One Shot

The proposition - Luke Hemmings [SMUT]

Requested - yes

Summary~ Luke is always teased for his lack of experience sexually, especially since, as the school star football player, he could be getting some any time he wanted it. The thing is, he only wants you, Miss tech, running the school website, documenting everything for the school news channel along with being the go-to girl for anything tech related. You didn’t even know until one day 3 boys make a proposition you can’t refuse.

a/n: In these terms football is soccer if you get confused

Word Count - 1646

“Bears versus Sealions!” you exclaim as the camera is turned on you. “It’s 2 all with only 5 minutes left to go but I’m sure we all have faith in our sealions to claw back victory”

You have two first years a your camera men for the year though, even collectively, they have no camera abilities.

“Time out!” shouts the captain of the opposing team, making a ‘T’ with his hands.

The crowd groans as the timer is paused and the Bears are brought into a group huddle.

Suddenly you feel an arm around your shoulder and you turn to see Luke Hemmings, star striker, beaming down at you, “It seems we have an exclusive interview during this break, with Mr Hemmings”

“Good day Miss [Y/N], you are doing a mighty fine job as usual,” he says.

“We may as well talk school wide gossip while we’re here,” you begin. “Is it true that you have earned yourself a football scholarship to graduate a year earl?”

“Well aren’t you an A+ journalist, yest it is true, I shall be leaving Valley High, and the Sealions,” he leans on your shoulder making you giggle.

“Won’t you miss your beloved school?” he nods, “What will you miss most?”

“The best tech consultant/journalist on the planet,” he winks before being called straight onto the pitch again.

“Well you heard it here first”

“What was that?” Calum asks Luke as they jog out to their places.

“Nothing,” Luke dismisses.

“Just ask her the fuck out, that way you get laid before you leave for college,” he sighs.

Luke hits Calum’s arm pretty hard before the whistle is blown and they have to run for the ball. Trying to impress you, he manages to score a goal within minutes, effectively winning them the game.

“If that’s what she makes you do then you need to never lose her,” Calum says when he sees Luke checking to make sure you were watching.

“Oh, fuck off,” he says.

In the last 5 minutes of game play Luke almost scores another goal but doesn’t quite. 

Still the game is won by the Sealions and, caught up in the glee of victory, the goalie Ashton screams, “Victory party at my place!”

You weren’t planning on going to the party but when you receive an influx of texts from the football team all the way to the chess squad all begging you to go you decide to throw on your nicest back dress and make an appearance.

“Everyone hide, the press is here,” your closest friend on the football team, Michae, jokes when you walk in.

“Shut up I’m quite clearly off duty,” you gesture down at yourself.

“And quite the fox you are too,” he slushes slightly, obviously already drun slightly

“Have you asked her yet, Mikey?” Calum appears at his friend’s side.

“Asked me what?” you ask.

“We have a proposition for you,” Ashton pops up behind you making you jump.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of this,” your brows knit together.

“Just hear us out,” Calum clearshis throat, “Little Lukey, bless him, he’s never y’know done the deed,” Calum couldn’t have been less subtle as he makes the necessary gesture to help you join the dots. “And we thought, we can’t send our buddy to college a virgin, but that’s a going away present that none of us can give him, and Luke has some standards that are quite tricky to get around”

“He only wants his first fuck to be you,” Michael adds bluntly.

“Me, why me?”

“He’s…” suddenly very articulate drunk Calum begins, “Infatuated with you”

“So what? You want me to take his v-card?” you tilt your head slightly.

“You don’t need to, we just thought we’d run the idea past you,” Ashton says.

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to, but whatever happens, happens, thank you boys,” you say turning to walk deeper into the party. “I will do my best”

With the new information of Luke’s crush on you fresh in your mind you decide to wash it away with a drink, but the same one drink is in your hand hours later and only half drank.

“Flat,” you mutter to yourself when you take a sip so you go to the kitchen o pour yourself a fresh one.

“[Y/N],” the familiar voice chirps when you enter the room..

There’s Luke leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, I havent seen you all night,” you point out.

“I’ve been here for a while,” he adds raising the cocktail of soft drinks and vodka he seems to be nursing.

“I might join you,” you toss your half full cup in the bin and lean next to him.

“Having a fun time?” he asks.

“Nah, I’m not even sure why I’m here,” you shrug. “How about you, this could be your last high school party after all?”

He shakes his head.

“I know what’ll make it better,” you take his hand and pull him out into the lounge before shouting, “Who’s up for a little 7 minute in heaven!”

Naturally a large group of drunken party-goers form a circle with you and Luke leading the game to begin with but as the numbers dwindle Calum and Ashton take over so when the bottle spins and lands on Luke they smirk at each other.

“Luke, you get…” the pretend to think for a second before saying, “[Y/N]”

He glares at them which you  “Don’t notice” and proceed to pull him to the cupboard that had been occupied by 3 or 4 couples before you two.

Luke turns on the light once inside, “You don’t need to do anything with me,” he blurts out quickly.

“Do you want to do anything with me?” you question.

He nods, “Of course I do, I just don’t want you to feel like you need to”

“Then I don’t see a problem,” you smile pulling his lips to yours by the neck.

You tease him, allowing your lips to only brush his briefly before giving in to your urges and letting a rhythm take over you. His tongue wastes no time in brushing against your lips, begging for entrance which you grant. Luke’s hands roam up and down your sides instinctively squeezing your ass until a quiet moan vibrates against his lips, making hims smirk.

7 minutes pass easily like this but no one comes to collect you, so Luke takes the initiative to break the kiss and pull you out of the cupboard into a bedroom that is unoccupied. You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck when he presses a hurried kiss to your lips. He groans and finds a seat on the bed, allowing you to straddle his waist. With the alcohol in your veins it takes no time for your blood to boil with lust, fueling your needs. You grind against him and he groans once more. For someone with little experience you can’t help but notice that he seems to know what he’s doing, moving your dress so it’s around your waist. You take it off quickly leaving you in only your underwear, his eyes become the size of tennis balls raking over your barely clothed body, the bulge in his jeans growing more.

“Lie back on the bed,” you tell him and he obliges. “I know you don’t reallk know what you’re doing, so how would you like me to take control?”

