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pidayforpi · 2 years ago

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Curiosity, Not Concern

Newton heard a commotion when he entered his uncle's lab.

He wasn't surprised at all. Uncle Gyro was known to be a workaholic.

However, he did let out a sigh, when he noted the glowing numbers and letters of 7:00pm on his electronic watch. Uncle Gyro was known to be a workaholic, although Newton really hoped he wasn't one for his own sake. His employer Scrooge McDuck had already put enough pressure on him. Newton didn't want his beloved uncle to put even more on himself.

Newton stepped further into the messy workshop, wandering towards the source of the noise. He tried not to make a sound with his footsteps so as not to disturb his hyper-focused uncle, although the heavy Junior Woodchuck backpack on his back and the box in his hands were making it harder. It sounded like someone was rummaging through piles of paper, with occasional grunts and complains.

Newton turned a corner, and was about to call out to his familiar uncle (and possibly beg him to go home)...

...when an entirely unfamiliar figure entered his line of sight.

Newton involuntarily let out a gasp, the volume of which was faint but loud enough for the stranger to catch. Newton immediately retreated to behind the corner, trying to think of any possibilities other than there being a trespasser. Perhaps that was a new helper of Uncle Gyro? Or a guest? Or maybe, his glasses were just dirty, and who he saw was indeed his uncle? Maybe he was just tired after a long day of scouting event?

"Hey! Who goes there!"

Before he could get a confirmation, the person in question had already found him hiding around the corner.

Newton found himself looking directly at a pair of bright, green eyes, seemingly glowing in the dark.

The sudden scare caused Newton to scream out in shock, falling backwards onto the floor. The stranger was slightly surprised as well. Of all people he had anticipated - be it Scrooge, Paperinik, or the actual Gyro Gearloose - a kid was not one of them.

Although, this was a kid he knew. Well, a kid Gyro knew. That's more or less the same thing.

"Newton...?" The stranger whispered, flipping the light switch on.

Upon hearing his name being called, Newton slowly opened his eyes, only to see...

"U-Uncle Gyro...?" At least, that's what Newton thought (and wished) he saw. "Uncle Gyro" now had a pretty funky appearance, however: Instead of simple blonde hair, this Gyro had a purple, spiky hairstyle. His pair of round glasses had been replaced by what seemed like circular sunglasses. His usual "green vest - red shirt - blue trousers" combo had now been changed to a salmon coat with a white jumpsuit underneath, along with a long, black cape. He also seemed to have long rubber gloves on his hands.

And of course, his black irises were now a striking emerald colour. Newton also didn't remember his uncle having such heavy bags under his eyes, however little sleep he usually got. Now he literally looked like a stereotypical mad scientist straight out of a textbook.

The stranger was about to panic, as he was spotted without any disguises on, and his flamboyant attire would undoubtedly raise at least some suspicion. However, hearing the nephew recognising him as his "Uncle Gyro" made the stranger a bit calmer.

Newton slowly got up from the floor, the box still held tightly in his hands. He took a closer look at the "Uncle Gyro" in front of him, which again made the stranger feel slightly uneasy. However, all Newton gave in response was a frown.

"Uncle Gyro, Halloween was way past this year. Just how long have you been staying in the lab?" Newton pouted, although it was more out of concern than annoyance.

"Huh...?"

"I know you are trying to be a cool uncle, but you don't have to."

"W-well...I..."

"Because you are already the coolest uncle I have ever had, Uncle Gyro."

Newton's sudden kind words made the stranger extremely flustered, he could feel his cheeks warming and reddening. When Newton was about to approach and give "his uncle" an affectionate nuzzle (not that he could hug with both his hands full), the stranger unwittingly confessed.

"U-um...I'm not actually your uncle, k-kid..."

"...Huh?"

The stranger immediately wanted to slap himself in the face. He was going so well with the masquerade.

Newton immediately backed away, as expected.

"W-what do you mean you are n-not Uncle Gyro...? W-who are you?! W-what are y-you doing in Uncle Gyro's l-lab?!" Newton continued moving away from his uncle's doppelgänger, extremely defensive upon knowing the truth.

The stranger wanted so badly to retract his words with a "just kidding!", but he knew that wouldn't work. Gyro Gearloose doesn't joke at all.

Seeing as the child was about to run away screaming, his brain ran as fast as it could to come up with a logical, convincing explanation.

And somehow, the best explanation was actually the truth.

"W-well, I'm...a clone! Of your Uncle Gyro!"

Technically the truth. He just omitted the "evil" part.

"A...a clone?" Newton blinked.

"Y-yea! You know...your Uncle Gyro is always soooo busy, and that miser Scrooge just won't hire him an assistant. So! Your genius uncle had the brilliant idea to make clones of himself! No need for wages, no need for interviews, but with the same bright mind and memories of the great Gyro Gearloose! That's why I know your name, Newton!"

The stranger was especially happy for the last part. Having Gyro's memories in his pockets made making excuses much easier.

Newton tilted his head, examining the "clone" from head to toe once more.

"But...if you are a clone, why do you look so...different from my uncle? Aren't clones mean to be exact copies...?"

"Oh, this?" At least the kid was convinced about the clone part. "Well, your uncle has to keep track of all his clones, doesn't he? A little appearance change would do just the trick!"

Newton's neurotic mind was still a bit skeptical, but his logical side convinced him that the person was probably telling the truth: No one could enter Uncle Gyro's highly secured laboratory without permission, after all. And cloning himself was not out of Gyro's league, nor was it unusual for the overworked scientist.

Swallowing his worries and fears, Newton approached the stranger once more.

"Okay. I trust you." Newton replied. "How does Uncle Gyro call you, though? He couldn't have named all his clones 'clone one, clone two', could he?"

"Well..." The stranger fidgeted with his gloved fingers. "You can call me 'Ducktor', kiddo."

Technically the truth, too. He just omitted the "Mad" part.

----------------------

"So...uh...what are you doing here, Mister Ducktor?"

Newton enquired, as the two chickens returned to the main lobby. "I don't see Uncle Gyro around..."

Mad Ducktor gulped silently. He couldn't tell the truth for this one. Even if that's just a child, he couldn't possibly say he was there stealing blueprints and inventions.

"W-well, I-I...am working o-overtime! Yes! So that your Uncle Gyro could take a break!" Ducktor smiled as friendlily as possible.

"O-oh...Would you know where Uncle Gyro is now?" Newton scowled slightly, the subtle change in the child's expression was enough to send Ducktor sweating cold sweat.

He was about to make up a complete lie, such as saying Gyro was out for a cup of coffee or on a toilet break. But he soon realised that would be too risky, as Newton just had to ask his uncle afterwards about where he had gone to expose the lie.

"He...uh...Sorry, I am not too sure..." Ducktor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Hopefully the kid couldn't hear his thumping heartbeats.

Newton paused for a moment, before the frown on his face deepened. Ducktor's hands balled into fists, nervously praying for Newton not to expose him.

Although, instead of fear or anger, the young chicken's expression only conveyed disappointment and sorrow.

"I...I see..." Newton's voice was soft, with a tint of melancholy. "S-sorry for disturbing your work, Mister Ducktor...I'll just l-leave..."

Newton really was about to turn heel and leave the premise, when Ducktor called out to the child.

"H-hey, wait...!"

A part of him was scared that the child had already seen through the lie, because that all seemed too easy.

"How about you? What are you doing here so late at night?"

Another part of him was genuinely curious.

"It's dangerous to go home in the dark. Would you like to wait for your Uncle Gyro?"

Curiosity, he reminded himself. Not concern. That was just the remnant of Gyro's mind playing tricks on him.

Newton stopped in his tracks.

"I..." Newton turned around, although his head was still hanging down. "I just wanted to give this to Uncle Gyro..."

Newton extended his arms, showing Ducktor the box of...

"MUFFINS?!" Ducktor yelled out in excitement, before immediately covering his beak. Needless to say, Newton was startled, but not to the point of running away at once.

"Y-yes...The guide leader taught us how to bake muffins today, so I thought I would share mine with Uncle Gyro." Newton explained, looking at the box of home-baked pastry with drooping eyes and a half-hearted smile. "Muffins are his favourite, after all. So I don't blame you for feeling so happy, Mister Clone."

Well, that answered where Ducktor got his strong muffin addiction in the first place. He had to stop himself from visibly drooling, when Newton opened the lid, letting the sweet aroma spread throughout the room. The smell of freshly baked muffins was driving him crazy.

Although, he had to do something about his urge, before he really went (even more) crazy for muffins in the worst time possible.

"M-m-may I t-try o-one of t-those, N-N-Newton...?" Ducktor stared at the golden brown crust, the scent of which was too strong for him to avert his nostrils.

Before Ducktor could snap back to his senses and chastise himself for making such a creepy request (he was Gyro's clone, not Gyro himself!), the child only shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly.

"Sure...Not that I can eat all of these by myself..." Newton extended his arms, allowing Ducktor to pick one.

"Oh! Thank you thank you thank you!" Ducktor swiftly grabbed one. He took a bit out of it, and he immediately wanted to squeal in happiness so badly. The buttery flavour filled his entire beak in an instant, before making its way up to his brain. The texture was just as perfect: Crusty on the outside, soft in the inside. Somehow, no amount of stolen muffins could best this one baked by a supposed amateur.

However, before he could absolutely devour the treat and ask for another, he couldn't help but notice the sad expression of the young boy.

Again: Curiosity, not concern.

Ducktor swallowed the piece in his mouth, before kneeling down to Newton's level.

"This is amazing, Newton." Ducktor smiled. "I am sure your Uncle Gyro will love this."

Newton chuckled, but only in courtesy. "Thank you, but I guess it is a bit too late for that..."

Ducktor tilted his head, his expression further softening upon see the sulking young chicken.

It was just a facade. It had to be. Ducktor kept telling himself.

"Why is that, Newton?" Ducktor led the child to a couch, pushing away stacks of documents and gadgets to make way for the two of them. Newton politely sat down, but the slouching posture only exaggerated his crestfallen emotions.

"You are really Uncle Gyro's clone, right?" Newton questioned. Ducktor nodded.

"Then, can I tell you something? Promise me you won't tell Uncle Gyro when he comes back, okay?" Newton continued, to which Ducktor nodded as well. The childish forewords before telling a secret made him smile warmly in his heart.

"Uncle Gyro will be gone for a long time after today. Apparently he has to go help Paperinik on an important mission out of town. Of course, I'm sure you already know that, being his clone and all." Newton sighed.

Of course Ducktor knew that. That's why he was looting Gyro's place tonight, because he knew the busy chicken wouldn't have time to deal with him afterwards. Although, what he didn't know was the nephew's unexpected understanding of his uncle's duty beyond merely a gadget man.

"I...I just want to cheer Uncle up with his favourite treat, even though I know it won't do any actual help." Newton sulked, his eyes wandering to the floor absentmindedly, while Ducktor patiently listened beside him.

"Of course I want to do something to actually help Uncle Gyro out! He has been doing so much for the world, for Duckburg...and for me. I want to repay him by lessening his burdens, instead of just being a useless cheerleader."

"But...but I just can't...Every single 'invention' of mine ends up a failure, either not working or outright blowing up. I have already done a lot of research, spent a lot of time fixing and tinkering...but it still ends up being a failure."

"...I still end up being a failure. A pathetic excuse of a Gearloose."

Newton kicked his leg up, as if hitting an invisible sandbag. He crossed his arms in frustration, although it looked more like he was hugging himself.

"I just wish I could be as helpful as Uncle Gyro. As smart, awesome, cool as Uncle Gyro."

"...I just don't want to be a burden..."

Ducktor stared at the sad child, his eyes in empathy. Empathy, for he really did feel the child's frustration, as much as he didn't want to admit it.

And he blamed the old memories of Gyro in his mind for that. The scene unfolding in front of him was strangely familiar.

A young Gyro Gearloose, crying to his grandfather Ratchet, on the night before his father Fulton had to go work overseas to feed his family.

"I just wish I could be as helpful as Dad. As smart, awesome, cool as Dad."

"...I just don't want to be a burden..."

Those words echoed in Ducktor's mind, as if he had been there in person.

He couldn't remember how Ratchet Gearloose had responded to his grandson. He couldn't remember what he had said to comfort the crying Gyro, or what he had done to stop the child's tears. The Gearlooses were known to be eggheads, not emotional fellows. They were not good with words at all. Although, he did remember young Gyro smiling afterwards, hugging his grandfather affectionately. He might not know how to show it, but Ratchet's love for his grandchild was an undoubted truth.

A law without proof, but a law that could never be challenged.

Perhaps the following was what Ratchet had done, and Ducktor just subconsciously replicated the action.

"You are doing great, Newton." Was all Ducktor said. A smile and a pat on the head were all Ducktor did.

Newton's eyes widened at the words of encouragement, and the soothing sensation on his head. It was just like what his beloved Uncle Gyro had always said and done, when he messed up another of his experiments. Even if he accidentally set something on fire or blew something up, Gyro would never blame him.

"There's always tomorrow."

With a kind, proud smile, Gyro would pat him on the head, gently caressing his soft blonde hair.

"You are doing great, Newton."

Immediately, Newton began sobbing, covering his eyes to hide the emerging tears, and his beak to silence the small whimpers.

Ducktor smiled softly at Newton, lightly patting the child's shoulders as a message that he was there for him.

And then, unexpectedly, he was hugged from the side, by no other than the child himself. Newton wrapped his arms around Ducktor's waist, burying his small head into the grown-up's torso.

It was a strange sensation of being hugged, for Ducktor had never been treated with love and kindness ever since his "birth". He was supposed to be a feared, villainous doppelgänger of Newton's uncle, yet here he was, being treated as if he was the real deal.

Although, as surprised as he was, Ducktor wasn't complaining.

He returned the embrace, gently patting the sobbing chicken's back in a soothing rhythm, like a father comforting his son.

Because he knew: That's what Gyro would have done.

That's what he would do.

----------------------

"So, where will you be going next? I can accompany you back home."

Ducktor asked the young chicken, as Newton picked up his stuff to get going before it was too late.

"Oh." Newton sniffed away his last bit of sorrow. "I'll be staying at McDuck Manor. My friends Huey, Dewey and Louie have agreed to let me stay there until Uncle Gyro is back from his trip. Their Uncle Donald is also going to be away too, for some reasons."

Ducktor gulped at the mention of his enemy's abode. Scrooge McDuck would definitely expose and pummel him to the ground if he was seen wandering around the property.

Still, he couldn't let Newton go home alone so late at night. He would accompany him to a certain point before parting ways.

"Y-you don't have to come with me." Newton muttered softly. "You have already done enough for me tonight. I don't want to be a burd-"

"Don't you say that, Newton Gearloose." Ducktor playfully winked. "I'm sure your Uncle Gyro would understand."

He quickly glanced around the laboratory, pretending to see if he had left any work undone. In fact he had done no work today. In the end, he stole no blueprint nor invention. All that effort breaking and entering would be for nothing. It wasn't that Ducktor had his hands tied because of the unexpected appearance of Newton - He still could have sneaked a thing or two into his pockets, or simply chased Newton away.

For some reasons, the young nephew of his archenemy made him forget any evil plans he would have had for that night.

'Dear Gyro, you should really thank your nephew for tonight...' Ducktor mused in his mind.

"Alright, then let's go! Choo-choo!" Ducktor helped Newton carry his heavy backpack, before placing his hands on the boy's shoulders like a train.

"Heh, heh. Cut that out, it's embarrassing!" Newton chuckled, protesting playfully. "Thank you, Mister...um..."

Newton paused, looking down at the floor sheepishly for forgetting the older chicken's name.

To which Ducktor patted the child's head gently, replying with a genuine smile.

"Ducktor. Mad Ducktor."

Curiosity, not concern?

Oh, who was he kidding?

(6-1-2023 ~ 9-1-2023)

#First time writing (some of) the chicken family :3 #Hopefully it makes sense #I know some of my buddies will be better at writing these chickens than I am orz #(For one MD is already sort of OOC but that kinda goes for most of my “villain” characters)#(also just a sudden idea/haven't written in a while so I'm sorry if the quality seems weird)#mad ducktor #newton gearloose #story #short story #storyteller

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gach-artblog · 1 year ago

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Step-by-step process!

1. Rough sketch

Just a general idea of what I have in mind: The two of them are leaning on a banister on some kind of rooftop with the sky with clouds behind them. The light source comes from behind the characters.

This one is actually one of my cleaner rough sketches because I need my client to understand what I'm doing haha.

2. Clean sketch + quick blue gradient for background

This one is a color sketch so the lines are a bit rougher than usual but don't worry, we'll make it work.

I didn't bother doing lineart for the golden details and trinkets on his outfit yet because I would draw the shape of them and use the border effect later. It's much quicker and less stressful.

3. Base color + a few adjustments

My client asked to have her MC's hair more wavy and change the daytime sky to nighttime because the two of them were at Devildom.

The background was just a simple blue- purple gradient with some added clouds (the cloud brushes were very helpful at this stage)

Looking back at this step, I think I could have done better by adding a bit more gradient on the hair and clothes to make it look less boring. (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

4. Apply shadow using the multiply mode

I have the light source coming from behind the characters for this one so I color picked the blue from the background and cast a big shadow over the two using multiply mode.

5. More detailed shadow + Highlights

I continued to add another multiply layer to make the shapes more recognisable (idk if it's the word but you know what I mean)

I also added highlights on the golden thing on Solomon's coat and applied a low opacity red overlay over the couple's face so that their blushing is more noticeable. (Yes they are so in love)

6. Adjust background colour + add a few sparkles

I could have stopped at step 5 and called it a day but nah, we gotta keep going. The sorcerer and his beloved apprentice need to be extra radiant for the three realms to see.

I used the tone curve and gradient map tool to shift the colours of the background and added a few sparkles and radial blurred them.

7. Last adjustments and done!

It was okay in step 6 but I still decided to make everything brighter at the end. I slightly blurred some parts in the corners to further make the characters the focus of this artwork.

Although this one is just a color sketch, I hope this step-by-step process post was helpful to you in some ways. Thanks a lot for reading till this far (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Commissioned by @/Uwu Uwu (FB)

I enjoy doing couple comm like this a lot because I got to hear about the pair's dynamics and cute interactions or headcanons my client has for them too :"D !

They are so adorable, like in a Disney movie I love them so much (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ Thanks a lot for commissioning me!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #illustration #commission #obey me mc #digital art #obey me solomon #fan art #art process #step by step #do you want more step by step posts like this in the future?#i dont want to do tutorials bcuz i am a noob myself lol and i believe everyone has their own artstyle so nothing is right or wrong #but i can share how i usually do art! i hope you find this helpful somehow

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

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Can I request a celebrity AU with Elizabeth Olsen and Female Reader? Where R is Vision in the MCU. And like throughout a series of interviews and behind the scenes shots, you can see how the two actually fall in love in real life. And in like the final interview they ask “Are you two dating?” And this time they can finally say yes

Hello darling, how are you? I hope well. This took me a while, and i’m not sure you’re even going to like it. But i hope you do. It was honestly kind of strange to write for Lizzie, i kept mistaken the name as Wanda. Also, i changed your idea a bit, because i could find the right way to write the interviews. But anyway, here it is. Good reading.

Elizabeth Olsen x Reader - Love is outside the screen

Summary: The one where Reader plays Vision in the MCU and she falls in love with her co-worker Elizabeth Olsen.

Warnings: None.

Words: 4.308 words //// Read on AO3

Marks: @wandamaximoffpuppy

Part. 2 || Part 3

Eight years ago

Your agent was calling you for the third time, and you thought you should answer before you lost your contract.

Letting out an impatient sigh as you reached for your cell phone, you left it on speaker.

- Hello, Sara. - You say with a slight irony as you relax your body in the water of the jacuzzi again.

- It's not polite to ignore someone who keeps you employed. - she said irritated, making you laugh.

- Sorry, but I told you I was on vacation. - You reminded her. - And what did you keep doing? Oh yes, calling me.

- Don't be so grumpy, woman. - She replied with a light humor in her voice, and you could hear the clatter of keystrokes, suggesting that she was working. - I have an opportunity for you.

You raised your eyebrows in curiosity, but said nothing. And by your silence, Sara kept talking.

- Tell me, have you ever thought about being a superhero?

You let out an incredulous laugh, thinking it was a joke.

- I'm not going to make any weird latex movies, Sara. - You warn her, and she lets out a laugh.

- Actually, honey, it's Marvel.

You blink in surprise, and then turn to rest your arms on the edge of the jacuzzi and look directly at your cell phone.

- What are you talking about?

- Ah, caught your interest, huh? - She remarks. - You actors are all the same, one famous name and you fall to your knees.

- Sara...

- No, it's okay. - She giggles. - They want a openly queer actress to play a lesbian heroine, I think. And then they called me.

- Wow, Marvel doing something like that? - You comment. - It sounds like a lie.

Sara giggles.

- It pays well anyway. - She says, and then a notification pops up on the screen. - I just sent you the script. Let me know if I can confirm your audition.

You let out a sigh before saying goodbye and hanging up, grabbing your cell phone to read the script.

It is the scene description of your character's appearance, and there is also a note for the chemistry test. You bite your lips thoughtfully. You were known in the media for roles in international, indie and cult films, mostly lesbian romance. You had a few academy nominations, and had been awarded twice by the critics. Superheroes were not really what you were looking for. But then you remembered how much you missed having a lgbt reference in media like this, and then you are sending a message to your agent confirming your audition.

//-//

Present

You are twiddling your thumbs in your dressing room. It must be the ninth interview in less than two weeks. Letting out a sigh, you stand up, momentarily looking at your appearance in the mirror. The make-up team did a good job, you look well. And then you are walking outside, to the dressing room next to yours.

You knock on the door, and are soon answered. But Elizabeth doesn't smile when she pulls you inside.

- Hey, Lizzie, what's up? - you ask worriedly as you close the door. The next second she's hugging you tight, and you sigh. - You're anxious, aren't you?

- I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my mouth. - She grumbles and you start stroking her back, trying to calm her down.

- Remember that exercise we practiced, okay? - You ask her tenderly as you move your feet so that you move together toward the sofa in the living room. You break the embrace slowly, to sit Lizzie down on the couch as you kneel in front of her. She looks on the verge of tears, and you place your hands on top of hers. - Breathe with me, okay?

It will take you many minutes to calm her down, but you don't care. And then she smiles, and brings your foreheads together.

- Thank you. - She whispers before kissing you. She walks away too quickly in your opinion, but you can't say anything because the producer is calling you next, announcing that the interview starts in two minutes. You smile at Liz before getting up.

//-//

Seven years ago.

You had just finished filming your last scene in Age of Ultron when your agent called you. Scrolling your finger quickly across the screen, you answered while your cell phone rested on the table in your dressing room, and you kept your hands busy trying to pin up your hair.

- I'm leaving the studio, Sara, what's up? - you told her.

- I wanted to congratulate you on the affair, although I'm surprised it happened so quickly. - She says and you frown in confusion, finishing up with your bun. You pick up your cell phone next.

- What are you talking about?

Sara giggles, and sends you an attachment. You pull your cell phone away from your ear to look at it. It is a photo of you and Elizabeth, your teammate and romantic partner in the franchise, taken the same day you discovered Liz had social anxiety and took her out for coffee with you to take her focus off the celebrity world for a while. The paparazzi managed to capture the exact moment when you kissed her on the cheek in farewell.

- This is all over the gossip sites as Marvel's mysterious romantic couple. - Your agent commented, and you rubbed your fingers across your forehead in irritation.

- You want me to publicly deny a relationship, is that it? - you ask, walking around the dressing room and gathering your things.

- What? No! This is great for advertising. - she says with slight excitement in her voice. - Especially after the movie comes out! Fans love couples who fall in love behind the screen.

You roll your eyes, switching your cell phone to your ear.

- I'm not going to make a relationship contract if that's what you're thinking! - You say with irritation and can imagine Sara rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

- Yes, yes, we've been over this, Miss Morally Correct. - She scoffs lightly. - But I really called to talk about the premiere. We have details to discuss.

Sighing, you ask her to wait. Then you finished putting your things away, and grabbed the phone as you walked out the door.

//-//

Six years ago, California

Interviewers can be motherfuckers when they want to be, you thought as you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your face impassive as you watched the woman in front of you list the "missed moments" from the Avengers set. You knew that your agent had talked to the show's staff about the authorized questions, and yet here you were on live television, having to declare whether the timely photos taken on the Avengers set meant that you had a secret relationship with your best friend Elizabeth Olsen.

A slideshow was playing on the screen behind you. There were pictures from the footage, many where you and Liz were laughing together, or having lunch together. There were some where she was sitting on your lap, or vice versa. Your expression softened when you noticed one where she was looking at you adoringly. It was so strange to be an artist sometimes. You smiled politely at the presenter.

- Come on, Ellen, you know how these things are. - You said. - Things are different on camera, Lizzie and I are friends.

The audience let out a chorus of displeasure, and Ellen laughed lightly.

- You know that many of the fans would like this rumor to be true, especially since you two play a couple and you are openly queer. - She says, and you wiggle your fingers in your lap, uncomfortable with where this conversation is going, but you nod in agreement. - Furthermore, you say that the paparazzi cameras are deceiving, but what about the stories you post on your personal networks?

She asks with a chuckle, and then other videos are playing on the screen, and you force yourself to smile and watch.

The vast majority are harmless, and platonic. You spend a lot of time at Liz's house because when she moved in, you were her reference and tour guide, and so you got into the habit of checking up on her. And then you became friends and you spent more time at her house than at yours.There were many videos and pictures on yours and her instagram where you two were tending a garden, playing board games, cooking together, or watching sports. You bit back a smile as you watched the memories through the images.

- See?It's hard to believe that this is just platonic. - Ellen insisted again, and the audience laughed. You tried to cover it up with a smile. - But since you claim to be single, we're going to play a game now. It's called "Who Would You Rather?

The audience applauded and you giggled, straightening your posture in your chair. And then the studio screen had a sign with the name of the game.

- It's very simple, you just have to choose which of the artists you would rather. - She explains, and you blink.

- Rather what?

Ellen lets out a giggle, and you understand, nodding in embarrassment. The audience laughs. The picture changes to two pictures.

- Who would you rather, Scarlett Johansson or Chris Hemsworth?

- Wow, that sounds like a trap. - You comment awkwardly, making the audience laugh. And then you bite your lips. - I think Scarlett.

