#all things considered I think he turned out pretty damn good
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maybank5 · 1 day ago
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞
pairing ⤜ yn x jj
summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.
a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!
song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote
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The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.
The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.
Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.
The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.
He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.
The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.
He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.
"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"
"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.
You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.
JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.
JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.
"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."
"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.
JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.
And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.
Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.
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reamnosart · 9 months ago
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IK PUPPET V1
He’s very rushed bc I was running out of time to actually go the con. Right now you can move his head left and right, bend the arm joints and bend his hand/ fingers
Everything is sewed by hand, duct taped or hot glued. I’m gonna take a break from working on it since the con is over, but I’m going go back in and adjust him so he looks more professional. This includes redoing the fabric under his torso, stitching parts of the tie and suit that are currently glued or taped, filling out the arm and adding some sort of lights to his head
The entire thing is built around a five foot pipe, the base of everything else being foam and chicken wire. The suit is open in the back so I hold his spine with my left hand and control the arm with my right. All the joints are abominations comprised of key rings, yarn and duct tape.
I’ve never worked on a project like this outside of making simple masks or sewing simple details onto preexisting clothes, so there’s a lot of things I’m looking to improve on.
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years ago
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#just did my annual checkup on what my ex-friend cal (a horrible human being) is doing now because i remain convinced that he’s going to#murder someone one day and i’m going to have to call round all our old high school friends and be like ‘see i told you so’#and tell me why he has a really beautiful girlfriend. like. WHAT#when i tell you this man is unwashed and unkempt and has serial killer eyes. he’s HORRENDOUS#even if he didn’t look like a walking mugshot the things that come out of his mouth are repellent#what the hell has he been doing. what is GOING ON#unless he’s had some sort of glow up both in appearance and personality that i cannot see because he never posts; i can only come up with#two explanations#1) he’s paying her bills (extremely possible. he’ll do literally anything for a crumb of pussy but also he is really good at math and IT#and i think he has a pretty decent tech support job now)#or 2) she is clinically insane. or thinks she can fix him. which amounts to the same thing#honestly the amount of girls i have seen who thought he was a great guy is too damn high considering what a scumbag he is#he changes his interests and personality in order to get with a girl and will do literally anything for her and then the emotional abuse#starts. i have seen it over and over. i’m pretty sure i was the prototype for his MO!!!#anyway the temptation to message her asking why she’s doing charity work and then turn off my phone is too damn high lmao#this man literally looks like a mouldy foot; meanwhile her profile photo is a selfie she took with a hot male celebrity#who i didn’t recognise at first and was like ‘oh maybe that’s her ex boyfriend’ because IT MADE SENSE. i could see that happening!!#she’s that hot. WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING WITH CAL#thanks for listening to my spiral if you did#personal
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seonghwaddict · 7 months ago
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
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it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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jarofstyles · 2 months ago
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Appetency
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Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕
Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings
Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.
WC- 8.5k
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“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.
Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 
Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"
“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”
"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 
His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."
“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 
“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”
Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 
“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.
“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 
Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 
Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.
"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"
The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 
Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 
Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 
He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 
It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.
Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.
"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.
“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “
The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.
He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."
“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.
Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"
His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.
“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 
Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 
Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.
"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 
He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.
"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."
“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 
She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.
Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.
“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”
Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."
“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.
Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 
That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 
He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”
"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”
“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”
Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 
"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.
The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.
Aka, spending time with her. 
“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”
The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."
Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 
He’d learn eventually.
“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”
Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."
Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 
“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 
The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.
Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.
Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 
"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.
Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 
“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”
Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.
“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”
"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."
Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 
Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 
"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."
——-
Y/N was suspicious. 
Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.
Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 
“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”
"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 
He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.
“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”
Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.
“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 
Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.
Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 
Good thing he was willing to work for this. 
"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."
Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.
He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 
"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”
Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 
Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.
Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”
Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 
The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 
She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.
Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 
He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”
Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 
"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 
With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.
“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.
Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 
"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."
“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”
Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 
He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."
Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 
"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."
It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 
Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 
It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 
It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 
“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”
Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.
The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.
"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."
She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 
“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”
Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 
He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."
“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”
Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 
“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.
“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”
Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.
He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 
He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.
Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."
Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.
“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”
Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”
He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”
——-
—— 
Harry was coming over again. 
It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 
One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 
That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.
His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 
She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 
He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.
Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 
He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 
“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.
Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”
Like clockwork.
Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..
When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 
“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.
Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.
Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..
“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 
Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 
Or that she didn’t have those same urges.
Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.
“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 
Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”
Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 
Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.
Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 
“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.
Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 
"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"
“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 
Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.
"Can I stay over tonight?"
It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 
“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.
Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"
He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 
“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”
Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"
“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 
It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 
“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”
Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."
“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.
"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 
Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.
"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.
“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”
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sp4ceboo · 7 months ago
Text
Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader
A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea
tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie
wc: 3.9k
headcanons for this universe
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When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.
Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.
As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.
You wished he hated you.
That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.
Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.
It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.
Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed you was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.
During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.
It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.
You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.
The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.
Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.
Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.
You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.
So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.
To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.
Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.
Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.
Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.
There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.
Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.
Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.
‘What are you doing, wife?’
Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.
‘So now I am of concern to you?’
Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.
Something clicks into place.
Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.
It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.
Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?
Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.
Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.
Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -
Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.
He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’
After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.
‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’
You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.
Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.
You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.
You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.
He believes he will love you, if you will let him.
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Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.
Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.
When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.
‘I owe you an explanation.’
You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.
‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’
Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.
‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.
He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’
Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.
Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.
‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.
He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’
A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’
You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.
‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’
‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.
Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.
You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.
The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.
You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.
‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.
You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.
The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.
Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.
He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.
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spencerreidenjoyer · 3 months ago
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giddy up | spencer reid x reader
Spencer gets shot in the leg. You help him feel better about it.
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wc: 1.7k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: s5/jesus hair reid, established r/s, reader and spencer are both switches, riding, grinding, frottage, porn without plot, fluff and smut actually
a/n: was thinking about writing jesus reid/crutches reid for a long time and this was the only thing that came to mind. I am only a little sorry about it. (also find this fic on ao3!)
Of all the things Spencer could complain about after having been shot in the leg, not being able to fuck you properly is something you definitely did not consider.
You’d been worried sick when Penelope had called you, when Spencer had woken up after surgery. You were the first person he’d called for.
No unnecessary pressure on the leg, the doctor had said. Spencer was to use crutches at all times until the doctor cleared him. You don’t remember the rest of the doctor’s instructions, at least not now, when Spencer’s doing much better. He’s just been cleared to walk off his crutches, but he still has a slight limp in his step and starts to wince when he’s on his feet for too long. He hasn’t healed completely, but it’s enough to put you at ease being around Spencer, not having to worry excessively about him. 
While you know he’s grateful to have only gotten shot in the leg and not somewhere more risky, Spencer’s got a mouth on him, which leads you to where you are right now:
“I’m so tired of not being able to fuck you,” Spencer groans. 
You’re lounging in bed with him when he says this, and you whip your head around to look at him, shocked at his sudden admission. “Damn. What’s the matter, baby?”
“I just–” Spencer huffs in the middle of his sentence, like he needs to find the right words. It blows his hair out of his face. It’s cute, but what he says next is filthy in comparison: “I miss fucking you. Properly. Not just handjobs.”
“I thought you liked my handjobs, babe.” You pout, pretending to seem upset. “And my mouth.”
“I do!” Spencer is quick to correct you, insisting, “I like all of that, but it just doesn’t feel the same.”
“As to when you’re buried inside of me?” You whisper, resting your hand on his chest, giggling when Spencer turns red. While he was no longer the innocent, virginal nerd you’d met him as, sex talk still flusters him from time to time, and you love to fluster him.
“Baby,” Spencer whines at your teasing. “I’m serious. I miss making you feel good too.”
“You’re good with your hands, though,” you swoon, mind drifting. “And your mouth. Really good with your mouth.”
You think about Spencer asking you to sit on his face for the first time. Neither of you were exactly used to the position, Spencer typically preferring to be between your legs when he went down on you. But the way his tongue was expertly flicking at your clit, slipping into your hole, making you feel so good until you were making a mess of his face, your slick everywhere–
“Hey, focus.” Spencer taps your cheek, and you puff your cheeks. “I want you to feel good too.”
“I know, pretty,” you hum, letting your thumb trace his jaw. “I think I have an idea.”
Spencer quirks a brow in attentive curiosity. You, getting up from laying next to him, swing your leg across his hips. You sit down squarely on his crotch. 
Spencer’s eyes widen. “O-Oh.”
“Let me make you feel good, baby,” you coo. Spencer nods hurriedly. 
Spencer looks up at you with wide eyes, roaming all over your body but unable to leave it. He watches you roll your hips into his crotch. He lets out a pitiful whine. You feel him hardening between your legs already. You grind against him like this, solely intent on working him up. You know this kind of pressure isn’t enough for Spencer, pleasure dulled between layers of fabric, so you aren’t surprised when Spencer asks, “More, please?”
You smile. “Poor thing.”
“Please, darling,” he exhales. 
“Okay,” you hum, climbing off of him so you can get your shorts and underwear off. His eyes are so big as he stares at you, all of you, like he’s still surprised that he gets to see you undress. You laugh, and snake your hands into the waistband of his pyjama pants. You push them down, until his hard cock springs up, bobbing against his stomach. You meet Spencer’s gaze, before pressing your cunt to his cock.
You both gasp, feeling each other’s warmth. You’re so wet you know you must be making a mess of Spencer right about now. You don’t slip him inside of you just yet, instead grinding your bare pussy against Spencer’s length. You can’t imagine how it feels for him, but you see the way his face is scrunched up in pleasure – what you’re giving him is not entirely enough. You know he misses sinking into your wet heat, and you’re just giving him a taster, sliding his cock along your slick folds, pressed against your leaking hole.
“Spencer,” you moan, rocking your hips harder. It feels so good, Spencer’s hardness against your cunt, the tip of his cock nudging at your clit every time you press your hips down. It’s too much yet not enough, both you and Spencer needing that sweet relief, the feeling of his cock pressing into you. Still, you want to drag it out for him, and you grind your pussy against him some more. “You feel so good, baby.”
“It would feel better if you let me fuck you, darling,” Spencer grunts with gritted teeth. You can tell he’s desperate, his hands antsy by his sides, nails digging into his palms. 
“Mm, not yet,” you hum, feeling a little bratty, enjoying the feeling of building tension, growing arousal between the two of you, between your legs. It’s heaven grinding against Spencer like this.
And maybe you’re too wet, or Spencer is too convincing, because by some act of God, when you roll your hips down against him again, the head of his cock is breaching your entrance, and you moan when you feel his tip pressed inside of you. “Oh–!”
“Fuck,” Spencer moans, long and drawn-out. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
You can’t blame him, since you’d put a stop to sex with Spencer as he recovered. You’d only started giving him handjobs and blowjobs once you were sure an orgasm wouldn’t break him – “I promise an orgasm won’t hurt. It’ll be fine. I’m a doctor.” “You’re not a medical doctor, idiot.” – even then, penetrative sex was off the table.
Until now, as Spencer’s cock pushes deeper inside of you, and the rolling of your hips only serves to remind you just how good Spencer feels. You’ve missed this, his thick cock pressed inside of you, splitting you in half, filling you up until you don’t know anything other than his name. 
“Spence,” you whine. “Feels good.”
“I know, darling,” Spencer groans. “You feel tighter than I remember. Wetter too.” 
He sounds so nonchalant saying these things, and that only serves to drive you more insane. When did he get so confident, so cocky? You want to say something witty but you can’t find the words. Spencer just continues, almost bored to the untrained ear, but you know Spencer’s barely keeping himself together, “So, are you going to ride me or not?”
You grumble, your thighs flexing as you push yourself up, shifting from a rolling, grinding motion to bounce on Spencer’s cock instead. You don’t think you’ve done this before with Spencer, always content letting him get on top, so the new angle makes the both of you a little crazy. He moans, and so do you.
Like this, Spencer’s cock fucks you deeper, harder, the weight of your bouncing thrusts driving him into you until you feel positively ruined. You cry out, desperate, “Spence– Oh, Spencer, oh my God–”
“You’re riding me so well, darling,” Spencer says in awe, slack-jawed. His large hands come to hold your waist, feeling you bounce on his cock, helping you with the laborious movements. “You look so fucking hot right now.”
You whine, thighs already feeling the burn, but the way Spencer’s using your weight to fuck you down onto his cock has you feeling lightheaded. You think you like the feeling, being pushed around like a warm, wet fleshlight for Spencer to fuck into. “Spence, so deep–”
“I want to fuck you so badly right now, my love,” Spencer groans. You feel his hips bucking up into you slightly, right when he pulls your ass down against him, but you know his movements are restricted because of his leg. Still, his desperation to bury himself into you is wild, and your head spins. “But I can’t, and you’re doing so good fucking yourself on my cock.”
You tremble, using all your strength to fuck yourself on his cock, sobbing because you just feel that good. Spencer’s filthy words and the intensity of it all has you weak, and you wish Spencer could just flip you over and finish the job.
“Come on, darling,” Spencer encourages, his hands squeezing your ass and your thighs. It makes you feel wanted, a desperate Spencer’s way of feeling you. “I’m so close too. You’re doing so good.”
“Spencer-!” You sob, clenching around him as you come, your orgasm wracking through your body like electricity in your veins. It’s so good, too good like this, Spencer pressed up inside you like he could split you in half. 
You’re frozen as you feel him inside, his cock twitching as he blows his load. It’s warm and wet and sticky, as you feel it drip out of you. You almost can’t believe it, feeling Spencer buried to the hilt of you after months, and you wonder why it hadn’t occurred to either of you to do this sooner. 
You whimper as your emotions rush over you, and Spencer is quick to pull you close, his lips pressed to the top of your head. “That was crazy. You’re amazing. And perfect. I love you.”
“I love you too,” you say, still a little breathless. “We should do that more.”
“Until my leg is better? Then I can fuck you the way you want,” Spencer soothes, his hand petting your hair, and that certainly sounds like a good idea.
“Yeah. But we should also just do that again some time,” you giggle, resting your head on his chest. You feel his heart pounding under your ear. “I like riding you.”
Spencer laughs heartily, a warm sound that is like music to your ears. “Giddy up, cowgirl.”
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moonlightspencie · 7 months ago
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darling, i fancy you
Description: James Potter is in his second year of university. He's with his friends, having the time of his life! His only problem... a horrible, evil, beautiful, wonderful girl who doesn't seem to return the feelings he's developing for her. His dramatics and flirtatious antics usually work. He just can't quite figure out how to hook this girl.
Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: drinking, idiots to lovers, reader is described as american in one line because what is fanfiction if not a bit of self-service on occasion
Word Count: 8.2k
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Coming into his second year of university was supposed to be fun. He was no longer jittery or nervous about classes since he’d already been there and done that for a full year. Besides, he was James Potter. Of course he had gotten down the routines like they were nothing to him. It was easy as pie. Now, as he brimming with confidence, he was looking forward to seeing old friends, and meeting new ones. It seemed bright and exciting: and it was, so far! 
Until his second day.
James walked into his final Thursday afternoon class and sat in a seat near the front. He might enjoy goofing off here and there, but he’d be damned if he was going to do any less than stellar in his classes. The class filled fairly quickly, seats being taken all around him. He barely noticed when a girl sat in the seat next to him as he pulled out a notebook and a pen. Until he turned with a small smile that melted off his face as quickly as it arrived. 
