#I didn’t expect to post that last night just to wake up to almost twice as many notes as I requested for the next part | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gluion · 1 year ago

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here’s much to do with hate, but more with love ➵ lee sangyeon & lee hyunjae

non-idol!lee sangyeon x reader, non-idol!lee hyunjae x reader

when you land the lead role for your university's upcoming play, you expect your scene partner to be your best friend, lee hyunjae. but when your eyes discover a different lee beside romeo montague's, you're certain that the universe is not on your side.

genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers (kind of), afab reader (they/them pronouns), university au, theater au (?), suggestive themes, drinking, pet names (sweetheart), huh yunjin is your bestfriend, i don't remember much from physics so my bad if angular momentum is not taught in college (or probably a basic lesson), kevin moon is the director and kibum from shinee is the teacher advisor, three different scenes and one flashback, p1harmony cravity twice and ive cameo too, theater kids do know how to have fun!, sangyeon macbeth burn, the scottish play is macbeth btw, theater superstitions mentioned!!

word count ➵ 6.1k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

a/n ➵ here's my submission for the secret santa fic exchange of the deoboyznet! i got daisy @daisyvisions <3 i hope you enjoy this, and i hope i got to fulfill your request (and did justice to sangmil) <3 thank you to @vernyangel and @winterchimez for betareading this <3 also thank you to @shegotthewoobies and @sizzlingdino for sharing your theater knowledge <3 much love <3 i'll definitely consider writing a part 2 for this fic if anyone wants it :') for everyone, please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr) and leave feedback <3

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

To exist is to perform. At every waking moment—every second, every location, every play—is an audience ready to witness an act, regardless of whether they attended the first act or came in the middle of the third. To exist is to perform. No matter what role you signed up for, you’re left to act as your own backstage crew, cast, and director. To exist is to perform. There’s no such thing as intermission for the crowd remains rooted in their seats. To exist is to perform. You’re born an actor; nothing can change that.

There’s an unwritten contract that comes with being an actor; it is to understand your role and scene, and then immerse in what your character is undergoing. Let the curtains draw back and feel. And most of all, never allow the audience or your castmate to disrupt the show.

(It didn’t matter if you were performing for someone or no one. The roles you undertake are made for you, after all; it’s only right to perform, perform, perform.)

(And regardless of the nature of the role—ensemble or lead, it didn’t matter because they held their own value—you knew to perform it as if it were your last show. But you’ll never allow yourself to be a ham; you would rather have someone exclaim the official name of “The Scottish Play” in the theater—scratch that, you would rather hear “good luck” at every opening night.)

For today’s play, you’re left with a monotonous role—a university student forced to listen to the blabbering of a lecturer as they teeter on a tightrope. At any second, you swear you could almost slip and fall into slumber, but the sound of your professor clearing his throat is what has you scrambling back into focus.

“So, angular momentum.” God, you need to get out of here.

Before you can find yourself falling back into your thoughts, the table vibrates. You look down at your phone to see a text from your best friend.

jennikirin: GIRRRLLL… jennikirin: i just heard that sir key posted the casting list

Your eyebrows shoot up. With hands quick to grab your phone and type out a reply, the voice of your professor turns into elevator music.

y/n: HUHHH isn’t that supposed to be coming out next week??? jennikirin: YEAA but zuha told me that sir key and kevin wanted it up early just so they could start preparing for the production jennikirin: jichang told her btw HUEYIQEYE y/n: IMCRYAINDG!?!@?@ y/n: fuck ME now i have to sit through the rest of this class knowing that the list is out already??? jennikirin: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED i’m stuck with sir son in stupid econ… jennikirin: like I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GREGORY MANKIW!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! y/n: i’m learning about stupid angular momentum under sir won… y/n: like i’m only here because ITS A GENERAL SUBJECT!!! I’M AN ADVERTISING MAJOR?? jennikirin: nvm sir son is dismissing us early 💗 i’m bolting to that corkboard see ya y/n: FAWK YEWWWW

All you have to do is follow through with your role until the curtains draw close—a simple task that seems impossible to complete. If your knees were to hit the ground and your hands would come together in a prayer position, would the performance be life-changing that the show is cut short? Could you be free from your duty as an actor playing a student?

(And it’s funny because you spent countless hours studying and praying to get into this university; you were in no position to complain.)

“That’s it for today’s class! Please make sure to read up on—”

You were out of the classroom before you could hear your professor’s full announcement. The details of your next assignment don’t matter when your fate is stored in a paper posted on a corkboard.

(Though, you know it is a lie. You did need to pass Mr. Won’s class to get your degree, and you didn’t want to go through Physics a second time.)

The hallway is filled with rumbling students, off to go to their next class or itching to get some food during their break in between. As you made your way through, you could only spit out half-hearted excuses—Sorry! Just passing!—as you bumped shoulders with strangers. Different looks were thrown your way, apologetic and scornful ones to name a few.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you look down to see a text message from Yunjin. A sigh leaves you as you type out a reply while walking.

jennikirin: I JUST GOT HERE jennikirin: WRU y/n: OTW WAIR FIR ME jennikirin: BITCHHHH OKAY

Once you’ve made it out of the sea of extras, you can spot the brown corkboard surrounded by a crowd of students, and you can see your ginger-haired friend looking down at her phone. She’s pacing around, struggling to not look at the cast list.

“Huh Yunjin!” Her eyes land on you as you call out her name. You scurry your way to her. “Sorry! The hallways were packed.”

“It’s fine! Now, we need to check the casting list. I was practically dying not looking at it.” She tugs on your arm, maneuvering you both closer to the paper plastered on the corkboard. As she says excuses, you spot familiar faces leaving with different expressions—joy and disappointment to name a few.

You can spot Yoon Keeho and Hwang Intak walking away, sighs of relief leaving them. Shoulders down are what Kang Minhee and Ham Wonjin sported, a teary-eyed Song Hyeongjun trailing behind the two. Faces of those you knew during your time in countless productions, and others you’ve only met during auditions; they’ve read the paper that had their fates.

Every step is a dreadful one as you trudge your way through the crowd. (Or you could say being dragged by your best friend.) But before you can attest, you find yourself facing Yunjin, both of you only one look away from finding out your fates.

“Okay, are we ready?” Be still, your heart.

With one nod, you both look at the piece of paper that holds the names of those participating in the Romeo and Juliet production. As you spot Yunjin’s name beside Rosaline Capulet, your heart leaps at the sight.

“Oh my god, Yunjin, you GOT IT!”

“Y/N, YOU’RE JULIET!” You lock eyes with your best friend, eyebrows raised in confusion at her words. “Girl, look!” She moves your face with one hand and has the other pointing right where your name lands—Y/N as Juliet Capulet. Your hand reaches to your face, palm covering your mouth as you hold back a gasp. Mind jumbled, you didn’t know what to say.

Yunjin pulls you into an embrace, jumping in her place. “WE GOT IN!” Her cheer sounds throughout the hallway, earning stares from those surrounding you two and those passing by.

Your eyes trail down the list, trying to find someone’s name. The sight of your other best friend’s name has you smiling, but you’re pulled out of your utopia when you find it situated beside a character he didn’t audition for—Lee Jaehyun as Count Paris.

“Hyunjae didn’t get Romeo?” The whisper has Yunjin halting her actions.

Her eyes rest back on the casting list. “What? He didn’t get in?”

“No, he did, but he’s playing Paris.” With furrowed eyebrows, your eyes look to who your scene partner is; who is your Romeo Montague? And when you see the word “Lee”, you expect that Sir Key might’ve made a mistake and inputted Hyunjae’s name twice.

That is until you read the word that trails after the first—Lee Sangyeon as Romeo Montague.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lighting erupts within you. The air current moves at a speed fast enough to form a tornado, and it just so happens that you’re in the eye of it. You’re face-to-face with a natural disaster, wondering its next course of action—to consume you whole or to leave you be.

Lee fucking Sangyeon; oh how you couldn’t even say his name without your blood boiling. Is there anything even good to say about the cocky motherfucker?

You shared the tragic fate of attending the same high school as Sangyeon. And just like you, he was in the theater club. At first, he was just someone like you—a student with a passion for acting. But the thing about Sangyeon is that he presents himself well, earning gushes from those part of the club, students and teachers alike. It seemed that he was the perfect actor, always landing the leading roles. At one point, you wanted to believe that it was because he was a good actor, but the reality unraveled itself when you saw what was behind the scenes.

Lee Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he goes, shared the same dreams as Sangyeon. They both wanted to act, ideally landing leading roles. The passion the two shared should’ve fostered friendly rivalry, a way to propel them to reach heights never imagined. But the more Sangyeon received countless opportunities to play the lead role, the more Hyunjae’s determination started to crumble. What makes the whole thing even bleaker is that Sangyeon knew what his rival felt, and made the most out of that opportunity to tear him down.

What started off as genuine words of encouragement had turned into two-faced statements. And it hurt to see your best friend believe he was incapable of becoming an actor. If anything, you could name countless roles that he deserved to play the leading role, and many could agree with you. As your best friend started to crumble, you were driven by the desire to protect him. With every appearance Sangyeon made, your hostility towards him grew, and it didn’t help that he solidified it with only one interaction.

Scratchy; that’s what your sweater feels like against your skin. Perhaps it’s the heat of the hallway that has you wanting to strip your knit sweater off, or the material has just worn off. You tug on the collar, hoping that the discomfort will dissipate. Eyes trained on the corkboard that held the names of productions your club has done throughout the years, you wonder what role could you land for The Scottish Play.

It’s unlike you to audition for a big role, a leading role to be exact, for you found yourself growing comfortable in minor ones and ensemble. Yunjin has never been able to convince you to audition for the big roles, and your other friend, Kim Younghoon, could never find the right words to push you to sign up under a main character. But Hyunjae held some power over you—If you audition for Lady Macbeth, I’ll try out for Macbeth—and you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no, especially when Hyunjae was considering giving up auditioning for leading roles overall.

You can feel the coolness of the concrete wall against your nape. Hamlet, Three Kingdoms, Sweeney Todd, and more are the productions you’ve hesitated to audition for the lead roles. You close your eyes in an attempt to calm your nerves. One audition wouldn’t kick you out of the club, right? If Ms. Jang learned that you were unfit to be an actor at that moment, you put the blame on Hyunjae.

(But in reality, you knew you would blame yourself. Hyunjae wouldn’t be at fault for what Ms. Jang decides to do with you. Every failure you face is caused by you, and you need to take responsibility for each one.)

Then, the door swings open, and the cold air that the air conditioners of the theater expel hits your skin, causing goosebumps to form. A shudder runs down your spine. Your eyes peel open, and you’re ready to greet the person who exited the theater, about to wish them luck. But when you catch sight of the one person who has done nothing but tear your best friend down, the taste in your mouth is like acid.

His head whips in your direction, catching sight of you seated with the sample script that Ms. Jang provided resting on your lap. His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes trail you from top to bottom. “So, which one?”

The question catches you off guard. Although you didn’t like Sangyeon, you two didn’t really talk for there was no reason to do so in the first place. So, when he does decide to talk to you—like this moment, and it’s not like you two really talked until now—you find yourself surprised at the interactions.

When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles with a smug look plastered on his face. “Which of the Three Witches?”

And with just one question, you feel your resolve snap. For him to assume that you were auditioning for one of those roles felt like an insult. It’s not that you didn’t see the value of these roles; you know that the production is nothing without the people to fulfill the minor roles. But to hear such a question from him with his record of humiliating Hyunjae, you cannot help but believe he’s trying to do the same to you.

“I’m auditioning for Lady Macbeth,” you answer, venom laced with your tone. It doesn’t help that shock casts on Sangyeon’s features.

“Oh, I see,” he starts. He clears his throat, an attempt to hide his bewilderment, and shoots you a smile. “Well, I’d like to have you as my scene partner.”

Cocky—that’s all Lee Sangyeon will ever be. His ego has been inflated with all the leading roles he’s landed. You’ve never met anyone filled with pride like his; how could he prance around with confidence that he would get the role he auditioned for every single time?

You roll your eyes as you stand up from your seat, the script now in your hands. “I can’t believe you’re so confident that you’ll be playing Macbeth. Have you ever considered that maybe you won’t play the main role for once?” The glare you shoot at him does nothing to his pride.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty confident about the performance I gave just a few minutes ago.”

It baffles you. Sangyeon continues to prove that he’s never been given a reality check; maybe you should snap some sense into him.

“I’d rather settle for being part of the ensemble—no, having no role than play your scene partner.” If Sangyeon is thrown off by your statement, he does a good job hiding it, just like the supposed perfect actor when it comes to handling ad-libs on stage. He would never understand what it means to be an actor—what makes a production successful—if he didn’t appreciate the minor roles.

If he had something to say back to you, you don’t give him a window to do so for you have taken your leave. You first came with a desire for the auditions to be over, but now, you come with a desire to prove you’re an actor capable of any role. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, especially whatever Lee Sangyeon seemed to think about you.

For the first time, you and Hyunjae played the leading roles in a production. Sangyeon was left as an understudy.

Although you were in university, it’s not that you could escape Sangyeon for you two were in theater. Thankfully, the productions you’ve had a chance to work on didn’t always have Sangyeon playing the leading role.

(Though, he did still play a handful. Perhaps he still held some charm over the university crowd.)

But due to the bigger cast and production team, it was usually easy for you to avoid him. You know when to take your leave, and you know to tune him out if you can hear him act (or speak, really). Nothing good ever comes out of interacting with Sangyeon; it’s best to limit your interactions with him for it would preserve your sanity.

But the universe seems to have other plans for you. Face-to-face with his name situated right beside the name in which your character is romantically interested, you cannot help but read his name again, and again, and again.

You wish that this is just a nightmare, that you fell asleep in the middle of Mr. Won’s class, and that you’re paying for the consequences by your consciousness presenting you with the worst outcome. God, you really did mean it when you said you would rather settle for no role than play Sangyeon’s scene partner.

Stupid Sangyeon, Sangyeon, Sangyeon. And as if it were the curse of the Bloody Mary, saying his name three times brings you to your demise.

“Huh, guess you ended up being my scene partner after all.”

You whip your head to where the devil stands, right beside you with arms crossed as his eyes remain on the casting list. His gaze lands on you, and a smug grin rests on his face. “I’m wondering if you’ll talk to Kevin or Sir Key about withdrawing from the production.”

His words make you frown. Before you can retort, he walks away, your eyes burning holes into his back. Yunjin could sense the rage within you and kept her hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I cannot believe that guy.” You look at your best friend who only holds an apologetic look. “Can’t believe I have to deal with his shit even ‘till now.”

“I know.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. Before she could say more, her phone vibrated in her hand. As she reads out the notification, she groans. “Fuck, I need to go. I just remembered I have a project to work on.” She stores her phone away. “Where are you headed?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna wait for Hyunjae,” you say as your shoulders sag down. As you hear your best friend hum, you spot a teasing smile resting on her lips and you roll your eyes. “You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what? I’m not saying anything,” Yunjin attempts to defend herself but you both know she’s far from innocent.

You shake your head, a giggle leaving you. “Whatever, go! I’ll see you later.” You’re left staring at the cast list as she takes her leave. Busy hands fiddle with your phone, clicking one of the contacts marked as a favorite. You bring it close to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hyunjae-ah, where are you?”

“I’m on the way to where the cast is posted!” His hurried reply signals that he’s running to where you are. “I just heard from Joshua that it was released early.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I heard the same from Yunjin. I’ll wait for you.”

“No need to wait too long.” You look behind you to see your best friend standing a few meters away. His hair is tousled up from all the running but still falls back perfectly in place. His hand combs through it, a grin resting on his lips at the sight of you, as he jogs towards you.

“Hey, where’d you come from?”

His arm finds its spot around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. All while he is transfixed on the castling list, your gaze rests on your best friend. “I just had Ethics—oh my god, YOU GOT JULIET!” He spins to face you and brings you into a hug.

“Yeah,” your arms find their place around his shoulders as his limbs rest on your waist. “But, you know, you got Paris.” When you lean back, you only see a grin on his lips.

“Yeah, but who cares? I mean, my sweetheart got the part she wanted.” There he goes again, using the pet name that started as a quip but still sticks years later. You roll your eyes at his remark, but before you can say any more, he beats you to it. “Don’t think about backing out now.”

