her eyes open to look up at her boyfriend that he slipped his fingers out of her and sucked them clean. He kissed her afterwards so she could taste herself on his tongue. She grinned, still shuddering with post-orgasm chills.
They stayed there for a while, glued together by their own sweat as he traced his fingers up and down her spine and pecked her hair once in a while.
“I’m not marrying you for your dick,” she said breathlessly.
He didn’t expect that, so he burst out laughing. “Thanks. My dick and I appreciate that.”
She arched an eyebrow at him, her cheek on his chest. “I guess you’re more sobered now, huh?”
“Hmmm.” His mouth curled. “Can we take a bath together?”
“We never just take a bath,” she reminded him. “And I’m too tired for more fucking.”
Harry let out a soft chuckle as he twirled a strand of her hair around his index finger. “We don’t have to fuck. Maybe cockwarming. I just need a reason to be inside you.”
She raised her head, amused. “You’re annoyingly horny and kinky when you’re drunk.”
“But you love me?” To her surprise, it sounded like a question.
“But I love you,” she confirmed, grabbed his face and kissed him again. “Don’t you ever doubt that.”
#harry smut#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles series
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Hi! Can I request a Spencer x reader with the song Fireside by Arctic Monkeys? I really, really like your writing.
Thank you Anon, I love this song so this was a fun one!
Send me a song lyric and a CM pairing and I’ll write you a blurb
I can't explain but I want to try
There's this image of you and I
And it goes dancing by in the morning and in the night time
It was strange how the simplest things could trigger such a reaction within us.
Spencer had returned to Vegas plenty of times over the years and he’d never once thought of you. Well maybe not never but not usually.
But this case had taken him to his old neighborhood, forcing him to revisit the places the two of you had frequented together.
It pulled up memories he had tried to shove deep down a long time ago. He’d stuffed them down into a little box and hid them in the back of his mind.
They weren’t supposed to resurface like this.
There's all these secrets that I can't keep
Like in my heart there's that hotel suite and you lived there so long
It's kinda strange now you're gone
Since coming back from Vegas you’d been the only thing on his mind. It had been fifteen years, but suddenly it felt like yesterday.
It had been an amicable break up. He was moving to DC for his job with the FBI and you were staying in Vegas for your teaching job.
You’d loved each other, you’d been each other’s first loves. But it made sense to end things and you’d remained friends.
You’d stayed in touch for a time but then life had gotten in the way. It had to have been at least team years since the last time you even spoke.
He didn’t think he still missed you. But why could he suddenly not get you out of his head?
He didn’t know if he could keep this to himself. He had an overwhelming desire to find you.
I'm not sure if I should show you what I've found
Has it gone for good?
Or is it coming back around?
Isn't it hard to make up your mind?
When you're losing and your fuse is fireside
Garcia found you with ease and by some stroke of luck you were living in DC. What were the chances?
But now the question was, should he track you down? It had been so many years it didn’t seem fair to drag all those feelings back up for you.
He was sure you must have moved on like he thought he had.
But what if there was a chance for the two of you again? You’d broken up before because you didn’t want to try long distance. But now you lived in the same city. Surely that was fate?
Was it worth fighting for again? Sure you’d loved each other but your relationship wasn’t without flaws. Maybe the distance was only the tip of the iceberg.
If he’d stayed maybe it wouldn’t have lasted anyway. Maybe those issues would have grown larger, pushing the two of you apart anyway.
Was it really worth dragging everything back up again?
There's all those places we used to go
And I suspect you already know
But that place on memory lane you liked still looks the same
But something about it's changed
The places you used to go together were still the same as he’d remembered but that didn’t mean he was still the same.
And it didn’t mean you were still the same either.
But Spencer wouldn’t be able to shake you from his mind unless he saw you again. He needed to know one way or another.
I'm not sure if I should show you what I've found
Has it gone for good?
Or is it coming back around?
Isn't it hard to make up your mind?
When you're losing and your fuse is fireside
You’d been surprised to say the least when he’d called. It was a blast from the past to say the least.
You’d agreed to meet him for coffee. You couldn’t deny seeing him again was like a breath of fresh air.
You’d forgotten quite how handsome he was, and he’d only gotten better with age. His eyes still had the same warmth to them and his smile still held so much awkward charm.
He had been vague at first and claimed he just wanted to catch up. He didn’t want to scare you off by telling you he’d started to dredge up long buried feelings for you.
He wasn’t even sure if he was going to say anything at all. It seemed too much. You’d had your chance long ago. It was foolish for him to think you stood another chance.
Wasn’t it?
And I thought I was yours forever
Maybe I was mistaken but I just cannot manage to make it through the day
Without thinking of you lately
“It was really nice to catch up Spence.” You smiled at him as the two of you left the coffee house. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Yeah.” He croaked, knowing that wouldn’t be an option for him.
He was still very much in love with you, that much was clear to him now. You were the one for him, it had taken him fifteen years to realise it but he knew now. And he knew he couldn’t just be friends with you.
“Are you ok?” You narrowed your eyes on him, sensing something was troubling him. You always could read him so well.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He sighed.
“Spence, you can tell me if somethings bothering you.”
“It’s not that something is bothering me necessarily.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s just that...I’m...well I’m kind of just realising that I’m kinda sorta...still in love with you. So it’s probably best I just-“
“What?” You cut him off. “Are you...seriously?”
“I...yeah.” He chewed his lip. Why did he say that?
“You’re here after fifteen years telling me after one coffee that you’re still in love with me?”
“It would appear that way yes.” God it sounded so dumb when you said it. “I’m just going to go ok? We can forget this whole thing. Pretend I never called.” He turned his back on you and started down the street, his tail between his legs.
I'm not sure if I should show you what I've found
Has it gone for good?
Or is it coming back around?
Isn't it hard to make up your mind?
When you're losing and your fuse is fireside
Could he have been any stupider?
He was still berating himself when he let himself into his apartment later on that day.
What had he been thinking? It was a foolish idea to even contact you, let alone spill his guts to you like that.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Spencer.
He cursed himself. He cursed the case that took him back to his old neighborhood.
He was never going to forget the look on your face when he’d told you he was still in love with you.
He went through to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He brought the glass to his lips and as he went to take his first sip there was a knock at the door.
He sighed heavily, putting the glass down and slumping to the door.
He threw it open, the last set of eyes he expected to see were looking back at him.
“You didn’t even let me respond properly.” You huffed.
“You said enough. I feel stupid as is it Y/N.”
“You didn’t let me say…” you chewed your lip. “I’m kinda sorta still in love with you too.”
When you're losing and your fuse is fireside
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader
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Not A Stranger - Part 3
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)
Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. you’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…
Read Part 1 here
Read Part 2 here
Read Part 4 here
Warnings: SMUT. A little bit of R-rated smut! Swearing, the usual cuss words. Some angst/PTSD, although it’s not overtly discussed. Dubious medical content (discussion of amputation & blood), some of which has been shamelessly lifted from a season 3 episode of Code Black!
A/N: So there’s definitely going to be a Part 4, lol! I’ll try and have it out by this time next week. Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more - it really makes me feel so much less insecure about my writing ahaha! Also do send me short prompts or requests that I can fill as blurbs (i.e. nothing that’s going to be a several chapter story - I will request those later on!) - preferably for Jay but I can do Will as well! Female!Halstead sibling is also okay :) Anyway enough talking, enjoy!
PS: I make mention of bearded Jay in this chapter; this gif is totally the version of him I had in my head for this chapter!
"Walter Holden. 16 years old, victim of an auto accident, came in with a dislocated right leg."
There's droplets of rain on the other side of the windows. It blurs the view - all of a sudden, the buildings you can usually see from the 13th floor of the hospital are just fuzzy, beige blocks.
"Preliminary exam showed no other major trauma, and his vital signs were strong. His leg just had to be reset."
A shudder goes down your spine - was the hospital's conference room always this cold? Well, you don't know - you've never been in here before.
"Dr Halstead advised 10 mil of morphine, but the patient refused pain medication, and the leg was reset. It was at this point that Dr Halstead handed the patient off to Dr Y/L/N, requesting her to evaluate his leg for blood flow."
There's been a strange tapping noise for the last 5 minutes, but only now do you realise it's your fingers against the oval, wooden table.
"Dr Y/L/N? Dr Y/L/N!" You snap out of your reverie and look up. Dr Lanik's glaring at you. You apologise. He takes his seat, next to Mrs Goodwin and Will, both of whom send you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. They're trying to be reassuring, but it doesn't matter - you're ready to drown yourself.
Clearing your throat, you speak. "I was instructed to evaluate his right leg for blood flow. I did so by checking his pulses, uh, dorsalis pedis and posterior tibialis." You pause, as some of the other occupants in the conference room - all members of the board or lawyers, all wearing pristine suits and a cold, calculating expression - turned to look at each other.
You clear your throat again. "It was a uh, a textbook exam."
"I'm sorry, in which textbook does it say to check for an arterial injury by just palpating a pulse?" Dr Lanik cuts in sharp. Will closes his eyes, as you struggle to breath normally.
"90% of all patients - "
"I can't hear you, Dr Y/L/N." Dr Lanik's voice booms across the room, and Will's had it.
"This is ridiculous, there's no need to be intimidating her like this - she's a first year resident and - "
"And she was satisfied with a pulse check to evaluate blood flow? Do I need to remind everyone here that the acceptable course of action in this scenario is to order a doppler or an ABI? That boy's leg was sitting for ages without proper blood flow, and eventually the best we could do for him was amputate it."
Will shakes his head vehemently. "Pathology's looked over the leg - they determined that the severity of the accident combined with the amount of time it took CFD to extricate Holden from the car meant that his leg wasn't viable before he even stepped into the ED." Will turns to you, his eyes piercing as he spoke directly to you.
"There was nothing you could've done that would've changed the outcome. Nothing."
You take a deep breath. You don't nod.
"Alright, we've heard everything we need to hear." The head of the legal department says, after a few moments of discussion with the board members. "Given the findings from Pathology, we will not be terminating Dr Y/L/N's employment here at Chicago Med. However, we recommend that her OR privileges be revoked, and that she is attached to an attending for a duration of 2 months, by which point hopefully she will learn that not every case is a textbook case." She stares directly at you. "Dismissed." Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone makes their leave.
Will places his hand on your shoulder, and you realise you haven't moved even after everyone's left.
His voice is soft. "We all make mistakes. And - "
"I could've been the reason he lost his leg. If he'd come in with ample time to save the leg, and I just - and I just didn't realise it, I could've been the reason a kid had to lose a leg." There's tears in your eyes as you turn to look at Will, who just sighs.
"Yeah. But that's not what happened."
"I got lucky." You shrug, tears freely streaming down your face now. "I just got lucky."
Will doesn't say anything. He just hugs you.
***
It's not the kind of thing you just get over, you realise, because it's been 5 days since it happened but you can't get it out of your head. You've been barely getting any sleep; often you jerk awake in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, after which it's next to impossible to fall asleep again. It's also affecting your work more than just making you tired - you keep second-guessing your medical judgements, deferring to Will or Natalie or Ethan for anything and everything. None of them bite at you for it, because they know what's going on and they know what you're going through, but some part of you wishes they would. Wishes that they'd just grab you by the shoulders and shake you, and say "Be a damn doctor."
Dr Charles met with you for lunch earlier today, and you lamented your troubles. The kind and thoughtful psychiatrist patiently listened, before giving you some wisdom you needed to hear. Amongst which was "find a distraction".
"You mean focus on something else?" You asked, chasing a watermelon cube at the bottom of your fruit cup.
"Yeah, but it's a little bit of a dangerous tactic. See, you don't want to distract yourself from dealing with the pain and the guilt you feel, because emotions don't tend to go away when you suppress them like that. But if you're having trouble processing it, it can be helpful to take your mind off of it for a while, wait til some time has passed and it's not so...intense. And maybe then it'll be easier to tackle and get over, y'know?" Dr Charles advised and you nodded, taking it in.
You think about what exactly you could do to distract yourself as you finish your shift and make your way towards your car in the parking lot.
Maybe I should take up painting?
The thought of yourself - little miss notoriously bad at anything artsy - trying to paint has you chuckling softly. You're about to give up on this whole distract yourself thing when, as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text message. You get into your car, turn on the heating, and pull out your phone.
J.H.
11:32PM
So...guess who's back :)
You can't help the smile on your face. Jay's been undercover for the past week - it actually got started the next morning after the night you went over for "hockey". He'd gotten a text early in the morning asking him to come in, and so the two of you had actually barely spoken since...the festivities of that night.
You
11:33PM
Congrats, detective :)
J.H.
11:33PM
Wanna come over and help me celebrate?
Huh. Well maybe Dr Charles wasn't off-target with the whole "distract yourself" thing - although you're positive having meaningless sex is probably not one of the healthy methods of distraction that he was envisioning.
But quickly, you realise it doesn't matter - ever since what happened, you haven't been sleeping well at night. It's been close to 6 days and you're wrecked, so maybe some good, tires-you-out-completely sex is exactly what you need?
You
11:34PM
Be there in 15
J.H.
11:34PM
Can't wait :)
Your lips curve into a smile as you pull out of the parking lot and down into the main road.
***
"I've been waiting to do this...for so long..." Jay murmurs in your ear before pressing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. You tilt your head to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck to him.
“It’s only been…a couple ‘a days…” You reply softly, and you feel Jay’s huffs of soft laughter into your neck. You turn to look at him, pulling away. “What?”
There’s a teasing smile on his face. “Most women take it as a compliment if a guy says he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.”
You shake you head, putting on a teasing look, “Uh-uh, that’s not what you said, you said you’ve been wanting to do this – ”
“It was implied – ”
“It wasn’t implied and even if it was – ”
“It was implied and even if it wasn’t, that’s still a compliment.” Jay says pointedly, a huge grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. He chuckles, seeing right through you.
You smack his arm. “You keep laughing at me in bed and I’m gonna get mad.” This gets Jay full-on laughing, and your jaw drops in pretend-outrage. “You fucking – ”
“No, no, no c’mere – ” Jay pacifies you, leaning over you, arms on either side of you as he starts to kiss your face, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. But there’s still the slightest smile pulling up the corners of his lips, and when he presses them to your lips, you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. Jay reaches up and holds your face, the kiss becoming soft, loving, drawn-out, and some feeling deep in your core tells you you’re just…somewhere else right now. You don’t know how to describe it, other than that everything in this moment feels perfect, feels right.
A shiver goes down your spine, and maybe it’s because Jay’s shifted, and is now sucking a spot on the base of your neck, hard and strong and deep, and his hands are skimming downwards, unbuttoning your soft cotton top before unzipping your jeans. And maybe it’s because you don’t know what the fuck you are doing here, with him, with all of this. You think about how wrong this is, how bad this is, how his brother’s your boss and this was just supposed to be one drunken hookup and then it became two (except you weren’t even drunk that time) and now it’s about to become three –
“Y/N?” Jay calls softly, and you look at him – his hands resting gently over the hem of your panties, his face hovering over the space between your legs, and the look of…almost reverence in his shining green eyes.
You stop thinking.
Your hands reach downward, sliding your panties off and Jay eagerly helps, getting them off completely. Just like last time, Jay draws out the foreplay – kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin of your inner thighs, making the heat in your core build. Running your fingers through his dark hair, you yank it a little to get him to get going, and he pinches your hip – a quick slap of the wrist. Laughing, you repeat the action, pulling on his hair, and he groans.
“You’re real impatient, you know?”
“Jayyyyyyyy,” You whine, pouting down at him. He’s got this look of a predator – a confident, cocky smile on his face. Jay dips his head down, his mouth making contact with your cunt.
“There we go,” You murmur, gasping as you feel his hot breath on your most sensitive regions. Jay’s hands grip tight into your supple skin, holding your thighs open for him as his tongue circles your opening. Your back arcs as you moan, the sensation of his tongue on you setting off what feels like fireworks in your head. Jay’s mouth presses into you, hard and deep, his tongue licking and lapping at your now sopping wet cunt.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck – ” You whisper, eyelids fluttering shut as Jay softly flicks his tongue over your clit. He repeats the motion, going up and down, teasing your clit and your hip jerks upwards sharply in response. Settling your ass back down against his soft sheets, you catch your breath and mutter a soft apology – “Shit, sorry,” – and Jay taps your thigh, a silent “don’t worry about it”, as he’s nosed his way back between your legs immediately.
Jay laps at your folds and you try to keep your head about you, try to not lose your mind, but it just feels so good. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Oh my god, ohhh my god – fuck!” You whimper, as he keeps sucking your clit, pausing to flick his tongue over it. Your fingers clutch the sheets around you hard enough to rip holes in them. The loud moans out of your mouth are bordering on screams. The feeling in your core, the heat, starts rising like a wave reaching a shore –
“I’m gonna – I’m gonna – I’m gonna – ah, ah, ahhhh – fuck! Fuck, fuck – Jay! Jay!” You scream, your vision whiting out completely as you arch off the bed, riding out the waves of pleasure wrecking your body. You hands fly downwards to grab Jay’s head as you jerk away from his still-working mouth, your oversensitive clit causing tears to pool in your eyes. Pulling him up, you whisper his name over and over again, like he’s the only gospel you know. Jay shifts up, laying down next to you and pulling you close, your bodies fitting into each other like a perfect pair of puzzle pieces. You look at him through your teary eyes and all you see are his green irises staring right back at you with a measure of something dark and lustful in them. You hold his face in your hands, running a thumb over the rough stubble of his cheeks, his jaw, where a soft beard has started to grow. His lips are glossy and wet, from you, and you see now there’s a soft pink line going across his nose that you trace with your hands, frowning.
“I’m okay,” Jay says in a soothing voice.
“What happened?” You ask, concerned, the frown between your eyebrows deepening as you look up at him.
A soft smile. “Kinda got into a fight. Guy tried to punch me, I dodged it, but his fingernail scratched me. It’s fine.” Jay replies quickly, and his face is so close to yours that you’re breathing the same air. You don’t say anything, but you must still be frowning because Jay speaks again. “It’s literally just a scratch.” You hum softly in response, running your hands down his front, unbuttoning his shirt, scanning the expanse of his chest and abdomen with your fingertips and your eyes.
Jay lifts your chin and you turn back to him. “What?”
“Are you checking me for other injuries?” He asks, chuckling. You look back down, pausing for a moment. “Maybe…it’s not like you’d tell me if you got hurt, right?” Jay just laughs, and there’s your answer. You ignore the burgeoning feelings in your heart of some kind of dejection.
Your fingers run over a sliver of raised skin, on his lower right flank. It’s a thin, pale pink scar that runs about 3 inches. You work in an ED – you know exactly what this is.
“You were stabbed?” You ask, stunned. “When?”
Jay sighs, grabbing your fingers in his hand and holding them closed. “Army stuff. Not a big deal.” He pushes your fingers away to your own body, and then reaches for the blanket and pulls it up over the two of you, like as if the conversation’s over.
“You don’t want to talk about the Army,” you point out, as Jay lays on his back, some distance between the two of you. He sighs again, looking upwards at the ceiling. “Is that a question or a statement?”
You know you shouldn’t push, but you do anyway.
“You should talk to someone about it – ”
“I talk to people about it. I have.” Jay’s voice is tight. He’s still not looking at you.
“You can talk to me about it...” You say, and you’re terrified. Because what you’re really asking is “Do you think I’m close enough, do you care about me enough to let me in?”.
Jay turns to you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’ve got other people for that.”
Hiding the immense desolation that’s weighing like an anchor on your chest from showing, you just send a shallow smile his way.
He’s got other people for that. He’s got other people for sharing his feelings, his pain, his suffering, his life. He doesn’t want you for that, I mean, why would he share all of that with you? You’re just a warm body – some random girl he’s having sex with. Nothing more.
You pull the blankets tighter around you, turning away from Jay. Trying your best to quell the wave of sadness flooding what feels like every single part of you, you drift asleep.
***
“Dr Y/N?”
You turn, and there’s Walter Holden on a bed in the ED.
“Walter?” You walk to his side, stunned. He’s crying – tears spilling out of his soft baby blue eyes, his youthful face scrunched up in pain and anguish.
“Why did you do this to me? Why?!” He yells, his voice cracking. You shake your head. “Walter, Walter I’m so sorry – I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to – ” You choke on your words, and as you look down the bed you realise that Walter’s amputated leg is bleeding at the stump.
“Oh god, oh my god – ” You get up, shocked as the blood starts gushing. Walter screams.
“Help me! Dr Y/N – help me! Help me!”
You hear your heart hammering in your ears, your head is spinning, you stand up and you feel faint.
Will rushes into the room. He starts holding as much gauze as he can to Walter’s leg. Nurses and doctors flood the room, and they begin moving Walter out. You’re standing, back pressed to the treatment room wall, aghast.
Will turns to you, his face red with rage. “What are you even doing?! Fucking hell, Y/N – you can’t do anything right?!”
There’s a painful lump in your throat, and you can’t breathe. Something grabs your hand and you snap your head. It’s Walter, and as they wheel his bed out, he looks at you with so much fury and torment in his eyes.
“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A DOCTOR!”
“No, no, no, I’m so sorry Walter, I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – this can’t be happening, no, no no no – ” Tears stream down your face and you start shaking. Your knees buckle, and you fall to the ground, sobs wracking your body. Somewhere in the distance, you hear your name being called, but you can’t answer, you can’t do this anymore, you can’t – you just can’t…
“Y/N! Y/N!”
You jolt, your eyes flying open. Jay’s over you, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes wide, concerned, his hands holding your shoulders where you realise he’s been shaking you – shaking you because – because –
Fuck.
It was a fucking nightmare. Again.
You let out a cry of pain, bringing your hands up to cover your face. “Breathe, just breathe.” Jay says softly, rubbing your arms up and down.