“Great,” he grumbled under his breath. 
She looked in the direction of the utterance curiously, blissfully unaware that one of the last few open seats, and the one she just had to choose, was right next to James Potter. 
“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, shaking her head. “I suppose you’re going to try to get me to convince my roommate to fall in love with you again, yeah?”
“Not after last time.”
She scoffed a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because you’re selfish and don’t care about the happiness and general wellbeing of others.”
“Right. As if your happiness should be my number one priority,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
James turned his head to her abruptly, feeling quite put off that she’d say such a thing. Him, insufferable? He thought it might do her some good to do a bit of self reflection, and had told her as much last year. It didn’t do any good, obviously, considering she was still just as irritating as ever. 
“She’s dating someone anyway. So you’re out of luck,” she said, seeming quite pleased with herself. 
James was annoyed again. “Dating someone? Great. That could’ve been me if you weren’t so horrible, and now I’ve got to wait until they inevitably break up to—”
“She’s dating a girl, so good luck with that plan of yours, Potter.”
James blinked in surprise. He supposed he never exactly saw Lily with a boy before. But… But he liked her so she couldn’t possibly be interested in girls. What a silly notion, he thought. 
“You’re sure?”
She stared at him for a moment. “Uh… yeah. Pretty sure.”
James hummed in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know until summer,” she shrugged. “She came out to me shortly before she told me she’d been asked out by her current girlfriend.”
“How odd.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression. 
His eyes widened. “No! Not like that. I just… I didn’t realize. I just assumed—”
“Careful how you phrase things, maybe,” she said, looking at him a little suspiciously. 
He nodded quickly. “Right.”
He fell silent for a moment. A few blissful seconds that she basked in. Until he opened his mouth again.
“I just…” he said, then sighed. He thought for a couple seconds. “I don’t think I’ve ever not been able to win someone over before. And this seems pretty bleak for me, doesn’t it?” 
She snorted a laugh, nodding. “Yeah. More than bleak, I’d say.”
James smiled a little, then internally scolded himself. There was no reason to laugh at a joke a girl like her made. How terrible. He was better than that. He straightened in his seat, determined to ignore her now that he really had no use for her with his precious Lily too far out of reach for even him to pull in, all things considered. He pouted for a bit, feeling terribly sorry for himself as the class started. He took his notes, of course, but not without sighing every five minutes or so. 
“Can you cut that out?” 
James looked offended again, glancing at the girl. 
“Cut what out?” he whispered back. 
“The constant sighing. It’s irritating.”
“I’m upset.”
She rolled her eyes, going back to taking notes. He fell silent, but only for a few seconds. 
“You try finding out the girl you’re in love with is gay.”
“For me, that would actually work out.”
James rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Get over it,” she said after a beat. 
He glared at her, then went back to his notes. Again, really only for a few seconds. 
“Wait. Are you gay, too?”
“So what if I am? That’s not really your business, is it?” 
“I— Maybe not. But I’m curious,” James said, looking at her. 
“Stop talking.”
“I just wanna know.”
“You sound like a child,” she sighed, exasperated. “You’re distracting me.”
James gave her one more sour look before turning back to his notes. He was feeling quite annoyed now. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily ‘his business’ what her sexuality was, but he couldn’t help but be curious. Why was that his fault? He couldn’t quite figure it out. He waited until the class ended this time to turn to her again. 
“I don’t mean to intrude—”
“I’m sure you will, though,” she stated. 
James sighed. “You’re so difficult. I’m only curious. I don’t mean anything by it.”
She huffed a breath, then looked at him straight on. He raised his brows in question, hoping she might answer if he tried looking innocent enough. She shook her head. 
“It’s a bit of a rude question, you know?”
“How?” he asked, feeling a little offended. 
“It’s personal.”
“Well I—“ James started to argue, though his voice died. His eye twitched slightly as he thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay. I guess… I guess that makes sense. I just thought it was, like, knowing your hair color or something like that.”
“Personally, it’s something I usually only discuss with my friends. Not with a strange boy who I’ve only spoken to when he decided he liked my roommate.”
“That’s mean.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“It’s still mean,” James said, standing up with his bag. 
She did the same. 
“It’s honest.”
James pouted a little. “I’m only trying to make conversation.”
She looked at him for a moment, and he looked right back, his hand on the strap of his bag. He quirked a brow when she was silent for a second. 
“I’ll see you around,” she said at last, not unkindly, but definitely not in a friendly manner. 
Of course, James had to relay this ridiculous interaction to his roommates when he got back to his flat. He sprawled out on the couch, his hand flipping off the side to touch the floor and his cheek pressed against the cushions. 
“She’s evil. There’s something in her that isn’t right. I’m sure of it.”
Sirius furrowed his brow. He’d been hearing about James’s plights with this woman since last year. It always seemed that his buttons got pushed so easily by her, and Sirius couldn’t help but wonder how on earth James kept getting himself into these situations
He sighed softly, leaning back into the armchair to the left of James, a hand running through his long, dark hair before settling over his face.
 “You’ve been dramatic plenty of times before, Prongs, but this might be a new height you’ve climbed to,” Sirius said, his voice slightly muffled through his hand. 
“Mm. Not quite evil to keep that sort of thing to yourself. I don’t run around campus advertising that I’m queer,” Remus added, walking into the living room with a cup of tea. 
Remus settled on the ground near Sirius’s chair, leaning his back into the arm of it as he stretched his long legs out. He did plan on doing so on the couch, but it seemed that James had beaten him to it with his dramatics. 
“That’s not what I mean,” James groans. “It’s how she acted. I don’t care if she keeps that to herself, but she didn’t have to be so mean to me. It’s like she delights in making me feel stupid.”
Peter laughed from the chair across the way from Sirius’s. “It’s not always hard to do.”
James scowled at the boy, but before he could say something back, Sirius sighed loudly. 
“James. Just back off of the girl.”
James turned to Sirius. “What do you mean?”
“If you ignore her, she’ll ignore you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she probably finds you just as irritating as you find her,” Remus says pointedly. 
“You guys are supposed to be on my side,” James says.
His friends all exchange a look, then stare back at him. 
Sirius leans forward on his chair to come to eye-level with James. 
“James. You are like a brother to me. I love you dearly. But leave the poor girl alone before she hits you.”
James buried his face in the couch cushion and groaned loudly in protest. Maybe they were right, but he didn’t have to like it. He knew he was being dramatic and probably a bit annoying, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t met someone who got under his skin so easily in a long time, and he didn’t like it. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, looking at his friends. He didn’t like to upset them, and he was afraid if he kept this up, that he might do just that. 
“You guys want to go get dinner on me?” he offered. 
They smiled, Sirius in particular shaking his head at his friend in amusement. James felt a little better then as he scrambled off the couch. 
James’s first encounter with the girl of his dreams, who he begrudgingly accepted no longer could be, happened a few days later. He walked into a café just off of campus to get a little fuel for his first essay of the semester when he saw a familiar head of red hair. His first instinct, of course, was to rush her with a smile and that classic Potter-charm of his… but then he deflated. 
There she was: the wretched girl who had stolen his dear Lily from him. He looked sour for a moment, then sighed, shrugging it off internally. He supposed that he couldn’t really be mad since he wasn’t also a girl, so Lily wouldn’t like him no matter what. 
But if he was, he was determined he’d be very upset about the whole ordeal. 
He sat down at a table across the small coffee shop, inadvertently staring at Lily and her girlfriend. He had to admit: the girl she was dating was very pretty. And they did seem happy together. But it was still a little bit annoying. He hardly paid attention to someone approaching with his drink until he heard an unfortunately-familiar voice. 
“I would tell you that a picture would last longer, but I don’t think I can condone borderline-stalking my roommate,” the girl said, setting his latte down in front of him. 
He looked up at her in a bit of surprise. She just seemed to pop up everywhere. 
“What are you doing here?” he asked. 
She looked down at her apron, then back at him with a puzzled expression. 
“I— I work here?” she stated, shaking her head a bit. “Thought you may have gathered that from me bringing you your drink and wearing an apron.” 
He deadpanned, unamused. “I just didn’t expect to see you here is all. It’s like you’re everywhere.”
“It’s been like a week and half and we’ve seen each other twice,” she said, huffing a breath at his dramatics. “Anyway. Is there anything else you need, besides maybe a magazine or a blindfold?”
“Why would I need those?” he asked, immediately annoyed. 
She pointedly looked at Lily and her girlfriend, then back at James. He made a face of realization, then chuckled a little despite his better judgment. 
“Oh. No. I’ll stop staring, I’m just…”
She paused waiting for him to finish, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. She nodded slowly after a beat.
“Well… it’s been a pleasure as always.”
James nodded, but then he leaned forward to grab her wrist. “Wait.”
She turned around, giving him a look that told him to let go immediately. 
“Sorry,” he said quickly, dropping her wrist. “Just wanted to ask if you got that western civilization assignment done for tomorrow.” 
“Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Tuesday.”
He raised a brow. “Yeah. It’s a Tuesday-Thursday class.”
She paused, looking a little lost. “What?”
“It’s on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. The assignment is supposed to be done for tomorrow’s class.”
“You’re joking.”
James shook his head. “No. Why would I be?”
“Shit,” she sighed heavily, throwing her head back. “How hard is it to do?”
“Not hard, but it took some time.”
She groaned. “God, I feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. Just forgetful, obviously,” James laughed. 
She did not look amused. “Right. Well… Fuck. Thanks for the heads up, then.”
James looked quite pleased with himself. He actually got a ‘thank you’ out of her. He nodded quickly. 
“What would you do without me?” he smirked.
She glanced at him, looking somehow even more unimpressed. James didn’t like that look. 
“I’d have missed one class. Don’t give yourself too much credit.”
James watched her walk off, feeling annoyed once again. It’s like she couldn’t help but ruin his mood every time they talked. He sipped his latte, and suddenly felt more irritated: this might have been one of the best latte’s he’d ever had, and she just had to work there. Great. 
He kept his eyes on the girl as she walked back behind the counter, getting started on whatever task came next for her. She seemed to be making some kind of drink. He watched her as she flitted around back there easily, taking note of the way she’d occasionally scrunch her nose in a weak attempt to adjust her glasses as her hands were full. He took in every detail of her outfit that he could see from the other side of the counter: a simple black t-shirt and jeans that looked annoyingly good on her. Like it wasn’t enough to be irritating all the time, she had to be pretty, too. How was he supposed to just ignore her completely? He scoffed to himself at Sirius’s stupid advice as he sipped at his drink again.
That same thought snuck into his head as she walked into class the next day, dropping into that same seat right next to him. He took note of her slightly messy hair, and the crewneck sweatshirt that hung on her a little loosely. He looked at her nails as she pulled out her laptop, smiling a little at the baby blue that was painted on them. He liked blue quite a lot. He was in the middle of looking at the minimal makeup on her face, especially the gloss on her lips, when she just had to interrupt him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“None of your business,” he replied quite defensively.
“You’re staring at me. It feels like my business, Potter.”
He rolled his eyes. Why did she always have to be so difficult? It’s like she had fun making him feel like an idiot.
“I wasn’t staring. I was observing.”
She sighed, softly, shaking her head as she went back about her business, logging into her laptop. He tried really hard to remember what Sirius had told him and just ignore her as well as he could, but it wasn’t exactly his fault that she had a photo of herself and some guy on her computer.
“I thought you were gay?” he said curiously.
She turned her head to him slowly, and if he thought she looked at him like he was stupid before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now.
“What?” 
“I thought you said you were gay,” he clarified, though it made nothing clearer for her. He pointed at her laptop background, “but, there’s a boy with you on your computer.”
“I never said I was gay. I said it wasn’t your business if I was or not.”
“But you must not be if you have a boyfriend.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “That’s my brother, nosey. And I’m not gay.”
“Thought you said that wasn’t my business?”
“I’m going to slap you.”
“That’s what Sirius said,” James replied, though it was mostly to himself.
She snorted once. “Your friends are telling you you’re gonna get hit by someone?”
“By you,” he corrected.
Now, this piqued her interest. She looked at him curiously.
“Your friends tell you that I am going to slap you? Why?”
“I told them we don’t really get along. Sirius thinks I should just ignore you.”
“You’re doing a shit job of it,” she laughed a little.
He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit back at her. She had a nice laugh. He thought to himself that maybe he’d like to hear it more. It would certainly be better than the grating sound of her always being annoyed with him.
“Can’t help it if I’m curious.”
“You can help if you’re peering over my shoulder at my personal laptop.”
“I’d hardly call it peering. Plus you have a large screen, it’s easy to see.”
She cracked another small smile against her better judgment, and decided on ignoring him the rest of the class. It didn’t work. At all.
“So…” James started up when the professor decided on padding the rest of the class time with an ‘opportunity’ to get a headstart on the next assignment. “Did you end up finishing that assignment that was due today.”
“Clearly.”
James furrowed his brow. “Huh? How is that clear?”
“I’m a mess. I look like I just rolled out of bed, because I practically did in order to finish the assignment today before the rest of my classes. I haven’t even been in my apartment since like eight this morning.”
James still looked on in a bit of confusion, glancing over at her again, taking in her appearance. Sure, she wasn’t extremely put together, but she still looked pretty. James, ever the one to speak exactly what’s on his mind, decided on telling her that.
“I think you look really pretty today.”
She swallowed once, looking at him in a moment of mild shock. She usually wasn’t one to clam up around anyone, but she certainly was now, and James took notice.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything…”
“No. No, it isn’t that. I just…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Nevermind. Just… work on your assignment. It’s what we’re meant to be doing anyways.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry,” James nodded, feeling a little bad now that he’d apparently made her uncomfortable.
Though, as much as it was a sense of discomfort that she felt at his compliment, there was also much more to it. Not that she would ever tell him that. No, it was much worse than the normal annoyance she felt for the boy when he looked her up and down and gave her that sweet smile. It was terrible and evil and made her face a bit warm. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, his cheek smushed in his hand nearly making her smile being all the more evidence: she was developing a crush on James Potter.
James was in the process of waking up on a cold Saturday morning in early October. Usually he’d be able to pull himself out of bed somewhat easily, only really needing a good shower to get his blood pumping for the day ahead. The ‘process’ part came into play as a rare, true hangover made him feel both dizzy and like a rock stuck in bed. 
He wasn’t a stranger to a late night of drinking with his friends, or a party here and there while he was at school. Even in his highschool days, he would sometimes sneak out from under his parents’ watchful eyes with Sirius to go live it up for a night. But it rarely resulted in an actual hangover. Sometimes a headache, occasionally he’d throw up before bed, but this? This was hell on earth. He was convinced. It certainly didn’t help that he hardly remembered past drink number seven the night prior. He decided on not letting the frat boys fill his cup anymore.
After an hour of laying in bed, he finally decided that it might be time to at least try to join the world of the living. He rolled off of his mattress, shuffling into the bathroom to take a cool shower. He effectively did as much, only having to bend over the toilet bowl to empty his stomach twice! He was quite proud of himself for that, considering he felt nauseous the entirety of the shower. He stumbled back into his room, haphazardly drying off his body and hair before slipping into a sweater, jeans, and a warm coat. He slipped on his boots, grabbed his keys, and walked out the front door. He thought that maybe his favorite cafe would have something to lift his spirits and fill his now-empty stomach. He also thought that maybe a certain girl might be working. That would definitely lift his spirits.