A sigh leaves you. “But,” you glance at the name of your (and Hyunjae’s) enemy, “I’ve gone through enough of him in high school. Can’t I live my uni life in peace?” You pout at your best friend, and he chuckles at your behavior, cheeks dusted with hues of red.

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of making you quit such a big role?” Would it be that bad to say yes? “C’mon, playing Juliet is a huge deal! You’re destined to play that role! And, I mean, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Sir Key and Kevin…”

God, it did hurt you to agree with Hyunjae. You didn’t want to waste the time and effort Sir Key and Kevin Moon, the teacher adviser and the director, must’ve put into crafting the cast list. But to go through months with Sangyeon, all for a university play? It’s not that you were pursuing a career in theater, or acting for that matter.

But would you from a few years back—a high schooler who treated every theater production as if it were a Broadway one��say the same thing? Is this the role you wanted to take on as an actor, one willing to step down over a nuisance?

With one sigh, Hyunjae knew what your answer was. He smiles before dragging you away from the piece of paper that seems to only bring downpour. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better but I heard from Changmin that there’ll be a house party. Maybe we can drink the sour mouths away.”

“Drink the what away?” You chuckle at his choice of words. “Hyunjae, I’m so glad you aren’t a scriptwriter.”

He scoffs at your insult, “But you get what I mean.”

“I do not.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully shoving you which causes you to giggle. “Let’s just drink the bitterness away. We could be meeting our other castmates and the prod team, maybe getting to know them more.”

You cannot help but hum as you ponder over your schedule for the rest of the week. “I don’t know. I have this one homework for Mr. Won’s class that I sure as hell don’t know how to answer. I mean, I don’t even know what the instructions are!”

“Ah, just trust me! I’ll help you out with that. Just,” he stops you two in the middle of the hallway. There were barely any students for they scrambled off to their respective classrooms or looked for lunch. He pouts at you, his hands now holding yours as his fingers draw circles on the back of your dorsals. “Go with me, will you?”

It doesn’t take you a moment for you to make up your mind; you’re sure the trade-offs that come from that party won’t save your ass from Physics or Sangyeon.

But when Hyunjae leans in, his lips ghosting your ear, your breath hitches. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” You’re nothing but a puddle (and a sheep). So once he leans back, you nod. At the sight of your confirmation, he smiles. “Okay, let’s go have lunch.”

You can only hope that Hyunjae (or any of your friends, really) understood annular momentum, or whatever it’s called.

(You truly are a lost cause in Physics, and you’ll be blaming it on Sangyeon. Every inconvenience is caused by him, anyway.)

For anyone who thinks theater kids couldn’t party, they’re wrong (partially, only). Sure, there were the occasional show tunes that played from Kevin’s playlist, and a certain someone named Ju Haknyeon who belts out of the blue, but no one complained.

With only a few drinks in, you and Hyunjae are buzzed. And although you both agreed on using this party as an opportunity to get to know the other members, you still found yourselves sticking together—shoulders bumped, hands laced, or arms wrapped around each other.

Now, you two along with Yunjin and Younghoon were hanging out in the kitchen, not away from where the crowd was but quiet enough to have your own conversations.

“You know, I finally got to talk to Jihyo,” Yunjin says before taking a sip from her drink.

Younghoon tilts his head. “Park Jihyo? The one playing Lady Capulet?” A hum of confirmation leaves her as she continues to drink. “Did you see her audition for The Baker’s Wife for Into The Woods?”

Yunjin nods, letting the rim of her cup leave her lips and smacking Younghoon’s arm repeatedly. “I was able to sit in for the auditions because I signed up for prod team instead. Girl, I can’t believe she didn’t get the part.”

“Yeah, didn’t Rei get the part instead?” Hyunjae asks to which Younghoon nods.

“Didn’t she audition for Little Red Riding Hood?”

Yunjin shrugs at your question. “I’m not sure, but I do see her playing that role versus the wife.” She sets her cup on the kitchen counter behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, though. They’re both outstanding actors but I would’ve changed the casting. Some of them would’ve played different roles that suited them vocally and acting-wise.”

“Well,” you sigh. “You know that some directors are just batshit blind.” Hyunjae cannot help but elbow you, earning a whine from you as he chuckles. “I’m serious, though! Like, look at Hyunjae! He’s the perfect example.”

“Ouch. Thanks for reminding me of my tragic history.”

You roll your eyes at Hyunjae’s words, the playful tone evident in his words. “I’m just saying, some directors don’t know what they’re doing.”

In no way did you have anything against Kevin. You’re certain that he knew what he was doing; it didn’t sit right that Hyunjae lost a huge role to the same prick who couldn’t get off his high horse. But there is no point in contesting because your best friend wouldn’t allow you. All that mattered to him was that you got the role.

“Yes, but I trust Kevin. Honestly, I’m just glad I still landed a role,” Hyunjae shrugs as he sips.

Younghoon hums along. “Exactly! I heard Hyeongjun didn’t even make it to ensemble.”

A groan rips out of your throat, knowing that the two made a good point. “Yeah, I trust him, too. I just,” you shake your head at the thought of your enemy. “I’m just sick of Sangyeon.”

At the mention of the devil’s name, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, your shoulder hitting against something firm. And when your eyes drift to the stranger, you’re met with the bane of your existence.

“Talking about me, sweetheart?”

To hear Sangyeon use that pet name had your stomach churning. You plant your hand against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but you feel his pecs through the white, cotton material, and you quickly retract it. Instead, you shrug his arm off.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze rests on the boy beside you, shooting him a smile. “Shouldn’t we use this time to build our chemistry?” To others, Sangyeon may have genuine enthusiasm to get to know his scene partner, but you and Hyunjae knew that his grin held nothing but arrogance.

You move closer to Hyunjae and his hand finds its spot on your waist. Sangyeon’s eyes flicker to your best friend’s hand but he still holds the same smile.

“Sangyeon, it’s just acting. I can easily fake chemistry,” you shake your head, trying to scoot even further towards Hyunjae. There’s barely any space between you two. “Unless your supposed great ass can’t fake it. Did all those years spent in theater not teach you anything?”

There’s no way to fake chemistry; everyone knows that, from actors to audiences. But when you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, you would take any opportunity to get back at him for what he’s done—not only to Hyunjae but to you, as well.

Despite your words, Sangyeon’s expression never wavers. Stoic Sangyeon—he always knew how to get on your nerves. “Isn’t the point of this party to get to know each other?” You roll your eyes, looking away to give your eyes a break from the nuisance.

But when you feel his breath fanning against your left cheek, you’re afraid to say anything. The distance between you two right in front of your friends makes it feel like it’s forbidden, especially when Hyunjae has his arm wrapped around you.

“Especially with our kissing scenes.”

A chill runs down your spine. You know what he’s doing—embarrassing you in front of your high school friends just to rile you up, and rubbing it into Hyunjae that he got the lead role once more. Whatever place Sangyeon first held in your life didn’t matter anymore; he’s dug himself deeper into the pits of hell that you never knew of until this moment.

You want to push Sangyeon off and drag Hyunjae out of the house, alone together and far away from him, but a booming voice breaks the tension.

“Wow! It’s nice to see our Romeo and Juliet getting to know each other,” Kevin comes into the kitchen with a grin and gains everyone’s attention.

Under the gaze of your director, you don’t think twice about what you do. “Yeah!” Your arm quickly links with Sangyeon’s, and you notice Sangyeon freezes up. It’s out of character for you to do such; you can only imagine the expressions of your friends. “Just old friends catching up, right?” When you look at Sangyeon, you notice a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but your forced smile is enough for him to get the message.

“Yeah,” he smiles at Kevin. “I’m just glad that my Juliet is someone I know.” My Juliet? Oh, you’re going to be sick.

Kevin is amused with the newfound information. “I didn’t know you two were friends! I never see you two interacting.”

Perhaps your animosity towards Sangyeon is obvious but you weren’t going to allow the feud to get in the way of the role of a lifetime—Kevin can never know about the water that has gotten stained with red.

“Oh, we all went to the same high school.”

“Same theater club, too,” Sangyeon chimes in.

Kevin looks at everyone with amazement. “Oh, that’s so cool! From the same high school to the same university. I’m sure you’re all happy to see each other in the theater scene again.” Everyone but one, really.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone work in the production,” his eyes rested on you and Sangyeon once more. “Especially the chemistry between you two.”

When Kevin takes his leave, you all bid him farewell. And once he was an earshot away, you shrugged Sangyeon off. “See? I can fake chemistry.” Your glare finally causes a small reaction from him—the startled expression on his face makes you reign victorious. “Clearly, you need to work on that.”

If Sangyeon wants to retort, you don’t allow him to do so as you leave the kitchen with Hyunjae’s hand in yours.

A few hours have passed since Sangyeon decided to come and dampen Hyunjae’s and your moods. Thankfully, you haven’t seen him since but it could be because you were too drunk to care, or maybe you were too distracted by the boy whose lap you sit on.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Your best friend’s lips graze your ear. His hands hold onto your hip, his thumbs drawing patterns on the exposed skin that’s starting to peek. You giggle as you shake your head, earning a chuckle from him. “Why not?”

His whines have you dizzy (or it’s probably the effects of the alcohol), but you do your best to answer. “Hyunjae, we’re supposed to be getting to know our castmates better. Isn’t that why you asked me to go with you?” As you looked at everyone in the living room, you know for sure there was no chance to talk to them anymore for they were too intoxicated to remember tonight’s events.

When he presses his lips to your jawline, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, but we aren’t even talking to anyone. Why don’t we just go back to your place and just, I don’t know, make out?” He whispers the last words as if it were taboo.

This is what you and Hyunjae were—friends who couldn’t help but enter territories that blur the line between platonic and romantic. Since you two first entered university, you and Hyunjae couldn’t seem to keep your hands to themselves, always finding their places on each other. It started in such a blur—at a party just like this, both intoxicated—but both of you couldn’t help but keep it going. You still limited your relationship to occasional make-out sessions and snuggling, but you never went past such stages with him. The two of you didn’t mind the unclear boundaries, anyway.

“I don’t know,” you finally look at your best friend. His eyes seem to glimmer, and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I haven’t gotten to talk to Daniel.”

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “Kang Daniel? The one playing Lord Capulet?” As you hum, he chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of another man while you’re on my lap, sweetheart.” There he goes again, using that pet name.

“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my castmates better.” The teasing tone is evident. You crave the attention—the possession—Hyunjae seems to have for you.

And when his nose brushes against yours, all thoughts are knocked out of you. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to know anyone else, not even their names. You already have me.”

For a moment, you almost think this is it—the two of you will enter domains never traversed and there will be no way to go back from it, but you don’t mind, not with him, anyway.

His eyes flicker to your lips, and you hold your breath. “Don’t do that,” he chuckles. “You need to catch your breath before I take it away.”

Before he can do anything, you feel the couch move as someone takes a seat beside him. You’re ready to put some distance between the two of you, but when your eyes land on the stranger, you realize that the universe is not by your side or Hyunjae’s.

Hyunjae scoffs and his hand cradles your face, an attempt to get your attention back, but your blood boils over the sight of the same guy who always ruins everything.

“I didn’t know Juliet gets so touchy with Paris.” Sangyeon’s comment has you rolling your eyes. Clearly, you’re too distracted by him, and Hyunjae can’t do anything but give up. Instead, your best friend just settles on holding you close to him while your gaze remains on the devil.

“What’s with you? We don’t have to talk to each other unless it’s for rehearsals.” A frustrated sigh leaves you. “Don’t you know that all we have to do is act?”

When all you’re met with is the same cocky smile he flashed Hyunjae back at the kitchen, you shake your head. You’re about to glance at your best friend, prepared to tell him that you two should leave and retreat to your place.

That is until you feel someone’s fingers hold onto your chin, redirecting your gaze to Sangyeon. Now, you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, the distance between you two is even smaller in comparison to when you were in the kitchen.

The air is knocked out of your lungs, your eyes looking right at Sangyeon’s. Whatever you looked like had him smirking—you were defenseless against him for once.

“Can’t handle it?” The question is meant to provoke you, have your blood boil so that you scream profanities at him. You’re sure he’s pertaining to all the little stunts he’s been doing; teasing you to get a reaction from you, acting like you two are friends, and making comments about your acting experience.

But for a second, you almost think he’s talking about himself—could you handle him not only on the show dates but also be surrounded by him for the upcoming two months?

And once more, your brain turns into mush. The lights become streaks of different colors, and they do their job of making Sangyeon look different—still the same cocky motherfucker, but now, you want a taste.

Your mouth goes dry and you’re scared to exhale, but Sangyeon only smiles before letting his hand leave your chin. It’s clear he’s happy by your soundless reaction. When he stands up from the couch, he glances at Hyunjae, and his smile turns almost sinister.

You would’ve said something like you always do, but you’re unable to form a coherent sentence. You’re intoxicated; the alcohol’s still in your system, but Sangyeon’s gaze shows that the drinks you’ve had are nothing compared to him.

With that, he takes his leave. Whatever moment you and Hyunjae shared is now lost—all thanks to Sangyeon, once again.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog with feedback!

#deoboyznet #dbn: holiday party #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #the boyz #the boyz x reader #lee sangyeon #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #lee sangyeon x reader #lee hyunjae x reader #lee jaehyun x reader

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wonlouvre · 3 years ago

Text

more for forever | k. mg.

pairing: editor-in-chief mingyu x female reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, cliché (in the sense that mingyu is rich and likes to spoil his girlfriend) warnings: mentions of insecurity, food word count: 2.8k

💌: this is just pure indulgence and i really hope you all like this! please wait for wonwoo because i have something in store for him too ;) again, this is cliché please forgive me. please tell me what you think about it hehe i love reading your comments, feedbacks and tags! also a big thank you to @minkwans for sharing their ideas and giving this oneshot life! <3

The name Kim Mingyu didn’t ring a bell before. Not until his executive assistant reached out to you because apparently, the photographer slash writer read one of your blog posts and wanted you to take part for their sixth year anniversary issue. You know the famous magazine and publishing company, which is why you thought it was a scam or a ploy to steal your money. It’s a stupid assumption but you can’t blame your mind imagining the worse because you are not a fashion blogger at all. Why would a fashion magazine want you to write an article for them?

Sure, you regularly write and post blog entries on your website. But you write about your dog, your recently bought tea coaster and sometimes your skincare routine. Okay, maybe your occasional outfit of the day as well but nothing in detail. Again, why do they want you to write for them?

Kim Mingyu answered your questions and uncertainties when he personally emailed his contact details to you. You didn’t have to bite, but it didn’t hurt to confirm at the same time. You dialed the number and he indeed proved you wrong. He invited you for a meeting at his office and you accepted.

Your visits to high-rise buildings, much more to the luxurious office of an executive, is rare to never. You were jaw slacked when your eyes took in the crisp architecture. The design, the furniture, the color, the everything was beyond what you could have imagined a publishing company’s headquarters could be.

The meeting was nothing but short of an interview. He asked about your blog (which does not even have its own domain by the way), he asked what else you write about, he asked about your desk job (which doesn’t pay much but enough for you to get by), he asked if you have any background about fashion and one last question about your dog, Max, before talking about his proposal.

To be honest, Mingyu’s offer was tempting. For one article, the commission would be enough for you to move out of your current apartment and move to a brand new and fully-furnished one. But you remained true to yourself and without thinking twice, you declined.

You can tell that the editor-in-chief and his assistant, who stood beside him all throughout, was surprised by the looks on their faces. But Mingyu respected your decision and didn’t pursue any further. You took your stand from the chair and sincerely thanked him for the time and opportunity. You thought that would be it but when he followed suit with your actions and reached his hand out, it was your turn to be surprised.

You didn’t hesitate to mirror him and shake his hand, firmly. After that, you’d figure that it’s the end and that you’ll probably get to see a glimpse of him only through your television or phone. But Mingyu proved you wrong once again when he sent an unexpected email three days later asking why.

What might be the reason why you didn’t accept his offer?

You believed he deserved an explanation of your personal reasons so you disclosed them. And just like that the conversation on that email thread naturally progressed and eventually deepened. The professional emails became casual text messages, the text messages became phone calls, and the phone calls became actual face to face dates at late hours of the evening because he usually clocks out at 9 o’clock.

