#I need one of those nice headphone stands…
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2025 is the year I upgrade my battle station (desk setup)
#using this term very loosely cause I’m a laptop user LOL#I just want a nice neat desk with nice things#I need one of those nice headphone stands…#and this paw cushion for desk chairs that ann showed me#open to suggestions for other things people use on their desks…#my mouse is so fucked rn too I need a new one immediately
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harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned
word count: 5896
a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜
+
Y/N was nervous.
She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment.
Going to university in Los Angeles wasn���t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through.
As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop.
“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke.
It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area.
“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.”
“I said it’s okay.”
Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.”
It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough.
Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.
“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“Course. Guard it with my life.”
Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop.
“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head.
The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day.
Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?”
“How do I know you?”
The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him.
“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”
Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”
The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.”
That’s odd, Y/N thought.
“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time.
“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”
Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.”
Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t.
“Can I walk you out?” He asks.
She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move.
“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit.
“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters.
Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact.
Harry S.
It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say.
Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?”
Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.”
“Oh.”
Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number.
“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.
“Hopefully for us to plan a date.”
“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened.
“I’d like to see where it could go.”
“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”
Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?”
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him.
“Good. Thursday it is.”
Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life.
Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.
Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him.
“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.
Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed.
Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong.
Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N.
“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N.
In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.”
Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.”
“Anne,” Y/N repeated.
“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie.
Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined.
Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
+
Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.
“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story.
Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.”
“Your face didn’t change.”
Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.”
Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.”
Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”
“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.
Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.”
“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.”
Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem.
“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.
Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister.
Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home.
“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry sighs, “never been happier.”
Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.”
Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.”
She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”
Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”
“It’s clear she’s after something.”
He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”
“Your money.”
“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled.
“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.”
“How would you know?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.”
“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”
“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”
Harry’s anger is overwhelming him.
“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.
“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs.
He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.”
Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset.
“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.”
Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”
Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.
She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches.
Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed.
Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”
Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.”
“It’s only my sister,” he defends.
“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.”
Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”
“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.”
“It is when she needs a wack to her head.”
“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”
Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”
Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her.
Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.
“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out.
He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful.
Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But Gemma–”
He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”
Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset.
“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”
Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.
“I love you, Harry.”
He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.”
Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.
+
The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect.
There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word.
“My daughter owes you an apology.”
“Anne–”
She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.”
Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.”
Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside.
Harry greeted her with a kiss.
Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it.
Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle.
Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug.
“Hi,” Y/N greeted.
“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked.
Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.”
“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.
“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.”
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.
“Morning, pretty girl.”
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.”
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.
“Morning, pretty girl.”
“Hi, Harry. I love you.”
Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.”
“And did it?”
“Mmm…like magic.”
“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions.
“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.”
Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.”
“But she’s your–”
“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”
Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, my love. So much more.”
Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.
+
thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles angst#harry styles story#harry styles fluff#harry styles x y/n#harry styles angst story#harry styles fic rec#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction
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roadtrip au
I can’t stop thinking about a modern au roadtrip and what everyone would be doing in the minivan you definitely have. I’m sorry if this has been done before but -
Tav
You’re driving. Would you trust any of those other fools to? No. Absolutely not letting them behind the wheel
Responsible for keeping the schedule. You have to be at your destination on time and you’ll be damned if they’ll stop you.
The only person you sometimes let take over if you need a break is —
Gale
Let’s be real. Only other one of you with a driving license.
he sits shotgun mostly because he reads the map for you if your GPS goes out.
tries to work out shortcuts. Fails miserably. If you follow his “time saving” directions you’ll get so fucking lost. Only trust him to read out your planned route and nothing else.
Astarion
Fucking hates road trips. Catch him with a sleep mask on and headphones in. Will absolutely sleep through the whole entire thing.
Let’s be clear. He doesn’t NEED to sleep. But he does because he can’t fucking stand car talk. Would rather listen to podcasts and be in his own world. especially because of —
Lae’zel
Hates road trips too but because she’s a terrible backseat driver. Doesn’t understand why you can’t speed all the way there to make the trip more efficient, or take out other cars.
rolls down the window to shout at people on the road who she thinks are driving poorly.
Gets in fights with people at the gas station when you stop to refuel the car. And also in the car with —
Shadowheart
Always there to bicker with Lae’zel. When she’s not doing that she’s brooding out of the window.
Mutters that this must be some sort of trial from her god, because she is suffering being stuck in this minivan.
does fall asleep on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her though. (Often Lae’zel. Weird they always sit next to each other when they can’t seem to get along… but Lae’zel does let her sleep, claiming that the silence is better.)
Karlach
One of the few people who enjoys the ride!
likes to call out farm animals she sees as you drive by. “Sheep!” or “cows!”
LOVES a game of yellow car. Especially the version where you punch each other. Therefore she doesn’t get many volunteers to sit next to her.
Wyll
He controls the music and the aux cord. People all approve of his music tastes. Makes the best playlists, change my mind
he’s often singing along too, he has a nice voice, catch him and Tav belting out “unwritten” at the top of their lungs as you speed down the motorway.
helps settle fights in the van. Massive peacekeeper. If there was no Wyll there would be no roadtrip.
Halsin
Hates being in a car but sucks it up and does it anyway.
this man is the snack master. He brings all the snacks. And good stuff too, like a lot of nice sweets and crisps…
… because if people are eating they aren’t arguing.
likes to be next to a window so he can see nature go by, gets into conversations with Karlach about the animals and trees around 💕
#Bg3#tav#wyll#wyll ravengard#halsin#astarion#karlach#laezel#Lae’zel#shadowheart#gale of waterdeep#gale#gale dekarios#baldur's gate 3#Bg3 headcanons#Implied Lae’zel x shadowheart lol#Bg3 fic#Long post
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" H A V E Y O U S E E N M Y - O H ! "
johnny 'soap' mctavish x reader ⸝⸝ navigation
୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : you wanted your nice panties for a date but you cannot find them when they're wrapped around your roomates cock :(
୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : smut, suggestive - no acc sex, male masterbation, stealing panties, pervert behaviour, johnny's cock!!
you grunt whilst looking through your bedroom for your favourite pair of panties, a light blue lacy thong with a cute white bow plastered onto the top. it was the pair you would wear when trying to impress men, to make you seem sexy and hot. tonight you had a date so you needed to scurry around to find it, you sigh as it is nowhere to be seen. perhaps it was in the wash, you wouldn't know why it would be because you hadnt had sex with anyone in a while but you might as well check.
a confused look stuck onto your face as you search through your washing basket, nothing. then the washing machine, nothing. you scoff and look over towards your roomates door, maybe it had gotten mixed up with johnny's clothes?
you didn't feel that embarrassed because he was your best friend, he would tell you far more embarrassing things that makes asking him if he knows where your knickers are normal. you knock gently onto his door and to answer its silent, "johnny! you free?" you speak as there's no immediate answer.
you twist the handle and you see it's not locked so the door handle turns. the door creaks open and you try to peek inside but all you see is the floor, to be honest you were kind of scared, like why wasn't he answering? but that was just that small voice in the back of your head, the more sane, reasonable answer is that he had headphones on and couldn't hear. you step one foot inside, "johnny?" muttering before fulling swinging the door open and stepping into the room. "have you seen my- oh!"
as you peer up to johnny's bed and your jaw drops, what you find is not him listening to music and drawing or whatever his hobbies were. it was him, boxers and pants lowered to his thighs. his throbbing, massive cock, the strong veins that your eyes trail eventually meet what was supposed to be his tip but it was covered in a lace material. you stand there shocked and throw a hand over your eyes, "oh god im sorry!!" you shout, trying to get the burned image out of your eyes.
"fuck, im sorry bonnie" he trembles and quickly shuffles, you had expected him to be putting away his dick so you reopen your eyes. his cock still standing there proud but the lace was missing. "johnny! put that away!" you gasp and cover your face in embarrassment, he had no shame did he?
"what did you need?" he scoffs whilst pulling back up his clothes and hiding his turned on length. "i-i was uhm- i was looking for my underwear, you know that light blue pair?" an eye peeks over your hands, letting out a sigh of relief when it was gone. hands drop and you look up at his messy hair and his sweaty face.
"oh i know, ye checked the machine?"
"yeah i have, not there" you pout, strutting over to sit on the end of his bed. "ye know, clothes ge missin' in those daft machines. why do ye need them?" you look up at him and your eyes linger on his bare chest, you knew it was odd to look but you didn't really want to make eye contact. squirming closer as the end of the bed slumped and it was uncomfortable to sit on, your knees touch his legs as you move closer to him. you feel a weird lump under your leg but you ignore it. "'m going on a date"
"oh" he mutters, "just wear a ratty pair, bet the tosser isn't worth the fancy piece." his smirk jolts up, corners of his mouth reaching high. "whos the geezer anyways?"
you pull out your phone, thigh hitting with the lump in his bed and you pull out a picture of the guy you were meant to be seeing. he wasn't that attractive but he definitely was not ugly, you just wanted to re- put yourself out there after a long time of not bothering. "could be better" johnny shrugs, your eyes finally meet him and your lips part. fuck, he was pretty, especially for just wanking off. he wasn't all gross and disgusting, yeah he was kind of damp from the sweat but you found it more hot. "well i need them and i think ill just like- cry if i don't."
"'m sure youll be okay"
you huff, moving back to put your phone away and yet again the bump annoys you. you scoff and reach under the blanket to grab whatever was causing the lump. "wait-" johnny mutters, his hand coming towards you and you pull out the same cloth that covered johnnys dick just a few minutes ago. wait, it looks familiar. you hadn't put the pieces together before, you hadn't even gave the weird fabric a second thought but the light blue colour, the lacy feel and the almost falling off bow. "johnny!" you gasp, "you- my- johnny!" you shriek higher than before.
"awh! now you can ge on yer date" he smiles.