He walked into the cafe around 11am, finding it surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon. He had started making a habit of visiting the place probably more often than he needed to. He knew the usual flow at this point.
He frowned when his favorite table was taken, and ended up dropping into a seat near the back by a window after he had ordered. He sat his order number marker on the table, and waited for a familiar face to show. He started to smile when he saw his coffee and a chocolate pastry being set in front of him, but it dropped as he looked up to see a less familiar man. He thanked him anyway, despite the fact that he was quite disappointed. He picked at his pastry, and sipped his drink, letting the carbs and caffeine make him feel a bit like a human being again after such a rough night. He decided to stick around for a while after he finished both, just sitting and thinking. He always liked being alone with his thoughts, but they seemed to flow a little better with the hum of something in the background. A cafe full of people did the trick for the day. After an hour or so of staring out the window, he decided he could use another cup of coffee.
He went to wait to order behind a small line of people, fiddling on his phone until he was finally called up to order next. A smile grew on his face when he saw who was taking orders now.
“Hi!” he said to her cheerily.
“Oh. James. Hi,” she said, a little surprised to see him. “What can I get you?”
“You weren’t here earlier. I got here a little past 11, and some guy brought me my drink.”
“Yeah. I just got in at 12. So… what do you want to drink?”
James ignored her question with another smile. “How long are you working today? Don’t you normally come in earlier?”
“Five hour shift today,” she said with a small sigh. “I just didn’t start early this time.”
“Oh. Well, it’s good you’re here now. I’d have hated to admit that I might have missed you when I saw you in class on Tuesday.”
She fought a smile at that, determined to remain irritated at him.
“Are you going to order? You’re kind of holding up the line.”
“Right!” he exclaimed suddenly, looking up at the menu as if he didn’t get the same thing every time.
“Do you just want your usual?”
James stilled at that. She knew his normal order? He smiled a bit to himself, trying not to seem too delighted at that fact. But he shook his head quickly, even though that’s exactly what he planned on getting.
“What’s your favorite drink?”
“I like the lavender oatmilk latte.”
“Lavender? In coffee?” He made a sour face.
“James,” she said, somewhat shortly as he dawdled. 
“I’ll have one of those, then.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. But if it’s gross, I’m blaming you.”
She smirked a little as she shook her head, typing in the order.
“Alright. It’s in,” she said, nodding to the side for him to get out of the way. 
“But I didn’t pay.”
“It’s on me,” she replied. But, she continued before he could think it was too sweet, “It’ll get you out of the way faster.” 
He nodded, giving her a thanks with a shy smile. He went back to his seat, expecting that same wretched boy to come back out instead of her with his drink. Though it certainly took a long time for him to do so. Just as James was looking over his shoulder to see what was taking so long, he saw that same familiar face coming towards him with a mug of coffee. He smiled up at her as she set down the mug.
“I thought you were on the register.”
“I was.”
“But you just had to come see me, right?”
She scoffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Enough out of you. I came to ask about the test on Tuesday.”
“Oh?” he asked, looking down into the coffee she brought. It didn’t look gross, at the very least, but he still wasn’t sure about lavender in his coffee.
“I can’t find my notes from two weeks ago anywhere. Do you think I could borrow yours by any chance?”
“You want to borrow my notes?”
“You can be an idiot sometimes, but you’re not stupid. Unfortunately, you are actually really smart under that…” she gestures vaguely at him. “You know. Your whole vibe.”
“Hey!” he exclaimed, pouting a little.
“It’s a compliment.”
“Still mean. I thought you Americans were supposed to be nice.”
“I think you’re thinking of Canada, but I mean it in a nice way.”
He huffed a small sigh, tilting his head as he looked up at her. She tried not to look at him for too long, sure she’d start grinning for real this time. Why did he have to be so handsome? And so annoying. And ridiculously charming. She merely quirked a brow at his silent tantrum, waiting for him to speak again.
“I guess. You can have my notes, but you have to come get them from me at my apartment.”
“You can’t just email them to me?”
He smiled. “Nope. I take ‘em on paper. You can come get them.”
“It would be easier to take a photo of them.”
“I want my roommates to have to meet the girl who hates me so much anyways. They’ve been dying to properly see you without me having to point you out across campus.”
“You talk about me a lot?” she asks with a little smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Enough,” he smiles at her brightly. “Come on. Just humor me.”
“I don’t have your address,” she argued weakly.
He laughed a bit at that. God, she was adorable when she was being difficult.
“Give me your phone, then.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to put my address in. And my phone number so I don’t always have to try to catch you here or in class when I want to talk to you.”
“Who says I want to talk to you?”
“I think you secretly like me.”
“I think you’re annoying.”
“I think you secretly like me, even though I’m annoying. You’re trying to tell me I’m not a delight to be around?”
She sighed softly, clinging hard onto that small sliver of irritation, even if it didn’t do much good against the boy. She pulled out her phone, unlocking it and handing it over to him. She watched as he typed in all his information, and even took a cheesy little selfie for his contact photo. 
“No, no, no…” she said, trying to take her phone back when he started messaging himself.
He put out his arm with a giddy grin, blocking her from getting the phone back as he continued on his path with the other hand.
“How else was I meant to get your number?” he giggled, hitting send and handing the device back to her. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be the only one with the option to contact me. If you were the only one of us who could text, we’d never get the ball rolling on a proper friendship.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be your friend,” she snorted once, pocketing her phone again. “You’re a nuisance.”
“I’ll see you tonight then, right?” He ignored her poor insult. “To get the notes, I mean.”
She fell quiet for a moment before begrudgingly nodding. “Yeah. I’ll see you then. When will you be home?”
“For you? All day.”
She rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t help but fight a warmth in her cheeks as she turned to get back to work.
As it turned out, much like she was suspecting, letting James put his number in her phone, and consequently exchanging numbers, was a horrific idea. It seemed that every time she went to check her phone, even if it was the middle of the night, he had something to say. Whether it be an actual message or just a strange meme he found online, he was constantly sending her texts. She was convinced he was testing out a kind of exposure therapy. That maybe, in his head, if he kept bugging her all hours of the day she would learn not to act so annoyed by him. To his merit, he was mostly right. But it helped that she was harboring a secret crush on him to begin with.
James, on the other hand, was getting non-stop reprimands from his friends. Every time he pulled his phone out and started typing, they’d groan in annoyance, knowing exactly who he was trying to talk to.
“Mate, you’ve got to lay off the poor girl,” Remus grumbled softly, his head dropping onto the back of the couch when he clocked James texting her in the middle of a movie night with the boys. 
“I just thought she might think this movie is good. I’m recommending it,” James shrugged a little, still typing away.
“She probably doesn’t care,” Peter said casually.
“Shut up, Pete,” James huffed, setting his phone down. Though he left it up to make sure he’d see exactly when she texted back. “It’s funny. She likes funny stuff.”
“You’ve got it bad, Prongs,” Sirius shook his head as he came back into the living room from his brief excursion to the bathroom. Remus pulled him right back into his lap as he came out, hugging him tightly.
James looked at them, making a disgusted face and groaning. 
“You guys aren’t allowed to talk about me when you’re always clinging onto each other like that.”
“You’re just jealous,” Sirius smirked.
“Maybe I am! I have to watch you two cuddling all the time, all in love. It’s sickening,” James crossed his arms as he looked back at the television. “I shouldn’t have to watch that and hear about how I shouldn’t text a girl I fancy.”
Remus and Sirius shared a look. Remus then set his sights on James with a raised brow.
“So you fancy her now, do you?”
“Shut up.”
“Just saying,” Remus chuckled. “When we started the school year you said she was evil. Now you fancy her.”
“She is evil. She doesn’t like me back,” James sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat. “I don’t get it. Girls loved me in high school. Then all of a sudden we’re at uni, and the first girl I like turns out to be a lesbian and the second one thinks I’m annoying.”
“Poor boy,” Sirius cooed at his dear friend jokingly. “You’ll find one soon. Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.”
“But I want her to be! It isn’t fair. She probably doesn’t like English boys at all. I bet that’s what it is.”
“What?” Remus asked incredulously.
“She’s from the States. I bet she only likes, like… farmers or surfers or something stupid.”
That earned a laugh from his friends, brushing off his dramatics as usual. James merely pouted to himself as he watched the movie until his phone buzzed next to him. He grabbed it like his life depended on it when he saw who the notification was from, smiling like a giddy child as he read the message.
“alright. thanks for the rec, I’ll check it out :)”
He giggled a little to himself. “She sent me a smiley face! You guys think that actually made her smile? I bet it did.”
His friends merely sighed, ignoring him again since he wouldn’t have listened to their response anyways as he typed away.
“Maybe we could watch it together some time! I think my friends would really like you. They didn’t get to know you well enough last time they saw you since it was only a couple of minutes. You should come over!! :)”
He sent the message, but as soon as the excitement calmed down a smidge, he sent another message.
“If you want to, of course. I don’t want to pressure you. But I do want to hang out with you. I think you’ll like me if you decided to stop hating me lol”
“Sorry, that sounded weird”
“I just mean that we could be good friends, I think. You’re funny and cool, and I’m also funny and cool. It’s like we’re made for each other haha!”
“I don’t mean it like that. You know what I mean, yeah?”
“Fuck, mate, you writing a novel over there?” Sirius laughed with wide eyes, looking at the phone in James’s hands.
“I keep fucking up and sending weird stuff,” he groaned. “Trying to do damage control.”
“Not much damage control to do when she already talks to you in person,” Sirius retorts with a smirk.
“Shove off, Pads.”
His phone buzzed again.
“right lol. maybe sometime? do you plan on talking through the whole thing though? you tend to be a motormouth, you know lmao”
He let out a breath of relief, smiling to himself again when he saw that he didn’t screw things too badly.
“I’ll be quiet during all the important parts at least. Promise!”
He waited for a moment, staring at the screen as a little text bubble popped up almost immediately.
“maybe then, yeah. i’ll let you know next time i’m getting too happy with my peace and quiet. or the next time lils and her girlfriend are making out in front of me again”
He laughed softly, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others as he texted the girl. They were all in happy relationships, they certainly were not allowed to judge him for being excited to be speaking to somebody cute.
“Might not be much better with Sirius and Remus here, but misery loves company, right?”
“Those are two of my mates you met when you picked up those notes a while back, btw. In case you forgot their names.”
“They’re dating now.”
He waited patiently, not even paying an ounce of attention to the movie still playing. Besides, if he was going to watch it with her again some time soon, who cares if he missed a bit of it?
“good for them, they’re probably super cute together. but yeah, i’ll text you next time then”
James smiled brightly.
“Great!!! I’m looking forward to it! We can order dinner and everything.”
“But not like a date.”
“Unless you wanted it to be lol. Just kidding. We don’t have to do that.”
“But I’ll still buy dinner so you don’t go hungry.”
He waited again as the speech bottle popped up, and frowned a little when it went away. Then, there was a little heart on the first message he sent about ordering in, which, to him, felt like everything. 
She was surprised with herself when she was all nerves before going to see James and his friends for that promised movie night. Though, she quickly realized that was incredibly silly.
As she got to know James’s friends, she kind of started understanding why he talked so highly of them. She adored them, and thought it was pretty funny that they always seemed a little bit lovingly exasperated with his antics. She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how she’d start feeling about him, or if that bothersome crush would never fade into a casual friendship.
The answer seemed to come after Sirius and Remus ran off together after dinner, and Peter left to go hang out with his girlfriend. She didn't expect to find herself opening up to the Potter boy so easily about her past, nor for him to become so serious and thoughtful when talking about his own. 
She really didn’t expect for herself to say yes to hanging out with him again. And again. And again.
It’s like he somehow found his way under her skin. She knew he was capable of such a thing from how he was easily able to bug her from their first meeting. It was exasperation at first sight. But the way he charmed his way into her heart was an entirely new kind of annoying. He was all boyish smiles, silly stories, and dramatism… and it was fucking endearing.
But their tipping point came in March. 
Much to her chagrin, they had become close friends. They spent a lot of time together, and not just in the classroom or at work. She’d become friends with his friends, and James had become friends with Lily and Marlene after he finally accepted that Lily really wouldn’t ever like him. Though, realistically, he was pretty much over that the second he realized he had feelings for someone else. That slightly-grumpy, highly caffeinated, lovely, hilarious, complaining, sweet, smart, ridiculously difficult angel of a girl. 
The girl that made him embarrass himself in front of a party full of people.
He stood with Peter and his girlfriend at a table, chatting as they started sipping on freshly made drinks. James was, admittedly, probably a few too many in. But he couldn’t always exercise impeccable self-control, he decided. So, he stood there, staring at the girl from across the room as she danced with Lily’s girlfriend Marlene with a smile on his face.
“You look ridiculous staring at her like that, mate,” Peter said to James, nudging him lightly.
“I don’t know what you mean,” James snorted, pulling his eyes away from her to smirk at his friend. “Besides, I can stare at my girl all I want.”
“Only she isn’t your girl, James,” Peter reminded him.
“I’d like her to be,” James sighed dreamily, turning his head to look at her again. But this time, a frown overtook his face. 
She was now being tapped on the shoulder by some tall, terribly handsome looking guy. James’s stomach lurched a little at the sight. What did this guy think he was doing? 
He looked on for a moment as the two talked, growing more and more frustrated. He knew they weren’t together, but that was still his girl. He knew he had to take immediate action. This couldn’t just slide without consequence. James looked around the room almost frantically, trying to figure it out. How could he get all her attention on him instead of that stupid dude hanging off her shoulder?
Aha!
He pushed his cup into Peter’s hand, ignoring his friend questioning what on earth he was doing. He walked, though it was more of a drunken stumble, to the nearest table, clambering up on top of it. He cleared his throat, looking around as more and more people started looking up at him in confusion. Perfect! An audience.
He called her name over the crowd, looking at her intently until she turned to him with wide eyes, shrugging off the other guy that was still trying to get an arm around her. He smiled brightly, though she looked less than amused, shaking her head a little at him.
“I want everyone in this room, and… and everyone forever, everywhere, to know something. I am so, stupidly, madly…” he stopped as he stumbled a little, his foot slipping off of the table’s edge in front of him. “Shit!”
He crashed to the floor, scraping his hand on something on the table as he tried to stop himself from landing too hard on the ground. He winced, both from the tumble to the ground and the pain in his hand. What the hell was so sharp on that table?
“Ow,” he muttered, not even trying to get up yet, rubbing his head a little as he felt quite dizzy.
“James!”
He squinted up with a small, pained smile as her saccharine voice reached his ears as she came rushing over. He groaned a little when she dropped on her knees in front of him, trying to look at his hand. It was bleeding a little bit.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” she mumbled, but he still noticed the worry in her eyes. It made him feel good.
“I’m drunk.”
“Clearly,” she sighed softly, then stood, reaching for his opposite hand. “Come on. Let’s go get you home.”
“I didn’t finish what I wanted–”
“You need to get to bed. You’re a mess, Jamie.”
He smiled a little more at that little nickname. He loved it when she called him that. He agreed instantly to her at that point. How could he say no?
“Okay. Lead the way, mama.”
“...Don’t call me that.”
“Mm,” he shrugged, letting her help him stand up. He hung off of her, practically using her as a human crutch. “You’re so sweet to me.”
She stayed quiet, trying to bring him out of the room of people either staring or laughing at him. It was a miracle she got him home, but she did after a lengthy battle against the sidewalks and stairs. She sat him on his bed, making him stay put as she went to get disinfectant and a bandage for his hand.
