1 - NOT THAT HARD (but very hard instead)
Taz Skylar x fem!reader
Come find the other parts on my masterlist!
warnings: rpf (don‘t like, don‘t read), strong language, heavy suggestiveness, a bit angst if you squint, besides of that more likely fluff, no mentions of y/n, i’m trying to keep the reader‘s appearance as vague as possible, the only thing that is implied is that Taz is taller than us - if you notice something that i haven‘t mentioned yet, let me know!
wordcount: 1.9k
A/N: this is the first thing I‘ve written in literal years. English isn’t my first language (but I‘ve proofread this very thoroughly). Tell me what you think - and come back if you liked it!
When Taz asked if you were free tonight to come over and eat dinner with him, you had to fight hard to keep your excitement at bay.
You’d known each other for quite a while now, having mutual friends which had led to casual hangouts with a group of pals always around.
It had been only recently that you’d started spending time with each other alone, just after he’d run into you one time, on your own, enjoying a cool drink and the setting sun.
He had spontaneously invited you over for dinner, cooked just for the two of you, served you another two drinks and then called you a cab to ensure you’d get home safely.
After that, he reached out to you more often, asking if you wanted to tag along when there was a hangout going on, but also inviting you over when he was on his own, a bit tired after a long day spent in the ocean, or after filming stuff for his social media, when everything got quiet and he felt like he was in need of some calm company.
At first you thought there wasn’t much behind it (and suffocated every doubt in that immediately), but after you caught him watching you with an almost intimidating intensity while you were doing something absolutely random, you couldn’t bring yourself to not wonder about the possibility of this leading somewhere.
So the next time he’d invited you over, you’d all but bluntly asked him about his intentions.
“Well, I enjoy your company,” he’d told you almost casually whilst digging for ice in the freezer to put in your drink.
“Obviously,” you’d said, catching his gaze when he’d set your glass down in front of you, the material already fogged up with condensed water.
He’d smirked, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I’m really trying to be smooth and all that,” he’d then said, “and you’re being a bit bold.”
“That startled you?”
“No.” He’d chuckled, his gaze roaming for a moment before his eyes had locked in with yours again. “I like that about you.”
That’d been your turn to blush. You’d felt the hotness crawl up your cheeks, suddenly incapable of holding his gaze any longer, taking a sip of your drink to give yourself the opportunity of regaining some of your composure.
“What?” Taz had laughed, “now you’re getting all shy? Not used to someone else being upfront?”
You’d looked up at him again, pursing your lips, amusement written all over your features, your heart pounding in your throat.
And when his eyes had flicked to your lips, just for a brief second, and he’d leaned over the counter between you, you’d met him halfway, had felt his breath fanning over your face, then finally your lips touching oh so softly, and that had been it.
You wouldn’t necessarily say that you were in love. Or that he was, either.
Although you hoped he was, a little bit. You had your suspicions he was getting there. Which didn’t bother you at all.
So, when he opened the door to his apartment this evening to let you in, thankfully wearing a shirt (this time), kissing your cheek as a greeting, asking about your day whilst hollering back into the kitchen to continue prepping the meal, you had a pretty hard time forcing these butterflies back into the pit of your stomach.
Yeah, not in love. As if.
You sat down on the balcony and ate together, and when you made the mistake to look at him not giving a shit about the mess that he made with his food, eating with focus, enjoying every bite, you couldn’t help these goddamn butterflies from coiling up and shooting down, straight into your core.
You were fucked.
Well, not literally - at least not yet.
But somewhere between that soft first kiss and this exact moment right now, when his eyes flicked up and he met your gaze and you could watch his amusement grow just by recognizing the look on your face, knowing exactly what was going on in your head right now, you must’ve lost your goddamn mind. Or your sanity.
Your decency, that much was certain.
You could watch him growing smug in slow motion.
“Oh, fuck you,” you deadpanned, wiping your mouth.
All he did was raise his eyebrows, silently asking ‘fuck me, or fuck you instead?’. You put your napkin down, grabbing your glass of cool water instead.
“Cheeky,” you murmured, your eyes set firmly onto the horizon.
His mouth was still half full, when he responded, “you like that about me.”
“I do,” you conceded, a smile you couldn’t suppress spreading on your face.
“But,” you then said, suddenly flooded by a strange courage, forcing yourself to a more serious look on your face, accentuating your words by setting down your glass a bit too harshly, “I’m a bit concerned about where this is headed.”
Taz took his time chewing up, wiping his fingers and mouth, taking a sip of his water first, before he said, brows slightly furrowed, “to the bedroom, I guess.”
You sighed. “Don’t act oblivious, please.”
“I’m not,” he chuckled, smirking again, “I’m just a bit… evasive.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah? Why that?”