Ellen gives you a suggestive look, and the audience chuckles, you force yourself to imitate them. The picture changes again.

- Scarlett or Sebastian Stan?

You laugh, smoothing your hair slightly.

- I don't know, I think Seb. - You answer. And then the picture changes again, and you want to run away when the audience gives a chorus of excitement.

- Sebastian Stan or Elizabeth Olsen?

- There it is the trap. - You comment clumsily, causing the audience to bust out laughing. You swallow dryly and look down at your lap before saying. - I'd say Elizabeth Olsen.

You played for a few more minutes, and then the game ended with you choosing Elizabeth at the end, which got the audience cheering and celebrating. When the interview was over, Sara was calling you, and you were massaging your forehead when you answered.

- I thought you said you two weren't dating. - She teased, and you grumbled in irritation.

- I thought you had discussed these matters with the staff. - You retorted, slightly irritated. - She only asked me about Lizzie and dating the entire interview.

- Honey, you're America's sweet couple. - She sneered. - Ellen wants viewers and will ask the questions that the audience wants to know.

- That's ridiculous. - You said and then sighed. - Why did you call me anyway?

- I have your new shooting location, so get your coats and jackets ready.

//-//

Six years ago, Berlin.

You are laughing at Anthony's imitation of Robert. Sitting in the shared dining hall, you were having a good time over lunch with your other colleagues while you were recording Civil War.

And then you were in scene again, many minutes later, and you found it strange that the nervousness was crossing beyond your character during a specific scene in which you were counteracting with Elizabeth.

You saw her laughing at a comment your character made, and you should have this expression of surprise and embarrassment, but you didn't even have to act it out. Your cheeks reddened naturally at the image of Liz laughing. And then the director said cut when you were done and you were rushing out to clean up your makeup.

Later that day, after the shoot was over, the team wanted to visit a local pub, and you accepted the invitation, ignoring the previous event, and smiling when Elizabeth touched your arm to get your attention.

- A toast to the Avengers! - shouted the camera crew chief when you were all gathered at the bar, you thought maybe he had had too much to drink, but you joined in the toast.

You stood next to Lizzie and Chris at a table while sipping a dark drink that might have been craft beer, or something German.

Your cell phone vibrates with a notification and you choke in surprise at the content of the message. Sara had sent you a note from TMZ, stating that your secret romance with Elizabeth Olsen was threatened because you had been seen leaving a coffee shop with Katie McGrath.

Chris and Lizzie look at you curiously, and you just lay your cell phone down on the table for them to see while you turn the entire glass of beer in your mouth.

- Wow, so your type really is super heroines. - Chris commented with a smile, and you laugh, pushing him away slightly.

- I swear, I can't be seen talking to any woman that she is automatically my girlfriend. - You say irritated as you put your beer glass back on the table. Your gaze returns to Lizzie, who has picked up your cell phone from the table and is reading the news. Then she hands the phone back to you, and gets a strange look on her face that you can't read very well, but she forces a smile.

- At least you cheated on me with a pretty girl. - she says and you frown in surprise. Chris laughs at the joke, but before you could have any other reaction, the rest of the team is joining you.

//-//

Five years ago, California.

You gave up fighting the questions about your relationship with Elizabeth. They would happen anyway, whether your agent talked to the teams or not, so you just smiled politely when you told people you were just friends and remained truthful in your statements.

Usually the interviews with Lizzie were easier, because you went into protective mode and your brain was ready to give sharp, snappy answers to keep Elizabeth from being embarrassed.

So here you were on the Night Show, with one of your favorite interviewers, and your best friend by your side. Jimmy was asking good questions, and he was funny. You hoped he wouldn't ask anything too embarrassing.

After many questions about employment, and worldview, which was refreshing, he finally asked you about the rumors of your secret relationship.

- Girls, you know that the public wants to know. - He began with a smile, and you laughed lightly, exchanging a look with Lizzie. - And actually, we have arguments this time.

- Here we go. - You commented with light irony which made the audience laugh.

Your latest posts on instagram were visible on the big screen.

- Last Tuesday, both of you posted these stories on your personal accounts. - Jimmy started with excitement. - And it rocked the internet completely, because the location was visible on your instagram, Elizabeth.

Lizzie let out an embarrassed giggle.

- Well, if the public's doubt is whether we were together there, they can confirm it. - She said, and Jimmy let out an excited exclamation. Lizzie waited for the audience to stop their celebratory chorus before speaking again. - But this was a special celebration, since it was my birthday.

- And I took her on a trip to Mexico. - You completed the story with a slight smile. The audience let out a chorus of happiness and you looked at them in confusion. - Guys, friends do this!

Jimmy and the audience laughed for a moment and then the image came off the screen.

- Come on girls, you're giving us material. - He remarked with a smile. - And you're still going to deny the relationship like you always do, I imagine.

You and Wanda exchange a short chuckle.

- Look, Jimmy, all I have to say is that Lizzie is amazing, she really is. - You saw yourself confessing. - Anyone would be lucky to date this brilliant, spectacular, sweet, fun-loving woman. But that person is not me.

Jimmy lets out an exclamation of sadness along with the audience, but then they applaud your words, and you smile wryly. You risk a glance at Lizzie for a second, and she has slightly flushed cheeks, and looks surprised at your words.

You ignore the nervous feeling at the pit of your stomach, and decide to keep your posture polite as you answer the next questions.

//-//

Four years ago.

You had to kiss Lizzie. And then you shook your head. No, not you. Vision. Your character, Vision, had to kiss Lizzie's character, Wanda Maximoff. And you repeated this like a mantra as you walked from your dressing room to the set.

The day you read this scene, you smiled politely at your agent, and disguised any apparent nervousness. And then you spent the last few weeks pretending that if you didn't think about it, eventually the director would make a change and the scene wouldn't even exist. But here you were, trying to have one last drop of professionalism.

You weren't even recording the scene officially, it was just the rehearsal of lines and marking, and you had sweaty hands.

As you walked through the studio, the staff smiled and greeted you, and then you spotted Lizzie and ignored the uneven beating of your heart.

- Let's get started girls. - announced Russo as soon as he caught sight of you. He signaled for you to follow the team's prearranged schedule. You smiled at Lizzie as you took your place. - We can test the order of the scene directly. I need to know which angle is best to have Vision ask Wanda to stay with her.

And then you started recording. And now you were Vision. There was no time to think about how naturally your hand fit into Lizzie's, or how good it felt to feel her hugging you. And then Russo shouted cut again.

- That's pretty good. - He commented, looking at the monitor. - Let's shoot the stone scene okay, then the action scene.

The scene started, and you said your lines the way you were supposed to. And then you were looking at Lizzie, and she kissed you as the script said. You held the sigh in your throat, and pulled away. Vision doesn't sigh, so you shouldn't either. And then you are smiling as written, and the director closes the scene again.

You were getting pretty good at hiding how affected you are by Lizzie the more you kiss her onstage. And then you wrap up the day's shooting, and you are mentally exhausted. You want to sleep in your dressing room, but you decide to go home.

And as you are walking back to your car, Lizzie calls out to you.

- Hey, partner. - She greets me by walking beside you. - Don't you want to go for a drink tonight?

You let out a sigh, ignoring the urge to shout that you would go anywhere with her, and thinking about how tired your body is.

- I'm exhausted, Lizzie. - You tell her, and she looks upset, but you add with a smile. - But I'll take it if it's something at your place.

Lizzie's face lights up quickly, and she nods, and then says she'll leave something in her car. She returns when you are already in yours.

- All set? - You ask to confirm, and she smiles and nods. And then you start the car and drive out of the studio.

Lizzie turns on the car stereo a moment later, and you begin humming the song.

- You've been distant lately. - She comments distractedly as you drive away. - You know you can talk to me, right?

You smile, ignoring the feeling in your stomach.

- Yes, Lizzie. - You say without taking your eyes off the road. - I'm just busy, that's all. It's nothing.

Lizzie makes a noise of agreement and looks away. You think maybe she believes you're not telling her the truth, and you feel guilty. So you decide to change the subject.

- How are things at home, Liz? Are Mary-Kate and Ashley well? - you ask, and she looks at you quickly.

- Everything's fine. - she says, and then she bites her lip. - Did I do something?

You frown, glancing quickly at her before looking down the street again. The light was red. And when you turn your head toward her, she lets out a sigh.

- You don't talk to me anymore. - She says seriously, looking at you. - Since Berlin, you're just distant. Always busy, and with ready-made answers. And now you try small talk, even though you hate it. I wish you would tell me what I did wrong.

Your heart is racing at the accusations, because she is absolutely right. And then you swallow dry, and prepare to speak, but then Liz is pointing ahead, the headlight has opened. And you have to drive, and she crosses her arms and looks away to the window.

You drive the rest of the way to her house in silence, and when you park the car in the driveway, she mumbles a goodnight before getting out.

Squeezing the steering wheel in your fingers, you take a deep breath. And then you get out of the car, and the noise of the door opening surprises her because she turns to look. But you are walking toward her, and raising your hand to the back of her neck, bringing your mouths together. Lizzie chokes in surprise, but in the next second she melts against you as she kisses you back.

You part breathlessly, holding your foreheads together.

- I am in love with you. - You confess. - I'm sorry I was a complete idiot, but I was terrified.

Lizzie giggles, kissing you again quickly before hugging you. And then she is breaking the embrace to look at you, a shy smile on her lips.

- I'm in love with you too. - she says. - I'm glad that's the problem and not something else.

You laugh, and kiss her one last time before entwining your hands and walking toward her house.

You decide to take things slow, so naturally, two weeks later, you ask her to be your girlfriend over dinner. Lizzie smiles all night, but you know that if this is a secret, she can't wear the ring.

Public relationships mean contracts, and agents, and unwanted questions, and lots of opinions about your lives. And you two wanted to keep that to yourselves for the time being.

So when directors comment that your onstage chemistry is amazing, you two just nod and thank them. When the interviewers ask if you are together, you deny it as before.

The first time you sleep with Lizzie, you almost break the bed. And it's all right, because you two are laughing with happiness and pleasure, and she pulls you in for another kiss. And you entwine your hands, the commitment rings on your fingers.

A year and a half later, you are getting very busy with your participation in a youth series, and there are many rumors that you are dating your co-star, so Lizzie is jealous and you can't blame her.

You decide that the secret cannot go on any longer, at least not to your friends and employers. So you talk to Lizzie, and you both call your agents. Sara laughs for ten minutes when you tell her, but she is happy to talk to Lizzie's agent. You are not public yet, but it is important that all parties are in agreement. You hate bureaucracy, but you don't mind as long as Lizzie's hand is in yours. Your friends are very happy, and the other cast members tease you constantly about it.

When you shoot the last movie, you think you are going to be fired because your character has died. But then you and Lizzie get a series together.

You try not to overthink how you will deny the rumors on television, but Lizzie kisses you on the cheek and tells you that you will face it together.

It takes three more months for you to propose. You think your chest will explode with happiness when she accepts.

And then you are calling your agents again, and Sara almost faints when you tell her that you got married in secret at some registry office in the Caribbean and she needs to get the paperwork sorted out. When you get back to California, there is a small ceremony with your family members.

//-//

Present

You and Lizzie are sitting side by side in the interview. The questions about WandaVision are over, and now you know from Jimmy's expression what he is going to say.

- The last time you were here, I had only an instagram post as an argument for your secret relationship. - He says, making you, Lizzie and the audience laugh lightly. - But now I have talked to the production and they prepare a presentation.

- My goodness. - You remark, making him laugh. And then he waves to the big screen, and you try to disguise your nervousness.

A presentation of images began to play to the audience to the sound of "honeybee" by the band "The Head and The Heart". There are several studio shots, from photo rehearsals to behind-the-scene moments. There is a picture from the day you met, from the first cast test, from the Avengers taping, paparazzi shots of you laughing in the parking lot, or in the open areas. There are pictures of you walking around Los Angeles together, pictures of your rides, or your travels. There are clippings from instagram stories where you spend time together, laughing and hugging. The presentation ends with the BTS photo of WandaVision from the first day of recording where you have your arm around Lizzie, and the two of you are laughing.

You clear your throat away the emotion, but Lizzie wipes her eyes lightly.

- That was very beautiful. - She comments as Jimmy hands her a piece of tissue paper. The audience bursts into tears of excitement.

- I guess we can get to the part where you deny everything now can't we? - Jimmy jokes and you smile and straighten your posture.

- Actually, Jimmy, we have something to announce.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxyou #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wandamaximoffxyou

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Note

hi val can you maybe write something about the reader being dared to kiss peter/tom/arvin (you choose) since her friends knew that she has a big crush on him, but once she did he seems disinterested after which makes her sad, but what she doesn't know was after she kissed him, he practically runs to his friends freaking out that the girl he's had his eyes on this whole time just kissed him??

kiss and tell

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: like one swear and awkwardness

a/n: yeeee i went with peter! this is adorable :,)

“i can’t!” you scold betty and her annoying smirk. you’re bored at lunch, so liz suggested the three of you play truth or dare. you’d made the mistake of choosing dare. in your defense, betty is the nosiest person in all of midtown, so you thought you were dodging the bullet and guarding your deep dark secrets. how could you have known she’d make you do... this?

“that’s so, like, forward. he’s gonna freak out.” you glance over at peter’s table to see what he’s up to before you possibly scar him. he’s laughing along at a heated conversation ned and mj are having. the way his face lights up, and his eyes crinkle as a smile crosses his features, it gives you butterflies throughout your whole body.

“in a good way,” liz grins her most charming grin at you. it’s not working this time. you roll your eyes up to the ceiling. “i thought you liked him,” betty huffs, gesturing over to peter and keeping her eyes on you. “all you do is talk about how he’s so cute and smart, and his lips look so soft-“ “i never said that!” you look at her with wild eyes. liz bites her lip to hold in a laugh. “the last part, i mean,” you clarify in a murmur.

liz puts a hand on you and pats your shoulder knowingly. “you’ve probably thought it, though. i’ve seen you checking them out.” there have been quite a few times your gaze has landed on peter’s lips, watching them curve while he talks to you about some new science theory he’s excited to share. you end up zoning out and pretending you retained any of what he said. betty puckers her own lips at you.

“you wanna kiss him,” she insists in a sing song voice, resting her chin on your other shoulder. “i’m doing you a favor.” “you’re really not gonna change the dare?” you sigh, your friends leaning on you in support. liz taps your cheek. “so, you don’t wanna kiss him?” “there’s no way,” betty comments from your side. “no, i...” you start, focusing in on peter again.

he meets your eyes across the cafeteria. his smile fades slightly, then a shy one is replacing it, ned dragging him into his and mj’s debate. you turn back to liz and betty.

“i do, but do you think he wants me to?” you ask them both, and they share a you have to be kidding look. “only one way to find out.” liz gives your shoulder a nudge. betty beams at you. “i triple dog dare you now, so you have to.” considering your options, you bounce your leg up and down. you’ll either get the nicest rejection ever from peter or a kiss back. you can handle this.

“ok, i’ll do it,” you decide, betty clapping her hands and squealing. liz throws an arm around your neck. “yay! i love love.” “let’s calm down,” you giggle so she doesn’t get too carried away. you and peter haven’t even established that you like each other. “i’m calm, i’m calm. do you need to borrow chapstick?” she offers, betty simultaneously pulling a tube out of her purse. “or lip gloss?”

you’re appreciating their over involvement now.

“both,” you breathe out, letting them get you ready for your big kiss.

liz and betty send you good luck wishes in a hushed tone while you make your way to peter’s table. mj went to get a snapple, and ned went with her so they could continue whatever argument they’re in. that left peter by himself. it’s almost like this is meant to happen.

“hi,” you greet peter, making him look up at you with raised eyebrows. he notices right away that your lips are shiny, more so than usual. a color that you always seem to bring to his face takes over his cheeks. “hey. you wanna sit?” he gives you a small smile. you return it. “yeah, sure. thanks.” instead of taking the bench across from him like he assumed you would, you find your place next to him.

he doesn’t mind.

“how’s your day been?” you wonder, body turned towards him while he answers. peter scrunches his nose. “kinda busy. i got so much homework in spanish tonight, and i’ve been putting off this essay about...” you do the thing you do every time he goes off on a sort of tangent, watch his lips. lucky for you, that’s the whole point today. “i don’t know. all i have so far is the intro-“

you cut peter off with a kiss. liz and betty cheer to each other the second it happens. peter doesn’t move, only freezes up as you press your glossy lips to his and grab his shoulders. it takes a few seconds for you to realize he’s not kissing back. his arms are stiff at his sides, eyes wide in shock. absolutely humiliated, you pull back, moving as far away as you can.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked you first,” you apologize, voice shaking. you’re already getting to your feet. peter blinks a few times, grounding himself back in the moment. “no, no. it’s okay. i-“ “that was weird, i know. you don’t have to lie or make me feel better.” he furrows his eyebrows, in a way that seems regretful even though you’re the one who messed up. “i’m trying to tell you, y/n. it’s fine. we-“

ned’s voice fills the room, making you snap your head in his direction. him and mj are coming back. you need to get out of here before you embarrass yourself even more.

“i’m gonna go. i’m sorry,” you mumble out, running back to your table, where liz and betty are instantly asking what’s wrong and if you’re alright. peter licks his lips that are now coated in your gloss and clenches his jaw. he’s pissed. not at you, at himself. it’s clear because mj brings attention to it when she sits down.

“what’s up with your face?” she narrows her eyes at him, popping the cap on her snapple. ned elbows peter in his spot next to him. you were just there less than a minute ago. “you okay, dude?” he checks. “no.” peter closes his eyes in frustration. “what’s wrong?” ned kicks mj’s foot under the table so she’ll stop making out with her drink and help him.

“i... y/n kissed me,” peter admits, sounding oddly upset about something everyone knows he’s been hoping would happen. “she what?” ned gawks. “isn’t that a good thing?” mj points out. “you love her.” “like her,” peter corrects and chews the inside of his cheek. “whatever. shouldn’t you want her to kiss you?” she takes another sip of snapple, passing this off to ned.

“yeah...” is all ned says. he awkwardly rubs peter’s back while mj tries not to snort. “that’s not the problem. i didn’t kiss her back, and she took it as me not being into it,” peter shakes his head as he recounts your weird moment. “which i was,” he tells them for the record. ned makes a funny face at him. “so why didn’t you kiss back?” “no shit she ran away,” mj mutters to him. she saw that part.

“because i wasn’t expecting it!” peter frowns at his friends’ reactions and at what he did. “you guys know how much i like y/n. i can’t believe i screwed this up so bad.” mj squints in mock confusion. “i can.” she quickly drops her sarcasm for encouragement after that. “ok, seriously. just go find her and apologize.” “maybe kiss her this time,” ned chimes in.

“if she really likes you, she’ll get it.” mj smiles genuinely, nodding back at your table. ned gives him a push forward. “you got this, dude. come tell us all about it after.” a rush of confidence enters peter from their advice. he’ll fix this. “thanks, guys. here i go.” he shoots up from the table, ned and mj getting back into their debate once he’s out of sight.

betty is hugging you way too tightly when peter gets over there. she goes on about how much peter sucks, overcompensating because she’s the reason you kissed him. you only hum in response. you don’t have the heart to tell her you blame yourself. only liz notices peter come over, so she talks on your behalf. “oh, hey,” she says drily. “hey. can i talk to y/n?” peter gets out, twiddling with his thumbs nervously.

she has to decide if she’d rather go into protective friend mode or let him. from your unenthusiastic responses to betty’s hate rant, she figures you’d like to hear him out.

“come on, betty,” liz takes her arm suddenly, betty trying to pull it back. “what? why?” “i’m gonna buy you ice cream. let’s go.” that’s her cover. peter shoots her a look that says thank you, liz pressing her lips into a line and dragging betty along. betty sees peter standing in front of your table and glares at him, liz walking faster. you don’t get the chance to ask them where they’re going because they leave so fast.

the bench dips down on one side of you, making someone’s prescense known. you’re surprised to find it’s peter. you talk first.

“if you’re gonna apologize, don’t. it was my fault-“ “you never let me finish earlier,” peter interrupts, the hint of a smile on his face. his clammy hand links with one of yours. “what were you gonna say?” you ask quietly, peter threading your fingers together. your heart is racing at the simple touch. “that i like you,” he replies at the same low volume. “and, that i wanted to try again.”

he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you realized. you welcome it, your hands in between you two on the bench. “i like you too... try what again?” you question, although you hope and pray it’s what you think. “kissing,” peter says what you were hoping and praying for. “wasn’t ready the first time.” you’re about to go into cardiac arrest as he rests his forehead on yours, curls brushing your face. a few broken up breaths escape him.

“can i?” he nearly whispers, warm hand still gripping at yours. “yeah,” you agree before your eyes flutter shut. he wastes no time, parting his lips and brushing them against yours gently, you reciprocating. he kisses as sweetly as he is, his free hand on your cheek and fingers careessing your skin. your other hand ends up on the back of his neck. you grin against him, lips detaching momentarily so you can engage him in another kiss.

peter doesn’t hesitate to kiss back this time, nose nudging yours as he moves in more. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck and laugh into the kiss, reminding him you’re in school. he pulls back with a chuckle, but keeps his forehead on yours and your hands in each other.

“sorry. got too excited,” he laughs out, you leaning into his open palm. “i told you don’t apologize.”

liz and betty joined ned and mj at some point. the four of them are whistling at you and yelling out suggestive jokes. they’re too much. but, to be fair, you owe this all to them.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Note

what about doing a steve x reader? maybe where the reader gets hurt during a mission by hydra?? just an idea!! xx

He’s Like a Brother to Me

Summary: Pretending to be a couple for a mission is normal, so why is your Captain so upset?

Warnings: being injured on a mission, kissing, a swear word or two

Word Count: 2202

a/n: My first request!! To the anon that requested this, thank you! I hope you like it :) Sorry if it's not angsty enough! I really tried, but once I got this idea in my head I ran with it.

Also! I didn't do my normal tag list since y'all requested to be tagged when I was only writing Criminal Minds fics. Just lmk if you want to be tagged in marvel or CM or both!

"The mission is simple. You two will go to the gala as newly weds, pretend to be interested in more than the charitable events of the evening, figure out the chain of command for the weapons dealing, and put a stop to the weapons dealing assholes." Tony laid out the plan as if nothing could go wrong.

You turned to the super soldier on your left, relieved to find a matching grimace on his face.

"We have to pretend to be a couple?" You asked, turning back to Tony.

"Yes. The invites we secured are for Mr. and Mrs. Farley, so you two will be Mr. and Mrs. Farley for the evening. Any other questions?" Before you could chime in with the 17 questions in your head, Tony kept talking. "I didn't think so. Your clothes have already been dropped off to your rooms, so get ready. You'll have Rogers and Wilson doing surveillance in case anything goes wrong." Without another word, Tony forced you and Bucky out of the room.

"I guess I'll see in an hour, husband." You tried to joke, but your smile didn't meet your eyes.

"Same to you, wife." Bucky's face held a similar expression as you both turned your separate ways to get ready for the gala, trying to put the awkwardness behind you.

You and Bucky have been incredibly close ever since he first came back from Wakanda. You became fast friends since you are both so close with Steve.

It was easier for Bucky to open up to you than he anticipated, and in part it's because you remind him of his sister. Similarly, Bucky is like the older brother you never had. The two of you mesh, in the most platonic of ways.

He is there to tease you about your not-so-secret crush on Steve, and your there to help Sam come up with more annoying nicknames (starBucks being one of your favorite to date).

When it comes down to it though, you look out for each other. Of course, that won't make pretending to be a couple any less awkward.

You and Bucky enter the gala just after 8:00 pm. The large hotel ballroom is lit up by three enormous chandeliers, spaced throughout the room, with small sconces lining the outside walls. There are round tables around the outside of the room, framing a large open space for dancing.

People are mingling in small groups scattered throughout the room, waitstaff wondering around the room in precise lines to ensure anyone who wants a drink has access to one.

With a deep breath, you link your arm with Bucky's, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"We have to at least try to sell it." You whispered in his ear, trying to play it off as a cute couple-y thing. "Even if we'd both rather be anywhere else." That comment earned a laugh, easing the tension from his shoulders.

Steve's voice in your ears refocuses you on the mission. "We just got video feed from the security cameras, so we have eyes on you now." You would have sworn you could hear an unfamiliar strain in Steve's voice as he spoke, but you chalked it up to just being nervous for the mission. "Try to mingle, figure out who's in charge."

Mingling was easier said than done. Every time the two of you tried to talk to anyone, the conversation was awkward and tense. You just didn't know how to answer questions about falling in love with each other. Ultimately, you decided eavesdropping was your best bet. Bucky pulled you to the dance floor, whispering in your ear as he held you, "dancing is the perfect cover for moving around the room."

You nodded your head in response, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing? I said to mingle, not dance." Steve's voice in your ears surprised you. Normally, he'd stay quiet unless he received intel that could help with the mission or noticed something for you to look into.

"We're listening to other conversations, relax punk." Bucky's voice was light as he spun you around, closer to the most suspicious people you've found thus far.

"What time is it happening?" The woman seemed nervous as she checked her watch.

"A few minutes. Relax, we'll meet them down the hall at 8:45." The man was calm and collected as he took her hand, leading her across the dance floor and out of the room.

"Guess that's our cue." You stated the obvious as you and Bucky went to follow them out of the ballroom. The couple turned down a side hallway, pulled out a key card, and entered a room, about halfway down.

You and Bucky made quick work to reach the room, pausing outside to listen in. You heard the couple, along with an unfamiliar voice.

"Do you have them?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

"We do. They're hidden in another room down the hall." the woman again sounded nervous.

"You" the unfamiliar voice must have pointed at someone, "go get them. Your wife will stay here to keep me company. Make it quick, Hydra has more important things to do."

Yours and Bucky's eyes went wide at the mention of Hydra. This mission wasn't supposed to have anything to do with them. Before you could react, footsteps could be heard coming toward the door. You had a few seconds max to figure out a way to hide.

With no other options in sight, you pulled Bucky across the hallway into the world's most awkward kiss. When the door swung open, you pretended not to notice, too lost in your "relationship" to care.

The man you saw earlier walked a few doors down before entering another room. You pulled back from Bucky, wincing slightly at the expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to do to make it look like we weren't listening..." You trailed off.