He nods, “I would like that, a-a lot”

You smile at him with a hit of menace but mostly reassurance before removing his jeans at an agonizingly slow pace. Next you unbutton his shirt and leave wet open mouthed kisses all the way from his collar bones down his chest and to the waist band of his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his heartbeat quuicken.

Toying with his boxers you look up at him to see if he’s ready for you to continue and he gives you a nod. Before you take off his boxers you remove your bra, making him whine. You move up his body so your straddling him again and kiss him sweetly. Taking both of his hands in yours you guide them to your breasts and he starts to massage your chest, tweaking his thumbs over the nipples every now and then. You’re so caught up that you don’t even notice his hands ghosting down your sides and gradually pulling off your panties.

“Jesus Christ, [Y/N]” he moans at the sudden lack of clothing between the two of you.

“Tell me what you want Luke, this is all about you,” you whisper in his ear.

“I want you, just you,” he pleads.

With that you hover yourself over his length and get him to grip your hips so he can adjust your pace. You lower yourself into him only to be filled with pleasure both at the feeling of hi inside you but also at he sight of Luke writhing beneath you slightly. Involuntarily he bucks his hips up to meet yours making you whine and begin bouncing up and down.

It doesn’t take long before you get close to you edge so you question, “Are you close yet Luke, I’m so close baby”

“So fucking close,” he replies.

“Come for me, honey,” you smile seductively clenching around him slightly, causing him to reach his climax in seconds.

You let him ride out his high with you hitting yours only shortly after and falling against his chest, rising and falling rapidly as he regains his breath.

“That was amazing, thank you,” he pants.

“No need to thank me,” you reply. “Just promise you’re not going to get up and go brag about it like most guys would”

He shakes his head wrapping a toned arm around you and pulling you close.



The Office: Part 2

Request: “Hi. Your blog is amazing and I love your writing! I loved The Office. Can you please make a part 2? Maybe Dean and the reader becomes a couple. Or something.. I would love that. Thanks!” by den-jenta1

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: This is basically smut, also swearing

Words: 1500-ish

You don’t have to read the first part to understand this one. But I suggest you read it anyway: Click here 

Summary of Part I: : “i’m really really worried you’re gonna fire me can i make up for the massive mistake i made???” au (= the reader is Dean Winchester’s employee and they have sex in his office)

A/N: There’s a little plot twist at the end so they don’t immediately become a couple like you requested ;) but I could maybe write a next part if you’d like.

It’d been weeks since the first time that I’d slept with my boss and since then, we’d made love almost everyday. In all kinds of different places. His office, the kitchen, the storage closet, his car, the bathroom… our desire was voracious.

His hands were magic and his lips were sorcerous, I couldn’t get enough of him. There was something so exciting about sex with Mr. Winchester. There was this sparkling, tingly feeling of forbiddance, the risk of getting caught and getting into trouble. It wasn’t exactly right for a boss to fuck his employee. But we didn’t care. We enjoyed it too much.

Of course, it was a physical thing. We weren’t dating, we were not in love, but we could make each other scream. And we slowly started becoming good friends, having lunch together or coffee in the early mornings. He seemed to be a nice guy, he was kind and funny and I really liked him. And hell, I hoped that I wouldn’t fall for him. It would only cause pain.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” I heard a dark voice call, while I sat at my desk, my fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard. I lifted my head to look up and recognized a beautiful, edgy face.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester? How may I help you?” I smirked, seductively fluttering my eyelashes. He grinned, oh how I loved that sexy, mischievous grin of his, with his perfectly white teeth and his full, perky lips. 

He played with his grey tie, adjusting it, then straightening the fabric of his white shirt. His broad shoulders were covered in an expensive, black blazer. He looked outrageously good in suits. 

“Actually, I want to help you,” he replied, his voice coarse and rugged, “I think you need a break from all this work.”

Then, he bent down to me until his mouth was next to my ear. “I booked a hotel room,” he whispered, his hot breath sent shivers down my spine, “meet me outside the building in half an hour.”

My womanhood immediately reacted to his words in agonizing anticipation. God, just the thought of him could make me sweat. I nodded in response, slightly biting my lip with lust filled eyes.

“I can’t wait for it, boss,” I moaned, so low that only Dean could hear me. He exhaled loudly, he was impatient, too. He adjusted his pants, ran his fingers through his hair, then he turned around and went back to his office.

Thirty minutes later, I stood outside, waiting for Mr. Winchester to pick me up, when a black, shining old-timer pulled over. I saw a handsome man in the driver’s seat, so I opened the door and sat down next to him. “Hey gorgeous,” he greeted, smiling like the cheeky little boy he was.

Driving shotgun in Dean’s car reminded me of college. I felt free, on a joyride with the hottest boy on the campus, young and fearless. He told me stories from his childhood and I laughed at every silly joke he made. I told him embarrassing moments from high school and he giggled loudly.

It didn’t take long to get to the hotel, maybe fifteen minutes, and when we arrived I was kind of sad that the ride was over.

The hotel seemed expensive. Women in designer dresses and men in suits, chandeliers on the ceiling. Dean got the room keys while I waited on one of the brown leather couches, observing my environment.

“Our room is on the eighth floor,” Mr. Winchester stated, raising the keys up. He took my hand to lead me to the elevator.

When we got inside, it was quiet for a couple of seconds, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He crashed his lips onto mine, grabbing my waist, digging his fingertips into my hips in desperate desire. I responded immediately, tangling my hands in his short hair, granting his tongue access. The kiss was intense, passionate and needy. He took me by my butt and lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around him. It was sudden, fiercely.

“Do you actually know how much I want you, Y/N? More than I’ve ever wanted anyone else and I can’t wait to give you what you need, baby,” he murmured, not really letting go of my lips. “I want you to come from my touch, I want to hear the lovely sounds you make,” he started kissing my neck, not quite gentle, but rough and lustful.

When the elevator arrived on the eighth floor, he walked out, still holding me, carrying me to the room.

Once we were there, he threw me onto the bed. We’d never had sex on a bed before and this was kind of more…emotional than doing it on his desk or the kitchen table. And this made it even better.

He took my skirt and panties off in a rush, then he tossed his blazer and suit on the floor. He pulled me to the edge of the bed, then got to his knees, putting my legs over his shoulders. “Dean…”

He started licking my folds, my clit, then sucked it. I let out a shaky moan. He kept going, moving faster, slipping his tongue inside of me, fucking me with his mouth. He then put a finger inside of me, pumping in and out while he kept on swirling his tongue around my clit. He went faster and faster, adding a finger and then another one. 