He blinked slowly, looking after her with a dopey smile as she left and returned. She sat in front of him on the bed, taking his hand in hers. He barely whined at all when she cleaned off his hand, muttering something about him being a ‘clumsy, ridiculous cunt’. He thought it was cute how she could take care of him so well while still insulting him for being an absolute idiot. He reasoned that at least he would be her idiot. 
“Sorry, love,” he mumbled when she finished up with his hand. “But you’re awfully good at this stuff. Maybe I got hurt on purpose just so you’d take care of me.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said, practically force-feeding him some water. 
He swallowed. “No, I didn’t. But I could have. I like it like this.”
“You like having your hand all fucked up, and a room full of people laughing at you?”
“I like you sitting with me like this. Giving me alllll your attention,” he giggled. “Besides, you’re really pretty when you’re concentrating. I don’t mind getting hurt if it means you’ll do that silly little thing where your tongue sticks out a bit when you’re focusing.”
“You need to go to sleep,” she said softly, fighting a smile.
“But I didn’t finish what I was gonna say on the table.”
“Too late.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Too bad.”
He whined. “Please? That douchebag who was all over you is gonna go right back to it if you go back to the party.”
“I’m not going back to the party. And what do you even mean? What guy?”
“The one who was on you when I got up on the table,” he pouted.
She quirked a brow. “I don’t even know that guy.”
“That’s worse! He’s gonna steal you away!” James exclaimed. “That isn’t fair. I had you first.”
She swallowed once, looking at him curiously. “What?”
“I don’t like boys looking at you or… or touching you or talking to you or anything. You were mine first. They need to back off,” he said, getting increasingly irritated. “I don’t care if you think I’m annoying or you don’t like me. Doesn’t mean some other boy gets to just… take you.”
“Slow down,” she said, grabbing his arm. “First of all, I do like you, if not evidenced by us becoming friends the past several months. Second… some dude I don’t even know isn’t gonna come along and ‘take me’. That doesn’t even make sense. Besides…”
“It does make sense! You’re so beautiful, and funny, and caring, and really mean but in a way that is super hot…”
“I don’t want to date some random frat boy, James.”
“But they want to date you!”
“Who gives a fuck?”
“I do! I love you! They shouldn’t get to butter you up and take you away from me, it isn’t fair,” he groaned, tossing himself back onto the pillows.
As a result, he didn’t see her mouth drop open at the accidental confession, nor the way her eyes widened as she looked at him. 
“You love me?”
“What?”
“You just said you love me.”
James opens his eyes, though he doesn’t look at her. “...no I didn’t.”
“You’re a shit liar, Jamie. I know what I heard.”
He winced a little. “Well… maybe I do. That’s what I was gonna say on the table, anyway.”
“So you’re brave enough to say it in front of a crowd, but you get scared to admit to it one-on-one?” She snorted a laugh.
“It’s easier to not get rejected right away when we’re around other people. Then at least I could figure out your reaction when you were still far away,” he said meekly, finally looking at her.
“You think I’d reject you?”
“Maybe? You kind of hated me when we first met.”
“And now? Who do I spend every waking moment with, dummy?”
“...me?”
She merely raised her brows, opening her hands in an ‘obviously, dumbass’ kind of gesture. He smiled at her.
“So…?” he asked vaguely.
“So… you love me, huh?”
He merely nodded, looking a little sheepish and still pretty drunk. She was thanking her lucky stars that she was still extremely tipsy as well, or else she probably would’ve passed out from nerves.
“What if I said… like, me too?”
His eyes widened. “You too?”
“Yeah.”
“You love me too? Like, also?”
“Yes, like, also,” she laughed. “I’ve honestly had a crush on you since the second day of classes this year.”
“Really?” He smiled brightly. “Ugh, you’re horrible!”
“What?” she scoffed a laugh.
“You are evil! I’ve been saying it since day one. This whole time I thought I was an idiot for liking you so much, and you had a crush on me?”
“To be fair, I really didn’t want to. You were pretty insufferable,” she chuckled, brushing some of his messy hair out of his face.
“Then what changed for me?”
“Nothing. I just started thinking all of your irritating traits were becoming irritatingly adorable.”
“You think I’m adorable?” He giggled to himself.
“Don’t push your luck, Potter.”
“Don’t call me that. I like it better when you call me Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Makes me all soft and mushy inside.”
“You’re such a sap,” she sighed softly, leaning down over him to kiss his cheek.
He felt his cheeks heat up quickly at the sweet gesture, and even more when she didn’t pull her face away from his. He looked up at her with a soft smile. How could he not have fallen head over heels?
He leaned up slightly, glancing down at her lips before closing his eyes to let her make the first official move. He hoped she’d make that move. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and sparks all over his body when he felt her lips meet his for the first time. He smiled into the kiss, unable to stop himself from it.
He kissed her back, though it was admittedly sloppy with the both of them still fairly inebriated, James being even more so. But to him at the very least, it was perfect.
Against his preference, she pulled away. He pouted, as he usually did when he didn’t get as much attention from her as he’d like.
“You have to promise me something,” she said quietly.
His ears perked up. “Anything.”
“We won’t become annoying like Lily and Marls or Sirius and Remus.”
He grinned. “Does that mean you want to date me?”
“God, you’re dense,” she muttered against his lips, kissing him again with no intention of ever stopping.
1K notes · View notes
wilonevys · 15 days ago
Text
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏/𝟐)
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the list of the smaus i've read and liked so far!
completed ✔️ - discontinued/on hold ❌ personal favourites 💎 - ongoing 🟩 - smut/nsfw 🔞
note: any smau that hasn’t been updated in over a year will be considered discontinued.
en- sunghoon and maknae line smau recs click HERE!
txt smau recs click HERE!
sorry for the tags!
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links are under the cut!
hyung line/multiple
𓆩♡𓆪 « confident » ✔️ 💎💎💎 🔞 by @bambisgirl
SYNOPSIS. after graduating high-school and having a major glow-up over summer, you became more confident in yourself and got the title of the most popular girl at decelis university in your first week of freshman year. you instantly dethroned all of the sophomore girls, on top of being so pretty, kind, smart and sexy… girl you have it all. yet you’re still the same kind, naïve and funny y/n that can’t refuse anyone coming her way. after all, you know what they say… confidence makes a girl sexy but kindness is key!
𓆩♡𓆪 « no nut november » ✔️ 🔞 by @jayflrt
SUMMARY ▸ four men suppressing their carnal instincts for thirty days doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s no nut november, so victory is crucial. yet, there’s only one obstacle keeping lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon from their prize: you. game on, boys.
𓆩♡𓆪 « to do: find a boyfriend » 🟩 by @seokgyuu
being single for three and a half years all of your friends are tired of your constant whining. while your girlfriends want you to just get laid, your boy-friends, on the other hand, just think you should pick one of them to date. ignoring them all, you instead decide to try out a dating app to find your match.
𓆩♡𓆪 « r u online? » ❌ (on hold) 💎 by @hoonvrs
SYNOPSIS seems like there’s a small problem between the four best friends when they each find themselves crushing on the same girl. now it’s left up to you to decide who’s your endgame.
𓆩♡𓆪 « zoom » ❌ 💎 🔞 by @enhas-bestie
SYNOPSIS: In which Y/N has a zoom meeting and it turns out that her TA! is incredibly hot. Things escalate. Chaos ensures.
lee heeseung
𓆩♡𓆪 « buy one, take me » ✔️ by @heeracha
synopsis: with his best friend asking him for help because said best friend was scared he wasn't "boyfriend material" enough, heeseung looks for flower shops for his best friend's girlfriend. thankfully, jake knows someone from the university who has an aunt that owns a flower shop, you. now, heeseung messages you and shyly, but shamelessly asks if he can get any promos or discounts to which you shamelessly answered him, "buy one, take me". heeseung doesn't pass on this, of course. after all, you are pretty damn cute.
𓆩♡𓆪 « you, me and the moon » ✔️ by @heeracha
synopsis: lee heeseung is a famous frat boy who is known to be mysterious since he would always stay at the corner to observe people passing by but he does not like the fact that his eyes would linger a little longer on you than he likes to admit because who the fuck is he kidding? you're way too good for him.
𓆩♡𓆪 « so sick ! » ✔️ 💎💎💎 by @yeonjunszn
summary: when your boyfriend of almost eight years cheats on you your senior year of university, you decide that you’re done with anything and everything to do with love. that is, until you meet a guy who sings love songs for a living.
𓆩♡𓆪 « hands on you » ✔️ 💎 💎 by @thatfeelinwhenyou
IN WHICH; I-LAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÈRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!
𓆩♡𓆪 « the revenge pact » ✔️ by @boyfhee
synopsis: lee heeseung is the handsome yet good for nothing mysterious boy living a floor below you, who dropped out of college and is living quite a lavish life. when you get fired from your job, ending up struggling to make your ends meet and failing to pay the rent, heeseung offers you rather an eccentric proposal : pay the rent or be his girlfriend.
𓆩♡𓆪 « sugar daddy » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt
SUMMARY ▸ in which heeseung accidentally becomes your sugar daddy, but funding a sugar baby is hard when you’re a broke college student.
𓆩♡𓆪 « a stoner's guide to starbucks » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt
SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.
𓆩♡𓆪 « poison » ✔️ 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun
synopsis: new city, new people, a new life. after finally getting the chance to live your dreams, you're ready to close old chapters, only for a certain someone who's always been off limits to open again...
𓆩♡𓆪 « verboten » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby
SYNOPSIS; a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.
𓆩♡𓆪 « anonymous » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby
synopsis: heeseung had been your biggest supporter for months under the pseudonym ethan, sending you money in return for content and interactions. he stuck around, spending half his paycheck just for your attention, until the delusions of your work convinced him you were his.
𓆩♡𓆪 « a little dramatic » 🟩 by @heeliopheelia
yn: knock knock
heeseung: who's there?
yn: your annoying best friend
heeseung: your annoying best friend who?
yn: your annoying best friend who has to do a kissing scene in the school play but she's never been kissed before and needs you to teach her how to do it so that she doesn't make a fool out of herself in front of her crush
...in other words heeseung's down bad, yn is an idiot in denial and riki gives everyone a headache.
𓆩♡𓆪« trainees » 🟩 💎 by @hoonvrs
SYNOPSIS heeseung wasn’t known as ‘the ace’ for nothing, constantly ranking number one after every monthly evaluation. then suddenly a new name takentakes over first place — baek ‘Rin’, and heeseung doesn’t take lightly to competition.
𓆩♡𓆪 « fancam » ❌ 💎💎 by @bambisgirl
SYNOPSIS. you’re a rookie camerawoman for kpop music shows and you’re designed to film lee heeseung’s focused fancams for this enhypen comeback. you know he’s just an idol but… you spent $500 on a 4k mirrorless full frame 12.1 mp camera just to catch a better glimpse of him.
𓆩♡𓆪 « reality check » ❌ 💎💎 by @yunverse
SYNOPSIS › Shocked by the sudden revelations, yn realizes that she has been pulled into another world belonging to her favourite reverse-harem novel as the female lead’s best friend. Content with her new life, she excitedly watches from the sidelines knowing every single encounter in the novel would be unravelling right in front of her. However, as time goes on, she slowly comes to the horrifying realization that the characters she seemingly idolized are not who they seem to be.
𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. park jay) » ❌ by @postalenha
SYNOPSIS, after a horrendous break up, you met a guy at a bar. you two instantly clicked and got close the whole night, so close that the two of you almost kissed. but you ran off, and planned to never see him again. but what will happen if one day, a commotion started at your university; girls going crazy over the new handsome guy in fashion design. and there you see the man standing with a butterfly tattoo on his nape. the same man from the bar, looking for you.
park jongseong
𓆩♡𓆪 « adore you » ✔️ 💎💎 by @enzenwriting
Summary: Debuting as BE:LIFT Lab’s next solo artist, you reunite with your best friend Jungwon in Enhypen! With the groups’ quick fondness towards you, a certain member is sure he adores you extra with brotherly and senior care! But what if Jay finds that this doting is unlike his feeling towards his younger members because he definitely does not want to kiss Yang Jungwon like he does to you?!
𓆩♡𓆪 « reparations » ✔️ (short smau) 💎 by @jayflrt
SUMMARY ▸ in which jay is a dog.
𓆩♡𓆪 « deuce! » ✔️ 💎💎 by @jaeminvore
summary: one may ask, what would happen if you put a prodigy and a hard worker in one room? Absolute chaos. Jay and Y/N absolutely hated each other’s guts. Having been rivals from middle school until present, it’s a cruel twist of fate that they ended up going to the same university years later. To make matters even worse, both have been selected as captains for the men’s and women’s volleyball team respectively.
The coaches, the managers—hell, both teams knew they had to put an end to this ridiculous beef as they were slowly tarnishing the esteemed reputation of both teams, but the question is: how?
𓆩♡𓆪 « strictly business » ✔️ 🔞 💎 by @onlyjaeyun
synopsis: two people, two different stories, two different hearts, one capital city. a story in which a young secretary from a small town manages to bring a new breath of fresh air into the life of seoul's most famous and untouchable ceo.
𓆩♡𓆪 « more than this » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby
in a society where hybrid's were still made to feel like nothing, you wanted to show jay how much more he was worth
𓆩♡𓆪 « are you blackmailing me? » ✔️ by @liliansun
Synopsis: Jay has his eyes on you, but you couldn’t care less. When he finally musters up the courage to speak to you, you ask him about his friend instead. In attempts to salvage his chance, he agrees to help you if you help him in return.
𓆩♡𓆪 « 21st century girl » ✔️ 💎 by @hoonvrs
SYNOPSIS where jay 'claims’ he has a girlfriend but none of his friends believe him because how are you a girl in the 21st century and don't have any social media, right? and if you and jay continue to let them think your relationship is fake for entertainment purposes, nobody has to know.
𓆩♡𓆪 « yours forever in 786 » 🟩 🔞 by @jayflrt
SUMMARY ▸ after being blackmailed into accepting an assignment, jay park, a young private detective, is thrown back into college. this time, though, he’s at an ivy league and tasked to follow you to uncover what dark secrets your old money family is hiding. in doing this, jay must fraternize with your inner circle by joining a secret society called the "order of kryptos.” what he doesn’t realize is that the deeper he gets into his mission, the more he starts to lose himself.
𓆩♡𓆪 « knock me down » ❌ 💎 by @nekkodiaries
SUMMARY: park jay lives life as a hot-headed gamer by day and.. well.. still a hot-headed gamer by night— except he secretly goes by the name killstrike. after losing a pubg duo match, he finds himself trash-talking his teammate notursniper, who happens to be the mysterious classmate he's been admiring for over a year and more.
𓆩♡𓆪 « friendzoned » ❌ by @szniki
summary! - nishimura yn has been pining for her best friend jay park since 7th grade, but she’s well aware that jay will continue to be oblivious and had accepted that she’s stuck in the friendzone, that is until she befriends a foreign exchange student from australia and jay can’t help but feel jealous over how quick yn and her new friend are bonding
𓆩♡𓆪 « can i call you tonight? » ❌ by @heesbaby
yn needs money. that’s the only reason she keeps agreeing to babysit jay’s son each week. nothing was ever going to blossom out of it, not with jay - a workaholic 6 years older than her. she keeps telling herself that every time his smile lingers a little too long on his lips, but each time she dials his number into her phone, he picks up before the second ring.
𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. lee heeseung) » ❌ by @postalenha
SYNOPSIS, after a horrendous break up, you met a guy at a bar. you two instantly clicked and got close the whole night, so close that the two of you almost kissed. but you ran off, and planned to never see him again. but what will happen if one day, a commotion started at your university; girls going crazy over the new handsome guy in fashion design. and there you see the man standing with a butterfly tattoo on his nape. the same man from the bar, looking for you.
sim jaeyun
𓆩♡𓆪 « the world's a little blurry » ✔️ by @0x1lovebot
synopsis: having feelings for someone who’s in a relationship is already so hard to deal with. so imagine jake’s struggle when the taken girl that he’s had feelings for for years comes to him for help in physics. will he actually move on or will the lines start to blur between tutoring and romance?
𓆩♡𓆪 « doctors orders » ✔️ 💎💎 🔞 by @heesbaby
synopsis. jake was a little concerned by how often you were sat in his waiting room, but he couldn't deny how he searched his appointment list each morning hoping to see your name
𓆩♡𓆪 « after hours » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @heesbaby
SYNOPSIS; jake sim, bassist of AFTERHOURS and all round terrible guy, so deep in his self absorbed world where everything went his way and everyone fell at his feet. he hardly noticed you moving in next door until he caught a glimpse of you in the hallway. completely uninterested in your neighbour, you did you best to ignore his advances. that was until you found yourself humming along to the songs he practiced every night.
𓆩♡𓆪 « hype boy » ✔️ 💎 💎 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun
synopsis: after years of hiding himself in the responsibility of raising his youngest brother, jaeyun finally finds himself falling head over heels for the sweet college student from next door...
𓆩♡𓆪 « maybe we could be together » ✔️ 💎💎 by @jaeminvore
summary: in which Y/N has already accepted the fact that she will never be anything more than a best friend to Jake. She’s fine. She’s kept it all together for so long. However, Sunoo is a force to reckon with and he will do anything in his power to get Jake and Y/N together—Oh, and not to mention Sunoo really hates Jake’s current girlfriend, much to the annoyance of Y/N.
𓆩♡𓆪 « nights with you » ✔️ by @nvertheless
sypnosis — jake sim couldn’t sleep at night. with the stress of school taking over him he wasn’t able to fall asleep anymore.. until he gets recommend a nightly lofi channel to fall asleep to and it works really well for him.. not knowing your the owner of that nightly lofi channel.. and u possibly have the biggest crush on jake..
𓆩♡𓆪 « cigarettes » ✔️ 💎 💎 by @hoonvrs
SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )
𓆩♡𓆪 « boomerang » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos
SYNOPSIS: you and jake sim have always been academic rivals. it was always you against him for top of the class, and jake is sure that you two were made to hate each other. a couple years later when you debut and become an idol, you find yourself talking to him again - but it’s in a group chat with other aussie idols, and perhaps you realise that he isn’t that insufferable.
𓆩♡𓆪 « equation for disaster » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos
SYNOPSIS — much to you and your boyfriend jake’s delight, there’s going to be a math championship for idols now. with both of you hellbent on winning, you two decide to be rivals again for just a little while. may the best star-crossed hater win. (the sequel to boomerang.)
𓆩♡𓆪 « collie duty » ✔️ by @filmbyjy
SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?
𓆩♡𓆪 « one note » 🟩 by @filmbyjy
SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship
𓆩♡𓆪 « consequences of a one night stand » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @luvyeni
( synopsis ). in which after a drunken hookup , y/n y/ln and are jake left with some heavy consequences and now they have to come to terms with it.
𓆩♡𓆪 « all about you » ✔️ by @heeliopheelia
synopsis: finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings hidden from one of your best friends, with each day you become more restless. with the confession constantly resting on the tip of your tongue, you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to keep your sweet secret to yourself. little did you know, the exact same question has been haunting jake’s mind, keeping him just as unsettled as you.
𓆩♡𓆪 « cat & dog » ❌ by @yeongwonie
SYNOPSIS a year after his notorious 10 months ending fairy, jake is confident that the occasional jokes and furry allegations have subsided. he's wrong, unfortunately, and no amount of teasing from his members could've prepared him for his ult—you—seeing the video.
𓆩♡𓆪 « lucid dream » ❌ 💎 by @yyunari
SYNOPSIS  . many might recognize y/n as one of the most beloved and rounded 4th generation idols. being in aespa brought her a lot of popularity and made her really well known, especially for her talents and bubbly personality. when y/n becomes a music bank mc along with enhypen’s sunghoon, what will happen when she meets her old high school crush from back in australia?
𓆩♡𓆪 « cupid's cure » ❌ by @amakumos
synopsis. as the new admins of cupid’s corner, gunwook and eunchae make it their mission to get back some of the couples that jungwon’s girlfriend had unintentionally broken up. one of the couples on their list are you and jake sim, also known as the self proclaimed “rizzler of oz”. you haven’t talked to jake since the breakup — because one, you don’t think you’re quite over him yet, and two, you have zero reason to speak to him! that is, until eunchae works her “magic” — she decides to post a confession (apparently coming from jake himself), saying that he still loves you.
𓆩♡𓆪 « pinky promise » ❌ by @sunboki
THE LAST SUMMER you spent with Jake Sim was the beginning of a disaster and it all began with a pinky promise. You left Australia a few days before high school to become a trainee under BigHit Entertainment, sending you far away from home, from Jake. Well, you didn’t know it back then, but Jake had also come to Korea as a trainee a year later, and fate worked its magic when you’re both selected as KBS MC’s together. The pinky promise in question? A promise to be together till the end.
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note: sunghoon and maknae line smaus will be on another post! tumblr being a bitch and doesn't let me add more links :(
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ozzgin · 8 months ago
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Can I have yandere Aka Manto x Reader? I see you write Japanese myths, cuz why not?
Yandere! Urban Legend x Reader [Aka Manto]
You never know when you're going to meet your soulmate. It could be on a beach at sunset, on the last bus home, in the elevator of an office building...Or in a public bathroom after you just finished your business. Nevertheless, this urban legend monster has its eyes on you now.
Content: gender neutral reader, urban legend, part horror part comedy, gore!, monster romance
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"Are you deaf? It's occupied!" you shout one final time, giving the door a swift kick to emphasize your presence. That's what you get for using a public restroom. Your coworkers had convinced you to try out another bar after the company dinner, and you might've had one too many cocktails. Thankfully most of the drinks were watered down, although it is exactly because of this detail that you're now hovering above a toilet seat with a full bladder. On a Friday night, in the partying neighborhood of the city, so it could explain the persistent stranger - possibly even drunker than you - who keeps rattling the lock of your stall.
To your horror, the handle begins to turn, and you hear a click. You scramble to get up and secure the door, but it's too late. With your pants halfway down, you gawk at the bizarre individual squeezing his way in: a tall figure wearing a red cloak and a mask. "What the Hell?" is all you can mumble to yourself, awkwardly gathering your garments in order to preserve your remaining ounce of dignity. Out of all the things to happen tonight...Alright, calm down. It's most likely a crackhead. You cast your eyes down and focus on the floor tiles, with patterns strategically chosen to hide as much grime as possible.
Pretty. Almost too pretty to kill. He might just take his time with you and savor the moment. Of course, you'll have to answer his question first. With bureaucratic efficiency, he pulls out two rolls of toilet paper and extends them to you. "The red one, or the blue one?" he asks with theatric gravity. What in the Avon samples Hell is this, you think, fidgeting nervously and avoiding any eye contact still. If you ignore him, he should lose interest.
A minute passes in heavy silence. His ghastly arms begin to tire, so he lowers them with a disappointed creak of the joints. "Y-you have to pick one", he insists. Damn it! Perhaps you've been told what to do if approached by mischievous spirits like him? Ignorance means you keep your head, though he was hoping for a gory night of entertainment. You can almost feel the intense stare coming from behind the eerie mask. The tension becomes unbearable, so you finally decide to push your luck. You will not spend the night stuck with a deranged pervert looming over you in a public bathroom.
Without further delay, you shove him aside and open the door. He lets out a surprised hum, observing your daring gesture and almost expecting you to run for your life. To his even greater shock, however, you stop to wash your hands with a relaxed whistle, completely unbothered by his presence. What happened to the fear, the terror, the dread? You peek at his reflection in the mirror, and your lips curl in a mocking grin. Maybe it's the alcohol finally hitting your nervous system, but all you see right now is a pathetic charlatan who tried to intimidate you with literal toilet paper. A good-for-nothing scoundrel interrupting the innocent from their much-needed bathroom break.
In fact, the more you consider your situation, the more your chest puffs with outrage and bravery. You pay your taxes, you help the needy, and this is how your civic deeds are rewarded? By having your stream cut midway? Unbelievable. Unacceptable. No other soul shall suffer your fate tonight. "Wretch!" you cry out, turning towards the aggressor and continuing your demands: "Evacuate the premises at once!"
You might not understand it yet, but your act of defiance has sealed your fate. The hooded monster smiles, relishing the words that have closed the gap between your fragile body and his blasphemous claws. You have spoken to him; thus, he can do with you as he desires. And yet, his murderous fingers hesitate. Your entrails should be splattered across the rarely polished porcelain by now. What's holding him back? He tilts his head in contemplation, but any intention to ponder his feelings is quickly discarded once a loud shriek pierces his ears.
As it turns out, someone else had been using the neighboring stall and was alerted by your little argument. Their finger is pointed at the cloaked creature, features twisted in disgust and fear. "Can't you tell we're busy?" The mysterious man inquires sarcastically. On second thought, this should be enough to satisfy his cravings.
With a snap of the fingers, the frightened bystander is torn apart by invisible hands right before your very eyes. Their limbs detach with surreal ease, and blood splatters everywhere in hot, sticky bursts. In your petrified daze, you are reminded of nature documentaries: blurry snippets of sharks trashing their victim around, fleshy chunks coming undone from the violent handling. Within seconds, the bathroom is quiet again. The walls and ceiling are drenched in fresh blood, and occasionally, fat droplets collapse into a puddle with resounding echo.
It all falls into place. The hooded creature claps its hands, startling you back into awareness. "That's what it was!", he says with enthusiasm. He approaches you with quiet steps, cushioned by the meaty remains coating the floor. He places one hand over the mask, removes it, and gives it a shake as if to clean off the crimson fluid. You involuntarily gaze at his face, taken aback by the handsome traits. Is this the appearance of a ruthless ghoul who butchers mortals for amusement? You wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the hot trickle of foreign blood trailing your skin.
"I think I've fallen in love with you", he confesses with a wide, saw-toothed smile. You feel a clawed finger tracing your cheek affectionately. "Well? What're you so silent for? You were quite cheeky a moment ago!" he continues tauntingly, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up. "Or have you seen what happens when you misbehave? No, no, darling, I'd never! There are other ways in which I can ruin you."
You're suddenly very cold. With dry lips, you eventually open your mouth to speak: "I'm not leaving here, am I?"
"You could, but that would make me very upset."
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1800titz · 8 months ago
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HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D
CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics
WC: 8.6K
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“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes. 
It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there. 
Harry blinks. 
It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look. 
In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout. 
The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte. 
She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera. 
There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.
Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe. 
I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back. 
Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting. 
“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification. 
Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte. 
“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...” 
That barista is definitely fucking peering over.
“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito. 
For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink. 
“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe. 
The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera. 
There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this. 
“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”
Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused. 
“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.” 
“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 
Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth. 
“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.” 
The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face. 
“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.” 
Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture. 
She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal. 
He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm. 
That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now. 
Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty. 
Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with. 
It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen. 
The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”
Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together. 
“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head. 
She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan. 
She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed. 
“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline. 
He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.
“Yeah. It does.” 
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Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down. 
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When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too. 
“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing. 
Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits. 
“Very nice.”
It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge. 
“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.” 
He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock. 
“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.” 
He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green. 
Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?” 
“F’course.” 
The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.” 
His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.
“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?” 
“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it. 
“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new territory from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”
Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting. 
Yeah. He can work with that. 
“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows. 
Tiger is much more subdued in this setting. 
“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.” 
The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”
Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.” 
Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.  
“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“
The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods. 
“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him. 
Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad. 
“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”
Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more. 
“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.” 
Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.
“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“
Her thighs press together.
“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”
She swallows. 
“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.” 
Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way. 
“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?” 
His strawberry mouth curls a little. 
“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.” 
It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom. 
It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording. 
There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier. 
“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger. 
Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into. 
“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.
And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms. 
“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.” 
Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over. 
“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too. 
“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding. 
The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank. 
“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet. 
The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there. 
A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.” 
He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.” 
Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up. 
This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out. 
Authenticity. 
Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out. 
“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles. 
His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates. 
“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash. 
“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens. 
Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly. 
“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out. 
Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags. 
“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?” 
When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.” 
It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart. 
“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself. 
The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits. 
It’s kind of game over from there. 
There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement. 
“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh. 
The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug. 
And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?” 
Gameovergameovergameovergameover.
Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.
Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing. 
Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe. 
And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”
Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose. 
That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy. 
Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”
A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth
“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip. 
“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.” 
Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train. 
It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur. 
She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands. 
It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”
The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead. 
“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?” 
Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.
“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.
“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.” 
Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even. 
“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow. 
He bites. 
At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused. 
“You want my cum painting your pretty face?” 
“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 
“Yeah? That’s what you want?” 
His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands. 
And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”
Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic.  It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording. 
His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera. 
“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof. 
And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals. 
Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.  
“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment. 
He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds. 
“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”
She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums. 
“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.” 
The words coax her to clench over the plug. 
“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim. 
Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss. 
“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible. 
“Hm?” 
“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s. 
Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?” 
The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.” 
And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering. 
“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?” 
And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs. 
“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“ 
His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth. 
“Good girl.”
Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle. 
Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?” 
“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”
Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego. 
“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”  
A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?” 
And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.” 
That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words. 
“Christ.”
Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.” 
When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash. 
“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance. 
Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks. 
“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”
Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips. 
“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.” 
She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs. 
“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.” 
He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off. 
Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”
Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“
And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.  
“Get that mouth back on my cock.” 
Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut. 
“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”
And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur. 
Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.” 
Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.
“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.” 
Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly. 
“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”
His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages, 
Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans. 
The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down. 
A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.” 
Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?” 
His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”  
She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased. 
“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit. 
She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters. 
“…Hm?”
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roosterforme · 19 days ago
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 28 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As your school year fades into summer break, your wedding day approaches. Before your fourth graders move to fifth grade, you and Bradley invite the pen pals along for the big day.
Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+
Length: 3400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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That summer...
"The best part about our wedding venue is that it's free," you whispered. "The worst part is that we had to clean it ourselves."
"Agreed," Bradley replied with a groan.
You were exhausted, both physically and mentally, and now you were sprawled out mostly on top of Bradley on the living room couch which was too small even for him alone. His big hand was heavy where it rested on your back, and his voice was a deep rumble in his chest.
"But on Saturday, we'll be married. So it's worth it."
His words warmed you as you snuggled a little closer. Both of you could use a shower after the day you had, but you didn't even make it that far yet. As soon as you walked inside, this is where you ended up. You were expecting his stomach to start growling at any moment, and you were prepared to make some sandwiches when necessary.