"No, no it's fine. It was the only option." Bucky cleared his throat, still slightly dazed and very thrown off.

"Could the two of you stop staring at each other and get back to work?' Steve's voice was again present in your ears, and this time he was definitely angry.

"Right! Right, of course. Let's go." You awkwardly pushed off the wall, moving down the hallway to the room you saw the man enter. On the count of three, you burst into the room together. It was easy enough to over power the lone man in the room, but you and Bucky were still a little shaken up after the kiss. You handcuffed him to the bedpost, taking the key card he used earlier and moving back down the hallway.

After a brief, awkward eye contact, Bucky opened the door with you rushing in behind him. The only two people in the room were the two you heard earlier, making for a fairly easy take down.

"Cap, we got 'em. Two in room 217 and one in room 223." You started to fill him and Sam in, unsure if they still had eyes on you. At that exact moment, three more Hydra agents ran in from an adjoining room, catching you off guard.

You yelped when the gun went off, surprised at the sudden noise after thinking the mission was over. You and Bucky managed to take down the three agents without much more difficulty.

"Scratch that Cap, five in room 217." You again began filling him in, but the room started spinning. Your voice was wavering when you collapsed, the last thing you heard a mixture of Steve's voice in your ear and Bucky's in person calling your name.

"Y/N!" Then everything faded to black.

"What the hell happened in there?" Steve and Bucky were standing just outside of the med bay. After you collapsed, Bucky realized you had been shot in the stomach. While other Shield agents came to collect the men you had stopped, Bucky carried you to the quinjet, meeting a pissed looking Steve at the door.

The two didn't talk at all during the short flight back to the compound. It wasn't until you were in the med bay receiving medical attention that Steve rounded on Bucky.

"There was never any indication that more agents were there. They caught us off guard! I didn't even realize she had been shot until after we had them contained." Bucky was beating himself up. He let his guard down, still trying to get over the lingering weirdness of you kissing him.

"Caught you off guard? Buck-" Before Steve could yell anymore, Dr. Cho came out to talk to them.

"Y/N will be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but she should recover relatively quickly. She'll likely wake up in the next half hour." Dr. Cho got straight to the point, trying to ease the nerves of the two super soldiers.

"Thank you so much. Thank you!" Bucky called over his shoulder as he ran into the room, planting himself by your side. He may be weirded out by the kiss, but he knows you were too. You're still like a little sister to him, nothing could stop him from being there for you when you wake up.

Steve followed Bucky into the room after thanking Dr. Cho and briefly discussing the timeline for your recovery.

"As I was saying. Caught you off guard? I've never seen you caught off guard before." Although he was whispering so as not to disturb you, his words were nearly venomous. "The two of you let your feelings get in the way of this mission."

The look of guilt already present on Bucky's face multiplied tenfold. "You think I don't know that? I should've seen it coming. If I wasn't distracted I could've stopped them before Y/N got hurt."

You woke up at some point, hearing Bucky blame himself. Instantly, you wanted to ease his worries. "Hey," the two men turned to you, concern clear on their faces. "It wasn't your fault, Buck. I was just as distracted. Neither of us saw it coming, even though both of us should have. It doesn't matter though, because we got them, and I'll be fine." You sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in your abdomen.

"How can you say that? Of course it matters! You could have died, all because Bucky was too busy making heart eyes at you to-" Steve's words were cut off by identical sounds of laughter from you and Bucky.

"Heart eyes?! Oh my god, that's hilarious." You stuttered out the words between laughs. Steve look so confused, you couldn't help but laugh at his cute expression.

Every time you thought you were done, one look at either Bucky or Steve had you laughing again. "Oh god, make it stop! It hurts to laugh!" You pouted slightly, begging Bucky to stop laughing and Steve to change his expression.

Finally, Bucky reined it in enough to speak. "I was distracted because Y/N like a little sister. It's definitely a bit distracting to feel like you just kissed your sister" You and Bucky each made a face of disgust as you looked at each other.

Meanwhile, Steve had a look of complete shock on his face. "Wh-what? You two aren't ... ya know?”

Again, you and Bucky share looks of disgust. "God, no. He's like a brother to me."

"Yeah, I love Y/N like a sister. I'm definitely not in love with her." Bucky agrees.

Steve's expression is sheepish as he tries to explain himself, "but, but after the kiss you were staring into his eyes like you were in love!"

"We most definitely were not." Mumbling under your breath, you kept talking "his aren't the blue eyes I'd like to lovingly stare into."

Steve was shocked into silence by your statement.

"I think that's my cue to leave." Bucky wore a smug grin as he slapped Steve on the back, uttering a quick "good luck, punk" before leaving.

It was quiet for a minute, neither of you quite sure what to say.

"Who's blue eyes do you want to stare into?" Steve broke the silence, shuffling closer to sit on the side of your bed.

"What?" It took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you said that sentence out loud. "I said that out loud?" You threw your hands up to cover your face, mumbling about being an idiot to delay having to answer.

"You did. So... who's blue eyes?" Steve's demeanor quickly shifted from shy to confident. He slowly moved your hands off your face, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. One look had you confessing all your secrets.

"Yours. It always been yours." He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, leaning in closer to you until your foreheads were touching.

"Let me take you on a date." His words were barely a whisper, the warm air from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

He leaned in closer, barely brushing his lips over yours. "I need words, sweetheart."

You pushed forward, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.

"Yes."

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #requests #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #captain america x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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songbirdstyles · 5 years ago

Text

when i kissed the teacher.

summary: the one man you want more than anything is the one man you can’t have - your english professor.

warnings: teacher/student relationship, age gap (implied), f receiving oral, whole lotta smut, whole lotta feelings, whole lotta angst

word count: 14.7k (strap in)

song inspo.: when i kissed the teacher - abba

There was something special about Professor Styles.

You knew it, and so did every other girl who took his class. Your less-than-appropriate feelings about him were shared and that should’ve made you feel better about having them - at least you weren’t as obvious as some of the other girls who obviously took a fancy to your English professor. You applauded their efforts, showing up to classes in short skirts and low cut tops in the hopes that they’d catch his eyes drifting down to their chests while he passed out your essays -

But they hadn’t had any luck yet. He was a very respectable man, and more than his looks, that was what you appreciated about him. He was passionate about English, with a curriculum that appealed to you from the very first day and essay topics that forced you to look deeper into every book that the class read. He was one of the youngest professors on campus and you could tell something about that seemed to motivate him - to not be seen as a joke by the older professors, to be taken seriously by the students, some of which weren't much younger than him.

You decided, after your very first class with him, that, in any other universe, you’d have fallen in love with him. Or perhaps tried to jump his bones immediately.

Something of that sort.

As classes progressed you found yourself only liking him more. His classes were as difficult as you’d anticipated and you should have hated it, hated how much work and effort you had to put into every assignment but you absolutely adored it. You loved doing his essays, loved the novels he picked, loved the look on his face when he handed back your assignments with a 100% scribbled on top.

Most of your assignments, at least.

It didn’t really make sense to you, why your 1984 analysis should have gotten a 71%. Truthfully, you’d felt confident while writing it - it was such an easy analysis that you’d decided to go a little deeper, spending more time on it than was necessary, because you were sure he’d be tired of reading the same essay from everybody over and over again. So you gave him something different and maybe you should have stuck to analyzing the same themes that everyone else did.

“If any of you are confused about your grade,” Professor Styles announces to the class when everyone has gotten their essays back, time left in class slowly ticking down, “please feel free to see me after class. M’happy to discuss any concerns with you.”

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, but you could’ve sworn you felt his eyes land on you.

Class ends within a few minutes and you take your time packing your things back into your bag, waiting until the last kid has trickled from the lecture hall before swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way down to his office. The door is cracked open and he’s barely sat down at his desk when you knock, flashing him a smile before pushing the door open a bit more.

You clear your throat before saying, “Hey, um, sorry to bother you - ” he interrupts you, telling you that it’s no bother at all “ - I’m just kind of confused on why I did badly on this essay.”

He nods, motioning for you to come in, and you step inside before shutting the door behind you. His office is small and cramped, with bookshelves lining the walls and a couch pressed into the corner. It’s a good vibe, you have to admit, although slightly messy. Perhaps you’d describe it as cozy, and it seems to fit him well.

There’s an empty seat in front of his desk and you sit down in it awkwardly, placing your essay in front of him. His eyes skim the first page before he tells you, “You usually do really well on essays, and this was … a really easy one.”

“I know,” you tell him, leaning forward to try and read what he’s reading. “I just thought you might be looking for something more complex. It seemed too simple.” When you look up, he’s staring at you, and you feel heat flood to your cheeks. “I don’t - I don’t know.”

“It really is that simple, I promise,” Professor Styles informs you, and he pushes your essay back to you. “But you’re one of my best students, and I don’t want to let this bring down your grade. So, I have an idea for how you can make it up.”

Your mind runs through all the ways you’d want to make it up to him - most of them involve you being on your knees, and you cough into your elbow. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed about it. Fantasizing about your professor from across the lecture hall is one thing, but you’re barely a foot apart from him now and you’re almost nervous he can hear your thoughts.

“I’ll do anything.” And you don’t care about the ways he could interpret it. He drums his fingers on his desk, and when you look down at his hand, you notice with a start that his nails are painted - you’d never seen that before, but you’d also never been this close to him, you suppose. You wonder if he gets them done or if he does them himself - you can’t picture him going to a salon, and the thought of him painting his own nails could make you cum on its own.

You don’t realize he’s been speaking until you zone back in, and when you look back up at him, he furrows his brows at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You shake your head. “Just - um - could you repeat that?” His eyes linger on you for just a beat too long, and your face flushes again. “So distracted,” he murmurs in a faux chastising tone, and your stomach flips. “What I said was that I’m willing to put this essay in as a 97 - your average for the class - if you would help me with grading some things. Not too heavy, maybe an hour or two after class. I’ve been falling behind with a lot of my classes and I’ve been looking for help, anyway, so it works out for both of us.”

Jesus Christ. Spending an extra hour every day with Professor Styles sounds like a recipe for disaster, and yet it also sounds completely perfect at the same time, and you’re nodding before you can fully process the pros and cons of the situation. “That sounds great. I mean, really - thank you so much.”

“S’my pleasure,” he informs you, giving you a large, dimpled smile. “So, after class, tomorrow - when I’m caught up and don’t need your help anymore, you’re off the hook.”

“Got it.” you stand, grabbing your essay and your bag and making your way towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he echoes, and the last thing you see before you shut the door is him, bringing his hand up to wave you off.

---

When class concludes the next day you maintain the same habit as you did the day prior - watching every student trickle out the door before swinging your bag over your shoulders, grabbing the two cups of tea that you’d made before class and making your way down to the front of the lecture hall.

Professor Styles stands in the doorway of his office, holding the door open for you - you make your way inside with a tight, only slightly awkward smile. His eyes roll over the two cups that you’re holding and he asks, with a mildly amused inflection in his voice, “I guess you like tea quite a bit, then?”

You smile, looking down at your cups, and when he shuts the door you hold one out to him. “I do like it a lot, but this one’s for you. You know, to say thank you for giving me a freebie, and also because you look like the kind of guy who loves tea.”

He laughs and your grin widens at the noise - god, it’s like music to your ears, and you would do anything to keep hearing it from him. He reaches out to take the cup from you and brings it up to his mouth, taking a small sip - when he’s done his tongue pokes out to lap up a bit of tea from his lip, and you try to ignore how much the minuscule motion affects you. “This is perfect, Y/N. Just the way I like it. You’re an angel.” Your cheeks heat up, and then he says, “But you don’t need to thank me. I’m probably gaining more from this arrangement than you are, truthfully. People are starting to get annoyed with how I’ve been falling behind grading, which is where you come in.”

Yes, you’d heard the girls next to you whispering about how bothersome it was that they’d submitted three essays in the past month and had only gotten one back. Why does he give out so much work if he’s never gonna hand it back?

It didn’t bother you too much.

“Well - alright, then. You’re welcome for helping you grade,” you tell him, pulling out the chair in front of his desk and settling in, dropping your bag beside you. You take another brief moment to glance around his office, as though expecting something to change, but it’s the same distinctly messy, cramped office that it had been yesterday. At some point, you should tell him that he ought to clean out his space, but that’s not what you’re here for - yet.

Professor Styles nods, making his way to the other side of his desk and plopping down in his spinning chair - it was quite nice, and made you wonder why the one you sat in seemed to be falling apart at the seams. But, then, you supposed teacher salary didn’t leave room for spectacular seating. “See, that’s the spirit.” All at once, the casual discussion between the pair of you died as he dug in the drawers of his desk for something - and then he plopped a large stack of papers on the table between you both. “This isn’t all of them - not even close. You’re very smart, so this should be pretty easy for you. Just read through them, add any notes, things they need to work on, and look at the rubric for a final grade.”

You nod, picking the first essay off the top of the pile and reaching for a pen from the cup on his desk - it’s a coffee mug with the Rumours by Fleetwood Mac album cover on it, and you take a moment to marvel at it briefly. “You like Fleetwood?” you question, voice seeming unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet of his office. “Didn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

He looks up, then, from where he’d already begun scribbling bright red notes into the margin of someone’s essay. His eyes trail down to the mug full of pens, and then back up to meet yours. “You seem to make a lot of assumptions about the kind of guy I am. What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” you assure him, your voice faux sweet and innocent, and he smiles slightly. “But I’m glad you have an appreciation for really good music. I was worried your music taste would be terrible, and then I’d have to live with the knowledge that Professor Styles exclusively listens to Justin Bieber.”

Your professor rolls his eyes, smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he begins, “you don’t have to call me Professor Styles. Not outside of class, at least. It sounds weird when it’s just the pair of us here.”

“Oh.” You pause. “What should I call you, then?”

“Harry’s fine.”

Harry Styles. The name flows easily off the tongue as you test it out in a teasing tone, your eyes meeting his as you do, and your cheeks flush. You don’t know if it's commonplace for professors to allow random students to drop formalities and call them by their first names but you’ll accept it anyway - all you know is that, when you go home tonight, the thought of calling him Harry will fill your mind until you can’t stand it anymore.

Harry as he buries his face between your thighs.

Harry as he pounds you into the mattress.

Harry as he bends you over his desk - this desk - the one you’re sitting at right now.

You cough into your arm and pick up your pen, pressing your thighs together to try and alleviate the throbbing that’s now affecting your body. You should’ve known not to let your mind wander because you’ve barely been here for 15 minutes and you already feel like you need to go rub one out in the bathroom. But you pause - take a sip of your tea, though it’s nearly gone from drinking it so much in class - and get to work grading Brianna Valeria’s essay on Death Comes to the Archbishop. The rubric sits on the desk next to you and you bury yourself in your work - if Harry notices the sudden silence that’s overtaken you, he doesn’t mention it.

For the rest of the hour, the pair of you work in silence. It’s comforting and surprisingly not awkward, and occasionally you ask his opinion on something one of his students wrote in their essays, but the playful banter you’d had before has dissipated. You’ve finished your tea and you suspect he has, as well, with the way he’s been feverishly drinking it.

“Oh,” he says, suddenly, and you glance up from where you’re in the middle of scribbling red notes into the margins of Alexander Simmons’ essay. “You should probably get going.”

One quick glance down at your phone proves that he’s right, and you rise from the extremely uncomfortable seat you’ve been perched in for the hour - you can practically hear your butt crying in relief. “Thank you so much for the tea,” Harry tells you, handing back his cup, and it’s empty, like you expected. “And - um. You don’t have to call me Harry if it makes you uncomfortable. Just thought it would be less formal, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

Ah. He took your silence as you being uncomfortable calling him Harry. Well, it’s better than him knowing just how wet the sentiment made you, but you shake your head immediately. “No. No, I prefer calling you Harry. You’re right - it’s weird when it’s just us.”

He grins at you, then, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“You know, if I’m calling you Harry now, I think you should drop formalities too. Make it equal.”

“Okay … Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Harry,” you tell him, turning and walking out of his office with your phone in your pocket and two cups in your hands, blissfully unaware of your abandoned bag still sitting next to the terribly uncomfortable chair you’d been all too quick to leave.

It’s only when you’ve finished the trek back to your dorm, the sun beginning to lower down into the horizon, that the absence of your bag on your shoulder becomes prominent.

You can’t get into your building without your key and your key is in your bag and your bag is … back in Harry’s office, where you nearly made yourself cum just thinking about him. And the thought of having to go back across campus, back to his office, when he might not even be there, is not favorable, but you need your key and you need to bang out homework tonight, so with a soft groan you spin on your heel, walking away from the warm comfort of your building and making your way back to his.

As summer bled into fall and fall begins to bleed into winter, the weather has changed so drastically in just the past week or so that you tug your cardigan closer to your body, but the air that seeps through the holes in the crocheted sweater send goosebumps trailing up and down your body. The wind whips your face and brings tears to your eyes that run down your cheeks, and when you’re finally at the door of Harry’s building it’s a welcome surprise to walk inside, allowing the warmth to embrace you - even if the shock of the changing temperatures causes your eyes to water again.

His office is on the 2nd floor, so you pull open the door to the staircase and make your way up the two flights. Most professors have gone home for the day, classrooms dark as you speed past them to where you know his office is.

His office is dark and your heart sinks at the sight - there are a few posters pinned to the small window, but you can see the lack of light clear as day. Your hand grasps the doorknob anyway, turning it without any hope that it would open - but then it was, giving you access to his dark office, and by the seat you’d occupied later you can make out your bag.

A breath of relief escapes your throat as you take a step inside, reaching down to swing it over your shoulder before turning to leave. And then you hear it - a small breath, an indicator of someone else in the room, and you whip around to look back around at the office.

Oh.

Harry sits in his chair, face buried in his arms, fast asleep. His hair is messy and in front of him sits the stack of essays you’d been working at early, hardly any smaller than when you’d left. It would nearly be an adorable sight - your professor, passed out at his desk - but it just seems concerning, and without thinking you’ve leaned over the desk, placing your hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

“Professor?” your voice is soft, barely audible, and you speak louder when you say, “Harry?”

He doesn’t respond, so you say, louder still, “Harry?”

Then he stirs slightly under your touch, and you drop your hand from his shoulder as he lifts his head from where it had been resting on his arms, looking up at you with messy eyebrows and a thoroughly confused expression on his face. “What - what are you doing here?” Jesus. His voice is deep and raspy, sounding as though he’d been sleeping for ages instead of merely less than an hour, and if his present state wasn’t slightly concerning to you, you know that you’d feel the effects of his words between your thighs. But you pause, staring down at him, before asking, “What are you still doing here?”

“Just working on some grading.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking around the darkened office with an air of distinct confusion.

“With all due respect, Harry,” you tell him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I think you’re burning yourself out. You should go home.”

He hesitates, and then questions, “Why are you here? I thought you left -”

“I forgot my bag,” and you hold it up to demonstrate it to him. “Are you going to go home? I’m serious - you need a break. And to sleep on a bed.”

“I’m fine,” Harry says, and he stands up from his chair. It moves back and hits the wall with a soft thud that goes unnoticed by both of you. “You should go home, too. I need to finish some stuff up. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

To neither of your surprise, you don’t move from your spot standing before his desk. You cross your arms over your chest, digging your sneakered toe into the plush rug on the floor of his office - you hadn’t noticed it before, but it’s pale blue and bright against the mahogany floors. The brief silence between you two, daring either of you to speak, fills the confined space and all you can hear is the ticking of the clock behind you, and finally you say, “You’re not going to get anything done when you’re exhausted. I mean, you fell asleep on the essays. How are you going to explain why there’s drool on their assignments?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile in response, looking down at the essay he’d been working on as if to check that no saliva had landed on the words. “You caught me at a bad time. I don’t usually fall asleep on top of student essays, I promise - but you should be heading out now. It’s getting dark.”

It is getting dark, he’s right - the window behind his desk shows the darkness that newly falls over the campus. And the thought of walking home in the dark scares you just a bit, but you’ll suck it up if it gets him to go home too. “Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll help you grade tomorrow. But you’re fucking yourself here -”

(Harry laughs at your choice of words internally, but it comes out as a small release of air and a soft grin.)

“ - so come on. Walk out with me so I can make sure you’re actually going home.”

Perhaps he’s realized he’s fighting a losing battle here, because finally he looks back down at the stack of ungraded essays with a small sigh and then says, “Fine.”

“Great.” Your grin widens across your face, and for a moment you make to hold out your hand to him, to drag him along like you would to any of your friends - but the second your hand raises you drop it down to your side, and heat burns your cheeks. He’s not one of your other friends, you tell yourself, stepping out of his office, hearing him walk behind you. And you can’t hold his hand, even as a joke.

“Where’s your dorm?” Harry asks you as he locks the door to his office and jiggles the handle to check it, and you jump at the chance to forget about what happened - you don’t want to dwell on it. “Is it far?”

“Across campus.” You raise your arm and point in the distinct direction of where your building is. “Closer to the cafeteria, I guess.”

“Christ, you have a trek, then, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” The pair of you make your way to the staircase, and from the corner of the eye you can see his head turning left and right down the hallway, as if scanning to see if there’s anyone coming - you can imagine it wouldn’t be great for him to be seen with a student long after classes ended. “I had to haul ass there and back to get my bag.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not until you’ve left the warm building and made your way into the cold air, the sun now having retreated for the night, and immediately you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself to try and provide some semblance of warmth. Harry glances down at you with a bemused smile, and you hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“Well,” you sigh, breath coming out in white puffs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Don’t burn yourself out, professor. And get a good night’s rest.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

“Maybe.” You grin, feeling goosebumps sprout on your skin, and you shiver before turning in the direction of your dorm - the thought of walking home in the dark and cold doesn’t sound too great, but you’ve become good at dealing with it. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He doesn’t respond, and you’ve taken a few steps away when he calls out, “D’you want a ride?”

What?

“Y’know, like a ride back to your dorm. I can drop you off in the back - it’s just really cold and I’m sure you don’t want to walk so far in the dark.”

You turn back around to look at him, his cheeks a light shade of pink - whether from the cold or his offer, you can’t tell. And you’d love to jump in his car, accept his offer without a shadow of hesitation, but - “Is that allowed?”

Harry shrugs, and you know that’s code for absolutely not. “No one has to find out.”

(Your stomach drops, then.)

“Sure.” You take a few steps back towards him, and he spins on his heel, leading you to his car, and you walk in silence until you reach it. By the time you’re both safely in his car - his head turning every so often to check if there was anyone watching the pair of you - you’re shivering desperately, and you know you would have been positively miserable walking back to your dorm in these temperatures. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

“S’no problem, really.” His hand goes behind your seat as he turns to look behind him, and you hate the way the simple action makes you feel. “I’d rather know you get home safe than have you walk so far in the dark. Pretty girl like you, can never be too careful.”

You pause, cheek pressed against the cold window, and turn to look at him with a small smile. “Ooh, I’m a pretty girl now?”

“Wasn’t the point, Y/N,” Harry mutters, dropping his hand onto the center console, and if it were anyone else driving you like this, you’d rest your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers and pressing your palms together. But he’s your professor, as much as you’re beginning to wish he weren’t, so you slide your hands beneath your thighs. “Which building, again?”

“McKinley,” you respond, voice barely louder than the sound of the heat blasting into his car.

His car smells like eucalyptus and mint, and it’s surprisingly clean compared to his office - you wonder if his house is messy or clean, or a balanced mix, because you can’t quite catch a vibe for whether he’s organized or not. But, no - you’ll never see his house, surely. You can’t.

“I used to date a girl who lived at McKinley,” he tells you, and you exhale slowly. You can tell he’s merely trying to make conversation but the sentiment isn’t making your internal conflicts any easier to manage. “Real nice dorms.”

“They’re alright.” In fact, you’ve been at university for 3 years and resided in 3 different dormitories and they’re your least favourite, with furniture that’s too big for rooms that are too small and bathrooms that can hardly fit more than 5 people, but you don’t tell him that. “Not the greatest.”

“S’what she told me, too,” Harry says, and you smile down at your lap, but you can’t find anything else to respond to that, so you take to gazing out the window.

Within a few seconds he’s slowing down, and you can recognize the back entrance to your building. You reach down and pick your bag off the ground, digging through it to find your key.

When you have it clutched in your hand, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to look at him - to your surprise his eyes are already on you, and you swallow thickly. “Um - thanks for driving me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You hesitate a moment before turning and swinging open the car door. You hop out and, just before you can shut it, he says, “Y/N.” And when you duck your head back into his car, raising your eyebrows, he adds, “Please don’t tell anyone I drove you home. You’re right - s’not allowed.”

“Alright.” Then, before you can help yourself, you flash him a wide grin and say, “Thanks for letting me be the exception, then.”

With that, you shut the door of his car, bounding up to the door of your building, and you swear you can feel his gaze remaining on you before his car drives off, and when you turn back around, it’s gone.

(In the back of your mind, you’re entirely too aware of the fact that merely sitting in his car crossed some sort of line that you didn’t know existed until now, but you don’t really know how far past it you are - not yet.)

“I have a question.”

You look up from the rubric you’d been working at - the student whose essay you’re grading hadn’t done too well on it, but you were trying to give them the most points you could, anyway. Harry’s looking down at his essay like he hadn’t spoken, but when he feels your gaze on him, he continues. “Why did you care so much? Yesterday. Me grading more s’less work for you to do. I feel like you should be loving that shit.”

It’s a reasonable question but, for a moment, you struggle thinking of how to answer it without exposing yourself to him. Finally, you give him a grin and say, “Well, if you were sleep deprived, it would make you mean.” He chuckles softly, and you can tell that’s not the answer he wanted, and it couldn’t have been further from the truth. So you add, “I guess I’m used to being the mom friend. Making sure all of my friends get a good night’s sleep and whatever.”

Harry pauses. “So we’re friends, then.”

You shrug, trying to stop the smile from peeking through onto your face. Being friends with Harry sounds positively dreamy and if it could segue into something else - whichitcan’t - you’d be the happiest girl alive.

You nod. “Yeah, aren’t we.” But it isn’t a question, and you can see the way his eyes twinkle at your response.

After a moment, you shift in your entirely entirely entirely too bloody uncomfortable chair, the wood making your butt ache. “I have a question, now.”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you pick the most uncomfortable chair you possibly could for your guests to sit in?”

“Gets ‘em out of my office quicker.” Harry glances up and meets your glare with a laugh. “But I don’t want you to leave, so you can move to the couch, if you’d like.”