After about a minute, when you don’t feel so shaken anymore, you wipe your eyes and slowly sit up. Jay shifts with you, sitting right next to you. You can’t look him in the eyes.
“I’m – I’m sorry I woke you,” you whisper to your palms, resting atop your folded legs.
“Don’t – don’t worry about that. Y/N, what happened? It sounded pretty bad…” Jay says and you shake your head.
“I’m fine, it’s fine – ” Your hands run through your hair roughly. You need to go. You need to go – you need to leave – you can’t be here –you can’t be here with him –
“Hey. Hey,” Jay repeats, when you don’t answer. He reaches across and his warm hard gently grabs your face, trying to get you to look at him but you just push his hand away. You get up, grabbing your underwear and jeans from the ground and start getting dressed.
“Y/N!” Jay gets off the bed, and comes to you. You sidestep him, or at least you try to, but he’s much taller than you and his shoulders are broad; he stands in your way and grabs your arms softly.
“Y/N, look at me – ”
“Why?”
You give him what he wants. You look up at him, you stare him directly in his eyes, shaking in anger and fear and what feels like the weight of the world on your shoulders.
“Hmm? Why? This isn’t – you don’t care – what does it matter –” You yell at him, your mind frazzled as you fall apart in his arms.
The frown on Jay’s face gets deeper, and he shakes his head, leaning close. “Hey, talk to me. C’mon, you can talk to me – ”
“Why the fuck would I talk to you? You’re just some guy I’m sleeping with!” You spit harshly, shaking his hands off and stepping back. Jay’s mouth falls open, and his shoulders sag. His face contorts into something awful - dismay, defeat, hurt.
For a moment, you want to run back into his arms – apologise, say you didn’t mean it, say you’re just scared – but you don’t. You move around him, grabbing your shirt. You put it on and make your way out of his bedroom, and out of his apartment.
You don’t know why you said what you did. Actually, scratch that, you know exactly why you said that. In fact, you know exactly why you’re what you’re doing.
Every relationship you’ve ever had up to this point’s fucked you over. Every single one. You’ve been cheated on, you’ve been lied to, you’ve been told you were just some piece of ass, not an actual girlfriend. And now?
Now you’re scared shitless of what this thing between the two of you is. You’re scared shitless that you’re making a mistake by screwing around with your boss’s brother and you’re –
Well.
You’re scared shitless you’re falling for him.
So, you do what you do best. Dump out of this, push the self-destruct button. Get him to push you away so you don’t have to go through the pain of falling for the guy you can’t have. The one that you know’s going to screw you over, because he’s going to realise he only really sees you as a hookup – that he doesn’t love you.
You try to hold back the tears, because you’re driving home and the last thing you need right now is a car accident. There’s a buzzing sound from your phone and you perk up. As much as you want to tell yourself to not get your hopes high, you can’t help yourself, and you speed down the road to the red light so you can push the brakes and wait. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you immediately check the screen.
The smile on your face falls – it’s just a stupid notification from Instagram. You toss your phone back onto the passenger seat, hard enough that it bounces off and hits the ground. Tears once again threaten to fill your eyes, and there’s a painful lump in your throat. You swipe at your cheeks, where a single tear has made its escape, and turn to look at the screen next to your steering wheel – it shows the time as 3:45AM. Leaning back against your car seat, a deep sigh exits your lungs.
You realise there’s no way you’re going to sleep again today, what with the whole Jay thing on top of the Walter Holden nightmare that’s been haunting you for the last 6 days now.
The lights turn green.
Swearing under your breath, you throw your car into a U-turn and drive to Med instead.
#jay halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead smut#jay halstead x reader#will halstead#will halstead imagine#chicago pd imagine#chicago med imagine#onechicago imagine#onechicago#cpd smut#cpd imagine
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Me and my friends are lonely - Spencer
It started out as a music blurb based on a song i’ve listened to since i was a teenager but it turned into something more. I just kept writing and this is what came to be... I really needed to get this out of my system i guess. bc we want to take care of spencer so... yeah.
Song: Me and my friends are lonely - Matt Maeson
Warnings: Okay so the whole conversation revolves around death (maeve referrence but it’s spence x reader). If you’re not in the headspace to read that, I suggest you don’t read it. No one actually dies and there’s nothing graphic but yeah. proceed with caution.
_____________
“Do you ever feel like you’re going to die alone?” Spencer asked, staring up at the stars.
The two of you were on the roof of his apartment complex, having a picnic. It started out as a ritual the two of you did to get him out of the house without going anywhere after Maeve and now, it was something you regularly did whenever one of you was feeling down. Even as just friends, before it turned into something more, the two of you just established something special with the picnics.
“Jesus, Spencer. Isn’t the point of these picnics to remind you that you aren’t alone?” You said. Laying on your back, you turned your head to look at him. God he was so beautiful… You couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah but… What if we don’t work out? What if you leave? What if…” Spencer's breath hitched. “What if something happens to you when I’m not here and I’m back where I started… Alone…”
“Spence, come on. You can’t think like that.” You said, sighing.
“Why not? I’m being realistic. My line of work isn’t something simple like working at a bookstore or a barista or a fucking-”
“Watch it.” You said, making sure to keep Spencer in check about what he would say next.
Spencer could be a little insensitive at times when he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying at the time he said it. You tried to develop a tougher skin so it didn’t bother you when he did say certain things because you knew he wasn’t saying it to hurt you, he was just saying what was on his mind. Still, you tried to remind him that not everyone can handle facts like you can.
“Sorry. But my point is there are horrible people everywhere who I have helped put away. People that want to hurt me and you and whoever is close to me. People I’m a little bit scared of because they are the prime examples of the loss of humanity that can happen to anyone. I have nightmares of being alone, adding you to another list of people I have loved and lost.” Spencer went quiet.
“You’re long winded, Spencer. Do you ever breathe?” You said, a tear streaming down your face. He had good points, all things you had thought about before with the roles reversed.
“I find that when I use my diaphragm instead of my lungs to control my breath, much like singing, then I’m able to recite a longer string of words without losing my place.” He looked over at you, completely straight faced.
“I was joking but that’s good to know.” You looked back at him.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you…” He whispered.
A tear slipped down, dropping onto the blanket.
“Nothing will happen to me, Spence.” You said, whispering as well.
“You don’t know that. We can’t predict the probability that you will remain safe. Look at Hotch and Haley. He couldn’t save her. If Hotch couldn’t, what makes you think…” More tears ran down his face.
“Well that’s the point. You can’t use statistics to get out of this one. You can’t predict everything, Spencer, and this is just something that we can’t focus on because I believe that it will manifest itself. But you know what?”
“What?” Spencer asked, holding back tears.
“Whatever happens to me, I had the time of my life with you by my side. Spencer, you have made me the happiest person alive ever since you breezed into my life. I wouldn’t want to have night picnics with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to dream about kids and a house with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to die in anyone else’s arms. And that’s morbid but I trust you. I trust that you will be there in my final moments. I know you and you wouldn’t let the story end there.” You were holding back tears yourself.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Spencer sat up, pulling his knees to his chest.
“What doesn’t, babe?” You said, sitting up as well.
“The dreams. The dreams don’t make sense. This doesn’t make sense.” He dropped his head between his knees.
You crawled around the picnic basket, thankful that the blanket was softening the gravel on your knees. It would hurt even more if it wasn’t there. You pulled him into your lap to lay down and he loosened up a little bit. Putting your hand on his arm, rubbing it softly.
“What dreams? Are you having nightmares again?” You scrunched your eyebrows together. He was supposed to tell you when he had bad dreams.
“Yes… I didn’t want you to worry. You worry about me a lot more than you should and it worries me that you worry about me. I’m not a kid. Logically, I should be able to take care of myself with something so simple.” He sighed.
“Is that why you’ve been pulling more hours at the office? Being up at odd hours when you text me? You don’t have to close yourself off when bad shit happens.” You started playing with his hair and he closed his eyes.
“I can’t figure out what to do. It’s a version of the same dream. And it’s always you and…” Another tear.
“Spencer, please just open up. I promise not to go anywhere.” You pushed his hair out of his eyes so you could make eye contact with him.
“I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t choose. She always makes me choose between you and Maeve. And I can’t make a decision. I can’t choose one of you. I can’t choose. And she never takes me. I’d rather die than choose between the two of you.”
Spencer was crying hard. You didn’t know what to say. You knew it was bad with how dark the circles under his eyes were but you never asked details because you wanted him to come to you. The two of you didn’t force anything in the relationship, no matter how painful it was to watch the other suffer. You asked if he was okay along the way but he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t push anything.
“Spencer, you have to breathe. You’re going to pass out.” You said, trying to calm him down. He sat up, curling back into himself.
You just wrapped your arms around him and held him until he was able to breathe again. You hated to see him like this but this is what happened when it built up within him: the dam broke and all the tears came rushing out.
“Can you breathe again?” You said, grabbing a paper towel from behind you so he would blow his nose.
“Yeah… I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would lose it like that…” He was quiet, sniffling but he was all cried out.
“No, it’s good. You needed to get it out of your system. That was heavy stuff.” You said, putting your head on his shoulder and rubbing his back.
“She was alive. In 5 minutes, her life ends…” A couple more tears rolled down his face but he patted them away with the paper towel. “You probably think I’m crazy… Hung up on a dead girl…”
“No, baby. I don’t think you’re crazy for that. I think you’re crazy for dating me but not that.” You made him chuckle.
“You make me sane….” He said a little louder.
“But really, I think you’re processing. You’re still grieving. That’s some hard shit to go through and it’s not something you just get over, especially not a year later.” You paused.
“I can’t choose... You both changed me in different ways and I’m not who I am without either of you. I’d rather die than be without either of you. And there’s already one that slipped away so…” His sigh was shaky but you continued to rub his back and slowly, his body was relaxing.
“Spencer, I didn’t know I meant that much to you…” You were quiet this time, in disbelief.
He turned to look at you. “You mean all of that and more. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“I don’t want you to stop living if I ever leave the world. I need you to promise me that you will continue fighting, okay? I need to hear that from you.” You said, eyes meeting his. God they were so beautiful, even under the shitty yellow light above the two of you and the moonlight.
“I can’t promise that and you know it.” He whispered.
“Spencer…”
You were both quiet. There was something lingering in the air, a somber feeling. You wanted to kiss him so badly, make it go away. You wanted to just go for it but this wasn’t the time. It would lead to something more and he wasn’t in the right headspace. You needed to get back to where you were before: the picnic.
“Do you want to finish the picnic? I think you need some energy after all of that and we can even cuddle.” You said, still so close to his face.
“Okay.” He whispered.
You dropped your head to break eye contact and a moment later he kissed you on the forehead.
“I love you.” He said for the first time.
“I love you.” You said, hoping he knew you meant it with all of your heart.
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Ugh I read "heaven to you" and its sequel and now I really want a prequel with the reader losing her v card to Mikey. Pretty please with a cherry (preferably popped!) on top? 🍒
this was such a cute idea! i have no plans on making a full prequel but i’m so down for making long drabbles/blurbs (and even one-shots if i think they’re applicable to the prompt) about their relationship outside of the stories. i’m currently writing the sequel which is heavy so this was so nice to get back to sweet cute stuff with my favorite couple.
i went with a one-shot for this because it’s such a big moment in their relationship, especially for michael as you can see throughout the first two chapters of heaven to you.
in which you have sex for the first time
Michael had been asking you to come over for weeks now and while normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, it was the timing of it all. You’d been dating for nearly a year and if his reputation was anything to go by, sex was just looming in the background.
Michael had been great about not pressuring you but you knew it was something that was on his mind. Especially with the knowledge that Michael was more than experienced and while you never put that against him since it was before you met, you couldn’t exactly feel fine with the thought of possibly not being able to measure up to his expectations. Not that he ever gave any indication that he had any expectations for you to meet. In fact, he never once compared you to anyone or made you feel like he was. He always made you feel like you were important and the center of his attention.
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. In fact he was the only one you trusted enough to be your first. You couldn’t imagine it being with anyone else, you didn’t want anyone else. Over the months of dating, you had grown to trust him and had fallen for him pretty hard. He was gentle and patient and you knew he would be the same for your first time. You didn’t doubt that he wouldn’t judge you or make you feel uncomfortable.
But you weren’t ready. Or, you were but your nerves easily drowned that out. And so you did what you could to avoid it. Including finding any excuse to not be alone with him, rescheduling meetings to take up a lot of your time, and keeping a safe distance between you.
It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, you did, so much so that you weren’t sure if you could hold yourself back if you were alone with him. But that was the very thing you were afraid of, letting go and then putting yourself in that awkward position you always feared. You couldn’t trust yourself. It wasn’t his fault so you felt kind of bad that you felt like you were punishing him. But you didn’t know what else to do.
He was very much intimidating as it was, you couldn’t imagine how small you would feel doing something so foreign, so out of your comfort zone, with him while it was like second nature to him. What if you did something wrong? You didn’t want to disappoint him, not when all you wanted to do was please him. Just the thought of him kissing you, his hands on your body, made you heat up with want. You wanted him so much. But the anxious thoughts were still at the back of your head.
You were beginning to think you were succeeding at stealthily evade the thing that made your heart race with just the thought of it. But that illusion came crashing down when you exited your classroom, only to find Michael leaning on the wall opposite the doorway.
When he pushed himself off of the wall and went to stand in front of you, you nervously flicked the corner of a paper sticking out from your folder. You were eye-level to his chest and so when you looked up so your gaze reached his face, you did so slowly.
Michael was staring down at you with hard eyes but they held no anger or animosity. You were sure the students trailing out behind you, whispering and staring at the big dressed-in-all-black man in front of you would think differently, though. You weren’t scared of him like they obviously were, walking much faster than usual. But you were definitely nervous at the confrontation that was no doubt about to happen.
“Why are you avoiding me?” He was straightforward and one of his inked hands reached to envelope your small one. His voice sounded rough but his actions were gentle. You were slowly learning to differentiate his real emotions from the external appearance he gave off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Your smile was forced and you let out a shaky breath when you did. A bit of your heart broke when you saw his eyes looking at you, worried. Worried about what he could’ve possibly done that made you want to ignore him, worried that you could break up with him before the relationship even fully got started.
“Nothing, nothing! I just…” You sighed, “It’s stupid. And it has nothing to do with you, Mikey. We’re fine.”
You saw a flash of a smile on his face at your nickname for him. He never let anyone call him anything other than Michael so you were nervous when you first called him Mikey. It just came out. But you relaxed when you saw the happy glint in his eyes. He loved it and he loved it because it came from you. It was a soft-side only you could see.
You settled to your natural position below his arm as he walked out of the building with you. Part of you wondered if he had a class he was missing but the answer was likely yes.
Michael was still looking down at you, not having to worry with accidentally bumping into anyone as it seemed everyone simultaneously decided to make a little pathway for the two of you. That was a treatment you were not used to.
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you, what is it?”
You felt your cheeks heat up. Were you really going to tell him? You didn’t think he would make fun of you or laugh, but you wouldn’t exactly blame him if he did. What if he was so weirded out he broke up with you? He definitely had more options on campus, you had heard the stories and while he knew you were a virgin and had respected it, your mind still gave you the worst case scenarios. In truth though, he really respected it. More than you expected coming from a man who could have sex whenever he wanted. He had patiently waited for months, not once even mentioning it. And you felt awful that you were repaying him by ignoring him for weeks now.
“I-I’m just nervous.” You glanced up at him from between your eyelashes, bashfully.
He stopped near a bench, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of what you were saying. “Nervous for what?”
Glancing around to make sure no one could overhear you, your voice lowered to a whisper. “To do…it…”
Michael didn’t say anything for a moment before it finally dawned on him. “Did I say something that made you feel uncomfortable? Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do! I didn’t even realize it was something that was on your mind.” He sat down on the bench so you, standing, were slightly taller than him for a change.
You sighed, leaning forward so his face was on your stomach and your hands were stroking his hair. “I know, and you didn’t even bring it up don’t worry. I was just thinking that, we’ve been dating for a few months now and I want to. I think I’m ready. I-I want you to be my first.”
Maybe it was your imagination that he held you tighter, closer, as you finished your sentence. But when you looked down, he was already looking up at you, his eyes darker than you remember them being.
“Yeah?”
You were blushing, your cheeks a dark red color, when you nodded timidly. “But I’m nervous.”
He stood at this point, making you crane your head to keep eye contact. One of his hands went to your neck and you swore you stopped breathing. Your breath hitched. But he rested his fingers on the side of your neck, his thumb being used to hold your titled chin up.
Michael’s voice was raspy when he spoke. “You have nothing to be nervous about, baby girl. We can go to your apartment if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
Oh my God. This was happening, right now.
You were done with classes. There was no reason to say no.
You feel your panties dampen as you nodded, almost like you were in a trance. Your heart leaped with excitement and just with the prospect that he was trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
You were stumbling the entire way to your house, even dropping your keys more than once when it came to unlocking your door. Michael on the other hand, was striding confidently and quickly, almost leading you. His arms were around your waist and every so often they were trail up beneath your shirt or sneak beneath the elastic of your skirt, skimming your skin there, not phased by the looks thrown your way.
You could see the physical reaction your confession had on him and somehow that just made you more sexually frustrated. But also slightly more nervous. At his excitement, you didn’t want to disappoint. Especially now.
The second your door opened, Michael had you pushed up against the wall of your apartment, swinging the door just behind him, carelessly. His entire focus was on you and your lips. You’d made out many times but this time felt different. His kisses were more frenzied, hotter and definitely hungrier. He was leaning down to kiss you but eventually, he picked you up. You gasped as he put you so you were laying across his shoulder. You were facing the room, your hands on his back to hold you up, as he walked you to your room. “Michael!”
Your chastising tone turned into a tiny scream as he lifted you off and practically threw you on the bed, but making sure you landed safely in your cushioned pillows. Your hair was all around you in a messy position. But you stared breathless up at Michael. It was almost wrong how turned on you got at being manhandled that way, being thrown around like you were a toy.
You were sure you whole face was red as he moved to hover above you. His body shadowed your entire figure. “M-Mikey.” Your voice was laced with want, without you even meaning it to be.
Michael moaned under his breath at the way you looked under him. Your cheeks tainted as your blood rushed to your face and your big doe eyes staring at him in with an innocent pout. He wanted to ruin you.
But he controlled himself just slightly by closing his eyes. “Let me know when you want to stop, okay? Whenever you feel uncomfortable just say the word.”
You nodded childishly, your mind not being able to process much of anything except for the fact that he was about to be inside you. You smushed your thighs together to try to soothe the ache between them.
Michael moved down and you knew what he was going to do so you took his shoulders to stop him. He looked at you with questioning eyes when you shook your head. “N-no. Just want you inside me. Please.”
He tore his shirt above his arms and then began doing the same with your ruffled shirt. You were both desperate, it was obvious with the quickness you both took to undress. You were surprised at how expertly he took off your panties and bra.
Everything was happening so fast. So much so that you had nearly forgotten what it was you were worried about. When Michael took a pause to look at you and your body, however, it all came rushing back. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself from his eyes. The eyes that were staring at you with a level of adoration that you hadn’t seen before.
His hands captured your wrists before leaning down and kissing you. His silver chain dangling between your bodies.
Pushing your hands away, his own hands replaced yours. One of his hands cupped your tits, massaging them gently while the other traveled to your pussy. Pushing your legs apart, his index and ring fingers spread your lips before his thumb rubbed your clit.
Your hips stuttered, grinding upwards against his hand at the pleasure they brought which seemed to make you lightheaded. You wanted more.
Glancing up at him, you saw the way his built body was strewn with black ink. The visuals of which had your own hands exploring his abdomen, neck, and arms. You had always found them attractive but seeing them in their entirety, how they took up much of his body, they were downright sinful to look at. He was perfect.
His finger prodded your entrance and your mouth had fallen open. Only mewling sounds could escape you. Michael smirked, his gaze transfixed on your open mouth. Dirty thoughts littered his brain.
“Am I the first person to touch you like this, little one?” He’d never called you that before. You sucked in your breath and nodded. Suddenly aware of how small you were compared to him and you felt yourself practically gushing at the thought.
“Good.” He groaned out. One of his hands left your chest and reached up to your lips, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down slowly, his eyes following every movement.
The dichotomy was almost too much. The way his rough hands, covered in tattoos and scars, gently caressed your naked body was so different from what you expected. But it was exactly what you needed.
His hands left you as he shifted to be directly on top of you. “Are you ready?” The tip of his nose skimmed your cheek.
You were really about to do this.
You bit your bottom lip for a second, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You whispered so lowly that he wouldn’t have been able to hear if he weren’t so close to you.
Again, his big hand reached up to your face, this time taking a whole of your jaw, his palm covering nearly your entire jawbone. But he was gentle with you. A thought in the back of your mind considered what it would be like if he was rougher. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the thought.
“You don’t have to worry about that. Just the thought of me taking your virginity makes me want to bust a nut right here and now.”
A nervous giggle left you and he smiled right alongside you. And finally, you found the courage to nod. You trusted him. In fact, now that you were with him, any and all insecurity seemed to go away as if it didn’t exist at all. He had that power, to make you feel confident. Like there was no one in the world that mattered more.
Michael looked down between you as you grabbed onto his muscular biceps. Glancing down, you saw him take a hold of his dick and lead it right to your entrance. You inhaled sharply at his size. Of course you didn’t have much of any experience but even then you knew he was big. Bigger than you expected at least. And he was almost painfully hard. How had you gotten such a hot boyfriend?
The head of his dick touched prodded your entrance experimentally and you stiffened at the foreign feeling. You feared your cheeks would be permanently red from how much you were blushing. The room felt hot and your body was like it was on fire but still you felt coldness at your nerves.
Michael took a hold of your inner thigh, moving your legs to be even more open. “Relax.” He murmured, “I’ll go slow. Just let me do everything, okay? I want this to feel good for you.” His voice was a soft, comforting coo.