“Fuck, yeah, Dean!” I screamed, fisting the sheets, thrusting my hips towards him. His hands tightly gripped my legs, he grunted at the sounds I let out. “Baby, you’re so sexy,” he said, “I love making you feel good. Do you like what I’m doing to you?”

“I love it,” I pressed out under my breath. 

“Yes, you do, baby girl, now say my name,” he ordered and I obeyed, groaning his name in overwhelming pleasure. “Don’t stop, please, Dean”

He went even faster, even harder, sucking my clit, eating me out until I was about to explode. Fiery heat built up inside of me like a burning fire. “Come for me, Ms. Y/L/N”

“Oh, shit!”

I came intensely and loudly. Dean moaned at the sight in front of him, my eyes closed and my lips parted, slowly coming back down from my high, muscles relaxing again. But he didn’t really give me much time. He hovered over me, kissing me with all he had, making me taste myself. He teased me by rubbing his length on my wet folds, one of his hands playing with my nipple. “Tell me what you want, Y/N”

“Fuck me”

“Say it again”

“I want you to fuck me, Dean”

“Shit, you’re so hot, Y/N”

Then he thrusted into me, filling me up, stretching me out and pushing in and out of me, going deep. I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Oh god,” the feeling was incredible, waves of white pleasure crashing onto me, like a thunderstorm of erotic passion. He took one of my legs and put it over his shoulder, hitting me from another angle and going even deeper.

I felt him getting closer, his thrusts got uncontrolled, his grunts louder. “I’m…I’m gonna…babe…I…”

And then he released, let himself go and I followed him, losing it, too. He collapsed on top of me, heavily breathing. I ran my fingers over his sweaty back, panting, and savoring the feeling he’d given me.

A few moment later, he stood up and started getting dressed. “Are you hungry? We can get sandwiches on our way back to the office?” he suggested, casually, as if we hadn’t just slept with each other. “Uh, no, not really.”

I got up, too, collecting my clothes and putting them on. I didn’t know if I’d expected him to stay with me a little longer. But I wished we could have stayed in this bed, curled up, bodies pressing against each other. Just cuddling, maybe talking a little. But we didn’t do that. We probably wouldn’t ever do that.

As we were about to leave the room, Dean’s phone rang. He looked nervous when he saw the name on the screen, hesitating on wether or not he should answer the call. 

“Are you not going to pick up your phone?” I asked. He clenched his jaw in response, waiting some more, then he answered the call, pressed the phone onto his ear. “Hello?” he said, “Oh yeah, hey honey, how are you doing?…Yeah, yeah…I’ll be home late tonight…”

I knew that I had no rights to be jealous or to feel used since we had a purely physical relationship, but finding out that he lived with a woman, that he had a girlfriend or even a wife…it hurt. He didn’t tell me about it. I thought he was single. Now, I realized that I was the other woman. I never wanted to be that.

When he hung up, I looked at him reproachfully. “Who was that?” I hissed, crossing my arms.

“Look, Y/N, I should have told you but when you came to my office the other day, I just couldn’t resist. I’d fantasized about you for so long and once we started…I couldn’t stop. I wanted you everyday. Sleeping with you is…addicting. And I wanted to tell you about her but I didn’t really know how. But I’m telling you now. I…I’m married,” he confessed, “but I’m not happy. And with you, I felt happier than I have for months! You give me all the things I need and…”

I couldn’t listen to him any longer. Oh my god. “You should’ve told me, Dean! Fuck, you cheated on your wife! I… I destroyed a marriage!”

Oh. My. God.


Fights were never easy and sometimes, you just needed a little bit of comfort, even if it was something small, like sweet latte art.

6/10 of the 1k follower series
Pairing: Murasakibara x Reader (female)
Rating: K
Word Count: 1078

                 for knb-hq-scenarios who is the cutest thing in the world

Murasakibara never thought much of it but his presence in your life became somewhat of a routine. It wasn’t as if he chatted with you twenty four-seven but you shared a few hi’s here and there and acknowledgements whenever you pass by each other in the streets. He worked as a barista and you were a constant customer who ordered the same latte every time you came around. You were sweet to a certain extent, always polite, and one time, you even helped him out when a customer was being difficult.

Perhaps he was growing fond of you, much too fond for his liking. Perhaps it was merely his imagination.

He hoped it was because he wasn’t planning on falling for someone with a boyfriend anytime soon.

You were attached by the hip with your boyfriend. He was awesome and funny but he wasn’t anything special. Of course, the fact that you’ve been going out for a few months now only encouraged people to think otherwise. You knew that he probably wasn’t the one but he felt safe at that moment. He was a good man and you liked him.

Murasakibara worked at the counter, handling cashier duties but he was more often assigned to coffee. He was the best coffeemaker in the store after all and he was pretty skilled in making latte art as well. His eyes often found you amidst in the crowd. You were wrapped in his arms, laughing to whatever he was saying. During these days, Murasakibara felt a twinge of jealousy in his heart.

However, one day, as he stood there in front of the cashier, he noticed that your eyes were red and puffy. He wanted to ask you why you were crying but he felt bad. After taking your money and giving you your change, he decided that he should be making your coffee and switched with his friend.

Keep reading

Your Own Honeymoon (ReaderxJensen Ackles)

Request: Can you write a story where the reader is Jared’s sister and she meets Jensen when she moves to Vancouver for work. Also the reader helps Jared and Gen plan their wedding while Jensen and the reader get close and eventually fall in love (some fluffy fluff). Maybe during the reception Jensen and the reader sneak away and have mind-blowing sex.

Warnings: fluff, smut, elevator sex (is this a warning?)

Words: 2814

Note: Once again, no Danneel hate here. Just a story. :)

Keep reading

The Gym

You had been touring with One Direction for over a month now because of your new internship with Lou Teasdale. You got along with the boys perfectly but Harry always found a way to annoy you, so you and him weren’t on good terms. Even though you hated him, you had to admit he was sexy. And every time you were with him, there was this tension between the two of you that you couldn’t understand and admit.