The rest, as they say, was in the hands of history.

Your first date with Mingyu was particularly odd. It was at a traditional Korean restaurant owned by one of his friends who introduced himself as Angel even though his real name is Jeonghan. You didn’t question him or anyone else why because that’s none of your business. But back to the date. It was odd because you have never been to a restaurant that’s completely empty and dead silent before (aside of course, from the typical music played in the background). You asked Mingyu if such an occurrence is normal and he just plainly answered that he rented the whole place all to yourselves. You have always known he’s rich. However, you didn’t believe that booking the whole restaurant was necessary.

Nonetheless, that first date, in some way, was special for you because there were no distractions. You enjoyed his company and you can tell he enjoyed yours too because he’s quick to mention a second date and it didn’t take a heartbeat for you to say yes.

But, by far, Mingyu inviting you to the behind the scenes of the making of the sixth anniversary issue that you turned down writing for is one of the most memorable dates the two of you had. It was out of the blue and you two were having difficulty in syncing your schedules. He was beginning to get busier and busier as the anniversary neared and the only way he could think of still making time for you is inviting you to his office. He called you and asked if you’re free to have lunch together. And you, being attracted to the handsome and tall man, didn’t hesitate to say yes.

He was in the middle of ending his morning meeting when you arrived and you were almost caught off-guard when all eyes were suddenly on you, making you feel small. But Mingyu didn't care as his smile beamed, immediately standing up from his chair to walk towards you. The rest of his staff were still in the midst of walking out of his office when he grasped your hand to pull you inside and you have never felt so shy your whole life.

Since then, he made you tag along to the creative process and you witnessed how hands on he was with every article, every photo, every brand, every trend and every detail that goes to the magazine that he has built and loved with his blood, sweat and tears. He’s beyond dedicated in finding and doing what’s best for the magazine and most importantly, its loyal readers.

You can tell that he really is deserving of everything that he has and is still receiving.

Mingyu being perfect also applies to your relationship. He’s always present despite being booked with fittings, meetings, photoshoots and business travels twenty-nine days of the month. He never fails to call, never fails to answer your calls. He never fails to offer the warmest hugs and the softest kisses. Well, he fails to be on time during your dates sometimes but he never once stood you up and his cuddles when he sleeps over are enough to apologize for the lost time.

The only flaw he has is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Most especially at times where he wants to shower his love in ways that cost more than your paycheck in a year.

Here are some examples:

You know that Mingyu pays attention to every word you say. Even if you just mentioned a passing topic, he will do his best to keep those in mind. With that being said, you mentioned once that you want to renovate the extra bedroom of your apartment and turn it into a study where you could work someday. Your boyfriend, being the rich man he is, offered to hire and pay a team that could help you bring the design you envisioned into life.

That was during the first few months of your relationship and you were flabbergasted by how easy it was for him to do or much less say. Needless to say, you immediately turned him down and he respected that (but of course, he pouted about it like a child all throughout the day).

But wait, there’s more.

Do you remember how you mentioned that Mingyu travels frequently? Yes? Well, Mingyu always books an extra ticket for you just in case you want to join him. Sometimes it’s not even about the flight ticket anymore. It’s about him stopping by your apartment to pick you up unexpectedly as if France is only a drive away.

It’s unbelievable, really. That’s why you always close the door on his face. But of course, you don’t forget to give him a long kiss and “stay safe” or “I’ll miss you” farewell. Mingyu, ever the good boy he is, lets you win and just return your kisses a little longer for the days he won’t be able to do so.

Mingyu’s intentions are pure and you’re well aware that the man that you love is only doing this because it’s simple, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you, he wants to give you what you deserve. You can never blame him for being out of touch from reality at times, but you can learn and grow with him. Although of course, he still needs a scolding and a wake up call every now and then.

Anything else? Yes.

You didn’t take into consideration that he’d remember, but one night while the two of you were about to fall asleep, you sleepily mumbled about your dreams of attending graduate school. It was a mere whisper in the late night against his chest and you even thought that he wouldn’t hear you at all because his eyes were already closed. You honestly didn’t expect that he’d send you brochures of different universities who offer various programs the following day. You had to calm him down as he excitedly talked you through it. You even had to shut him up with your lips and explain that you don’t have the time to study at the moment with your current job. He tried to encourage you with praises and admiration of your dedication, skills and knowledge. But no, you didn’t buy it and that’s the end of discussion.

The gifts, however, are something that Mingyu is not giving up on. The first few instances he gave you gifts whether it be a high-end handbag, shoes, clothing, and even jewelry, you allowed him. Because there were only a few. But along the way, the gifts got bigger and more frequent. You had to sit him down to set limitations. It was a long conversation of him trying to get the upper hand. But you didn’t let him outsmart you with his hugs and kisses. It was either he was going to tone it down with the gifts or no gifts at all.

Sometimes, as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you can’t avoid getting insecure and afraid that the euphoric time you share with Mingyu is not meant to last. At some point, the fact that he's one of the youngest successful editor-in-chiefs of a multi-million earning magazine got overwhelming. You can’t help but feel that you’re no match for him. And again, you hate that your mind gets clouded with ideas that you’re just a charity case he enjoys spending his money on. Of course, you believe that he doesn’t look at you in that way.

It’s you who thinks so.

“Hey.”

You release the bite on your bottom lip at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Your lost eyes shoot to the stove where he’s cooking and you notice that he’s about done so you should set the table.

You didn’t even answer Mingyu’s call which concerns him. He wipes the sauce off his hands on the apron he’s wearing and holds your waist before you could even round the corner to the cabinets.

His warmth snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyes blink up to him and he just raises his eyebrows at you.

“Is there something wrong?” He asks and lowers the heat of the conduction.

“Nothing, nothing,” you lie, shaking your head, “Let me get the plates. I’m quite hungry.”

You try escaping his strong arms and gaze, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist tighter. Your palms automatically land on his chest and the lean muscles make you gulp.

“I’m going to ask again and this time, I want you to tell me the truth,” he says in a serious yet gentle tone. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh and lean your forehead against his chest. Mingyu also sighs and kisses the top of your head. It’s better to tell him now because you’re not going to get anywhere if you’re just going to keep it to yourself. It will be unfair for him too and that’s not what you want.

“I just don’t feel so good about myself over the past few days,” you finally voice out. You sound weak, but Mingyu can hear you loud and clear. “I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Mingyu had to pull away and hold your shoulders to search your eyes, his frown showing disbelief and sadness both at the same time. “Did I do or say something to make you feel this way?”

“No, no,” you quickly say and hold his cheeks. “You did absolutely nothing. It’s just all in my head.”

Mingyu becomes silent and you wish you could just drop it because the regret and embarrassment is slowly dawning upon you. You wish you didn’t bring it up anymore because why would you burden him with your problems?

But Mingyu proves you wrong once again by holding your hand and carefully tugging you to sit on the dining table, saying softly, “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

And talk you did. You let out your concerns, worries, fears and insecurities. You bore it all without hiding or masking anything. A tear or two slipped once or twice and some words were interrupted by your hiccups, but Mingyu was patient. He listened and held your hand, promising you that it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of him. It’s okay to trust him because he loves you.

Mingyu loves you and his words and actions assure you that it’s okay to love him too.

When there were no more words left to say, the two of you shared a comfortable silence. The weight on your shoulders and the sick feeling in your stomach immediately vanished and you have never felt so relieved. You have never felt so free and loved. You can’t believe that Kim Mingyu is real.

“I know that this is unwarranted,” Mingyu breaks the silence after a while, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you in any of those ways. To me, you’re the person I love and I am happy with regardless of our different upbringings, different jobs. Those don’t matter to the time and love we share together.”

“I know,” you affirm and kiss his cheek.

Mingyu nods and smiles against the palm of your hand when a memory suddenly pops in his mind. “I’m not sure if I have told you this already. But the blog entry of yours that caught my attention is about your first ever blog post.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You have never heard of this before. “You mean the one where I talked about why I love writing so much?”

Your boyfriend smiles and nods. “That one.”

“Gosh. That’s so embarrassing,” you groan and palm your face.

“What do you mean embarrassing?” He argues, taking your hand to hold again. “That post was one of the most genuine posts that I have ever read. You explained, word by word, your passion, love and dedication to writing in the most honest way possible. Who wouldn’t be moved?”

You pout and unbeknownst to you, that makes his heart squeeze in adoration.

“It’s not that special,” you mumble, eyes on your intertwined hands.

“It is to me though.”

Mingyu’s eyes are dreamy and glossy as you meet them again and you could never be more in love. He holds your arms, coaxing you to stand up to straddle his lap. You giggle when he protectively wraps his arms around your waist. His nose scrunches when it grazes yours, but upon meeting his lips you feel it exhale a breath of relief.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. But when Max barks at the two of you, reminding you of the dinner you’re supposed to eat and share with him, the two of you burst into laughter before reluctantly detaching from each other.

“You doting over me with material things is a perk,” you humor him and he gives you his signature giggle. “But, I wouldn’t trade sharing the same bed, cooking meals or taking care of Max together over any of those.”

Mingyu nods gives you one last yet long kiss, a promise that there’s more for later.

More for forever.

---

a/n 2: this was supposed to be the header/poster of this story but it was too big lol

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itsthe-neo-zone · 3 years ago

Text

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

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daddyjackfrost · 4 years ago

Note

hii! from your prompt list can i request 16 with sakusa?

hi!! yes ofc! y’all do be requesting a lot of angst tho. don’t hate me when your heart hurts😛🥰

prompt 16: “we’re not together.”

sakusa x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort (post -timeskip)

Dating a high end volleyball player was hard.

No one told you of the sacrifices you would make and the turbulence of emotions you would feel. Still, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You hadn’t been with Sakusa long. You had known him for a few years but you two were just mutual friends. It was only when you moved to his town did you and Sakusa start getting close.

Your relationship was relatively new.

Sakusa had officially asked you on a date two months ago, and you two became official a week later. Although your status had changed, things with Sakusa were calm and hadn’t really changed.

There was a solid base of trust and respect that held your relationship together, and you knew that you and Sakusa were meant to be.

You were confident in your relationship. And you knew that Sakusa was a relatively private person, so when he asked to keep the relationship on the low until he was comfortable, you immediately agreed. You didn’t need the world to know you were dating him. You knew, and that was enough.

However, it did hurt when you couldn’t go to games with him, or leave with him. Due to his own, and his teams fan base, Sakusa was always surrounded, and he knew that if you were seen with him, the questions and press would be endless.

You understood where he was coming from, and respect his decision. But you told him that you wanted to at least where his jersey, which he reluctantly agreed too.

So, here you were. Sitting in your boyfriend’s jersey in the middle of the bleachers as fans cheered their loudest.

This game had been particularly long. Both teams unwilling to lose. You glanced down at your watch and frowned. You had taken the bus to get here and the last bus left ten minutes ago. You shrugged, I’ll tell Omi to take me.

One hour and a mere three points later, MBSY Black Jackals were celebrating their hard earned win. You smiled brightly, cheering with the crowd.

People rushed down the the floor, trying to get close to the players. You stayed back, letting the fans have their fill of sweat and one-sided adoration.

After the coach yelled for the gym to clear out, and once it did, you waited for Sakusa to take a shower. You smiled at Bokuto and Hinata, who both grinned at you, waving.

You felt eyes on your back but you shook them off. You needed to talk to Sakusa and tell him you needed a ride home, or to his place.

After about twenty minutes, Sakusa exited the locker room. He wore black sweatpants and a MBSY hoodie. His hair was went and his curls were on full display.

You stared at him with a slightly gape smile. Sakusa was the most beautiful man you had ever had the pleasure of seeing, and he was all yours.

You smiled at him when you caught his eye. “Omi, you did so well!”

Sakusa smiled at you, his eyes crinkling. It was a rare sight, but with you smiling at him and praising him, Sakusa couldn’t help it. He walked towards you, but you could see his eyes darting behind you and around you.

He was scared someone would see.

Sakusa and you walked out of the gym, hand in hand. It had been almost an hour since the game ended, and as you both walked and engaged in small talk, the idea of people still being around was not on your mind.

“Hey, Omi,” Sakusa turned his head slightly to look at you, “can I ride with you? The bus isn’t coming at this hour.”

Sakusa nodded, squeezing your hand. “Of course.”

He hated seeing you get on the bus after games when he would much rather have you seated beside him, but he wasn’t ready for the questions or the media that would come with a public relationship. Sakusa hated attention, and he knew that he had dedicated fans. The last thing he wanted was to make himself or you uncomfortable.

When the automatic doors opened, Sakusa immediately dropped your hand.

People hadn’t left. Fans surrounded the doors and your eyes widened. Curious and heated eyes eyed you and Sakusa, and your now unlinked hands.

Sakusa took a step away from you and your heart twisted. With his mask covering most of his face, you couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking.

Questions came blaring at Sakusa about you.

“Are you guys dating?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“You’re dating that?”

“Are you guys together?”

You licked your lips at the looks you received. Some were filled with disgust, others with hatred. You now realized why Sakusa had wanted to keep your relationship private, but there was no point in hiding it now.

They had seen you holding hands, and you were waiting for Sakusa to say something.

And he did.

Just not what you were expecting.

“No, we’re not together.”

Your heart dropped into to your stomach and you slowly turned to face him. With wide eyes and a frown, you stared at Sakusa’s blank eyes.

Yes, you hadn’t been together long, but for him to blatantly disregard your relationship made you feel like he was embarrassed of you.

And maybe he was.

Fans turned their heads to look at you for your reaction. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried your best to smile. You understood where Sakusa was coming from, but he has no right to embarrass you or ignore your relationship.

You were worth more than that.

You pulled your sweater tighter around you. “Yes,” you said. You looked at Sakusa in the eyes and then said, “We’re not together.”

You pushed past the crowd and began walking down the street. You could hear the crowd firing questions at Sakusa but their voices fell flat on your ears. It wasn’t fair to Sakusa pick and choose when he wanted to ‘be’ in a relationship. Instead of flat out saying that you weren’t together, he could have chosen not to answered.

You scoffed, tired of his games. Now you were waking alone at night, all because Sakusa was too afraid to deal with the outcome of a public relationship.

The air was chilling and you were afraid. Walking home in the dark was dangerous, and you knew that. But there was no other way to get home.

Or so you thought.

A silver car pulled up beside you and you almost started crying until you saw a familiar silver-haired man poke his head out. Bokuto stared at you with disbelief. “Y/n? What are you doing walking at this house?”

You blinked a few times before chuckling. Of course Bokuto would be your knight in shining armour.

You shrugged, spreading your arms. “Just walking home after my boyfriend told everyone we’re not together.”

Bokuto frowned. He parked the car and nodded at you. “Come, I’ll give you a lift home.”

You smiled at Bokuto and nodded, walking to the passenger side and slipping in. You sighed in content. His car was warm.

“Bo, you played really well today.” Bokuto grinned at you, drumming his hands on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, y/n! Did you see my receive at the end? Wasn’t it amazing?”

You laughed, telling him it was. Sitting with Bokuto and talking like friends took your mind off Sakusa, who was sitting in his own car, frowning.

When you got home, you thanked and said goodbye to Bokuto, immediately making your way to your bed. Your phone rang and you ignored it, knowing who it was.

You slipped under your covers and shut your eyes, too tired to change or do anything. Your heart still hurt from Sakusa’s words and you told yourself you’d shower and change your bed sheets when you wake up.

Three hours later, your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your doorbell and loud knocking.

You groaned and got out of bed, fixing your shirt. You opened the door as you yawned, and your eyes fell on Sakusa. He stood rigidly outside your door. His eyes wide with concern and his fist raised to knock.

You blinked a few times before shutting the door on his face.

“Y/n!” Sakusa quietly shouted. “Open the door.”

You shook your head, and then realized he couldn’t see you. “No. Go away, Kiyoomi. I’m tired.”

Sakusa sighed, slightly leaning against your door. When he drove down the street you had walked on, only to find you gone, he panicked. He had driven down the road twice and around the block to look for you but he couldn’t find you. Sakusa had never felt so guilty in his life.

When he tried calling you, he got no answer. It wasn’t until Bokuto had texted him that he accidentally had his knee pads and had dropped you off that his heart had settled a little.