When he finally entered you, your back arched forward as you gasped sharply. There was pain and you weren’t sure if it was supposed to feel like what you were feeling or if it was amplified because of his length and girth. Maybe both. He was filling you up impossibly tight.
Michael, for his part, closed his eyes and tilted his head back in pleasure as he entered you. “You’re so tight.” He groaned out and it almost sounded like he was in pain but one of his hands trailing back to your boob and kneading was an indication that it was pleasure, not pain. He had expected you to be tight but not this tight. It felt like you were suffocating his dick but in the best way possible.
He’d never been with a virgin before, you knew. And you didn’t think either of you had expected the feelings you were currently feeling. Your pain dissolved rather quickly and once it did, the overwhelming pleasure, a new kind of sensation you had never felt before, set in.
Michael watched you with cautious eyes, stopping when he saw your face scrunch up in pain. Moving only when he heard an elongated moan come out of you when the pain started to subside.
His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters to make sure no pain remained. But once you began writhing under his, your hands fisting the fabric of your bed sheets, he began to move faster. Or as fast and deep as he could in your still tight cunt. Part of his dick still couldn’t fit into you and he had to stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head at the sight. It was like a fantasy to see your small body so filled.
“Fuck, look at you.” He muttered, “Stuffed with my cock. Can hardly get it in all the way.” He gave an abrupt thrust, pushing himself all the way inside you, making you gasp out loud. “But you’re still blushing like you’re shy. As if your pussy isn’t getting absolutely destroyed.”
The sight of you was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. You were blushing like a shy, virginal little girl while you let his thick cock pound into you. Your hands searched anything they could find to hold tightly to, your body writhing under him.
It was even better when he knew that that was exactly what you were. You were so cute and pure but here you were, letting yourself be corrupted by the guy that everyone least expected, the one that screamed bad news and had a rap sheet to prove it. He was the one that was taking away your innocence, the very thing that you seemed to exude. He was taking it and defiling it for his pleasure. That thought had him thrusting harder into you, with a new vigor just because he could.
And he knew you would only be like that for him. He was the only man that had ever touched you, ever fucked you. Only his cock has and ever will be drilling into you like he currently was. Only he has ever known your body and only he would be able to help you explore what you liked and teach you what he liked. You were his, totally and completely. And he was never letting you go.
He wasn’t sure if it was that thought which stroked his possessive ego or because this was the first time he’d had sex with someone he actually loved but your pussy felt nearly magical around his cock.
“So pretty.” He refrained himself from saying more. He wanted to fuck you like the doll you resembled, tell you every dirty, degrading thing he wanted to do to you, with you. But he didn’t. It wouldn’t do any good to do anything outside of your comfort zone, especially for your first time. Instead, he focused on making you the most comfortable possible. And if that meant he got to tell you how much he loved you and how good you were for him, then all the better. He would have plenty of time to show you everything he wanted to teach you and find out what your secret little kinks were later.
His hands had moved to hold your legs still as they moved every time you flailed under him, trying to cope with the pleasure. Your body began bouncing under him as his thrusts got more punctuated and faster. You egged him on, wanting him to please you as much as he could. You didn’t want him to be gentle and slow just because it was your first time. No, you’d been yearning for him to fuck you for too long for that.
“You’re doing so well. Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this.” He praised, kissing your thigh. “Taking my cock so well, baby girl.”
Your eyes were shut, your mouth capturing your bottom lip, as he drilled into you, thrusting deep. His hips moved expertly so much so that you finally understood why he was his activities in the bedroom were so well known.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to my cock soon and it’ll be the only one you’re going to get from now on. You’re mine.”
Your moans had started to get higher in volume but shorter and quicker. Nodding at his words, “O-only want your cock.”
Your words were filthy. You had never talked like that before just like he had never talked to you like that before. You weren’t even aware either of you could say something so dirty but coming form his mouth, they just made your stomach erupt in butterflies.
Michael growled at your words, his thrusts getting rougher as he finally managed to stretch you out enough to take all of his cock, going as deep as he could go. You were taking it in stride considering his size and it was your first time. He was too far gone so he couldn’t control his next words. “I’m going to make this cunt mine. Yeah, you want that?” His lips found yours in a bruising kiss. “Gonna become a slut just for me?”
It was like his invisible self control had snapped. While he remained relatively gentle in his thrusts and his touch was still soft and controlled, his words were nothing you’d ever heard before. From him or from anyone.
And you loved it. You were panting at his surprising and dirty words, your face heating up more and your heart nearly pounding out of your chest. You wanted him to make good of everything he was saying. And as he stared at your flushed face, the more he wanted to make good of his words, the harder he fucked into you.
It blew his mind how sexy he found the paradox between your bashful appearance and the perverted things you were currently allowing him to do to you, especially as you looked up at him, helpless to do much except enjoy the pleasure, with those big demure eyes. Not so demure anymore as they were filled with profane lust.
His words made you feel sexy and your earlier insecurity had completely left your mind. You were more than pleasing him. This had to be the best sex he’d ever had. If he would’ve known fucking a virgin, specifically his virgin girlfriend, would’ve felt so good, he would’ve snatched you up a long time ago. Because he knew it was you that was making this feel so good. Any other girl wouldn’t have the same effect. No, only you could make him feel like this.
Leaning forward until your naked bodies were together, his actions made everything seem that much more intimate and as you listened to his breathing, you felt so vulnerable and loved in that vulnerability. Clenching around him, you began pushing against him, meeting his thrusts as well as your inexperienced hips could. But it worked because he let out a curse and then your name.
If you had any worry that you were doing anything wrong, it was gone when he was back in control o himself and moaned out, “That’s perfect. You feel so good. You like that?”
Your answer came in a repeating of ‘yeah’s that were beginning to sound like a mantra. You couldn’t put your thoughts together enough to come up with full sentences.
“Of course you do, always so good for me, little one. You were made for me. Made for my cock, we fit so perfectly. Everything I could want.”
His praise made you blush thoroughly and made your heart soar. It made you just want to do anything you could to make him feel good. Even if it was completely new territory to you, his sweet words were exactly what you needed to let you not feel awkward or insecure but instead focus on enjoying the moment.
He was not only making you feel comfortable but also confident enough to let loose and want to do it again. And again and again. Without the insecurity. He loved you, you loved him and you couldn’t think of a better way to have sex for the first time.
You thought for a second that he not only met but exceed all of your expectations of how good he would be in bed but then his cool eyes met yours and you stopped thinking at all. You didn’t even question if he felt as good, as pleasured as you did because his eyes were dark with desire and sweat was accumulating on his body as he grunted.
You were practically screaming around them as his strokes slowed down, entering and going out twice before he hammered into you. Your breaths came out in short spurts and with them your broken moans.
The knot that had formed in you exploded and you felt yourself clench around him again as you came. Your cum was dripping down your thighs, onto him.
His thrusts were becoming sloppy, “That’s right…” He looked down between you. “Just like that.”
He kept thrusting, his words came out constrained as if he was trying to hold something back. “Where can I cum?”
He usually lasted longer than that. But he couldn’t when he was thinking of what exactly he was doing: taking his sweet, small, innocent girlfriend’s virginity. Not when he was ruining her so good that she just exploded all over him. No, that thought alone made him have to force back his incoming orgasm. But he couldn’t for long.
You wanted it to be a surprise when you told him you went on birth control weeks before. And you knew you made the right decision when you saw his face. “Inside me.”
Michael’s eyes widened impossibly and his thrusts just got faster as he groaned out. You were a dream, too good to be true. Much too good for him. “Shit.”
His cum filled you up in the best way possible. But still you felt empty when he finally pulled out. Your body craved him back, even just for the contact of having him that close to you.
You watched Michael spread your puffy and sore lower lips apart, watching your cum, mixing together, trickling down your inner thigh. He sucked a breath in at the sight. “God, you’re so beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your heart swelled.
Then he moved to lay directly beside you, his head leaning, satisfied, on your pillow. While you took up a little more than half of the bed length, his body covered the entire thing.
You were blushing when you hid your face in your pillows, but he took a hold of your face before you could. “You did so good, took me so well.”
Blushing, you bit your bottom lip. “Was it good for you?”
Then Michael laughed, but not a cruel or mocking laugh. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
To which you rolled your eyes until he took a hold of your hair, pulling it so that you looked at him again. You worried yourself slightly when you got turned on at the action. Maybe he was corrupting you like everyone warned. If he was, you definitely didn’t mind.
“I mean it. Your pussy was so tight and you were so hot.” His lips pecked yours lovingly.
He smiled wickedly back at your timid smile. You snuggled into him, slowly as your body was already beginning to feel sore. His arm wrapped around you easily. “I’m sorry if some the things I said were too far. Kinda lost control there.” He sounded almost sheepish.
Looking up at him, you felt your face heat up again. You were almost worried he’d judge you for your next words. “Don’t be. I….I liked it.”
But he did the exact opposite. His eyes darkened as he searched your face, looking for any hint that you were kidding. When he found none, he moved his face to be just a few millimeters from yours. “Don’t look at me with those big eyes and blush like that while you say that, little girl, unless you want to be stuffed with my cock again.”
Your mouth fell open at his words. He was usually so kind and cautious with his words, you had never known him not to be overly concerned with you and your feelings. Though he made sure to praise you during your first time, now, the degrading words that he had sprinkled in were right alongside them. And you didn’t mind one bit. You had definitely uncovered a new side of Michael. A side that you really liked. Maybe you had uncovered a new side of you as well.
His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb moving back and forth, as if he was considering something. Like just how good you would look with his hand around your neck while he fucked you. “But you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
You might your lip, nodding shyly to which he chuckled. “Of course you would.”
Life was so good. It handed you a sex god on a silver platter. You were sure your first time wasn’t supposed to feel as good as it did. But even though the pleasure was on your mind, you also thought about how lucky you were that he was your first. You’d never felt as loved or connected with someone as you did in that moment. You were convinced you wouldn’t have felt as at ease and guided if it was with someone else.
It was a while before he talked again, “I guess you’re not the pure girl everyone thinks you are anymore.” He was smirking triumphantly, “Now, you’re mine.”
not this being 5.1k words. might’ve gone a little overboard but i really liked this prompt! hope you do too :)
i really had fun exploring the beginnings of their relationships where y/n is very much still shy and intimidated of michael and where michael is a lot more reserved in bed in order not to overwhelm her or scare her too much but still slipping in what he would eventually be like in the actual story.
#5sos smut#michael clifford smut#michael clifford#michael clifford x reader#bad boy smut#virginity kink#5sos#bad boy michael
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𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2
🔥Warnings: slight angst, drug references, drug dealing, language.
🦎Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tC-FOXioDo
In Your Arms by Sunbeam Sound Machine
((He do be vibin tho))
masterlist
𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘈𝘋 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 taking care of Newt for weeks now after he was released from the burn unit, his burns getting better slowly, soon enough turning into scars. You took over his drug dealings, partly because Newt didn’t have the strength, but mostly because he didn’t want to scare away customers from the product.
But there was something that Newt insisted on having. He wanted to have the apartment as hot as hell, heaters in every corner of his place. Without the heaters, he would say he was freezing, and it would bother him enough to where he wouldn’t sleep.
You were getting used to the intense heat that went through Newt’s apartment. He was excited about it, mainly because it was an excuse for you to wear less clothing.
You were usually the one to tend his wounds, and take care of him. You ended up just living with him.
Finally, after 4 long weeks of restless nights and illegal transactions, he was finally fully healed, the burns and blisters turning into smoothed over scars. But he looked similar to two-face from batman.
But even after he was healed, he insisted on keeping the heaters on, and you didn’t mind. What happened to him would most likely cause PTSD, so whatever made him comfortable was fine with you.
You pulled up to the apartment building, people outside enjoying the nice weather. It was an especially warm day in Woodmere, Louisiana that day. You waved to a few people that waved your way as you brought the groceries up the stairs. Of course, it was nothing substantial.
Cups of noodles, hot chocolate, waffle mix, anything and everything warm or served hot. That’s what he liked. But it was also nice for you to also get out, so you didn’t get heatstroke, but your body was slowly getting more used to it.
You walked to the door, the black one with a white painting of a newt on it, giving the secret knock. Seconds later the door opened, stopped by the chain lock. As you caught a glimpse of his face, his eyes went soft. The door closed and was reopened.
“Anyone follow you?” he asked, the heat brushing over your body like a hairdryer as I entered.
He looked out the doorframe, closing the door once again, locking every lock. You went into the kitchen, setting the bags down, Newt follows, the red silhouettes, and shadows covering the area.
“Heard from your cousin lately?” you asked, knowing he followed you.
“Yeah, I gave her some more product. She’s got some good connections.” he leaned up against the kitchen’s doorframe.
“That’s good,” you smiled, putting the groceries away, “How you feelin’?” you asked, looking back at him.
“Good. But I would be better if you stayed here for the rest of the night,” he sighed.
“Newt, honey, you know that I gotta go into work today,”
“But it’s not like you need the money,” he objected, walking closer to you, now leaning against the counter.
“I know...,” you thought about it. You really didn’t need to. He was right, “I guess I could just...,” you turned to him, your body inches from his, “Call in sick...” as he smiled at your words.
“Give me a kiss...,” he muttered, pulling you closer, his arms pulling you by your waist closer to him.
You were only recently starting to kiss him again, but the burns didn’t bother you. You were happy to be able to touch him... love him, be close to him. Hell, even sleep in the same bed.
“Mario Kart?”
“Hell yes,” you responded, dragging him to the couch.
******
After you played Mario Kart, you ended up watching a few movies. You eventually ended up laying together on the couch, his arms wrapped around you from behind you as you heard him dozing off.
You shifted more towards him. You missed this. Being able to touch him, kiss him. You also loved getting closer with Robin, you two actually spent more time together.
You did research while he was recovering, and actually found out what was going on, and the technical name for what happened with Newt... what his “superpower” was. Spontaneous combustion. Otherwise known as extreme heat thermoregulation.
You couldn’t explain it. But you wouldn’t dare go to anyone professional. He would test on him, and then you’d never see him again. And you didn’t think you could bare that.
“Newt? You still up?” you muttered.
After a few seconds without a response, you sighed, picking up his scarred hand, tracing over the bumps and cracks of the scars. Normally with third-degree burns all over the body, it would take close to a lifetime to heal all the burns. But at least the pull kinda saved him from that. And you were somewhat thankful.
But you couldn’t help but want to try it for yourself... what was your power? Newt said it himself... everyone was different. But after he got burned, he also told you one of the deadly side effects... which was that one hit would kill you. But on the other hand... superpowers.
You slowly got up, doing your best not to wake your boyfriend as you did. You were never really one to try the product. You only ever did weed. Heavy drugs were a no-go. Were these pills really drugs though? There were no laws against them yet, and yes they were lethal, but so are knives, and they weren’t illegal because everyone has some in their home.
You went into the back room, jumping over the large hole in the middle of the floor. You opened the door to the backdoor, making eye contact with the freezer. That’s where we kept the pills that were for you two, just in case something went wrong.
You took a frozen pizza box, shaking a case of the pill into your hand, putting the box back in the freezer, closing it. You opened the case, taking the pill between your fingers, looking at it.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” you joked to nobody but yourself.
You twisted it, flinching back as you did. Your nerves were racing. It was like the first time you were about to smoke weed. You were about to be introduced to a whole new way to look at things.
You took a deep breath in, putting it between your teeth. Here we go.
“STOP!” you heard Newt yell from the end of the hallway, making direct eye contact with you, “Don’t fucking move.”
Now or never.
You suddenly downed it, the feeling of the pill going down your throat making you shiver as Newt raced towards you.
You began to twitch and convulse just like Newt did when he took Power. You felt your insides burn and clench, the most mind-splitting headache you had ever had take over your brain.
“FUCK!” You yelled out in pain.
But soon the pain died down to a dull ache as your head started to fill with words that weren’t your own.
“Fuck, what did it do to her,” you heard Newt’s voice say and you looked over, shocked to find that his lips weren’t moving.
“What?”
“Fuck, I can’t tell what her power is... at least she didn’t die. Thank fuck, I couldn’t stand losing her” you watched in awe.
You were telekinetic.
“Babe... I can hear you...”
“I didn’t say anything...?”
“No, no,” you muttered, walking over to him, putting your hands on his face, “I can hear you...”
“What the fuck are you talking about, baby?”
“Think of something. Anything. Doesn’t matter what it is, just something.” you demanded, Newt skeptical but compliant.
“Weed. Robin. You.”
“Aw, that’s really sweet,” you commented.
“Holy shit, you read minds!!” he exclaimed, pulling you in, hugging you, “You’re gonna be okay!”
“Yeah, yeah I am,” you laughed.
“Thank fuck, thank fuck, thank fuck” he repeated in his head over and over and over.
“This could actually be... really useful,” he said, out loud, making you look up at him in confusion.
“How so?”
“Well, we’re drug dealers. It would be really useful to see what our customers are thinking. It would also be easier to tell a cop from a druggie. We could really use this...,”
“Alrighty then. Whatever you say, captain,”
******
You had been using the pills all week. And it was really starting to take a tole on your body. And the extreme heat that filled Newt’s apartment really wasn’t helping.
You were now planted on the couch, taking as much Advil as you could, taking just at the suggested dose.
“Hey, baby,” Newt said gently, bringing you a bowl of soup in the kitchen, setting it in your lap, “How you feelin?”
“Tired. Sick. Tired.” you grumbled after mumbling a ‘thank you’ for the soup.
“We can give you some of my leftover pain-killers? Maybe those would help your head calm down.”
At this point, you were willing to try anything just to get rid of the throbbing of your head. You nodded quietly, gently rubbing your temples. Newt leaned over and gave you a kiss on your bare shoulder (seeing as you only had a bra and underwear on due to the extreme heat) and stood up, most likely to get the drugs.
He soon returned, a glass full of water with ice and 2 pills, handing them to you. He then sat down on the couch with you, your body scooting over and placing a pillow on his lap before laying down your head, Newt beginning to watch the movie you had on for background noise, playing with your hair, gently gliding his hands over your scalp. His other hand was rubbing up and down your back, making you drowsy, the pain pills already starting to set in.
“I love you, Newt,” you muttered.
“I love you too, baby”
And with that, you began to fall asleep, comfortable in your lover’s arms.
((Ahhaha, I love writing Newt stuff, I’m obsessed with Project Power, go watch it so you can get some of the references I hid in both part 1 and 2. I’ll continue to make more stuff on him, blurbs, and stuff. Some will be connected to this fanfic, some will not.))
#mgk#machine gun kelly#buzzfeed#machine gun kelly x reader#project power#project power newt#mgk x reader smut#mgk x reader#tickets to my downfall#concert for aliens#general admission#hotel diablo#lace up#bloom#aesthetic#tiktok#rookxx#slimxx#dubxx#keep the vibe alive forever#PROJECT POWER YEE YEE
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Wicked Game
Another round of the 5sos fic writing collab brought to you by @maluminspace and @h0tsos. There are so many amazing writers involved and I highly recommend checking out the event master list linked below. Thank you to the Sagittarius sorceress @sexgodashton for being very caring, patient, and kind while helping me tame this monster. Massive shout out to @ghostofmashton for the photo edits, especially Ashton’s eye. that’s my favorite. You’re a rock star. Texas girls forever, love you to bits!
Event Master List
Prompt: Chef AU with Cashton
Dialogue Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met” First person to spot it in the fic and send me a screenshot gets a personalized blurb request.
Word Count: 20K+ Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. This first part is about 5K
Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.
Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.
Part 1
"Great job, guys, we couldn't have had a better opening weekend. Thank you so much for making it happen," Ashton told the two staff members in the kitchen who'd closed as he unlocked the back door.
"No problem boss, glad to be here. We made money this weekend. See ya tomorrow," DeSean told him as he left.
Ashton locked the door behind them and walked out into the empty dining room, his steel-toed boots echoing heavily on the distressed blonde faux hardwood floors. He stopped to adjust a few tables, double-checking sightlines and looking over the layout of the tables. The upside-down chair legs cast long shadows in the soft pink neon glow.
He looked up at the sign above the bar that read "Anne-Marie's." He smiled, not caring if anyone thought it was cheesy to name his restaurant after his mother. His mom had always been his lucky star, and he couldn't have gotten through the last couple of years without her.
"You look so serious,' a voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts.
"What the fuck Hima," Ashton yelped, clutching his chest dramatically. "I thought you were still in the kitchen."
"The guys didn't leave me anything to do so I decided to change and have a drink with you before my brother gets here," she tossed her bag and chef's coat onto a stool grinning at Ashton. She hopped up to sit on the bar before swinging her legs around as she pushed off. Landing without a wobble she reached under the bar and grabbed a bottle of black label Bushmill's Irish Whiskey and two short glasses.
"Straight for the good stuff, I like the way you think," Ashton smirked, taking a seat at the bar.
"To simply mark the occasion, of course" she poured them each a shot before adding a splash of water. She raised her glass, "Cheers to you, Boss, and to Anne-Marie's."
They clinked glasses. "Couldn't have done it without you," he replied before taking a sip.
"Awwwwww thanks Ashtton, " she grinned at him. "Damn that's good, the whiskey makes me forgive the Irish for how dreadful Guinness is. Did you see Kevin Mackie snuck in last night? I expect a write up in the Metro on Tuesday and I know you saw Patricia Bennett," she rolled her eyes at the name.
"She makes herself hard to miss," he snorted. "I missed Mackie though. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because we were busy and I didn't have time for you to get all giggly and nervous. He got the crab puffs and the Mac and Brie and inhaled them. You were right about the nutmeg; I thought he was going to lick the plate." She opened two bottles of beer before hopping back over the bar and taking a seat next to Ashton.