After not being able to sleep, you decided to head to the hotel’s gym to get some tension off your muscles and relax. You had been in there for about five minutes in your sports bra and yoga shorts. You thought no one would go in there since it was four in the morning. You started with stretching, and when you were on the floor stretching your legs, you felt like someone was watching you, so you immediately turned towards the door and saw Harry there.

“Need help?” He said while intensely looking at you.

“From you? No thanks.” You scoffed.

“Oh come on Y/N. I didn’t come here to fight, I actually came here to work out seeing as I couldn’t sleep, but since I saw you here I want to help you out seeing as you look tense. I know some great stretches that can help with your muscles.” He said.

You glared at him for a while until you gave in, since you knew he had been working out for a long time now.

“Okay, fine. Show me then.” You said, looking very stressed.

“Okay.” He said while going closer to you. He stood beside you where you were turned sideways to him. “Alright, stretch your hands out in front of you.” He said.

You listened to him and stretched your hands out as far as you could.

“And touch your toes.” He said and you obliged immediately.

After after about a minute, you turned your head to look at him. He was just staring at you but then you looked at something that caught your eye. He was shirtless and just wearing basketball shorts but when you looked down at him, he had this bulge growing in his shorts, so you immediately turned away and got up quickly from the position you were in.

“What else?” You asked normally, trying to ignore the fact that he was getting hard.

You could feel the tension growing between the two of you and then you finally realized it was a sexual tension.
You gulped hoping that he wouldn’t notice, but he did considering he got closer to you.

“Now turn your back to me.” He said with his voice sounding more husky than usual.

You turned around and started getting goosebumps all over your body.

“Now stretch your arms out to the sides.” He said and you did.

“And…” He said and trailed of, then you felt his hands touch you on the shoulders and smoothly make their way out to touch your hands.

It felt wonderful to you, and you were getting turned on just by him touching you.

“And put your hands above your head.” He said and you could feel his hot breath on your back. Since he still had his hand in yours, he lifted up your arms.
He then slowly started making his way towards your shoulders, but he didn’t stop there, he moved his hands all the way to your hips.

“You know…” He said, breathing heavily. “I can show you a much better exercise than any of this.” And when he said that, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you so he could have his crotch on your butt. And you could feel his erection. It felt good and you were starting to breathe heavily.

“Harry…” You moaned quietly.

“Mmmm baby, I like it when you say my name.” He said.

Just then he moved one of his hands to your stomach to keep you in place and close to him. Then with the other hand, he started exploring your body.

He slowly went up from your stomach and grabbed on of your boobs, and gave it a gentle squeeze, and you moaned in satisfaction. Then he stopped and slowly made his way down to the side of your thigh. He was rubbing little circles and then he made his way to the inside of your thigh. It felt good and you were bitting your lip like crazy. Just then, you felt his hand moving to your crotch area until he reached it and cupped it. You moaned in response.

“Feel good?” He asked with his voice low and hoarse.

He then started rubbing circles with his middle and ring finger and it felt heavenly. This guy could give you an orgasm just by touching you.

You slowly started moving your hips to the rhythm of his fingers making your butt rub against his crotch. He groaned in satisfaction. You started arching your back because it felt so good, and you pressed your butt harder into his crotch.

“Fuck.” He said.

He then stopped the assault and placed his hand at the hem of your shorts, then started going inside your shorts.

“Mmm, no panties huh?” He asked.

He then made his way to your clit and started rubbing circles, it felt even better then before.

“Mmm babe, your so wet.” He said, breathing heavily.

Then, his hand that he still had in your stomach, started going slowly up and under your sports bra to cup your breast. He slowly started pulling on your nipple and felt it harden more.

But before he could insert a finger into you, you started hearing voices down the hall. He immediately got his hands out and put them on your hips. He then kissed your shoulder, letting his lips linger there for a few second until he brought his lips to your ear.

“This is not over, we’ll continue this next time.” He said and left you there all flustered until the people came inside the room.

While The Moon Shines... - One Shot

TITLE OF STORY:While The Moon Shines…
AUTHOR: hiddlesofasgard
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: daddy!Tom/ husband!Tom
FIC SUMMARY: Tom and OC finally get some alone time when…
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: I really would love to know how you guys found it and it would be nice to find response!
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Feedback and suggestion always welcome!

The last of the dinner plate was placed safely where it belonged , giving me the liberty to softly sigh to myself. I groaned as I felt the stiff muscles of my back ease.  The silent, low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound that filled the kitchen not long before I heard heavy footsteps descending down the flight of stairs. I was relieved to have know who they belonged to.

Soon, Tom walked into the kitchen and walked over to where I was standing and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and I felt his stubble rub against my cheek as he placed a soothing kiss on the corner of my lips. In the dimly lit kitchen, we stood there enjoying the solitude and each other’s presence.

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A Million Little Pieces (one shot)

This one is for kmp78 - thank you for your never ending kind words of support (and the proof read of a partially written idea!) 😘

I sit very still at the table, my only movement to twist the wedding band round and around my finger nervously. I had contemplated taking it off, putting it in my purse, and then had chastised myself for the thought. My wedding ring, much like my husband, was a part of my life now, fused into position from years of being against my skin. I couldn’t hide my ring – or my marriage. And I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t.

I push away the cup of coffee in front of me, the dark liquid now cold in its chipped, white café mug, and glance up at the clock on the wall. He was late. It was only fifteen minutes, but he was still late. The realisation that he couldn’t even be on time, even after all the phone calls, text messages, emails, begging me to agree to see him, was just further proof that I had done the right thing, all those years ago. I had made the right decision. So why did I have the familiar sinking sensation of disappointment, pulling on the bottom of my stomach?

The sound of the little bell above the door tinkled out from across the café, and I look up in time to see him walk through the door. He looks… the same. Time has literally changed not a single thing. His hair, his stubble, his flawless complexion. The dark, expensive Ray Bans hiding his eyes. The ridiculous trousers with the crotch down by his knees, big, dirty brown boots only half laced up. And he’s wearing the hoodie, that damn over sized Ralph Lauren Indian hoodie. I could still remember the feel of it on my skin, the only thing covering my nakedness as I watched him lounge on a hotel bed, beckoning me back towards him with one finger.