The knowledge of you being in a car alone with Bokuto made Sakusa slightly angry. But then he realized you wouldn’t have been with him if he hadn’t been such a coward and a terrible boyfriend.

“Please, y/n,” you heard Sakusa’s strained voice come through the door. “I need to see you.”

You sighed and opened the door, walking to your sofa so Sakusa could let himself in. You sat crossed legged on the sofa, hugging a pillow.

Sakusa silently walked in, gently shutting the door behind him. You stared at him through tired and slightly annoyed eyes.

Sakusa walked up to you, scratching the back of his neck. You gently shut your eyes, tired.

“I tried calling you.”

You scoffed, opening your right eye to stare at Sakusa’s awkward stance.

“Congratulations.”

Sakusa let out a sigh, and then awkwardly shuffled towards the couch, sitting beside you, but not close to you.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have said that we weren’t together.”

You sighed, opening up both your eyes and laying the pillow on your lap. You turned your head to face Sakusa and your eyes slightly widened. Sakusa was slightly hunched, and his lips were pulled into a frown, his eyes a cloud of emotions you couldn’t decipher.

“What would you have said, Kiyoomi?”

Sakusa turned his head, meeting your eyes. “What do you mean?”

You cleared your throat. “You said you shouldn’t have said we weren’t together. What would you have said instead, then?”

Sakusa was silent. He knew that you were tired of him brushing you off when it came to your relationship in public and he felt terrible. But Sakusa wasn’t ready for the media and attention he knew that he would get.

“I... don’t—”

You sat up straighter, cutting Sakusa off.

“Kiyoomi, I know that you’re not comfortable with a public relationship, and I totally understand that, but you completely shut us down tonight. I had to walk home alone, and who knows what would have happened if Bokuto hadn’t come.”

Sakusa’s frowned deepened.

“I just... I don’t know. I guess I want to be treated like your equal and not someone you can just brush off when it’s convenient for you.”

Sakusa’s eyes widened and he sharply turned his head to face you. “You are my equal, y/n.”

You let out a small laugh. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Silence washed over you both, and you stared at your feet. You were in stalemate. You couldn’t tell Sakusa that you wanted him to reveal your relationship. You would never do that. But you didn’t want him to completely shut you down in public either.

Sakusa cleared his throat, and when you lifted your head, your eyes slightly widened. He was much closer than he was before.

With a hesitant pause, Sakusa gently put his thin pale hand on your knee. You watched through careful eyes.

Sakusa rarely ever ignited touch with you.

“I’m genuinely really sorry, y/n. I was only thinking for myself, only considering how I would feel.”

You slightly nodded, confirming his words.

“Come with me to the game tomorrow.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, surprised with his words. When you really looked at him, past the gentleness in his eyes, you saw promise.

There was no sign of nervousness. No indication of uncomfortableness.

“I am coming to the game tomorrow.”

Sakusa shook his head, gently rubbing your clothed knee unconsciously. “No, I mean,” Sakusa licked his lips, suddenly self-conscious. “Come with me tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow. Confused at what he was insinuating.

“As my girlfriend.”

You stared at Sakusa, waiting for him to take back his words.

“Kiyoomi... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Sakusa shook his head, a small gentle smile on his lips. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You stared at him, a look of shock on your face.

Sakusa pulled back, his lips pulling into a slightly wider grin. Your own lips lifted into a smile and you both stared at each other with goofy smiles and gentle eyes filled future promises.

“If you ever embarrass me like that in public though,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “I’ll tell the world you only eat blue teddy bear gummies.”

“Consider me threatened.”

hehe. angst refund @elektrosonix ? even though this is angst BUT there’s comfort at the end!

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @aghashiii @fail-big

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa angst #sakusa drabble #msby sakusa #sakusa x reader #hq prompt #haikyuu sakusa #hana.writes!

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illicitlimerence-writes · 4 years ago

Text

close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #marvel #mcu #avengers imagine

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waka-chan-out · 4 years ago

Text

Jet Lag

based on this request

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: established relationship, somnophilia, consensual nonconsent, oral (f. recieving), light hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, technically cockwarming at the end?

i will reiterate that this is not dubcon or noncon. this is 100% consensual and that is written into the story. do not read if this concept is upsetting to you, but there is no surprise element of genuine nonconsent here. if you have questions, please read my explanation here.

When Kiyoomi’s eyes opened he realized it was still dark outside. He was jet-lagged after returning from his most recent tournament, and it was really getting on his nerves that he couldn’t sleep through the night. His hand absentmindedly combed through your hair. You were such a heavy sleeper, barely stirring even when he was restless and awake. You hummed and nuzzled further against his chest.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and checked the time. 4 am. Damn it. At least he was making some progress towards a full night of sleep. His few nights at a hotel on the way back had seen him waking just after midnight and falling asleep when the team was out to dinner, much to Atsumu’s delight. He flipped through the notifications he’d gotten since last night and miserably wondered why anyone would contact him at this hour.

Your hand shifted from around his waist. He glanced down in amusement. It dragged down towards his lower stomach, then back up to his chest. The touch sent goosebumps through his body. You continued the movement, massaging at his abdomen with a steady palm and wandering fingers. It was one part soothing, another part horrifyingly arousing.

Your hand slowed on his stomach, traveling father down and settling there. You had laid your hand right on his — shit. Was he hard?

Kiyoomi stared up at the ceiling. How desperate was he that a simple touch like that put him in this state?

He had to admit, though, your hand probably wasn’t the only reason he was like this. You had kicked down the sheets, exposing your bare legs where they were tangled with his. You were only wearing a large t shirt and an immodest pair of underwear. It all felt very deliberate, just like the way your hand was now resting directly on his achingly hard cock.

He slid his hand down your body and pulled up the side of your shirt. He carefully ran his fingers along your skin. He felt your stomach flutter at his touch, and you shifted so you were on your back, legs parted and abdomen exposed. Shit.

Kiyoomi let his hand glide under your shirt once again. His fingers traced along your skin to your chest, where he gently tugged at one of your nipples. You tipped your head to the side and he swore that you smiled in your sleep.

He continued the gentle slide of his fingers, moving between the soft buds until your hips were shifting against the bed. He smiled down at you. You looked so cute like this, responsive to him even in your sleep. He tried to be slow and patient, but the way your breath fluttered his hair made it hard to control himself.

He slid his hand down his boxers and, even though he was expecting it, he was still shocked by just how hard he was already. He closed his eyes at the feeling of his hand pumping up and down on his cock. It was good, so good, but it wasn’t enough.

He wanted to touch you. His hand felt okay but god, your skin was so soft and you were so receptive, even while asleep. He could see the deep rise and fall of your chest, your nipples peeking out from your soft shirt, the slight angle of your hips. Your words echoed in his head, telling him “it’s okay, you can wake me up. or not. i don’t mind.” He felt dirty, but you had made it clear that it was okay, welcome even.

He experimentally ran his hand down your figure again, stopping at the hem of your underwear. He pressed his hand between your legs, rubbing you gently through the cloth barrier. You hummed in your sleep and he smiled, pleased. He put a little more pressure in the movement, dragging his fingers over your clothed clit. You didn’t respond as much this time, but the way he could feel the fabric dampening under his touch told him everything he needed to know.

He continued to pump his cock as he pushed the fabric to the side to touch you for real. A small shudder left him as he felt just how ready you were for him, even fast asleep. You were his every second of the day, any time he wanted you.

He slowed his grip on himself and focused on slipping a finger inside of you. The angle was awkward, but he couldn’t resist adding another. Fuck, you were so wet. If he knew you’d react like this he would’ve taken advantage of your suggestion earlier. His hand on his cock felt so boring when you were right there, completely ready for him.

He removed his fingers and, before he could think it through, slipped them between his lips. Jesus. The taste on his tongue was too tempting. He carefully withdrew from beside you, holding the sheets up as he shifted between your legs.

You were always a heavy sleeper. That’s why even when he pressed his mouth against you and swirled his tongue, your only response was a shift of your hips. He sighed against you, trying to remember a the last time he had felt so at home somewhere. The tournament had taken him away from you for far too long, and he had passed out as soon as he crawled into bed with you. He hadn’t had time to show you how much he had missed you, not properly. You knew, of course, because he had called you at least twice, cock in hand, begging to hear about your day. You didn’t say anything about it, but he was sure you knew that he just desperately needed your voice in his ear as he came.

His grip on your thighs was usually almost bruising, but now it was light, a gentle loop around your thighs to keep you from shutting him out in your sleep. He wondered if he could make you come without waking you up. After you had told him you wanted this, he researched it, of course. He knew it was possible. Judging by the way your breathing was picking up, he might have a chance. Your body stayed mostly still against the bed, weighed down by the anchor of sleep. He wondered if you were aware of what was happening. He wondered if the feeling between your legs carried and he was fucking you in your dreams.

He got a little careless as he watched your face for every small reaction. Your breathing was uneven and your brow just slightly furrowed. He was trying to be gentle, but he couldn’t help running his tongue sloppily from your entrance to your clit and sucking. It caused your body to tense, and your hips shifted just slightly. He thought for a moment that you might wake up and, though he’d be a little disappointed, he knew you would bury your hands in his hair and pull just the way he liked and he’d forget to mind after all. But you didn’t wake up, and he realized you were shaking. Holy shit, he had been right. You were coming, so gently and quietly that he might not have noticed if he wasn’t so familiar with what every flex of your body meant.

He closed his eyes and continued the gentle curl of his tongue, not stopping until your body went still and you let out a small sigh. He pulled his head away and wiped his mouth on the collar of his shirt, more than pleased with himself. He shifted back beside you and was once again reminded just how hard he was, more so now than ever. He wanted you, so badly, and he couldn’t wait until the morning. Fuck, it was technically morning, and you had given him the okay, and you were already so wet that you’d probably barely notice the gentle push of his cock if he just lifted your leg and slipped inside.

He settled down beside you and wrapped a hand around your waist, trying to gently coax you onto your side. It took a moment of careful touches, slowly pulling you closer to him until you rolled and settled, back flush against his chest. He smiled and brushed your hair away from the back of your neck, pressing a kiss right at the nape as he slipped an arm under your pillow. The other he used to hold your leg up, right under the knee until he could get close and line himself up with your entrance. He continued pressing barely there kisses to your neck as he retook hold of your leg and, as slowly as he could with what remained of his self control, pushed inside of you.

He gasped and leaned his face into your hair, trying to anchor himself before he continued moving. It had been far too long since he had been able to bury himself inside of you, and fuck he had missed it. The arm under your pillow came up to grasp your opposite shoulder, keeping you held tightly against him.

He gathered his thoughts and drew his hips back. He moved slowly, gently, grinding into you rather than thrusting. He wanted to drag this out, wanted it to last, because you were so pliable and felt so good, it would be a waste to not take advantage of it. Every tender movement felt like its own little universe, hanging in the dark and silence and disappearing on his next exhale.

The only thing that could tear him from that world was the subtle twitch of your fingers, the nuzzle of your face against the pillow, then, finally, the steadying of your breath, pulled out of the long, slow rhythm of sleep.

You let out a small, sleepy noise, almost like you were stretching, and slipped a hand back to bury in his hair.

“Omi,” you mumbled. He smiled against your skin and continued his quiet shift inside of you.

“Shh. I’ve got you.” He sighed heavily, appreciating the new wiggle of your hips, like you were trying to press closer, bury him deeper. He held your leg tighter and pushed father on his next thrust in, holding himself inside of you. You let out a startled gasp and tightened your hand in his hair. He groaned, deep in his chest. Fuck, you could tear his hair out and he’d probably just pick up the pace.

He resumed his movement, not afraid of going a little harder now that you were awake. You were still groggy, but the way your hands gripped his wrist and his curls told him you were with him, feeling every bit as desperate and wanting as he was. His breath was coming in pants now, right in your ear, and he could feel you shivering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “You’re so good. Gonna make me come.”

You responded with a quiet moan, barely registering his words over the deep, delicious ache between your legs.

His rutted into you a little faster, as quick as he could stand when the haze of sleep was lurking at the back of both your minds. He let himself groan into your ear, not caring how needy he sounded. You were so good, and you felt so good, and you pulled his hair a little harder and he couldn’t stand it anymore.

His arms were rigid around you and he pushed his hips flush against you as he came. He let out what he was sure was the most desperate, fucked-out sound he had ever made, barely able to breathe as he spilled inside of you. There he was again, suspended in time, the darkness swallowing every breath as the fuzzy feeling in his brain faded, then disappeared.

He was left panting against you, vaguely aware that he was sweaty and horribly hot and you were combing your hand through his hair rather than pulling in. He tipped his head against your shoulder and let out a breathy laugh.

“Morning,” he said. You turned your face back and he met you with a kiss, gentle and a little sloppy because of the exhaustion settling through his body.

“Hi,” you whispered, smiling against his lips. He kissed you quickly, once, twice, and again, missing your mouth entirely on the last one. You laughed and he started to withdraw from you. You grabbed his hip before he could go any farther.

“Stay,” you said. He didn’t have the energy to ask what you were talking about, but you could hear the confusion in his tired grunt. “Sleep, Omi. Come here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled it around your waist, forcing him to settle closer, if that was possible, and press his face against the back of your neck. His eyes wouldn’t stay open, no matter how hard he tried to fight them. An unwavering heavy feeling spread through his body as he listened to your slowing breath and felt fingers running slowly through his now tangled curls.

The last thing he heard before his mind shut off entirely was an amused, whispered “I missed you.”

#tw somnophilia #tw consensual noncon #I CANNOT STRESS THE CONSENSUAL PART OF THIS ENOUGH #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

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wkemeup · 4 years ago

Text

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers.

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.

He froze.

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly.

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.

It was bullshit.

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years ago

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Mother’s Day Drabbles

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Miguel Galindo x Black!Reader, EZ Reyes x Black!Reader, Obispo Losa x Black!Reader

Summary: Four drabbles with my four favorite men from Mayans MC commemorating Mother’s Day with their loves.

Warning(s): Grief, loss of a child in the last drabble (sorry to my bishop girls) but the other ones are all fluffy goodness

Word count: 1,545

AN: It’s almost Father’s Day so y’know what sounds good? Reading some EXTREMELY late Mother’s Day drabbles!! lol. I haven’t posted anything in so long and these were in the drafts so here we are. Enjoy these random ideas that popped into my head. Trying to force myself to get into shorter form writing like drabbles and headcanons. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading! xo

Breakfast in bed - Angel (fluff)

“Daddy shhh! You gots ta be quiet.”

“Lo siento princesa.”

You fought to keep your eyes shut and not smile as they tried and failed at surprising you. You wouldn’t ruin their efforts so you just listened as they came into the bedroom and something was set on your nightstand.

It was silent for a moment before a ball of energy landed firmly on top of you, knocking the wind out of you and fully waking you up.

“Good morning mommy. I made you breakfast in bed.” Your beautiful little girl told you once she saw your eyes open.

A throat cleared and your eyes connected with your husband’s.

“Oh, Daddy helped too.” She added, getting comfortable in your lap as you sat up against your headboard and adjusted the bonnet on your head.

“Oh he did? Well thanks for helping Daddy.” You teased, as he took a seat on the bed next to you.

“Anything for you. Happy Mother’s Day.” Angel leaned in and kissed you on the lips once, twice, three times. The last peck lingered a little too long and the princess was not amused.

“Let her eat! The food is gonna get cold.” She grumbled, and you broke down in giggles. That daughter of yours was a sass machine and she stayed on her daddy’s head. He loved every bit of it.

“Okay, okay.” He relented, a grin on his face. Anything for his girls.

Coming home to a spotless clean house - Miguel (fluff)

As your driver pulled into the driveway of your large home, she sighed knowing your day had only just become. After a full day of work, she knew as soon as you stepped foot in the house you would need to pick up after the kids from their time running the nanny ragged. Then, you’d have to get dinner cooked before wrangling the kids to eat, bathe, and then sleep. No clue if you’d see your husband or if he was having a late night.

You loved your life. You loved your family. Sometimes things could just be a little tiring. But you put that smile on your face and you made your way into the house.