#v1x3n's fics ―୨୧⋆ ˚#cod x reader#reader insert#character x reader#x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#cod#ghost#mw2#johnny x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#johnny mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soap mactavish#141#soap x ghost#modern warfare#soap x y/n#soap x you#johnny mctavish headcannon#johnny mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap
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homecoming. ✿
the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.
xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.
xiao
xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?
okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.
as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.
he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?
���hi, xiao.”
your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.
your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.
“i’ve missed you”.
xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.
unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.
your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.
childe
you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.
you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.
you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.
slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.
it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.
childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.
scaramouche
to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?
in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.
you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.
just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.
“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.
when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.
the audacity.
he kisses you when you get in the car.
#bookshelf#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao fluff#childe fluff#scaramouche fluff#wanderer fluff#xiao headcanons#childe headcanons#scaramouche headcanons#wanderer headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#genshin fluff#genshin imagines
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orange colored sky (older!modern!eddie)
older!modern!eddie - setlist inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i got to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. manip by my fave @eddiemunsons-missingnipple tw: nothing really, very much a meet cute at a grocery store. eddie is in his early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. lemme know if you guys want this to be a whole thing.
the automatic doors rush cool air into your face, a sweet reprieve from the sticky heat of this summer. a much muggier july than you remember having as a kid. but then again, you don't remember that much about being a kid these days. trader joe's is a little busier than usual, which makes sense with the holiday weekend coming up -- but you hate when it's busy. there's already too many sounds -- some summer 90s playlist and the squeaks of the carts, people in their hawaiian shirts milling around with boxes and box cutters. you just want some snap peas for god sakes.
you grab a basket and adjust your canvas bags on your shoulder, tossing your headphones in them for later. you feel 'running errands ugly' but everyone seeing you in the bike shorts you threw on this morning doesn't think that view is ugly at all. your music drowned it out on the train ride over here. you're already sort of annoyed. people just don't know how to do anything anymore -- why are we just standing in front of produce. get what you need and go! you think hastily. but you wait for people to stop gawking at the produce and make their selection before you grab the romaine, snap peas, and shredded brussel sprouts you need. when you turn you almost walk entirely into someone's cart, eyes flitting up briefly and muttering a 'sorry, s'cuse me'.
can everyone just get off my fucking ass? you huff to yourself internally. you maneurver over to fruits, a few stands in a row -- citrus, apples, berries. all separated by category in large cargo looking boxes. you snag a big box of cherries, the three pound one, knowing you'll go through the small ones too fast. you frown over the lack of watermelon, continuing along while someone turns the corner into your aisle. you look up for a moment, just to scan your surroundings, to see who it is.
you've never seen him before, but you've never seen anyone here before. it's not like there's regulars at the grocery store in a city like this. his hands hang over the handle to his cart by the wrists, knuckles tattooed in shapes you can't make out. you follow the leather banded watch up to a full sleeve of ink, only obscured by the start of a cuffed t-shirt sleeve, a crisp white that blinds against the black of the elvira pin up tattoo on his tricep. horror icons blending into each other seamlessly. you can see more black and color peeking out from the collar of his shirt --vintage judas priest, mint condition, tucked comfortably under a well perserved denim vest covered in patches of bands you've never heard of. you're surprised by the black chino shorts on his bottom half, not expecting someone who was clearly still stuck in their grunge phase to wear those over cut off jeans. the busted up reebok's on his feet make up for it though -- pairing nicely with the tattoos on his calves and thighs, not quite sleeves, but enough to make a statement.
you grab a box of strawberries and pop them into your basket, surveying the mangos on the top shelf at your eye level while he maneuvers behind you. you think he's cute but you don't take too much stock in it -- it's so like you to have a 'train boyfriend' or 'trader joe's boyfriend' for a brief moment in time. someone cute that you spot outside and never speak to. it's one of those days.
he has brown eyes and thick lashes, hair dark wrapped in a bun on the top of his head with streaks of silver poking through, bangs in his face. some curls stick to the heated skin by his neck and jaw. not that you're looking. the scruff on his face is littered with salt and pepper -- maybe that part of him aging more than the rest. he grabs a heap of bananas to his nearly empty cart. he also has a big box of cherries in there. he wears a cologne with spice and suede in the notes, it's familiar, a little smoky. maybe an old boyfriend used to wear it. you shrug it off, grabbing a mango or two and popping it in a produce bag before hocking it in. more veggies for a greek salad. an onion. some pre-packaged turkey slices.
you turn into the first frozen food section, weaving through more people who just stand there and you grit your teeth. you snag some frozen broccoli, the coolness bringing you a moment of calm so that you don't lose your mind inside the store. more like traitor joe's. you grab a few more things, a veggie medley for a tofu scramble, some scallion pancakes that you’ll use as meal replacement because no matter how many times you think you’ll food prep you never do. you see him at the end of the aisle, rifling through bags of frozen shrimp to find one he likes. you notice he has a ring on but it’s on his pointer finger, two more rings on the hand that holds his cart by his hip – a silver chain dangles from what you assume is his wallet in his back pocket. his keys jingle from a carabiner by his front belt loop. slut, you think to yourself. you grab a bag of small frozen salmon filets, not paying much mind to your grocery store boyfriend of the week when you turn the corner to the next frozen food aisle. he’s there not soon after you, grabbing frozen fruit medleys and a few bars of chocolate on the non-frozen shelving above. you aren’t sure if he sees you, but you see him. you can smell the suede and spice of his cologne as his moves past you to the other end. bread is on the back wall of the store, you want to get sourdough but you know you’ll just eat it plain and not make sandwiches so you opt for the tuscan loaf instead. you snag a bag of mini bagels, forgoing the small baguettes this time. you can’t afford the good burrata this week for any special girl dinner you come up with, so it’s best to not have it around if you can’t pair it with anything pretty. further down the back wall you get to snacks and don’t ignore the bag of yogurt covered pretzels – a basket must. seaweed snacks for salmon rice bowls. plantain chips. Your basket feels a little heavy but at least this errand is almost over. you turn down the pasta, beans, and rice aisle and there he is turning down the other end. you both catch each other this time, because this time feels like it’s not a coincidence. you both break eye contact as quickly as you make it, both of you looking down and smiling to yourselves. you feel the heat on your cheeks but you don’t see his blush, both of you too preoccupied with whatever you have to pick up to pay attention to the other. you smell the suede and smoke even after you lose him to the next couple of aisles.
pre-packaged tortellini, lox, shredded cheese. chicken thighs. a six pack of some pretty sounding beer you’ve never tried. your basket overflows but it’s fine. the errand is over, at least here, before you need to run into target which for some reason is far less overstimulating. he’s a few people ahead of you on the opposite line, still leaning over the edge of his cart with his hands hanging, one thumbing a text to someone before he stands up fully to push the cart ahead. he looks over his shoulder and your eyes briefly meet for a moment – heat on your cheeks – before he moves ahead to turn down the long row of cashiers to pay. you don’t see him when it’s your turn and by the time you’re done paying you’ve already forgotten about him, lost in a flirty conversation with the guy ringing you up. target only has half of what you need and that’s fine because nothing else will fit in the big canvas bags you brought with you for your groceries and it’s at least an eight minute walk back to the train. you groan when you get back out into the heat, the boiler room of the subway cooking you as you make it down to the platform. a pleasant sigh passes your lips when you see it’s at least only a four minute wait until your train makes it to you – only a few more minutes of suffering before you’re on your way back to your air conditioned studio apartment. you look across the platform where some old lady’s push cart rattles as it makes it down the stairs on the other side. her little body walking ahead, a voice saying ‘i got it, ma’am don’t worry,’ echos down into the chamber of the subway.
there he is. a canvas bag on each arm filled to the brim and the push cart lifted in front of him. while you can’t see from this distance, you have a feeling you’d like how his arms looked at full capacity like this. the cart’s metallic jingle continues when he places it on the concrete ground, pushing it over to the woman who now sits pleasantly on the bench. you watch their conversation while they say quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘your welcomes’ to each other and he checks his phone while he finds a spot to stand, waiting for his train on the opposite side.
you check your phone just the same and look up again as he puts his phone in the pocket of his vest. his attention catches on you from across the way.
he gives you a small wave and smiles. he has a nice smile, infectious.
“hi.”
you wave back with two fingers, a small salute, “hey.”
“i’m eddie,” he starts as the red glow of the light on your train starts to pull in.
the chug, chug, chug starting to drown him out. he raises his voice with a boyish grin, you hear him just before the train obscures him from view – whooshing past you as it pulls into the station. “i normally go to trader’s on wednesdays!”
you get on the train when the doors open, seeing him still on the platform, searching for you in the windows. you put your hand up again in an awkward wave and he grins when he finds you. ‘stand clear of the closing doors, please!’ he puts a hand back up with two fingers, mouthing out a message. ‘wednesdays around two.’
you give him the okay symbol with your fingers and nod at him, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation, he chuckles too. his smile is pretty, lips are full. his two fingers point to his eyes and then at you – ‘see you then’.
the train pulls away before you get a chance to reply.
next
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#older!eddie munson#old!eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#stranger things#stranger things fan fiction
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"KIYOKO ISN'T STAYING IN AGAIN?!" tanaka and noya yell in sync. "no, but we still have yachi! and an honorable mention that i won't reveal." daichi starts and yachi waves at the two energetic boys. "honorable mention?" hinata adds into the conversation. "you'll see." suga says with a smile looking at tsukishima smugly, he sighs and grumbles incoherent complains. all of the other boys look at him and look at him with furrowed brows. "why are you looking at me?" tsukishima spits. "suga looked at you when he said-" "shut up, yamaguchi." he interrupts. "sorry tsukki."