You hop out of the chair without a second’s hesitation, clutching your essay and your pen, flopping down on the couch and feeling your body weight sink into it. God, it’s so soft and your body relaxes into it, the relief of not being confined to the small, wooden chair so magnificent you could scream. Harry watches you with an amused grin, and says, “I feel like you’re being just a bit dramatic here.”

“Me? Dramatic? Never.” You sprawl yourself across the couch, head atop of the armrest, staring up at the white ceiling tiles above you. “I’m telling you, Harry, that chair is terrible. You should burn it.”

“So dramatic.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up slightly so you can rest your paper on your lap and still manage to scrawl semi-legible notes on this person’s piss poor essay. You wonder, briefly, if this is how Harry felt when he’d graded your 1984 essay, but - well - doesn’t matter now. And you’d fail that essay a thousand times over to get to this point, a point of companionship with your professor that you’re not sure any other student has felt with him before. At least, none that he’s told you about. It makes you feel special, and spectacular, and also the tiniest bit confused.

Why are you so special?

Maybe he’s lonely, or he’s merely entertaining your presence because you’re helping him grade, but you swear you can feel something more hidden within the lines of your relationship.

It doesn’t really matter, though, even if it is just a tad confusing.

“You should get going,” Harry tells you after another 15 minutes of you working at grading the essay. “You’ve been here for nearly two hours, bloody hell, wasn’t watching the time at all.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, though, in truth, you do have quite a bit of homework to work on later. “Don’t really have anything else to do.”

You sit up anyway, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch and stretching your arms above your head. Tiredness is beginning to affect you but you try not to let it.

“Well, in any case, you should be heading out now.” Harry nods his head towards the window behind him, the blinds pulled up so you can see the sun, nearly completely sunk below the horizon, the sky fading from reds and oranges to a dark shade of blue.

“What about you, professor?”

“What about me?” “You’re going home now too - right?”

He looks at you with a faux annoyed glare, but he can’t help the amusement from seeping through his features, and finally he breaks your stare with an exhale of breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever win this against you, will I?”

And you shake your head in response. “Never. So let’s go. Get your things.”

You take the next five minutes to gather all your stuff - resting the essay on top of his desk, sliding your phone and water bottle into your backpack, and zipping your bag shut - as Harry grabs his computer bag and his key. The two of you move surprisingly in sync with each other, sorting all of your stuff from around his small office, before making your way outside with him locking the door behind him.

It’s nearly completely dark, even colder than it had been the day prior. You reach behind you and pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your hair, protecting your ears, at least, from the chill.

You turn and face him, giving him a wide smile. The air is silent around you, surprisingly empty though the bitterness of the cold must be a contributing factor to that. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor. Make sure you get a good night’s rest -”

“Don’t want a ride?”

Your grin widens, and his eyes sparkle, even in the darkness, at your expression. “Well, of course I do, but it’s rude to invite myself into your car.”

“You’re not inviting yourself - I’m inviting you. Or, rather, demanding you. C’mon.”

Harry walks fast and you have to speed up your pace to keep up with him, though you suspect that has something to do with wanting to be free of any wandering eyes as quickly as possible. You recognize his car in the parking lot and bound ahead of him, standing by the passenger side door and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and warm yourself up, and for a moment his pace slows as he stares and looks at you. Standing by his car, holding an incredibly oversized hoodie tight to your body, a wide smile gracing your face.

“Staring is rude, professor,” you inform him as he shakes his head, unlocking his car and climbing into the driver’s seat. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”

Your lilt is teasing but you can tell it makes him slightly defensive either way.

“S’hard not to sometimes,” Harry tells you, and you giggle softly.

“So first, I’m a pretty girl, and now I’m hard not to stare at?” You drop your head back against the headrest, blowing air softly out of your mouth as you reach to buckle your seatbelt. “Keep this up, Harry, and my ego’s gonna be too big to even fit in your car.”

Harry laughs at that, resting his hand on your seat to back out of his parking spot. The radio softly plays some pop song that had been overtaking the charts recently, and you hum softly to it before turning your head to look at him. You examine his side profile - perfect, like every other angle of him - as he pulls out of the parking lot, making a left out of it.

He turns to see you watching him, and you watch redness bloom over his cheeks. “Staring is rude, Y/N.”

You smile, about to parrot his previous words back at him - it’s hard not to - but you bite your tongue, gazing at the road in front of you. A light drizzle is beginning to fall, a barely audible pitterpatter on the windshield, and that’s the only noise, for a moment - that and the radio playing, like a thought in the back of your mind.

The drive to your dorm seems to be taking longer than it had been yesterday and you can’t imagine why, but you appreciate just sitting in the car with him. Even if you’re not saying much, listening to his even breathing calms you.

You want to break the silence, though it’s comfortable rather than awkward. You like talking to him, like hearing everything he has to say, but you have no idea what you can possibly tell him that wouldn’t seem forced and awkward. So you sit, curling your legs up to your chest as you stare at the streets, and entirely too soon, the back of the McKinley building becomes apparent.

You want to stay in his car forever. Want to stay with him forever.

“Thanks for the ride,” you tell him, your voice sounding uncomfortably loud in the soft car. He nods in response, but for a moment neither of you move. You can’t bring yourself to leave yet, even if you know you have to, that he might have someone waiting for him at home.

“Y/N.” You turn and look at him, your eyes meeting his with your brows furrowed. “Uh - if you ever want a ride home, or to class, you can just let me know. Text me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

Harry’s cheeks are bright pink and there’s too much tension in the car, so thick you feel like you could cut it with a knife, and you lean down, unzipping your bag and pulling your phone out.

He takes it from you once you unlock it, going into your contacts and you watch as he types his phone number in, adding the contact name as Harry S. and you think you’ll be changing that later. He leaves the contact photo blank, which you expected - if anyone saw the name Harry S. in your phone, the contact photo would give it away.

He hands your phone back to you when he’s done, and your fingers graze his when you take it. “Just text me, then. If you need a ride.”

“Alright.” you give him a smile, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door. “Thank you, Harry. Really.”

“My pleasure,” he says, and you grab your bag, hooking your arm underneath the strap and racing up to the back entrance of your building. It’s only when you get inside, the door firmly shut behind you, that you turn around again, and his car is gone.

10:52 PM

Y/N: hey professor...it’s y/n. just wanna make sure u have my number saved in case of emergencies

Harry S.: How is it you can have the highest grade of any student in my class and use improper grammar while texting?

Y/N: it’s a talent i guess

Y/N: texting like you’re writing an essay makes ppl v uncomfortable, and i speak from personal experience

Harry S.: So you’re uncomfortable right now, then?

Y/N: nooo, ur different

Harry S.: To quote this girl I know, ‘thanks for letting me be the exception, then.’

Y/N: how did u remember that? that makes me uncomfortable

Harry S.: Haha.

Harry S.: You should be sleeping right now. Students need their full 8 hours, don’t they?

Y/N: so do professors, as i keep telling u, but…

Y/N: i had hw to do, also had to make mac n cheese for dinner

Harry S.: You can do your homework in my office, you know. And then you can probably make it to the refectory for dinner.

Y/N: the food at the refectory sucks

Harry S.: Yeah, you’re right.

Harry S.: But I do feel bad that staying to help me grade made you have to stay up until 11 doing homework.

Y/N: well honestly i’d rather be sitting in ur office talking to u than in my dorm doing american lit work

Harry S.: Why’s that?

Y/N: ig i like hanging out with u

Y/N: u should feel honored btw

Harry S.: Believe me, I do. And now you should get to bed so you’re not grumpy tomorrow morning.

Y/N: ig i deserved that… and i’ll only go to bed if u do too

Harry S.: I will.

Y/N: promise??

Harry S.: I promise.

Harry S.: Goodnight.

Y/N: goodnight, professor

After a week, your arrangement has changed slightly.

Every day, you spend just a bit more time in his office. Then he drives you home, in comfortable silence, and from the minute you step into your dorm, you’re fishing your phone out of your bag to text him. Every night that you lie awake, texting him until you physically can’t keep your eyes open, the line that you’ve been dipping your toe across falls back even more.

The stack of assignments that need to be graded are beginning to dwindle, and you hate it. Hate to see the pile of ungraded work getting smaller and smaller, because when it’s gone, you probably won’t step foot in his office again.

Truthfully, and as embarrassing as it may be, Harry has become one of your closest friends at school. He’s funny and nice, and he brought you hot chocolate with powder left unmixed at the bottom after you mentioned that’s how you used to like it when you were younger, and he plays music on his phone at a low volume while you work on grading.

Of course, as your friendship with Harry grows, so does the burning feelings for him that reside in the pit of your stomach day after day. And you know he doesn’t feel the same - he can’t - and maybe that’s painful for you, only slightly, but you’ve become rather talented at hiding those emotions. He can’t know that, everytime he laughs at one of your jokes, your heart swells - and everytime he reads a sentence from one of the essays out loud, using a mocking, deep voice, it makes your stomach flip.

You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so passionately about anyone, and that’s scary. Scary to think that the one man you want more than anyone else is the only person you can’t have.

“Y/N,” he says, and when you look up at him from your spot sprawled on the couch, he’s nibbling at the tip of his pen. “D’you think this makes sense?”

And he reads you a few lines written by one of his students - a name you recognize from being in your class, you think, but you’ve been paying attention less and less to other students during lectures. All you focus on is Harry, his booming voice projecting through the hall as he talks about the stories you’re reading, and every so often his eyes meet yours and the smile that spreads across his face could bring tears to your eyes, if you let it.

“Um - I guess. It’s worded kind of strangely, don’t you think? But I’d cut them some slack on it.” Harry nods and scribbles something in the margins of Nathalie Carron’s essay before flipping the page. “Can I put in a song request?”

He nods, then, picking up his phone from where it sits on his desk. The Chain plays softly, not too loud to interrupt your train of thought, but not too soft that you can’t hear it. “��Course.”

“Heroes by David Bowie.” You glance back up at him, dropping Hannah Joseph’s essay on your stomach. “You like Bowie, right?”

“Who doesn’t, is the real question.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You grin, glancing up at the white tiled ceiling as the song fills the hair, replacing Fleetwood. “You know, we should make a playlist for grading.”

Harry laughs. “A playlist of just Fleetwood and a dash of Bowie?”

“No, no. It can have other stuff, too. I mean, we know what we like.”

“Alright, alright.” He picks up his phone again, and you see his thumbs moving feverishly on the screen. “Y’know what, I’ll make it right now and show it to you for approval.”

“Make it good.” You pause, picking your essay up again. “No Justin Bieber.”

He snorts, and you relish in the noise.

The next ten minutes passes in mainly silence - when Heroes ends, Fleetwood continues, playing Secondhand News, and you hum to the tune. Harry’s ringer is on and you can hear it, the sound of the keyboard on his phone as he searches up song titles, and you rest the essay back on your stomach, writing messy notes with the pen you snatched from the mug on his desk again.

You sit up, suddenly, leaning over to rest Hannah’s fully graded essay on his desk, and instead of reaching for a new one to work on, you push yourself to your knees, resting your palms on his desk and attempting to lean over and peek at the playlist. But he anticipates that - he knows you’re nosy - and tilts his phone towards him, intercepting your attempts to eavesdrop.

“Don’t be impatient,” he murmurs, a smile tugging across his lips as he scrolls through something. “I’m almost done.”

You hum in response, dropping back down onto the couch, stretching your entire body across it, head resting on the armrest. The two of you settle back into a comfortable silence - he’s paused the music, by now - lasting only a moment or two before he stands up from his insanely comfortable chair, maneuvering his way around to the couch where you’re lying. He crouches down next to you, handing you his phone, opened to a Spotify playlist, and you greedily snatch the device from him, flicking through the songs.

Your eyes scan every song, absorbing every song title.

I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash - My Eyes Adored You by the Four Seasons - Your Song by Elton John?

Love songs. Every single one of them.

You push yourself up, sitting leaning against the armrest, as your eyes fall on the last song of the playlist - When I Kissed The Teacher by Abba. You lower his phone to your lap, looking at him with a slightly confused smile adorning your face.

He watches you intently, your heads a mere few inches apart, then reaches down to grab his phone off your lap, and you laugh lightly before saying, “it’s a lot of love songs.”

“They reminded me of you,” he tells you, voice quiet, testing the waters.

“They - they did?” It doesn’t make sense to you - doesn’t make sense that 45 love songs should bring you to the forefront of his mind, that every single time he hears Fooled Around And Fell In Love he should think of you.

They make you think of him, though.

And without thinking - of what you’re doing or of the consequences - you lean in, closing the short distance between your faces, pressing your lips against his so softly that it feels like it’s a mere breath on your mouth.

Harry pulls back, lips barely a centimeter from yours, exhaling softly. “We shouldn’t.”

You hum in agreement, already leaning back in. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

Your lips meet again and his hand goes to your face, cupping your jaw, and when he deepens the kiss you whimper into his mouth, bringing both of your hands to the back of his head. Your fingers bury themselves in his curls, tugging on the chocolate brown strands, and he groans softly into your mouth.

It’s everything you’d imagined and more, as the hand not on your cheek drops down to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. The angle is awkward - you sitting on the couch and him kneeling before it - so you unattach your lips, much to your dismay, and swing your legs around the edge of the couch so he’s situated between them. Harry’s eyes are wide, his hair mussed up, and you lean back in without a moment’s hesitation to resume the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, and he tastes like mint tea and fucking heaven.

Both of his hands go down to your waist, tugging you to the very edge of the couch so your bodies are as close as they can be, and yours go to the back of his neck, dipping underneath the collar of his button down shirt to scratch at his back. It feels muscular, more toned than you were expecting, and feeling the skin underneath your nails makes you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck -” you groan softly as he moves his lips down your chin and to your jaw, nibbling softly at your skin, as if experimenting to see what you like - your reaction prompts him to move further down, licking a stripe down your neck and to the base of your collarbone. One of his hands - very large hands - slide up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing the mound of flesh through your tight shirt. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Harry hums against your collarbone, pressing open mouthed kisses across your skin. Your nails dragging down his back causes him to bite down gently to stifle the moan rising from his throat, but you hear it and Goditspursyouonsofuckingmuch. “God, Y/N -”

His praise is cut short by the sound of three swift knocks on the door - he pulls back from you, nearly falling back on his ass with the speed at which he stands, and your eyes flash to the door. Your heart is pounding desperately in your chest - are the doors soundproof? Did someone outside hear you? The thought makes you sick to your stomach, and your eyes meet Harry’s to find the same worry in his orbs.

Within moments he’s back behind his desk, running a hand through his hair to try and smooth it out, and you’ve reached to grab Hannah Joseph’s essay off his desk just as he calls, “come in!” in a voice that’s far too cheery for the panic that had just overtaken the both of you.

The door opens and from the corner of your eye you can recognize the girl who walks in - she lives across the hall from you, and her name is … Anna or Emma or something similar. She’s nice, and you should remember her name, but your brain is so scrambled that you can’t think of it.

Harry kissing you. Harry making you a playlist. Harry’s hands on your waist, pulling your body into his.

It’s everything you’ve dreamt of since the beginning of the semester, feeling his touch on you. And when you close your eyes, you try to imagine what would have happened if nobody knocked on the door, and it sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, sitting at his desk as he looks over Anna-or-Emma’s essay.

You can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. The girl (who, now that you think of it, may be named Alana) is asking Harry a million bogus questions about the essay requirements he’d just given out and her shirt is so low cut that you’re surprised her boobs haven’t fallen out. Whether that was intentional or not isn’t something you dwell on, but something about sitting on the couch, trying to steady your breathing while your clit throbs violently feels wrong.

“I’m gonna go, professor,” you say, interrupting her question, and she looks at you like you just told her you’re going to give her a million dollars. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Harry calls as you grab your bag and shut the door behind you. His voice sounds pained, almost, as though he doesn’t want you to leave him alone with a girl whose only goal is clearly to fuck his brains out. You practically run down the hall, which isn’t close to being as empty as it usually is when you and Harry leave at the end of the day.

Your shirt is tight and short sleeved and you can picture your jacket, up in his office, thrown over the back of the couch. You’d been in such a rush to leave that you’d left it, and you’re beginning to truly feel the consequences of it as the cold corners you, attacking your skin, and you could go back up to his office and get it but you just want to go home. The sun is setting, and it’s earlier than when you usually leave.

The walk home is decidedly miserable, the wind sending tears streaking down your cheeks, and your mind is practically going into overdrive. Jesus Christ. You kissed your professor, and he kissed you back. And then you left, like a fucking idiot. He probably feels terrible - feels like he violated you, or ruined his career. But he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. If you were more respectable you’d go back to his building and apologize for running out, wrap your arms around him and kiss him like you fucking mean it, but all you do is scan your card to get into McKinley and walk down the hall to your dorm.

Your roommate is out - at her boyfriend’s, as per usual, but you appreciate it. Truth be told, you haven’t seen her much since the first few weeks of the semester, but she seemed nice enough. You drop your bag onto your bed and collapse on top of the covers, gazing up at the ceiling.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, brushing your fingertips over your lips with the same feather light touch that the first press of Harry’s lips to yours had felt like. You can still feel it - feel him - if you close your eyes, his hands grasping your hips and his lips trailing down your collarbone.

Slowly, you press your palm to your stomach, trailing it down your torso until you reach the button of your jeans. You undo it with shaky fingers and push them lower down, beneath the hem of your cotton thong, and the first brush of your fingertips against your clit sends a shiver down your spine and a whine falling off your lips.

Harry’s hand on your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt as he kisses down your neck - oh my god, licking down your neck, biting your skin, his eyes are so wide, his hair is messy from where you grabbed it, and you hadn’t been interrupted he would’ve climbed on top of you, pressing you into the couch, tugging your jeans down your thighs and -

Maybe he would’ve done what you’re doing now, sliding his digits into your heat, fingers longer than yours, hitting every spot that you need him to. Or maybe he would’ve slid down your body, lifting your shirt to suck a deep purple mark into your chest, before burying his face in your cunt -

A very loud moan falls from your lips as you push a finger inside of yourself, curling them immediately to hit the spot inside of you that makes your tummy flip.

But maybe - just maybe - Harry wouldn’t have bothered with that. Would’ve watched, breathing so heavy as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his nice dress pants to wrap your hand around his cock, throwing his head back and moaning as you swiped your thumb over the tip of him.

You’re so close so fast you can practically taste the orgasm creeping up on you, your hips bucking up to meet where your fingers are feverishly rubbing circles on your clit.

And he would’ve slid into you, and he’s so big that he’s stretching you out more than any of your fingers or the guy you’ve been with, and he’d grab your chin and force your head up and kiss you so fucking hard, his hips flush against yours -

With a strangled cry, you curl your fingers once more and then you’re cumming, release coating your fingers as your hips roll into your hand. All you can think about is him and what could have happened, and the fact that you may have ruined the start of something magnificent, but God if the orgasm wasn’t good.

You pull your hand out of your panties, wiping your dripping fingers on the denim of your jeans. For a moment, you merely stare back up at the ceiling, focusing on steadying your breathing, and then you stand up, kicking your jeans off your legs and tossing them onto your dresser. You have a pair of plaid pajama pants crumbled in a pile at the bottom of your bed from the morning, and you pull them over your legs with a sigh. Perhaps it’s not the height of cleanliness, but they’re soft and comfortable, and you lie back down on your bed once they’re on.

After nearly an hour, you still haven’t done anything but sit and do nothing, occasionally flicking through your phone. You wish you could fall asleep but your brain is working far too fast to even think about resting, and -

The sound of your phone getting a notification startles you, and you groan, grabbing your phone to look at whoever disturbed your panic.

Harry S.: I’m behind your building. I have your jacket.

He’s here? Jesus Christ, you just came over him and damn near cried over him and now you have to see him.

Perfect.

Your heart skips a beat, and you jump up without a second thought. You look an absolute fool, stuffing your feet into the first pair of shoes you can find - a pair of slip on Vans that are so dirty they can barely constitute as white - before you’re running out the door, your phone tucked in the waistband of your pants, heading down the hall and out the back entrance where Harry’s black car sits, waiting.

You walk up to his car, pathetically out of breath, and lower your head so you can see him through the window as he rolls it down.

“Hi.” Your tone is quiet, and you clear your throat. “Um, I’m sorry about running off like that. I just got overwhelmed and that girl showing up made me - um - nervous.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says, though he’s very pointedly not making eye contact. “M’sorry if I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, or -”

“No, I kissed you first -”

“But I’m your professor.” He says the word with an odd inflection, nearly pained. “I shouldn’t have let it escalate. I’m sorry.”

You dig the toe of your shoe into the road, looking down at the passenger seat where your jacket sits, waiting. The tension is palpable and you swallow thickly, then grab the car handle, forcing the door open so you can grab your jacket. You wrap the fabric around your shoulders - the seat heaters made it warm and you could nearly cry at the way it embraces you.

Harry watches you - you can see him from the corner of your eye - and then he looks down at your body, your shirt and your pajama pants with no pockets, and asks, “D’you have your key to go back in your dorm? S’just, you don’t have any pockets … I can’t see it.”

Shit. No, you don’t. You hadn’t thought about that when you were running out to see him. Perhaps he can decide the answer from the way your face drops, because he exhales with a small smile, barely perceptible, and nods his head. “Get in.”

You grab the door handle again, pulling the door open and climbing inside. The seat is toasty and warm and the car is toasty and warm and altogether you feel like both of those adjectives combined. The radio plays softly - or maybe it’s his phone, hooked up to the aux cord, because Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney is a song you recognize reading on the playlist he’d made. You slam the door shut and wrap your arms around yourself, holding your jacket closer to your body, before turning your head to glance at him. He still hasn’t started driving, merely gazing at you, and you feel your skin heat under his eyes. “Where are we going, professor?” It’s a stupid question, because you aren’t going anywhere yet, and he doesn’t look like he plans to start driving anytime soon.

“I’ll take you back to my apartment.” HIs eyes haven’t left yours, and your stomach turns. “How does that sound?”

You exhale softly. “Sounds perfect,” and then you’re leaning in, pressing your cold palms to the side of his cheeks and bringing his face into yours.

Your lips meet and it’s more desperate than it was in his office - teeth clashing and your tongues brushing against each other, as if he’s trying to devour you. His hand rests atop of yours, dwarfing you pathetically, before dragging his fingertips down your arm and up to your shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the sleeve of your shirt.

Where you’re cold from the air outside, Harry is so warm and toasty, his breath hot against your face when you pull away briefly. He presses his forehead to yours and then leans up, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and smirking at the whimper you let out.

“Wait,” he tells you, voice low and quiet, and you nod slowly. “When we get to my apartment - but not now.”

You nod feverishly and sit back in your seat obediently, desperate for him to finally start driving. His hand rests on top of the center console and you stare at it for a moment - you can do it, do what you’ve wanted to do every single time he’s driven you home - and you place your palm overtop of his. He turns it over so your palms are pressed together, fingers intertwining, and you’re sure he can hear your heartbeat with how loudly it’s beating in your chest.

The line that you’ve crossed is so far behind you that it’s a mere dot in the distance.

The car ride to his apartment is short - only 2 full songs play during it, and you recognize My Girl and I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight from the playlist. Truth be told, it feels as though you’d been in the car for hours and hours, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. You want nothing more than to crawl across the center console and straddle him, kiss him until you’re both breathless and go as far as you’d fantasized about but you have to wait.

Harry’s unlocking the door of his apartment entirely too slow for your liking. It’s as though he’s trying to tease you, make you antsy, when all you want is for him to press you against the wall and kiss you silly.

He lives in a large brick apartment building - one of the newer ones, you know - in an apartment on the third floor. You’ve passed his building so many times driving through town and you never even knew it - didn’t know the man who lived there was someone you’d be so desperate for.

“Come on,” he whispers, though there’s no real reason for the two of you to be quiet - perhaps it just fits the mood. Harry’s hand wraps around your wrist as he tugs you into the now-open door of his apartment, flicking on the light switch residing beside the door.

As light floods the apartment you’re somehow both surprised and also not at all. It’s surprisingly tidy, resembling more of his car than his office, and - to your relief - it’s quite obvious he’s the only one who lives here. You slip out of your Vans and take a moment to look around. A cat sits on top of the couch (her name is Marie, named after Aristocats, you learned from class) and you can’t stop yourself from gravitating towards her, using two fingers to stroke down her back as you peek around the apartment.

Yes, it is quite clean, and surprisingly colorful - there’s a striped rug and red couches and your eyes fly a bookshelf filled with picture frames against the wall. One is him with four other guys, arms wrapped around each other - one of him and Marie - one of him, significantly younger, hugging a girl who looks extremely similar to him.

“Is this your sister?” you ask, unaware of where he is in the apartment but trusting he hasn’t strayed too far from you.

“Yeah,” he responds, and you jump slightly. Harry stands just behind you, and when you turn to face him he’s fighting back a grin. “So nosy, aren’t you?”

You raise your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling his head down to yours as his hands gravitate down towards your lower back where your shirt rises just a couple inches from your pants, exposing a strip of skin, and his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “I guess I am nosy. Can’t help it.”

Harry leans down, then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and down the bridge of your nose before landing on your lips - you whine into his mouth, pushing yourself onto your toes to try and deepen it, swiping your tongue into his mouth. It’s so different than before - heavier, deeper, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Please,” you whimper against his lips as his hands creep farther down your back, landing on the globes of your ass through your soft pajama pants. “I need you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You can hear a sense of cockiness working its way into his voice and you groan softly as he pulls away from you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

You need everything. You need everything he can possibly give you and more - you need wish fulfillment of everything you’ve dreamt of since the start of the semester and that includes every single goddamn appendage on his body put to use somehow.

But you can’t possibly begin to tell him that, not yet. His fingers are already trailing down to the waistband of your pants, tugging at the tie that holds them up when you breathe, “Your mouth. Please, I need - I need your mouth.”

It’s not enough for him, you can tell, as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your throat, sucking softly. “M’using my mouth.”

“H - Harry …”

“Where d’you want my mouth?”

You curse beneath your breath, and he pulls his head back to raise his eyebrows at the sound. You bury your hand in his hair, tugging lightly on his curls, before squeezing your eyes shut and muttering, “Want your mouth … down there.”

As much as you want it - and Godyouwantitsofuckingmuch - it makes it no less awkward to say it out loud.