"How did this weekend compare to the opening of ‘Lune Rouge’? Was it as good as the first time?" Hima finished her whiskey before shaking a pack of Camel Crush cigarettes out of her bag.
"If you get ashes on the bar Paloma will flip her shit," Ashton warned.
"I'm not afraid of her," Hima snipped, but she made sure to be careful. No sense in antagonizing their temperamental main bartender.
"This opening was definitely smoother than the first one. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. The first night we ran out of duck fat and gorgonzola before the dinner rush was over. My sous chef's sister had to run to Whole Foods for emergency supplies. We got lucky the press ignored us for a couple weeks until we got a little buzz going. This time I knew what to expect but there was also more pressure," he paused, taking a pull on the bottle of beer. "This time I expected to succeed right out of the gate."
"You succeeded there," Hima stubbed her cigarette out in her empty glass. "I really need to quit."
"You could get a puff bar and start vaping," he teased.
"I'm not a fucking junior varsity cheerleader. I can take my cancer like a big girl." She checked her phone. "Ugh it's almost nine, and it's gonna take me at least thirty minutes to get home. You're closing tomorrow with me right?"
"Yeah, I'll be in around 11 all this week. Rafi is handling brunch with Gloria but I want to be here," Ashton double-checked his phone. "Tuesday I have that interview with Men's Life and they just emailed me."
Hima saw his nose scrunch up as he read. "What's wrong?"
"I thought they were sending Taj, but instead of rescheduling the interview, they're sending Calum Hood," Ashton sneered.
"Chill dude, it's not that bad," Hima was confused by the venom in his voice. "Yeah he's a bit of a goof, but he's hot and not a pretentious dickhead. They could've sent Felipe."
"True, true," he grumbled as he saw a black Honda pull up outside. "Kabir is here."
"Shit, ok see you tomorrow, Boss," she grabbed her stuff, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran out the door, locking it behind her.
Ashton walked through once again. He made sure the lights were off in the employee lounge. Since many of his staff members used public transport or worked two jobs, Rafi had convinced Ashton to provide his staff with a decent place to take a break and get ready before or after work. He built a small shower stall, lockers, and provided clean towels, and as his new kitchen manager, Rafi took responsibility for maintaining the space. Ashton took a last look at the bar, double-checking for any stray ashes Hima might have missed before setting the alarm, locking up, and heading home.
Calum opened the email from his editor and swore loud enough to wake the scruffy brown terrier mix snoozing at his feet.
Hey Cal,
Sorry it's such short notice but Taj's mom had an emergency and I need you to cover for him. He's interviewing Ashton Irwin, remember him? He had the Lune Rouge a few years ago. Well, he's got a new place, diverse staff and we're doing a feature. Maybe even the cover if he's really pretty. Tuesday at 2 pm I'll send you the address and details after I talk to Taj. Oh, and my friend Nick is coming into town and I told him you'd show him around. It's been a while since you had a date but you'll like him. He's kinda short, but he's got big muscles, huge dick, perfect credit. You could do a lot worse.
Call me tomorrow
Sham
This isn't good, this isn't good. Calum's mind was racing. He rubbed his temples trying to think. Taj was notoriously reliable and responsible, so if he was taking off on short notice, it must be serious. It was just his bad luck it was Ashton Irwin.
He usually covered travel and sports for Men's Life while Taj handled food and fashion. Calum didn't mind taking back food and dining for the time being. He'd started in that industry, working as a line cook while he went to school for journalism. He'd quit both when a flirty, older professor recommended him for an internship at California Culture and he managed to land a real job. Professor Davis had been highly disappointed to lose him as a student and catch him making out with her son who went to the same college. He'd found a tiny shitty apartment, spent his life on the road for work, and sent every penny he didn't need to live on to his family. He didn't even date for the longest time until he met a handsome blonde with sharp features and a sharper tongue.
He couldn't remember if it was four years ago or five, but he clearly recalled his review of Lune Rouge had not been nice. Calum was in a toxic relationship with the restaurant's sous chef at the time. He'd let his personal life spill over into his work for the first and only time. It wasn't something Calum was proud of and while he felt he owed Ashton an apology, the right time and place hadn't presented itself yet. He'd run into Ashton twice since then. The first time he was with his husband, and Calum wasn't about to humble himself in front of Luke. The second encounter came not long after their marriage broke up. Calum was dating a photographer at the time, when Ashton came to the photographer’s art show. They were briefly introduced but Ashton's chilly demeanor discouraged any further conversation, so Calum avoided him the rest of the evening. He remembered being unable to stop staring at the handsome chef with the sad eyes. He'd always hoped they'd bump into each other under better circumstances. I guess an interview will have to do.
********
Ashton sat out on his condo balcony overlooking Echo Park, taking in the night air and enjoying a second bottle of IPA. Hima was right, the opening had been a smash. Anne-Marie's had the best staff he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, and aside from a small mix up between gruyere and Havarti cheese, the opening had been smooth. The alcohol hummed in his veins as he allowed his mind to wander back five years.
Lune Rouge's opening had been a chaotic mess of brilliance, balls, and blind luck. He was a year out of culinary school, newly married, and ecstatically in love with his husband. Luke was a trust fund baby; his dad ran a major studio. He put up the funding for their restaurant which procured a prime spot in trendy West Hollywood. Ashton had the idea of taking traditional French cuisine and turning it into "pub grub." Luke created a kitschy tacky cool interior with the ambiance of fairy light curtains, vintage 90's movie posters, an eye-popping pink and aqua come scheme. Featuring a bartender who doubled as a DJ, the restaurant became an immediate hot spot.
The culinary press treated them like rock stars and it went to their head. Ashton was portrayed as the mysterious boy genius, boisterous and foul-mouthed, he ran the back of the house, oversaw the business and created the menu. Luke, who's blonde-haired blue-eyed good looks were regularly described as "angelic", was the frontman, often schmoozing in the dining room, taking song requests, or slinging drinks behind the bar. They worked so well together until they didn't.
Ashton shook his head, not allowing himself to linger on negative thoughts, not when he'd fought to regain balance. He'd spent the last year freeing himself from the wreckage of his partnership with Luke. Still, tonight after the opening, alone and overlooking the city lights, his mind kept going back to the exhilaration of that first opening night. After they stayed late with the crew for a drink to celebrate, Luke's hand wandered up Ashton's thigh causing him to almost choke on his tequila. Soon Luke started whining about all the paperwork he had to do before they could go home. The crew quickly bagged it out of there, not wanting to get roped into more work.
Ashton swallowed at the memory before glancing around at the other balconies. It was late enough most of his neighbors should be asleep. Already hard, he reached down and squeezed his bulge through the thin fabric of his pajama pants.
After letting everyone else out of Lune Rouge that first night he'd been puzzled to find Luke no longer at the bar. He heard noises coming from the office. When he opened the door, he found his husband, shirtless, and waiting for him.
Ashton slid his hand into his pants swiping his thumb across the leaking tip. He heard a sliding glass door open and froze in place until he realized it was his neighbor below him chatting on the phone. He stroked himself and let his mind wander back to Luke. It had been too long since Ashton got laid, and Luke was still the best sex he'd ever had. He shuddered and bit his lip thinking about the way Luke grinned at him as he opened the office door. Before Ashton could say a word, Luke was sinking to his knees. A bit awkward given his long legs, but it didn't take long before he was letting Ashton fuck his throat. The thought of those blue eyes looking up at him as Ash's hands tangled in those blonde curls caused a moan to slip out, and his neighbor stopped talking at the sound.
"I think somebody is having sex," he heard her whisper. He almost laughed.
His dick was twitching flat against his stomach as he ducked back inside his bedroom, kicked off his pants, and grabbed a small tube of lube. Ashton shut off the light and stepped back outside.
The breeze cooled his fevered skin as he stood there looking out at the city and stroking his dick. The idea that he could possibly be seen turned him on almost as much as his trip down memory lane. He swallowed another moan thinking about how Luke's lips felt against his, their tongues tangled until he pulled back looking at Ashton with mischief and love before giving him a wink and turning around.
Ashton's breath caught in his throat as he worked his cock thinking about it. The red and white striped pants his husband pranced around in that night had been blissful torment working him up until the moment he slid those pants down and bent over the desk.
"Come take what's yours, my love, I've been wanting you all night," he cooed, wiggling his hips.
Luke was a whiny boy when he was getting pounded, and the memory sent Ashton closer to the edge. He felt his knees tremble as he increased his speed, the city lights becoming starbursts in his vision as he edged himself closer. At the moment of release, he swore he could feel Luke pushing back against him taking him in as deep as he could go.
When Ashton opened his eyes, he found himself sweaty and streaked with his own seed. He was amazed he'd managed to stay quiet, but his neighbor was chatting away obliviously. He went back inside, cracked another beer, and took it with him into the shower, trying to focus on his day tomorrow.
It was after midnight by the time he went to bed. His body was exhausted but the adrenaline from the opening weekend hadn't quite worn off. He found himself still restless and playing on his phone. After scrolling through Instagram, he found himself looking at the page belonging to the Galway Grill-- Ashton cringed at the name-- an Irish pub and microbrewery very recently opened by Luke and his boyfriend Finn.
Ashton simmered with resentment perusing the menu; they'd recycled at least half of the Lune Rouge recipes, his creations. He'd heard they'd rushed their opening to launch the week before Anne-Marie's, and even with Daddy's deep pockets the decor looked slapped together, all flash no class. He came to a picture of the happy couple and couldn't help but notice how thin and tired Luke looked despite his huge smile. He felt a twinge of concern for his ex before pushing his phone away in disgust. Rolling out of bed, he headed to the bathroom and fished an orange prescription bottle out of the cabinet. He broke a valium in half and swallowed the smaller piece with a gulp of water straight from the faucet. He scrolled through different sounds on his phone before settling on crashing waves. He spent the next ten minutes stretching and practicing deep breathing to push out any lingering negativity and troubling thoughts. It was too late to drag up the past and there was nothing to be gained. Ashton crawled back under the duvet and sank into a deep sleep dreaming of blue eyes.
*********
Hima rolled into work a little after one, pleased to see a decent lunch crowd and multiple delivery orders going out. She ordered a chicken mojito wrap for her lunch and headed back to the office to find Ashton. She found him in his chair with his laptop open on his desk, a notebook in his lap while scrolling through his phone.
"So what's the Monday morning report, Boss?" She asked, taking a seat across from him.
Ashton was beaming as he spun the laptop around to show her. "We made 30% over our projected sales. We came in right at payroll, actually a little under if you can believe that."
"I've checked the reservation book," she responded, flashing her phone. "We're booked solid for dinner Friday and Saturday and will call is 3 pm-7 pm. We're probably going to have to do that all week."
"Whatever you need. This weekend is going to be bonkers. If you have any suggestions, I'd like to do something for the staff. That reminds me, I've got to talk to Maisie." He scribbled down a quick note.
"She's already on it," Hima laughed. "The servers who struggled are coming in for extra training with her and Dakota. I have no doubt she'll straighten them up or ship them out."
Ashton nodded as Daniel knocked on the office door to bring their lunch.
"How's it going out there? Let us know if you need anything," Ashton told him.
"We've got this, Boss, enjoy your lunch," Daniel closed the door behind him.
"He's Rafi's brother?" Hima asked before taking a big bite.
"Cousin, Gloria is his sister," Ashton replied tucking into his roasted corn and quinoa salad with queso fresco.
"Are you ready for this interview tomorrow? You look tired," Hima looked concerned.
"I am tired," he shrugged. "I just wanna get this over with. I'm thrilled we're doing so well, but that's not what the press wants to talk about."
"Don't think about it like that. Anne-Marie's will stand on her own. You've just gotta get through this week. I know it's a lot," her words were half-muffled by a napkin.
"Tomorrow is the worst of it. Mackie called and is available Tuesday at one or Thursday for dinner around four. Since he's already been here for dinner, I thought I'd let Rafi wow him this time," he told her.
"Good idea, try to keep it short because if he drinks he gets super chatty. He gave a lecture at school and came to the bar afterward; he would not shut up," she warned.
"Chatty bastard, got it," he replied and they both laughed.
Anne-Marie's was his restaurant, but he couldn't have done it without Hima. She was fresh out of culinary school working as a line cook at the Hilton when he'd discovered her a little over a year ago. Ashton only lasted four months before chafing under the corporate yoke and deciding to strike out on his own. She'd been the first person he'd hired for the restaurant, guaranteeing her first year's salary out of his own pocket. Rafi and DeSean were excellent managers for the kitchen, but Hima was a coach: she understood the business as a whole. He'd let her handle most of the press and promotion, and she'd scored two big interviews.
Gourmet Table had interviewed him last Thursday The piece wouldn't be that in-depth, but they'd spent three hours photographing food. He expected the Men's Life article to focus more on him and his personal life. Calum Hood was known for his sharp pen and take-no-prisoners style. He'd given Lune Rouge two stars and a biting review during a brief stint at California Culture before he'd become known. It was five years ago, but Ashton still had the clipping somewhere. Calum had branded Lune's food as tasty and imaginative but thought the presentation was lacking in creativity. He'd ripped into the decor, calling it "somewhere between art house and frat house," and labeled Luke and Ashton "spoiled pretty boys pretending to be chefs." Luke had brushed it off with a laugh, but it still bothered Ashton.
Unlike the Hemmings’, Ashton’s family didn't have money to throw around. He'd started at sixteen, washing dishes and peeling vegetables for Chef François at Bordeaux on Hollywood. He'd taken culinary classes after high school while working full time. Sadly, Chef François had a heart attack and retired around the time he met Luke.
"You're not listening again," Hima complained, licking her fingers. "Rafi killed it with this wrap. The chicken is amazing, but the cucumber-mint salad and the tamarind chili mayo are next fucking level."
"You're right, I'm not. Sorry about that," he pushed his plate aside.
"Ok, what's got you so rattled? You've handled the press like a champ up until now. Is it Mackie or Hood? Who needs to catch these hands?" Hima stood and assumed a fighter's stance, bouncing on her toes.
"Easy there killer, I can defend my own honor. Mackie is an irritating little mosquito. He just wants gossip, but he's got enough readers so we all have to kiss his ass. Hood gave me one of the few bad reviews we got at Lune, and it stuck. He called us frat boys and said we were trying too hard," Ashton rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by saying it out loud.
Hima raised her eyebrows and smirked, "I love it when you're petty. You're always so perfect and Zen, it's annoying."
"My therapist would disagree. Oh shit, that reminds me," he straightened up in his chair and grabbed his phone. "I've got an appointment at 2:30. I'll be back before 4," he dropped his eyes to the floor.
"Ashton," her voice was soft but commanding, and he looked up. "I don't know what's going on, and if you don't want to tell me that's fine. I want you to take care of yourself, whatever that takes. Ok?" He nodded and she smiled, "You can tell Dr. Claire that I've confirmed her for 8 pm Saturday, and you're going to personally cook her dinner. We've got the 50th anniversary that night so maybe you could flex and make your Pavlova's? I'll get the berries myself."
"It's a deal; we can comp them champagne, too. I'd better get going before I get yelled at. She's a stickler for punctuality, I think it's a British thing."
"I'll hold things down until you get back," Hima gathered up the dishes and headed out with Ashton right behind her.
*********
Ashton drew a deep breath and exhaled through his nose as the reporter settled in the chair across from him. Kevin Mackie's column in L.A. Metro was the definitive opinion for restaurants on the West Coast. His readers loved the snarky tone, celeb sightings, and bitchy gossip that peppered his column. His reviews could make or break new restaurants.
"Let me start off by saying I love the decor of this place. It's rustic, but not in that played out, hipster-in-the-woods nonsense," he leaned in and lowered his voice towards the end of the comment with a coy smirk.
"You'll find no Mason jars here," Ashton replied, taking the bait. Kevin liked people who liked him, and his most recent column was a snarky takedown of "Pinterest style interiors." Ashton found the article tedious and uninspired, but there was no need to be antagonistic right out of the gate.
Ashton watched as the reporter ordered his lunch from their server Zia. He guessed Kevin to be in his forties, and he thought he could see fresh hair plugs, bleached blonde, and a bit of Botox. Rumor had it, he'd recently split with his long-time girlfriend over a fling with a much younger waiter. Ashton tried not to pay attention to industry gossip. However, his personal problems made their way into the column more than once, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction at the other man's problems.
After they'd both ordered, Kevin sat back and took a sip of his Pellegrino water and smacked his lips. "I was here the other night and I have to admit I was prepared to be underwhelmed. A menu based on sandwiches and comfort food sounded like an upscale Applebee's, but I really liked it despite myself. I was surprised to see your main girl was on the mature side, but she's efficient as hell so I get the trade-off."
Ashton's body tensed at the insult to Maisie, and he took a deep breath. Exhaling through his nose he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Kevin was prattling on with some bit of gossip as Ashton sipped on his iced coffee.
"So let's start with something simple and ease our way into the rough stuff," Kevin set his voice recorder on the table between them. "Tell me how you formulated your top-secret house coffee blend."
Ashton broke into a wide grin as he described taking two months to travel and sample different beans, learn more about the roasting and blending process. Kevin sipped his coffee and nodded as if deep in thought, but his eyes kept wandering to Ashton's biceps. He'd been baking this morning so he smelled of cinnamon, his black t-shirt damp and clingy from sweating under his chef coat.
"So we sell the house blend all year, but we have single-source coffee that's seasonal, all of it fair trade," Ashton finished proudly.
"Coffee has always been your thing if I remember correctly," Kevin said.
"True, true, and once I started roasting my own beans it became a true obsession."
Kevin followed it up with a couple more softball questions about menu details and sandwiches. Ashton expounded on his love of food. "Cooking for someone is a simple way to show care, to be enjoyed almost as much as dining should be. Food is caring and comfort; it sustains us. It brings people together in a shared experience."
"Ooh that's a nice pull quote," Mackie chuckled. "I love when y'all have media training. It makes the bullshit flow much smoother.
Ashton seethed but said nothing. He'd watched this man's pettiness wreck a good opening, and Ashton couldn't do that to his crew. Zia brought their lunch. Ashton noticed Kevin had also ordered the chicken mojito wrap.
"This looks delicious. I think it's a nice touch that you've got so much, let's say diversity, in your restaurant. That you're actually letting them make their own food makes your menu more interesting. Not all restaurants get it. Please tell me you've seen how horribly Finn ripped you off for that tacky Irish pub," Kevin glanced up at him a tiny smirk playing on
"I haven't paid any attention to that," Ashton wanted to end the interview right there.
"Oh come on, you've had to see how much he's trying to recreate the magic you and Luke once had. The menu is tired, I don't give a fuck if he is Irish. Finn has no imagination yet fancies himself an impresario. Luke's still got it though. He even asked when I was coming here. I didn't tell him of course, I'm a professional after all."
"Of course," Ashton nodded checking out of the conversation. The reporter talked as he ate which given the wrap he was eating proved especially messy and little flecks of food kept flying his way. Ashton watched the door, nodding at customers, silently willing someone to come and save him. Kevin was still talking about himself when Hima and Zia came out of the kitchen. Ashton tried to catch their eye when he felt a hand on his arm.
"I wanna ask you about that one," Kevin leaned in so he could almost whisper.
"Who? Hima? What about her?" Ashton was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer.
"What's the deal? I've only ever seen you with Luke. Did your palette change that much? India must've been a real spiritual awakening for you huh?" Kevin winked at him, thinking he was clever.
Ashton controlled his breathing trying to keep his temper in check. He looked over at the reporter who kept talking oblivious to the situation.
"Who doesn't like trying something exotic. She seems like a smart cookie. She's darker than most Indian girls you see, like a rich brown butter sauce. I bet she tastes like tumeric though."
"Get out of my restaurant" Ashton hissed, his hands gripping the table to restrain himself from physical violence. "You are not going to insult my staff, my friends, in their restaurant."
Kevin started to speak but Ashton cut him off.
"Not another fucking word" he kept his voice at a low growl so as not to cause a scene. He noticed a couple of the closest tables were already watching them. "You've said enough and I'm barely holding back as it is. Get out of my restaurant, don't ever come back, don't ever speak to me again, and if you trash me in this review I promise you I will find you and fuck you up personally." Ashton stood up and Kevin flinched, the sight would have made him laugh if he hadn't been so furious. He stepped back and the reporter scrambled out of his seat leaving his lunch unfinished. Ashton walked back into the kitchen, Hima fast on his heels. He kicked the door open to the break room and headed for the speed bag hanging in the corner. He'd learned the hard way punching walls usually resulted in the wall winning the fight so he'd given himself something easier on his hands.
Hima watched him from the door, his back and biceps rippling as he went two minutes at full speed. When he finally turned around she could see the anger had cooled somewhat. She hated that her boss looked incredibly sexy when he was angry.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" She asked when he turned back around.
"Nope, it'll just piss me off all over again, and I gotta get ready for another fucking interview. With a guy who already doesn't like me," Ashton put this coat back on and headed into the line to check on Rafi.
At least the second interview can't be worse, she thought, wishing she believed it.
*********
Calum eased his beat up Range Rover into the parking lot of Anne-Marie's amongst the Mercedes, Audi's, and Teslas. He cursed the traffic when he checked the time. He was late, and they were busy. Not a good look he thought, grabbing his bag.
He smiled at the ladies waiting for a table before introducing himself to the impossibly serene hostess. He was quickly led to a table in an alcove not far from the kitchen. As he pulled out his voice recorder and notebook, he noticed a young woman heading his way. Her black hair was knotted tightly in a bun on top of her head, and her chef's coat had a large streak of what might be hollandaise sauce. He remembered his editor, Jacqueline, telling him Anne-Marie's had a female sous chef. He checked the notes she'd given him quickly as she was stopped by a server. Hima, Culinary Institute of America graduate, 23, Indian maybe?