"wow, how fancy." you say to tsukishima in a quiet voice as you scan over the building they were staying in before their intense match they have in a few days, you don't look at him when he speaks up. "it really isn't much. let's just get inside." he mumbles and glances down at you already walking to the wide doors. "wha- don't go in without me!" he demands, but you're too far away to hear him and you slide open the doors, all of karasuno looking back at you. you stare for awhile before suga clears his throat and speaks, "ah, yn.". you wave with a smile and the gray haired boy walks over to you, placing a comforting hand on the small of your back as he introduces you. "this is yn, she'll be staying with us until the match." he starts, opening his mouth to say more but noya and tanaka let out a yell. "YN-SAAAAN, WOOOWWWW!!! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!" they yell, skipping toward you and falling on their knees. "YN-SAN, PLEASE WILL YOU-" they shout at you, bowing on the floor and you just stare. why are they so...weird...?? "she won't be doing anything for you." tsukishimas low voice echos through tanaka and noyas ears, they quickly sit up and stare up at the blonde boy. "waitwaitwait you can't tell us what to do!" tanaka yells angrily and noya nods with his hands on his hips. "you're right, but i'm aloud to tell you to leave my girlfriend alone, because this girl doesn't know how to say no." he flicks your forehead and you cover it with both your hands, furrowing your brows up at him and he just chuckles through his nose. "G-G-G-G-GIRLFRIEND??!!" tanaka, noya, and hinata (who's been hiding behind tanaka) scream in sync. "stop screaming, you're gonna bust my eardrums." tsukishima grumbles, looking down at the hand that's been resting on your back, he looks at suga with a stare that says "can you not.". suga chuckles and his hand leaves your warm body. "yes, girlfriend, so don't try anything. i assure you she doesn't want any of you." he glares down at all three of them and hinata shivers in intimidation. "y-yessir." they say in unison. daichi stands up from his spot, clapping his hands together to grab everyones attention successfully. "food's about to be done, i'm sure you all are hungry?"
"they're so childish." tsukishima complains and tosses his headphones on the nightstand next to the medium sized bed, he sighs. "i think they're all nice, i like them." you tell him and sit on the bed, the mattress dipping down from tsukishimas weight when he lays down next to you. "don't show too much interest, those air heads and that little shrimp will get the wrong idea." he says with closed eyes. the light from the moon outside creeps through the thin curtains and paints his skin one shade lighter, emphasizing his features. his porcelain skin seems to almost glow in the moonlight, his hazel eyes closed shut, his usual furrowed brows resting for once, you even notice a few freckles splayed against his under eyes, and his glasses shine before you decide to respond to him. "it's okay kei, no need to worry about what they'll do." you assure him while slipping his glasses of his smooth face, his eyes remain closed while you run a hand through his short blonde hair, placing a soft kiss against his forehead and he sighs in content at your affection, doing nothing to stop you because you and him both know he's a sucker for your love. "i know, it's just..." he starts, his navy black eyelashes flutter as he opens his eyes, golden irises meeting with yours and his gaze lingers for awhile, and yours does too. tsukishima is a very, very handsome boy, with such an interesting personality, sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky. his enhanced cheeks dusting pink as he silently admires your face. "you're so...not an annoying pipsqueak. i'm just being cautious of those girl crazy dimwits." he confesses in a hushed tone, his eyes shoot across your eyes and down to your lips, making a triangular motion. "thank you...i think?" you say with uncertainty, and you laugh quietly. "you're very welcome." tsukishima says with a small smile on his lips. "lay down with me." tsukishima mumbles and you oblige plopping your body next to his tall figure, you place your elbow on the fluffed pillows while you rest your cheek on your palm. "what, tired from arguing with your teammates?" you say, a cheeky smile plastered on your lips, the apples of your cheeks mirroring the blush tsukishima has on his smooth ones. "course i'm tired, do you know how confusing it is to have a conversation with those morons?" you dont respond, only looking at him with a sweet smile, staring at him with an expression that screams "i love you.". he gives you a "stop smiling at me" look before adjusting his gaze from yours. "shut up and go to sleep." "i didnt say anything!" you shout and he quickly hushes you and forces your head down on the pillow under you. "sleep." he demands and he shuts his eyes. "kei, i cant sleep." you whisper to him, poking his side and he slaps your hand away softly. "just sleep." he whispers back, his eyes still shut as he adjusts his position so he's resting on his side and motions you to lift your head up, and you do. he slips the arm he was resting on around your shoulder and he pushes you closer to his chest, your face snuggled in his shirt, the smell of his laundry detergent filling your senses. "better?" he says with sass, but he's far from being irritated. "hmmm, you're missing something." tsukishima scoffs, pulling your head away from his chest and guiding it up to look at his flustered appearance that he thinks he's so good at hiding. his eyes never meet yours as he closes them and tsukishima leans in, your eyes flicker closed while you wait for his lips to connect with yours. and they do, they do so passionately it makes both of you lose your breath. he pulls away for a few seconds to let out a shaky exhale before pulling you in for another kiss. his soft lips move in sync with yours perfectly and he runs his long fingers through your hair while deepening the kiss, swiping his tongue against your bottom lip before his gentle lips leave yours. his gentle lips leave yours and he quickly looks down at your hand, intertwining his longer fingers with yours and he squeezes three times. "i love you."
#tsukishima kei#tsukishima#tsukki#tsukishima haikyu#tsukishima kei haikyuu#tsukishima fluff#haikyu tsukishima#haikyuu tsukishima#haikyu tsukki#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x reader fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x you#haikyu fluff#haikyuu fluff#aronkiepronkie
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End Game 6
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: Andrew keeping us angry this fine friday
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You leave your headphones around your neck and tuck your phone into your pocket. You focus on the simple steps of loading the coffee machine as your grandmother mutters and shuffles away. You can hear her harrumph as she goes into the front room and the groan of her chair as she sits heavily.
The scratch of dry pages sounds as she gives no acknowledgement to the intruder. You stop in the archway as a chill runs through you. You’re sick to your stomach. The walls are closing in. They always feel a bit tight, suffocating even, but you’re really trapped. He’s not going to stop. He’s showing you just that.
You make yourself keep going. You come out into the front room. Andy stands by the bay window, looking out onto the unmowed lawn. His shoulders are straight even as he has his hands in his pockets. He wears a pair of sleek pants and a powder blue button-up with short sleeves. He looks as put together as ever, definitely out of place in your grandmother’s cramped house.
“Coffee on,” you croak to your grandma and Andy turns, his lips twitching as his cheek dimples, “can we talk outside?”
He tilts his head, “sure,” he accepts, “Cassie,” he nods at your grandma as he struts across the room, “sorry for disturbing you. You have a lovely home.”
Your grandmother rocks the chair and looks up at him. There’s an arch in her brow that isn’t entirely bothered, “thank you, Andrew? Was it?”
“Andy,” he grins.
“Hm,” she grumbles and narrows her eyes, “sorry to hear about your kid.”
“Thanks,” his voice falters, “getting through.”
He nears and you quickly turn away, keeping your distance from him as he follows you the door. You can barely get it open before he catches up. He holds the door above your head as he trails you outside and you stumble down the step. You spin to face him, crossing your arms as you maintain a wide breadth from him. He stops on the bottom stair and watches you.
“Why are you doing this?” You ask crisply.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help--”
“You sure about that?” He challenges swiftly.
You wince and look away. You’re embarrassed. You never invited friends over because they weren’t welcome. Even Kara only ever saw the outside of your grandma’s house and you never told her about the nasty remarks or the boiling silences that had you fleeing like a frog from hot water.
You swallow and purse your lips tightly, “I’m sure. I’m just fine.”
“Can’t be easy, living like that,” he remarks.
“Stop,” you keep your gaze averted.
“Not just the peeling walls and whatever, but her, she’s not very nice, is she?”
“I told you to stop,” you snap at him, facing him, “you do not know me or my life.”
“You’re the one closing me out,” he accuses, “honey, please, I want to know. Has anyone else even asked? Checked in?”
“I have friends--”
“Yeah, but they got their own live, don’t they? Like, what’s her name, Kayla?” He puts a hand up, then snaps his fingers, “Kara, yeah, that’s it. Sure, you had your day out but what’s she doing for you now? Miles away.”
“I’ll figure it out. I am,” you sniff, “it’s not your business, Andy.”
“You know, making yourself suffer isn’t some great show of honour, right? You’re just spitting in the face of the escape you’ve been hoping for--”
“No, not with you,” you sneer.
“How do you know that? Why can’t it be me?”
“You know--”
“I know, I lied. I hurt you. I’ve apologised over and over and I’ll keep doing that as long as I need to. Honey, let me ask you, when has anyone ever said sorry to you? When have they ever cared about your feelings? About your forgiveness?” He cranes to look at the house then back to you, “did your parents ever say sorry for leaving you here? Does your grandma ever say sorry for insulting you? How about Kara? Does she ever apologise for ignoring you for that skinny kid she’s got nipping at her heels?”
“How do you know that?” You exclaim, “what-- why--” you can barely speak as your head reels. You don’t understand how he knows about Kara or how he found you or why he just won’t give up. “Andy, I—you can’t replace Jacob, alright? I don’t want anything from you. I can’t-- I can’t take it. Alright? It’s not right.”
“I’m not trying to replace him, he’s gone,” Andy drops his shoulders and steps onto even ground, “I’m trying to start over and I’m offering you the same thing. You don’t have to stay in this shit hole. You don’t have to wallow like this. I could get you into a better school. I can make a few calls, get you in at UMass or Boston, close to me--”
“What the fuck?” You burst out, “what-- no. No. You’re... you... I don’t want that.”
He’s quiet. His brows knit as he stops just a step away, “why not?”
You stare at him, stunned. You should want it, shouldn’t you? To get out? To have better? Opportunity doesn’t knock on your door every day but this is not that. This is strange. He hasn’t said so but you know there’s more than just generosity at play. More than a mourning father trying to do good.
“Because I don’t want to be anyone’s burden. So no thank you. I am not interested in whatever you’re offering. I can’t trust you. Everything between us is based on a lie,” you say, “you need to understand that and move on.”
He stares at you. His blue eyes search your defiant face and he blows out slowly through his nose. He pushes his shoulders back and stands at his full height.