The quiet was the first thing to hit and surprise you. Your home was never this quiet at this time of day. You slowly walked further into the house, your nose guiding you to the kitchen where a delicious aroma caught your attention. As you rounded the corner, you were shocked to see your husband standing at the stove.

“Miguel?” You asked, confused at his presence and the state of the house. Everything was clean and put away. He was at home at a decent time and not off somewhere handling business. Something was going on.

“Hello mi amor.” He walked closer to you before grabbing your face and kissing your lips. You’d missed him today so you added a little pressure to the kiss, but it didn’t last long as there was a burning question on your mind.

“What’s going on? Where are the kids?” You asked, head swiveling, as soon as you ended the kiss, to see if you could spot them. You didn’t even notice Miguel maneuvering you onto one of the kitchen stools.

“The kids are in their rooms, dinner is cooking, the house is clean and you are going to enjoy this chardonnay I bought for you.” He handed you a glass and you took it without complaint. A sweet smile spread across your lips as you realized he did all of this for you.

“You do so many wonderful things for this family. I want you to enjoy your night to yourself. I will handle putting the children to bed and you will relax for the night. Your dinner should be done by the time I get back downstairs but in the meantime, I know you’ve been wanting to catch up on the new season of A Black Lady Sketch Show. It’s queued up in the living room.”

A kid wrangling free night? Your favorite tv show and wine? He already bought you everything you could ask for but this? This is so much better than any present he could have come up with. “How did I get so lucky?” You pondered, a dreamy smile on your face.

“I ask myself the same question every day. Happy Mother’s Day.” He replied, kissing you again before going to fulfill his promise.

Spa day for expectant mom - EZ (fluff)

Knowing what comes with being pregnant and actually experiencing the symptoms are two very different things. You don’t wanna say you underestimated things, but you were in the middle of your third trimester and you weren’t handling things very well.

“EZ!! EZEKIEL!” You hollered for him, from where you sat propped up on the couch. Your back was killing you, you couldn’t see your feet but you knew they were a hot mess, and you just generally felt uncomfortable. You knew it would all be worth it in the end, but the end was taking too damn long to get here.

Your boyfriend had been incredibly understanding of your constant mood swings. When you first told him you were pregnant, he went out and bought a bunch of pregnancy books. He was always reading one that first trimester. Angel would tease him and say he could just google everything, but EZ had always preferred having physical copies of text. He wanted to know everything you’d go through so he could help you deal with it.

You call him now and he doesn’t respond. You grow annoyed, but also slightly concerned because he never doesn’t answer you.

It took several tries but you manage to get yourself off the couch and head back towards your bedroom. When you push the door open, a wide smile breaks out on your face. The lights in the room were dimmed and your favorite candles were lit, bathing the room in a soothing scent. Songs from your ‘self care day’ playlist filled the otherwise silent air. On the bed was the biggest, fluffiest robe you’d ever seen in your life. There was also a basket filled with goodies including face masks, different color nail polish, massage oil, and your favorite snacks.

“What is all of this?” You asked your boyfriend who had almost as big a smile on his face as you did.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d just let your first Mother's Day go by with no acknowledgment, did you?”

You blinked somewhat in surprise. “I...I mean yeah I guess. My first Mother’s Day is next year. Baby Reyes isn’t even here yet.”

“So? You’re carrying our child. You gonna let me spoil you or you gonna keep making excuses why I can’t?” He asked, his eyebrow raised and a sly smirk on his face.

“Spoil away then.” You grinned, holding out a hand for him to take before pampering you for the rest of the night.

Cuddles - Bishop (angst, heed the tw up top please)

The ray from the television was the only light source illuminating the living room. You were laying on your side on the couch, eyes on the tv but not truly paying attention to it. The light from the tv reflected off the tear stains left in her cheeks.

Bishop came back from dealing with club stuff and leaned on the doorway just watching you. He knew it was a rough day for you. Everyday was hard, but today was especially hurtful. He’d be feeling the same way just next month.

He placed his kutte onto the armchair and slipped off his shoes before climbing over you. You jumped a little at his presence but he just gently nudged you up so he could squeeze between you and the back of the couch.

One arm slid under your head and the other rested on your waist as he settled in. The hand on your waist reached out and gently ran a thumb over the little face in the picture frame you held tightly in your hands.

“Our sweet boy.” He whispered, a sad smile on his face.

Your breath hitched and your shoulders began to shake as you silently cried. You missed him so much. The whole day you stayed inside hoping to avoid all the mother celebrations, but that didn’t help. The hurt ran deep and no amount of avoidance could stop it. This day was a special slap in the face and every year the last three years have been spent like this.

Bishop curled the arm under your head until his elbow laid on your clavicle. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

“You’ll always be his mother. That love is forever.” He softly but firmly stated before pecking your shoulder over and over.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in at the feel of him squeezing you tightly. It was comforting. He was always holding you together. He understood your pain and even though it hurt worse some days than others, you knew you had to continue on.

But for right now, you would cry in your man’s arms and hope next year went better.

#mother's day drabbles #angel reyes #ez reyes #miguel galindo #bishop losa #obispo losa #black reader #hhgbyebruh fics

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 4 years ago

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I can’t hide my child from my lover - Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Author’s note: This is the day Bucky thought about in Chapter 2. It’s the last time he’ll see you (foreshadowing?). So it takes place between chapter 1 and chapter 2.

Bucky wakes up to find you in his arms. You both are naked letting the silence comforting both of you. Last night you called Bucky to let him know that you could come over to talk and to keep the nightmares away. One thing lead to another and you find yourself with the love of your life in bed. „Don’t be mad at Sam. He didn’t know any better. He gave the shield away because he thought that no one could ever live up to the symbol. He was naiv. He didn’t expect that the government would abuse the shield. And don’t be mad at Steve either. He didn’t left you. He just wanted happiness.”, you whisper tracing small circles on his naked torso.

You look into Bucky’s face. “I like the new hairstyle. It suits you.” You kiss him, putting all your love into the kiss. “I’ve got to go.” You mumble.

“Stay. Stay a bit longer.” Bucky presses you deeper into him.

“I can’t. I have to pick up Alex. He stayed at Pepper’s with his best friend Morgan. And later he’s got a soccer match. I didn’t even know that 4 years old could play soccer.” You touch his face lightly. “You could come with me. Just come home. I miss you so much.” Your voice is shaking.

“I can’t.”

“You can. I’m begging you to just come home. Come back to me. But you don’t want to and I don’t understand it.” You start to sob so you quickly turn your head away.

“I can’t be a father. I told you that. You both are better off without me.” Bucky’s voice is hard.

You walk to your purse and take some papers. “I want you to sign them then. You’re giving me no choice.” You hand them over to Bucky visibly shaking.

“You want a divorce? Is that really what you want?”

“ I don’t want a divorce. I just want you. But I can’t hide my child from my lover, especially when my lover is the father of my child. I love you, James. I love you so much that I can’t breath. My heart breaks every time your not with me. I would give you anything in the world to just come home with me. But you don’t want to because you don’t love me anymore.” You cry. Heavy tears roll down your red cheeks.

“And i don’t understand it. When did you stop loving me? Because I never stopped loving you. I wanted you the moment you walked into the cafe. All the things we’ve been through - the shooting in Bucharest, me getting shot, Wakanda and all the wars and I never doubt our relationship. And when you asked me to be your wife I thought my heart would explode. When you vanished I was so depressed. I was so angry at the world. I couldn’t leave the bed for weeks until I found out I’m pregnant. The best gift. And I couldn’t be happier. At least I had half of you. When you came back I thought and I really hoped we could be a family. But you’re not the man I fell in love with. You’re not my James from Bucharest. He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t leave his child. He vanished. And he didn’t come back.”

You sob so heavily that you couldn’t stand anymore. You sit down hiding your face in your hand. “And i need to be a good mother for our child. Something I can’t do when I’m constantly crying. That’s why I’m setting you free from this marriage. That you can live the life you want and I can live the life I’ve got.” You close your eyes. Tears still falling down. “When you see my James, tell him I love him and he needs to get home because I miss him.” And with that you stand up and kiss Bucky like you never kissed him before. All the love and the pain you endured to this moment.

And he kisses you back with the same intensity and the same feelings promising himself that he will come back to you one day.

Chapter 4

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @moonlacebeam @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10

Sorry for posting twice a day. But this story has to get out of my head so I can be productive again. I hope there aren’t too many errors in the text but it’s almost midnight here and I’m kinda sleepy 😴

#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels

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starkeyscline · 4 years ago

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Freaky on Camera - Drew Starkey

Summary : After receiving a new camera for his birthday, Drew has the perfect idea on how to break it in.

Warnings: Smut. Smut. Smut and more smut. No plot. At all. Cussing. Oral (female and male receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex (Don’t be a fool, wrap the tool.) Spit play. Choking. Recording sex.

AN: Also this is my first time writing smut, so it’s probably going to be awful. Please give me feedback, and request things. I’m open to writing for basically anyone right now, but due to comfort reasons I will not write smut for underaged characters unless you’re okay with them being aged up.

Word Count : 2414

The minute Drew’s apartment door was shut, you were roughly pressed up against it. Dinner with the cast was fun, talking about random things going on in the show, life and so on and so forth. The whole time though, Drew couldn’t keep his hands off of you. His hand was resting on your thigh under the table, rubbing further up towards your core before darting back down multiple times. Despite him constantly teasing you, the meal went by nicely.

You had almost forgot about what he proposed earlier in the night, until his lips moved from yours to start their attack on your neck.

“So… how do you feel about the idea of recording us, love?” Drew asked, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt.

You thought for a moment, knowing it was something he had wanted to do before he got his new camera, but you were too iffy on the idea of using his phone. Just the idea of someone hacking into his icloud was more than enough of a reason for you to say no. But, with his new video camera you knew there were ways to be safe with it all.

“Mm.. I don’t know..” You said in a sultry tone, even though you knew for a fact you were down for it.

He nodded against your neck slightly, before he started to lower himself down to your collarbone, leaving a few hickeys.

“I’m down, let’s do it.” You smiled as you felt his smile against your skin, causing him to pick you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly to support your weight.

As he brought you to the bedroom he finally set hii down on the bed. He took a few moments to set up the camera before heading back to you.

The moment he reached you again, he pulled you onto his lap. His calloused hands began to tug on your shirt as you grinded against his lap. He finally pulled your shirt off, tossing it onto the ground. Your burgundy lacy bra was exposed, causing his jaw to drop some. He adored the set on you, loving how the color complimented your skin.

“Fuck, Y/n..” Drew groaned out, before pressing gentle kisses to your breasts, while working on the hooks.

You took this time to pull his shirt off, a small whine leaving your lips when his moved from your chest. As you continued or grind against his lap, you slowly stopped to undo the buckle he was wearing.

“Can we quit acting like this will be posted anywhere, and you just put my cock in your mouth?” Drew finally let out, causing you to laugh.

“I was waiting for one of us to say that.” You said getting off of the bed, and pulled off your skirt and thong, leaving you completely exposed as he stumbled to get naked himself.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.”

You hummed out in a thank you, as you got back on the bed. You slid in between the both of his legs, wrapping your plump lips around the tip of his cock.

He let in a small, sharp inhale as you did so.

You mainly focused on the tip of his cock for a bit, until he took a handful of your hair, and gently pushed your head down. Your small hands rested against his thighs, nails scratching down them gently, causing goosebumps in the wake of your fingers.

“Your mouth feels so good..” He groaned out, before you tapped on his thigh twice.

It was your signal for when you needed a moment, whether him shoving his cock too far back or you weren’t focused on breathing and he instantly stopped pumping his hips up.

Your hands replaced where your mouth once was, pumping his thick and lengthy cock. Your thumb occasionally brushing over the tip, spreading the precum all around.

Right as you were about to go down on him again, he opened up his mouth. “C’mere.”

You happily obliged, and opened your mouth as you knew what he was getting ready to do. He spit into your mouth, right on your tongue.

“Swallow.” Drew demanded, watching in admiration as you did. When you were finished, you instantly went back to going down on him.

You swirled your tongue around his tip a few times, one of your hands fondling his balls when his thrusts became more erratic, a sign that he was close. After a few more pumps of his hips, he finally released his load in your mouth.

Some spilled over, out of your lips as you released his cock from your mouth. You swapped whatever didn’t escape, and used your thumb to gather the rest and push it back into your mouth.

After the both of you took maybe a minute at most to regain your breath, and stamina, Drew instantly got off the bed and went to the foot of it. His calloused hands wrapped around your calves to pull you down to him. A small giggle left your lips as he did so, not completely expecting it.

Your legs instantly went on top of his shoulders, to make yourself more comfortable.

“Fuck.. you’re so wet baby, and I barely even touched you.” He groaned, two of his fingers sliding up your slit, gathering some of your wetness before rubbing your clit.

“Drew, c’mon.” you whined, craving the feeling of his tongue.

Typically he would make you beg for it, but due to the combination of the camera recording, and how wet you were — if he wasn’t so set on eating you out he would push his cock right in.

As Drew’s tongue skillfully licked your clit in the shape of figure eights, he pumped one of his fingers in and out of you. As you moaned, he felt himself growing hard again, motivating him to slide his middle finger in, then his index finger into you.

��You’re taking my fingers so well.. can’t wait for you to take my cock.” He spoke against your clit, you instantly becoming wetter.

As he continued to suck, lick and very lightly bite your clit you felt yourself grow closer to cumming. Your hips bucked up, thighs starting to shake and toes beginning to curl. This caused Drew to smirk, seeing how close you were to coming undone for him.

“C’mon baby girl.” He moaned out, the vibrations against your clit causing you to let out another loud moan, and then his fingers grazing your g-spot sent you over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking up as though you were trying to get away from him which caused him to wrap his arm around your hips, holding them down.

After you finished cumming, he lapped up what he could, before getting back onto the bed. You knew you wanted this to be more for him, then you, and he’d rather see your reaction.

“Move to the end of the bed, so you are facing away from it.” You said, causing his eyebrow to raise.

“So you’re making demands now?”

“No but I figured you’d like to see my tits bouncing as I ride you when you rewatch this.”

After that, he happily obliged. He moved down to the edge of the bed, his head resting right above the footboard, along with a pillow. As you straddled him, and teased him by rubbing your soaking entrance against his hard cock he let out a small groan, wanting more.

“C’mon. You wanted to ride me, so ride me.”

He didn’t have to say anything after that, as you lifted yourself and then his cock up, before slowly sliding down it. His hands instantly went to your hips, helping you hold yourself down as you got used to his size.

Despite having three of his fingers stretching you out minutes before, his dick always had a different effect - being larger in pretty much every way you could imagine.

After waiting a few seconds, you began to slide up and down his cock. Finding yourself the right angle, hands gripping the foot board to help keep yourself up, and back slightly angled so your breasts almost hit his face every time you moved yourself.

He took this time to slide one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it and slightly grazing his teeth against the bud.

An illicit moan left your mouth, riding him this fast after an orgasm already had you leading up to another one, and he knew that.

Drew eventually released your nipple and began to take control. One of his hands reached down, and smacked your ass harshly causing another illicit moan to leave, and then his hands roughly gripped at your hips. His nails gently dug into the soft skin, as he began to move your body to how he wanted.

Your hands released the foot board, and pushed your hair out of your face, as it was clinging all over your face and body due to your sweat.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned, as he continued to move your body how he wanted to.

As he brushed your g-spot a pornographic moan left your mouth, and you tossed your head back. Drew smirked as he had gotten you where he wanted you, before bringing you down one last time.

“I wanna switch positions.” He said, a small whine leaving your lips. You were so close to finishing, just for him to say that. What a fucking tease.

“Drew. I was so close.”

“I know, I’ll make it worth it. Promise.” He said, kissing you hungrily before you got off of him, and let him put you in the position he wanted you in.

Your cheek was flush against the pillow, ass as high as it would go, and your back arched. It was a sight to die for, as he would say.

You felt your wetness dripping down your thighs, as you sat there completely exposed as you waited for him to make a move. He finally did.

With a swift move of his hand, leaving your ass a bright shade of red, he then slid back into your wet pussy. One of his hands slid down your body to your hair, wrapping his hand in it before roughly thrusting his hips.

His balls smacked against your clit with each thrust, and the sound of your skin hitting against one each others flooded the room along with the both of your moans and groans. Drew finally pulled your body up by your hair, you both kneeling as he continued to thrust into you.