"Hello I'm Hima Singh, you must be Calum Hood," she greeted him. From up close, he noticed that her eyes were a rich golden brown and that her smile didn't reach her eyes. He chalked it up to her youth; his editor said she was 23 but she looked like a teenager. He mentally stopped himself there. He'd become jaded by one too many husband/wife teams in recent years trying to rebrand a post-divorce startup as a "new adventure." While the divorce was true, Calum knew Ashton's history.
"Yup that's me, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hima," he shook her hand, relieved to see her relax a bit.
"Chef Irwin will be out shortly. He's helping with a problem in the back" she glanced towards the kitchen, and Calum had a feeling she was lying.
"Can I get you something while you wait? Do you like coffee? We have a house blend cold brew Chef Irwin selected himself that we roast and grind on-site," she asked motioning towards the sign listing the daily selection of teas and coffee.
"Thanks, but maybe not coffee. I'm nervous enough without more caffeine," he admitted, "but the lavender and blackberry infused lemonade sounds amazing." He smiled and her face softened.
"Absolutely," she signaled to Zia who brought Calum his drink and a basket of warm, fluffy yeast rolls with Anne Marie's cinnamon honey butter. The smell reminded Calum he'd skipped breakfast as his stomach began to rumble.
"So you're Chef Irwin's sous chef? I heard a rumor you were a partner as well," he asked, almost drooling as he tore into the soft bread, watching the steam escape.
"Yes sir," Hima's smile finally reached her eyes, and she sat down across from him. "When he got his core team together for Anne Marie's, there's three of us total. Desean and Rafi are his kitchen managers, and he gave us the opportunity to buy in as minority investors, no pun intended."
"These rolls are incredible. Please take one before I finish this whole basket and ruin my lunch. How long have the three of you worked for Ashton, excuse me, Chef Irwin?" He asked.
"Desean and Rafi were part of his Lune Rouge crew. They go way back, but he met me fresh out of school and took me under his wing," she told him.
"Did you go to CIA?" Calum was jotting down notes, getting a feel for the story.
"I wish, it's so pretty up there. My twin brother attended Brown, and I went to Johnson and Wales so we could stay close."
"You're a twin? Is he a chef as well?" Calum asked.
"Are you kidding? He's a lawyer, of course, my parents had to have one in the family," Hima laughed.
Zia appeared beside their table. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rafi is looking for you, Hima."
A worried frown replaced her warm smile and Calum felt his nerves bubbling back up. He glanced around and caught sight of Ashton, flushed and sweaty from the heat of the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. Their eyes met, and Calum felt like he'd been hit by lightning.
Hima saw his reaction and whipped around to see what Calum was looking at. Spotting her boss she quickly excused herself and hurried to the back.
Zia cleared her throat and Calum realized she was still standing next to his table.
"Would you like to try Rafi's plantain skewers while you wait? It's my favorite thing here, and it'll leave room for whatever these geniuses cook up," she asked with a smile and a wink.
He nodded and she headed to the server station to put the order in. Calum looked around and started taking notes. The most striking thing about the decor was how they'd used diffused skylights for soft lighting to accent the Nakashima-style crafted wooden furniture. Thanks to his Mom’s love of Antiques Roadshow when he was younger Calum discovered his preference for natural grain wood and bespoke pieces. He liked the use of pastel neon signs to complement the muted green and blue tones of the mosaic tile floors and he thought the framed pictures of what he assumed were family photos of the staff provided a really nice personal touch. The largest photo was in the bar of Ashton and his mother, the restaurant's namesake, Anne Marie.
Zia set a plate down in front of him. "The boss will be out in a minute., Let me get you some more tea," she told him.
The skewers consisted of chunks of pineapple, plantain, red onion, and sweet potato grilled and dusted with chili powder and brown sugar served with a yogurt sauce for dipping.
Calum was almost finished with the first one when Ashton came out of the back, making his way towards him. The chef stopped to talk to several customers, the hostess, and Zia before he made it to Calum's table. Cal licked his fingers, wiping his hands clean with a Sani-wipe before standing up and offering a handshake.
Ashton took his hand and Calum wasn't expecting it to feel so soft. Caught off guard Calum stammered out an introduction as he sat, but he noticed Ashton just nodded, barely listening.
"If today isn't a good day we can reschedule," Calum sipped his tea, his throat suddenly dry.
"I'm here aren't I?" Ashton snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, his hazel eyes narrowing at Calum. "I still remember your first review you know."
Calum's pulse was racing. He hated confrontation, and he hadn't expected Ashton to kick off right away. He knew he'd better suck it up and apologize if this wasn't going to go completely off the rails.
"Listen, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have been such a dickhead." As he spoke Ashton scoffed at him and Calum felt his cheeks get warm. "I was young and stupid. I let something personal affect that review. I'm sorry."
"Personal? With Luke? What do you mean by that?" Ashton went from annoyed to hostile.
Calum realized he'd said something wrong but wasn't sure what exactly. He was floundering trying to think of what to say next.
"Nothing with Luke, no no no. I was involved with Finn and we weren't getting along. It's so stupid I know, but I think you're a great chef. The new place looks incredible, and Hima is a delight."
The anger drained from Ashton's face, leaving him looking empty and sad. His head dropped to his chest, and Calum held his breath waiting for him to speak.
"I'm really sorry, it's not you, but I can't do this right now. Maybe we can reschedule or something. My apologies, but I have to get back to work," Ashton mumbled, standing up.
Calum spotted Hima watching them from the podium, chewing on her lip, her black eyes wide with concern as Ashton hurried back to the kitchen. Calum started to get up but she was too quick for him.
"Well, aren't you lucky. I'm going on my lunch and I hate to eat alone," she slid back into the seat across from him. "Please forgive my boss. He's had a rough day, but I'm better company anyway." She waved to Zia who headed their way. "You gotta try the toasted gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce if you like cheese, but if you want something lighter the apple carrot kale wrap is excellent too," she smiled at him, and to her relief he smiled back, both of them realizing the situation might be salvageable after all.
(A/N: y’all my tag list, much like my life, is a hot mess. I know some of what I write isn’t for everyone. If you want tagged in part 2 of this fic or my upcoming smuts, pink kink series, or dad!calum series please let me know. I apologize for my previous mistake)
@sublimehood @tea4sykes @be-ready-when-i-say-go @scribblesos @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @wildmichaelflower @castaway-cashton @damselindistressanu @notinthesameguey @cashtonasfuck @irwinkitten @mermaidcashton @malumsmermaid
#calum hood#ashton irwin#5sos writing collab#cashton smut#cashton slash#Calum Hood smut#ashton irwin smut#cashton#calum 5sos#ashton fanfic#ashton 5sos#5sos
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Do you any other Hawks fic ideas you'd like to write? Or is Hawks-sensei all you've got on your mind right now?
Wyv. You know not what you ask. I have to put them in categories, Wyv. Categories.
Kid!Hawks:
-Kid!Hawks growing up with the LOV (both as a permanent thing and various ridiculous drabbles) This involves Unwilling Big Brother Shigaraki, scarily willing Big SisterToga who knows all the coolest knife tricks, Best Uncle Twice who sometimes on his real good days doubles as temporary Dad, the Dad who teaches you how to hot wire cars and laugh people’s money straight out of their wallets Compress, mother-henning can-not-leave-you-alone-for-one-god-damn-minute Spinner, True Mom Kurogiri, Big Sis Mag who seems to be the only actual one that realizes that children need to sleep at some point for the love of god, extremely confused but horrifically soft Dabi who may or may not eventually turn his whole life around because of this feathered idiot that needs someone to make sure he lives a happy life whether it be a permanent shrinking or not. Oh, and Machia. The best Mountain Monster Dog brother (?) a boy could ask for.
-Kid!Hawks with UA (staff edition) also both in temporary and permanent circumstances. Temporary is already in progress. Permanent? Oh boy, permanent world. They raise him within UA so as to keep him from the Commission. Hawks often sits in on their classes with coloring books, picture books, or just to sit there and watch them. He is very smart. He picks up on things, but mostly he just likes being around all the staff. He picks a new person to sleep with every week because some of them have really shitty sleep schedules and even as a kid he knows they would feel bad keeping him up, thus forcing them to go to bed through good-person guilt so he tragets the sleepiest looking people for the week (hint: Aizawa gets picked a lot, and even if he’s not sleep deprived Hawks would pick him because he adores his grumpy cat Dad). Thirteen does crafts with him all the time. She watches every kid show and gets really into it with him. Hawks and Mic make the meals and they sing the entire time. They sing together throughout the day. Hawks will chirp out a line of notes and out of nowhere Hizashi will burst in to sing the lyrics. Midnight reads him bedtime stories cause her voices are the best. She does his nails and lets him do hers. He practices on the UA students to surprise her with new designs (the students fall over their own feet to offer to be his test subject). Snipe does little challenges with him. Things that, while technically helping him get used to controlling his quirk, are more fun than anything else because Hawks enjoys using his feathers in games. Hawks dresses up like a cowboy for an entire month, quoting old western movies and driving everyone but a very proud Snipe up the wall. Hound Dog and Hawks go on walks together ALL THE TIME. They explore the woods around UA and Hound Dog tells Cementoss to change up the geography every once in a while so they have something new to explore. He teaches Hawks how to go camping and Hawks fricken adores him and is always on his shoulders just kicking his feet or napping in Hound Dogs hair. Ectoplasm is Hawks favorite person to play any kind of tag based game because the others are too easy to catch with his feathers. But with Ectoplasm and all his clones? hawks goes nuts. Ectoplasm cried once when Hawks asked Aizawa for peg legs for Halloween and when someone asks him if he wants to be a pirate he says no because he wants to be a super cool hero like Ecto for Halloween. No one will be as cool as him. Hawks fricken loves Vlad. Like, adores him. Whenever Vlad is in the room Hawks will just go hang off his shoulders, or tuck under his arms with a book to read, or just lean against him. He has a little stuffed bull dog that has Vlad’s exact resting bitch face and carries it with him every time he leaves the dorm because he feels safer with it. He goes to Vlad when he’s injured because Vlad just takes care of it, gives him a hug, and doesn’t tell him to be more careful. Just asks if Hawks learned something and moves on. Hawks and Nezu are penpals. They see eachother every single day, but they are penpals. Hawks grows up with the most beautiful calligraphy handwriting because he keeps trying to out-do Nezu’s. He absolutely tattles on every single teacher in these letters, giving Nezu years worth of blackmail. Hawks thinks Nezu is a stuffed animal until he is fourteen because Nezu never fesses up. He just thinks the staff is even cooler for letting a stuffed animal run the place. He only ever cries around Nezu.
-Kid!Hawks UA(Student edition): So many. There’s lines I’ve written where they’re still in school when Hawks is kidified. When they’re already pros. In Canon, in Hawks-sensei, I even a small blurb sentence of Deku running a preschool that Hawks gets put into in an AU with quirks still. I can’t even... there’s too many students, cause I’d do all 1-A and 1-B. My favorite one to randomly wake up in a panick and write about though is the one where it’s Hawks-sensei verse based and Kid!Hawks gets taken in by the Monoma family. Rui and Eiko are older and Monoma is a pro-hero by then. The pure amount of fluff, sass, and Hawks spoiling that will happen. Big Brother Rui and Bigger Sister Eiko. I think about this one a lot.
-I’m currently (slowly but progressing) writing a gift for @saltwater-sweets where Kid!Hawks is taken in by the Uraraka family. Like, he’s not even shrunk in this one. Uraraka’s newlywed parents were involved in the accident he first saved people in and they found him before the Commission. They realized his homelife situation and opened their home to him and now he is Uraraka’s big brother and that one line I threw out there? About him being a global superpower in household moving? Teaming up with Uraraka for that? Yeah.
-Kid!League of Villains and adult Hawks. Yeah, you heard me. They all get shrunk instead of him. And he can’t just... turn them in. They’re kids. They haven’t done any of the crimes their older counterparts have. And if it’s a permanent thing? They stay kids? Then he has a chance to really, truly save them. To give them the happy lives stolen from them. The Commission doesn’t like that. So Hawks takes them and runs. Dabi can be an adult too, I guess, if that’s the ship or something, but I just really wanna write Kid!LOV and Dad!Hawks.
-Kid!Aizawa. Dad!Hawks. Same concept. Beautiful dream. Need I say more.
-Kid!Hawks, Best Jeanist
-Kid!Hawks Gang Orca
-Kid!Hawks RUMI!!
Vigilante Hawks:
- Raven was born and I dived down that rabbit hole so fast I went back in time. Raven. But from a way earlier age. Those guys mugging Hawks when he was fifteen? The spark. Hawks stayed on the streets, he never went back, and he learned some things. He got some freedom, learned some shit, and realized that hero society was pretty fucked up. Shigaraki starts the LOV up and realizes there’s this whole underground community he was never aware of that Hawks has been building for years. It’s great.
-Hawks was never found by the Commission so he was never ‘Hawks’. His Dad raised him as a criminal but Hawks, with his little heart of gold, took every chance he could to make something good out of the bad deeds. Then he got old enough and he took full control. You ever seen the Levi OVA’s of Attack on Titan? Where he’s walking down the stairs and you realize every single person there is part of a huge ass gang of awesome with Levi at the head? That. THAT.
-Hawks loses his shit in Canon and goes completely AWOL. full Feral. He sees the problems, and he is prepared to do whatever it takes get rid of them. Whatever it takes.
AU Hawks
-Horribly injured, recently retired at the ripe old age of 23, and looking for something to save him from depression. Hawks meets Todoroki Fuyumi who gets him a job at her school. This one makes my brain happy.
-Takami Keigo and Todoroki Natsuo meet in college, graduate together, join the same hospital, and open one as partners as soon as they can. Ship or no ship, they go through their entire lives together. (I just... I really like the Todoroki sibs, okay?)
-Takami Keigo was born a lot earlier. So much, earlier, in fact that he is classmates with this overly optimistic ball of light named Yagi Toshinori and the grumpy ball of flame Todoroki Enji. Big Three anyone? Also, everyone needs a dumb smart birb to keep them sane. Hawks loves his friends, and he’ll kick anyone’s ass that tries to hurt them be it physically, mentally, or emotionally. Also, he meets Nana.
-I LOVE THE IMAGINARY KAMAKIRI FAMILY DYNAMIC OKAY?! literally anything with Hawks involved in their lives, okay?! I did not expect to spiral so hard when I made up Hideo and his relationship with Kamakiri but my god did I spiral! I just really love them!
-I’m a sucker for the classics. Tattoo/flower. Coffee shop. College. Roommates. Love.
- (she made me write this) a story surrounding the amazing love story of my sister and Iida Tenya with Aizawa crashes the wedding even though he was invited and Mirio is her maid of honor, with Eri as the ring bearer, and All Might is the flower girl. Twice is the officiator. Uraraka releases a flock of fake pigeons (not real ones cause they don’t deserve that). Oh, and everyone else is there too, I guess. Except for Mineta. Cause he’s in jail.
Right now, at this very moment, I can not for the life of me think of any others but I KNOW there’s at least seven more that I just can’t remember because my brain is work dead. Wyv. @wyvernspirit do you see what you’ve opened here? Close the box! Close it before it’s too late! There is always more! I am never without MORE ideas!
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Two Years. (Pt. 1)
This is a continuation of the blurb I wrote a couple of days ago. This time from the reader’s perspective. It got longer than expected, so I’ll post the second part later.
Hyunjin x f!reader.
Warnings: Great amount of teeth rotting fluff, slow burn and poorly written clichés.
Words: 2209.
The first time they met, she didn’t pay him any mind. It was the other guys, louder and bolder, spitting English like they knew what they were saying, who caught her attention. And the two guys, the only ones she could actually have a conversation with, were the only people she managed to befriend. They were sweet, outgoing, it was easy with them.
She had been looking for opportunities everywhere, trying to get off her city any way she possibly could. When she found a university course that would send her far off, she found herself sending a portfolio without hesitation. The chances of getting chosen were slim to none, but she would try nevertheless.
Time passed as always, until one morning she received an e-mail, in which she was told she had been chosen for an intern program for one of the most important entertainment industries in East Asia. It was like she couldn’t function for what felt like an hour, looking at her phone and re-reading the e-mail over and over. Her brain had to restart itself by the time she jumped off her bed and went right straight to call her dad.
She was sitting in the bathroom, moving her feet and playing with the trim of her pants, when he picked up. The conversation was rather long, by the time it was over she was all ready to go to her university and talk with the University’s Secretary to get everything ready for her to leave as soon as humanly possible.
Granted, it had taken them far longer than she had anticipated, and with each week that passed, she grew more and more anxious. She had reached the conclusion that she no longer wanted to leave. She didn’t know the language, didn’t know anyone there and she had to begin all over in a new university, with a job, and afternoon classes to learn Korean. She wasn’t ready to face all of that alone.
But what she did have were good friends, and a father who would not take a no for an answer at this point. He and her grandparents were willing to risk a good amount of money- money they barely had- for her to leave and make a life for herself, something she never knew he would be so up to. And, to make the matter even more bizarre, her friends helped him talk her out of it. She had to do it. She would probably never have an opportunity that would even get close to matching the one she had at that very moment. She had been dreaming about something of the sort ever since she was a kid. And now she wanted to back out? After all she’d been crying and complaining? Not a chance. They would not let her, never.
So, a couple of months later, she had left alone, for the very first time, to a country she did not now. She wasn’t excited, she wanted to vomit, she hadn’t slept for the past week. She was afraid, the knot in her stomach made everything hurt. She even started sobbing in the middle of the flight, wanting nothing more than to go back home.
Since then it had been so long. She remembered getting to her apartment, it was small and empty, but it gave her some sort of relief to know she could spend a couple of days on it, to help her get used to everything. And, while moving the sofa all by herself for the third time that day, something kind of clicked. She realised how lucky she was, even though nothing seemed to go her way in her mind, she was in fact very lucky. She sat on the floor, though the sofa was literally behind her, and cried once more. Maybe from the realisation, maybe to cry one last time before she had to face what now was her new reality, maybe because she was afraid, or maybe because she missed home. To be honest? It was probably all of it at once.
So, she had gotten the job, she was going to class and she was attending Korean lessons as well. She tried very hard to see the bright side, for there was a very bright side to the whole thing. In the short time she had been there, she had even made friends. Which, for her, was a great improvement from how she was before.
She also had gotten somehow used to her job, even though she barely did anything she had signed up for. She was more like an assistant to the creative team, along with other interns. She even started helping the stylist team of the band she apparently worked specially for.
That’s when they actually met. She had seen them from afar, laughing and dancing, being a bunch of very young and hyperactive dorks. But now that she could see them up close, they seemed even younger than she was. She didn’t have to interact much with them, which was a plus, as she had zero social abilities. She only had to help with whatever the stylists needed, and that she could do.
Soon enough she was helping do the makeup for the boys, and started talking to whom she considered the human reincarnation of sunshine. He had the softest voice, and his accent just added to his whole absolutely adorable aura. They could spend hours on end talking about the most trivial stuff. He was hyper, never stopped moving, and laughed so much his makeup creased absolutely everywhere, to the point of driving her insane.
He was the one that started asking for her to do his makeup, because he grew fond of the way she liked to play with his look and not cover his freckles. The ridiculous number of selfies they took ended up drawing the attention of the leader of The Dorks, who started joining them in their impromptu photoshoots. Soon he sat next to them, adding a new approach to the conversations.
It was a matter of time before he started talking about their projects, their concepts, what he agreed with, what he was completely against off, what he wanted to do and where he wished to take them. It was her kind of conversations, the ones she could actually add something to. And so, they talked about their ideas until the wee hours of the morning, looking at their phones with a smile.
He was, in fact, older than her, caring and protective. A really fun person to be around, and he had a creative ability like no one she had ever met before. He came up with ideas at the weirdest times, spent hours on end working on them without reaching anyone to even let them know he was alive. Then, after disappearing for days, he just came back with a smile and a bunch of new ideas.
He helped her with her apartment, and she had to admit it was easier building IKEA furniture with help. They spent hours buying stuff for her apartment, he helped her finally find out how she wanted to decorate the whole thing. And, after a while, Felix started popping up at her door too. With drinks and snacks and his big, bright smile that made his eyes tiny.
They talked about how they always spent time together because they were so far away from family, and how sticking together had been the only way to not lose themselves in the midst of it all. She found them incredibly cute, seeing how they truly behave like siblings and thinking that, maybe, they were including her in their tiny family. It made her warm and fuzzy inside when the world around her was getting colder and the sun was setting earlier, making everything darker.
Even then, when she got called to an actual meeting in which her opinion was asked for, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Chris talked for her, he showed the team the ideas the both of them had developed, the designs she had made, the concepts they had created for months. They had everything planned out to the smallest detail. Chris even had some of the songs already written out with the other two guys he used to hang around with. They got a break and went out for coffee, while she was still in shock.
“I can’t believe that just happened” She looked at him when she heard his laugh, his hands going to the pockets of his denim jacket. “What did you tell them?” She pushed him with the side of her body, making him trip a little on his own foot, but he just laughed again. Seriously, he had the ability to make her blood boil.
“Nothing much” He finally answered. “I just showed them some designs, told them a couple of ideas. They asked me a bunch of stuff and I just said I had to go get my associate so we could talk it out”. He had a smug smirk plastered on his face.
“That’s not a good look on you”. Her finger was pointed at his face and he softly slapped it away. “You didn’t do that. Don’t play me”. He faked being hurt by her words, taking his rather small hand to his chest. But it was true she didn’t believe him. It was too good to be true. The fact that someone would talk about her in a way that would make the creative team actually want to hear what she had to say.
“Why would I be lying?” He shrugged it off and pointed at her cup with his chin. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, alright. No need to think about the petty details”. She was still looking at him like she wanted to crack his head like an egg so she could read all his thoughts. But she did that sometimes so he simply let it slide.