“No, you don’t understand,” his face darkens and you back up, “you don’t understand everything I can give you. Everything I could do for you. You don’t get it. You’re young and you have no idea because you’ve never had any of those things.” He steps closer as you inch away, “but what you really don’t understand is what I can take away from you.” His lashes flick down and he sighs, “I didn’t want it to be like this but it’s the only way to make you see.”
“What do you mean?” You utter.
He smiles, not a real smile, a wry, almost mournful smile. He shrugs and you flinch as he sidesteps you. You keep out of his way as he strides down the walkway and you turn to watch his back. He stops at the end and peeks back, “you and me, we were meant to be together. Can’t you see that? It wasn’t chance, it’s fate.”
He puts his back to you once more and struts to his silver SUV. You stay as you are, trapped in everything he said and didn’t. He’s not done and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop him.
Or maybe it’s not you who needs to stop him.
🎮
It isn’t your first time in a precinct. You have vague memories of similar scenes from your childhood; some faded by the years, others out of pain. As you pass through the doors, doubt stops you in your tracks. How many times did they send you home with your mother still reeking of alcohol or let your father out still in one of his rages?
It’s been a long time and the world is different. Isn’t it? Besides, you’re an adult now. You have a voice. You better start using it.
You approach the desk where a man in uniform sits behind thick plexiglass. You cough to get his attention and bounce nervously on the balls of your feet. You can’t think how to begin so you just start talking.
“Uh, hi, um, I think I need to file a police report?” You say.
He looks at you dully, “for what?”
“Well, er, I... don’t know what it would be technically called, I guess. But, this guy, uh, a man... he won’t leave me alone.”
The officer scoffs, “really? You young ones...”
“It’s not... I don’t know him, sir, so--”
“Let me guess? He whistled at you on the street? Or maybe he offered to buy you a drink?” He narrows his eyes.
“No, sir. He’s been following me. He showed up at my work and my house and I told him to go but he... won’t.”
He rolls his eyes but grabs a piece of paper. He shakes his head and slides it under the slot, “fine, fill it out. We’ll put the incident on file. Unfortunately, we don’t lay charges for being social.”
Great. So you were wrong. Again. And why would they take you seriously? No one ever does.
You sit and fill out the form. Your info, Andy’s info, and a written recount of each incident. You think you have the dates right. You bring it back to the desk.
“I have texts too, if that helps.”
“Nah,” he takes the form as you push it through, “not like you’re going to court.”
You grimace. You hate being talked to like you’re stupid, you’d rather be ignored.
“Well, thanks, I guess,” you grumble.
“Hold up,” he says, “gotta do a quick check before we file this.”
He types into his computer. He looks between the paper and the screen. You wait. What a waste of time. Now you’re sure he’s just trying to make you look stupid.
“Where is this Andrew Barber from? He’s not in the local records.”
“I don’t... know,” you blink. He said something about Boston U? “Massachussetts, maybe? I think he’s a lawyer.”
“Pretty common name...” he mutters as he hits several keys, “hmm, let’s see. Lawyer... sure, makes sense—ha, assistant DA? All the way down here?” He looks at you, “alright, honey, why don’t you go have more fun on Google?”
“No, it’s not--”
“You know it’s obstruction to file a false report,” he says.
“No, it’s true. I told you, I have messages--”
“So you don’t know him but you’re texting him?” He challenges, “I’m advising you to leave right now before I book you for wasting my time.”
You exhale and shake your head, dropping your shoulders as you turn. You drag your feet across the gray tile and to the door. So much for trying. Just like everything else, it’s a lost cause. You’re starting to believe Andy. He might be your only chance. You really are that pathetic.
No, you won’t give in. You might not have had much in life. Maybe not a nice house or a good family or even done anything great but you’re still your own person. You’re working towards that. You’re going to school, you’re making minimum wage, you’re doing what you have. It’s a means to an end. Andy can’t be that end.
You don’t know what to do. It’s not like you can ask your grandma. She’d never listen long enough to understand and even if she did, would she care?
You wander down the street and sit on a bench, numb as you try to think of something. You clutch your phone and look down at the screen. You have one lifeline left but is it too much to ask? You unlock the phone and find Kara’s name.
You hit the call button and raise the phone to your ear. Maybe she knows what to do. She always had boy troubles; you remember when Michael had a crush on her in grade eleven.
“Heya! How are ya, girl?” She answers with a giggle.
“Kara, I’m...” you search the street and your eyes water, “not good.”
“Oh,” her tone falls, “oh, is everything okay?”
“No.”
“What’s going on? Are you hurt? Is your grandma okay?” She hushes someone and you hear rustling as she moves on the other end.
“Kara, you remember that boy I met online. The one I was supposed to meet?”
“Yeah, the one that stood you up.”
“It wasn’t a boy. I mean. It wasn’t who I thought it was...” it all comes tumbling out before you can stop yourself, “it was his dad.”
“What?” She nearly shrieks, “ew. Oh my god, what the fuck?”
“Yeah, and he...” you see a silver SUV and your words crackle. The window rolls down as the car slows and Andy peers out at you.
He knows Kara. He saw her at the con and somehow he learned more about her. How did he do that? Obviously, he has connections. Far above you. And her. If he can find out who she is, where you are, what else can he do?
You’ve already told her too much.
“Sorry, Kar, I gotta go--”
“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t drop that on me and just bail,” Kara squeals.
“I’m sorry, I just... I’ll call you back.”
You hang up and lower the phone. You stare at Andy as he parks and gets out of the car. He shuts the door and crosses the pavement, turning to sit beside you. He peers around casually.
“So, should I expect a visit from the police?” He asks.
You sit back and scoff, “whatever, dude.”
“I got a lot of buddies on the force. They don’t mess with DA’s, even out of district. If you gave me a chance, you’d know these things about me.”
You don’t say anything. He’s not listening and he’s not going to. You should be used to that.
“So, do we keep going?” He asks.
You slide to the edge of the bench. You don’t look at him. You just walk away. He’s your problem. You can’t make him Kara’s too. Not when he’s showing you exactly how far he’ll go.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#end game#defending jacob
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Various HH characters x autistic!reader
Prize 1/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!
This post includes: charlie, vaggie, alastor, Lucifer, adam, and lute
CHARLIE
Honestly I can see Charlie herself being somewhere on the spectrum! So she can relate to you in some way when you're having some struggles. Shes so so accommodating when it comes to your needs, quite literally bending over backwards to make sure the hotel is a safe space for you. Theres likely a sensory room somewhere in the hotel, where you (or really anyone!) Can go to unwind and just vibe. Protective of you, as she is with everyone else she cares about. You.. may have to get her to cool it if things get a little too heated. Warm and smells like apple pie, and I dont know about you guys but that's possibly one of the most pleasing and calming combos
VAGGIE
Very quick to shut things down if someone tries to get on your case for your needs for whatever reason, same goes for anyone who does it without intending to be harmful/doing it unknowingly. Shes your guard dog, and shes going to make sure you're safe mentally and physically. Likely stands trying to choose between different fidgets to pack for an outing trying to determine which one might come more in handy. Packs both. Actually she definitely has a pack somewhere for you that has a bunch of items to carry on you to help you out (water, headphones, ect ect). Despite that she does think you're capable and will step back if her worries cause her to overstep and make you feel bad. Vaggie does tend to have trouble gauging how much effort and feeling into things
ALASTOR
In the nicest way possible, he does not care. Obviously he doesn't care in the "I dont care that you're ND and I'm not going to avoid doing things that trigger you", it's a "I dont care because it is what it is", and besides hes got manners! Sometimes the static ambience around him can be comforting, like white noise.. sometimes he hums or softly plays music if you need something to focus on during an overwhelming moment. However if it makes things worse it's getting cut the second you say something. You're the only person allowed into his radio tower, if you need an escape
LUCIFER
As stated above I headcanon that Charlie is somewhere in the spectrum so he already has an idea of what to do to make things easier and more welcoming for you! Thankfully his home isnt too chaotic and he doesnt usually switch up his routine so if routines mean a lot for you Lucifer is your man! Puts his crafting skills to good use and makes you personalized fidget toys! He loves talking to you but if you need him to be quiet for a while he'll be understanding and work quietly on his ducks. Similarly to his daughter he doesnt let anyone try to make you feel bad for trying to tend to your needs. Though hes less of a pushover/holds his temper a little easier than charlie, but hes still quick to shut anything down
ADAM
In the beginning he can be a little.... how does one say this nicely? Not the best.. hes not at all educated so you're probably going to have to sit him down and find a way to get him to listen. Hes a little misguided when it comes to helping you moving forward but there is a new added effort in there. Takes you away from environments that are too overwhelming for you, or tells everyone to shut the hell up.. which might make things worse thanks to his shouting. He's got the spirit but his methods are not the best. His wings are soft and as long as you dont pluck anything out, he let's you run your fingers through his feathers. Would get sucked into those sensory and/or asmr videos with you
LUTE
I can see her being on the spectrum too tbh but I dont think shes aware, so anytime you try to bring up the possibility of her being ND she kind of just dismisses it. "Everyone does that," mindset. While she doesnt totally understand all of your habits and needs, she still does her best to make sure you're satisfied. She can be callous with others, often causing conflict to those who choose not to listen to an exterminator.. though to heavens citizens what status to exterminators have..? Shrugs. Shes a little.. tense? Harsh? No harsh sounds mean. Shes not used to being tender for someone else, so this is all a learning process for her.. its going to take a while before she grows accustomed to you autism or not.. but shes trying, because she does love you even if shes not used to these feelings!
#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#charlie x reader#charlie x you#charlie morningstar x you#charlie imagine#vaggie x you#vaggie imagine#vaggie x reader#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#radio demon x you#radio demon imagine#radio demon x reader#Lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin adam x you#hazbin adam x reader#adam x you#adam x reader#hazbin lute x reader#lute imagine#lute x reader
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beating the heat * ls2
it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver
notes: this actually took me longer than thirty minutes to write im sorry
| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |
your eyes widen as your eyes stay on the tv screen in george's side of the garage. you readjust the headphones sitting in your ears as you push yourself towards the screen in the corner.