I drag my eyes away from his clothes in time to see him take off his sunglasses, his eyes scouring faces at the surrounding tables until they come to settle on me. There is a moment, a heartbeat of time, where our eyes meet and I am lost. The noise of conversation, the sound of the coffee machine whirring and buzzing behind the counter, the pain of rejection that I have been nursing for all this time; gone. In that moment, it is just us.

He smiles then, a slow smile of recognition as he tilts his head slightly to appraise me from the other side of the room. I blush - look down at my hands on the table to hide the colour in my cheeks - and stare straight at my wedding ring. My heart is thudding in my chest, and I quickly place my hands on my lap under the table, out of sight. I don’t know why I do it.

And then he is in front of me, pulling out the chair on the opposite side of the table, the scent of his aftershave washing over me and filling my nostrils, clouding my senses mercilessly. I watch him sit, leaning back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the chair beside him. He waits until I make eye contact with him again and then doesn’t let me look away, holding my gaze firmly with his own. I had forgotten the colour of his eyes, even though I see them in my dreams more often than I care to admit. Hazel brown, a hint of green in certain lights. I have forgotten how to speak.


His voice is deeper than I remember. I wonder if he is still smoking, and try to ignore the sudden craving in the back of my throat for a cigarette. I haven’t smoked in years.

“I can’t believe you came.” He adds when I don’t say anything.

“I said that I would.” I reply, sending up a silent thank you that my voice remains calm and smooth, even though I am trembling from head to toe.

I shift in my seat slightly, glance around the shop to find someone who could take our order. I need a reason to look away from him, smiling at a waitress as I catch her eye from where she stands a few tables away.

“Still so beautiful.” He says quietly from across the table.

I startle and look back to him with a frown, unsure whether I had heard him correctly. He is still watching me, a smile playing on his lips as he watches my reaction. The familiarity of the charge that jumps between us is almost unbearable.

“What can I get you?”

The arrival of the waitress breaks the moment, and as soon as he looks away from me I feel like I can breathe again. I pull air into my lungs while he places our order, fortifying myself, ignoring the fact that not only does he order for me, but he remembers the way I take my coffee. I already know I’m not going to drink it.

I am staring at the table, the wood scuffed and tarnished from millions of cups and plates being placed in front of customers. I try to find the right words to articulate what I want to say.

“Why am I here?” I don’t know if I am asking him, or myself.

“I wanted to see you.” A beat of silence, followed by “Would you look at me?”

I force my eyes back to his, fighting to keep my expression blank while my stomach churns incessantly. He searches my face, a little breath of air puffing out from between his lips.

“How long has it been?” he asks.

Three years, five months and about a week, I scream in my head. Every day as excruciating as the last.

“A long time.” I answer carefully. He nods.

“You cut your hair.”

I reach up with my right hand, tucking my hair behind my ear self consciously. I used to wear it long, blonde curls reaching halfway down my back. He liked my hair long; liked to run his fingers through it and wrap it round one hand, pulling on it while he kissed my neck. When he left, I had it cut into a bob just below my chin. An act of rebellion.

“It suits you. You look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

I move my hand back to my lap, clutch it with the other one tightly and hope that he doesn’t notice me shaking. He regards me for a moment, his tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip, the way he always used to when he was concentrating. A nervous tic usually reserved for when he was carefully choosing his words.

“How are you?”

Such a simple question, and yet I hesitate over my answer, not sure what to say. There is so much I could tell him. So much time has passed since we saw each other, so many things have happened, but I realise that half of it I can’t say out loud; and half of it I don’t want to. “I’m good. Not much to report, really.”

He frowns, the small movement changing his whole face as he shakes his head at me. “Come on, you. I want know how you’ve been.”

“It’s a little late for that,” I bite out, regretting the words the instant they leave my mouth. I don’t want to be the bitter ex-girlfriend, the one that they all talk about on the tour bus, laughing as they roll their eyes. I compose myself, clear my throat. “Sorry. What about you, are you keeping well?”

We are interrupted as the waitress returns to our table, placing the coffee mugs in front of us and collecting my untouched cup of cold coffee. She asks if she can get anything else for us; he politely tells her that we are fine. As she leaves he picks up his spoon, stirring one packet of sugar into his coffee as he considers his own answer.

“I’m actually doing really well.”

I don’t know why this answer hits me like a blow to the stomach. He puts his spoon down and looks back up at me, sitting back in his seat again, the fingers of one hand rolling the empty sugar packet into a ball of paper.

“I spent some time in rehab, last year.”

My mouth drops open a little. “Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised!” he says, chuckling lightly as he throws the empty packet at my head, laughing harder as it bounces off of the end of my nose. I smile in spite of myself, and he stops laughing, watching my face. “God, I missed that.”

I feel my smile evaporate as I look down at my own drink, playing with the handle of the mug. A wall of tension settles back between us. “So… what brought about rehab?” I ask, moving past his comment. He looks a little wounded.

“Family intervention,” he shrugs. “I got into some trouble and… yeah. It was time, y’know? Time to face my demons.”

“Did it help?”

“I’ve been clean for a year. A year today, in fact.”

I feel a flush of pride sweep through me, followed by a sense of sadness that I hadn’t been enough to make him want to take that step.

“Wow. Congratulations - I’m really pleased for you.” I say, genuinely. And I am. I know it’s the best thing that he could have done, because I had tried for so long to convince him to go.

“I should have done it years ago.” He says, a hint of regret in his voice.

I know what he is saying. He should have gone when I had asked him to. When I had told him that I couldn’t stay in a strained relationship with an addict who spent most of his time on a different continent. When I had begged him to choose me, over his lifestyle. I nod my head, acknowledging the unspoken words between us.

“At least you made that step. Your family must be really pleased.”

He smiles a little, taking a sip of his coffee. “It took a long time for them to believe that I was serious, to trust that I could stay clean this time.”

“Well I’d say that a year was a pretty good starting block.” I pointed out. “And you know they will support you, no matter what.”

A sharp pang of homesickness pierced my chest as I thought about them. I missed his family. When he had walked out of my life, he had taken them with him, all connections severed instantly.

“I dunno about that – I burnt a lot of bridges before rehab. It’s been a tough year, trying to fix it all.”

I don’t know what to say. I want to feel sympathy for him, but the part of me still holding on to the anger and the betrayal cannot bring myself to feel sorry for him.

“Isn’t that part of the program? To make amends?” I ask.