“You look so fucking good, (Y/n.)” He said in a dominant tone, seeing your makeup all messed around, your lips swollen.

His hand that wasn't wrapped in your hair moved to your throat, applying a small amount of pressure on the sides. His arm was between your breasts, causing him to smirk the whole time.

“You’re such a pretty little whore.” He moaned into your ear, as his cock began to rapidly hit your g-spot again.

A loud breathy moan left your mouth, causing your thighs to start to shake and toes to curl up, and him to realize how close the both of you were. His hand released its grip on your throat, and moved to your jaw as he wanted you to watch yourself finish and see how gorgeous you looked.

“Look in the mirror, I want you to see how gorgeous you look when you cum.” Drew moaned into your ear yet again, his hand that was in your hair now releasing it.

His hand dragged down his body, his hand still holding your jaw so you were still looking in the mirror. As his hand reached right above your core, he teased you momentarily by dragging his hand back up your stomach.

“Drew..” You whined needily, wanting your sweet release to come faster.

After hearing his name escape your lips, his hand instantly shot back down and he began to rub your clit with one of his calloused fingers.

As your legs began to shake yet again, your toes curl and your hands grip at his arms. Your hands consequently left a few scratches against his arm, nothing deep thankfully for him.

After a few more sharp thrusts from him, you were ready to cum. He wasn’t big on denying your orgasms, loving the look on your face as you cum and the blissful smile on your lips afterward but for once, you decided to ask.

“Fuck.. fuck.. Fuck. Drew, can I cum?” You moaned out needily, and felt him smirk against your skin.

“Cum for me.” He said simply.

Even though the words were so simple, and not even dirty you instantly felt the rubber band in your stomach snap. Loud moans began to leave your mouth in rapid succession. The feeling lasted longer than it normally would, but you were too deep in your state of bliss to realize.

Shortly after you finished, Drew had finished himself, giving you both a few moments to catch your breath before the both of you moved from one another. You laid back on the bed, legs spread as you waited for him to return with a damp washcloth as usual.

“Did you know you could squirt?” He asked with a smirk on his face, and it caused you to blush.

“I didn’t.” You said sheepishly, rather shocked.

As you felt the mixture of both of your cum drip down your pussy and thighs you tapped his arm gently, and he nodded instantly remembering what he forgot to do. He grabbed the camera, and brought it up to your pussy, to get a clip of the cum dripping out of you.

After he was content with the clip, he then turned the camera off and set it besides you, and brought a wet rag to you and began to wipe everything up, before sliding two of his fingers into you. He slid his fingers back out, before sliding them into your mouth, covered in the mixture of the both of your juices. You eagerly sucked on them, as he cleaned you up.

“How about round two?” He asked as you were still recovering, leaning down to press his lips to yours momentarily. You looked and felt so good.”

“Maybe in a bit..” You mumbled in reply, placing your lips back on top of his.

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey headcanon #drew starkey headcanons #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey smut #smut #obx smut #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine

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nerdzzone · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support.

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us.

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside.

Turning back to my car, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology. "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #once bitten twice shy

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official-weasley · 3 years ago

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Headcanon time (Part 4)

I can't believe I am back! I have been away for such a long time (almost 2 months since I posted any of my content I have been told) and I missed writing so much (even though it felt good to take a break too) so I decided to return with a Charlie HC since I love writing these and it's something lighter to come back with 💙

Nobody’s going to tell me that with the amount of knowledge Charles Weasley possessed about animals that he wasn’t invited to teach Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t something Charlie ever thought about doing – even though there were moments when he reached his fifties when he wondered what will he do if he ever gets too old for dragons. Just the thought sent shivers down his spine but he had to at least think of the possibility.

Charlie Weasley loved his job more than any of the Weasley siblings loved theirs. He was proud of every scar and bruise he had and he worked hard to get to where he is. He blew people in the Sanctuary away on the first day of him working there because they haven’t had such a talented lad in quite a while.

Everybody wanted him on his team and even though he was quite a popular sibling in the house he couldn’t deny that the amount of attention and praise he got from his co-workers felt nice.

He loved working in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary – so much so that when they offered him a job in both Chinese and Swedish Sanctuary he turned them down. Not that he didn’t like working with Chinese Fireballs but he liked his variety of dragons more – always said that it kept things interesting being surrounded by so many breeds.

With that being said he did not expect to get a letter one morning from his former Head of House (now Headmistress).

He stared at the closed envelope for a minute more than necessary and no matter how much he tried figuring out what she could possibly want from him he couldn’t and the curiosity got the better of him.

He breezed through the letter, his eyes stopping at the signature just for a moment before flicking back up to the beginning so he could read the letter – slower this time – as he couldn’t believe what he was reading.

Hagrid has taken his first proper vacation and they need someone to fill in for him for 2 weeks?

And out of all the amazing teachers and acquaintances the school had the Headmistress thought of him? But he only knows about dragons? Like REALLY knows. He is knowledgeable about every creature in the book but he isn’t confident about teaching about them.

He never taught anything in his life – maybe a newbie here and there but that’s different!

Charlie tossed the letter in a drawer in the hopes that he would remember to reply to Professor McGonagall in the morning and kindly decline her offer.

Of course, the opposite happened – he couldn’t sleep all night!

The question Charlie was puzzled with was why? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the offer he got? He loved his job. He loved his routine. He loved his peaceful life in nature surrounded by creatures he adored since he was a kid.

Why would he go to Hogwarts again? He had nice 7 years there – there was nothing to complain about – but he would be lying if he said that he missed the place. Being in his books most days he didn’t have that many friends and the ones he did have disappeared after the war or he lost contact with them so nothing was connecting him to the place.

Perhaps it’s a thrill of something new?

To do something else.

Or maybe to share his knowledge?

Charlie’s favorite professor was Silvanus Kettleburn and he will never forget him. He remembers when he asked Ron about him but Ron replied that Hagrid is teaching them instead. Charlie was intrigued and wished he had the time to attend one of Hagrid’s lectures – his little brother, however, wasn’t so impressed.

He loved to listen to Hagrid and only Bill knows that he was probably Charlie’s best friend while at school. If Hagrid went for a vacation and Charlie was the next best thing – he couldn’t even imagine what an honor that is.

Hagrid!

That’s it! He wants to take the job for Hagrid’s sake – so he can take a proper vacation!

Without thinking twice about it, Charlie stood up and replied to Professor McGonagall. It’s only for two weeks, how hard can it be?

Charlie decided to take the Hogwarts Express to the school – purely for nostalgia and definitely not because he doesn’t like apparition.

The second the train conductor told him that they will arrive in 10 minutes Charlie’s nerves started to kick in.

This was a mistake! Who was he kidding? He can’t be a professor. What if the students don’t listen to him? Or worse –what if they laugh at him or mock him?

The work in the Sanctuary might be difficult at times but at least everybody minded their own business and they never laughed in his face if he made a mistake. But these are students – teenagers – he can’t deal with teenagers, he doesn’t know how!

A carriage was waiting for him at the station and brought him to the castle where his former Head of House greeted him with one of her special smiles. He knew that she appreciated him coming on such short notice and that she couldn’t wait to see how Charlie will do.

She kept saying what a wonderful job he will do and how excited the students are for Hagrid’s temporal replacement and how happy she is that she got such an amazing person for the job.

He, however, couldn’t share her enthusiasm. Charlie didn’t see the qualities she saw in him and couldn’t imagine how could he – with zero experience – be a good teacher.

Charlie thought of expressing this concern but he liked McGonagall too much to wipe that soft smile off her face.

“Will I sleep in Hagrid’s hut?” Charlie asked as they were making their way to the part of the castle Charlie never managed to explore.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Weasley. You will be staying in the teacher’s quarters. You are getting a nice room with a fireplace and a living room.” McGonagall replied and pointed to the door ahead of them.

Charlie was appreciative of the room when he saw it but he couldn’t help but be a bit sad that he can’t stay at Hagrid’s. Charlie wasn’t big on socializing so staying away from other professors and away from the chatter of students in a small hut seemed like a dream.

It didn’t matter that he had a nice room or a very comfy bed. Charlie woke up feeling like a mummy. He couldn’t sleep at all, the nerves kicking in, and it was even worse when he remembered that he didn’t even have a syllabus or any idea what he is about to teach in his first class.

On Monday morning McGonagall calmed his nerves at breakfast and told him that she prepared a list of topics for every year so that he will feel more organized.

Year 3 – Porlocks

Year 4 – Werewolves

Year 5 – Pixies

Year 6 – Dragons

Year 7 – Demiguise

Charlie’s chest felt lighter when he realized that he knew loads of fun facts about all these creatures but he couldn’t help but be the most excited about teaching sixth years about dragons.

He had one hour before his first class to prepare an introduction for Pixies and then talk and teach about them for 2 hours. It seemed like an eternity to talk about a creature like that for 2 hours and since Charlie was never a smooth talker or good at making small talk he began to feel nervous again.

He tried to remember how he was like when he was in his fifth year but failed. He knew that he was nose deep in the books Kettleburn gave him about dragon care but he doesn’t remember much else than that.

Charlie’s legs have never felt so heavy walking down for his first class. He was seconds away from just giving up and going to tell McGonagall he can’t do this when one of the students called for him to wait up.

He stopped walking and turned around to see a girl running toward him. She introduced herself and started asking him questions about the creatures they are going to study. Without letting him answer her first question she bombarded him with the next one about the Dragon Sanctuary and then started to name every creature she is fond of.

This calmed Charlie’s nerves – knowing he had a student just like he was in his first class.

After his second class of the day, he couldn’t believe how amazing the students were. Charlie couldn’t recall his classmates being so interested in Care of Magical Creatures as he was but fourth and seventh-year students were more than happy to listen to him talk about werewolves and demiguise. They also asked loads of questions and didn’t complain at all when Charlie gave them a bunch of homework.

Waking up the next morning, he felt rather confident in his ability to teach. He had nothing but a pleasant experience so far. The professors and students have both been so nice and he couldn’t help but think that he overreacted. Being a professor wasn’t so bad and perhaps if the day comes when he won’t be able to handle dragons anymore he might apply to work here full time or if Hagrid will still work then at least as his assistant.

Charlie was on his way to the last class of his second day. He met every year students except the sixth years. He was walking down the path with a big smile on his face and his chest was filled with confidence – dragons – he has to talk about dragons!

“Good afternoon, students, my name is Charles Weasley and I am your substitute professor until Professor Hagrid returns. We are going to talk about dragons today. Can any of you name 5 breeds of dragons?”

“Aren’t you a Dragonologist, you name the breeds!” One of the students said after a few seconds of silence.

“I am and I know all the breeds that’s why I am asking you.” Charlie wanted to swallow thickly but he also didn’t want to appear weak in front of the first rude student he had.

“Seems to me that you’re avoiding the topic. Are you a fraud?” The student kept pushing.

Charlie couldn’t believe it. The class he was most excited about and it didn’t go well! He looked around, all eyes on him. He won’t let this student ruin this experience and the ability to learn about dragons from a real Dragonologist for everyone else!

“Fine,” he said softly. “Ask me anything you want to know and I will answer. If I get one question wrong you are free for the rest of the lesson. If I get all of them correct you will write a summary of every breed of dragon – half a parchment each – and get detention for talking back at me as you did. Does that seem fair?” Charlie wanted to smirk, a look of triumph on his face, but he had to stay professional.

After a minute of silence – half of the students looking at Charlie and half at the boy who dared to talk back at a professor – they bombarded him with questions.

Charlie answered every question correctly from how many known species there are to how long do the Antipodean Opaleye’s eggs need to hatch and without having to think for 2 seconds about the answer.

The students stared at Charlie in pure awe and admiration and he couldn’t help but notice that even the boy that tried so hard to bring him down on his second day of work looked impressed.

Charles Weasley left that class with his chin high up, feeling confident for his next day, happy and humbled that he took this opportunity and with a student put in detention.

Doing all that in one day, he was now even more sure that he could do this and even though he missed all his dragons back at home in Romania, he couldn’t help but admit that this was a rather nice pace and change of scenery from what he is used to and perhaps – somewhere in the distant future when he will lose a hand and a leg like Kettleburn – he might see himself working like this every single day.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley headcanon

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bruhlsbees · 4 years ago

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sweet disposition: 1/? || femaleprofessor!reader x modern!alex kerner

hi bestie hehe i’d like to request a little series for you, sub! a little jealous modern alex keener (of age) x professor! f reader (late 20’s) - shes an english romantic lit professor & her “love interest” is a film professor who is one of alex’s shared teacher. alex has a little crush on her, and knows the film teacher is after her. super fluffy, smut maybe??? u decide baby, im just so excited eeeeek!!!

summary: alex kerner is a senior film student and develops a crush for his friend, denis, english professor

pairing: modern!alex kerner and professor!reader

warnings: age gap (alex is 22 and reader is 32), wet dream, sweet sweet pathetic boy, nsfw, 18+, minors dni

word count: 4,387

a/n: thank you for the request @gotmadison ily sweet gal!! this will be a short fic series i write and will post probably throughout the coming weekend! :) please enjoy and if you have any requests or asks please send them in!!!

For Alex Kerner, a senior film student, nothing bored him more than the first day of a new unit. He knew what to expect - twenty plus slides about some dead, or borderline dead, director while connecting their life to the style of films they did and how it related to whatever political controversy was going down at the time. Alex knew that there was a reason for going into so much history to better understand the meaning of the films, but jesus did it have to drag for so long?

The auditorium that Alex’s class was held in was larger, although the class was rather small. There were maybe, at most, thirty students in his class, including him, which felt empty as the auditorium they were in was meant to hold almost double that. Alex didn’t mind though, of all the rows, he was the only one in the back, taking the middle seat - of course, the best view to see a film. He recognized a lot of the faces in his class, as it was a senior level class, but he didn’t bother to converse with many.

It wasn’t that he was shy, not overly at least, he just didn’t care to make friends. It was an afternoon class, he was just getting out of work to rush to his class, and far too exhausted to try and fake being friendly…hence him sitting in the back, all alone.

The ‘Authorship in Cinema’ course he was currently in was held twice a week - both two hours long. The first class of the week was held for lectures and the second class was held for the film screening. The university was just getting back from winter break, continuing into the last half of the semester. In Alex’s class they had finished their unit on Roman Polanski before the break and they came into the next covering Krzysztof Kieślowski. Alex was thrilled to say the least about not having to listen to his film professor rave on Polanski. Even after discussing Polanski’s case, his professor still seemed to idolize the man.

Alex was not fond of his film professor. He was a younger professor, maybe in his late thirties, early forties, and he seemed to praise the worst directors he could find. His name was Jaxon Thorne and was the staple image of a douche. He always wore faded jeans that were tight in the crotch, scuffed up sneakers that he always tried to pass as being cool, and a sweater with a scarf - even though they were inside. He truly didn’t get how girls liked the man. Alex wouldn’t lie though, some of his opinions were interesting, but the guy loved to hear himself talk, that much was obvious.

They weren’t even at the tenth slide yet when Alex felt himself beginning to doze off. Work had been busy today, fixing satellites and dealing with prissy wives and their drunk husbands. He was almost late getting to class with all the traffic that was on the highway. The last thing he wanted to do was attend class. It took everything in him not to put his head down and go to sleep right there. He had done it before, and that was a mistake he would never make again. Waking up to everyone staring and snickering while the teacher was hovering over you meant for a lasting effect.

But Alex just couldn’t take it, he was so bored with Kieślowski’s early work. The documentaries of everyday lives for city dwellers, workers, and soldiers could not keep his attention even if he wasn’t tired. He sunk down into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, before craning his head to the side on his shoulder. His blinking became slow, desperately trying to stay awake and pay attention, but his eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, his mouth was gaped open, drool slipping out of the corner of his lips.

He didn’t know how long he had dozed off for, but when he woke up he heard the projector screen zip up and the lights click on. Jumping slightly, Alex sat back up, feeling the stickiness of his drool on his face. With a groan, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jean jacket before beginning to pack his things up into his bag.