"logan's retiring," you mutter to yourself. you hurriedly tear the headphones from your head. you cover your ears from the sound of george's car driving into the pitlane for a stop.
"excuse me," you mutter to toto, tapping him on the shoulder as you say it and immediately disappear. while this should be concerning for the team principal, you are old enough to know what you are doing. you have been around for long - he doesn't need to keep tabs on you.
he just shrugs and goes back to speaking into the mic.
you navigate your way around the paddocks quick. perhaps it's a good thing that you and george had accidentally crashed into one another at the start of the race, forcing you to retire the car due to irreparable damages. you're not a big fan of the heat in qatar, and it seems that neither is logan.
you're not angry at george. actually, you will definitely be laughing about the whole thing over some late-night food in the hotel together with some soda.
you find benny standing outside the medical centre with his phone to his ear. you wave at him to catch his attention as you approach. he pulls the phone from his ear when you do.
"is logan inside?" you point towards the door. "is he alright?"
"dehydrated and unwell," he sighs, shaking his head. "i'm on the phone with his mother - you head right in."
you mutter a quick thank you, already a bit regretful that you had interrupted his phone call to update logan's mother. you head right into the medical building and try to find the one room that had the most movement.
you stumble in, chest heaving as you're greeted by james and logan sitting in the corner of the room. you sigh in relief as logan smiles at you weakly, his head resting on the wall behind him, arm stretched out as a nurse connects him to an iv drip.
"are you okay?" you ask, finally walking in. "what happened, mate? i thought you were drinking water and felt better from the flu."
logan shakes his head. "apparently the flu doesn't go great with the qatar heat. i tried to see it through, you know. but i just- i couldn't. it's too much. it's so stupid."
you glance at james and tilt your head. james shrugs. "i keep telling him it's okay. if he carried on racing, who would've known what would happen?"
you slump your shoulders and pat him on the knee. "don't be so hard on yourself. the heat really is something, you know? you're not the only one feeling it," you explain slowly, "i'm already fighting the heat while standing in the garage all night."
"but everyone else is having a go at it. look at oscar?" he throws his free hand into the air to show you his frustration. "stupid. everything about this is stupid. the fact that i'm here and still not in the car is stupid."
"i used to be this hard on myself when i was younger, you know," you sigh, putting your hands behind your back. you lean on the wall to prop yourself up and nod when logan raises an eyebrow at you. "yeah. i'm a woman in motorsport - i was my biggest critic. i was very uptight until george and i became teammates."
"why? you were amazing even when you first started out. you were on the podium in the first half of your rookie season," logan mutters. "everyone kissed the ground you walked on. you're still in chatter as a title contender for years to come."
you shrug. "maybe you only consumed articles that put me in a great light. there were a lot of those," you admit, remembering the way you'd tear yourself apart indulging in articles about your place in formula one, "but there were also a lot that picked me apart and treated me less than.
"i retired once because i wasn't feeling great from my period. imagine the backlash i got after that. from the media, the fans, and people i thought had my back. but i had to retire - it's the safer route than pushing through and potentially passing out and crashing in the car. i could've died if that were to happen."
logan's eyebrows furrowed. "that's not fair. it's just your period - it's natural."
"i know," you point a knowing finger at him, "your flu is also just natural. do you know what i did the next weekend after i retired that weekend?" you grin, glancing over at james. he knows this story because he had been around when it happened. "i bounced right back up - i won my first race."
he laughs softly and looks away. "i'm not as great as you, come on. no way i'm winning the next race."
"to make it far, you have to stay true to yourself. you did the right thing today, kid." you folded your arms over your chest and smiled. "don't get lost in the sport, logan. f1 will always be here like it's always been. you're human. don't forget that."
he looks at you again, tears welled in his eyes from your speech. he breathes out shakily and smiles. "has anyone ever told you that you'd make a great ted talk?"
"ah, shut up, logan."
@cashtons-wife
#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant x you#female driver#fem!driver#f1 female driver#f1 x you#f1#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke inthaf#logan sargeant platonic#disneyprincemuke 3k celly
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New Years Fic
Happy New Year!
The poll said Jegulus (quite honestly I most likely would have written Jegulus no matter what I ended up posting, but this worked out well for me) so here you go!
1,251 words
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Fireworks went off around him, lighting up the sky. Regulus flinched with each one, hating the sound but loving the colors.
Warm arms wrapped around his waist. “You left.”
Regulus leaned into his boyfriend’s warmth. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, love.” James kissed his cheek. “Feeling okay?”
“I guess.” Regulus flinched as another firework went off, watching the explosion of green and red with wide eyes. “It was kind of crowded, I needed to breathe.”
The colorful sparks died down. “I should have told you I was leaving.”
“You didn’t have to.” James rocked them a little bit. “I have something for you. I was going to give it to you when the fireworks started, but I couldn’t find you.”
Regulus turned in James’s arms, leaning a bit to look at him. If James let go of his waist, he’d fall into the snow, but Regulus wasn’t worried.
He knew James would never let him go.
Warm brown eyes met his own. In the background, a colorful gunshot went off, and suddenly those eyes were lit up with breathtaking streaks of gold.
Regulus thought it suited him - gold in his eyes to match the sunlight in his smile. “You look nice tonight.”
“Thank you.” James grinned. “You’re ethereal right now.”
A laugh burst from his chest, and Regulus rolled his eyes as his face flushed warm. “Do you even know what that means?”
“Celestial,” James responded easily, voice soft. “Exquisite. Refined and delicate in a way that’s too perfect for this world.”
He shifted, holding Regulus with one arm now and raising the other hand to trace over Regulus’s cheek. “Ethereal. You, standing here in the snow, surrounded by stars. Flushed from the cold and thriving in the silence, with stardust eyes tinted by the fireworks around us.”
Regulus was lost in the words - untethered to a single thing in this world except for James.
James reached into a bag at his side, pulling out a box. “Here.”
Regulus took the box, turning to lean against James’s chest while he opened it. The wrapping fell away to reveal a black box.
Inside the black box was a pair of comfortable-looking headphones.
Headphones Regulus had been talking about for a week.
“To make the fireworks better,” James quietly explained. “I know you don’t like the sound.”
Regulus blinked to clear his vision, trailing his fingers over the smooth material. They were black, but decorated with subtle silver constellations. He traced each one, grateful that James was holding him together right now. “I might not be able to talk with you.”
“We don’t have to talk.” There was light pressure on his head, and Regulus knew James had kissed him. “I just want you to be comfortable.”
Regulus felt his breath catch more than he heard it.
“Alright?” James asked.
Regulus nodded, taking one of James’s hands and pressing a light kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I love you.” He turned again, the box between them. “Will you?”
“Of course,” James replied. He took the headphones out of the box and kissed the tip of Regulus’s nose, making him scrunch it up. “I love you, too.”
Then he carefully slipped the headphones over Regulus’s head, clicking a button on the side, and the world went silent.
Regulus almost cried.
When James traced a warm hand under his eyes, he realized that maybe ‘almost’ hadn’t been the right word.
James took his hand, leading him to the car a few feet away. Regulus watched as he brushed the snow off of the hood and climbed up, offering Regulus a hand.
Regulus took it, letting James pull him up and getting situated on James’s lap, leaning against his chest as he watched the sky explode with colors again.
The fireworks still made a little bit of noise - but just a little. Like a dull base drum instead of a sharp gunshot.
It was perfect, and Regulus enjoyed the fireworks more than he’d ever been able to before.
When the colors died down, and Regulus was so relaxed he could probably fall asleep out here on top of James, he reached up and removed the headphones, setting them carefully on his lap. “You asked Sirius and Remus and Lily and Marlene about their New Year resolutions.”
“Mmhm,” James agreed. He sounded relaxed, too. Regulus briefly wondered what time it was.
“You didn’t ask me,” Regulus pointed out.
“I know,” James replied. “You hate making New Year resolutions.”
“You do know that,” Regulus agreed, pleased. “Do you remember why?”
“Because it’s idiotic to make a promise just because everyone else is doing it, especially when no one ever really keeps promises made on New Years,” James answered, echoing Regulus’s usual explanation.
“Still true,” Regulus said. He took a deep breath. “But I actually want to make one this year.”
“Oh?” James hummed. “Want to tell me?”
“I want to tell only you,” Regulus admitted. His heart was hammering in his chest - not because he was scared to ask, or because he didn’t know what James would say - but because this was big. This was a choice.
Regulus never thought he’d make this choice. He’d been vocally against it, actually, and James knew that.
Which is why the choice had to be his. James would never ask. He would never ignore the boundary Regulus had set for himself.
“This year,” Regulus started quietly, voice uneven. “I resolve to ask you to marry me.”
James’s breath caught. “What?”
Regulus laughed, anxious and overwhelmed and so, so safe. He twisted in James’s lap, trusting James to keep him from falling off of the slanted hood. Then he met wide brown eyes, his voice slowly growing steadier as he spoke.
“I resolve to ask you to marry me,” he repeated, the words building between them. “Not tonight. Not this month. I won’t tell you when. But I’m going to do it, and I wanted you to know.”
James was beaming, brighter than the fireworks could have ever hoped to be. “Really?”
“Really,” Regulus promised.
“I’ll say yes,” James told him. He kissed Regulus’s cheek, his nose, his other cheek. His lips, briefly, but they were both smiling too much for it to be a real kiss. “Whenever you ask. I’ll say yes.”
“I know.” Regulus took a deep breath. “I know.” He hid against James’s sweater. “You always tell me yes.”
James laughed, holding him close. “That’s true.”
Regulus hummed in contentment. “Can we stay out here a while longer?”