In the end they accepted their concepts, with the condition that it should all be ready to be formally presented the next month. And that’s how she found herself working more than she ever even thought possible. With her days full from the rising of the sun until the day was officially over. She spent hours in the studio with Chris. While he played stuff on his computer, his headphones so loud she could hear the music he was making even from the other side of the room, she was coming up with the designs she had been asked for.
On the weekends she worked on her university work, meeting with her classmates to get the group stuff done as quickly and as efficiently as possible. It was all taking a toll on her and she was very well aware. She was always tired and running on caffeine, she barely had time to breathe. She had even started skipping Korean classes because she just couldn’t make it anywhere in time. But she also refused the help that Felix was offering her, even though he was also studying and the study sessions would benefit them both.
When the day came for them to do their presentation, she found herself gripping Chris’ arm for dear life. While the creative team presented the work, they had also been doing alongside them to make sure it was all perfectly thought out, they just waited in the studio. Sprawled on the sofa and looking at the ceiling, she didn’t know how Chris could look so unbothered by the situation. She was crawling out of her skin, losing her mind every second that passed by.
“We’ve done our best”. He looked at her, his cheek squished against the sofa. “There’s nothing else we could do, so let it go. You’ll see how it’ll pay off”. She payed him close attention as he looked at the ceiling again. Chris really didn’t know what sleep actually was, huh. He looked exhausted, paler, the skin a dark purple hue all around his eyes. She couldn’t be mad at him, how she would usually be as someone reacting so poorly to a stressful situation. Her answer was a curt nod instead, leaning her head on his shoulder.
When they got a call from the team telling them it had all been approved, they went out for food with everyone and had the best night she had had in a very long time. It was, also, the best sleep she had had in months, to top it all.
Everything seemed to have fallen into place. She had made friends at work as well as in class and she was learning the language faster than she ever expected. Her apartment finally looked like a home. She was even planning on adopting a kitty to keep her company when she was doing work at home. The place she was so scared off months ago now seemed a little more like somewhere she would love staying in the long run. Somewhere she belonged.
What she did not expect was, after all the work she had put on that project, to embark another one that would require her all her might so as to not lose her mind.
Because when the cute boy in the Gucci hoodie-the one she had never paid attention to- asked her if she could help teach him English, in that soft voice with his hands in his pockets and his eyes glued to his feet, she knew she was ultimately fucked.
#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin imagine#stray kids#stray kids boyfriend#reader insert#hwang hyunjin#shall forever adress Chan as Chris
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This just came in my mind and now i really wanna read something based off of it🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖 "do you need me because you love me? Or do you love me because you need me?"
Damn, I had to think about this for a few minutes. My heart just went 🙁 anyway, here’s a lil blurb! hope you enjoy!
also I think I wrote something like this that ended really sad LOL here let me link it!!!
Word count 939
~
He’s been acting differently lately. Y/N knew the moment they began dating, things would probably change for the worst. He’s had issues with commitment and she needed him to commit to her and so, although he wasn’t ready he asked her out. Maybe, it was a wrong move on his part but the moment he met Y/N, he knew he had to keep her. She was everything he ever wanted. She was sweet, had a great sense of humour and never failed to show him support.
Y/N didn’t want to be the girl to force someone to do something just for her sake but she believed that with her little push, Harry can take a step in the right direction that can help blossom their relationship. She just didn’t know that there would be more obstacles along the way.
They’ve been together for 8 months and have already said I love you to one another but recently, Harry has been distancing himself away from her. He’s been so hot and cold with her. He sometimes spends his nights at her place or sometimes he can go through a whole day without contacting her. It definitely did make Y/N feel like she was just there whenever he needed her. He was slowly becoming emotionally unavailable and she noticed it.
“Babe, are you leaving after dinner?” She asks as she and Harry set up for dinner at her place tonight. It’s been a couple of days since he’s seen her and with a sweet text from him. He decided to spend some time at her place.
“No, I was planning on staying here for the night and just love on you because I miss you.” He smirks as his hand takes a hold of her chin so he can give her a quick peck on the lips.
“I missed you too.” She gives a small smile. In reality, she didn't know if she could tell Harry how she'd been feeling. She’s scared he would be offended and get angry at her. She didn’t want that to happen but she needed to know why she felt a change of vibe in their relationship. “Can we talk after dinner?” She shyly says as she sets the spoons down. Harry gives her a confused look and pulls her chair out so she can sit in it.
“What happened, are we okay?” His heart was racing because he knew whatever she had to say was serious enough that it had to wait for dinner.
“Of course we are, I just have to ask you something.”
“Ask me now then baby, it’s alright.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to put on his best poker face. Can she tell that he’s shitting his pants right now? This has been his first actual relationship since he became famous and he can’t imagine that she wants to leave him.
“Later. Tell me what you’ve been doing these past few days.” She takes hold of his hand to give him a bit of reassurance.
“Oh yeah. I’ve been rehearsing in the studio and have been planning for my tour.” The night carried on with the couple catching up but no one in the room can deny the tense mood in the room.
As dinner was finished, Harry tried his best to keep quiet and just clean as quick as he can because his heart wouldn’t shut up. He’s becoming a nervous wreck. His eyes unconsciously make it’s way on Y/N a few times as he tries to watch her expression. She’s sitting on the couch just biting her lip.
“Okay, let’s talk.” He sits beside her, watching her carefully.
“I don’t want you to get mad but I need to hear this from you. I just need you to clarify something with me.”
“What? Okay.”
“Do you love me because you need me?” His eyes grow wide as he stands up and faces her.
“What type of fucking question is that?”
“Harry…”
“No.” He looks at her disappointingly. “Why would you even think like that?”
“Because… you’ve been acting so hot and cold with me. Some days, you act like the sweetest boyfriend ever and some days you act like we don’t know each other.”
“Have you realized that I have to plan an international tour by September?” He tries his best to not yell at her. After all, he’s not that type of man but now it feels like his worst fear is coming true. Does she think that? Is she planning on breaking up with him?”
“Of course I know that but I don’t like how you flip the switch on me all the time. I’m so confused and I’m scared you’re going to break up with me because you probably weren’t ready for this.”
“I am ready for this because I don’t want to lose you.” He sits back down and takes a hold of her hand so she can cuddle him. “I’m sorry, you’ve been feeling this way.”
“I’m sorry if you think-”
“Don’t even try to apologize baby. It’s not your fault.” He takes hold of her hand and watches his fingers play with hers. “I need you because I love you. I need you so much that sometimes I just want to quit my job and be a regular guy that can bring you anywhere you want to be. I just want to love you and make the happiest girl in the world.”
“I love you, Harry.”
“I love you more my baby. I promise you won’t ever feel this way again after all you’re my adviser.
#Harry Styles#harry styles blurbs#harrystyles burbs#blurbs#harry styles angst#Famous!harry#harry styles one shots
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Book Recommendations: Dystopias
A lot of people find dystopian fiction depressing. I actually find them uplifting, since it makes the real world seem a whole lot brighter! Well, I can’t promise that the world right now is actually any better than them, but we can dream. Here are some of the best. All blurbs written by me unless otherwise specified.
Also, this post deleted itself halfway through me writing it. Ah, the things I struggle through for you people. The reviews I painstakingly re-write. The show must go on.
The Handmaid’s Tale (and The Testaments) by Margaret Atwood - The Republic of Gilead is ruled by right-wing Christian extremists, and freedom for women is a rare commodity. Offred’s value lies in her reproductive ability, stolen from many other women by high levels of radiation. She must find a way to escape before she outlives her usefulness.
I know, I know, it’s typical, but hear me out (or scroll down for more original ones). This book is heartbreaking, it’s beautiful, it’s terrifying and most importantly it’s very applicable to modern society. I’m sure you’ve all heard people go on for ages about how it technically excels, but I want to talk about how Atwood never once falls into the trap of showing characters getting stronger by making them more masculine. Offred and the other female characters all embrace their femininity in different ways, and they are all strong while also being women, something many young adult writers seem to think is impossible. I expect nothing less from this great author. The Testaments went through the same prejudice as all sequels from reviewers, but I think it was wonderfully done and answers plenty of questions about Gilead and the world watching it.
Chaos Walking (The Knife of Never Letting Go, The Ask and the Answer and Monsters of Men) by Patrick Ness - There are a couple of strange things about Prentisstown. There are no women, and everyone can hear each other’s thoughts. Even the animals. Todd Hewitt is the youngest one in town, and he’s determined to find out the secrets of his home.
Ah, Patrick Ness, the only author on the planet who can reliably make me cry. And hoo boy, is there lots of crying to be had in this series. Emotional turmoil ahoy! No but seriously, once you get over the way the main character’s accent is written (which made me pass by this book more than once) the story told throughout the series is deeply heartfelt, frightening and above all human. Topics from war to gender to segregation to what it means to be human are all covered in a way suitable for youngsters while also managing to be compelling and intense to adults. A slightly offbeat dystopia, but one with worldbuilding that cannot be scoffed at.
The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay and The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes) by Suzanne Collins - Panem is divided into 12 districts, who each provide cheap labour for the illustrious Capitol. Each year 24 children are forced to fight to the death to quell uprising in the districts. That is, untill Katniss Everdeen comes along to shake things up.
Everyone knows the Hunger Games. But if you’ve only watched the films, I strongly suggest you read the books. The media industry did what the Capitol did, and threw out the real story to focus on a romance that isn’t even real within the context of the books. If you have read the books, check out The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It’s a prequel, focusing on how President Snow got to be... like that. Despite mixed reviews I really enjoyed it, and it was very nostalgic for me, considering I was pretty much obsessed with Panem for several years.
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury - Montag is a firefighter, but not in the normal sense. His job is to burn books, protecting the people from the knowledge within. A meeting with a teenager called Clarisse has thrown his worldview into disarray, and his wife is going insane.
This book is standing in for all my old dystopias - 1984, Animal Farm, We - for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I recently realised 1984 creeped me out as a kid because of how r*pey it was and I need to re-read and re-assess whether I like it or not. Secondly, because I think it’s really quite poignant in the current information age. We have access to the internet to co-ordinate, learn and educate each other. The sum total of all human knowledge is here. If we didn’t, would we be able to rebel as we do now? Or would we simply go along with what we are told, because we have never been told otherwise? Also, Ray Bradbury is a legend and is likely to pop up in my upcoming short stories list quite a lot. Bear in mind that this is a very thinky book so don’t pick it up as a light summer read, pick it up for introspection and criticism of censorship in our society.
Vox by Christina Dalcher - Women are limited to 100 words per day, at risk of a near-fatal electric shock if they overstep. Girls are swiftly losing the ability to speak, read and write. Dr Jean McClellan is going to change that if it kills her.
One big criticism of this book is that it’s too similar to the Handmaid’s Tale. I have to agree to a certain extent, but there are some key differences that make it a worthy read on its own. The pace, for one thing, is a lot faster, with more action which might make it a great option if you haven’t got the patience for Atwood’s style. It feels a lot more like a typical young adult dystopia without losing any of the moral punch of HT. Also, it emphasises the importance of communication for rebellion a lot more than HT. I think its message needs to be said again and again, and that the stylistic and plot differences not only make it accessible for more people but also lend themselves to a more personal story. Let the reviewers whine. It’s one of my favourites.
The Broken Trilogy (Broken Sky, Darkness Follows and Black Moon) by L. A. Weatherly - Amity is a Peacefighter, charged with competing in dogfights with other regions’ representatives in lieu of actual war. But corruption has its teeth deep into the Peacefights, and there is a tanged web of espionage, rebellion and... astrology?
Yep, that’s right folks, this is a dystopia in which your star chart determines whether you live or die. Sure, it sounds goofy, but surprisingly enough it works extremely well as a premise, and who are we to talk trash about insane government officials? Amity is a deep, exciting character, and she’s joined by a really compelling cast including a secretive astrologer and Amity’s love interest. Unfortunately, the love story feels quite forced, but fortunately the rest of the story is so good you can struggle through. The first book is a slight trek to get into, but once you do, there’s a hell of a cliffhanger waiting for you. I shall say no more.
And that about wraps up my forays into dystopian fiction! As you can probably tell I’m obsessed so expect a second post when I’ve collected a few more. Might have to divide it into feminist and other :/
#bookblr#book recommendations#book rec#book recs#dystopia#dystopian#the handmaid's tale#margaret atwood#chaos walking#patrick ness#the hunger games#suzanne collins#fahrenheit 451#ray bradbury#vox#christina dalcher#broken trilogy#l a weatherly#reading#apocalyptic
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chapter 16 of don’t read the last page is here!
masterpost
[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]
“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”
The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.
Kristoff had always been a patient person. He wondered sometimes if it had started when his parents had adopted his oldest sister, or a few years before that when he had been a ward of the state waiting to be wanted, or perhaps he had just been born this way, stoic and solid, slow to anger and quick to forgive.
The magazine display in the checkout lane was testing that right now.
She had been excited about that photoshoot with People just a couple of weeks ago. “They want me to be on the cover!” she had called to tell him on her way home from Sam’s office. “And do an article about, y’know, my rise to fame and stuff. I mean, it’s not Vogue or anything so it’s not a huge deal, but still!”
He didn’t really recognize her on the cover. They had slimmed her down for some reason, when just last week she had come home from a doctor’s visit upset because the doctor had told her he was worried about the rate at which she was losing weight when she had already been slender. “I just don’t have time to eat on set sometimes,” she had explained to Kristoff as they went through the grocery store together, both of them in sweatshirts with the hood pulled up. “And then I’m dancing all day, and then I’m stressed as fuck, and I just…”
(He’d packed her lunch every day since then and left a note in each bag. She sent him a picture one day of all of them taped up around her mirror.)
Somehow worse than that, though, was the little blurb in splashy pink letters: Anna Arendelle Rises To Fame...And Falls In Love? Find Out More On Page 36!
She’d done the interview before the Hans debacle, and when they’d asked if she had ever been in love before she had said, “Oh, absolutely. And it’s the most amazing, wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d take that over the fame any day.”
It had been romantic when she had told him about it later that night when they laid tangled in bed together. It was less romantic now knowing that it was followed up in the article with a whole paragraph about her New Year’s duet with Hans Westergaard.
Between the two of them, they had almost all of the magazines on the rack covered, most of them promising “details about their budding romance inside!” One particularly abhorrent one actually had a picture of Kristoff next to her one day sitting on a park bench; he’d had his hood on, and she’d made the mistake of keeping hers off and leaving that unmistakable red hair on display. Still, he had no idea how anyone would be stupid enough to think he was Hans, considering he had a good five inches and thirty pounds at least on the other man. Then again, the same magazine promised proof Prince William was a lizard.
He turned that one around so no one else could see it, and then picked up a Twix-- Anna’s favorite-- and threw it in the cart. On second thought, he grabbed another; he needed one, too.
---
"Damn, is that really gonna work under latex gloves?"
Kristoff jumped and slammed his laptop shut. "Jesus, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to look over people's shoulders?"
The vet tech grinned. "Yeah. But I think when you see your favorite intern looking at engagement rings, you can make an exception. That bloodwork came back clean, by the way. We can send him home tomorrow."
"Thanks, Ryder."
The other man plopped down in the seat across from him. "Pay me back by finally telling me more about this girlfriend."
He groaned. "Why are you so invested in this?"
"I already watched all the good stuff on Netflix. Now I'm bingeing coworker drama. Casey and Paul are fucking, by the way, which is why--"
"They suddenly both started volunteering for kennel clean-up, yeah. Obvious."
"So give me something better to talk about. Like why you were seriously looking at a heart shaped stone."
"It's romantic!"
"It's cheesy. She'll hate it. Probably."
"How do you know so much about women?"
Ryder waggled his eyebrows. "I'm kind of a love expert."
"Didn't you tell me once you were perpetually single?"
"Exactly. I know exactly why to avoid all the bullshit. Stop changing the subject. What's her name?"
"Anna," Kristoff said before he could stop himself, and Ryder grinned.
---
had to talk to hans today bc we r shooting stuff together again
he was super apologetic
said it was a waiter who filmed n leaked it n that he called the company
.
Do you believe him?
.
idk
he said the bowtie thing was to match the confetti not me
i think i believe that part at least i mean why else would he have had a silver one lying around
.
Maybe he already had some ready no matter what color you wore.
.
idk i think that’s too creepy even for him
it is right?
god i can’t think about that today
He waited a long time before texting her again, keeping his focus on the puppies he was giving their first shots instead of why today was apparently the wrong day to think about just what Hans would do to capture her attention. As hard as clinicals were and as exhausting as it was, this was the work he had dreamed of doing his whole life, and the fact that it required his full attention when he most needed a distraction from the rest of the world was the cherry on top right now.
But then the puppies were vaccinated, and it was already four o’clock, and all that was left to do for the day was check on the animals who were staying in the kennels overnight, and his mind couldn’t help but wander as he went from cage to cage.
“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”
The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.
Anna had gotten home before him for once that night. She was already in the shower, and she didn’t emerge until he’d already cooked dinner and was half-considering digging in to his plate. “Oh! Hey, baby,” she said as she came into the kitchen, still only wearing her towel. “I thought I heard you in here.”
“Jesus, Anna, how hot did you have the water? You look like a lobster.”
“Nice to see you too,” she said, trying to tease, but she looked away from him instead of coming over to greet him like she always did with a kiss.
He went to her instead and stood before her, not touching her like his heart was screaming for him to do; she leaned away, just barely enough to confirm his suspicions.
“You had to do a kissing scene today, didn’t you?”
She only nodded.
“It wasn’t really you guys,” he said softly. “Just your characters. Did he-- did he try anything?”
“No, not at all. He was a perfect gentleman, and it went just fine, and after he made sure I wasn’t bothered since he knew I was kind of upset about all the hubbub but...I don’t know, Kris. I don’t know what’s acting for him and what isn’t.”
A tear slid down her cheek and spattered on the floor. Still he didn’t touch her, waiting to let her make the first move. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Me too. I’m sorry I...god. I’m sorry for everything.”
“I’m not upset about it, though,” he lied. “In case you were worried.”
She stepped closer to him then, pressing her still-damp forehead against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his thumb rub gentle circles over her shoulder. This is why, Kristoff, he reminded himself, this is why you can’t tell her.
“I love you,” she said, sounding so forlorn he could have sworn he felt a little crack open up in his chest.
“Love you too. More than anything.”
---
He still didn't understand exactly how to use Twitter, but he did know enough to understand that when he logged in and saw stuff about Anna before he even searched her name, something big was happening.
Exclusive new behind the scenes photos from Anastasia! Click here for more:
It already had six thousand retweets, and dozens of replies all screaming about the photo of Hans and Anna clinging to one another. They were in full costume, surrounded by cameras, and the photo was grainy, but still he couldn't help but zoom in on Anna's face, the way she gazed up so lovingly at Hans, the same way she used to look at him before she started running so low on time. Now it seemed he only ever saw her when she was asleep or halfway there.
"Didn't take you for a Disney fan, Bjorgman," Ryder said from behind him.
"Not Disney. It's Fox," he muttered, knowing it was useless to rebuke him for peeking yet again.
"My sister works on that set," Ryder said proudly. "She does Anna Arendelle's hair and makeup."
"...Honeymaren is your sister?"
"...what the fuck? I thought I was the nosy one. How the hell do you-- oh my god, is that your Anna? The one you’ve known since high school and you live with and--”
Kristoff stood up suddenly, his chair screeching with the movement. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice unnaturally harsh. “I’m serious.”
For once, Ryder looked serious. “Jesus, man, no need to go all ‘I’m six-foot-four on me’. We’re friends. I wouldn’t fuck you over like that.”
His heart was pounding. He could trust Ryder-- he wanted to, at least, but it had been a secret for so long, and already even without other people knowing his life had been upended, and if it got any worse he might have to--
“Kristoff. Seriously, man, I’ll forget you said anything.”
Ryder looked wounded somehow as he turned and left. Feeling guilty, Kristoff called after him, “Wait, it’s just--”
Ryder glanced back over his shoulder. “We’ve all got our shit. I’m here to talk if you need.”
He walked away, and Kristoff found himself standing alone in a room silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and his own breath, harsh and heavy in his chest.
---
Sweat poured down his back as he ran harder than he ever had before, his legs pumping like he was desperately trying to get somewhere that remained forever just out of his grasp.
He had woken up that morning to an empty bed and a post-it on the fridge with an apology. Meeting with Sam before filming, completely forgot. So sorry xo
She hadn’t even remembered to grab her lunch from the fridge. She probably had forgone breakfast too, and they were in the thick of filming now, doing the huge dance scenes that seemed to take all day and half the night and left her so exhausted sometimes he had to help her undress.
Last night had been one of those nights, and the night before, and this night would be the same, and his lungs were burning, and he’d already gone five miles, sprinting the whole way, and by the end of the day he would be too sore to move, but he still didn’t know what the hell to do and so he just kept running.
---
He was covering the front desk today for the receptionist, whose daughter had just had a baby; normally he wouldn’t have volunteered for something like this, would have wanted to stay doing what he knew best and getting as much experience working with the animals as he could, but as much as he hated talking on the phone to people, he knew he was likely to do more harm than help in the back of the clinic today.
Mercifully, the phones hadn’t been busy so far that morning. He stared, distantly curious, at his hand as it rested on the mousepad, trembling as if he wasn’t sitting perfectly still in a room that was by all standards a little over warm.
A styrofoam cup filled with shitty breakroom coffee appeared just in front of his fingers. “We’ve been taking bets on how long you’ll last out here without falling asleep,” Ryder informed him. “I said another hour, but it was looking iffy for a second there, so I brought you this.”
“Thanks, man.”
He ignored the cup and went back to watching his hand. He didn’t know a lack of sleep could do this. He’d have to keep that in mind next time he was scheduled for a surgery the next morning, would have to find some way to fall asleep in spite of his own mind.