“Down where, baby?” Harry asks, voice teasing and so fucking smug. “Down here?” His hand sprawls across your stomach, pressing down on your abdomen and you moan softly. “No … down here, s’that right?”

His hand slides down to your cunt, pressing his palm overtop of you through your pajama pants and you’re so wet you’re sure he can feel it even through two layers of fabric. Your throaty cry in response and the feverish nod of your head confirms what he’d been teasing you about, and Harry delivers one last soft kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees before you.

Fuck. You never thought you’d see Professor Harry Styles, the man of your dreams and the one person you considered to be entirely unattainable, kneeling in front of you with his nice dress pants on and a crisp button up shirt. He looks entirely normal, save for his messy hair and lust blown pupils, and you’re sure you look a bloody mess but his eyes still devour you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You drop your shaky hands down to the tie of your pants, undoing it at record speed, and he hooks his fingers in your waistband. Slowly - so slowly - Harry tugs them down and his eyes remain on you as though expecting you to stop him, but you can’t. Finally they pool by your feet and you lift your legs to kick them off, sending them flying near the couch where Marie resides.

Had you known this would be happening perhaps you would have opted for racier panties - your cotton thong isn’t terrible but it certainly isn’t doing you any favours, and you have so many lace ones at home that would have been perfect for the opportunity - but Harry still looks at you like you created the world. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh and then the other, leaning in to suck a dark purple hickey into your skin.

You suppose he has a thing for hickeys.

Your fingers twist in his curls, trying to direct his head up to where you truly need him, and he chuckles softly - the soft exhalation of air makes you whine as it hits your cunt, even through your panties. A soft kiss is what he lands on your clothed clit, and your hips buck up into his mouth. You’d forgotten, perhaps, that you’d had an orgasm less than an hour prior but you’re very swiftly reminded, and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“So reactive,” he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit through your underwear and sucking softly. “Just the way I like.”

A shaky breath escapes your mouth as you toss your head back, legs shaking and you can’t expect them to hold you up much longer. One of his hands moves to the back of your thigh, kneading your skin softly, and the other dips into the hem of your panties and slowly tugs them down. You’re so wet that the fabric is desperate to stick to your dripping cunt but he manages to roll them down your legs, face to face with your pussy and -

Heat floods through your body and up to your face as you look down and make eye contact with Harry. Now that he’s down there, gazing at your bare pussy, you feel oddly compelled to protect whatever modesty you have left and shut your legs but then he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, pushing you back just a bit until your back smacks into the wall, and leans in.

The first stripe he licks up your core sends a choked cry from the back of your throat and then a long whine as Harry focuses his attention on your clit. His tongue flicks the swollen bud, still rubbing circles into the back of your thigh. Your heel digs into his back as he moves one hand up to your cunt, running his finger through your soaked folds before pushing it inside of you.

He curls his finger, mimicking a come hither motion until he brushes against the spot that makes your hips jerk against his face. Harry’s lips wrap around your clit and when your eyes roll back into your head, he takes his hand off your thigh and snaps his fingers.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice muffled against your cunt, and the vibrations roll through your body like an earthquake. “I wanna watch you fall apart. Look at me.”

Slowly you lower your eyes back down to him, meeting his gaze as he pulls his mouth away briefly - smacks his lips - and pushes a second finger into your dripping heat. As he thrusts them in and out, hitting that sweet spot in your velvet walls, you can feel your orgasm building in the pit of your tummy embarrassingly fast, but you want to hold out for him. Want to prolong this as long as you can.

Harry’s teeth brush against your clit and you cry out, barely hearing the way he groans, “So fucking reactive for me, yeah?” but you can hear it and it only makes you moan louder. His tongue draws patterns over your clit and he’s so determined to maintain eye contact but you can tell it’s a struggle for both of you.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licking a thin stripe up one of them as if he can’t get enough of your taste before reaching his arm up so his fingers rest on your bottom lip. Obediently you open your mouth, accepting his digits and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his skin, as he leans back, glancing up at you with heat blazing in his eyes.

“You’re close,” he tells you, his voice deep and throaty. “Can feel it - feel how you’re clenching around my fingers, baby. D’you wanna cum? Tell me how fucking bad you want it.”

Harry pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing a slow circle as you struggle to find your voice before gasping, “Fuck - need to cum so fucking bad Harry - Harry, oh my god -”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, H - Harry -”

“Cum for me, baby.”

He leans in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your tummy finally exploding. Your head falls back against the wall with a thud that’s hardly audible over your loud shrieks and moans, your leg finally giving out and you damn near slide to the ground before Harry hooks an arm around your thigh to keep you upright.

His tongue flicks at your clit gently, riding you through your orgasm, and when you’re coming down from your high it’s all you can focus on. There’s a high pitched ringing in your ears and you don’t think you’ve ever - ever - cum that hard in your life. You’d only been with one guy before who didn’t even know women could orgasm and your fingers never gave you anything so earth shattering.

Your breathing comes out in desperate pants as Harry rises from his knees, moving both hands to your hips as your legs nearly collapse again. Your clit is throbbing and when you press your body to his, leaning up to kiss him so desperately, you can feel his boner, hard against your thigh.

“Holy shit, professor.” It’s all you can manage, pulling away to drop your head against his chest, using the moment to try and steady your breaths. “W - who knew you were so good at that.”

His fingers brush through the ends of your hair, a gesture so sweet and innocent that it could make you forget what just occurred. “A hidden talent, I guess,” he mutters, gripping your chin to kiss you again.

You drop your hands to his waist, gripping his nice button down shirt in your tight grasp, surely wrinkling the fabric as you roll your hips against his. Even through his pants his hard on feels fucking huge and you’ve only been with one guy before and suddenly you’re wondering if he’ll even fit inside of you.

But you’ll try. By god, you’ll try. And you press your head to the wall, looking up at him with lust dilated pupils. “Harry.”

“Tell me what you need, baby.” But he already knows, and you can tell he needs the same thing.

You swallow, bucking your hips forward against his boner, and he groans. “I want you to fuck me. Please. I - I need you to fuck me, professor.”

The word makes him moan aloud, and within barely a second he’s grabbing your wrist, tugging you away from the wall and across the apartment until he’s swinging open a door and pulling you inside.

Something about being in his bedroom is entirely different than being in his living room, the carpet beneath your bare feet plush and soft. There’s a large television in front of his bed and the bed is made beautifully, a flannel blanket tossed over the end, and you can’t fucking wait to mess it up.

Harry spins you around to face him, attaching your lips once more as he shuts the door. You whimper into his mouth as his hand drops down to your bare bum, squeezing the flesh in his large palm. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice high pitched and breathy, “was nosing again -”

He groans as you drop your hand to the front of his fancy dress pants, trying desperately to undo the button with one shaking hand. It’s a struggle and finally he chuckles breathlessly, dropping both hands down to help you with the task, and finally you reach your hand into his trousers and press your palm against his cock, hot and heavy even through his boxers.

“Bed,” he grunts, backing you up until the back of your knees hit a hard edge and you fall backwards onto his plush duvet. He stands above you, breathing heavily, and for a moment you stare at each other, as though processing that this is happening - and the moment picks up again. Harry reaches down and tugs at the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off your body and sending it into the corner of the room. Your bra is lace, at least, and decidedly prettier than your panties, and for a moment he stares down at your chest with a look of pure lust adorning his face.

“You look a bit flushed, professor,” you tell him, voice faux innocent and sounding entirely more confident than you feel. “Are you feeling okay?”

Harry chuckles through gritted teeth, and you push yourself onto your elbows so you can work at the buttons of his shirt as he tugs his pants down his legs. “I’ve never been better, in fact.” His boxers are flannel and you can see the bulge in his boxers, and it’s even bigger than what you’d expected.

Your work at undoing his buttons slows down as your mind suddenly flips into overdrive - you must wear the worry that suddenly overtakes you because Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“When’s the last time you’ve done this?” he questions, voice soft and spun sugar sweet.

“Um -” you try and think. The last time you’d done this you’d lost your virginity and that was - “A year ago. Maybe longer.”

Harry nods, nudging your nose with his and giving you one final kiss before rising back up. His hands replace yours as he works on unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to go slow, baby. I promise.”

In every fantasy you’ve had about him, he’s not slow - he’s fast, pounding you so hard the bed is nearly louder than the noises you make - but now that you’re here with him? Maybe you need slow.

You nod, and he smiles down at you. He presses his hands onto the mattress and then snakes them beneath you, fingers working at the clasp of your bra, and you lift yourself up slightly so he can undo it and slide your last piece of clothing off of you. He sends it into another part of the room and you can’t be bothered to focus on it because - Christ! - all of a sudden Harry lowers his mouth to your breast, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and sucking.

“Fuck!” you gasp, fingers working themselves into his curls. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp and he moans lowly against your skin. Harry lifts his head off of you, pinching one of your nipples so you cry out.

He lifts one leg to rest on the bed and then grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Your legs instinctively spread and he watches you, breathing heavily. “Baby,” he mutters, hands slipping his boxers down his thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Heat burns your cheeks and you shut your eyes.

“Look at me,” Harry tells you, and it’s all you can do to obey. “Want you looking at me while I fuck you. Can you do that?”

You nod, swallowing as he grips one of your calves and hikes it onto the bed, exposing your sensitive, dripping cunt to him. You look down your body, where he’s grasping his achingly fucking hard cock in his hand, and then he drags the tip down your slit with a low hiss.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asks, voice soft and strained, as if he’s holding back and you know he is. But he needs this to be a good experience for you so it can be good for him and that’s what you appreciate.

“Y - yeah.” you push yourself onto your elbows and your eyes meet, maintaining perfect eye contact as he pushes himself inside of you. He’s going achingly slow and -

The stretch aches and you drop your head onto the mattress with a groan, Harry’s hand immediately finding your hand where you’re grasping the duvet feverishly. He bottoms out, fully sheathed in your warm cunt, a low groan piercing the air at the feeling of your walls, tight around him. It hurts - not as much as you’d expected, and the pain that quite literally fills you overtakes the burn.

You squeeze his hand, feeling his other run up and down the inside of your thigh as you adjust to him. “Oh - my god - wait - just - just one second wait one second -”

“Of course,” he breathes, and his voice is shaky with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. “T - take your time, babygirl.”

After a few seconds you push your head up to look at him, nodding slightly. “Okay. I need more, p - professor.”

You can tell he likes when you call him that and in some weird way you love it too - love knowing that the professor everyone lusts for is fucking you, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in, squeezing your hand when you cry out at the feeling. Maybe you’re not the first student to experience him like this but based on his demeanor you think you are - there’s something about him in this moment that feels like a secret you’ve discovered.

“Oh - fuck -” Harry grunts as he moves his hand from your thigh to your hip, pressing your body down with just enough force to limit your movements. It’s paining him, going so slow, you can tell - and you’re already starting to need more from him. You need him to go faster, and with a breathy moan you tell him.

Slowly his pace picks up, his grip on your hip tightening until you’re sure there’ll be fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. With every thrust he fills you up so completely that every perfect spot inside of you is hit just right, and you never knew it could feel this good.

Every noise of his that tears through the bedroom spurs you on, pushing your hips into his to deepen every thrust. And every time you whine or whimper or cry or anything Harry delivers a harder thrust, fucking you so deep that you can feel it in the pit of your tummy.

“God, p - professor,” you moan, the word falling entirely too naturally off your lips even in your heightened state. Harry throws his head back with a high pitched whine, speeding up his pace until the loudest noise in the room is skin hitting skin. “Holy shit - fuck - I’m gonna - gonna -”

“Gonna cum around my cock, baby?” He hisses, pressing the hand that had once resided on your hip into the mattress, gripping the covers tighter so he can rail his hips into yours desperately. “So fucking tight around me, can’t even fucking stand it -”

Your hand, shaking beyond belief, slides down to rub hard circles into your clit. The sensations on your clit and his cock, rutting against your G spot with every thrust, sends you over the edge again - already so overstimulated from the rather intense orgasm you’d had before - and with a loud cry-bordering-on-scream you’re cumming again.

“Fuck!” you moan, hips bucking up against his as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Fuck, Harry, oh my god -”

He’s not far behind you, hips stuttering ever so slightly but he wants to bring you to one more orgasm, securing this day as the best fuck of your (admittedly limited) sex life and he can’t cum yet. Your hand falls back onto the mattress and Harry pulls his clammy hand from yours, bringing it down to replace your fingers on your clit, and immediately you clench around his cock, begging incoherently for something - you’re not sure what - as he presses down on your clit hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head as his cock twitches inside of you, and grunts and moans are flying from Harry’s mouth faster than he can control it. Your walls flutter around his dick, his thrusts slowing to lazy pumps in and out. He’s so fucking close, he just needs one more push and then -

Your fingers wrap around his wrist and he looks down at you, your eyes nearly black with desire, tears streaking down your cheeks. “C - cum in me, professor.”

It’s the final straw for Harry, and with a nearly animalistic cry he sheathes himself fully inside of you and cums so hard so fast, it’s nearly violent, and the feeling of warmth that explodes in your cunt sends you into your fourth orgasm of the night -

It’s less intense than the others but still entirely too prominent and when you’ve finally rode out the last wave you collapse against the bed, your head spinning and your legs aching as Harry presses it back down from where it had been perched up.

Harry collapses on top of you, his body suffocating and hot and sweaty and you wrap your arms around him, your desperate attempts at steadying your breathing filling the room. You’ve never cum so hard and so much and you’re fucking exhausted, truthfully.

He lifts his head, gazing down at you as you run your fingers through his tangled, sweat soaked curls. “How was that?”

You exhale with a smile upturning your lips, beginning to feel his cum dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs. “Jesus Christ,” you murmur, and a grin breaks onto his face as he drops his forehead against your shoulder.

The two of you lie in silence for a moment - no words need to be spoken. Harry shifts the pair of you further up the bed, your head crashing onto one of his pillows as he remains, firmly on top of you, like he never wants to leave.

But you can’t stop yourself from asking the question burning through your mind, and you swallow thickly before mumbling, “Harry -”

He hums softly.

“Is this like - a one time thing?”

His head lifts again, chin pressed to your shoulder blade, eyebrows furrowed. Harry takes a moment to respond, though, lifting his hand to trace a line across your jawline to your lips, and you press a soft kiss to the tips of his fingers when he arrives at his destination. “I don’t think so,” he tells you, and his voice is quiet and vulnerable, as if waiting for you to deny him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

You smile softly, leaning in to press a kiss against his soft lips. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course, baby.”

The name makes your tummy flutter, and you think you could listen to him call you baby for the rest of your life. “I’ve dreamt of this,” you tell him, lips merely a centimeter from his. “Since the beginning of the semester, every night.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, and you giggle at his expression. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

You shut your eyes, then. Rest your head on his pillow, feeling warm with the man you adore pressed on top of you, his arms firmly and protectively wrapped around you. Nothing has ever felt more right to you, and you drift off to sleep with a soft smile still gracing your lips.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #yall i am rlly proud of this but yes im sorry it took so long to come out #i had so much fun writing it and im so happy w it #please leave feedback!!! id appreciate it so much

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halcyon-writings · 3 years ago

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courage

aoi todo/reader

- the usually confident todo fumbles with his words, and no doubt you’re more confused than anything, he takes a deep breath, before speaking again.

notes/warnings: fluff, mutual pining but in the belief that it’s really one sided, don’t worry it’s mutual, writing that is basically fueled by my want for something that isn’t just pure smut iykyk, although this may be a bit short as i’ve never written for todo before but i just,,, i just care he sm, gn!reader

the kyoto grounds are quiet, crickets chirping as the sun begins to set, classes having ended for the day as the students returned to their respective dorms. todo stuffed his hands in his pockets, not wishing to return just yet (well not like he would be stopped anyway, doing what he wanted and when he wanted).

he looked in the direction of the gates, while as a third year, the rules were more or less lax so if he had wanted too, he could leave and head into the city as he pleased. something mai and momo had taken advantage of whenever they were assigned with him.

something along the lines of “scary dog privilege” was another bonus. or so they said. but then again, since he was such a reliable and strong upperclassmen and peer, he was not surprised in the slightest.

but that wasn’t the main thought he had on his mind anyway. his eyes move towards the school’s gates once more, and he can’t help the feeling of disappointment when he doesn’t see you just yet.

maybe he could just go out for a short walk, maybe pick up some dinner, yeah, that would work just fine-

“Aoi!”

And like clock work, he stands at attention, no longer slouched as he takes his hands out of his pockets.

“That is you!” You laugh slightly, hand raised in the air and waving at him as you make your way up the steps, readjusting the bag on your shoulders

“Welcome back, I knew you’d be fine,” internally, Todo winces, but you only grin back at your peer, looking as assured as ever.

“Of course I’d be, it’s me we’re talking about.”

Todo can’t help the big grin that grows on his face in turn, you always had that self assured air around you, nothing overconfident, but enough that it would even reassure your peers on missions that were more tedious than most.

Your hand clasped his own, a small handshake you two had come up with in your first year at the Kyoto school and one that had only been added to since.

Todo offers an arm, to which you sling over your bag, rolling your arm as you let out a soft sigh when you hear a crack,

“Aoi, I’m hungry, let’s go to dinner after,” You yawn.

That was another thing Todo could not help but respect and admire about you, you were concise and steadfast in your decisions. From something as simple as deciding what you would have for breakfast to your convictions of being a jujutsu sorcerer.

It was just before you enter your dorm room that Todo had stopped you, “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

If you’re surprised at the sudden mood change, Aoi couldn’t tell, your expression remained the same easy going one you had.

the place you had decided on was a small hole in the wall shop, not too crowded despite the city and the tourists, but enough to leave you with a satisfied appetite.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” you ask with a tilt of your head, placing your chopsticks on top of your empty bowl.

your classmate wipes his mouth with a napkin, before turning to face you. for some reason, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. todo, much like yourself, had a knack for speaking his mind whenever he wanted. so seeing him struggle to even begin made you wonder.

he inhales, and then exhales.

“let’s do this again.” he says. and at your blank look, he rubs a hand against his temple.

“do what...?” the small blossom of hope you had begun to push down slowly began to bloom, if the “this” being the casual hangouts (and occasional naps) were something he had wanted more of.

he laughs, but it’s not mocking, rather, it’s joyful, “I feel like my words are failing me right now,”

they kind of are, you wish to say, but you also didn’t want to interrupt him.

the usually confident todo fumbles with his words, and no doubt you’re more confused than anything, he takes a deep breath, before speaking again.

your next words blurt out of your mouth before you can really think about stopping yourself.

“Like a date?”

Todo looks at you with a funny look, before his expression softens, and you feel all fuzzy inside at being on the receiving end of such tenderness.

“Yes. Like a date.”

it’s quiet for a moment, before you stand, pushing your chair in, before looping his arm with your own, “it’s a date, aoi, but you better not leave me waiting if you have any meet and greets to go to though otherwise you’re paying for everything.” And for extra emphasis you look up, peering at him with a huff.

Todo laughs but follows you obediently as you pay the bill and lead him into the city to head into your usual hang out spots.

#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo imagines #aoi todo imagine #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi imagines #todo aoi imagine #mine

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ratmonky · 4 years ago

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Dividing a Plaything

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: dub-con, cheating, gaslighting, manipulation, dacryphilia, unhealthy relationships

AO3 Link

A gift to my two lovely friends, @bacterialheaven & @anti-interesting

With the holidays coming up, the train station was more crowded than it usually was. You didn’t mind hearing the loud and continuous chatter of the people around you, it made you feel less lonely and more included as you waited for the arrival of the train your boyfriend’s brother had taken.

Your boyfriend, Todo had invited his brother over to his place for a simple dinner where the two of you would be meeting for the first time. You couldn’t hide your excitement because Todo spoke highly of his brother, telling you how they spent years of their life and endured so many hardships together.

Todo had been having a rough time at work and seeing a familiar face could cheer him up. He didn’t have anyone other than you and his brother after all. He needed to be with people he treasured.

You had only recently moved in with him after a year of dating because his line of work prevented him from visiting you. Although you were fine with seeing him once in a while whenever he wasn’t busy, he wanted to spend every second of his life with you.

He had convinced you rather easily, telling you about how a woman your age shouldn’t live alone in the city. He told you how your life would be easier if the two of you lived together, shared a bed together, enjoyed meals together, bathed together, and of course, paid the bills together.

In the end, he was right, life was easier when you were together. You liked how much you could trust him and how protective he was when it came to you. When the two of you first met, it had been at a rescheduled Takada-chan concert when the previous one was canceled due to heavy rain. You had gone to the show after winning a ticket in a giveaway and halfway through the concert found yourself being harassed by some creep.

It was then, you heard a clap that was louder than any other clap at the concert and found yourself on the other side of the show. Dumbfounded, your eyes had scouted the entire room to see a muscular-built guy drag the creep who had been harassing you out.

You followed them out, thank this mysterious guy, and asked him if you could show your gratitude by buying him some Takada-chan merchandise.

The rest? History.

“Tokyo Train C arriving at Kyoto B.”

Quickly getting up from your seat, you headed towards the gate Todo’s brother would be arriving from.

You didn’t know what Yuuji looked like but Todo had told you that his brother knew exactly what you looked like from the pictures he would send him. Somehow, you could guess Yuuji’s appearance. Since he was Todo’s younger brother, he probably looked like a copy of him, perhaps shorter and had a smaller build and-

“Ah.” Some pink-haired guy stood in front of you. “You’re Todo’s girlfriend, right?”

There was a moment of silence as you stared up and down at him. “Yuuji Todo?”

He looked nothing like your Todo.

“Nuh-uh,” he chuckled. “It’s Yuuji Itadori.”

Again, silence.

“You’re not his brother?” you hesitantly asked.

“No,” he said, looking at you with the same confused expression that was plastered on your face. “Did he tell you I was his brother?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, shaking your head slightly with a blush. “I’m sorry about the-”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s like a brother to me anyway. He introduces me as his brother to everyone.” Yuuji offered you a gorgeous smile before reaching his hand out to you. “Let’s take it from the beginning.”

You took his hand and mirrored his smile. “I’m (name), Aoi’s girlfriend.”

“Yuuji Itadori, Todo’s brother.” A chuckle.

The two of you shared a laugh and continued shaking hands but it didn’t feel awkward. His grip on your hand was gentle and soft, you didn’t even notice his thumb caressing your skin.

“I hope you’re hungry,” you said, finally retrieving your hand and turning around on your heels to lead the way.

“You can’t imagine, I’m so tired too.” Yuuji stretched his arms over his head as he matched your steps.

Only then you noticed the huge backpack he had with him. Todo had told you that Yuuji was only coming over for dinner and hopefully that was true. Nevertheless, you regretted not cleaning the place more thoroughly.

~~~

As soon as you opened the door to your apartment and stepped inside, Todo appeared out of nowhere to greet you. A quick kiss on your forehead and then walking past you, he grabbed Yuuji’s hand with a loud clap. The two of them hugged and were busy talking while you made your way to the kitchen to lift the aluminum foil you had put over the dishes to keep them warm.

“Aaah, Fushiguro got a girlfriend? That speechless guy too? I guess it’s only you left now.” Todo was practically yelling when he walked inside the living room. “I heard Mechamaru, no, Kokichi got a girl too.”

“Woah, I wonder how he managed to get a girlfriend.” Yuuji sounded astonished.

“Um, dinner-”

“Probably one of those sorcerer dating websites.” Todo sat on the couch and redirected his attention towards the television.

“Wait, there are websites for that?” Yuuji plopped down onto the couch next to Todo, ignoring you as well. “Is that how you met, (name)?”

“Aoi?” Your meek voice went unheard.

“No, we met at a Takada-chan concert.”

“Takada-chan has fangirls too?” Yuuji snorted, “I didn’t know.”

“(name) had won a ticket through a giveaway, she wasn’t exactly a fan but she joins me whenever I go to Takada-chan’s shows or meet and greets.” Todo smiled to himself, he was such a lucky guy to have an amenable girlfriend like you.

“Does she even like Takada-chan?”

“Not one bit,” Todo replied. “But she likes me.”

Indeed you liked him, he was your hero after all. He had saved you from a creep and as your first-ever boyfriend, Todo was perfect.

He bought you clothes he knew you would like because he had seen Takada-chan wearing them in his favorite photoshoots and he took you everywhere with him. At Takada-chan concerts he kept you close, close enough to be able to hump you while watching Takada-chan and hide it from anyone else’s view.

You were happy to be with him and give him the affection he needed. Although at times he could make you flustered with the way he groped you in public when other guys looked at you, you knew it was just because he loved you so much. He simply couldn’t keep his hands to himself and he was possessive. That was all.

“Aoi.” You tried calling out to him again to no avail. You knew they weren’t going to hear your voice so you walked around the counter and into the living room. Putting your hand on Todo’s shoulder you cut his sentence midway through.

“Yes?” he asked, turning to look at you with a warm smile that never failed to make you flustered.

“D-dinner.”

The two of them had forgotten all about dinner but with your reminder, they got up from the couch to follow you into the kitchen.

Dinner was more than the same, Todo and Yuuji chatted while you listened.

“So what grade sorcerer are you, (name)?” Yuuji asked, reaching for a glass of water.

Both you and Todo looked at each other and laughed. “I’m not a sorcerer,” you said. “I’m just a civilian.”

“She can see curses though,” Todo elaborated.

“I thought you told him about this since you said you talk about me with him all the time.” You were giggling as you took a napkin to pat on your mouth.

“We never had the chance.” Todo put down his cutlery and grabbed his plate before leaving the table to get seconds.

“Yeah.”

“Then what sorta stuff did you guys talk about me?” you asked, still a joyful smile plastered on your lips.

The other two, on the other hand, stopped smiling. They looked at each other and Todo was the one to give you an answer.

“Just about how much I love you.” He was back on his seat and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

You blushed faintly, “You’re lying~”

The mood between the two guys changed after that.

After dinner, while you were rolling up the sleeves of your shirt to do the dishes, Yuuji offered to help. You rinsed the dishes and he placed them in the dishwasher until only the large bowls were left. You were planning to wash them by hand since they wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher.

“How did you and Aoi become such good friends?” you asked while he closed the dishwasher.

“We bonded over our love for the same type of women.” Leaning back on the counter, Yuuji watched you wash the rest of the dishes by hand.

“So, Takada-chan?” you chuckled.

“I wouldn’t say her specifically.” He was about to say something else when Todo draped an arm over his shoulder.

“Yuuji and I have the same taste in women.” Todo grinned, his eyes went in between you and Yuuji a couple of times before he said something that made both of you blush. “That’s why he’s probably attracted to you.”

“Aoi!”

“Todo!”

Both of you yelled at Todo in unison and your boyfriend pouted, raising a brow slowly. “I was just saying!”

Rolling your eyes, you returned your attention to washing the rest of the dishes.

“Oh, Yuuji is staying over so I came here to ask about the clean sheets, where did you put them?” Todo asked the thing you knew he would. You kind of wished he had told you Yuuji would be staying over the night a couple of days ago, the whole apartment was dirty.

“They’re inside the vacuum sealer bags under the bed,” you replied and quickly added. “Uhh, take the green ones though! The white ones are too thick for this time of the year.”

“Yeah, I figured!” Todo left Yuuji’s side and walked past you with a quick pat on your back, thanking you for the dinner.

“I’m sorry for crashing here,” Yuuji said suddenly.

You shook your head softly, “It’s not my house, and don’t apologize please, it makes me happy to see Aoi happy. He doesn’t have many friends.”

“He doesn’t?”

“I’ve been to his class reunions and his classmates weren’t quite fond of him.” You frowned at the thought of the unpleasant memories of Todo’s classmates treating him like he wasn’t there.

Yuuji hummed in thought, “I’d say they’re hard to get along with, they don’t like me either. Todo and I didn’t get along at first either, you can’t make friends with him unless you actually try to make friends with him.”

At that moment, you understood why Todo called Yuuji his brother. Their bond was stronger than blood.

Finally done with the dishes, you patted your hands dry and turned to face Yuuji completely.

“What’s Aoi’s type of woman?” You were hesitant about asking this, perhaps the description was the complete opposite of you. “What kind of woman does he like?”

“Tall women with big ass,” Yuuji didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Oh,” you forced out a chuckle. “I don’t think I exactly fit the description.”

“Maybe,” he said but then offered you a gentle smile. “But having a type doesn’t mean he’d only be attracted to those kinda women. I mean, you’re pretty and I’m sure you’re more than his type. I’d call you his perfect match, not many people can tolerate him you know.”

You were about to thank him for trying to consult you but Todo appeared between the two of you after a loud clap.

“Brother,” Todo sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s the one for me.”

Blushing at the way your boyfriend emphasized the words, you jokingly hit him on the chest. “You’re too much.”

“Shall we go to the living room?” Todo suggested as he grabbed beers from the fridge. “It’s way too cramped in here.”

Nodding, Yuuji followed after Todo and walked past you but not without pressing himself against you. It could have been an accident but the pause was too long, his hand as he walked past you caressed your waist and back as well.

No, you were overreacting. You didn’t want to upset Todo. You were definitely overthinking this.

In the living room, the two of them were talking when you sat beside Todo. You tried joining their conversation whenever you managed to follow the topic but most of the time you were sitting quietly, leaning against your boyfriend while sipping on a beer.

It wasn’t long until you got a little too bored and excused yourself to bed.

After you left, silence fell in the living room for half an hour or longer. At least it was long enough for them to be sure you weren’t awake.

“She’s prettier than the pictures,” Yuuji said, chugging the last bit of his beer. “She’s also cuter than you described her to be.”

“You should see her when she’s talking about stuff she likes, she gets all excited and it’s adorable.” Todo reached for the remote control and turned the volume up enough to suppress their voices.

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.” Yuuji put his empty beer bottle on the table.

Todo grabbed both of their beer bottles and went to the kitchen to get more beer. “So, what do you think, brother?” he asked after plopping down on the couch next to him.

Yuuji took the beer he was holding out to him and nodded languidly as if trying to consider his words. “She’s… she’s really my type.”

Todo clinked his beer bottle with his best friend’s and chuckled softly, “I told you we had the same taste in women.”