"It was nice of Nat, Marty and Ruby to help us get things ready," you told him with a yawn. 
In a shocking turn of events, Marty and Ruby got married over spring break in Las Vegas after going on just six dates. Actually, when you considered that they probably fell in love the day they met, it wasn't that shocking at all. People told you all the time they were surprised you were marrying Bradley a year after you blindly mailed a box to an unknown Naval aviator, but to you, it all felt exactly right.
"Marty was like a wizard with that scrub brush today. I don't think there's anything he can't do," Bradley said, mirroring your yawn with one of his own. "Are all of your kiddos coming on Saturday?"
"Mmm... most of them, yeah. And don't forget, you have to drive Edith up with you."
"I won't forget. She's a pretty integral part to our day, Gorgeous," he muttered, and sure enough his stomach began to rumble. "Damn, I was hoping I'd make it to the shower with you first." He gave your rear end a squeeze. "I haven't seen you naked since this morning."
You groaned and started to ease your body away from him and stood. "You'll see plenty of that when we're in Paris."
"I better," he replied, one eyebrow cocked as he examined you in your filthy old jeans and one of his ratty undershirts. "You look damn good, Mrs. Bradshaw. You'll need a new name tag for your classroom door when school starts in August."
Your fingers dragged through his wavy hair before tracing the scars on his cheek. "If I change my name." A little pout appeared on his lips, and you leaned down to kiss it away. "Come on and have a sandwich before we get cleaned up, Handsome."
-------------------------------
Bradley had much less responsibility on Saturday than you did. He had to put on his dress whites, fix his hair, and drive Edith up to Mira Mesa with him. You on the other hand left with Natasha first thing in the morning after demanding Bradley not even look at you. Apparently that was bad luck, but he'd already been watching you sleep peacefully when he woke around dawn before falling asleep again.
He wasn't exactly nervous about the wedding, but he was a little anxious. He wanted to get married and settle into things before your school year started. And before he left again for deployment. You always seemed to have more patience for his career than he did, but he wanted to be selfish and have some time at home while he was still a newlywed. And that didn't even account for the upcoming week in Paris.
While he was in the bathroom, running his fingers through his damp hair, Bradley examined his freshly shaven cheeks. Sometimes he forgot about his facial scars. You always looked at him like he was flawless, and now it rarely occurred to him to be overly self conscious about it. But they were there, and you had kissed all over them last night before bed while you teased him about what you wrote for your wedding vows.
He didn't bother to write his down. What would be the point in that? He could hardly ever shut up about how much he loved you, so he would just say what was on his mind when the time came. The ceremony was going to be quick anyway since Marty was officiating. Bradley could tell the reserved, older man only agreed to do it for the sake of friendship, and you told him he could keep it very short. 
As he pulled his white uniform on, Bradley smiled, knowing he'd have you back in bed this evening before leaving insanely early to go to the airport in the morning. When be was all set, he grabbed the wedding bands from the dresser, and headed over to get Edith.
She was wearing a purple dress and had her sheet music with her, and Bradley realized that other than Nat, she was the closest thing to a family member that he would have with him today. "Thanks for coming up to Mira Mesa, Edith," he said, opening the passenger door of his Bronco for her.
She looked delighted. "It's my pleasure. I'm just so pleased you asked me to be there. And you look so handsome, Bradley. And very happy."
He was happy. So fucking happy. And that was the bottom line. He was too busy being happy to think about his scars or worry about reading his wedding vows from a piece of paper. He fell in love with you through notes, emails and letters, but today he was going off script.
"I am happy, Edith. Happier than I ever expected to be."
------------------------------
"God, you look like a dream," Natasha gushed, fluffing out the bottom of your simple wedding dress before adjusting the straps along your shoulders. "Your makeup is beautiful, and your hair is perfect. Bradley is going to piss his pants when he sees you."
"Hopefully not while he's in his dress whites," you replied, making her crack up while she took a step back to inspect you one last time.
She planted her hands on her hips in her cute, green dress. "This is going to be the perfect wedding. A quick ceremony followed by spaghetti and meatballs catered from the best restaurant in San Diego. This is how everyone should get married."
"I told Marty the ceremony needs to be quick, because Bradley's stomach will growl the whole time otherwise. I don't like it when he has to go too long without eating," you murmured, looking down at the fabric that cascaded along your new shoes. When you looked up again, Natasha was leaning with one shoulder against the brick exterior of your elementary school and wiping tears from her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she whispered, shaking her head and sniffing. "It's just that you get him. You understand him." She took a deep breath and added, "Bradley seems big and boisterous, but he's actually really sensitive. And he needs someone to look after him and make sure he eats enough. That's the kind of shit he needs. Not someone who is always mad at him for having feelings. He needs you, because you love him back as much as he loves you."
"Natasha," you gasped, reaching for her as tears stung your eyes. She had known Bradley for so many years, and her words made your heart swell with even more happiness. "I do love him. So much," you whispered as she squeezed you tight.
Then you heard the sound of a piano playing in the distance and knew you needed to start walking toward the playground. "Take care of him. And let him take care of you," Natasha said. 
She wiped her tears on her sleeve as she gently guided you across the asphalt and handed you a bouquet of flowers. Your wedding vows were folded up into a paper airplane amongst the blooms that came from the florist Bradley used for your surprise bouquet when he was last deployed. Your heart beat a little faster as Natasha headed away from you and turned at the corner of the building, and then it was your turn to start walking.
The first thing you saw was the parking lot where Bradley's Bronco sat next to the Salvatore's catering van. Then the small, outdoor lunch pavilion came into view, which Ruby spent the morning decorating with fresh flowers, paper airplanes, and the fanciest disposable tableware you could find. Then you saw all of the kids from your class last year, and you smiled as they all waved and shouted your name.
But when you finally saw the playground equipment, Bradley was standing there in his dress whites surrounded by his friends and your friends and Maverick and Ruby. And his smile was so bright as you ran to him while Edith played the piano in the auditorium with all the windows open. It was a medley of love songs, but none of them compared to the love you felt when you were in Bradley's arms.
"Hey, Gorgeous," he whispered, scooping you up when you reached him, crushing the flowers between your body and his. "You look so pretty."
His dress whites were a bit scratchy against your skin, and this was the only time you'd seen him wearing them other than that one night last month that turned into some role playing after he tried them on. He always took your breath away. Since the first moment he wrote back to your letter, you just wanted more of him. You couldn't help but kiss him.
"Oh no!" Violet gasped. "You're supposed to do that at the end!"
Bradley laughed against your lips, and you turned your head to really take a good look at all the kids. They were all there with parents, some of whom had been at Career Day. And they were dressed up and looked adorable. You were going to miss them next year when they were in fifth grade.
"I promise we'll do it again at the end," Bradley laughed, his voice a deep rumble against your palm.
Then the piano music came to a stop, and Edith came shuffling outside as Marty introduced himself to everyone. 
"I'm sure the kids all remember you, Marty," you assured him. "You were the coolest adult at Career Day."
"Hey," Bradley complained as he tried to straighten out your flowers.
"I meant second coolest adult at Career Day," you amended, and now both Marty and Bradley were smiling.
"Well, regardless, you told me to keep this quick," Marty said. You could already smell the spaghetti and knew for sure Bradley was hungry. "So quick it shall be." He cleared his throat and said, "I'm pretty sure I knew Lieutenant Bradshaw was in love before he knew it himself. I've overlapped with him on several deployments over the past eight years, and he always seemed a little bit lonely." You laced your fingers with Bradley's and leaned against his shoulder as Marty continued. "Until last year when he asked for my permission to take some photos and videos of me working on an engine rebuild. I told him I didn't mind, and then he divulged that it was for a fourth grade class back in California. My immediate assumption was that he was dating a teacher, but he told me he was just writing to some new pen pals. By the end of that long deployment, he told me he'd fallen for their teacher and couldn't wait to meet her."
"That's the absolute truth," Bradley murmured, his lips pressed to your forehead.
"We helped though," called Jayden, and you started laughing. 
"That's also very true," Bradley confirmed. "Couldn't have pulled this off without all eighteen of you."
Marty shrugged. "That's pretty much all I have to say. It's so obvious that the two of you are made for each other. And I'm happy my friend isn't lonely anymore. Oh, and thanks for introducing me to Ruby." He blushed as he looked at his wife who then blew him a kiss. "Uh, so you can probably say some vows if you want to."
"Right," you agreed, handing your flowers to Bradley as you pulled the paper airplane from between two roses. 
"Nice touch," he told you as you unfolded it, and he was all smiles when you looked up into his brown eyes.
"I learned from the best." You smoothed the page out in your hands. Your handwriting looked a little blurry as you realized there were tears in your eyes. After you read the few words you'd written from your heart, Bradley would do the same. And then you'd be married. You were almost dizzy with anticipation as you grinned up at him in his white hat which was slightly crooked now. "Bradley. You give me these butterflies in my tummy. All the time. From the very start. At first, I thought it was just a novelty. An extremely attractive man was taking time out of his day to humor me and my students? Butterflies galore." Bradley ducked his head and blushed, and when you reached up to touch his name tag, he met your gaze again. "But then I noticed a pattern. I felt them anytime I shamelessly thought about you. Whenever I reread your letters. When I refreshed my inbox hoping for a little note. When a box arrived for my class. Butterflies."
"Gorgeous," he whispered, cheeks still pink. "Baby, I was falling in love with you."
You laughed when he kissed your forehead again. "I was falling in love with you, too. But imagine my surprise when your deployment was ending and you asked me out. And then you made my students and I a priority the very first day you were back. And you've made me a priority ever since. Bradley, the butterflies don't stop, and I don't want them to."
He nodded. "I want you to have them forever. I promise I'll try to make that happen."
"I know you will," you whispered. "And I promise to dispose of all the spiders for you." He barked out a laugh. "And I will always say your name just to watch you melt a little bit. And I promise to talk aviation to you and always make sure you eat and always say I love you."
"Well, shit," he grunted, then his eyes went wide as he glanced at the kids and back to your face. "I mean, shoot. All of that sounds like everything I want." He cleared his throat, and you took your flowers back from his big hand. "I didn't actually write my vows down, because they are simple. They are never going to change. Sure, we got to know each other by writing and typing out our thoughts and feelings. And yeah, I still love getting a notification on my phone and reading what you sent to me. But nothing compares to hearing your voice. Nothing compares to how good I feel when I can tell you how much I love you in person."
"Bradley," you whispered, eyes and nose burning with unshed tears.
"I know, Gorgeous. It overwhelms me, too. You already have my heart. You own it. Everything I have to offer is yours. I just ask for three things in return." You pressed your lips together to keep from sobbing. "First, I'm so serious about the spiders, okay? If you see one, don't even tell me about it, just make it go away, alright?" You nodded and laughed through your tears. "Second, I need you onboard with movie nights on the little couch forever. I like that you end up laying on me because there's not enough room. I like staying in for the night with you."
"It's my favorite," you whispered. "Let's do it forever. What's number three?"
Bradley smiled and leaned a little closer. "Number three. I just need you to talk to me. However you can. Let me hear your voice. Email me. Text me or call me. Write me a letter or fill up a journal. Anything. All of it. I just need you to talk to me no matter where I am. I'm pretty sure that will get me through anything."
You were nodding in agreement as you thrust your bouquet at Marty and threw your arms around Bradley's neck. When your lips met his, you felt the butterflies. "I can do that," you promised before he kissed you harder. 
You could hear your former fourth graders all cheering, and then Marty said, "I guess as far as I'm concerned, you're married." 
You were wrapped up in Bradley's warm grasp as he kissed you until Natasha had to say, "There are children present!" When he finally pulled away, you watched his eyes grow wide.
"We forgot the wedding bands." He dug around in his pocket and pulled them out, slipping yours into place right away. "I want mine on, too. Been looking forward to wearing it for weeks."
"I know you have," you told him, lingering on the feel of his rough hand against yours as you slide it on. "It looks good on you. Now, I think it's time for you to have some spaghetti."
---------------------------------
Bradley moaned as he bit into a chocolate pastry that melted in his mouth. It was buttery and delicious, and about to be topped off by the cup of coffee in front of him. "I was wrong," he grunted.
You looked at him across the cafe table, tucked under the awning and out of the rain that landed on the cobblestone street ten feet away. "Wrong about what?" you asked, brow creased in concern.
He held out the pastry for you to nibble on as he said, "Paris isn't just the city of love and the city of sex. It's also the city of food."
You laughed and covered your mouth as you chewed. "You've had plenty of all three since we got here, Bradley."
"I sure have," he agreed, thinking about all the frilly French lingerie inside the shopping bag at your feet. "And I would really like to have some more of each."
"And here I was concerned you'd miss Thai dinners on the beach and the food at Salvatore's."
"Oh! I should talk to them about putting chocolate pastries on their menu."
"You would bug to go there every day."
"Nah," he said, taking a sip of the best coffee he'd ever had. "Not every day. Nothing beats hanging out on our couch. Now, how many of these should we take back to the hotel?" he asked, holding up the last bit of the snack before popping it into his mouth. He moaned as it melted away on his tongue. "I'm just going to go inside and have them pack up whatever they have left."
"We can come back tomorrow!" you said with a laugh. "We're in Paris for three more days, Bradley."
"I love the way you think, Baby," he replied with a nod. "We'll take a bunch back now, and then we'll come back tomorrow."
When you and he headed out into the rain, he kept you tucked against his side along with the box of pastries and the bag of lingerie while he held the umbrella. 
"Looks like there's nothing much to do for the rest of the afternoon," you said casually. "Seems like a pretty good time for you to have more love and sex and food."
"Let's go, Mrs. Bradshaw. I think you have some things to try on for me."Thirty minutes later, all the lingerie you tried on was already removed again, but only after he'd taken some pictures. And now you and he were doing the same thing you'd done at least once per day since you checked into the hotel room which overlooked the Champs-Élysées and the Eiffel Tower beyond.
"Oh god," you moaned, on your hands and knees, naked on the bed. Bradley had his hands on your hips, holding you still so you could enjoy the view of the rainy city while he fucked you from behind. "It's so pretty here," you whined.
"Look at me, Baby," he coaxed, running his left hand complete with wedding band up along your back. He stroked your neck as you turned your head to show him your beautiful face and fucked out expression over your shoulder. "It's Gorgeous."
------------------------------
He's such a dream. And he's living his best life! Please stay tuned for a poll and then the epilogue which will complete this series! Thanks for reading! And thank you @beyondthesefourwalls
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498 notes · View notes
originalwinnerfanfish · 2 months ago
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Well, I did it
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Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.
So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)
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Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!
I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)
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Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)
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Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.
I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)
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Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.
Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅
I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool
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Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).
Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains
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Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!
I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).
Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing
(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)
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Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…
I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)
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P.s.
I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.
During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU
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solarmorrigan · 10 months ago
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.
After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.
‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.
“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.
“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.
“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.
“He was not,” Eddie confirms.
“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.
“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.
Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”
Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”
“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.
“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”
There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.
“You two have a fight?”
“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.
“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.
Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”
There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.
“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.
Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.
“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.
Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”
Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”
“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”
“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”
“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.
“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.
“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”
Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”
The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.
“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.
“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”
“Eddie…”
“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”
Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.
“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.
“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”
He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.
“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.
“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.
“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.
“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.
“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.
“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”
Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”
“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.
“Think so?” Eddie asks.
“Mm.”