“I, uh, I told my sister I know you. And that I know about it. If that’s okay, I mean,” Ryder said hurriedly. “She’d told me before about hanging out with Anna, and so I just kinda put two and two together and assumed she knew.”
“‘S fine. She’s known the whole time.”
“I, uh, I asked her if she knew why it was a secret. I could have asked you, I know, but, uh...you know how you are with secrets. Figured if I wanted the truth--”
“Just tell me what you want to say. Please,” Kristoff said, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee in the futile hope it would help.
“Just...that it sucks. Especially with this shit with them saying she’s dating Hans Westergaard. Wish I could tell you ‘I get it’ or something. But I don’t, so I, uh, just...yeah. But I hope the, y’know, engagement ring thing that I saw you looking at that one time...I hope it works out.”
Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me, too.”
---
“They seriously won’t just let you call in sick?”
“I mean, I could, but at this point, I’m in all the scenes that are left, and I can’t just halt production for a whole day just because I’m sore, especially when we’re going to Russia in two weeks, and they’re all depending on me, and I can’t just--”
“You sprained your wrist,” he said flatly. “This is more than just being sore.”
“I know, but we already filmed one scene with it, I got Honeymaren to put some foundation on it so you can’t see the--”
“Anna,” he said, his voice so strained she finally went quiet.
He grabbed one of her makeup wipes off the bathroom counter and came back to where she was perched on the edge of the bed. He took the injured wrist in his hand as carefully as he could and started gently dabbing at the nearly-invisible lines of makeup. She winced, and that crack in his chest widened a little more, deepening further as the green and brown smudges faded into view.
“Jesus,” he muttered, and her fingers curled into a fist as she tried to pull away, embarrassed. “Anna, no, I just-- how did you manage this?”
“There was this stunt with the train scene, and nobody else was going to have a stunt person do it, and so I...I wanted to try and see if I could do it, but I just...I don’t know, Kris, I just fucked it up, I guess.”
He bit back everything he wanted to say; what good what it do, anyway, when everybody else seemed to be encouraging her to push herself this way? Instead, he leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to her palm. “Let me get something to put on it.”
When he came back a few minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, she had already curled up on her side and fallen asleep, still fully dressed. He sat beside her, lifting her head onto his lap. She still didn’t wake up, and so he carefully raised her injured wrist, holding it gently as he could as he pressed the makeshift cold compress against it.
He stayed holding her that way, for a long, long time, until the peas had thawed, and then he went to the kitchen and threw them out and leaned over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face, wondering how much one person could bear.
---
Mid-February had finally rolled around with all its gray skies and sappy pink storefront displays. She was leaving in thirty-six hours, and he hadn’t seen her since the night before, because he’d gotten up two hours earlier than normal to come in early so he could leave early and take her out on the date they’d been planning since even before New Year’s, the one to make up for her being gone for the next three weeks and missing their first Valentine’s together.
It wasn’t that he gave a single fuck about the holiday; it was that she did, and so he’d put his heart into planning it all out: they were going to drive outside of the city limits, just enough that anyone who saw them might do a double take but still keep walking, but not so far that they would get back home too late for anything else. He’d found a diner just like one they used to hang out at in high school, one where they could order a giant strawberry milkshake to dip their fries into and spend all the quarters they could find in her car on playing cheesy old love songs from the sixties, one where if they got lucky they could risk holding hands under the table without anyone seeing.
He was already half-dressed after showering off the day’s stress, expecting her to come through the door any minute, when his phone buzzed.
i’m so sorry
He was half-tempted to throw the phone out the window. Maybe if he didn’t read the rest of the message it wouldn’t come true.
He looked again anyway, that now-familiar crack in his chest widening into a full-blown chasm.
i’m so sorry, something happened with the plane tickets and then the schedules changed and so they want us to have a meeting
hans said we can do it at his place (🤮) since we’re all tired of the set
but at least that’s towards where you said we were gonna go
i’m so so sorry kris can you pick me up from here? ill just ride over with him i guess so i can leave my car here
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, putting the phone aside to bury his face in his hands. How the fuck had they gotten here? This wasn’t supposed to happen; they were supposed to move in together, and it would all be fixed, and he’d see her enough, and it was all going to be fine, but it hadn’t been fine for so long he was starting to wonder whether it would be again.
His hand, his arm, his whole body felt like it had been filled with lead when he picked up the phone to respond. Of course, baby. Just call me when it’s over.
He finished getting dressed and went to sit on the sofa; figuring at least he could turn on the TV and find some stupid show to drown out his thoughts. His eyes flicked down to the Netflix button on the remote; what the hell, he thought, you already feel like shit, might as well see her during it.
He put her movie on, the stupid Christmas one he’d helped her run lines for, and watched her-but-not live through a dreamy, whirlwind romance, even almost smiled at the scene they had read together on his living room floor all those months ago; he closed his eyes for the kiss at the end, even though he’d seen the movie before with Sven when it first came out, he didn’t know if he could take watching it right now.
He kept watching while the credits rolled, jealous of all the people whose names scrolled by for every second they got to spend with her, not knowing how he coveted her time. It was getting dark; he glanced at his phone, expecting to see that he’d missed something from her, but there was nothing.
He went to the kitchen and cracked open a beer; he wasn’t normally one to drink when he got like this, but tonight-- tonight something felt different, like the air was suddenly running out of oxygen, like the walls of this house they had thought would be full of so much happiness were closing in on him.
He finished it; still nothing. It was late enough now she’d be too hungry to wait through the drive up. Fine; they’d get McDonald’s, or order a pizza, or he’d cook pancakes for her-- he didn’t care, he just wanted to fucking see her before she left, just wanted to be with her and no one else and pretend that it could be that way all the time.
He cracked open another beer. Another hour passed, and the frustration that had been pooling in his gut had started to ferment into worry. She was never quiet this long; something had to have happened, something had to be wrong.
His jaw was clenched; he released it, thinking it would lighten some of the tension coiled tight in every part of him, but it didn’t. He felt hot and cold and too big and too small all at once, a bundle of aching and anxiety bouncing around the prison of his own skull while he waited to hear something, anything.
Suddenly he could take it no more and stormed out the front door, snatching up his keys and heading for the car. He had it started, had his hand on the gear stick to pull it into reverse when a sudden horrible thought hit him: what if she didn’t want him to pick her up? What if she wanted to spend her last nights here with everyone else, with all the other people like her, the ones who kept pushing her and and demanding so much of her, all in the pursuit of-- of whatever the fuck it was that kept her going like this.
He went back inside and sat at the kitchen table, his eyes never moving from the door.
Another half hour passed, and then suddenly it swung open and she was there, her eyes wild and her hair half-out of a ponytail. “Kris, I’m so fucking sorry,” she gasped out, and he stood, striding over to her.
“I-- I rode with Hans,” she explained, already reaching for him, “and then I got there and realized my phone was gonna die, and I didn’t have my charger with me because it was in the car, and no one else had theirs either, and then the meeting just kept fucking going on and on because everyone was asking so many questions, and then I had to borrow someone’s phone to get an Uber and it turns out that that just complicates things and I-- fuck fuck fuck I’m so sorry, I just--”
“I need to go,” he said shortly, catching the door before it could swing shut behind her and slipping out into the night without saying goodbye.
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BTS reaction→they get jealous.
paring: bts x reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of smut!!
genre: angst, fluff
a/n: thank you so much for requesting angel! I hope you like it!
request a reaction! | about me
↠ kim seokjin.
Jin thought it would’ve been nice for you to come along to one of his photoshoots. You know, just to see what his day consists of and how hard he worked etc.
He didn’t bring you along so that one of his members could start chatting you up. Fuck that.
Granted, Namjoon had only cracked one joke which you had found quite funny so the only natural and polite thing to do was to laugh. Simply as that.
Except Jin didn’t see it like that, he saw only competition. He was the only one allowed to make you laugh like that, to put that smile on your face and make you that happy.
“Come Y/N.” Jin said flatly, holding his arm out for you to take.
You looked up from where you were sitting next to Namjoon. “Are guys finished already?”
He shook his head but didn't retract his hand. Feeling a little bit more awkward, you took it hesitantly and was instantly rushed to one of the spare rooms in the venue.
“Jin, what’s going on?” You questioned, as you saw his jaw tighten “Did someone say something?”
“Do you think Namjoon is funnier than me?” He questioned lowly, completely dodging your question while looking down at the floor and pouting slightly.
“Sorry?”
“Well, you seemed to find him hilarious just then! Why don’t you just go out with him instead!”
He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted even more. Without even trying to help it, you chuckled lightly before walking over to him and squishing his cheeks together.
“Kim Seokjin.” You stated “When will you ever learn that you’re the only one for me! The only one who can make me laugh so hard that I’ll almost pee!” He giggled and gently took hold of your wrists that were on his face, rubbing lightly.
“You need to remember that I’m yours. Always.” You kissed his nose. “Don't forget that!”
“I’m sorry Jagi. I love you so much.”
“I love you more baby.”
“But I’m still funnier right?”
↠min yoongi
Yoongi was all for privacy and trust in a relationship. He knew that you were loyal and wouldn’t ever do anything to strain the bond you two had
Which is why he got a little upset and confused when saw a text from a guy, more specifically sending you a bunch of hearts.
“Hey honey, I was thinking tomorrow we could go visit that new place down the road- YOONGI?” you came in from the bathroom, body still wrapped up in a bathrobe and hair still damp.
Yoongi was sat on the side of the bed, your phone in hand, staring at the notification intently.
“How long Y/N?” he said sternly
“What are you talking about-?”
“HOW LONG Y/N?” Yoongi raised his voice as he launched himself off the bed towards you. He shoved the phone into your face, making sure you read the message before he carried on talking.
“You really thought you could get away with it? I loved you Y/N, and you just threw it right back in my face! So go on, tell me what went through your mind? Tell me what I did for you to hurt me so badly?”
“Yoongi.” you started simply “That text message is from my friend Evan.”
“I can fucking read, Y/N”
“Let me finish. My GAY friend, Evan.”
That for sure, shut Yoongi up.
“S-So he likes-“
“Yes Yoongi, he likes dick!”
At this point, your boyfriend looked more embarrassed than angry. He gently sat back down on the bed.
“I’m sorry baby, I just get so angry with the thought of losing you.”
You joined him by sitting next to him, taking hold of his hands and bringing it to your lips “I would never do that to you my love. You’re too important.”
“I need to make it up to you though Y/N, that wasn’t fair on you!” Both of you sat there for a few moments before he smirked and started to untie your bathrobe belt.
“I have the perfect way to make it up to you.”
↠jung hoseok
“This is so nice Hobi!” you cooed at the the beautiful layout of the dinner table set out in front of you. It was your 2 year anniversary and Hoseok, being the sunshine that he is, decided to take you out to eat. Obviously, he did not disappoint.
“Anything for my princess!” He smiled, pulling your chair out and tucking you in, then walking around the table to his seat. You both scanned the menus briefly and decided on what you were having
“So, have you two settled on what you’d like to eat?” The waiter pulled out his notepad and started to jot down the meals you chose.
“Perfect choice for the beautiful lady.” He winked as you finished reciting your choice, not even realising the obvious flirting of the man.
‘Is he fucking serious?’ Hoseok thought to himself as he walked away. He looked over at you to see if you had noticed too but there was no sign of discomfort nor blush upon your cheeks.
So he decided to ignore it.
Bad idea.
During the night, you at some point had to use the ladies room, which resulted in leaving Hoseok the table to himself for only a few minutes. The waiter decided that this was the perfect time to swoop in.
“She’s a fine piece of work, am I right bro?”
Breathe Hoseok breathe, he’s just being nice.
“I don’t know about you, but I'm gonna shoot my shot.”
He’s joking, don’t worry about it. Just ignore him. He knows she’s yours.
“Here, give this to her. It’s my number, tell her to call me asap. Thanks bro!”
He doesn’t know. This guy is trying to date your girlfriend.
And as he looked at the napkin with digits in his hand, he felt the anger stream through his veins. Finally seeing you exit the bathroom, he took your hand and led you out of the restaurant without a word being said.
“Hobi? Where are we going? We have’t finished yet?”
“We’re never going back there Y/N, ever. I don’t trust it at all.” He growled, eyes only ahead of him.
Because you trusted his judgement, you let him lead you further and further away without asking any further questions.
You did find out about his frustration that night though, but that's a whole different story.
↠kim namjoon
Something you and Namjoon both had in common was the love for your books. It was one of the qualities of you that he fell in love with when you first met. You even had your first date inside one of those bookshops/cafes.
So you two made it a tradition, every two weeks or so, to go to the nearest library or bookstore and pick out a book for either yourselves or each other.
Namjoon was in the middle of reading the blurb of one book in particular when he heard an all too familiar laugh come form the other side of the aisle.
“Haha yes! The character in this book is such an extrovert you’re right!” There you were, a couple of novels held against your chest, chatting to the clerk that worked here.
“Ah I'm so glad I've found someone who’s read this book! You must be special!” The clerk smirked and leant his elbow on the shelves.
Namjoon felt himself tense. Even though he couldn't physically see the situation fold out, he heard all of it and the tone of voice the clerk was speaking in?
Nope. Not on his watch.
Quickly, he made his way around to where you were, immediately greeting you with a kiss and and a soft grip around your waist “Have you chosen a book yet baby?” He murmured, not even taking a glance at the man in front.
“Uh yeah, I just need to go pay! It was so nice to meet you Josh!” You took Namjoons hand and led him to the front desk.
“Honey, that wasn't fair.”
“What wasn’t?”
“That guy!” you turned around to face him “You made him look like an fool!”
“Well if he wasn’t trying to act like a fool and try and steal my girlfriend, we wouldn’t have a problem now would we?” Namjoon said, taking the books from your grasp and walking towards the counter.
↠park jimin
“Yes Y/N, that’s it you got it!” Hoseok yelled over the loud music that was blasting through the speakers. You smirked at your reflection as your body move in time with beat.
Jimin was leant up against the mirror beside facing you, smiling at the talent being presented. He applauded loudly as the music came to a stop and you finished with your ending position.
“You looked so great baby!” Jimin sang and embraced your sweaty figure. You buried your face into his neck, still breathing heavily from the exercise.
“I agree, but there’s one move I’d like to touch up on!” Hoseok started the music up again but at a lower volume. “During the spin, it’d look even better if you rolled your hips, like this.”
“Um okay?” You focused on yourself in the mirror once more, trying to mimic the man bedside you. Jimin laughed as he saw you fail, looking more like a solid piece of wood than anything elegant.
“Y/N, don’t focus on your stomach it’s more about the hips!” Hoseok stepped closer to you, putting firm hands on your waist and guiding them. You smiled, getting the grasps of it.
Jimin took your smiling for a totally different reason.
Abruptly, Jimin stomped out of the practice room, at which, you followed him.
“Baby, what’s going on?” You gently took his hand from behind but he brushed it off, turning around to face you.
“Bet you enjoyed his hands on you right?” He snapped, running a hand through his hair “Bet you’d love for him to make you feel good instead of me huh?”
You were too shocked to say anything else and the hesitation made Jimin even more upset. “I knew it.”
He went to turn around again, but you grabbed his face before he could. “Jimin, you will always be the one to make me feel good. Only you. No one else.”
Jimin closed his eyes and sighed “You promise?”
You held out your pinky and he took it, smiling lightly “I promise.”
↠kim taehyung
“Taehyung!” you screamed, trying to get your wrist out of his grasp, as he dragged you away from the nightclub towards the car park.”Taehyung let go of me!”
He ignored your whines and opened your side of the car door before hoisting you up from the legs and into the seat. He got in on his side and started up the car, driving through the empty roads of the night.
You could clearly see he was pissed off, by the way he gripped the steering wheel and the way his jaw was tightened. The sound of the wheels turning on the road was the only sound that filled the car.
You figured it was best you stayed quiet.
When you pulled into the driveway, he didn't even wait for you to get out before he made his way inside the house.
After a while of being home, you two still hadn't exchanged a word. he had locked himself in your room and hadn't come out since the evening outing. When you deduced to finally hit the hay, you knocked on the door lightly, not expecting and not getting a response.
“Tae?” you whispered, walking into the room quietly. You were met with the back of your boyfriend who was curled up under the covers. “Tae, are you awake?”
“What do you want Y/N?”
Hi booming voice somehow made your heart swell, hearing his voice after hours of its absence made you miss him even more. You crawled onto the bed bedside him and put your head on his shoulder, stroking his hair.
“Can we talk love?”
You heard him heave a big sigh before he turned around to face you “You think it was nice to see my girlfriend dancing with another man all because she wanted to make her boyfriend jealous?”
You looked down in shame.
“You know how dangerous that was, beautiful?” The pet name told you that Taehyung was no longer angry. “Anything could’ve happened to you, you’re so lucky I was there to drag you away.”
“I’m sorry Tae.” you said quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt innocently “It was stupid of me.” He sighed once more before pulling you into a warm cuddle and kiss.
“I’m the only one you can dance with like that, okay?”
↠jeon jungkook
Jungkook should be happy at this moment, he really should. Many people would kill to be in his situation right now, knowing that the woman on stage, doing all these seductive moves, was all theirs.
But he was far from happy.
See, he didn’t want everyone to be looking you like THAT. He didn’t want the imaginations of other people to go wild about something that was his. The way people were looking at you with the overflow of lust in their eyes.
Absolutely not.
Which is why after the performance, he pulled you into a spare dressing room, and started desperately kissing your neck.
“Jungkook! What’s gotten into you!”
“You think that was funny princess?” he mumbled against your skin, hands roaming all over your body. “You loved the attention didn’t you baby? You loved the screams and stares didn’t you?” You moaned at the sensation, gripping and tugging at his hair.
“And what if I did?” You said cockily. Jungkook growled and picked you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. “Be careful babygirl, you don’t wanna misbehave now of all times.”
“Make me.”
Thank god the music of the concert was loud enough.
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fallingforyou (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)
@its-mikha asked: Sweetie, maybe..Can you do an Duncan Shepherd x Reader where the reader and Duncan are BBF since they were kids, Y/N is now famous liberal journalist in all DC, strange no? a liberal journalist and a republican lobbyist being friends. Well, they both love politics (in there on ways) But this not about politics, this is about some confession that Y/N NEEDS to tell to his friend, but what happened if he doesn't feel the same thing as her? She couldn't risk to lost his only friend mostly, fluff :3
A/N: This was too cute and I was gonna just make this a small blurb but I kept going whoopsies! Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for sending it in!
Word Count: 2.0k
A nudge on your calf broke you out of your daze.
“You okay, Y/N?” Duncan asked from his spot beside you on the sofa. In public, his appearance was pristine. Pressed slacks, expensive watch, perfectly polished oxfords, not a single wave in his dirty blonde head out of place. But in the confines of his gigantic apartment, you’d never be able to tell that that same Duncan, the Duncan that wouldn’t be caught dead with a wrinkle in his shirt, was sitting beside you. He was completely at peace. Hips clad in grey joggers, wearing an old college tee with letters faded past the point of recognition. Glasses with large, clear frames hung low on the bridge of his nose, Duncan having been too lazy to press them back up due to the takeout tray of DC’s greasiest Chinese takeout in his hands. He was comfortable here, claiming that you were the only person he’d ever let see him like this. You were his best friend, which had posed quite the problem as of lately.
“Mhmm,” you gave him your best fake smile, pretending your mouth was too full of chow mein to give a proper response.
“Liar. You’ve been acting weird all night. For the past few weeks, actually. First, you haven’t said more than 5 words this whole time. Second, you didn’t even try to fight me when I turned off CNN. Not one smartass remark about Ted Cruz or the new legislation from the Senate. You haven’t even pried once to get me to talk about how the votes are gonna go for the session tomorrow. Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You seem to forget that we’ve known each other since we were 7. I know when something’s up.”
“I’m fine, Duncan. Just tired. Work’s been kicking my ass. My boss wants that piece I’ve been working on about the Women’s March for the past 8 weeks soon and I just want to make sure it’s perfect.” You reached over and plucked a potsticker from his plate with your chopsticks, hoping the playful gesture would make him drop the subject.
Duncan just glared at you from the opposite end of the couch. He was good at reading you. Too good for your liking, but he’d had nearly 20 years of experience. You two met in second grade and had been joined at the hip ever since. You learned how to ride bikes together, got drunk for the first time together, learned how to roll joints together, held each other through your first heartbreaks. Together, you made quite the odd pair. You’d taken different paths in college, him going off to work for his conservative lobbyist family and you taking a position with a well-known liberal journalist company, but he knew you like the back of his hand. You knew him just as well.
“Okay, well I still don’t believe you. So you’re gonna have to start talking because I’m not leaving until I find out what’s got you in a mood.” You huffed at his prying and fixed your eyes back to the television, trying to concentrate on whatever the narrow-minded Republican news anchor was rambling on about.
You’d come to the realization in the past few weeks that you loved Duncan. Not in a platonic way. Not the mutual love you had for each other having literally grown up together. You were in love with him, it just hadn’t struck you until recently. A boy you’d been seeing for 2 months broke it off suddenly, claiming that you cared more about spending time with Duncan than him. He was just insecure, or so you thought. After some reflecting, you realized his sarcastic remark of, “God! It’s like you’re in love with him or something!” was right on the nose. But it wasn’t the giddy, infatuating love that spurred on you suddenly. It was the slow, gradual progression from companionship and genuine admiration into an all-consuming love you weren’t quite able to explain with words. The lengthy stares you gave as he passed by you after a shower, a short towel wrapped around his waist, or the way you’d catch yourself staring at the beauty mark on his top lip couldn’t be dismissed. It was your mind pining for the boy you barely remembered not having in your life. You didn’t think you could ever be this comfortable around anyone in your life. But you knew for a fact that he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t.