~~~

In the morning, you woke up earlier than your boyfriend and spent a longer time than usual trying to escape from his strong embrace. Eventually, you slipped out of his arms. Although if it was any other day, you would enjoy cuddling with him until it was all toasty in bed, you had a guest in your home.

Changing your clothes, you opened the door of your room as quietly as you could to make your way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You tried peeking into the living room to see if Yuuji was still sleeping but the delicious smell of coffee gave you the answer.

You walked into the kitchen to find Yuuji cooking breakfast. He didn’t notice your presence continued rolling the omelet to make it thicker.

“G-good morning,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Yuuji whipped his head around and flashed you a gorgeous smile. “Good morning! Sorry, if I woke you up.”

“N-no.” You blushed faintly at the intensity of his stare. “I woke up myself.”

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen. Todo said it was fine but-”

“I don’t mind it!” you said hurriedly, “I don’t wake up to prepared breakfast that often so I can’t complain.”

He returned his attention to the thick omelet and nodded. “Hopefully, my cooking will be to your liking then.”

“I’m sure it is!” You put your hands on the counter and jumped at the same time as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the counter. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.”

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you after that. You quietly watched him cook, the way his biceps would tighten each time he shook the pan to fold the omelet and his focused eyes were hypnotizing.

He was glancing at you at times when he did something impressive, smiling. You found it a little weird but didn’t say anything regarding his behavior.

“Good morning!”

Todo entered the kitchen, yawning and with messy hair.

Both of you said it back.

He gave you a peck on the lips before grabbing a coffee mug. “What should we do tonight?”

You gave yourself a moment to think. Perhaps you could eat takeout today, it had been a while since you had a lazy night with Todo. Or perhaps drink wine and get in the tub together. You opened your mouth to give your answer but Yuuji spoke instead of you.

“I was thinking of eating beef and watching tonight’s football match.”

Todo smiled, humming happily as he took a sip from his coffee. “Sounds great.” Noticing your stare, he raised a brow. “You don’t want beef?”

You shook your head, not wanting to say anything while Yuuji was there but as expected of your considerate boyfriend, he leaned forward so you could whisper in his ear.

Hesitantly you spoke. “I thought Itadori was only staying the night.”

“Oh, no. Brother is staying over for the whole week. We’re gonna investigate a curse together.”

Your eyes widened, he hadn’t mentioned anything about this to you. However, you could never say anything against it.

~~~

“This one’s my favorite,” Todo said, showing a picture of you to Yuuji. “She’s wearing Takada-chan’s limited edition dress here.”

“Yeah, you sent this to me a long time ago.” In the picture, you were hiking the skirt of the dress up to reveal your bare thighs and pussy with a blushed face.

“Did I?” Todo stared at his phone and smiled at the picture dreamily. “I send so many pictures of her to you that I sometimes forget which ones I haven’t sent yet.”

“Well, I don’t mind receiving them twice.” Yuuji took out his phone to check his own photo gallery. He scrolled down to the album folders and opened the hidden file. He was greeted by a ton of pictures of you, mostly taken by yourself. Each one of them you were awkwardly posing to show off your naked body. In some pictures you had lingerie but those weren’t quite his favorite.

“Look.” Todo pointed at his own phone. On the screen, there was another picture of you. In the picture, you were on top of your boyfriend, it was possibly taken mid-sex. Your bare chest was illuminated by the flash of the camera and your eyes were closed as you were balancing yourself on your hands that were resting on Todo’s stomach, you looked lost in pleasure.

“I don’t have that one.” Yuuji immediately could tell he hadn’t gotten this specific picture.

“Ah, I’ll send it to you.”

~~~

“She likes it when you…”

~~~

“Oh, her weak point is…”

~~~

“You know,” Todo started, wrapping his arms around you once you changed out of your work clothes and into a Takada-chan merch shirt. “I think Yuuji likes you.”

The guy mentioned was running a last-minute errand downtown, the two of you were alone in your room.

You let out an awkward laugh and leaned back on his chest. “Well, I like him too since he’s your closest friend.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the skin.

“W-what?” You turned your head away from his lips but he leaned down to kiss your neck, not letting you escape.

“I told you we have the same taste in women. He definitely is attracted to you, I can tell.” He pressed his lips on your pulse point, giving you enticing kisses.

You couldn’t hear his words, too focused on his lips instead.

Smiling into your skin, Todo slid his hands up your sides to cup your tits over your shirt. He gave them an encouraging squeeze and you immediately arched into his touch, pressing your ass onto him. “I think you’re attracted to him too, hmm?”

You didn’t answer.

“(name),” he uttered oh so softly before lolling his tongue out of his mouth to drag the wet muscle up from your neck to your jaw. He pressed his lips on the shell of your ear, his hot breath hitting on your skin. “You like Yuuji.”

“Yes.” You could feel him grow larger behind you, he was in the mood.

When you finally gave him the response he had been waiting for, Todo lifted you up to carry you towards the end of the bed.

A moan escaped your lips when he pushed you face down onto the mattress and pulled your shorts down along with your panties.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He pushed two fingers inside of you, with how wet you were, his thick digits easily went inside. Twirling them around, he smiled to himself as he pulled them back to thrust inside softly, dragging the pads on his fingers in a specific way to drive you crazy.

Clutching on the bedsheets, you lifted your ass up, begging for more. “Aoi…”

“What is it?” He could tease you all day.

Wiggling your hips, you groaned in frustration while he continued moving his fingers agonizingly slowly inside your wet pussy.

“Use your words.”

You flushed, “I want you.”

“You want what?” He added another finger to the mix, thrusting inside sluggishly despite how wildly your walls were pulsating around his digits. It took him a great among of self-restraint to not pounce on you right now, fucking you frenziedly to feel your insides throb like that around him.

“I want your…” Ah, so embarrassing. “I want your dick.”

Luckily, Todo was more than willing to provide.

He pulled down the front of his pants with one hand while continuing to move his fingers. When he finally pulled out his fingers and pressed the tip of his cock on your entrance you were mewling him to hurry up.

Snapping his hips forward, Todo gave you what you wanted. He was only halfway inside but you were already screaming into the mattress. You could never get used to his size. He was too big for you.

Todo proceeded to push his hips forward slowly until his entire length was inside your pussy. He stilled momentarily to let you get used to his size as usual before tentatively pulling his hips back to surge them forward in a sudden motion.

You moaned audibly, clutching the bedsheets tighter.

He pulled back and thrust in your pussy with a loud clap continuously, the pace didn’t falter once but it was the force of his thrusts that made your eyes tear up and punched the air out of your lungs.

Todo grabbed you by your hips to pull you towards his hips at the same time he was snapping them forward. Moaning at the sounds of your skins clapping on each other, he put his foot on the bed to put more strength behind his thrusts.

His balls were slapping against your skin harshly and he could go a lot deeper in this position. It wasn’t long until his cock throbbed because of your gummy walls clenching around him.

Pulling out of you, Todo flipped you over and held his cock over your face. “Open your mouth.”

Obediently you lifted yourself up from the bed using your elbows to take the tip of his cock inside your mouth.

Todo’s hand around his cock moved faster than your eyes could follow and when his cock started twitching he groaned softly. Soon after you felt him releasing his seed into your mouth.

You swallowed his cum and gently licked the tip to clean it.

“Can’t you try sucking it for once?” he asked sheepishly, eyes hazy with lust as he was looking down at you.

“It’s too big.” Was your reply. It was mostly, you weren’t confident enough to take his cock in your mouth but it wasn’t impossible.

“Won’t you try it?” He placed his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing the skin.

How could you say no to that…

You were about to get in a comfortable position when the doorbell chimed, making both of you jolt.

Yuuji was back.

“Brother,” he sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly, “Why did you have to arrive just as things were getting good?”

“We’ll do it once he leaves Kyoto,” you said, smiling. “I promise.”

Todo smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss you. “You better keep your promise.”

The moment he kissed you, the doorbell chimed once again but this time repeatedly. Giving you a small peck on your lips, Todo tucked himself back in his pants as he walked out of the bedroom to open the door for Yuuji.

You joined them only after you managed to catch your breath.

The dinner was uneventful, the boys cooked the beef and you made some garnish.

After dinner, you prepared some snacks for them to watch during the football match and although you were planning to go take a bath to leave them alone, Todo insisted that you stayed.

That was how you ended up on the couch, staring at the television with a blank expression. You didn’t understand much from the football match they were watching but it didn’t stop you from settling to Todo’s side with his arm over your shoulder.

Feeling his warmth was enough to lull you to sleep if it wasn’t for the narrator’s mundane voices or Yuuji’s excited voice explaining Todo about the opposite team’s players and some other stuff you couldn’t keep up. As your eyelids got heavier and it was impossible to keep them open anymore, you felt your boyfriend’s hand going inside the front of your shirt to cup your tit.

Your eyes immediately snapped open as you jolted awake, eyes wide and in panic.

Todo glanced down at you momentarily with a smirk before returning his attention to Yuuji who was still busy explaining to him about one of the goalkeepers. You gasped and wanted to tell him that his friend was going to see what he was doing but he shut you up once he gave your tit a generous squeeze.

Flushing, you covered your face with a hand, hoping that the guy next to your boyfriend wouldn’t see you like this.

“I’m gonna grab another beer,” Yuuji said, getting up from the couch. “You guys want anything-” His eyes landed on your blushing face and then to the large hand that was groping your tit under the shirt. His own cheeks flushed slightly as he averted his gaze.

“I don’t need anything,” Todo said, the smile in his voice was noticeable. “Do you want anything, (name)?”

You shook your head slowly, you were getting dizzy from embarrassment and also from excitement of being seen like this by Yuuji.

Yuuji nodded and went to the kitchen to grab a beer for himself. When he came back he continued his explanation about the opposite team to Todo, ignoring your mewls and gasps whenever your boyfriend rolled your nipple between his knuckles or pinched them.

Todo pulled his hand away only after the football match had ended, by that time you were a total mess.

“We should go to bed,” Todo said, lifting you up. “(name) doesn’t feel well.”

Yuuji didn’t comment on anything as Todo carried you back to your room, wishing his friend goodnight.

In the bedroom, Todo didn’t waste any seconds to strip you out of your clothes, the excitement of knowing that his friend could be jerking off in the living room was enough to make him cum in his pants but he held back.

“You’re the worst,” you whimpered but it broke into a moan when he took your sensitive nipple in his mouth. Wrapping your arms around his head, you pulled him towards yourself, wanting more. “I hate you.”

He bit your nipple, making you writhe in pain. “Do you mean that?” he asked as he pulled himself away from you.

“Nooo~” you whined. “I love you.”

“You must love Yuuji too,” he said, pushing his fingers inside your pussy. “You’ve gotten so wet. It was because he was watching, right?”

“I don’t know.” You wanted to deny it but he was telling the truth, he had to be. Todo knew you the best, better than you knew yourself. “M-maybe.”

The strings that were holding Todo back snapped one by one. "You were being so loud, you might as well have just gotten on your knees and begged for his attention. You should've moaned his name and begged him to fuck you like a whore on that couch."

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” He pulled his pants down and flipped you over to your stomach to shove his entire length inside you impatiently. “Be more honest, will you?”

You shamelessly moaned out loud, arching your back.

“You want Yuuji to fuck you like this, don’t you?” He snapped his hips forward punching the air out of your lungs.