“Yes,” James replied, kissing the top of his head. “We can do anything you want.”
Regulus smiled at that. “That’s a lot of power you’re giving me.”
“You have all the power, love,” James told him. “Every bit of it.” He kissed his head again. “You can have anything you want. Just say the word.”
The air was a little chilly, and there were people filling his house, and they were probably still being loud in there.
But out here, Regulus was warm in James’s arms. He was surrounded by love and stars and an easy quiet.
“I just want you.” Regulus kissed James’s neck. “Only you.”
“You have me,” James promised. “I’m yours.”
“You’re mine,” Regulus agreed. He let his eyes close, tired but so, so happy. “And I’m yours, too.”
“You’re mine,” James echoed, voice soft.
It was the last thing Regulus heard before he gave in to the pull of sleep, trusting James to keep him safe.
Trusting James, because James was everything.
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10 - worst case scenario
from where you were sitting, you had the perfect view of aether. he was sitting in one of the booths, close to the back, dressed in a white crewneck sweater you picked out. it was paired with his favorite, pale blue denim jeans. wrapped around his neck was a friendship necklace he and you shared. something you had bought when you went to the mall together in high school.
right before the door rang, he nervously fixed his bangs using his phone camera. as you quickly sipped from your coffee cup, you saw a tall, blond man approaching aether. he sat in front of him, waving about being slightly late. based on the movement of aether’s lips, you can infer that he told him ‘no worries, i also just arrived.’ which was quite the lie.
he came with you to nilou’s cafe an hour earlier. telling you that he needed help scoping out which seats would be ideal for his date. you didn’t think it’d be this serious until he looked at you with those shining, bright amber eyes.
at least it paid off, you thought, watching as the two of them engaged in small talk.
the day was busy. people were coming in and out. others had stopped by to chat with friends. college students were scattered in all sorts of places, typing rapidly at their macbooks.
staring off into space, you didn’t pick up on the sound of the door opening again. a man with ash-grey hair walks through, turning his head side to side as he carefully observes the area. it was loud. even with his headphones on and soft tunes of classical music playing through them, he could hear every conversation of any customer. he adjusts the hold he has on his bag, approaching one of the girls working. he musters the kindest smile he can under the pressure.
“i’m sorry, do you mind sharing a seat with this gentleman here?” she stands before you with a tray underneath her arm. she blocks your view of aether and you quickly murmur a response along the lines of ‘yes, of course, go right ahead.’ not realizing that the man you would be sharing a table with was the last person on earth you’d want to be stuck with.
your heart quickens at the sight of him. a feeling you wish you could shove down the drain and flush. the guy you tried so hard to avoid this year was just in front of you. only a few inches away.
he is as pretty as ever. with the way his turquoise and cherry eyes make contact with yours. the softness of his palms combined with the subtle callouses on his knuckles. you notice he’s still wearing the cologne you bought for him. the scent of wood sage and sea salt floating through the air. you swallow a thick lump that had formed at the base of your throat.
he stares at the menu for a little while before waving to the girl, requesting for a black coffee. you press your lips into a thin line as he tightens his jaw. he leaves one hand on the table.
“what a funny coincidence, running into like this.” he starts, the sound of his voice leaving you breathless.
from the corner of aether’s eyes, he sees alhaitham. he feels his jaw beginning to drop and his hands grow clammy. kaveh’s voice draws him away through. and now he’s stuck in an awkward predicament. torn between helping out his best friend or talking to the guy he’s been crushing on. he wants to get up and leave with you but he needed to be here for kaveh.
you were completely on your own.
“what brings you here?” his fingers tap the surface of the wooden table. an arched brow pointed to you.
“i was just craving some coffee. surely someone like you would know.” you reply, clicking your tongue. your response wasn’t as clever as you thought and he fights the urge to smile at your poor attempt at getting under his skin.
when he catches your voice, the world suddenly grows quiet. the music playing in his ears has now faded into white noise that accompanies the lullaby of your words. despite the bustling nature of the cafe, he hears you crystal clear. it was nice hearing your voice after so long. he could only dream about it after you transferred departments.
he doesn’t say anything though. only nodding his head at your response.
when his coffee arrives, the waitress gives him a little wink, glancing at you before leaving. he turns the cup with his fingers, the heat of the cup warming his skin.
“why are you here? this place isn’t exactly close.”
“... here to support a friend, i suppose,” he says, “i can’t help but notice you might be doing the same. is that not aether i see in the booth? it’s quite impressive seeing how small our world is.”
you bite your lip. “so who’s this friend of your’s huh?”
“kaveh. architecture student. master’s degree. perhaps you and aether might know him.”
surely he was joking. kaveh? did you hear that right? kaveh, the man that aether has been crushing on for the past few weeks, was alhaitham’s roommate? you have to stop yourself from dropping your iced coffee over the table, flabbergasted at this sudden revelation.
“you… can’t be serious here.”
“dead serious, (name).”
"this must be a joke from you, haha." a dry laugh escapes you.
"i can promise you its genuine." he drinks from his coffee, nonchalant about the ordeal. “based on where we are at now. our situation at hand. i can only assume we’re both here to make sure our friends’ date goes well. is that correct?”
curse his intellect. curse his breathtaking eyes. curse the way his lips curve into a smug smile. he read you so easily you might as well be a picture book for him. you try your hardest not to focus on the small beauty mark next to his cheek, the same one you’d always kiss before the day started. your left eye twitches in annoyance as you heaved a deep sigh.
“why does that matter anyway?” you keep your words short. any more and you might feel some waterworks.
“for the sake of them, how about we work together?” he doesn’t break eye contact with you. of course he doesn't. “you tell me about aether, and i tell you about kaveh. it’s a win-win situation for both, don’t you think?”
pinching yourself on your hand, a sharp pain resonates through the surface. realizing that this is not a horrible nightmare, you stare at him in disbelief.
you had to think about this very carefully. if you accept his proposal, it’ll give you a higher chance of helping aether, and you’d do anything to make him happy. on the other hand, you’ll have to be in close contact with your ex-boyfriend, the same guy who dumped you with a lousy excuse of ‘you need to focus on yourself.’
what would you tell your friends? oh, i’m working with my ex-boyfriend so aether can get together with kaveh, and have a great relationship together! what an absurd thing to say.
it is a frustrating predicament but the answer was clear to you.
“fine.”
and you want to punch him when his smile grows.
₊˚ ♡ masterlist | previous + next.
synopsis; when your friend aether calls for help in his budding crush on his senior kaveh, you're forced to confront your ex-boyfriend by means of playing cupid.
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Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 4
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤
All OC Characters belong to me
Joe grunted as his text message to Kiyana went unanswered for another day. “Gotta be Josh’s punk ass.” He muttered, throwing his phone onto the couch next to him. It’s been six months since he had Kiyana in his bed and he was feening for more.
He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he remembered how tight she felt wrapped around him. How intoxicating her moans sounded as she moaned in his ear . “Fuck” He whispered as he felt his pants grow tighter. He groaned and opened his eyes. “Fuck.” he muttered again, grabbing his phone and sending Kiyana another text message.
“Baby, when the last time you had some dick?” Kiyana choked on her lunch and glared at Samara as she reached for her cup of soda.
“Girl what?” Kiyana asked. Samara shrugged.
“You so wound up. That’s exactly what we’re doing this weekend. Getting you some dick.. Grade A dick.”
“Can you stop saying dick?!” Kiyana hissed. “I do not need any of my coworkers over hearing this conversation.” Kiyana looked around, grateful that they were seated towards the back of the cafeteria and only one person was near them but he had on headphones. Samara had shown up to the hospital on Kiyana’s first day to have lunch with her and to hear about her day out with Josh and the boys.
“I’m just saying.” Samara shrugged again with a smirk on her face. “Last person you had sex with was Joe, right?” Kiyana nodded.
“Oh speaking of Joe. He texted me again.”
“Did you respond?” Kiyana shook her head and Shrugged.
“What was I supposed to say?”
“Oh, big daddy Joe. I need you and that dick.” Samara said playfully, batting her eyelashes at Kiyana and laughed loudly, ducking the french fry that Kiyana threw her way.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Kiyana and Samara looked towards the person and both of their jaws dropped open causing him to laugh a bit. “I just wanted to introduce myself.” He said, his eyes never leaving Kiyana’s. “I’m Elijah but everyone calls me Eli. You the new labor and delivery nurse right?” Kiyana nodded, her mouth going dry when he flashed her a grin. “Nice to finally meet you. See you around.” He said, giving her a nice once over before biting his lip and walking away from them.
“Fuck what I said about Joe.” Samara said, eyes wide as she and Kiyana watched Elijah walk away from them. “If you don’t ride that man six ways to Sunday… I will.”
Josh let out a growl when he saw Shanté waiting outside by his rental. He knew it was too good to be true. He could have swore her crazy ass had got sent back down to NXT but here she was, wearing a customized YEET shirt that had “MRS. USO” on the back.
“Bruh, you trippin’” He muttered. Standing as far away from her as possible. “Whatchu want?” He looked around to see if there were any lingering fans around. He did not need any picture of him and Shanté hitting social media.
“I miss you.” She pouted and Josh rolled his eyes. “C’mon Josh. Those four months meant something to you too.”
“I didn't,” he said bluntly. “We had sex that’s it.” Shante rolled his eyes not believing what he was saying.
“Josh, come on! You were so mad that I went out with Theory.”
“Nah” He shook his head., “I was mad that Kiyana was being a bitch and refusing to bring the boys to see me because we were fighting and I took it out on you. I don’t give a damn about you and Austin.” Shante furrowed her eyebrows.
“What?”
Josh sighed. “It was nothing but sex Shanté. Yeah I said some shit that I shouldn’t of said. But I never wanted to be with you.” He shrugged, not caring if it came off mean. He was sick and tired of popping up everywhere. “It was just sex.” He repeated, and as expected Shanté marched up to him and smacked him in his face.