Taz hummed, clearly attempting to gain some time, thinking about his response. You watched him patiently as he reached for his water again, as he licked his lips.
“I guess,” he then said, slowly, almost cautiously, “this is headed wherever we want it to.”
Your heart was in your throat now, pounding there so urgently that you had a hard time thinking clearly. You waited, longed for him to say more, to somehow clarify what he wanted this thing between you to be, but he just looked at you, smiling softly, then looked away out over the ocean in front of his balcony.
You couldn’t help but wonder about how quickly this evening turned from having a good time with someone you liked into an existential crisis.
The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set, neither of you making an attempt at revealing your thoughts and feelings yet. A part of you longed for clearness, for him committing himself, but you had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t do you the favor.
Maybe for the same reason you yourself were hesitating. Being with him as in spending time with him, even getting intimate with him, felt easy, almost like second nature.
A touch here, a kiss there, wandering lips, roaming hands. You’d indulged in this, particularly noncommittally, having a good time without allowing your thoughts to wander too far.
But as the days and eventually weeks had gone by and your excitement over meeting him again had grown so big, so inevitably, you simply couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about this too much anymore.
Finally, after you felt you’ve had enough of that brewing, you turned to him again. He mirrored you almost instantly, turning his entire body to face you, as if he’d been waiting for you to just take the first step.
“I -,” you started, already losing your courage over that one syllable.
“You -?”, Taz asked, not in a teasing way, just… awaiting.
You felt yourself growing frustrated, over his patience and calmness, but mostly about your sudden shyness.
“Why do I have to declare myself first?”, you asked, growing slightly upset.
You were met with a laugh breaking free from his throat, instantly making your face burn hot.
“Babe”, Taz said softly, reaching over the table between you for your hand. “I’d like you to declare yourself first, because I -,” with his free hand he pointed to his chest, “- have been nothing but unsubtle about my intentions with you.”
Now it was your time to laugh, half frustrated still, half amused by his antics. “You think so?”
“Yeah, well…,” he trailed off, tilting his head from one side to the other.
“I don’t know about that.”
He sighed, acting a bit annoyed by your hesitation, but remained silent after. He watched you squirm under his gaze, then your attempt to pull your hand from his grip. And when you growled in frustration, he offered you an encouraging smile, which only led to you feeling infuriated.
Why is this so hard?, you internally screamed at yourself, don’t make this so hard, it isn’t!
But somehow, it was.
Because you knew Taz, you knew how he was, you knew that he gained deep satisfaction out of being noncommittal and ambivalent and adventurous, and you didn’t want this thing between you to turn out to be another adventure for him when you had already lost yourself in it a bit.
“Oh, fuck me,” you snapped, the hand that wasn’t still held by him wiping over your face. “I might be in love with you, okay? And I might be scared because of that. And right now, I’m really frustrated, because I should’ve just let you fuck me rather than starting this conversation and letting you fuck with me instead.”
The silence that followed your outburst felt deafening. Tears pricked in your eyes, tears of fear and frustration and anger. You finally pulled your hand from his, got up so quickly that your chair scraped over the floor and harshly rubbed your hands over your eyes in a desperate attempt of getting rid of your emotions.
This was humiliating. You were going to leave, right fucking now.
When you felt Taz grabbing your wrist, you all but whipped around to glare at him.
His face looked calm, with no trace of his former amusement. His fingers brushed over your skin, up to your elbow at first, then down again until his fingers intertwined with yours.
When he finally started speaking, particularly calm, your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly that you had a hard time understanding his words.
“I am very much trying,” he said, his eyes piercing into yours, “to not be fucking with you.”
He took a deep breath. “Fucking you, yeah, that I like.” You all but snorted, unamused and eased at the same time by his attempt of lightening the mood.
“And maybe I was acting a bit too casual. I’m sorry that I left you hanging. That I -,” he pointed his tongue out to wet his lips, “- left you under the impression that I was just in for a fling.”
“A fling,” you parroted, fighting a grin.
“You’re unbearable.”
“I’m not the one using the term ‘a fling’,” you shot back, air-quoting the last words.
“I’m trying to be serious.”
“Yeah, that much is clear.”
You looked at each other for a short moment before bursting into laughter that felt like alleviation.
Still laughing, Taz pulled you into him, hugging you so tightly that he ended up pressing the air from your lungs. With your ear squeezed against his chest, you could hear his amusement, his delight, rumbling in his chest.
“I might be in love with you, too,” he eventually said, quietly and a bit muffled, his face pressed against the crown of your head.
And after hearing you sigh in relief and feeling you melting into this hug a bit more, he added with his voice loaded with smugness, “and I still might want to fuck you tonight.”
a/n: thanks for reading, babes! I‘d gladly read your thoughts on it, wether in the comments, in a reblog or in my inbox or dm‘s! Sending kisses your way 💋