This time without any hesitation. “Yes!”

~~~

“Why don’t you fuck her already?” Sukuna scoffed. “She was sitting there like a bitch in heat, begging to be fucked.”

“Stop talking vulgarly about her like that,” Yuuji pulled his pants down, ignoring Sukuna and focusing on your loud moans instead.

“You should be a man and show her that you want her.” Sukuna wouldn’t shut up though.

Yuuji spat in his palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, “Be quiet, will you?”

“You want her to be yours right?”

It became silent for a moment. The only sounds were your moans mixed up with skin clapping on skin coming from the other room.

“If you don’t act dominant, you’ll never get to have a woman for yourself. Do you always wanna have someone else’s seconds?”

Satisfied the way he got to him, Sukuna disappeared from Yuuji’s cheek, leaving the latter all alone with his thoughts.

Todo was coming home late today. Meaning that you were alone with Yuuji for the time being.

You were cooking dinner for the two of you while he was in the living room watching television

Since this morning, you had been unable to look him in the eye. Things that happened yesterday wouldn’t leave your mind for a mere moment, you were embarrassed and ashamed but Yuuji seemed indifferent.

Perhaps these sorts of stuff were normal between guy friends. You didn’t know. Todo was your first boyfriend ever and this was the first time you were meeting one of his closest friends.

It could be.

“Do you need help with anything?”

You jolted in surprise and glanced over your shoulder towards him. “Um, no but thank you!”

“Hmm, okay.” Yuuji leaned back on the counter, watching you intently instead of going back to the living room.

Although you returned your attention to the food you were cooking, you could sense his stare on your body. His stare was intense, whether it was your sixth sense or not, you could tell exactly where he might be looking at your body from the way your muscles stiffened.

You didn’t want to say anything, freaking out that it might upset Todo if you confronted Yuuji. What if you became that ‘crazy girlfriend’ for Todo and he broke up with you just because you were acting like a prude?

Ignore his staring. That was all you had to do. As long as you kept your distance, you would be fine.

Argh! Last night was too much, you were going insane. This was all Todo’s fault and-

“You’re wearing something that’s similar to Takada-chan’s outfit right?” he suddenly asked.

“Y-yeah.” Oh, as always you were being paranoid for nothing. He was just staring at your dress. “Todo likes it when I wear them because-”

“And he probably only fucks you from behind.”

You dropped the spoon you were holding but Yuuji continued.

“Bull’s eye, huh?” He had a blank expression on his face. “He’s probably imagining Takada-chan since from the back he can’t see your face. Only the flashy pink and red clothes. And I can bet he makes you do your hair like hers too, I guess it looks good from the back as well.”

Dead silence filled the kitchen, you didn’t dare to lean down to pick up the spoon or turn off the stoves.

“But I guess you know about all that,” Yuuji sighed, taking a step forward towards you. “You want him to love you no matter what. Even if it means he’ll fantasize about some idol.” He took another step, you mirrored his movements and took a step back. “You’re pathetically in love with him.”

“Stop,” you pleaded, covering your ears like a kid. “Stop it!”

Yuuji turned off the stoves and gently grabbed your wrists to pull them down. “It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “Loving someone to the point you devote your entire presence to them, it’s admirable.” His eyes had this gentle look in them and you could feel the empathy through them. He had been in this position before. He knew your pain. “You love him even though he uses you for his own fantasies but Todo loves you too. I know he does because I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

Fall for it.

Your eyes teared up, lower lip trembling. “I can’t… We can’t-”

Fall for the bait.

“Todo and I have the same taste in women. He wants us to get along.”

“This isn’t how two friends get along…”

Yuuji pulled you closer to himself looking deep into your eyes. “Todo told me it was okay. He said he wanted to share you with me. He wants someone to love you as much as you love him, so won’t you let me?”

You were trembling in front of him, your glossy eyes and pouting lips were too much for him.

“Itadori-”

“Yuuji,” he said, lifting his hand to caress your cheek hesitantly. “Call me Yuuji.”

“Y-Yuuji.” You tested out his name, smiling sheepishly when he pressed his forehead against yours.

“(name),” he whispered, impatient of all this waiting because he had been yearning to have you for himself for so long. So long. “Won’t you let me kiss you already? I won’t think about anyone else, I will kiss you .”

You couldn’t say anything, your hands went to clutch on his shirt and you nodded falteringly.

He leaned down, closing the distance between your faces until his lips met yours. There were butterflies in your stomach, your heart fluttered in joy, and for the first time ever, even though he had closed his eyes, you knew Yuuji wasn’t thinking of someone else while kissing you.

His lips moved against yours experimentally, testing the waters to see what you liked. He caressed your cheek using one hand and used his other hand to press on the small of your back to bring you closer to him.

You moaned into the kiss and parted your lips.

Just as Todo said you would.

Yuuji was hungrily kissing you, pushing his tongue into your mouth to twirl it around yours and savor your taste. He softly caressed your cheek with his thumb as he moaned encouragingly to get you to kiss him back with the same enthusiasm.

However, you were too timid, barely moving your lips or kissing him back. He slid his hand from the small of your back to under the skirt of your dress to grope the supple flesh of your ass hard enough to make you moan into the kiss again.

This time you opened your mouth fully, shyly letting your tongue move with his as your grip on his shirt tightened.

Smiling into the kiss, Yuuji lifted you up with the same hand that was groping your ass and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the living room.

The way he was holding you so tightly even when he sat on the couch with you on his lap, it was all so tender. He was holding you like you meant the world to him, fragile yet passionate.

Yuuji was feeling this way about you. Only you. Nobody else.

Your heart fluttered but your chest clenched as you hungrily kissed him back. You tasted your tears in the kiss, how pathetic. All that just from him telling you he loved you? Pathetic. Pathetic. You were so pathetic. You wondered if he found how desperately you wanted to feel loved pathetic too.

He didn’t seem to overthink like you, his hands were on your hips, pressing you against his growing bulge and kissing you with the same eagerness you kissed Todo with.

Todo.

Something within your mind revived itself, you pulled back from the kiss while more tears spilled down to your cheeks. Your hands were on his chest as you pushed yourself away from him. “No, I can’t do this. I love Todo.”

Todo?

Wasn’t he Aoi to you?

“Todo said you loved me too.” One of his hands went under your skirt and he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt. You had completely soaked your panties and were still trying to deny the fact that you didn’t want this.

Adorable.

You whimpered when he drew a tight circle over your clothed nub. “Yuuji, please.”

“Please what?” he raised a brow, face inanimate. “Do you really want me to stop? It’s just the two of us in here, you can be honest with me.”

A blush colored your cheeks and you looked away from him instead of giving him an answer.

He took it as a yes.

Pulling your panties to the side, he let two of his digits slide inside your slick heat. Moaning at the sensation, you covered your mouth in shame, eyes finally returning to Yuuji.

He flashed you a stunning smile. “You’re gorgeous.”

You covered your face with a hand, embarrassed out of your mind as he curled his fingers inside of you, rubbing the pad of his fingers on a sensitive spot he knew about. Your hips bucked against his hand and you whined in surprise.

Only Todo could make you feel this good. Right?

What if you stopped loving Todo because Yuuji made you feel good like him?

An enormous wave of panic washed over you.

“I-I-I changed my mind.”

“Did you?” Yuuji abruptly used the strength of his entire arm to finger fuck you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, both hands pressing on Yuuji’s shoulders to balance yourself as he was messing you up. “Yuuji, no!”

It was too late, you could feel the incoming wave of pleasure, your pussy was sucking his fingers deeper inside and clenching around them greedily. You were begging for something bigger and thicker.

Yuuji continued thrusting his fingers inside your cunt and started rubbing his palm against your clit for extra friction for you.

You were getting closer, the overwhelming wave of pleasure was growing bigger, threatening to leave you trembling and whimpering once he was done with you.

Then the familiar sound of a door being unlocked echoed inside the apartment.

The feeling of shame and guilt returned but you didn’t get to push yourself away from Yuuji.

“Stop,” you begged in tears, whimpering. However, your whimper soon turned into a shameless moan when you felt a tongue take a skillful lick against your folds before taking your clit in its mouth.

You looked down at Yuuji and he looked right back at you.

Your eyes landed on the hand that was fucking you. There was something, lapping at your cunt. It was a tongue. You could feel it zealously licking you.

Yuuji didn’t look aware of anything, his fingers moved all the same but what made you break down and lose the strength of your legs was the mouth embedded on his palm.

You met eyes with Todo who had just walked into the living room as your entire body shook uncontrollably and the heavenly euphoric feeling took over your senses. It was impossible to tear your eyes away from him, the sense of guilt was forgotten, you were pretending it was Todo who made you cum, not Yuuji or that thing in his hand.

Yuuji pulled his hand back and you actually caught a glimpse of a grinning mouth slowly disappearing into his skin.

No this wasn’t the time. Todo had… he had seen you like this. He was going to misunderstand.

“Aoi,” you whispered, trying to regain your strength to stand up on your legs. “Aoi, this is-” You nearly fell off from the couch but Yuuji caught you. In tears, you pushed him away and stood up, walking over to your boyfriend. “Aoi, I’m sorry he… he was the one-”

"I knew you liked Yuuji, but I didn't think you'd be this needy for him…” Todo slapped a hand on his face and dragged it down slowly, hiding his grin but keeping a serious expression. “What kind of girl are you really? You came on his fingers as soon as I walked in. Do you like being watched, is that it? Do you like messing with guys who aren't your boyfriend?”

“No!” you sobbed, hands desperately reaching out to hold his hand. “I love you, I only love you. H-he tried to use my love for you against me… It wasn’t my fault, I swear… Aoi, please, it wasn’t me. He kissed me first.”

“It wasn’t you?” Todo raised a brow, pulling his hand away. “Are you going to accuse my brother like that when you told me you loved him? DIdn’t you say you wanted to be fucked by him? You know me and Yuuji have the same type yet you still teased him with the clothes you wear around the apartment, and you let yourself get fondled in front of him mewling like a helpless kitten. What was he supposed to think?”

“I-I only love you, I swear!” You gripped onto his shirt. “Aoi, please, please, please!”

“You know our walls are thin but you still moaned and screamed all night knowing Yuuji was in the room next door." Todo’s brows furrowed, he pointed a finger at your face. "Wasn’t this what you wanted? You said you loved Yuuji, you said you wanted to be fucked by Yuuji and now you're mad because what? He kissed you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Your face was stained with tears, crying helplessly, begging for forgiveness from your boyfriend.

“Don’t apologize to me,” Todo sighed. “You need to apologize to my best friend and find a way to make it up to him."

“It’s alright, Todo,” Yuuji said, appearing behind you. “She’s right, I went overboard. Maybe I should leave and stay at a hotel for the rest of the week. I don’t wanna be a burden or cause any problems between the two of you.”

If he left now, Todo was going to hate you. He was going to break up with you for accusing his best friend- weren’t you telling the truth- no! You were accusing him.

“No, please, Yuuji.” You turned your head towards him, begging him with teary eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, please, it was all my fault. Please, I’m sorry.” Hysterically crying, you buried your face to Todo’s chest. “Please, please forgive me. Please!”

The two guys nodded at the same time and almost laughed at how your voice was breaking. Almost.

Todo put a hand on the back of your dress and pulled you away from him by gripping the fabric. “Well, I'm glad you could cry out somewhat of an apology but I told you to find a way to make it up to him."

"How am I supposed to-"

Todo abruptly leaned down, staring at you with an intimidatingly blank look on his face. “How would Takada-chan apologize?”

Your shoulders stiffened, your limbs turned to stone but you still were able to shake your head hesitantly.

“What?” Todo’s face had gotten closer. “You’re not sorry, Takada-chan? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Stop it,” you whimpered, fresh tears forming in your eyes. “I’m not Takada-chan.”

“Hey,” Yuuji said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She said she’s sorry, I’m not hurt or anything. Don’t make her cry like that. I went overboard, I thought she liked me like you said so I should be the one to apologize.”

Todo’s features softened and he shook his head slightly as he turned to face his friend, “Ahh, I’m sorry too. It’s just that… I was sure you two would get along but she went and blew it up.”

“I’ll get along with him,” you promised, wiping your tears, smiling in despair. “Please, Aoi. I’ll even love Yuuji as much as I love you. Please. Just don’t… please don’t leave me.”

Todo let out an audible sigh, he looked distraught, shoulders shaking from what you thought was sadness but he was simply trying to hold back his laughter. “Prove it to me.”

You lifted your head, eyes wide. “Prove what? I’ll do anything you ask me to do-”

Cutting your sentence short, Todo reached out his hand to you and his other hand to his friend. Without hesitation, you put your hand in his and Yuuji did the same. Slowly, Todo brought his hands together and made the two of you hold hands. “Prove that you love Yuuji."

“I can’t let him have my body,” you said, voice breaking after getting an image of what he was implying. “My heart and body belong to you.”

“What about your mouth? My best friend likes the same things I like... and you can't make the same excuses with him that you do with me.”

Oh.

He perhaps knew the reason why you didn’t want to suck him off.

You were terrified of him looking at you, scared that he would dump you if he fucked you even once while looking at you. Although you wanted him to have eyes only for you, it wasn’t possible when his heart didn’t belong to you.

Maybe, only maybe… If both of you started being more honest with each other, you could be the person in his heart, sharing it with Yuuji rather than his favorite idol.

Todo placed a hand on your back and pushed you forward towards your bedroom. You knew what to do.

The walk to your room was awkward and silent. Yuuji’s hand was sweaty and calloused as you dragged him to the bedroom but your trembling hand fit perfectly in his hand. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

Todo followed you inside the bedroom, watched the two of you climb on the bed. You reached to the front of Yuuji’s sweats, pulling them down by hooking your fingers under the waistband.

You were so focused on your task that you hadn’t realized how badly you were shaking.

“(name),” Yuuji said softly, putting his hand over yours. “Do you remember what I said to you?”

You stared up at him for an answer.

“Todo wants someone to love you as much as you love him. Will you let me do that?” Despite your previous hysterical crying, you managed to blush at his words, the pressure on your shoulders disappeared and you got lost within his kind smile that was directed at you.

Nodding, you got on all fours while Yuuji leaned back on the mattress as you hooked a finger underneath the waistband of his boxers to peel them off to release his aching cock. Once his cock bounced free, you were distantly aware of the mattress dipping behind you.

It was Todo. After settling behind you, he hiked your skirt up and pulled your panties down.

“Focus on me,” a voice said, his warm hand lovingly caressed your cheek.

You looked at Yuuji through your clumped lashes, he was pumping his cock sluggishly while looking at you intently. All of his attention was on you, he wasn’t looking through you like Todo. He was looking at you. Only you.

In response, you leaned further down to take the tip of his cock in your mouth. He retrieved his hand from his cock and you wrapped your own hand around the base, moving it along the length with a nice firm pressure.

Bobbing your head, you took more than half of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you moved up and closer towards the pink tip.

“That feels good,” Yuuji groaned softly, he put a hand on the top of your head, petting it to praise you. “You’re amazing at this.”

His kind tone encouraged you to bob your head and you tried taking him deeper inside your mouth.

“Ahh, you’re so into this…” Yuuji grew harder inside of your mouth and pulled you towards him by your head, his hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to hit the back of your throat.

Behind you, Todo was dragging the tip of his cock between your folds, he was oddly quiet, possibly still upset but you still arched your back for him. You needed to prove to him how good you could make him feel. Only you could make him feel this good. Nobody else. He needed to know that.

Todo pushed the tip of his cock inside and surged his hips forward until his entire length was inside you with a low groan. You moaned around Yuuji’s cock, the vibrations coming from your throat were enough to make him grab a chunk of your hair to steady himself.

Suddenly Yuuji forced you down onto his cock until your nose was touching his pinkish pubes. With Yuuji being deep down in your throat and Todo’s cock completely stretching you out, you had thought you were being stuffed to your limit. It was all too much. You gagged and planted your hands on Yuuji’s thighs to push yourself away from his cock.

You didn’t get the chance though.

Clap.

Your jaw relaxed and your pussy clenched around nothing for barely a second but then abruptly you felt your jaw forcefully open wider around the cock in your mouth. Tearing up, you gagged roughly. The girth was thicker than before and you barely managed to blink when a large hand landed on top of your head to card his fingers through your hair.

“No teeth,” Todo warned.

Eyes widening, you stared up at your boyfriend through your lashes in panic as a pair of hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Ahh, you’re so tight,” Yuuji groaned, tentatively pulling his hips back to snap them forward.

They had switched places.

You were confused but it didn’t take you long to put the pieces together to realize it was Todo’s whatever sorcery was the cause of this.

Glaring up at Todo, you attempted to move your hips away from Yuuji but they both had you trapped between them.

Without a warning, your boyfriend started bucking his hips up into your mouth. As upset as you were, there was no way you were going to let this one slip. There was no possible way.-

“You look cuter than Takada-chan like this,” Todo whispered with a gentle smile on his lips. He was telling the truth, having your luscious lips wrapped around his cock with your tear-stained face and furrowed brows that were looking at him with anger… it was purely erotic. “Can you keep your promise for me?”

Your heart fluttered with joy, anger past forgotten, you bobbed your head. Todo hissed through his teeth, letting you move however you pleased.

Yuuji on the other hand was losing more of his composure every passing second. His hands that were gripping your sides were shaking as he decided to move again. Your walls were clamping on his cock, threatening to milk him dry each time he pulled out and thrust inside your pulsating cunt.

As he was trying to find a rhythm he liked, his instincts took over. Yuuji snapped his hips forward, balls slapping against your skin with a loud clap. His pace was irregular yet merciless. Incredibly vigorous, each thrust deep and penetrating. He let out a growl as your tight walls clenched around him after your boyfriend’s cock grazed the back of your throat.

Yuuji’s nails dug into your skin and he started fucking you almost frantically. With each snap of his hips, you took more of Todo’s cock down your throat. Tears streamed down your cheeks but pleasuring your boyfriend was more important. The pain was nothing compared to keeping your promise to Todo.

“Good girl,” he praised, wiping your tears with his thumbs, “My girl.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, making Yuuji lose himself completely at the sensation. He slammed into your cunt with amazing vigor, forcing you to take the entire length of Todo’s cock in your mouth as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix at the same time your nose brushed against Todo’s pubes.

Both of the guys moaned while your eyes rolled back to the back of your head. You were getting completely lost in the sweet ecstasy of Yuuji’s cock ravishing your pussy and Todo’s cock was stretching your throat simultaneously.

They were both about to cum.

You felt Yuuji’s cock twitch inside of you as Todo held his hands up and waited before slowly clapping them together.

Clap!

Your jaw relaxed once again but then your walls stretched to the point of your legs giving up under you. Yuuji took Todo’s place in your mouth and came down your throat with an audible grumble. He pulled out rather quickly, letting you take a breath to swallow his cum down.

Todo slouched forward to mount you completely and grunted into your ear as he picked up from where his best friend left. He reached one of his hands under you to toy with your clit, drawing tight circles around the nub. He snapped his hips forward, nosing some of your hair out of the way to grunt into your ear. “You’re enjoying this more than I thought. I think I know why... I think you like being shared, don’t you?"

“Yes, yes, yes!” You nodded rapidly, screaming out his name.

“You love Yuuji and you love me.”

“Yes!”

“You like being shared.”

“I… I-I do!” You weren’t sure if you were saying all of these to satisfy him or you actually wanted them but it didn’t matter. You were ready to do anything and everything to keep Todo happy.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, his cock throbbed, thick spurts of his cum filled your womb and overflowed into your pussy.

Breathless, you desperately held onto Yuuji’s thighs as Todo continued fucking his cum deep inside of you. “Why’d you switch?” Yuuji asked almost like a kid that was about to throw a tantrum.

“I can’t let you cum inside her, she’s still my girl at the end of the day.” Todo’s voice was mischievous, the grin in his voice was also present.

“I was gonna pull out,” he protested.

“I’ll let you do it next time if she’s up to it.” Todo pulled out and retrieved his hands from your hips. As soon as the only thing holding you up disappeared, your body went limp like a ragdoll on the mattress. “What do you say, (name)?”

His cum oozed out from your gaping hole and onto the sheets. You opened your mouth to stutter a single word Todo wanted to hear, “O-okay.”

#todo aoi x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #two bros gaslighting biches togetha #yeahh mannnn #pls leave a comment lol

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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

Text

god- l. laufeyson (part 2)

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, platonic!tony stark x reader, mentions of nick fury warnings: language and minor angst about: part 2 to god a/n: i apologize for taking so long to post it, i was having trouble coming up with the little details and honestly just writing overall but it’s up!! and another bucky fic will be up tomorrow or saturday!!

loki is suspicious after you leave. in the- admittedly short- time he’s been shoved away and locked in a cage to rot, he had seen you all of two times, and he was enthralled. flabbergasted, too, surprised that a simple mortal managed to stay hidden in the deep parts of his brain and refuse to leave. you were… interesting, just as you had described him: not as a villain, or evil, or horrendous, but captivating; unbelieving that he would do anything for no good reason.

whether that was true or not was still up for debate, so he had yet to decide if you were incredibly intelligent or the simple, stupid mortal he thought you all to be. nevertheless, he found himself slightly disappointed when you left, waving goodbye to him and tucking your book under your arm. while he tried to dissolve the sensation, tony stark came bounding in, standing as close as he could to the glass barrier. stark barked words that loki didn’t care much for, ignoring the man. he could see you wince from inside the elevator, a sliver of your face still available from the closing doors.

“hey, hey!” stark barked, snapping his fingers at loki. the god tilted his head at him, “yes?” he asks, voice dripped in more annoyance than usual. “that girl who just came out of here?” stark started, while loki took a minute to examine his words, “girl,” was she not an accomplished avenger? he thought tony of all people would show the respect that loki thought none of them deserved. “if you even think about doing anything to her, i will bring in the big guy to slam you around some more. you remember him? or do you need a refresher?”

loki nearly scowls at the mention of hulk, body reminding the strange ache that was left after the oaf slammed him into the floor. he only chuckles lowly, though, “how much do you distrust a fellow avenger to believe they cannot handle themselves?” loki muses. tony scoffs, shaking his head, “i really don’t think you’re in a position to question me.”

“i’m a god. i am always in the position i wish to be in,” loki reminds, making tony roll his eyes, “you’ll never see her again if i can help it. and i can,” he says. “oh, but i like her!” loki rebuts, riling tony up, “so sweet, don’t you think?” tony freezes, abruptly turning around and slamming a hand against the glass, “you will not lay a hand on her. i’ll make sure of it.”

“i seem to remember midgardians can usually do as they please,” loki replies smoothly. “and you really think she’ll want to spend time with a monster?” tony questions. loki smirks, “i suppose i simply have a feeling.”

tony is seething when he comes to your lab, having switched with steve to come talk to you. you’re humming along to a song he doesn’t bother to recognize. “you’re in a good mood,” tony observes. at the sound of his voice, you turn, taking your earbuds out and grinning at him. you press what he assumes is the pause button on your phone, “tony! i’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” you begin. tony raises an eyebrow to tell you to continue. “it’s about loki,” you continue, anxious about his reaction. the man pauses, exhaling softly, “oh. i know what you want to- i’m so sorry for doing that to you, y/n. i promised that i wouldn’t put you with him and we should’ve been more prepared. it won’t happen again.”

the confusion is clear on your face, vocally affirming it with a “huh?”

“that’s what you wanted to talk about, right? babysitting loki?”

“well, yes, but no, it actually wasn’t bad, i wanted to bring up the idea of maybe allowing him books? or maybe music or something, i can’t imagine going from having any book at your fingertips to none at all. also, he’s not getting enough food and i wanted to talk to you abou-” tony stops you with a raised hand, “what?” you recognize the conversation won’t end too well, so you try to phrase your words in a way that tony won’t get too angry at. “i just- when i was watching him, i thought we could be a little less… cruel.”

“with the guy who tried to take over earth?” tony retorts, you sigh softly, already beginning to feel resigned. “he still deserves to eat,” you defend weakly, “come on, tony, please? i’ll watch over him myself when he’s listening to music or reading or eating and i’ll take it back when i have to leave.” tony shakes his head, “someone will always be watching, and it won’t be you.” you frown, “why? don’t you trust me? i’m an avenger, tony. i’m not weak or useless, it’s just watching over someone who is literally in a cage. he can’t even escape.” tony’s about to say no again, so you press, “how come nick fury- man who doesn’t trust- trusts me enough to do that but you don’t?”

tony’s fingers squeeze the space between his eyebrows, eyes closed. he contemplates the effects if he refuses, no doubt ending in the thinning-by-the-minute thread that is your trust in him completely snapping.

“fine,” he finally agrees, and your frustrated frown melts back into a relieved small smile, “but everything you give him has to go through someone else first. i don’t care if it’s fury or hill or romanoff or me, but it has to be approved.” you nod quickly, “yes, of course.” tony raises a finger, “and, you will watch him the whole time. you got yourself into this, kid. i trust you can protect yourself from him if you ever need to.” you agree, “absolutely, and, uh-” you reach into your bag, pulling out the book finnegan’s wake, and your old ipod, equipped with a single downloaded song and earbuds plugged in. “i actually have already chosen a book and a song that i think he would appreciate during the time he tells me himself what he would like and while it gets approved, and um,” you push the objects toward tony, a surprised look lining his features, “since you have time now… the ipod has only that one song and i doubt he can do anything with either of the items, although i’ll be here if he does.”

“you picked these out for him?” tony questions, and you nod again, “i don’t really know him, i doubt anybody does, but i thought james joyce was a good guess considering.” tony looks from the objects in your hand back to you, before sighing and grabbing them. “i want to break free?” he asks, holding up the ipod. you feel your cheeks heat, “music is hard, i went for the obvious.”

tony exhales, looking down at the book, “fine, both are approved.”

“what, you’re not gonna check to see if i carved out a hole into the book and put the tesseract in there so he could escape?” you ask sarcastically, taking back the items while he rolls his eyes. “no, i trust you.” you grin, “you better. there’s no reason for you to not,” tony agrees with you softly, genuinely feeling bad while he kisses your cheek in goodbye. “steve was just called on a mission and needs a replacement, so you better get down there. bowser isn’t in a good mood today.”

you huff out a light laugh at the nickname, cradling your dear books and tangling your fingers in the cords of the earbuds while you walk to the elevator. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth while you watch the numbers blink above the elevator doors, nerves from your choices finally making a home in the pit of your stomach and making your grip tighten on the items. you really don’t know him, and one of the few things that you do know about him is that he isn’t the nicest- although you think it probable that it was warranted- which begins the inkling of regret of your carefully-picked choice to form. you try your best to push past it though, attempting to reassure yourself through the fact that loki’s reading options are limited, and as evil as everyone (including him) claims he is, you suspect (hope) that there is something in him that can’t simply disregard kind gestures. you suppose that theory is from what thor has told you about frigga. you hope it’s correct.

the elevator dings, knocking your thoughts off their destructive railroad and your attention to the shield guard wearily eyeing you and what you carry. “hey, wally,” you greet, shooting him a smile as you walk over to him, pulling your id card from your pocket. “what’cha got there?” he asks, sitting up straighter in his chair to look closer at you. “a- already approved by tony stark- book and song for loki. you know how much he had access to in asgard?” you question. he shakes his head, and you sigh, “me neither. but i imagine it’s a lot, and i don’t think he’s been introduced to our books yet.”

wally stares at you for a few seconds, before pursing his lips, “already approved by stark?” he checks, “already approved by tony,” you repeat. “just no ear things. don’t want him to choke somebody,” he instructs, holding out his hand. you oh quietly, hurriedly pulling off the headphones and putting them in his hand. wally only nods then, trusting you enough to not ask for any more reassurance, and pressing a button next to him to allow you into another elevator. the ride is much shorter, and you bounce on your heels, fidgeting with the edge of the book.

you barely recognize when the doors part, the slick-haired god already examining you. “in asgard, it is strongly discouraged to damage books like you are doing,” loki states. you stop your picking, dropping your hand and walking inside. “hello to you too, loki.” the god ignores you, instead focused on what is in your arms. “i thought any pleasantries for you weren’t allowed down here,” he says, eyes focused on your ipod. “ah, not if you ask nicely,” you reply, standing next to the chair, “and, these aren’t for me.”

you set your own book down on the floor- a very cliche wuthering heights, but it was either that or romeo and juliet, and you’d prefer not get caught reading about a forbidden romance while watching a villain- and hold up the one for him, grinning. “so i don’t know much about asgard or its books because thor hasn’t budged yet on taking me, but from what i can gather, you have little to no media from here, right?” loki ducks his chin suspiciously in response. “so i can imagine you haven’t read shakespeare, or james joyce, which reminds me a lot of you, so…”

you offer no more explanation, putting the book on your chair and showing him the ipod, walking closer to the glass. “this is an ipod. it’s used to play songs offline, and i picked one out for you. i don’t know if you’ll like it because i don’t really know what type of music you like or if you like it at all-” you pause, finally recognizing how long it had been since he’d talked. “but, uh, i hope you do.”

you look up at him then, unsurprised to find him already staring back at you. “you did this for me… why?” he queries skeptically. “i told you before; i imagine it’s difficult to go from everything to nothing in a day. and i think it must be boring to be trapped in there all day with nothing to do.”

loki still looks distrustful, but you grab the book, pulling out the key card to open his food slot. “i can’t leave these in here after i leave, but i’ll stay until you finish both,” you assure, pushing the book through the small gap. your ipod is still in your hands as you walk back near him. he looks at you for a few moments longer before his eyes flick to the book. “and there are no… explosives? poison of some kind in that?”

you shake your head, “no, of course not.”

loki narrows his eyes at the paperback anyways, walking towards it apprehensively. “when you want me to, i can teach you how the ipod works and you can listen to the song. it’s by a rock band called queen,” you babble, watching as he slowly observes the book before picking it up at an even more leisurely pace.

“i’m going to go sit over there now. just let me know if you need something,” you can’t seem to stop talking, so you focus instead on your legs moving you back to your seat, picking up your novel before sitting. you’re about to ramble on about something else again, until you notice the publication in loki’s hands, slightly panicking at the immediate rush of satisfaction and happiness it gives you when he opens the first page.

you try to avoid the sound of turning pages when you stay stuck on the same sentence, too concerned about why your neck decided to warm when the god accepted your favor.

“you can play it,” loki voices suddenly, almost as if reading the loud thoughts about your decision on the song. he looks up at you, “reading is usually accompanied by light music, but i suppose i could listen to rock.”

you nod, pressing a button on the small device that makes the beginning notes bounce off the walls of the room. your fingers gently tap along to the beat on the edge of your page without your noticing, too used to the melody to not react. you try not to look too hard at loki to watch for his reaction, too interested if he’ll like it or not.

after the first minute passes by and he doesn’t object to the sound, you count this as a win, allowing yourself to relax into your chair and actually read the words lined on the page, discovering them to make a lovely combination. you only notice when the song ends when loki speaks up, “it is okay,” he compliments, “i enjoyed it. i think i’d enjoy your so called queen.” you chuckle softly, “i thought you would. do you have any favorites here so i can add them for next time?”

“no,” loki responds, not taking his eyes off the page. “i’ll find some for you, then,” you promise, then press play on the ipod again, not missing the tiny quirk of loki’s lips, making you way too giddy than you should be.

after it has been over six hours and loki has barely finished finnegans wake, you’re completely sure he took extra time to read it; whether it be to absorb it better or simply have more time with it in his hands, you don’t care, pride swelling up in your chest because you did something right for him. he hadn’t complained about the repeated song, and you can’t blame him. the sounds are a lot more entertaining than the cold silence that usually occupies the space where he resides.

you ask loki more about what he thought, attempting to coerce him into telling you his preferences, until tony is calling you up.

you’re about to leave, both books and ipod in hand when you pause.

“y/n,” loki starts, and you realize it is the first time you’d hear your name out of his mouth. you decide you like how it sounds in his voice, not disregarding how you shouldn’t. “yes?” you answer instead, meeting his eyes. “thank you.”

you swallow, surprised at the genuinity in his voice while you nod, “it was no problem.”

loki finds it disturbing how much he dislikes seeing you walk away.

#loki laufeyson #loki friggason #mcu loki #reader x loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #tony stark #avengers x reader #avengers #avenger!reader

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kakashiswilloffire · 3 years ago

Note

hey friend! i saw you are taking requests and would love to submit one if you're up for it!

would love something fluffy and sweet for kakashi. maybe some lazy day off shenanigans with his s/o and his ninken? bonus points if snuggling in a dog pile is involved at some point. reader can be gender neutral.

thanks and congrats on 100!

thank you so much!! i'm not really a dog person so i struggled a bit but i hope you enjoy!!

ao3

words: 2.4k

warnings: none!