“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”
Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.
Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.
-
It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.
It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.
In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.
“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.
“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.
“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.
It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.
“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.
Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.
“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.
“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”
In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.
“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.
Steve sighs. “Eddie…”
“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.
“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”
“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.
It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.
“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”
Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”
“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”
“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.
“Steve–”
“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”
“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”
“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.
“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.
Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”
Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.
It hurts, but it’s fair.
“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.
Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.
“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”
“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.
“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”
That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”
“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”
“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”
It’s better than an outright ‘no.’
“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”
(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)
Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”
Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.
“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.
He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.
But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.
If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.
Part 5
-
Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e
I did my best to catch everyone, but there were a few people Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Sorry if I missed you!
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jarofstyles · 4 months ago
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Flower 2
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Okay so I really love these babies so I think I'm gonna do 3-5 parts! I'm loving the tension hehe. Let me know your thoughts!
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WC-4.6k
Warnings- mention of age gap romance, mention of bdsm, mention of bad sexual experiences, loads of sexual tension, low-key sugar daddy h, trust me
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Sleep didn’t come too easily for her, but she felt absolutely wired when she woke up. Her coffee only made it worse as she wrapped herself up in the dark wash denim jacket she’d borrowed from Harry when he drove her home a few weeks back. His truck pulled into the driveway and she was grabbing her tote bag and phone, making sure to lock up before turning to face him. 
There was a weird expression on his face- something she couldn’t place. It wasn’t quite angry or mad, but it was a little darker as his eyes ran over her face and then body. He remained quiet until she got down her porch steps. “S’that… my jacket?” He asked lowly. The tone was strange to her as he stepped closer, tugging on the collar of it. 
“Yeah, it’s really cute and I figured I could wear it around today and give it back to you at the end. Is that… is that okay?” She worried her brows. “I can take it off now if you want to wear-“
“No.” He cut her off. “No, it’s totally fine. It just… it looks really good on you, is all.” He mumbled, squeezing her shoulder. “You look beautiful, as always.” His compliment was genuine, feeling his finger tap her nose, making her crinkle it. “Put the shiny stuff on it again? Your fairy sparkle?” 
Y/N laughed out loud at his nickname for her highlight on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Mhm. I got a new pink one, think it suits me.” And maybe she’d been a lot more meticulous about her makeup now that she had a feeling this may be a more-than-friends situation. “I really like this look.” It was a tease, considering he wore the same thing off duty. Jeans and some sort of tee shirt with a quirky phrase or obscure musician on them. Today’s was relatively tame with a bee surrounded by some words about honey and health. Cute. “I actually like the tee today. A bit muscle-y.” His arms looked real fucking nice in this one. Of course he would have some considering he worked with his hands and was a pretty physical person but… damn. She allowed herself to admire it, respectfully. 
It wasn’t something she’d caught before but a slight pink brushed his cheeks at her compliment. “Thanks, petal.” He smiled. “I… I got us some coffee, got your favorite. It’s only half an hour away but I figured….”
“You know I love coffee. You’re the best, as usual.” She sighed, leaning into him to have a hug. It wasn’t usual for her to do it first but he reacted quickly, pulling her close as he rubbed her back, content to keep her there forever. He was never the first to pull back from a hug, but Y/N would happily stay like this for hours  if the option was there. He smelled good, was so warm and sturdy and he knew exactly how to play with hair. Unfortunately she did have to pull back, shooting him a shy smile as he took her by the shoulder to the car. 
Of course he opened the door for her, made she she was in properly before jogging to his own side. He ever did the whole hand on the back of the seat while backing out move, which… wow. It never missed. The weirdest turn on, but something about it just elevated a man. 
His car smelled ridiculously good, and judging by the little clips on his air vents, he had just changed them. He had a few lanyards for access to work yards and membership cards to certain stores, but no fun little fuzzy dice, or a air freshener with a kitty on it like she had. There and then, she took a mental note to get him one. Maybe a puppy one, though. His German shepherd was his best friend.
“Are you getting any books?” She asked him after a little time passed. The chatter had been casual so far, easy. The tension she felt since last night wasn’t bad in the car if she continued topic switching and slight gossip. 
“Mm, I dunno. I haven’t done much reading lately. What are you gonna get?” He questioned, sneaking a peek at her as they stopped at a red light. 
“Probably romance. I’ve been most interested in that. I’ve seen some good book recommendations online and the girls sent me some, Gia and I wanted to do a book club thing for one of the books by our favorite author. It’s a bad boy romance but it’s called Reaper.” She figured he’d have no idea what that was, but she watched his brow raise as he gave her a look. 
“Well… you do have a naughty side, don’t you?” He snickered, watching her eyes widen. “Think m’clueless? Just because I don’t read a lot doesn’t mean my ears don’t work. Tony told me his wife was reading that and it’s full of sex. Basically erotica.” He licked his lip, looking her over. 
“Oh- well, yes there’s sex but there’s plot to! Just because a book has sex doesn’t mean it isn’t good!”’she crossed her arms, huffing at him. It was a bit to rile him up a bit considering he was doing it to her and it worked. She watched his mouth open and close before rushing out an explanation. 
“No! No, m’not saying that. It’s not bad at all. It’s empowering, but uh, I was just saying I didn’t expect you to read books like that.” He had to pull away as the light turned green but he looked a little stressed that he offended her. 
“I’m joking, H. I know you didn’t mean it like that.” She snickered, watching his face turn to a bit to a scowl. “What, you thought I’m a nun or something? Just cause I’m not spilling all my stories at the table doesn’t mean I don’t have them.” She knew a lot of the group was very open about their sexual experience which was more than fine with her. Y/N was nosy and loved knowing other people's business, But in her life she didn’t share sex related things. It was private, for her and her partners. She didn’t want to betray their trust either, regardless of the terms they were on. 
“I….” His face was more pink now, hands flexing around the wheel as he cleared his throat. “I just thought maybe you didn’t care as much about it. Which is fine, by the way! It’s cool. I just wasn’t sure you cared too much. You never talk about it when we have our confession nights so I… I was being a bit presumptuous. I’m sorry. It just shocked me a little.” 
It was funny to make him squirm a bit but he didn’t need to feel bad. “It’s fine. Promise. No one really asks anyway, so I don’t offer it up first. I’m usually private about it because some of our friends are loud mouths but you can ask me stuff if you want. Maybe after we get our books you can ask me whatever questions come up.” She knew there would be plenty based on his face alone. 
“Really?” He seemed surprised. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not trying to be weird or anything but you know about the time I called someone by the wrong name and the girl who put her tongue in my ear so….” He shrugged one shoulder. 
“Oh, god.” Her giggle was muffled by her hand. He had shared some of his horror stories and she’d found out he was a bit of a bondage fan and dabbled in kinky stuff but until now that info had been locked away in her brain under padlock and key. Suddenly someone had taken nippers to the lock and it was spilling out again, staining the floor. “Yeah… I suppose that is fair.” Angling her knees towards her, she stirred her coffee with the straw. “I think the worst thing that’s happened to me… hm. Probably the time I went home with a guy after a few dates in college and his place was really gross, but he was even more so. Like…” her nose scrunched. “Took his pants off and there was a smell coming from them. I couldn’t do it.” 
“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, wincing at the thought. That was pretty much a nightmare situation. Harry always smelled good and never seemed to be anything but hygienic so she knew he gave a shit about it but still. No one wanted to think of that. “That’s… unfortunate for both of you. Was he embarrassed? How did you get out of it?” 
“He wasn’t, is the thing. Said ‘girls should like a natural musk’ and I told him that it wasn’t a musk, it was a stench. He wasn’t happy with that so he didn’t refuse when I left. I had to take a long shower after that.” Shuddering in disgust, she hated recalling that. “At first I felt really guilty too, cause that’s such a hard thing… but he ended up being such a dick. It was surprising considering he had been sweet on the dates but apparently men change a lot in the bedroom.” That was an understatement. 
“I can agree with that, but I’d hope it’s a positive change.” He shook his head at the thought. “Like, sweet in the streets and freak in the sheets or whatever the saying is.” 
A laugh peeled from her throat, leaning her head against the headrest with her face turned towards him. “Yeah, close enough. But ideally they would be. I dunno, you don’t have to be crazy to be good in the bedroom but I’d hope for the same level of respect. Some men have no idea how to actually handle women so it’s partly why I stopped dating.” And why she had stayed up looking at his Instagram last night and thinking about how she’d look inserted in his life. Harry seemed like a man who could potentially handle her. 
“I wish I could disagree but I can’t. I’ve heard many horror stories from girls, way more traumatizing than men. It’s why…” he stopped himself. “Sorry, was gonna overshare. But I can only imagine how it is and if it’s any consolation, I’m sorry for all the men.” 
God, he was cute.  But… wait. 
“No no, you can definitely  overshare.” She perked up. “If you want to, anyway. I don’t mind.” Blinking at him, he cut a look at her and let out a laugh as he lifted a hand to run it over his chin, the slight sound of skin scratching stubble audible in the cab of his truck. 
“Well, I was gonna say it’s why I try t’be aware of that when I’m with someone that their comfort is first. If there’s anything they don’t like they can say it, that m’not gonna be mad. I don’t want someone to walk away from something with me and feel uncomfortable.” Seeing him a little shy was really fucking adorable. “I don’t really do hookups anymore. They’re not fulfilling, at least not to me. Lost their appeal a few years ago but, the few relationships I’ve been in the whole goal was to make them feel good. I think there’s a lot of selfishness that’s mainly revolved around men and sex, which I noticed a lot. The fact that a lot of women aren’t getting off at all is fucking ridiculous.” He scoffed, looking truly bothered by it. 
Another point added to his growing list. 
“Yeah, it is. It was rare I could because for me, and I think a good amount of women, there needs to be the foreplay aspect of it. Mentally, I need to be stimulated. Y’know, like teasing or not so clean talking.”
It was her turn to feel a little shy but she powered through. “And men can dive right in. It’s where we differ a lot of the time. I think part of it is biological too, I guess. I tried hooking up for a while but it never did anything for me either. I prefer someone with a connection so it’s easier to get to that point.” Now she was the one oversharing. 
“I understand that. I like those things too. A bit of cat and mouse can be fun…” he pushed his hair back before returning his hands to the wheel, squeezing it. “It’s laziness and selfishness. I’d say for me personally, M’more of a giver. Not saying it to praise myself or anything but it’s just… it’s what I like.” There was a pause. “Sorry if that’s a bit much.”
No, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. Her neglected cunt was more than interested in how he was in bed and if he’d like to be a giver for her, but she had to at least try to behave. 
“It’s not. We’re just being honest, right?” She placed a hand on his knee, giving a daring squeeze and let it linger for a few moments before peeling it away. Again, testing the waters of initiating touch. Once she’d realized last night that she hadn’t shown her own interest much she had vowed to at least try today to see how he'd respond.
In this instance his smile grew and he couldn’t look right at her, but he nodded at what she’d said. “Yeah. I jus’ don’t want to seem like some creep. But uh, what other sort of books do you like? Romance, yeah, but what sort of tropes?” He did know some of those. 
“Oh, I’m pretty adventurous.” A double meaning. “I like the grumpy and sunshine ones, the billionaire romances, mafia is a guilty pleasure. Meet cute is something else I enjoy for a light read. I dunno, I think I mainly go for what the summary calls to me for. I do read some darker stuff but it’s nice to have a little fantasy world to escape to. And the fantasy men know how to find a clit.” Throwing the joke in there was meant to diffuse some of tension but somehow it seemed to make it grow. 
Not in a bad way, per say, but he looked at her curiously. “Don’t tell me that all of them couldn’t….”
“No, no. Some of them did, but majority no. They rub the side and think they’re doing something. But I’ve never faked it, I refuse to give a man an ego boost for something he didn’t do.”
“Good on ya, petal. S’bullshit that they get off and you don’t.” He genuinely seemed bothered by it. “Buncha pricks is what they are.” 
“They are.” She snickered. “But I’ll let you read some of the blurbs for the books I pick out today, you can get a read on what sorta books I like.” It was yet again, another way to experiment. 
“I’m very intrigued to see what you’re into.” 
Y/N hopes that held a double meaning too. 
—-
Harry was hovering a bit. 
Normally that would annoy her. She’d huff and tell him to sit in the cafe, or go look at his own books- but she hoped that it was because he was paying attention to what she picked up. 
Plus, he was holding the basket for her. 
The store was earthy and rustic, exposed wooden beams running along the ceilings. There was a little cafe that served teas and coffees which she definitely planned on getting after her shopping, and from her nosy look over when Harry greeted the owner she had seen a blueberry scone. That would be coming home with her too. 
The shelves were high and they had multiple different sections. It was far bigger than any indie bookstore she had been to in the past , and that lead her to quickly realize quickly she was going to make a monthly trek out here. Maybe Harry would be interested in joining her in them. 
Maybe he’d be interested in doing a lot more with her. 
“I’m almost done.” She promised, plopping a used copy of a vacation town romance into the basket. It had to be a little heavy but Harry didn’t complain. It didn’t even look like the weight bothered him, the basket hanging off his arm. They’d stuck mostly to the used section considering they were far cheaper, but she was ready to go for the new ones now. 
So what if she took a little bit out of her savings for this? She deserved a little treat for once. 
“There’s no rush, Flower.” He assured her, following closely behind her as she moved towards the new books. “I was wondering if….” There was a pause as she looked up at him. It seemed to make his brain buffer for a moment, his eyes looking over her face before he blinked out of the stare. “Uh, it you wanted to have lunch or something after?”
Why was he so cute, and why did he look so nervous? Maybe Y/N wasn’t giving the signals she needed to. That would be her own fault, but it was hard to flirt when she was as serious as she was about her books. 
“On the condition that the iced mocha with a pump of caramel and the blueberry scone I get for the car ride doesn’t count as lunch, yes. I would very much enjoy that.” She chirped, watching the nerves melt off of his face. It was mind boggling that her of all people could cause him to be nervous in the slightest but you learned something new every day. 
“I’ll agree, because that’s more suitable for a dessert.” He drawled. Harry did like to tease her about her sweet tooth which always made her roll her eyes. So what if a girl liked to have a brownie with each meal? Life is nothing but spinning on an orb in space. You may as well enjoy the creature comforts. 
“If that’s your dessert I don’t think you’ve had a true one in a while.” The flirtation was light, testing the waters as she looked over the book covers. His eyes could be felt on the side of her face as he was quiet for a moment before letting out a little laugh. 
“Suppose I haven’t. You’re right. Maybe I’ll need to try yours and see what you mean.”
And oh. Oh. She did everything in her power not to react besides a little smirk, though she could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Harry could most defintely try her dessert whenever the fuck he wanted. 
“Should you be so lucky.” Was her slightly snarky reply, but he followed it up quite quickly. 
“One could only hope, Petal.” 
And yeah, maybe she felt her new heartbeat between her thighs as the newly heavier silence settled on them like oil in water, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. The anticipation was in her stomach as he got a bit closer, looking over her shoulder at the book she had picked up and was currently reading the back of. 
“What’s this one?” He asked, so close that she could feel the heat of his body against her back. 
“It’s called The Highest Bidder. It’s about… a girl who goes on an auction block at a BDSM club, he is one of the owners? Well he’s one of the richest. Anyways, I saw someone recommend it saying it has sugar daddy vibes and there’s some juicy stuff in it.” Y/N explained, taking the moment to lean back into him as she held the back cover for him to read. 