“I’m happy Kiyana divorced you, you piece of shit” She glared at him before ripping her shirt over her head and throwing it in a nearby trash can. Not caring that she was now walking around in her bra.
“You and everyone else.” He muttered before climbing into his rental and driving towards the hotel.
Kiyana fell backwards onto her bed. She was beyond exhausted. She closed her eyes and sighed. She would have to get used to this feeling, no longer a stay at home mom or a wife. She was almost asleep when he phone dinged with a notification,
ElijahDaniels has requested to follow you.
Kiyana bit her lip as she scrolled through his instagram account.
This man was too fine for his own good. She accepted his follow request and immediately received a DM from him.
ElijahDaniels: those your kids? They look just like u. KiyanaJackson_: yeah and thank you, lol. You’re the only person to ever say that. ElijahDaniels: i aint know you was married tho. Tell you husband my bad lmao. KiyanaJackson_: divorced actually. ElijahDaniels: good KiyanaJackson_ good? Lol ElijahDaniels: yeah, now i can get to know u better. ElijahDaniels: see u tomorrow ❤️
Mr Elijah Daniels MD 😉... our girl KiKi is back in the game!
(Joe is coming, i promise.)
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤
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give into things i (dont) want to [na jaemin]
academic rival! (yandere ish) prev! big ego!Jaemin x reader, hints of library worker!math major!Jungwoo x reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Warnings: mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, masterbation, forcing??, implied slut shaming, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 Word Count: 2.2k Summary: You learn about academic rival!Jaemin's biggest secret. © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.
Jaemin never viewed it as a competition, the rivalry between you and him. It wasn't about outdoing you. More than anything, he yearned for your attention. With time, he faced a truth he couldn't escape: he was deeply, hopelessly in love with you. He adored that confident smirk you'd wear whenever you believed you had the upper hand. The way you'd toss your hair back as you raced to claim your favorite study spot in the library, ensuring he couldn't get there first. Something about you got him filled with excitement.
But for you, every interaction was tinged with rivalry. You hate him so much. With his stoic façade and that penetrating, icy stare, he stood apart. You've always had a distaste for those who appeared too perfect, and Jaemin epitomized that to a tee. Not only was he the top student at your school, but he was also incredibly handsome, rich and popular. The young boy wants to be a surgeon when he grows up. It's almost laughably cliché, like a scene from a cheesy rom-com. Boys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be his.
Senior year of high school was poised to be the most pivotal year of your lives. The first significant exam loomed just after your 18th birthday. You don't regret skipping your birthday celebration, as securing the top score and outperforming Jaemin took precedence in your mind. It’s more important to stay on top, you thought to yourself.
You’re sitting at your favorite spot in the library, a secluded spot framed by expansive windows. You love to sit there because it's hidden and private. The sun rays from the windows fall on your cheeks, as you tap your pen lightly on your notebook. You stare intensely at a specific problem from a past lecture.
“To tackle this problem, one common approach is to use the residue theorem. Consider the contour that is a semicircle in the upper half-plane, C, which is composed of the real line segment from −R to R and the semicircular arc of radius R in the upper half-plane, where R is a large positive real number.” You turned around, confronted by the insufferable smirk you knew all too well. Jaemin is standing right behind you with his hands behind his back.
“Nice try, Jaemin. I don’t need help from a pretentious prick like you.” You refocus on your problem sheet, doing your utmost to block out his irksome presence.
“You just looked like you were struggling so much.” You brush off his comments. They hold no weight for you now. He'd thrown every insult at you, calling you every name in the book, and over time, you learned not to take them to heart. It was wiser to remain unfazed by the persistent negativity, or at the very least, to appear so.
“I’m not listening to whatever you’re trying to say.” You slipped your headphones back on, signaling your intent to shut him out.
"Well, happy late birthday, loser." he remarks before retreating to his usual spot. He always chooses the table adjacent to yours, separated by a sizable bookshelf that obstructs his line of sight. But he'd subtly shift a few books, creating small gaps that allowed him to sneak glimpses of you, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t catch him in the act. He could observe you engrossed in your studies for hours on end.
You have always been really pretty. Sometimes, when you would scratch your legs, making your skirt ride up higher, or when you would unbutton your shirt low enough for your cleavage to be exposed, he would unbuckle his pants, bring out his painfully hard dick, and jerk off to the sight of your delicate body like no tomorrow. He would only be able to bring himself to do such sinful acts in the late hours when only you and he remained in the library.
Occasionally, when you would step away to use the restroom, Jaemin would quickly approach your desk and steal some of your personal items, ensuring he discreetly returned them to easily spotted locations the very next day. His favorite item to steal would be your cherry flavored chapstick. You never thought it was odd how your personal items would vanish, only to reappear by the base of your desk the following day.
It was embarrassing to him, truly. It felt pathetic to be so smitten with someone who calls him a loser, an arrogant snob, someone who would likely never see him in a romantic light.
-
For as long as Jaemin had been aware of you, you'd mostly been a solitary figure, steering clear of the limelight. A complete loner. During breaks, Mr. Johnny Suh from English Literature appeared to be your sole confidante, as you eagerly exchanged thoughts about your recent reads. Your eyes always lit up with passion when discussing a book's turning points. Occasionally, Jaemin would interject himself into your discussions, eager to catch your gaze. "Such a teacher's pet," you'd silently muse whenever he did that.
But recently, Jaemin noticed a new figure entering your orbit. Your growing closeness with the new library employee, Kim Jungwoo, had him curious about its origins. Jungwoo, a math major from the town's renowned university, and coincidentally good friends with Jaemin’s older brother, Jaehyun.
Always working the closing shifts, Jungwoo often assisted you with your math homework. In return, you'd stay late to help him tidy the bookshelves. Jungwoo, the comedian that he is, often left you bursting into giggles with his endless jokes. On occasions when you felt uneasy walking home alone, Jungwoo offered to walk you home, even though his apartment was on the opposite side of town.
It was clear that it all enraged him extremely. Jaemin is extremely jealous. He detested how Jungwoo would sit beside you in the library to help you with your homework, obstructing his view of you through the gaps of the bookshelf. Jungwoo would keep an eye on your desk whenever you had to use the bathroom.
—
Jungwoo had invited you over to his apartment for dinner, and you presumed it was a date. Your excitement was palpable. Over the recent months, you had developed a crush on him. He was the epitome of a gentleman, brilliantly intelligent, humble and undeniably attractive. Always, treating you with the utmost respect.
As you neared what you believed to be his door, you quickly check your reflection in a compact mirror, touching up your makeup and hair for the hundredth time. Taking a deep breath, you then pressed his doorbell.
In a swift moment, his door opened wide. "Y/N, you're right on time." Jungwoo greets you with a smile, ushering you into his apartment and gently shutting the door behind you.
"I brought your favorite snacks," you mentioned, just as he enveloped you in a warm embrace.
As the evening unfolded, you and Jungwoo conversed for hours on a myriad of topics. He cocooned you in blankets and played your favorite tunes. Yet, you sensed something amiss with him; he appeared somewhat distant, as though something weighed on his mind.
“I feel like you’re holding back on something. Something that’s bothering you.” you voiced, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension.
“I’m all ears. You can tell me anything.” You remind him. He scratches his head before taking a deep breath.
“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you. The exact reason why I asked you to come over.” He starts. “Since people have been complaining about lost items at the library, I was assigned to watch over some security footage…” He paused, letting the silence stretch.
“And?” you prompted, eager for him to proceed. “It’s Jaemin… I watched him beat his dick to you on the security footage… I think…” You're completely taken aback. The words don't seem to compute. Surely, you would have noticed if anything of the sort had occurred. You simply did not believe what you’re hearing.
“I’m not totally sure since the footage is not of the best quality… But it seems like he’s watching you in between gaps of books on the bookshelf… And it would happen often, like… every other day and it would only happen when you’re there.” Jungwoo continued. He finally meets your gaze. The depth of concern in his eyes reveals just how troubled he is by the situation.
“There is also footage of him stealing your items whenever you leave your desk.” You had often pondered why, since spending time with Jungwoo at the library, your items never went missing or were left behind like it always did previously.
“I never had the opportunity to tell you this because I always felt like he was watching us. Sorry for not telling you about this earlier.” He pulls his arms around you in a comforting hug.
“Please, Y/N. Be careful. I can help you get a restraining order on him. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Your face is buried in his chest.
“Jaemin can be dangerous, especially if his ego gets hurt. I've known him since he was just a baby in diapers. Please trust me, Y/N.” Although uncertainty lingers about the whole situation, you trust Jungwoo. You take him at his word, believing he has no reason to deceive you.
—
It's been two weeks since you discovered Jaemin's unsettling perverted behavior. The library hasn't seen you since; the memories are just too unnerving. At school, you stopped talking to Mr. Suh. You refuse to put yourself in any situation that might lead to an encounter with Jaemin. Instead, you've done your best to sidestep him, believing it to be the wisest course of action for the time being. Hopefully it will keep you safe for now.
It did not take long for Jaemin to pick up on the unusual habits of yours. Jaemin's anger is palpable. Something prompted your avoidance, and he's had his suspicions from the start. In his mind, it had to be because of Jungwoo. Who did Jungwoo think he was, effortlessly pulling you closer while Jaemin, ever so impeccable, felt sidelined despite harboring feelings for you all these years? It all seemed too orchestrated. He has to do something about it, he thinks and lets his anger completely take over.
As you make your way home from school, nearing a narrow alleyway, a sudden sound catches your attention: "Why haven't you been at the library? Struggling to keep up with me?" Jaemin's voice caught you off guard as he stood casually in front of you, hands nestled in his pockets. Nervously, you tugged away your earphones, a look of unease evident on your face. The library had always been your sanctuary. Jaemin couldn't help but wonder if Jungwoo was the reason for your absence.
"I... um... I have somewhere… uhm… to be," you stammered, attempting to move past him, but he obstructed your exit, moving awfully close to you.