He nods, looking at me closely. “That’s why I’m here.”

I smirk. “I thought you were in town for a show?”

He smiles, flicking his hand in the air as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It’s an acoustic show, I’m not playing. I just flew over with them so I could see you.”

I blink, blindsided by his comment, and he uses my stunned silence to continue.

“Out of everyone that I hurt along the way, you are the one who deserves the biggest apology. I was such a shit to you. The way I treated you was… unforgiveable.”

I try to swallow the lump that has appeared in my throat as I look at him, that earnest expression on his face drawing me back in the way it always did when he was saying sorry. I don’t want to hear this. It’s too late.

“It doesn’t matter now…” I say, shaking my head as I look away from him.

“Of course it matters,” he interrupts, ducking his head to catch my gaze again. “And you need to hear it. I am so sorry. The whole time I was in that god damn clinic I was planning this – I couldn’t wait to get on a plane and come and find you.”

I feel one eyebrow lift itself involuntarily at this statement. “And yet you did manage to wait. A whole year, in fact.” I point out, a sting in the words. If only he hadn’t waited.

I can see his pulse jumping in his neck, a little thud of movement in that sweet spot just under his jaw. A memory of curling up against him in bed, my head on his shoulder, my nose pressed up against the warm skin there. I suck in a breath as I try to push the image from my mind.

“My family weren’t the only ones who found it hard to trust me, when I came home. I found it hard to trust me, too. I didn’t want to come back here and throw some easy words around only to fall down and end up right back where I started. I knew that I meant it, I just… I wanted to make sure I could see it through, y’know? And when it got to a whole year sober… I wanted to celebrate that with you.”

I watch him for a moment and realise that he is holding his breath as he waits for me to respond. I look away again, unable to maintain the eye contact with him.

“Well… I appreciate your apology.” I say. But the damage is done, I think, biting my lip to stop the words forcing their way out.

The silence descends again, and I try to remember a time when conversation between us had been as easy as breathing. He lifts one hand, pointing to my drink in front of me. “Your coffee is going cold,” he smiles.

I reach out instinctively to pick up the cup, even though I have no intention of drinking it, and too late I realise that it is my left hand that has ventured out from under the table. In a flash his strong hand has wrapped around mine, pulling my arm towards him across the table as he stares down at the engagement and wedding rings. I try to pull my hand away from him but he tightens his grip, and my heart leaps into my throat at the feel of his skin on mine again.

“Not much to report huh?” he says, dragging his eyes back to my face. They are on fire, burning into mine with all the questions that I had wanted to avoid, and as he releases my hand I quickly place it back on my lap. Out of sight. “You’re married?!”

I feel ashamed, like I have been caught cheating; ironic, that I would be the one at this table feeling as though I had been dishonest or unfaithful. I manage to nod, once. His eyes close briefly against the sight of my confirmation. “Who is he?” he says quietly.

I lower my eyes back to the table, a slight shake of my head. I didn’t want to have this conversation with him.

“Who is he!” he snaps, the palm of his hand banging on the table between us.

I jump, startled. People around us look over at our table, look at him. To them he appears calm, as though that outburst hadn’t happened, but I know him. I see the slight flare of his nostrils, and the hand that had slapped onto the table now curled in a tight fist, the skin on his knuckles stretched taut and white.

“You don’t know him.” I answer.

“How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“If I was sat in front of you wearing a god damn wedding ring, wouldn’t you want to know?” he demanded.


“How long have you been married.” He repeated, undeterred.

I sigh, a small, defeated breath of air escaping me. “Almost a year.”

I wait for this to sink in, one heartbeat, two heartbeats, and watch as the anger on his face is replaced with a crestfallen expression that almost hurts to look at.

“So… when I came out of rehab…?”

“I wasn’t married then, no.”

He slowly slumps back in his chair, subconsciously putting that extra distance back between us as he rubs a hand over his face. “I left it too long.”

I can’t bear to look at him. He looks as though he is in pain, and for the first time in our twisted history I have to acknowledge that I am the one that has caused it. I suddenly ache to hold him, wrap my arms around him and soothe that pain away, like I always used to. My fingers twitch with the need to touch him. I sit on my hands.

“I still would have gotten married. Even if you had made this apology the same day you left rehab.” I say, willing myself to believe that this is the truth.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip again, his eyes locked on to mine. “Would you?”

And I know in that very second that the answer is no. I love my husband. He is a good man. He has never lied to me, hurt me, or walked away from me without so much as a backwards glance. But I look at this man across the table, this man who has done all of those things and more, and I know with certainty that if he had walked back in to my life a year ago things would be very different now. The force with which this realisation hits me is staggering, and I know I need to end this conversation quickly.

“I guess we’ll never know.” I say, my voice shaking, betraying the lie.

I lean over and pick up my hand bag from the chair beside me, standing up as I hook it over my shoulder. My legs wobble, as though they are not strong enough to carry me away from him.

“Don’t go.” He says simply, standing up from his own chair.

“I have to.” I say. Because I’m afraid if I don’t leave now I might never be able to, I think.

“Can I see you again?”

I shake my head, unable to deny him out loud. I move away from my seat, wondering how many steps it is from here to the door. “I really am glad that you are doing so well. I’m proud of you.” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear me choke back the sob trying to strangle the words in my throat.

He steps towards me then and I automatically take a step back. I cannot let him touch me, or this will all unravel. But he keeps coming, moving towards me faster than I can back away, and then those arms are wrapping around me, pulling me against his chest in a crushing embrace. My senses are overloaded – his warmth, his smell, the sound of his heart beating in his chest as one large hand palms the side of my head and pulls me against him. It is like two jigsaw pieces, the edges jagged and torn from years of trying to fit where they don’t belong, finally reunited. It is like coming home.

I squeeze my eyes closed as my arms drift to their rightful place, one around his waist, one across his back, my hand resting on the back of his neck. As my fingers touch the skin there I feel his arms tighten around me, his face dropping to the top of my head as he buries his nose in my hair and breathes in.

“This can’t be it.” He says against me. “I can’t lose you again.”

I pull back slightly, letting my arms drop down until I could put my hands on his arms, using the leverage to push away from him. He loosens his grip a little, but doesn’t let go. He is too close. I can feel his breath on my face as he looks at me, waiting for me to relent, to give in to him like I always would when he looked at me like that. My fingers tighten on the coarse, woollen fabric of his jumper, my favourite jumper, as I stare intently at the hollow in his throat just so that I don’t have to look him in the eye.