If he was surprised he didn’t show it. Instead, his hand came up to rest on her shoulder, pinky finger nearly grazing the side of her neck as he looked over to read. Such a casual touch of affection, but he seemed to like it. “And you’re gonna get this one?” It was a bit weirdly arousing feeling the vibrations of his words through his chest and onto her back. 
“I think so. I haven’t read an age gap for a while. Just hope the sex scenes aren’t shit. It’s hard to tell with books sometimes, even if they’re more kinky oddly enough. I’ve seen books that have the best summaries and seem super steamy have a two pump sex scene- or fade to black. Which, you know, is fine. Not all books need to have that, but what’s the point of making the book seem like it then?” She muttered. Clearly she had been victim to it a time or two.  “Then the authors get mad about low goodreads reviews. It’s like, cmon! Don’t mislead the readers about the book then.” 
It was something the woman did get passionate about when provoked, but Harry had opened that can of worms in the car when he had given his go ahead that he didn’t mind discussing things like this with her. 
“Mm. I see.” He nodded and she swore she could hear the smile in his voice. “Show me the others you want to get.” 
Y/N felt increasingly more comfortable as she went through the next five books, letting him read the back covers and giving him the low-down about what she had heard about them. Each time they moved their position would go back to where it was, with his hand on her shoulder and her back leaned into him, only he had gotten a little braver with running his smallest finger back and forth over the side of her neck. 
It nearly made her choke when she first felt it. She definitely stuttered when he did it, but she didn’t comment on how the little action felt incredibly intimate and soft, yet charged with an unspoken sexual energy that would probably kill her if she thought about it too long. Harry was being casual about it, but he always had been. He’d been the first to initiate most touches with her that Gia said were abnormal. Of course he didn’t start off their friendship by being super grabby and touchy but it had morphed into that, and it definitely did take him by surprise when she had initiated last night and again today. Kind of like she was reinforcing that it was more than okay to touch. 
“Are you sure you’re done?” He asked after placing her final book in the basket. Y/N felt like if she didn’t stop this weird, hot position of him asking questions about the books earnestly and his chaste-yet-sexy touches she may bend over the book table and get inappropriate really fucking fast. 
“Mhm.” She assured him. “Please, I’m gonna have to dip into the rainy day fund to afford all the stuff from today but it’ll be so worth it.” The sun shone through the windows and highlighted his features which, god, had her testing her own willpower. Of course she was far too shy to be super direct with him verbally, but she didn’t hide the fact that she was admiring him. 
Considering she had already been successful in her little experiments today, she saw the lock of hair that had flopped over his forehead and decided to push it back. Letting her fingers card through his hair, she pushed the strands out of his face and back into place. If she hadn’t been looking so intently she wouldn’t have seen the shiver he had from the action. His hair was so soft and obvious that Harry took care of it, and she had never really touched it all that much but the temptation had been too much. “Sorry, it was bothering me so it must have been bothering you.” She said simply, giving him a small smile. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom quickly and then we can check out. Okay?”
“Course.” He cleared his throat, nodding his head as if the question had taken a moment to load in his head. “I’ll be by the cafe then.”
Y/N really hated that bookstores made her have to go in there but it was a right of passage. Taking care of her business took only a few minutes, but when she came out she didn’t see him at first. 
He wouldn’t just leave her, so it took her a second to realize he was leaving the counter, two bags of books hanging off his arms and two coffees in the little tray. A brown paper bag clutched crumbled in the hand he used to balance the drink tray, making her eyes widen.
“Hey! I was gonna pay for our coffees and stuff.” She pouted as he approached. “You’ll have to let me get lunch then.” Her eyes went down to the two tote bags with the store logo on them. “Ooo, that’s so nice that they gave you these to hold them in. Let me just grab my wallet and we can go to the till to-“
“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off, shrugging a shoulder. There was a pregnant pause, her eyes blinking rapidly before her eyebrows crinkled. 
“What do you mean? I have to pay.”
“They’re paid for.” The reply was simple and matter of fact. Again, words escaped her as she looked between him and the books. 
“Did you-“
“I paid. It’s fine, Flower.”
“Uh, what?” Her eyebrows shot up as her stomach dropped. It did the weird thing that had her feeling a little lightheaded as he stood there, like he didn’t just spend probably close to two hundred on books. “No way I can accept that.”
“If I told you I got a discount for building this place will it help?”
“Harry.” She said quietly. “You…. Why?” 
“Because I’m happy you agreed t’spend the day with me.” The reply was so to the point, not hiding anything at all that it almost felt unreal. Hell, it did feel unreal because who the fuck spent two hundred on books for a friend? Granted, she had a feeling-or a hope- there was a crush in there, but it felt like a huge gesture. 
“You already do so much for me.” She swallowed the lump down her throat. “You help me at my place and you drive me home from get togethers and you buy me drinks when we go out and… I feel like it’s a lot. I surely don’t do as much for you.”
“I’d do even more if you let me.” He stared honestly, nothing but truth on his face. “So jus’ let me do this for you. I want to. It makes me happy.” 
Y/N didn’t know how to argue with that. Instead, she nodded, and reached to take the bag and coffee tray from him since he had the much heavier books. “Thank you. I could cry, probably.” That wasn’t a joke. Her eyes felt like they were stinging. 
“None of that, Petal.” He shook his head. “C’mon. I’ve got plenty of questions and you’ve got answers you promised me on the way here.” Without thinking twice, he grabbed her free hand with his own, tangling their fingers before leading her to the truck. 
Y/N had no idea how so much had changed in 24 hours,
But she had a feeling it was about to change a whole lot more.
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yourbloodysunrise · 4 months ago
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Loved the tall readers Have. Can you do short reader next?
🌤 — sure, why not!I like writing this :з
🌤 — despite the fact I know what about that request, pls, don't forget about mentioning fandom, it really makes it easier when I sort out requests in askbox.enjoy!
❝ What a cute little damn dangerous ninja! ❞
— FANDOM: NINJAGO
— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS X SHORT!READER
— ROMANTIC
— HEADCANONS
— READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL
— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, READER IN NINJA BY DEFAULT, SOME NINJAS ARE TURNED OUT CLINGY :o
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LLOYD:
☆ ┈ Considering Lloyd behaves yourself kinda childishly with a tall reader, then short reader is more fortunate.
☆ ┈ It doesn't matter if you're shorter than him or the same height as him, Lloyd doesn't really care.
☆ ┈ He looks a bit like a golden retriever to you. He often hangs around you, behaves nice to you, worries about you and protects you like the apple of his eye.
☆ ┈ Towards you, Lloyd is more of a gentle guy than your leader. Sometimes you will have to remind him of this when he starts to worry about you.
☆ ┈ He often worries about you, but not like other ninjas. He can be paranoid because of his past, and can often worry about you for a while so that he does not leave you for some time, but he respect you as a ninja so this is not happening often.
☆ ┈ Misako adores you!She like a second mother to you, always listen to you and help you with advice. About Lord Garmadon..It's more complicated, however, at the time when he was Sensei Garmadon, he treated you with respect and found you and Lloyd sweet as a couple.
☆ ┈ Lloyd may make jokes about your height sometimes, but he won't tease you about it. After all, he knows what it's like when you're short..
☆ ┈ If someone makes fun of you because of your height, consider that Lloyd has already gone hunting. After all, green ninja can't afford to have his partner insulted, right?
☆ ┈ In your spare time, he will invite you to watch a movie together while eating sweets. Of course, you can choose not sweets, but then bring him some, okay?
☆ ┈ In the ninja team, you are his soft spot. Lloyd may be a good leader, but he is a little embarrassed by the fact that he will command his partner.
☆ ┈ Dude just think that you're cute???
— "It's pretty cold outside..Wanna hold hands?We should stay close."
— "Oh, okay.."
— "It's summer, guys."
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NYA:
☆ ┈ Okay, she's a little confused, but it doesn't last long. Anyway, it's not so important that you're short, is it?
☆ ┈ As with a tall reader, Nya don't care much about your height, although in this case expect even more gestures of affection.
☆ ┈ For example, Nya will often pick you up in her arms if you can't reach something, or wrap her arms around you when you hug.
☆ ┈ She can be tactile, but it usually happens when you two are alone. Most of the time it's either a hug or you're holding hands, mostly because it's her favorite.
☆ ┈ Despite the fact that she is confident in your relationship, she is quite jealous. Even if it's just some random person flirting with you, or your fans, she's feels annoyed about it anyway. And if it's one of the villains, she's ready to tear them apart.
☆ ┈ Nya loves you, but she doesn't know how to say it, or even show it. Most of the time, the actions in your relationship are not as romantic as those of other couples, but you two have enough of it.
☆ ┈ You can take some of her old things, she doesn't mind. She's even amused by the sight of you walking around in her clothes.
☆ ┈ She's definitely not the kind of person who would worry about you just because of your height. Nya, of course, can certainly worry about your well-being, but she also knows that you can stand up for yourself.
☆ ┈ Kai can tease you about your height, but then he gets a portion of water on his head from Nya, so he usually doesn't do that.
☆ ┈ It still doesn't matter how tall you are, she just loves you.
— "What's so bad about be short?"
— "Do you want list or something?"
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JAY:
☆ ┈ Okay, let's be honest, he adores you with all his soul.
☆ ┈ Although, at your first meeting, Jay could have laughed at you for your height. Like, who are you, a child or a dwarf?
☆ ┈ Very soon he will be ashamed of it, and if you mention it, he will scream in shame and start asking you for forgiveness without stopping.
☆ ┈ Jay most likely fell in love with you when you first met, but don't understand it himself.
☆ ┈ For him, you are someone unrealistically cute because of your small stature, he will often mention it, but in the most parts he pretending it's all a joke.
☆ ┈ He likes how short you are. He always hugs you in a difficult situation, he copes with stress this way and feels more comfortable. You are his antistress, in a good way.
☆ ┈ Edna will cook for you everything that contains foods that are useful for growth. It's not because she doesn't like your height or anything, she just genuinely thinks you're vitamin deficient. Ed and Jay won't be able to talk her out of it, so suck it up lol.
☆ ┈ Jay is still a tame partner, but he protects you more. Yes, you are a ninja like him and everything like that, but what if you get hurt in a fight?Just let him be by your side, please?
☆ ┈ It can be repulsive, and if he notices it, he will stop following you everywhere, although he will still check on you over time. He's going crazy with longing and excitement, but he prefers not to tell you this.
☆ ┈ Guy just afraid that something bad might happen to you..Don't forget to tell him that you can take care of yourself, it calms him down a little.
— "Do you love me?"
— "We're literally dating!"
— "Yeah, but as friends or-"
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KAI:
☆ ┈ Although he won't show it to you, but he's just happy.
☆ ┈ Are you someone handsome, short and strong at the same time?Damn, you are literally his ideal!
☆ ┈ He sincerely believes that he should be a hero to you. His dream is that one day you will get into trouble, and he will be the one to help you. It's something for him..romantic.
☆ ┈ Kai always strives to present himself as the best ninja in your eyes. After all, he has to look presentable in his partner eyes!
☆ ┈ So expect him to often do something for you just to hear your praise. Although he sometimes does not understand it himself, he is literally fascinated by you. Kai has a great contrast in behavior with his partner.
☆ ┈ He is passionate but gentle with his partner. He often flirts with you and likes to touch you, but he also likes to be romantic with you, calling you sweetly and hugging you.
☆ ┈ In front of ninja fans, he always praises you, and if anyone tries to deny his praise, Kai would be really mad at them.
☆ ┈ In the original, Kai loves attention and wants to have a perfect reputation, but in a relationship with you, he focuses his attention more on you.
☆ ┈ You and Nya are best friends!Kai is constantly trying to protect you, but the two of you are still running forward towards dangers. Poor Kai…
☆ ┈ In battle, you act as a unit, you fight without problems, helping each other. You can say that you have a balance in your actions.
☆ ┈ A random idea that came to my mind: one day, you and Nya put dye in Kai's hair gel. In the morning, he didn't notice one and smeared it on his hair, which caused it to stain, and you and Nya watched it. As a result, the two of you had to run away from him, although you were more lucky because because of your short stature you hid under the sofa, but Nya was quickly caught...
☆ ┈ You are just a couple in love :3
— "Did I tell you that I love you?"
— "Yeah, right now."
— "Good."
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ZANE:
☆ ┈ It's not like Zane cares about your height, but he finds you cute.
☆ ┈ Like with a tall reader, he wants to make sure that your height does not cause you problems. The least he would want is for his partner to be upset about their height.
☆ ┈ Loves physical affection very much. Of course, Zane can verbally plunge you into the ocean of love, but there is something about when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his arms.
☆ ┈ You most likely fell in love with each other at the same time. You liked him because he was cute and funny with you, and he liked you for your personality.
☆ ┈ Sometimes you are both dependent on each other for something. He needs your help if something is wrong with him, and you need his help when you have problems because of your height.
☆ ┈ Zane is a gentle lover. He will never be able to tell you anything that could offend you. Zane loves to see you smile, to see how happy you are when you are doing what you love, and etc.
☆ ┈ I think Zane will often ask you to cook with him. Basically, you're just helping, he doesn't trust you with knives and a stove a bit, so you can do something basic. We all know that Zane is a damn good cook, but he is especially pleased to hear compliments about his food from you.
☆ ┈ He will support you in any of your hobbies, just tell him about it! (as long as it doesn't cross the line, of course)
☆ ┈ I think it would be a very nice dynamic: a tall, calm guy and his short partner, bonus points if you, reader, is chaotic or very active. Although these are just my personal ideas.
☆ ┈ Congratulations, you got a caring, sweet robot boyfriend!
— "We've been hugging for two hours."
— "Do you want to get up?"
— "No."
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COLE:
☆ ┈ Jeez, hope someone will help you...
☆ ┈ Cole is the tallest, so against his background you look like a little person next to the Eiffel Tower.
☆ ┈ He loves physical affection. Holding your hands, hugging you while he completely blocks you with his body, or lifting you up in a wedding style to kiss you is everything for him.
☆ ┈ Cole adores you, adores your height, and adores feeling when you get mad at him for teasing you.
☆ ┈ He is most likely much stronger than you, so he always tries to be careful with you, because he is afraid of accidentally harming you. At first you didn't understand why he was so careful with you, but then yoy just got used to it.
☆ ┈ Cole is still a watchdog for you, so no one can bother you, and if one of the ninjas does it (cough and look at Kai and Jay), then don't let them wonder why there will be stones everywhere in their things.
☆ ┈ As with tall reader, he will do his best to make a good impression on you. Even if it's dumb stuff..
☆ ┈ Likes to do things for you. There are times when Cole just decides to help you with something easy, he doesn't even try to explain himself.
☆ ┈ I imagine how you often dance with each other, but sometimes because of your height difference, you can trip over him and you both can fall. I hope he doesn't run over you…
☆ ┈ When you sleep together, you lie on top of him, because he is afraid that if you sleep next to him during sleep, he may lie on top of you and pin you to the bed.
☆ ┈ Perfect dynamic: the tallest ninja and the shortest ninja.
— "Could you stop trying to pick me up?It's start getting annoying."
— "Nooope."
— "Why?.."
— "You look funny when I do that."
..:*・゚☆.。.:*・゚゙。.:*・゚☆.。.:*・゚🌤
🌤 — another request done, yipee
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