“On Wednesday we will dive into his documentary, Workers, and discuss the censorship aspect of it. Come prepared to watch the screening and discuss afterwards. If anyone has any questions or comments, I’ll be staying after for a few minutes.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex pushed himself out of his chair, swinging his bag over his shoulder before rushing out the back door at the top of the auditorium. He couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough to avoid his teacher from going off on an ‘intellectual conversation’ on their new unit. Barf.

Alex was happy though to finally be out of class and to enjoy his hour and a half break before his next class. He knew he should have been finalizing what project he wanted to submit for critique in his senior portfolio, but he needed something to wake him up.

As he turned the hallway, going to leave the building, he stopped by the vending machine and pulled out a crinkled bill from his pocket, pushing it into the machine before pressing the buttons to get a bottle of Coke. To his luck, however, the machine stalled, the bottle retriever getting stuck in front of the row and producing an obnoxious ‘whirring’ noise.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Gripping the side of the vending machine, Alex shook the machine roughly, rocking the broken vending machine back and forth until setting it back, sending a punch to the front of it.

“Woah, woah! Jesus man what did that vending machine do to you?”

Turning his head, Alex’s glare softened at the sight of his friend, Denis, approaching him. Denis, with his books still in his hands, tucked them under his arm as he stood in front of the machine, watching as the machine stalled with Alex’s bottle of Coke.

“The stupid thing got stuck! Is it too much to ask for a bottle of co-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the machine began to work again, grabbing the bottle and dispensing it below. Staring blankly at the bottom, his lips pulled into a tight line, Alex could only feel the embarrassment settling in - and it didn’t help to hear Denis laugh at how ridiculous he reacted.

“Oh my god, dude, you seriously need to take it easy. Did work kill you that bad?” Denis asked, watching as Alex bent down to pull out the bottle, standing back up as he began unscrewing the cap, guzzling the pop down.

Nodding his head, Alex screwed the cap back on before tucking the bottle in his bag, hiccuping at the carbonation before sighing, “Yeah, and it doesn’t help that I gotta go to Professor Dick’s class right after.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Denis nodded, listening to Alex as he vented, “Yeah, Thorne’s a real piece of work. But hey! Only gotta deal with him for another semester after this. Who knows, maybe he will knock a student up and ditch down?”

The fantasy would have been nice to come true, but Alex knew that it would stay just that - a fantasy. Thorne was a questionable guy, with interesting ideas and made borderline inappropriate comments towards the female students in all his classes…but that was just it, he could charm anyone he wanted, and that’s how he stayed around.

“Yeah, maybe when dogs walk on two legs…” Alex mumbled, pressing his knuckles to his eyes and rubbing the sleep out of them, a yawn escaping his lips.

As he dropped his hands down to his side, he felt Denis nudge him in the arm, groaning at the contact as he was too tired to have any contact, “You got class at seven right?”

Nodding, Alex blinked, a tired smile on his face as he smacked his lips, “Yeah…seven to nine, best time of day to have a senior portfolio workshop.”

Denis laughed at the sarcastic comment, mentioning that it could’ve been worse and be at seven in the morning than at night. Alex, however, couldn’t see how anything could be worse than an evening class after a long day of work.

“Listen, I got my ‘Romanticism in Literature’ class in a few…why don’t you come with me? My teacher’s pretty cool and I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit in. I’m in the back anyways so she probably won’t even realize. She’s got pretty bad vision I’ve realized. I think she said that her glasses don’t got the right prescription or somethin. She’s always runnin late and claims she never has time to put her contacts in.”

The detailed explanation of the professor’s vision made Alex laugh, shaking his head as Denis looked at him confused, cheeks red, “What? It’s what she’s told us! She’s always coming in late. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came in late this time around. She’s got office hours before class, so she probably gets held up with a student.”

“Sounds like you’re in love with her, is that right, Denny Boy? Someone’s gotta crush on the teacher? Ain’t that every high school kid’s fantasy? Get the hots for the teacher?”

Scoffing, Denis rolled his eyes at Alex’s teasing and shoved him in the arm, “No man, come on now, it ain’t like that. Look if you don’t wanna come I don’t care, but I gotta go before I’m late.”

Holding his hands up in defense, Alex trailed behind Denis, going back in the direction he originally came from, “Hey, hey, I was only kidding, don’t gotta get defensive. I’ll take along, hopefully I won’t fall asleep in this class. Why you even taking this class anyways?”

Following Denis into the class, the auditorium setup similar to the one he just came out of, except smaller, Alex sat beside Denis in the back row, watching as the class filled up, only a few seats not filled.

“I guess I gotta earn some more credits outside my degree, this was the only one that wasn’t completely filled up yet and it worked with my schedule. It ain’t too bad, she gives us a lot of free time to work.”

Watching as Denis set his bag down beside him, opening his textbook to where they left off the other day, Alex watched Denis prep for the class, the teacher not in sight. Alex figured that the teacher must have been running late, like Denis said she always did, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d be before she even showed up.

Fifteen minutes after class was supposed to begin the front door ripped open, slamming shut seconds after while heels frantically clicked towards the desk in the front of class.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up with another professor. I hope you all enjoyed your winter breaks and are happy to be back. I know I’m thrilled to be back!”

The sweet voice caught Alex’s attention, his eyes pulling from his cell phone and to the front of the class where the professor had just walked in. He felt his mouth fall open slightly, catching it before Denis noticed his reaction.

He was expecting an old lady for Denis’ class, someone who was on the edge of death and smelled of cats. What he found, however, was someone the complete opposite. Younger, curvier, and the scent that filled the room when she entered was warm - like she just finished drinking a cup of coffee.

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, bangs hanging low over her eyes, covering the tops of her crooked frames. She couldn’t have been all that older than him, maybe mid-thirties at max. He didn’t notice what she was wearing below, but the shirt she wore clung to her so well, the outline of her fuller chest displayed with her necklace dipping into her cleavage.

‘Good God, Alex, get a hold of yourself.’

Alex watched the professor, noticing her speaking although his lusted thoughts deafened his ears. He assumed she was asking how the break went and if anyone did anything fun because a few people raised their hands, a kind smile on her face as she listened to her students.

“That’s great to hear, Polly! You’ll have to show me the photos you took sometime. I have never been to that side of the country before,” Her head shifted towards the other side of the room, looking up at the higher rows. “Did anyone else have anything to share about their break?”

Denis’ professor sat patiently and listened to everyone who wanted to share, giving everyone the opportunity to discuss their breaks before she opened up her laptop to get started with class. Alex watched as she picked up the remote and pointed it to the projector box, the screen coming down beside her with her computer screen displayed.

Her home screen featured what he assumed to be her and some friends. He recognized a few of the people in the photo as they were also professors at the university - what made Alex turn his nose, however, was right beside her - in all his douchebag glory, Jaxon Thorne. Before he could make a cohesive thought, the photo went away and a slideshow on Mary Shelley appeared…and maybe for the better.

“Okay everyone! As mentioned in the email, we are gonna be diving into Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein for this part of the semester,” She began, her warm smile still ignited, chuckling lightly as some of the students up front became uneasy in their seats, excited for the novel, “I’m glad to hear we have some fans. Now, I promised that I wouldn’t give you any reading over break, but because of that we will be reading quite a bit over the next few weeks.”

The slide shifted to the reading guide and what chapters were due when. Alex watched as some students scribbled the due dates down while others pulled out their cell phones, snapping a photo before stuffing their phones away.

“For Wednesday I would like you all to have read the preface and letters one through four. Come prepared to discuss your analyses of the text and any questions you may have. Of course, I’ll have my office hours open tomorrow and Wednesday before class, but if there are any questions, you can send me an email and I’ll try to get back with you in a timely manner.”

The rest of class seemed to lull by, Alex’s gaze fixed on the professor that continued to go over what the last half of the semester would look like, answering the occasional question, before finally it was time to pack up and go. Frowning, Alex shifted in his seat, looking at Denis who was packing things up in his bag.

“It’s over?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed, a pathetic frown on his face.

Looking up from his bag, Denis smiled, nodding, “Yeah man, it is. Why? You fall in love with Mary Shelley?” Standing up, Denis pushed his seat under the table and shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, if it works for your schedule and you’re interested, maybe go up and ask if you can enroll. I don’t know if you’ll be able to with it being so late in the semester, but it’s worth a shot,” Glancing down at his watch, Denis sighed, “Look, I gotta run, but let me know how it goes, okay?” Patting Alex’s back, Denis rushed up the stairs and out the back door, fleeing the auditorium to get to his next class on time.

Meanwhile, Alex kept seated, watching as the professor talked with some students who approached her desk after class, laughing and admiring the editions of Frankenstein that students presented. Was this how professors could be with their students? Actually caring and involved? It seemed like Alex had poor luck with his own professors - either they were old as a bat and didn’t know how to work the computer, or they were a presumptuous dick.

When the students began to flock out, already discussing how they were looking forward to Wednesday’s class, Alex finally stood up, pulling his bag over his shoulder and making his way down the auditorium steps. She hadn’t noticed him as he walked, writing something down in her planner. As he stood now in front of her, he cleared his throat awkwardly, gaining her attention as she looked up, squinting before taking her glasses off.

“Hello,” he began shyly, adjusting the strap of his bag, “I’m Alex. My friend, Denis, he’s in your class.”

At the mention of Denis, she smiled and nodded, “Yes! Denis, nice boy he is,” She adjusted her position in her seat, leaning back slightly, “I-I’m sorry, are you in my class? I don’t believe I’ve ever see-”

“No! I mean, no, no I’m not in your class. I have a free hour before my next class and Denis invited me to sit in for this one,” He rushed, cheeks red as he realized how abruptly he had interrupted her, “I’m sorry, um, yeah I just came down because I really enjoyed your lecture today. I was curious if there was any way I could maybe enroll? I know it’s late in the semester, but I did enjoy today.”

The cheeky smile faded into a sadder, smaller smile. She chewed on her bottom lip before leaning forward again, crossing her arms over chest, accentuating her cleavage that Alex desperately tried not to stare at.

“Oh, I’m sorry Alex, but I don’t think I can convince the department to let you in this late in the semester. I love your enthusiasm with the course and would love to have you in my class, but I don’t think I can make that happen.” Her smile dropped to a frown when she saw the visible disappointment in Alex’s face before bending over to open her bag, pulling out a copy of Frankenstein, handing it to Alex.

Looking down at the copy, Alex opened the cover, reading what he assumed to be her name in the cover, before flipping through the pages, a weak smile on his face, trying his best to not look so pathetic in front of her.

“How about this? I probably shouldn’t, but if you want to sit in on the days you’re free, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll forward you the reading guide so you can keep up with us, but you won’t earn any credit in this class. Is that okay?”

His frown turned into a grin, looking up from the book, Alex nodded, his cheeks pink as his toothy crooked grin spread across his face, “Yeah, yes. Thank you,” Tugging down the front of his striped blue shirt, he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the book before back up at her, “Um, so when are your office hours? Just in case I have any questions?”

Letting out a faint ‘ah’, she opened her notebook and scribbled some notes down, tearing off the paper and handing it to Alex, “You’re more than welcome to shoot me an email though if you need help outside of my office hours. Or you can call my office number, sometimes I answer it.” She admitted, her own cheeks going pink at the confession.

Smiling, Alex looked down at the paper and made a mental note to remember all that she had given him.

My email,

My office number,

Office hours are M&W: 3-5:15 and T&R: 1-2

Class takes place on M&W from 5:30-6:30

The smile she left on the page made Alex’s stomach flutter. His thumb ran along the smiley face before he looked up, thanking her quietly for the note. She was sweet, almost too sweet for Alex to absorb, like he was in a sugar coma and begging for more.

“Of course, it was nice to meet you Alex. I’m looking forward to seeing you in class. I don’t mean to run off, but I’m to meet another professor here in a couple minutes and don’t need to be lectured on being late.”

When she stood up, Alex’s face went hot. The flowy flower blouse that showed more cleavage than he had seen on a professor before was tucked into a tight jean skirt, clinging to her hips in all the right places, a thick black belt holding it all together. If it weren’t for the fact that he was right in front of her, he probably would have started drooling.

Packing up her desk, she stuffed her things in her bag, throwing her sweater over her shoulder before throwing her bag around her, moving around the desk to stand beside it now, looking up at Alex. He noted how she was shorter, the heels helping her with height, and how good her legs looked in them. Clearing his throat, he shifted his bag around him to sit in front of his pants, attempting to hide any possible pop-up in his jeans.

“If you’re free tomorrow, stop by my office hours. I’ll even buy you a coffee if it’s too early for you. I know you college boys stay up far too late. I can only imagine what your mothers think.” She teased, shaking her head and she turned and began to head out of the room, hearing Alex keep tight on her trail.

Turning off the lights and letting him leave first, she shut the door behind her and stood beside Alex, motioning towards the English department office, “I’ll see you tomorrow, or Wednesday, my office is the last one on the right. I’ll be sure to leave my door open!”

Nodding, Alex smiled and waved goodbye as she waved back, rushing down the hall and weaving through the students to get into the office. Letting out a sigh, Alex leaned against the doorway, processing his first encounter with the professor, the boyish lust grin stuck on his face.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Panting hard, Alex gripped her hips tight, his fingers digging into her plush figure, grunting as he snapped his hips into her from behind, her pillowed ass meeting him with each thrust. The sweat that built up on him was beginning to fall down face, trailing down his neck and chest.

Tangling his right hand into her hair, his left still placed on her hips, Alex pulled her locks gently, smiling at the sound of her wanton moan, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“A-Alex! Oh god, Alex, I don’t think I’m going to last. F-Fuck!”

Feeling his own climax build, Alex let out a shaky breath as he bent down craning his neck to kiss her lips as he continued to rut inside of her, his thrusts becoming sloppy and quicker.

The sensation became too much too quickly, his legs shaking as he kneeled behind her befo-

Jolting awake, the obnoxious phone alarm woke Alex from his dream, resulting in a now completely frustrated mood. While still on his back, Alex reached behind him on the shelf that rested behind his bed frame, pulling his phone up and looking at the screen, squinting to gain his vision from waking up, the bright screen burning his eyes.

When he unlocked his phone and opened it, prompting him to his email, his frown lit up and turned into a smile, seeing her name in his inbox.

Good evening, Alex!

I’m sorry this is so late, I’m finally getting back to my apartment and wanted to send this your way before I forgot. Here is the reading guide for the rest of the semester and that information I shared with you earlier in case you lost it.

I look forward to seeing you in my office tomorrow or Wednesday. I hope you have a good night! :)

Best!

Alex’s mood quickly shifted after reading the email. While he was disappointed that the wet dream he was having with her ended so soon, he was more than pleased to see that he had an email from her. Clicking his phone off, Alex tossed his phone onto his bed, sitting up with his hand behind him to keep him up.

His room illuminated a red/orange hue from the lava lamp that sat on his dresser in the corner of his room. Turning his attention towards the window, he looked behind the blinds to see the city life outside his apartment lit up, the sound of music coming from the club down the road and laughs from those partying.

Letting out a yawn, Alex shook his head and rubbed his face, shifting his legs before stopping quickly, feeling the mess in his boxers. Looking down, Alex groaned seeing the stain in his boxers, pressing his hand to feel the wet spot before sighing, standing up. He pulled his boxers carefully off, tossing them into his laundry basket before making his way into the bathroom to clean up.

When he entered the small bathroom that was connected to his room, he hissed at the bright light as it came on, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was tangled up, sticking out on the sides and his eyes were squinted, too tired to open them fully. Shaking his head, Alex climbed into the shower and started the water, the cold water hitting him both waking him up and cooling himself down.

He was absolutely and pathetically smitten over her. There was no doubt about it. Since leaving her class, the only thoughts that occupied his mind were of her. He had already planned out what he would wear tomorrow when he went to her office hours. It was pathetic, truly, with how quickly he was letting the woman ruin him. It was ridiculous to say, no doubt, because what would happen between them? Nothing. Not a single thing would come between the two other than a conversation about Frankenstein, maybe a personal question here and there.

Or so he thought.

#submissions #submission #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #daniel brühl imagine #daniel bruhl imagine #goodbye lenin #good bye lenin #alex kerner #alex kerner imagine #alex kerner smut #alex kerner x reader #au #college au #modern au #sweet disposition

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embrassemoi · 4 years ago

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 20

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors A/N: Some ppl asked for a playlist... so ofc I made one!