“I’m not yours to lose, anymore.”

My voice is barely a whisper, but I know that he heard me. I feel the muscles in his arms stiffen, the air grow thicker with the painful tension. I am saying goodbye, without saying the words. His arms drop away from me, and I am bereft as I take a step backwards, breaking our contact. Every fibre of my being is already crying out from the loss of him, again.

I force myself to look at him, knowing that this will be the last time I see his face and wanting to memorise every last detail, commit it to a locked box in my memory, so that when I am alone I can take it out and look over it fondly. He smiles at me, although his eyes are sad. I smile back, even as my own vision swims in front of me with the tears that are threatening to spill over.

I take another step back, and then turn away from him, wrapping my arms around my middle as I walk towards the door of the café. He doesn’t call after me, doesn’t run to catch up with me. He doesn’t beg me to change my mind or throw empty promises of love at me. As I step through the door and out on to the street, I realise that he has let me walk away, and everything inside me that makes me who I am breaks into a million little pieces.

I wonder how long it will take to put myself back together, this time.

Find a Way

Author: rillyroo
Word Count: 500
Main Characters: Draco Malfoy

Warnings: Fighting 

Plot/Request: You’re being held in a headlock by Draco and you fight your way out of it by fist fighting and you win (Referring to the scene in OOTP where Harry’s found in Umbridge’s fire)


a collar full of chemistry

Summary: None of her students have seemed to catch on, considering Lauren only visits her to walk together to their shared lunch duty station, or after school has been dismissed for the day. Camila keeps their interactions short; whether it be from budding anxiety of Lauren’s proximity, or the fear of being caught in a lie from the pink to her cheeks caused by a smile cast from Lauren’s mouth her way, Camila hasn’t quite calculated.

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Shower scene




“What..” The boy drones from the other side of the bathroom door

“Assssh. Come here.”

He opened the door and popped his mop of curly hair through, “What?” he asked again smirking at your nakedness.
“Did you want some company?” He winked and stepped into the room, he was wearing only a small pair of boxer shorts, his tanned, toned body on full display for you.

“Keep it in your pants, Irwin” you shot and pointed to the spider making its way perilously close to the shower you were currently occupying.

“You called me out of bed for a spider?” he chastised when he realised what your shaking hand was pointing towards.

He chucked to him self as he went and picked up the offending beastie, and releasing it out of the window.

“You can leave now”

“No gratitude for your knight in shining armour” he teased walking back to stand in front of you admiring your naked, glistening body.

“Oh, my hero! What on gods good earth would I do without you!” You teased and pointed him out of the bathroom

“That offer of company is still on the table” he remarked leaving with a wink.

Co-Op Mode

As the final Pokemon fell to Logan and Cherise’s attacks, Logan just barely managed to contain whooping. Instead he and Cherise recalled their Pokemon, being down to only Logan’s Lucario and Cherise’s Weezing as well as Midna. She’d had a much better grasp of the battle and Logan had taken a few bad moves, but she’d covered his mistakes and they’d come out on top. They turned and left the arena as the announcer brought the battle to a close and headed to the exit of the stadium.

“That was awesome!” Logan said as soon as they were away from the crowds. “We kicked ass!” He was grinning from ear to ear, and glanced at Cherise to see how she was reacting.

“We need a Pokemon Center..” The red head didn’t look as excited as her cousin, rubbing at her temples and mentally going over their last battle, it wasn’t often that her initial strategies failed on her. Though they had come out on top, the setback at the start of the battle cost Logan two of his Pokemon, as well as Roserade being knocked out.

Cherise’s reaction kind of killed a lot of Logan’s enthusiasm. “Y-Yeah…” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I’m… Sorry about the start, I know I screwed up. I haven’t battled for awhile, I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

After they’d gotten past the mistake at the start, they’d done really well. Considering they’d even been able to make a comeback after a mistake was pretty good, in his mind. Not her’s though, apparently. “Let’s get our team healed up.”

Cherise only hummed in response, turning to lead the way to the Center, “It wasn’t your screw up though, it was mine. I should have recalled Sylvari sooner…” It was uncomfortably quiet for the few minutes it took them to walk there, after handing out the Pokemon to the nurse, she let out a sigh before turning to Logan, “Sorry.. Didn’t mean to rain on your parade, I was just thinking how I could’ve done better than that.”

Logan stayed silent all the way up until he handed his Pokemon to the nurse as well. He blinked in surprise when Cherise finally spoke up again. “Better? Cherise you… “ He stammered as he tried to think of what to say. “You were amazing. I’ve taken on three Leagues, had a lot of close matches, even lost a few Gym battles. You could sweep the floor with any of them!”

He looked right at her and smiled. “Cherise, you are amazing at this. Way better than me. Trust me, I know I made mistakes. You fixed them and turned things around. I just… “ He sighed and decided he was out of words.

She had just opened her mouth to protest, quickly silenced as he continued, Cherise crossed her arms, fingers digging into her sleeve as she listened to him, “You.. really think so?” She chewed on her lip, slightly uncomfortable at first but sighed as a small smile replaced her worry, “Thanks.. that means a lot Logan. I just, still think I could’ve done better, you know?”

She shrugged, “Don’t think so.. I don’t know. You shouldn’t put yourself down though, finishing three leagues isn’t an easy feat, Logan. Well, ugh, I don’t know. Don’t want to rain on the parade, so just.. thanks for asking me to battle with you, I guess. I just don’t want to disappoint.”

“Yeah, I really do think so. And I’m not putting myself down, I know I’m not horrible or anything, that’s part of why I think you’re so good!” Logan stepped forward and pulled Cherise into a hug. “You’re not disappointing… I’m just happy I have a chance to battle with you… To even have a cousin to battle with like this…” He sniffled and fought back the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. “You’re family I never thought existed, and now we’re staying together in an apartment and battling in a tournament. I’m so happy… “

He stepped back and took a breath. “We’ll both work on doing better for tomorrow. Semi-finals and finals tomorrow, after all. We’ve gotta do better to keep up, right?”