Duncan half-heartedly tossed what was left of his dinner on the coffee table and turned his torso to face you. He leaned down to where your feet were tucked under your thighs, tugging your ankles out from beneath you in a manner that almost send the noodles in your hands flying.
“Duncan! What the fuck?!”
He chuckled at the shock on your face, climbing on top of you and carefully taking the bowl from your hands, placing it on the end table beside you. He was hovering over you, propping himself up against the armrest. The close proximity of his face from yours brought a flaming heat to your cheeks and a swell of butterflies in your belly.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Please, Y/N. I don’t like sitting here knowing something’s bothering you.” A look of genuine concern washed over his features. The wrinkles in his forehead now smooth, the muscles in his mouth relaxed, the blue-green hue of his eyes softening at the sight of you.
“Your breath smells like shit,” you jokingly jabbed. Anything to change the subject. You weren’t ready to lose your closest friend when he found out why you’ve been acting the way you have.
“Oh yeah?” Duncan retaliated by blowing his hot breath directly into your face, sending you into a fit of giggles and squirming.
“You’re disgusting, Duncan. Get off me,” you breathlessly demanded, the words barely coherent from laughing.
“Ehh, you still love me,” Duncan stated. He placed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before moving back to look you in the eyes.
It felt like the room was closing in on you. With the way Duncan was looking at you and the position, you were in, it was almost like he was mocking you. It was unfair. Unfair that you felt this way and there was nothing you could do about it. Unless you were prepared to deal with whatever Duncan had to say, to hear him tell you that he didn’t feel the same, you were going to have to keep your feelings bottled up forever.
In the silence that normally would have been comfortable between the two of you, you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to jump out of your skin. Duncan’s eyes kept flickering from your eyes and to your lips, then back again. You were frozen, paralyzed under him. Your chest rapidly moving up and down, heart beating in your ears.
Without giving you time to brace yourself, Duncan pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle and soft like he felt you might crumble beneath him if he used too much force. You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t even comprehend what was happening until he quickly pulled back from your face, practically jumping off of you and moving back to his corner of the couch to safety.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I...I just thought that... I’m sorry.” Duncan began rolling apology after apology from his tongue, clearly mortified that he had done such a thing and that you were too shocked to reciprocate. You sat up and faced him, fingertips running over the skin of your lips that still tingled from Duncan’s touch, adrenaline pumping in your veins.
“Duncan,” you began, a burst of confidence suddenly taking over you. You made your way to him, scooting over until you were straddled across his waist. His hands instinctively moved to your hips, fingers resting over the fabric of your sweatshirt. Well, it was Duncan’s sweatshirt, but you’d claimed it as yours long ago and he’d never bothered to put up a fight for it. With the roles reversed, you closed in on him, moving torturously slow, like you were waiting for him to stop you. But he didn’t. He met you halfway, sighing into your mouth when your lips finally melted together. His hands moved from your hips to cup the back of your head and hold you close to him, like in an instant you would regret your decision and run from him. This was it. The man you had been pining after for what felt like an eternity, the man that had been there for you through every obstacle in your life and in your career, was sitting beneath you, kissing you back.
“I love you, Y/N. I always have,” Duncan confessed as he begrudgingly broke his lips away from yours. “I realized a long time ago that no matter how many girls I went out with, no matter how they made me feel, it was never the same as when I’m around you. You’re home. I’ve told myself that I could be happy just being your friend, that just being with you was enough even if you didn’t feel the same. And it is, it was. Seeing how upset you were over that guy that broke up with you a few weeks ago made me jealous. You deserve someone that makes you happy, not someone that makes you cry.” The color had drained from his face. Like he might vomit over everything he had just said. It was his deepest secret. And he’d just spilled his guts to the one person he’d never wanted to find out.
“When?”
“When, what?” His eyelids fluttered, anxiety-ridden and feeling like his heart was about to be broken into a million pieces
“When did you realize you loved me?”
“We were 17. You made me sneak out of my mom’s house at 3 in the morning and took me to that abandoned boat house by the dock to talk shit about your sister and smoke a bowl. Then we got chased out by that fat cop that threatened to arrest us for trespassing. I remember looking at you running through the woods and thinking there was no way in hell I’d ever do something like that for anyone else as long as I lived.” He was being honest, not a stitch of hesitation in his voice. You felt your stomach twisting in knots. This whole time you’d both been in love with each other and were too oblivious to see it.
“I wasn’t crying because he broke up with me, by the way,” a smile creeping onto your face. Duncan looked up at you with confusion, not knowing what you were getting at. “I was crying because he told me I was more in love with you than I was with him. I didn’t even realize it until he screamed it in my face. This whole time, the only person I cared about had been right in front of me my entire life.”
You were both laughing now. Duncan’s hands snaked from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You could smell his obnoxiously expensive cologne mixed with the grease from dinner on his collar.
“Guess we’re both idiots, huh?” He rubbed soothing circles on your back as he stared at the ceiling.
“Clearly.” you chuckled into his neck, nose brushing against the scruff you’d once been completely against, but grew to love over the years. For the first time in weeks, you relaxed around Duncan. Finally certain where you stood with him, and knowing for certain that he loved you back.
~
Tagging:
@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26@venusxxlangdon @wroteclassicaly @aveiangdon @belusima @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies
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I love your alpha!Cal fic! Keep up the good work! Also wtf is it about werewolves that are so appealing?!?! Cause like i seriously might have a problem. Help a girl get her fix and write a werewolf!Luke blurb or something? Anything? Please?!?! Just more werewolf stuff! Youre so talented i cant wait to read more from you!
okay, sweet anon, i’m awfully sorry this ask took me so long, but i got really caught up in the second part of alpha!Cal, hope that’s an excuse and also kept you occupied, anyway, love ya and hope you’ll like this
so, Luke is a soft boi and nobody can change my mind. So he’s a soft werewolf. He’s a pure blood and is a part of Ashton’s pack. He never was ambitious enough to become an alpha, met Ash when they were in their late teens and became the first pure blood in Ashton’s pack.
Lara went to school with Luke. Her parents were in the Ashton’s pack, so she saw Luke becoming a wolf from the very beginning of his way. She was a year younger, but somehow always won Luke over in everything. She was always better at sports, got good marks not even trying and was badass in general. Guys worshipped her, but she was only interested in picking on Luke, always teasing him for being a softie with a guitar (yes, werewolf Luke plays guitar! and he’s great at it! come fight me!!!)
At the very end of his senior year there was a sports competition and the opponents played very dirty, so Lara, being a worrier she is and always fighting for justice, after the judge didn’t listen to them, decided to fight with her fists and basically attacked the other team’s player. Well, almost attacked, because Luke, acting with his wolf’s speed, caught her in the act. He was holding her tight across her frame, pressing her arms to her chest and whispering her that she’ll only make it all worse, while she was kicking up the heels. Luke had to carry her away from the scene to make sure she’ll calm down without breaking anybody’s nose. But she had to throw her anger at someone, so she started shouting at Luke and even tried to hit him couple of times, but he dodged and somehow that only made her angrier.
“What, scared i’ll kick your ass, Hemmings?”
“I’m not gonna fight you, Lara,” he answered, frowning.
“And why is that?”
“I don’t-” he hesitated for a moment, wanted to say he’s not fighting his friends, but were they friends? So he stopped in search for a better word, but she didn’t give him any time.
“What were you gonna say?” she asked, her tone cold as ice and low. “You don’t fight girls?”
Luke rolled his eyes, cause that was like exactly what he was NOT going to say, so he goes sarcastically, “Yeah, Lara, of fucking cour-”
He can’t even finish a word. Her fist meets his jaw and he has to take couple of steps back not to fall. Luke knew she had a good hit, they were training together as wolves too, but he didn’t expect that. And judging by the horror in her eyes, she didn’t expect that either. And Luke was ready to believe that she’d apologize right now, but something cracked inside her, her anger back in her eyes and she just strolled past him.
After that all the mocking stopped. It wasn’t so noticeable for everybody else, Luke left school shortly after that (spending the last two weeks with a huge bruise on his jaw), and they started seeing each other only on some pack’s gatherings. But Luke knew something was broken between them that day and couldn’t stop thinking about it from time to time.
Couple years passed. She also finished school, ascended and became another pure blood. They started seeing each other more often, being close to Ashton and working with him, but somehow they managed to keep this “non talking to each other at all” politics. Ashton asked Luke only once what was going on between him and Lara, but Luke didn’t have any coherent answer for Ashton (as he didn’t have any even for himself), so alpha dropped the topic.
And then southern packs got active again, so the pack had to get closer and the security tighter. Lara was teaching at the defence courses for girls in a different part of the town three times a week (told y’all, she’s a worrier and she protects), and of course it was like late in the evening, and she was doing it for several months, so no biggie. But that evening when she was walking up to her car, she found six feet four dude leaning on her car. His curls in a tight bun, looking at his phone and not reacting at her at all, like he wasn’t even aware of her presence. But of course he was.
“What now, Hemmings?” she asks, tiredness in her voice.
Luke looks up at her and smirks.
“What are you smirking at?”
He shakes his head, pushing off of her car. “Just thought how it was the first thing you’ve said to me since school.”
“Let’s make it also the last thing,” she rolls her eyes. “Why are you creeping here?”
“I’m not creeping. Alpha’s order.”
He walks around the car, puts his hand on a passenger’s door and looks at her, waiting for her to open the car.
Lara doesn’t understand anything at all. “What are you doing?”
“Told you, alphas order. Have to make sure you’ll get home safe and sound.”
“I will get home safe and sound,” she answered, anger boiling inside. She was a pure blood, not some weak useless omega! She didn’t need protection and she sure as hell didn’t need Hemmings to protect her.
“Yeah, well, come to Ash and persuade him, please. Not like i’m dreaming of waiting for you in a parking lot three times a week.”
She wanted to argue, wanted to do at least something, but she could’t. She knew full well what is an alpha’s order. So she sighed and opened the car and let Hemmings get in. They spent the whole way to her house in silence. When they arrived, he got out of car (in quite a clumsy manner, cause the boi is tall af), said “Night, Lara” and left her stare at his back.
The next time it all repeated the same. On the third evening they started talking, awkwardly, Luke asked her about her parents, she - if he still played guitar. But evening after evening it was getting easier and easier for them. Until one day, when he dropped his usual “Night, Lara” and was ready to leave, she stopped him and asked him if he wanted to come in for a beer or something as her parents were out of town. Luke was shocked, but he saw she was even more shocked and scared and of fucking course he couldn’t say no now.
They came inside and it was super awkward at the beginning. Lara gave him a beer and took one herself and turned on the tv with some match to fill the void. Luke was looking at the pictures her parents put up on the fireplace. Her winning spelling bee in primary school, half a dozen from different sports events, she’s always first or with awards. Couple of cups standing also there. The photo from her graduation, she had that golden ribbon of an honoured student. Of course. Always first. Always the best. Way too cool for anybody, especially Luke.
“You were always so competitive at school,” Luke mused out loud.
She just shrugged, cause what she could answer to that. That she was just trying to make a cute golden haired boy with the guitar pay some attention to her? Nope, she would never ever say that out loud.
But then he knocked her back with “Why you never left?”
“You want me to leave the pack?” she asked in disbelief, voice hardly audible.
“Of course, no! What’s with you always hearing some shit in my words?” Luke frowns. “I mean, you’re born leader. Why haven’t you ever aspired a position of alpha in your own pack?”
Lara sighed. She’d lie if she said she’d never thought about that. But she knew she was too hot headed to be an alpha. And she also required one more trait she believed to be the main. She never had it, but Luke had.
“You know how we live,” she said. “We chose our alpha and practically never fight it. There are reasons. We choose obedience and hierarchy for the sake of the pack. Pack means safe future.”
“Yeah, but you’re so strong,” Luke dropped it so simply, it’s not even a question for him. Lara is the strongest wolf he knows after Ashton and, maybe, Calum. And he’s got no problems admitting it. “Won’t believe you’ve never thought of it.”
“Why haven’t you, Luke?” she fired back, making Luke almost choke on his beer.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said as he’s done coughing. “You’ve said it yourself so many times, Lara. I’m too soft for an alpha. No one will follow me.”
Luke shrugged, his voice is soft and a little sad. It’s not like he’s upset he won’t be an alpha. He’s absolutely okay with that. He’s just sad the only girl he’s ever been in love with has always seen him as weak and soft. But oh well, he’s come to terms with that too after so many years.
But this sadness in his voice really cracked something in Lara. Luke watched numb as she stood up and came up to where he was sitting and slowly dropped on her knees in front of him, putting her half full beer bottle on the floor nearby. She takes Luke’s face in her hands, his golden curls tickle on her fingers, and says quietly, almost whisper, and Luke isn’t even sure if she actually said that or if he imagined it all, “That’s where you are wrong, Luke. The most important in alpha is kindness. And you, Luke Robert Hemmings, is the kindest person i’ve ever met in my life. And i’d go to the end of the world for you.”
And before Luke even starts thinking about what could he ever answer to this, Lara pulled his face closer to her and kissed him. Luke froze for a moment, not believing at all in what was happening. But the moment later he was already answering her with all the passion he had, because truth or not, losing a moment like that after years of pining after her would be the highest rank of stupidity. And Luke may have been soft, but almost never stupid.
Of course in the morning they have to deal with the beer stains on the carpet. But, oh well, who cares when they have their mating marks and can think only about each other.
After Ashton finds out that his two pure bloods mated, there’s no end to him mocking Luke like, “Took you how long, Hemmo? Twelve years?” and “You two do understand that now you have to produce at least two pure bloods for the pack, right?”
But, oh well, who cares…
#werewolf!luke#luke blurb#luke hemmings imagine#lukehemmings#luke5sos#lh#5sos#5sos blurb#my writing#my blurb#oh look another 2k words blurb#sorry i'm awful#anon#asks#tgwcw series
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If you do not mind taking a Nameless series (which I whole-heartedly loved, by the way) prompt. What would have happened if the reader were to be captured by Hydra alongside Bucky. Would they remember more things together? Would he still be protective? I'm just generally curious about what would have taken place if that were to happen.
NO ENDGAME SPOILERS
Nameless Blurb!
Pairings: Nurse!Reader X Bucky Barnes, Nurse!Reader X Winter Soldier
Words: 1.7K
Nameless Masterlist
Everything hurt. Bucky’s body screamed at him every time his lungs tried to expand for air. His face was pressed into the dirt of his cell, and he watched the dust that was kicked up after every exhale. It danced and twirled in the sunlight provided by the one barred window and he watched it, losing track of time and waiting. Just waiting.
They had taken his arm last week-- a tactic to try to break him and leak the information that the Howlin Commandos were privy to, but nothing worked. If Bucky Barnes was anything at all he was stubborn.
Or he was until they opened the cell door.
You were there, held up by two HYDRA soldiers before being thrown in without much care for your unconscious body.
No, no, no, no. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. You and Steve and Peggy were supposed to get out and look for him. Yo were supposed to break into the base and rescue him like the damsel he felt like. He tried to crawl over to your body, praying to whatever God that was out there that you were breathing, and they hadn’t just thrown your corpse in with him.
That would suck.
He was about a foot away before the chain shackled around his wrist held him back and he let out a hoarse cry. If he had his arm-- if he was still a whole man he would be able to reach you.
“Y/N!” He shouted, tugging at the chains and crying again when they wouldn’t budge. He collapsed in on himself and screamed until your nose wrinkled and you let out a whine.
“Shhh,” You whispered, eyes still closed and brow furrowed. “My head hurts.”
Bucky’s head shot up and he pulled on the chains again, trying to get to you.
“Y/N,” He said, snot dripping from his nose and tears falling over his cheeks. “Baby, get up. Show me you can get up.”
You groaned and rolled over onto your side to face him, gasping when you opened your eyes to see him.
He was filthy, only a few slivers of skin shone from the blood and dirt caked on his face. He was shirtless, a few poorly sewn stab wounds littered his torso where there would be no vitals hit, and his pants were ripped and torn. He was barefoot too, toenails missing and infected looking.
That wasn’t what made you scream though.
There was a bandage over his shoulder, covering what used to be his arm. There were strips of skin missing, peaking out from the bandage and across his chest. They were browned with dry blood and the skin around them looked hot and irritated.
“James.” You cried, pulling yourself up enough to crawl over to him. “What the hell did they do to you?” Your soft hands cradled his cheeks and he sighed. It was the first gentle touch he’d felt in months-- maybe years.
“They tried to break me, Babygirl.” He whispered, shining eyes looking up at you. You surged forward, capturing his weak lips in your own. His breath tasted like a mixture of sour and blood and you cried into his mouth.
“You’re so strong, James. I’m here now. We're gonna be okay.” You wept, pressing your forehead against his. He let out a cry.
You were never supposed to be here. Not like this.
“Tell us where the Tesseract is.” Growled one of the masked men. Bucky spat at him, blood and phlegm coating the eye sockets of the mask.
“Fuck you.” He repeated for the ninth time. He didn’t know where Steve or Peggy would have put it. They wouldn’t know that, though. He still had leeway-- the information he may or may not know could be the very reason Bucky was still alive today.
“Fine.” Growled the man who picked up a knife from the table and twirled it in his gloved hand. “Bring her in.”
You were brought in, then. A fresh bruise blossoming red on your cheek and a wild look in your eyes. They had treated you better than himself, thank God, but now the man was walking towards you and he wanted to scream.
“Don't touch her! Don't you fucking touch her!” Bucky screamed, pulling at the ropes that bound him to the metal chair under him.
“Then tell us where the Tesseract is, or I’m gonna make her fuckin’ scream my name.” The man said, smirk in his voice, and Bucky’s vision went black around the edges. He looked to you-- stunned and scared but still defiant and shaking your head no at him. Whatever he knew, he couldn’t tell them. But then the knife went into your thigh and you screamed so loud the walls around you vibrated.
Bucky yelled.
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, okay! I know nothing!” He cried and his face crumpled when he pulled the blade from your thigh and watched your pants slowly grow with red.
“I figured.” The man smirked.
Bucky’s brain felt like mush. Like electrocuted mush. Mush that hurt and stung and made him want to curl up into a ball and die.
He was on the thin mattress in your shared cell-- everything seemed very far away though. The dripping from the leaky pipe echoed around the room a mile away and the cell door opened and closed. It could have been seconds or years before he felt a very familiar hand on his face. Why did he know this touch?
He opened his eyes, squinting a the light still streaming through that damn window and looked at the person touching him. She was beautiful, but she looked tired, and his brows crinkled in the middle. Why was someone like you in a place like this?
“Bucky?” She whispered, hands warm and soothing on his aching skin. Everything hurt.
“Who’re you?” He whispered, foggy mind unable to place a name to the face. He could see your heartbreak by the expression on your face.
“Y/N.” She said, without hesitation. “I made you wit four months before I told you that.” She tried to smile but it just looked painful.
He blinked slowly. Once, twice before recognition flooded his eyes.
“Doll. Shit, I’m-- I’m sorry. Today was--”
“Intense. I know. I’m here for you. I’m not goin anywhere.”
“You should though, go somewhere.”
“You and I both know that’s impossible.”
Thirty years had passed. It was a time of bright pants and big hair and frankly, the soldier didn’t care much for the ugly shirt that he had to wear or the bangs that were in his face and eyes and wouldn’t let him get a clear shot.
He just wanted to get home to Y/N. He didn’t remember her, or why he had started calling her that, but she smiled when he did and it was nice to know that he was good to someone.
He fired the gun in his hand and stayed still as people launched into action. Blood was covering the backseat, and a woman in pink was crying and screaming.
He wanted to go home to her.
So he packed up and climbed into the black truck waiting for him and sat silently while the SHEILD agents cuffed him, put that damn muzzle on and drove.
He was home soon enough, the long hallways bathed in ugly green light and he winced as he felt the all too familiar pressure in the front of his skull-- another headache brought on by the fluorescent lights.
The cell door to his room was opened and he was shoved in, stumbling only slightly before looking up and seeing her on the bed. No matter how many times he had to be frozen or put into the chair, he never, ever forgot how good she was.
Y/N.
She looked up from where she was reading a book from her place on the bed and smiled. Her thirty-year-old t-shirt was full of holes and hung off her body due to the weight she had lost, but her eyes which were full of relief at his return was enough to make his head spin.
She jumped off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around her, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in. They were nicer to her than they were to him-- allowing her showers and actual meals rather than IV fluids, and it made him happy to see that she was better off than he was.
She hadn’t spoken to him in decades-- they had tortured her one hour for every word she spoke when they were first captured, and she had eventually been conditioned to stay silent.
He knew her though.
She pulled him into their bed shortly after, stripping her shirt off and allowing him to trace her skin with whatever he wanted. He kissed each puckered scar on her body and was gentle enough that the callouses on his fingers tickled her sides, eliciting sweet sounds of laughter through her moans. Good reward for a good mission.
They were put under once more the next day, only seeing each other when they were needed. Each time, wordlessly exchanging looks and touches to convey that while they didn’t have the best life, they were together.
It was 2014 when Soldat didn’t return home on time. She was waiting for him in her usual spot, patient as ever when she heard the gunshots and the screams. She looked up in fear when the cell door was blown off its hinges and thrown into the wall beside the bed, revealing an angry, and desperate soldier.
He stalked forward and she backed up on the bed to try to avoid his aggression before he caught her ankle and pulled her to the edge of the bed, gathering her in his arms and carrying her out of the room. She hadn't left this room in decades, always chained or sitting and the muscles she once had had long since disappeared. She would certainly need her cane for the rest of her life rather than the short stint Howard Stark had recommended all those aeons ago.
“We’re gonna get you out of here, Y/N. We’re gonna go far away from here for a long time.” His voice was gruff, but there was something there. Something minuscule that reminded of her best guy from the war.
They were gonna be fine.
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