“Why have you been so nervous lately? You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?.” Jaemin says with an amused smile. ”You’ve always called me names. Pretending to be so cool. Now you can’t even look at me without shaking to your core.” he continues.
“It’s Jungwoo isn’t it? You like to play innocent but you’re not. You like playing around with older guys, don’t you Y/N? I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to shoot your shot with mr. Suh." Jaemin's voice pierces the silence, sending a chill down your spine. "I... I don't know what you mean… We’re just friends." you respond, your voice betraying a hint of panic.
“You’re the worst liar, Y/N.” he says he pins you to the brick wall, holding a tight grip on your wrist. Jealousy was written all over his face. “Jaemin, please. What are you doing?” you plead to him. Terror gripped you. The menacing darkness in his eyes seemed to penetrate your very soul.
Jaemin swiftly put his lips on yours, pulling you into a deep and lustful kiss. Tears wells your eyes as you desperately try to release yourself from his strong grip. This feels wrong. So wrong.
Jaemin pulls back from the kiss to search your eyes. He recognizes that expression instantly - the look of defeat. The anguish that twisted your expression only seemed to fuel his satisfaction. He could tell he was causing discomfort, and your reactions confirmed it for him.
He goes in for another lustful kiss to then break away from it again. Jaemin sought your gaze, firmly grasping your face until you were compelled to meet his self-assured, lustful eyes. With each passing moment, his sense of relief grew, sensing your surrender. He could feel the weight of your defeat and the shame of realizing you were powerless against it. This was it. He had you exactly where he wanted you. Perhaps it had been a competition all along, and he had emerged victorious.
#yandere nct#yandere jaemin#yandere nct jaemin#kpop nct#nct fanfic#nct yandere#nct jaemin#nct na jaemin#jaemin#jaemin yandere#nct jaemin yandere#jaemin x reader#jaemin smut#na jaemin x reader#jaemin hard hours#nct hard hours#nct x reader#nct smut#nct#nct dream#yandere nct dream#nct dream yandere#yandere kpop
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Hob always thought dream, his friend destruction’s older brother, was so gorgeous but he doubted dream ever noticed him. He was just destruction’s friend, and dream was so much older and more elegant. But he always had a smile and a kind word for hob, and sometimes he would talk to him about art and books and movies. Then dream goes off to college and disappears for a while.
Fast forward about ten years and destruction decides he is tired of his parents’ shit. He cuts himself off and moves in…with his big brother dream, who estranged himself years ago.
Suddenly hob finds himself going over to the brothers’ shared apartment all the time and there is dream, grown up and the loveliest man hob has ever seen. He’s so smart and even taller now, and he has such a sense of confidence and power now that he’s living on his own. And he is such a good big brother, encouraging destruction to be an art major and pursue his dreams.
Soon, dream and hob are close as well, and destruction encourages it, with a funny little smirk whenever he catches dream offering hob a ride, or whenever hob makes dinner for three.
When hob gets kicked out of his place, dream doesn’t hesitate to invite him to come live with them too.
Hob’s crush is back full force. And he feels so stupid—he’s a virgin and he knows dream dates beautiful, interesting and experienced people. He’d never go for someone like hob…
Until one day, hob forgets to lock the door when he’s showering and dream comes in and gets an eye full of hob, ass, thighs, dick and tits—everything. and his eyes go molten with want. He quickly recovers and apologizes and leaves but hob is suddenly full of hope.
Not two weeks later, destruction goes out of town for the weekend, leaving them alone. It’s so nice. Dream cooks. They watch a movie and split a bottle of wine, and Dream puts his arm around hob.
Then they’re kissing.
Dream asks him if he’s had sex before and hob admits he hasn’t. But he desperately wants to.
Dream just smiles at him, lays him down and fingers him until he’s crying into the couch cushions.
This is such a wonderful idea!!! I fully and completely adore the idea of Destruction matchmaking Hob and Dream. He thinks they'll be so cute together! They both deserve nice things, you know?
Hob is so nervous as his relationship with Dream finally begins. He's had a crush - well, maybe he's even been a little bit in love - on Dream for so long now. What if he fucks it all up now that he finally has what he wanted? What if he can't please Dream properly? He's a virgin, after all... but before he can spiral into a proper anxiety attack, Dream soothes him with sweet kisses and basically scrambles his brain. He's determined to make Hob’s first time good, and more than that he's determined to love him as he deserves to be loved.
When Destruction comes home from his little trip, he meets Hob in the kitchen. Hob is like... starry eyed. Standing by the fridge wearing what has to be one of Dream’s silky black pj shirts. There are definitely hickies all over his chest, and one of his nipples is red and has obviously been enthusiastically sucked. Hob is just like "dude. bro. i know you don't want to know. but holy shit."
And Destruction really doesn't want to know the details, but he's happy to slap Hob on the back. He's honestly thrilled to see two of his favourite people getting together. Just... don't tell him that Hob lost his virginity on the couch where they all hang out and watch movies, okay? 🤣 In his own bedroom later, Destruction also finds a gift from his big brother - a very fancy pair of noise cancelling headphones. It's a very nice "thank you for introducing me to Hob" gift. And when he's best man at their wedding in five or so years time, Destruction will fondly remember how he really fucking needed those headphones when Hob went from virgin to slut for Dream’s dick, but he couldn't even be mad about it <3
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HAAIIII.. erm.. could i request kurt being a creep abt reader? like reader is friends w/ kurt and kurts pathetic n awkward ugh.. maaybbee kurt coming prematurely n sum degradation? :p LOVE YOU!!
I combined these two hopefully that's okay
notes: GUYS I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING DEAD 😿😿😿 I just quit my job and then got a new one that kinda requires more work so I haven't had much privacy to work on anything, I also just completely lost my ability to write for some reason??? I've had horrible writer's block but I'm not quitting anytime soon so don't worry 😼
♡ some degradation, premature ejaculation, kurt being kinda creepy, the reader is a little silly 😺, overstim, kind of abrupt ending sorry guys 🫤 ♡
Kurt was your best friend, so of course you stuck around him as much as you could. It was a completely normal attachment, so who did it really affect if you made an alt account to watch his streams? It gave him that dopamine he needed to see a new viewer, so you saw it as an act of kindness.
Though he was your best friend, he was a little creepy at times, and you're pretty sure you saw one of your favorite shirts that went missing a few days ago in the background of one of his videos. His gaze always lingered for uncomfortably long, especially if it was particularly hot outside and you were wearing less clothing than usual, but he was cute, so you gave him a pass.
That was until you started to hear him talk about you while you were…roleplaying as a different person in his chat. He started out saying casual things, you were hot, you had nice hands, etc. And it definitely turned you on to think about him being down bad for you. It almost completely changed when, during one of these streams, he had a very obvious boner while he was talking about you, to which you definitely rubbed one out.
The minute he ended the stream, you started to think of a plan. You had to fuck that man. The next time you saw him, you went all in with the touching. You sat in the passenger seat as he talked about something random to his chat with about three viewers, slowly sliding your hand over and resting on his thigh. He glances down at it, confused, especially as you join the conversation casually, acting like nothing is happening.
The next time you do it, it's when the two of you stop to get food from a food truck. Kurt went to get it while you sat with the live stream, but before he left, you ran a hand over his shoulder. He stared at you for a second, eyes slightly wide, before he got out of the car.
At the end of the day, you decide to hang out at his place. You were slowly growing more frustrated, none of your little hints working, though you were more frustrated at yourself for thinking they would work in the first place. You stand, coming up behind Kurt and putting your hands on his shoulders as he sits in his gaming chair. He's slightly startled, but pushes his headphones off and smiles up at you.
“Kurt, we need to fuc- TALK. We need to talk.” You say to him, and he raises an eyebrow. You continue. “I know about your..feelings. I've heard you, I've seen the way you look at me.”
Kurt turns red, an expression you've never seen on his face, his eyes wide. “W-what are you talking about?”
You stare at him before going over to his pillow, lifting it and yanking your stolen shirt out from under it. He stands up, nervous that you're angry about it.
“I don't- I have no idea what that is.” He says, very obviously lying. You move closer to him, tossing the shirt down.
“Kurt, you're a fucking freak.” He blushes even more and he barely knows how to react, but you glance down and see that he's getting hard. “You're into that?” You ask, moving even closer to him, expecting him to back up, but he doesn't, he just bites his bottom lip slightly, closing his eyes for a second before staring at you with an almost needy look.
“I heard all of the things you said about me in those streams. I know what you want me to do to you..” You trail off.
“Really?” He asks. You nod, before sliding a hand down to the waistband of his pants, testing the waters. He doesn't stop you, staring at you with still wide eyes. You realize you're probably gonna have to do all of the work, so you lean in and kiss him, to which he automatically reacts, kissing you back. His legs almost buckle, and you push him back into his chair, straddling him. You're not certain if his gaming chair can handle the weight of two grown men, but there was only one way to find out.
You keep kissing him, and his hands move between your waist and the arm rests of the chair, not knowing what to do with them. Your lips move to his neck, and he lets out a desperate whine, almost suspiciously strained, until you look down and see the front of his pants slowly getting a dark spot. He looks at you, panting heavily as you stare back at him.
“Seriously?” You ask, deadpan. His face flushes, trying to find the words to apologize before you lean closer, kissing his neck again. “I barely even touched you.” You say lowly, your hand pulling his cock out of his pants, feeling it twitch from the sensitivity as he whimpers.
You slowly stroke him, his cum being used as lube as he moans and writhes underneath you. He looks up at you, his lips slightly parted as he tries to buck up into your hand. You speed up, kissing his neck again until he moans loudly, his hand gripping onto your wrist tightly, shooting his load across your shirt and hand. He pants heavily, head falling back with some of his hair stuck to his forehead.
You back off of him, standing, before unzipping your own pants, as he gives you an exhausted but very excited look.
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