She’s waiting for me
  • Fandom: X-men
  • Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader
  • Genres: Nightmares, mild angst, fluff, smut, fluff
  • Request: remyetiennelehowabeautno -The 2nd was a Charles Xavier Smut. He promised never to read your mind. But during a dream one night you call out for him. He thinks it’s for danger. but realized it wasn’t. Not much later he ends up in the wheelchair and doesn’t say anything thinking you wouldn’t still have the feelings? But you have another dream and decide to tell him your feelings and have smutty time? It’s a bit weird I know. Please and thank you. hun.
  • Word count: 1221

My rules & FAQ - Link

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Alley Surprise

“All I’m saying is, it puts all sorts of pressure on not only the Pokemon, but the trainers themselves! Haven’t you seen how some parents pressure their kids into being the very best at Pokemon? And by very best, I mean specifically battling, that’s a lot of pressure to put on a child when there’s almost literally thousands trying to do the same thing.” Faye rambled on as she and Jen made their way through the streets of Mauville, looking for a quieter place to have lunch. The city was bustling with news on the Pokemon World Tournament, much to Faye’s irritation.

“I get it!” Jen said, raising her hands a little. “Honest, I do, I see where you’re coming from! I probably wouldn’t be here either except for watching out for Logan…”

Okay if she had to be honest, hearing about this was starting to get aggravating. It had been almost literally all Faye had been talking about since yesterday. Jen had to practically plead her to come down at all. Now that she was, she wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea.

“I just don’t trust her… Something is going on here. They got way too close way too fast, I just…” she shuddered a bit. “I don’t like it, something’s up. And I’m gonna find out… what…?”

As they walked past an alley, something caught Jen’s eye. Something in there. No, someone in there. “Holy crap, Faye, he’s bleeding!” Sunlight glinted off the blood covering the unconscious man’s face, and it caused a pit to form in her stomach as she grabbed at Faye’s shoulder.

“Sorry, it’s just that- I know, sorry, ugh, just yeah.” the brunette shook her head, and sighed to herself, casting a side glance at her friend. “Have you tried to confront her about all this anyways? Then again.. if they’re as manipulative as you say they are.. Hmm.. Maybe confront her in front of your cousin, see how she reacts to-”

Faye had kept walking on ahead, only turning when she heard her name called, a sense of panic when she saw the man lying on the street, unmoving. She stepped forward first, dragging Jen with her and stepped over the man, crouching down near him. First instinct to check for a pulse and his breathing.

Getting dragged forward snapped Jen out of her shock and she quickly followed Faye into the alley. She stood nearby, hands wringing her bag strap as she watched Faye check the man out. He seemed like he was okay, aside from the injuries on his face anyway. As Faye’s fingers looked for a pulse, the man shifted a little, responding to the touch. Jen jumped a little but relaxed again when he made no further moves.

“H-He’s not dead, right?” Jen asked, looking at his face. “He… Hm. He looks a little familiar…”

Then something suddenly clicked and a lightbulb went on in Jen’s head. “Oh my gosh! I know him! Or, Logan knows him! He’s an old friend of his, he’s in the tournament! Faye we have to help him!”

“Okay, okay, he should be okay.. Just roughed up mostly.. We need to call someone! Um, hospital is a few blocks from here.. Not sure if to..” her voice trailed off, as she dug for her Holocaster in her bag, quickly dialing up an emergency number. Even though it was not far, neither of them could do much on their own.

“Arceus I hope they get here quick…” Jen ran a hand through her hair, distressed. “There’s no way we can carry him… Oh jeeze, Faye, what happened to him? Why did…”

She huffed, realizing she was starting to freak out. Instead she started trying to control her suddenly rapid breathing in an attempt to calm down.

Faye relayed their location to the operator quickly, eyes glancing up at Jen with a frown as she noticed her expression. As soon as she got off the phone, Faye stood up, gripping Jen’s hand and forcing her to look at her, “They’ll be here soon, it’s not that far off, remember? Ok? I’m sure he’ll be fine, good?”

Jen nodded and took a few more breaths. “Yeah… Yeah okay. Thanks…”

This was not going at all how she’d planned.

Green-Eyed Monster (A Javi Martínez One-Shot)

    “You’re not jealous. You’re envious.”
     "And there’s a difference?“ 
     ”Envy happens when we want something the other person has. Jealousy is when we possess something - and we feel threatened that someone might steal it from us.“

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Adiós Chloe... / Pricefield

-Te extrañé. Tanto…- Susurró la Peliazul contra en cabello de su amiga, apretándole con fuerza contra ella. 

-Dios… Chloe…-Dijo Rachell, Al borde de las lagrimas. 

-…- Max, quién observaba la escena en silencio, se sentía bastante mareada, ¿Era cierto lo que se decía? ¿Rachell poseía sus poderes? ¿Estaba viva? ¿Todo este tiempo lo estuvo? 

-No sé como agradecértelo, Max.-Le sonrió su amiga, a la anterior dicha. ¿Preferiría no haberlo echo? Claro que no. Sabía que ellas se traían algo entre manos. ¿Por qué les dejó, si ella sabía que al volver, Rachell volvería a estar junto a Chloe? ¡Ella debería estar abrazándose con Chloe! 

-Simple… No lo hagas.- Le sonrió. 

-Ven acá.- Ambas se unieron en un abrazo, El cual duró unos segundos. Sus ojos conectaron al instante, Max se sentía capaz de despedirse de su amiga de una manera que luego podría cambiar. 

‘’Vamos, Hagamos esta mierda. Será la ultima vez que lo haga.’’ 

Se acercó fugazmente a su amiga de infancia, mientras unía sus labios con los de ella. Algo a lo que pensó que jamás tendría valor de hacer. pero lo estaba haciendo. 

Se separó con la misma velocidad cual se acercó a ella, mientras levantaba su mano, mientras veía la cara de confusión de Chloe, y la cara de ¿enojo? por parte de Rachell. 

Todo comenzó a retroceder. Todo. Su vista se nubló, y sintió libremente como la sangre bajaba por su nariz. Intentó parar, pero todo se había ido a la mierda. 

-Hola. -Le saludó una chica de largo cabello café, y ojos celeste claro. 

-… Hola.- Saludó devuelta. 

-Soy Chloe. ¿Como te llamas? 

-Max… Maxine. 


#PorUnMundoConShotsPriceFieldENESPAÑOL SI.