Series Playlist or Chap 20 Playlist

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 20: Little Lion Man

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When Regulus was younger, his aunt Andromeda and Sirius were obsessed with Muggle stories. Andromeda would send them loads of books every month to the local Muggle post office to prevent their parents from confiscating them. He remembers the ten minute walks there and back, Sirius holding his hand tight, even stopping to buy ice cream during the warmer seasons. They would greet the delivery men and women, picking up a heavy stack of wrapped books before waddling out, each boy mirroring a large grin.

Every night at twilight, when their parents were asleep, Sirius would crawl into his bed and read to Regulus in a hushed voice. He would read a different story every night, lulling him to sleep. Sirius spent hours gushing about the fantastical tales Muggles wrote; how magical and mystical their minds were despite not having an ounce of magical blood. From Superman to Batman, the Joker to Daleks, Prince Caspian to King Miraz; Regulus quickly learned that they all had one common theme: the good guys and the bad guys.

Regulus often spent his time grappling with the notion; what made someone good? Because the definition changes depending on the person.

Were the good guys good because they were selfless — passionate? Those deemed good never let themselves be seen as selfish. The heroes would sacrifice themselves for the greater good, even going as far as giving up their loved ones. Or maybe it was because they went against the odds. But villains did that too.

So he re-worded the question; what made someone bad? Was it their selfishness or greed? Was it putting themselves above others? Did they know they were on the wrong side of history? Make a mistake, once, twice — but surely, that didn’t make someone bad. Did it?

If virtue is understood by both sides, then the bad guys would immediately cross that line time and time again. They lacked wisdom and truthfulness, filled with too much pride and vanity.

But now as he began to grow up far too quickly for a fourteen-year-old boy, he realized that there was more to people than just being good or evil, a saviour or tormentor, light versus darkness.

The definition of good and bad depended on who told the story and Regulus didn’t know who controlled his; him or his parents. The line was so blurred that he couldn’t objectively make the decision himself anymore. Was he more bad than good?

Laughter — rich and inviting beckoned throughout the library, snapping him out of his thoughts again; but it did nothing but chip away at his heart. Regulus got up, shoving his books and parchment into his bag, making sure to hide his face before they saw him. Today, the Marauders had come earlier than expected and he was caught off guard. He’d been doing everything to avoid them out of pure shame.

Before he went to turn, he eyed Sirius from the shadows. He smiled, carefree and happy, clinging onto Pettigrew, ruffling his hair like he once did to him.

What made them so special, so loved and cherished by Sirius? How were they able to make him laugh so effortlessly, able to brighten his day with a mere glance? What made them more of a family than he ever was to him?

But he knew, it was their family’s values and it had been taunting him every waking moment.

It’s not like he didn’t want to escape that night, but he wasn’t Sirius. He was never as bright or strong or as good as him. Sirius was bold and courageous and certainly had more bravery than he would ever have. Regulus was far too weak, a puppet for his parents to control. Sirius was everything Regulus was too afraid to be — a reminder of what he could have turned into.

Besides, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that his parents would have killed Kreacher had he left. And this way with Sirius gone, it left Regulus to be the sole heir. Sirius was free, not being hunted down by his parents now that he bore the title. That was his gift to him, freeing Sirius of all the responsibilities, pain and grief. He owed him that much. Besides, Regulus had already mourned the childhood he never had; that made everything easier.

The day Sirius left was the day before they were set to leave for Hogwarts again and the impact of his absence was massive. He no longer heard the thumping of loud Muggle music nor the clanking of piano keys or doors slamming shut. There wasn’t any screaming aside from his parents shrieking at him for taking his father's wand. The stairs creaked; he could even hear Kreacher padding his way to his room.

It was eerily quiet and lifeless in that damned house, and he was only gone for a day.

Regulus hadn’t been taking it well. Nearly every night, his face was pressed into a pillow muffling his sobs. Sirius had kept his promise, he hadn’t talked to him since.

If only he had a scarlet tie…

Ha! He could laugh; he’d been trying to get his attention in little ways. He’d even gone as far as growing out his hair to match his — coping by writing letters every night with words he wished he could’ve said before storing them in a box under his bed. Forever unsent. Hell, Regulus was a coward, every bit as pathetic as Sirius deemed.

Ever the winter break, his parents were relentless, dumping everything that was meant for Sirius onto him. Letters were sent daily; there were talks about an arranged marriage, lumps of money now being transferred under his name, getting the dark mark… and he was being watched. Every interaction he had, his parents always knew. Especially with Muggleborns; he had to limit his interactions with them to almost nothing, or it wouldn’t end well for either.

His mind reeled back to that night, where his parents and extended family toyed with that blonde Muggle, leaving her half-dead on the dining table, the image branded in his head. It made him sick just thinking about it, he never knew what happened to her, he was too busy trying to muffle out her screams.

Regulus had been questioning everything he was taught. Sirius’ words echoed in his head; was he willing to kill Muggleborns solely because of their blood status? He's a believer in old values and traditions: yes, blood should be kept pure, but to kill Muggles… that was completely different. He’d seen how his dearly beloved aunt was burned off the tapestry, threatened and almost killed for marrying a Muggleborn — a Muggleborn who he’s met and liked and respected. His family tortured them for the sake of it and more. That wasn’t the move of someone good, those were the actions of someone evil; filled with greed, spite and selfishness. But how was he going to stop a whole bloodline from their mania?

Some may call it obedience, the way he’s listened to his parents all these years blindly, but to him, it’s respect. But did he believe that? Did they deserve to be respected? He was miserable and this wasn’t a healthy way to show filial piety.

What did he believe in?

Perhaps there wasn’t such a thing, good or evil, maybe there was only power.

Regulus was lost and confused and most of all, lonely. He remembered Sirius promised him once, before the day he was set to leave for Hogwarts for the first time, that he would never be alone. What a funny thing, promises.

Tears were forming fast and if he didn’t leave then, they would fall any second now. He needed to get out of the library.

Regulus asked himself again; what made someone good or bad — or rather, was he good or bad? He’s veering towards bad.

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After catching word from Mary that Remus’ birthday was approaching, Y/N had been knitting him a sweater in her spare time (or trying to). It was sweet, simple and showed that she’d put effort into it, especially since he taught her. Although, the sweater was lopsided and she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of a certain stitch or how to close sections. Perhaps she should use magic.

Her fingers fiddled with the needle, looping the yarn over the other side. Without looking up, she made a sharp turn into the library before crashing into a hunched-over figure; sniffling and a complete mess.

An apology dangled from her lips before recognizing the figure as Regulus. It had been two months since she’d last seen him and in short, he looked like shit. His skin was grey and lost all sense of a youthful dewy glow. If Sirius had dark eye circles or Remus looked tired, Regulus beat them by miles.

Y/N stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do before gently patting his shoulder. “Regulus?” She asked softly, nothing more than a whisper.

There was a flash of pure terror as he looked up, his eyes nervous as his head spun around to look around the place like he always did. He looked mad, almost unhinged as his hands gently pushed her away, signalling for her to leave. “I — I can’t be seen around you.”

“Can’t? What are you going on abo —” She cut herself off, ignoring the matter entirely. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset.

His voice was strained, quiet as he kept on murmuring, he almost sounded angry. “You can’t — we’ll both get in trouble. Y/N, go — please… ”

At this, Y/N felt her skin rise in small goosebumps. She looked back to the library, just making out her friend’s figures before looking down at Regulus again. She wasn’t going to leave him like this: crying and delusional.

She took a deep inhale before bending down, picking up her needles and yarn off the ground and slipped them into her bag. She placed a cautious arm around Regulus to keep him upright. “Come with me.” But Regulus wouldn’t budge, not until she flicked down her hood, obscuring her face.

She led him up to the astronomy tower, walking and twisting around before setting him down on a nearby bench, making sure to lock any entrances. They sat in silence, aside from Regulus attempting to regulate his breathing. The cold whipping wind tossed his hair and sank into her bones. With a few charms, they were both warm again, but still able to breathe in the crisp air.

He remained quiet. Y/N didn’t push. Instead, she began babbling softly about random things to distract him. When she heard a sharp exhale of air, mimicking a half-hearted chuckle was when she knew he had calmed down.

“Thank you,” he muttered. It’s quiet, barely above a whisper. Regulus’ cheeks were pink, colour finally returning to him from either embarrassment or the cold.

“Any time,” she smiled warmly. Her hand reaches into her bag, fishing out the snacks that were meant for the study group: blackberries that were for Remus, a muffin for Marlene, were now shared between them. She tried to encourage him to eat, to regain any sort of energy.

He listened without complaint, a tense yet thankful air engulfed them. It was only until he finished the food, about an hour gone by, was when he spoke again. “Why are you being so nice to me.” It’s not even a question, just an odd accusation.

She thinks for a while, searching for the best answer. “I wished someone was there for me when I was going through a hard time.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Well, let’s get to know each other then. I’ll tell you something about myself and then you can go?”

Regulus looked up at her with a calculated expression, cautious and looked uncomfortable but he nodded.

“Let’s start simple. I have an owl named Celeste.”

He gulped, looking back to the entrance. His answer came delayed, strained and she wondered if she had pushed him too far. “I play the violin.”

Y/N smiled largely. “The violin is beautiful! Hmm… I can’t ride a broomstick to save my life, unlike you.”

At this, he smiles — a real genuine smile that causes his eyes to crinkle and sparkle. “Really?” His eyes burned with curiosity before he looked down, “I can’t swim.”

“Swim?” She repeats, chuckling to herself, “Who doesn’t know how to swim?”

“You’re making me feel grand. Terribly uncalled for.”

Her eyes rolled, “You should learn. It can save your life one day. Who wants to drown?”

“Maybe I’ll ask McGonagall — I heard for tougher punishments she’ll throw you into the black lake.”

“You’re the perfect candidate then.”

After a while, way past curfew, Regulus seemed cheerier; his tear-stained cheeks now replaced with a smile and relaxation. That day, Y/N unaware, was a day Regulus would never forget.

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March 8th, 1976

“Sirius, shut up.”

“You’re the one yelling!”

“... Right.”

Excused from their afternoon classes because their Puffskein was about to hatch, the Marauder’s dorm was bustling with panic and bickering. When Y/N partnered with Sirius for their project, she expected fighting (which happened every day) but not for Sirius to be like this. He’d been running around the dorm, grabbing warm towels, bowls of water and taking out his panic on her. He gripped his textbook, flicking through notes to see if they had everything. It was as if he was preparing for the birth of an actual baby.

She silently watched him, her mind thinking about Regulus rather than their project. This was the only time she and Sirius were alone and wondered if she should mention his freakout the other day but stopped — it didn’t take a genius to know they weren’t on friendly terms.

Since that night, she’d seen Regulus almost daily, but only at night before their study group. She would spend an hour or so with him before the Marauder or girls came barraging in; Regulus left before they appeared. The entire situation left her deeply confused, worried and most of all, suspicious.

“We need Kettleburn —”

Annoyance began nipping at her. “Calm down.”

“I’m not going to calm down!”

Sirius paced, both firing snide jabs. Too preoccupied in his panicked state, he didn’t hear the quiet cracking of the white shell, forming the shape of a lightning bolt before cascading over.

“Um, Black?”

“Let’s not start. How are you so —”

“Get your ass over here now!”

Sirius pressed his lips together immediately and rushed over, both huddled side by side near the roaring fireplace. The shell twitched, cracking more and they both gasped in amazement. The process was faster than either expected as they saw the small tuft of cream fur peek out along with a pair of black eyes. Its long pink tongue slipped out, already looking for its first meal. Y/N scrambled to grab a nearby dish of dried spiders to feed it while Sirius cradled it in his hand. His smile was wide, buzzing with excitement as he observed it. His hands gently glided over the soft fur as it emitted a low humming sound.

A deep chuckle erupts from Sirius and she could feel the vibrations from how close they were. His laugh, which once made her cringe, now made her skin feel fuzzy and heart flutter. But, it wasn’t like that, she thinks. Of course not! She still wants to jinx him, maybe even throw him into the fireplace. Yes, that’s it.

She snaps out of her violent thoughts when she finds Sirius already looking at her, a pretty flush to his skin as he observes her softly. Her brows crinkled; instead of a frown or on the cusp on an insult, he smiles.

“Do you want to hold it?” Y/N nods eagerly. Sirius shifts his body, placing the Puffskein in the palms of her hands. It’s incredibly soft, adorable and when it leans into her, falling asleep, she swore she fell in love.

“What do you want to name it?” She mumbled, afraid that if she were any louder it might wake it up. Sirius takes a long time to ponder and Y/N braces herself for an insult, already thinking of a plethora of her own.

“It looks like porridge… Oatmeal!”

“Are you serious?”

“I’d be worried if I wasn’t.”

Y/N tries to suppress her smile but fails. The Puffskein did look like a grain of oatmeal. Plain and simple, she liked it.

“Hello, Oats! You’re so cute — I could just eat you up!”

“Morbid much.”

Hours went by before they ultimately decided to head down to Kettleburn’s office for an examination of Oats’ health. Sirius cradled it in a small blanket, shielding it from the rest of the world. Marlene and Dorcas were standing by the sidelines, joining them as they walked past.

“Yours hatched already? Aw, it looks so cute!” Dorcas squealed. Her hands reached out, giddy as Sirius gently placed it into her arms but not without fretting. Marlene only looked down at her with a soft gaze, her face becoming pink as she wrapped an arm around her.

“Give it a rest. She’s not going to drop it.”

“Now you, McKinnon?! I’m a father now! Our kid deserves the best care! Right, L/N?”

It catches her off guard. Sirius trying to include her in a conversation? That’s a new milestone. “Of course; the proudest parents.”

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Once done with Kettleburn, Sirius went to bring Oats back to his dorm, parting as Y/N went to find Lily who took her notes for her afternoon classes.

Out in the courtyard, walking around in the snow, both Lily and Snape wandered around before she picked up a snowball, throwing it at him. Snape sent her a deadpanned look as Lily kept hurling snowballs. Most missed him, others hit him before he retaliated and threw some back.

Y/N halted, watching the scene play out and debated whether or not to approach them. But decided to, shouting while striding up to them.

“Petals!”

Lily’s smile grew before her head whipped to her. She stopped her snowball fight, getting up to bounce her way over to her. Snape followed in suit, but as Lily began to babble on and on about what she missed, Snape’s eyes bore into her, vice versa.

“I’ll see you later, Sevy! We need to go,” said Lily, already turning to walk away. Y/N lingered back a pause, just enough to see Snape draw his wand and shoot a spell at her. She had just enough time to block it. Whatever spell it was, it sparkled like a firecracker. If Snape could easily send a hex or jinx her way inboard daylight with Lily just a little ahead, what was he willing to do had they been alone.

His angel persona around her was dropping quickly.

“Whiskers!” Shouted Lily. Her arms raised in question. “Get over here!”

A flurry of thoughts bombarded her before she could process them. She was about to cause a scene, yell and scream until that nasty sneer fell off his face until she felt a tug on her arm. Lily hooked her arm around Y/N, pulling her away. But she still had her wand drawn, ready to block another spell. She tossed one last look at him; he smiled wickedly.

“Are you okay?”

She had enough tip-toeing around Snape. She remained tranquil, gave him the benefit of the doubt and respected their friendship but that was enough.

“No, I’m not actually,” keeping her tone as soft as possible, trying not to sound defensive, “Why do you waste your time around him?”

Lily paused, her eyes going wide. An offended expression crossed her face as she took a moment to digest the remark. “Sev? What are you getting at?” Her tone was guarded which had Y/N debating whether or not to drop the conversation entirely. A fight with Lily was not on her to-do list.

“I just think you should be careful around him.”

“I can look out for myself,” she grumbled, “Severus has been there for me for years. I know how to separate myself from the wrong sorts.”

“I’m only saying this to look out for —”

“I know, but he isn’t like what you’re thinking.” Lily didn’t look mad, just tired as she nodded sharply. Taking a stack of parchment from her bag, Lily handed it to her and walked faster. “You’re around Potter too much. He isn’t like what he says he is.”

Y/N felt annoyance blossom in her chest at the accusation of James but bit her tongue to avoid more conflict. Right now, they trod on dangerous waters.

Neither spoke to each other for the rest of the day.

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