It was the first day off you had both had in nearly a month. Team 7 kept Kakashi busy, if not with missions, then with training all day. On top of that, he was still in the on-call rotation all jonin were required to keep their names in, though his shifts were less frequent due to his status as a sensei. You had recently been promoted, and with that, your responsibilities were upped and you had been asked to step in for one of your colleagues who had recently run into some unexpected health issues. The time you had been able to share at home together had been limited to early mornings and late evenings, and frequently, there had been nights where the apartment you shared had remained empty entirely. Your fiancé had been counting down the days until your schedules finally overlapped, and you had exactly twenty-six hours in which you both had no obligation to the outside world.

You were awoken by the fire alarm screeching and a handful of swear words, followed by a crunching of plastic and sudden silence. Gaze flickering to the side, you noted Kakashi’s two-thirds of the bed empty and grinned, holding back a chuckle.

“Everything alright, babe?” you called out.

The reply came with an air of resignment. “Did I wake you up?”

You brought your arms over your head, feeling your joints re-align and pop lightly as you stretched.

“Not necessarily, unless you need help cleaning up?”

“No!” He replied quickly, and you heard the broom skitter across the tiles, dragging the remains of the smoke detector with it. “Go ahead and go back to sleep, I’ll come wake you later.”

Not one to deny the opportunity to rest after how late you’d gotten in last night, you snuggled back into your pillow with a small smile. It only took a moment before you were drifting off again, although not as deeply as you had been. You were dimly aware of the sound of teapot being filled, the burnt toast smell wafting through the open door, and your fiance’s graceful footsteps as he danced through the kitchen.

Wait.

Danced?

You raised your head up slightly, freeing both ears to focus on the sound of the Copy Ninja’s footsteps. His weight wasn’t distributing evenly on each step and the pattern of his footfalls was irregular. Bringing yourself to a sitting position, you suddenly realized that he was humming absentmindedly in the small kitchen.

Kakashi was not known for his stoicism, but the level of professionalism he established outside of the copy of Icha Icha attached to his palm was carefully maintained even in his downtime. When you went out together for dinner or drinks with friends, he told few jokes and mostly at Genma or Asuma’s expense. Gai’s repeated challenges to karaoke contests, both in locations with and without a karaoke machine, had always been flatly denied in favor of watching you and Kurenai choose the heartbreaker duet of the week to belt out. When you found yourself at the rare club, it only took light coaxing to bring him onto the dance floor with you, but anything more than swaying to the beat was out of the question. As long as he was having fun, you didn’t mind him not joining in the way the others teased him to do, but you had wished that he would be able to let go of his responsibilities long enough to really enjoy himself one day.

You slinked out of bed, keeping your movements as fluid as possible as you wrapped the comforter over your shoulders. As silently as you could move, you travelled into the hallway and through the living room, the smell of something acrid and burnt slowly getting stronger. You flattened yourself parallel to the wall, though not touching it to prevent the noise of the comforter dragging along, once you approached the doorway to the kitchen. He was certainly humming, and you couldn’t repress a grin, realizing he must be nearly skipping from the counter to the pantry from the way he moved. As slowly as you could, despite your excitement, you leaned around the corner to check on the man in the kitchen.

Kakashi was wearing boxers and a binder, his most comfortable outfit when secure inside your shared home. To your delight, he had chosen one of the binders without a mask attached, and you had a clear view of the slightly silly grin plastering his face as he shifted intermittently from humming to light, mumbled singing, punctuated by murmuring the ingredients he was using as he reached for them. He was stationed at the stove, stirring a medium pot and tasting from it in between verses of his song, reaching for more salt or minced garlic to adjust. He closed his eyes, bobbing his head side to side at a line he took a particular interest in, the morning sunlight catching glints of silver in his messy hair.

Taking advantage of his eyes being shut, you whipped back around the doorway into the living room, quickly tiptoeing away. You were so in love, and so happy to see him carefree, your mouth fell open in a silent scream and your hands, corners of the comforter still held in each, flew to your face.

You had to tell someone. No one would ever believe that Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, could be so sweet and cute behind the former ANBU exterior. Quickly, you crouched to the floor, abandoned the comforter, and made the required handsigns, pausing for a moment to remember if it was hitsuji or uma that came after saru, then gently pressed your palm against a squishy couch cushion. With a puff of smoke that evaporated almost as quickly as it was created, Pakkun sat before you.

You brought your finger up to your lips in a shushing gesture immediately. The tiny dog squinted, but nodded his agreement after a beat. This was your third or fourth time summoning him, and the first time you had done with without Kakashi. Animal summons were not your strong suit, and you had never particularly been a dog person, a fact that Pakkun had keyed in to almost instantaneously upon meeting you when you had no more than polite “my boyfriend’s pet” level interest in his paw pads. They were as soft and supple as he claimed, but you didn’t quite understand the appeal of man’s best friend.

You made the simple gestures required to convey that there was something to see and led Pakkun quietly toward the entryway to the kitchen where you could hear the rice cooker being sealed and started. Kakashi had switched to a different song and was now vocalizing the instrumentals softly, occasionally pausing to mime playing the instruments he was mimicking. Your hand found its way over your mouth, your heart melting with the gentle domesticity. Then you jerked away, feeling a soft scratch at your feet.

The pocket-sized grizzled dog glared at you until you bent down, when he pointed upwards toward a mess of hair. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized from this angle, all you could see was the shinobi’s calloused hand pushing silver strands out of his face, the black engagement band glinting dully on his finger. For the wedding in four months, you had managed to arrange custom bands for you both with the Hatake crest engraved into the matte surface. Kakashi didn’t know yet, and you knew that with how mission work was, he wouldn’t get to wear it often, but he would have a piece of his clan’s legacy with him whenever he did wear it.

The feeling of disappointment radiated off of the dog with the headband as you absorbed the fact you hadn’t considered him not being able to see over the counter. After a moment, you held out both your hands cupped together, fingertips resting on the floorboards. Pakkun regarded this, looking from your hands to your face, which you tried to humble appropriately. He sniffed at your exposed palms, then delicately stepped into your arms.

Bringing him up to your chest as you stood back up, you felt him stiffen. Had you moved him too quickly? Were you holding him too tightly? You ran two fingers down the back of his head instinctively and were surprised to find him relax. Kakashi tasted the cloudy liquid from the pot again and nodded firmly, turning toward the doorway. You whipped around, placing your back against the living room wall and clutching Pakkun tightly to your chest. You both held your breath, waiting to see if you’d been caught.

He sang to himself, “almost ready!” and you released your breath. Quickly, you snagged the blanket off the floor and made your way back to the bedroom.

“What’s the occasion?” Pakkun demanded as soon as you had the door shut behind you, jumping onto the bed.

“There is none! It’s just our first day off in a while, and he thinks I’m still asleep!”

Pakkun considered that quietly. “His pa, Sakumo, used to do the same thing. If he thought no one was around, he’d put on a whole concert for himself. Kakashi used to join him, up until his death. Then I didn’t catch him humming again till about a year after Minato’s death. Life had been rough for the poor pup up till about then. But he’s been in there all morning singing to himself?”

You nodded, pulling the gray comforter tighter around your shoulders. You knew your fiancé had been through more than most people should ever have to go through, but to think he might be making a breakthrough with his depression and trauma—to start singing again?

Pakkun made an odd noise that reminded you of a sneeze, then pawed at his eye and seemed to clear his throat. “I gotta tell the others. They’re gonna lose it.”

“Yeah, you should definitely head back and let them know the good news. I’m supposed to be asleep after all, he’ll probably come wake me up in a minute or two.”

The sly dog hesitated, then a wicked glimmer flashed across his eyes. “Or…”

Before you could react, you were engulfed a thin cloud of smoke that smelled vaguely of grass, and your bed began to creak. You jumped up, gasping at the number of variously sized dogs that had appeared in the room.

Pakkun addressed the crew before anyone could ask any questions. “Stay quiet. We’ve got a stealth mission ahead of us. Everyone, this is Kakashi’s partner, the one he’s marrying soon.” He then turned to you and pointed out the pack members in a line. “Bull, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, and Guruko.” They were all undeniably adorable, and you’d have to ask your fiancé when he had the time to commission them all matching vests and headbands, but you were still shocked to see so many dogs. Did he really have eight summons? When most shinobi had one, if any?

“Name of the game is observe without being detected. Target: Kakashi. Location: kitchen. Standard formation. Questions?”

With no questions being posed, Pakkun lept up onto Bull’s head and led the way. You marveled in how quietly such a massive dog could move and trailed the pack as they made their way through your apartment.

You heard the timer on the rice cooker ding, then the seal breaking and relished the scent of the steam drifting through the air. There must be a stick of lemongrass in the rice this morning. You could see that Kakashi was beginning to set the table, gathering everything for a cozy breakfast for two.

He was also singing, audibly, with some degree of confidence.

One by one, the dogs all stopped and froze in awe. Akino and Uhei stepped around to the other side of you, and Shiba—or maybe it was Urushi?—popped their head between your knees to try to see. You were surrounded on all sides by the ninken, and you started to feel comforted by their warmth. Together, you all listened to your man serenade chopsticks and bowls as he spun to the small table, breaking into a mock tap routine as the china hit the wooden surface. You felt your head tilt to the right as you let the waves of love rush over you as you watched him carefully adjust the oily, burnt pan in the sink so he could wash his hands.

“Alright, love—breakfast is ready!”

For just a moment, you forgot that you were supposed to be in bed. You didn’t move as Kakashi rounded the corner, freezing when he saw nine sets of puppy-dog eyes gazing wistfully back at him from the middle of the living room, all heads tilted to the right and dreamy smiles plastered on each face.

“Ah! Uh, how long have you, uh…?”

Together, you moved as a pack toward your loved one, tackling him in a ten person hug. When you wormed your way past Uhei, you cupped Kakashi’s face and brought him in for a deep kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He blushed slightly, tracing his thumb along your jawline.

“I love you, and I’m so glad that you feel safe and happy and loved with me,” you whispered fiercely, trying to beam the intensity of your emotion at him without being too aggressive.

He smiled, Sharingan deliberately taking the whole scene in as he lay on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms. Pakkun trotted over to sit on his chest while he brought you in for a firm, tight hug.

“Me too. And I’m glad you got to meet the rest of the clan.” He let the Sharingan fall shut, relaxing against you.

“Would’ve made more miso soup if I’d known everyone was coming over. Have you seen the dog bowls around anywhere?”

#fic request #kakashi can't cook #kakashi x reader #kakashi hakate #ninken #kakashi x gn!reader #gn!reader #kakashi oneshot #naruto fanfiction #domestic kakashi #pakkun

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

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Shadowed Rationale

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,597

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Some things aren’t terribly rational. And some responses are even less so. But what other option is there? Revealing yourself can be a terribly embarrassing thing, isn’t it better to hide it?

In which the reader is afraid of the dark.

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to write based off my own prompt every two weeks. Mostly because I realized I can no longer think of ideas, and also cause I’m a bit writer’s blocked and I’d feel bad writing requests right now. This premise is pretty cheesy, but sometimes simple starting points are the best to build upon! Besides it was a really a chance to work on my atmosphere, sometimes putting an image in your mind on paper is quite difficult, especially when it comes with an unsettling sort of mood.

All the characters I chose are characters I saw at least some point in the 1.4 teaser stream (Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli are tomorrow). I’m so excited! Although I have to apologize to Venti, sorry I have no idea how to write you so I chose not to.

I realize I idealize some of these characters (ie: Childe) quite a bit. I hope that they still keep their individuality, that they still stay in character. That being said I’m quite happy with how this turned out to be, so I hope you like it.

Albedo

It’s not that you didn’t trust Albedo. Indeed Albedo sometimes felt like the only person in the world you could trust.

It was simply that, though you two had been in a relationship for the past four months or so, you still wanted to impress him in some way. Or at least not seem like a total idiot. And to you the most idiotic thing you could think of was your fear of the dark.

It wasn’t that it was a totally irrational fear, of course humans were afraid of the dark, how else could they have survived this long? It was more that the fear felt irrational now. And besides, you had a vision. Your partner had a vision. You two were more than equipped for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. Besides it’s not as if your fear had a tangible image in your mind. It was more like a cloud, a miasma, which filled you with anxiety.

You knew you should tell him, knew he’d be nothing less than a perfect gentleman about the matter. But your pride was too great, or perhaps it was your embarrassment. Either you said nothing. And here you were now, in Wolvendom, in the middle of the night, desperately trying not to jump at every shadow you passed.

Albedo wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to your nervous disposition; once he’d found something to experiment with he developed the slightly unhelpful habit of blocking the rest of the world out completely. Not that that was terrible for you in current circumstances. Maybe you’d make it out of here with your dignity intact.

That optimism however was drowned out by the oppressive anxiety you felt. Though Albedo had assured you that his connections had managed to get Razor’s promise that no wolves would bother the two of you it was still difficult to contain the shiver up your spine every time you heard their distant howling. The landscape didn’t help, comprised of sharp drops and trees which seemed as if they’d never been alive in the first place. The long cavern in which you two walked seemed too vulnerable, too low to the ground with no way to protect yourself either from behind or above. The valleys were crawling with hilichurls, and you’d occasionally see the silhouette of a wolf or two. You could make out the old Monstadt as well, if you gazed westward, and the solitary, crumbling turret cut an eerie figure against the inky sky.

As Albedo studied the lamp grass that was the reason for your expedition – as he’d developed a curiosity in regards to their luminescence, how it was created and how it might be extracted and experimented upon – you looked around you. Though there was nothing in sight to be afraid of you still found yourself going to draw your weapon, though you were loath to actually do so, not wanting to look silly. After all, only a fool would attack the dark.

Luck, however, wasn’t on your side. You seemed to be spotting a figure, appearing at the other side of the valley in which you’d found yourselves in, walking straight towards you. You blinked rapidly, brain desperately trying to choose between whether or not it was a figment of your imagination. Surely it must be? What sort of cloaked figure would be wandering around in the dark? And yet the other half of your mind whispered that it must be something, something or someone, and that something or someone was fast approaching you. Was it? Or were you just imagining it? You truly couldn’t decide. Another howl echoed on the wind. Your senses were becoming too overwhelmed, too confused. Oh why were you there? Why oh why oh why?

You backed up slightly, brain now determined to see the shadow on the horizon as a human. Your hand clutched your weapon and you tried to remember if there was something, anything behind you. A ridge perhaps, so you might not have to worry about what was behind you, might be able in some ways to ground yourself.

Unfortunately luck wasn’t on your side, and instead of finding some point of security you found yourself tripping over your partner.

“Shit.” Albedo let out a curse as you fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. “My love are you alright?”

You said nothing, instead glancing back towards the other end of the valley. The figure seemed much skinnier from the ground, and for a moment you felt your brain cloud over in confusion. Then, as if all of a sudden your mind had put the pieces together, you felt a rush of relief, swiftly followed by embarrassment. A trunk. It was a tree trunk. Covering your face with your hands you groaned.

“Beloved?” Albedo asked once again. You looked up at him, a feeling of sheepishness and fondness washing over you as you saw the worried expression on his face.

“It’s nothing Albedo, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just… ah,” you let out a sigh, steeling yourself for the interaction you’d specifically hoped wouldn’t happen, “I’m, I’m afraid of the dark. My eyes were playing tricks on me just now, I thought I saw someone walking towards us. But it was just a tree.” You let out an embarrassed sort of sound, once more burying your face in your hands. Damn it. Now what were you going to do?

The feeling of fabric around your shoulders was a surprising one, and you quickly looked up. Albedo was crouching down beside you, having wrapped his coat around you. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment in his eyes, only love and a sense of caring.

“You should’ve told me.” He said, voice soft and warm. “I’m sorry I brought you along when it makes you so uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m being such a pain,” you replied, “it’s such a stupid fear of mine. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I felt like, like you’d think I was being irrational. Like I was being silly.”

“There’s nothing irrational about being afraid of the dark my love. It can be frightening after all, not being able to use all your senses to their full capacity. And even if it were an irrational fear, I wouldn’t look down on you for it. Alchemists, those who study the world, they cannot expect to always interact with what is perfect, what is always rational or what always makes sense. Neither are they infallible themselves. Besides,” he continued, brushing your hair out of your face, “I’d rather you be cautious over nothing than see you hurt.”

You found yourself unable to say anything, overcome by his words. It wasn’t that he’d said anything you hadn’t told yourself, you knew after all that being afraid of the dark wasn’t without a purpose, that it wasn’t utterly irrational in itself. But it felt different when Albedo said it. When you said it there was always your anxiety to counter it, when Albedo said it you accepted it as true. For it was Albedo who said it, and he’d never lie to you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, hugging the coat closer around you, happy to be enveloped in something so familiar and comforting.

“Of course,” Albedo smiled, kissing you on your forehead, “I love you. So very dearly.”

The rest of the night you kept his coat wrapped around you. Although Albedo had quickly reverted to his informative sort of state he hadn’t forgotten what had passed, and every once in a while he’d give you a quick hug, or squeeze your hand in reassurance.

Overall it wasn’t such a terrible night.

Childe

There was no hiding your fears from Childe.

The man was the nosiest – or perhaps most observant – person you’d ever met, and he’d quickly put two and two together as soon as you’d started living together.

Unfortunately for you Childe also had the kind of work schedule that would make a surgeon’s job feel envious. And a part of that schedule entailed you staying up at all hours of the night, trying desperately not to jump at every sound.

You knew that it was going to be one of those nights, and as of such you’d decided to take a nap in the afternoon, so the lack of sleep wouldn’t weigh on you too much. The afternoon sun had been strong, and though you’d decided not to close the curtains you also didn’t bother to keep any of the lights on. After all it wasn’t supposed to be more than an hour long nap or so, and keeping the lights on felt like a bit of waste.

Your regret came the moment you opened your eyes to the pitch black of your room.

How did something change so drastically from daytime to nighttime? All the familiar figures around you seemed to have disappeared, or perhaps it was more accurate to say they’d been transformed. Now even your closet door seemed to have taken on a life of its own, wriggling within its frame as if possessed. The unobstructed window cut harsh lines along your floor, but it was a cloudy sort of night, and every once in a while even the moon would be snuffed out, sending your heart rate skyrocketing once more.

You were utterly and totally paralyzed. At first you’d drawn the covers over your head, hoping to block it all out, but it was a warm evening and quickly you found yourself throwing your blankets off, needing some unobstructed air, met once more with the terror of the dark.

Childe, you wished Childe were here. He always knew how to chase away the dark, how to make the books and the lamps and the dressers go back to their usual selves. His teasing annoyed you sometimes, but now you longed for the distraction. If only he weren’t so late. If only you’d paid better attention to the time, if only.

Your eyes darted around your room, as if seeking out something you knew wasn’t there. You knew that whatever you saw was an illusion, the result of your brain trying to piece something together, something to keep it from getting bored. You knew perfectly well that it was an explainable phenomenon. And yet fear is so very difficult to fight, so though you continued scolding yourself for your nonsensical actions, you also continued to look around, sure that you’d find something if only you paid enough attention.

Time had frozen along with you, and you were so preoccupied with your fear that the door opening came as a terrible shock. You jumped, adrenaline racing through your veins, but the muffled “I’m home” was what you’d been waiting for. You just needed to go greet him. The moment you got out of your room and to the light of the kitchen it’d be alright. But you were still frozen, and though your mind screamed at your limbs to move you found there was no escaping the sort of spell that had been cast by your fear.

The sliver of light from the hallway finally began to eat away at your trance. The door opening to reveal Childe was what completely broke it.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Childe asked, a look of concerned plastered on his face. You let out a strangled sort of cry as an answer, fumbling off the bed before catapulting straight into his arms, burying your face in his chest. Childe immediately reciprocated the hug, stroking your hair in a soft, soothing motion. It hadn’t taken much to put the pieces together. What else after all could it be.

“It was the dark, wasn’t it?” He asked, whispering a faint “ah” in response to you nodding your head. “It’s okay my darling, I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, alright? It’s okay, it’s alright. It must’ve been very frightening to be alone.” His voice was almost melodic, the sotto tone slowly coaxing you back to yourself.

How confused would people be, you thought to yourself, how confused they’d be if they realized how kind Childe truly is. But you were grateful for that kindness. Right now it was what you needed. There’d be teasing tomorrow, teasing and bantering, and everything that was the usual Childe. But right now there was only comfort and softness, and you thanked Childe and the archons for it.

The rest of the night was a sedate one. You were both tired, Childe from his work, you from not only yours but the terrible fright you’d had. The two of you had eaten a late dinner, chairs pulled up next to each other, hands intertwining intermittently. There wasn’t much talking, instead you two enjoyed being in each other’s presence; the familiarity and comfort it brought.

Though the night was still warm you found yourself cuddling, arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled together. The beating of Childe’s heart steadied you, his breathing reminded you that he was there, that you were safe now. You didn’t have to fear the demons that your mind imagined. He’d scare them away for you.

It was difficult to keep secrets from Childe, and in the beginning the urge had been there. Who would want a significant other who jumped at shadows and was always spinning tales of the dark in their head? Especially someone like Childe who was so confident, so self-possessed. It was shameful, a part of you told yourself, how could he bear it?

But you were glad he’d figured it out, that you couldn’t keep secrets from him. Because at the end of the day Childe knew you best, knew how to keep the fear and the anxiety at bay, knew that being afraid of the dark, although worth a little teasing, didn’t make you any less of a mature and intelligent human being. And for that you loved him.

You loved him so much.

Diluc

“I know this might be sudden, but I want you to move into the Winery.”

That simple sentence had the adverse effect of completely messing up your life.

Your initial reaction had essentially been to buffer. Living together with Diluc, living with the person you loved above all others, it really seemed like a dream come true. Like something you’d wish to happen without any hope of said wish being realized. And yet it wasn’t a dream. He’d actually asked you. Diluc had actually asked you to live with him.

Once you’d gotten over your initial euphoria however a problem seemed instantly to present itself. That problem being that you were absolutely terrified of the Winery after dark.

I mean, who wouldn’t be? It was an old building, old enough for servants to whisper about lights that turned on without prompting, about footsteps coming down the empty halls, about people of old stepping out of their portraits and dancing the night away. It was absolutely terrifying to you, who already looked upon the dark with no little suspicion. And although the occasional night with Diluc was fine, you weren’t sure if you could deal with waiting in such a vast, creaking space alone.

But you didn’t want to tell Diluc that. Because though you were indeed a bit terrified, living with him did sound heavenly. It was something you dreamed of, and you didn’t want Diluc to come away with the wrong impression, the idea that you somehow thought he was being too familiar or going too fast. The thought of telling Diluc about your predicament never crossed your mind in the span of the conversation. After all it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it, he couldn’t very well redo the entire winery. Besides, it was such a silly fear, telling him about it would feel like you were making a mountain out of a molehill.

Eventually your mind settled on an answer: dragging the matter out. Professing your happiness at the idea you told him that it would require some mulling over, not to mention the paperwork in regards to the apartment you were currently living in. Diluc took it all with perfect understanding, assuring you that he could wait. “Besides,” he’d said, “what’s a little while when compared to the rest of our lives?” You’d blushed profusely at that, burying your face in Diluc’s neck. Yes, it would be alright in the end. And with that you pushed it out of your mind.

For the time being.

Although Diluc had many virtues patience was – perhaps surprisingly – not among them. Not more than three days had passed before he mentioned it again. Not that you were unhappy about it, no it wasn’t that. Nor did you feel pressured by him, you certainly didn’t. It was just the question of the Winery itself, and the fear that hung over your head like a sword. Just some time, a little more time.

The days turned into weeks, then almost a whole month, the whole time being wrapped up in your little song and dance. Diluc was evidently feeling dejected, but though you felt more than a little guilty about the whole matter, you still continued stalling.

Finally though things came to a head.

“My dear I understand if you don’t want to move in, but please just tell me!” Diluc burst out, voice dripping with frustration. “I understand if this is going too fast, I understand if you’re overwhelmed, I understand if you realize you’re not ready. But you must tell me, you must tell me what you’re thinking or else I’ll never be able to put this at rest.”

“It’s not that.” You assured him, shaking your head violently.

“Then what is it?” Your reply stuck in your mouth at his question. Why had it come to this? Conflicting emotions rose inside you, but all of them pointed towards one thing. You needed to tell him the truth. You needed to, or else this was going to turn into one of the stupidest rows you’d ever participated in.

“I… I’m afraid of the dark.” You replied softly, voice petering out to be no more than a whisper. Immediately the look of exasperation on Diluc’s face was replaced by one of concern.

“My dear?”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” you replied, this time with more force, “I’m afraid of the dark and I’m really afraid of the Winery after dark. So that’s why I’ve been putting it off. Not because I don’t want to move in, not because I think this is going too fast, but because the Winery makes me uncomfortable after dark. It’s so creaky and open and old and while that might be charming in the daytime, at night I feel like someone’s watching me.” You hugged yourself slightly, the image placed vividly in your mind. Yes, you did feel like you were being watched. Everywhere you turned you were surrounded by the eyes of those who were long gone, and it frightened you, how terribly it frightened you.

Diluc closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping you in his embrace. You reciprocated immediately, inhaling deeply, comforted by his presence.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t know. If I had I’d have never proposed it.”

“You couldn’t’ve known,” your voice was slightly muffled by his jacket, “besides, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I knew you couldn’t do anything about it.” Lifting your head up you gazed at Diluc, who cupped your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to move in my dear.” Diluc’s voice was soft but firm, there was nothing but sympathy and encouragement in it. You smiled softly, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“But I want to. That’s the problem Diluc, I desperately want to move in. And yet I don’t know what to do. I can’t have you hanging around me each night. You’re the Darknight Hero. I cannot expect you to give that up for me. Even if you said you would I wouldn’t let you. I know how much it matters to you.”

There was a pause before Diluc spoke again. “Then let me suggest this. We see ways that we might accommodate. Perhaps a night lamp or some such thing. Or perhaps I need to pay more attention to the structure of the Winery. We’ll see what we can do together, and if nothing can be solved then we’ll find another way. Is that alright, my dear?”

“That sounds lovely.” You replied, finally smiling in earnest. What did you do to deserve such a human in your life? It felt like too much sometimes. You were experiencing such happiness as you seldom had before, not to such a degree. And you cherished it with all your heart.

It was the evening. You two were getting ready for the night, you preparing to go home, Diluc preparing for the task ahead of him.

“You spoil me terribly, you know.” You said, planting a quick kiss on Diluc’s cheek. Diluc smiled slightly mischievously, leaning down to give you a proper kiss.

“I don’t spoil you.” He finally replied, expression softening to one of fondness. “And if there was anyone in the world worth spoiling it’s you. I love you my dear, I’d do anything for you.”

“And I for you.” Your reply was soft, you yourself overcome by the love you felt.

It’d be alright in the end. If you knew anything, you knew that. It’d be alright. Because you’d have the one you loved most in the world with you every step.

#this title is so pompous...#the other option was 'irrational'#Blatant wish fulfillment when it comes to wearing albedo’s coat #Also is Diluc’s too rushed?#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo #childe #diluc #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #scenarios #my writing

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luffles424 · 4 years ago

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Moonlight

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 3.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

☼ Summary: Seokjin has been back in your life for 5 years now. It’s a different future than what you had imagined, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. What else does the future hold for you?

☼ Drabble/epilogue to Sunrise

☼ a/n: Surprise! So many people were asking and curious about what happened and I got a little brain worm of an idea of what the future holds for the Sunrise pair! This can probably be read as a stand alone if you didn’t want to read the first part. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Excitement bubbles in your belly as you smooth the front of your dress down, hand pausing for just a moment on your belly as you give yourself one final once-over in the mirror. You’re so happy that you finally got to wear the sunset dress again. Although you have no idea what you’re wearing it for.

Seokjin has been tightlipped about his plans for you tonight. He simply told you to dress up, hinted to you to wear this specifically. He’d seen it a while ago one night when he was over, hanging in your closet. You’d told him why when he questioned why you had it hanging up, though he’d shyly told you that he had seen you wear it already. When you said you’d kept it because you wanted to wear it again, he got a gleam in his eye that you never quite understood. At least, until now with his not so subtle hints to wear it.

You smile thinking about him. It’s been a lot of work to get to this point. But it’s been so worth it. No matter the length of time. You’ve treasured every single moment.

You had spent about 2 years getting to know each other again. There was a thrill in learning Seokjin all over again. To discover the little things about the man he grew into. Hearing stories about the years you missed. Stories about friends you hadn’t kept in touch with but he had. You shared stories from friends you’d kept close but he had lost contact with. Every time you two were together was a fun adventure in discovery.

And for all the new things you were learning about him. He could still make you laugh just as easy and it was so easy to still joke with him. The new and old blended to make the Seokjin before you and it was simple to start falling for him all over again.

Then, one day, Seokjin stopped by your place unannounced and asked you out. He was panting, like he’d sprinted the whole way there and his confession was rushed out in one long breath and you only caught half of it. It took everything in you not to laugh at the wild look in his eye as he rambled, but as funny as it was, it was hopelessly endearing.

You couldn’t deny that it felt right, so you said yes. The easiest decision you had ever said yes to. Now, almost 3 years later, you’re still going strong. Far stronger than you ever were in university. You’ve both learned a lot from the past. For all that you have problems, like any human, you’ve gotten better at communicating through it. You know when you need to take a break, get some space to sit with your feelings and be able to put them into words. And it’s done wonders to make things work smoother.

You rack your brain, trying to figure out if maybe you’re missing some important date. An anniversary? No, that was less than two months ago. Seokjin took you to a private beach. Not that either of you saw much of the beach with how adamant Seokjin seemed to keep you in bed with him.

You shudder as another orgasm courses through your body. “Seokjin…” you whine.

You get a hum in response but his face remains firmly buried in your pussy, where he’s been for at least an hour and several orgasms at this point. You’d protested by your third one, whining for his cock. But Seokjin had simply pressed a sloppy kiss to your thigh as he took a moment to explain that tonight was all about you.

Apparently all about you meant he was going to make you cum until you passed out. Your entire body tingled, some weird mix between being numb and feeling like every nerve was electrified. Deliriously, your fingers tighten in his hair and tug, harder than you intend if his sharp inhale against you is anything to go by.

“Baby, please…” You give him another tug.

If you weren’t so weak, you would push him until you could climb on his dick yourself. Chuckling, Seokjin finally pulls away, face smeared with your slick and face equal parts pleased and smug.

“Want my dick that bad?” he teases.

You glare. “I will go find the nearest sex shop and buy a dildo. At least it wouldn’t get mouthy.”

Seokjin’s grin is bright as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he swoops down to pepper your face with kisses. “You like my mouth.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips, lining his hips with yours and letting his cock settle against your soaked slit. His smile softens and he presses a far gentler kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You give his hair another tug. “I’d love you more if you put your dick in me.”

He blinks at you before erupting into squeaky laughter. “You ruined it.”

“I ruined nothing. You’re still hard as a rock.”

To prove your point, your grind against him, making you both gasp at the pressure. Seokjin ignores the comment, choosing instead to finally give you what you’ve been wanting. He pulls his hips back ever so slightly, just enough to position himself at your entrance and then he’s pressing forward, filling you with one languid stroke.

He keeps his pace just as slowly as he ate you out. Taking his time and ensuring you feel every inch and shift of his cock inside you. He cums what feels like an eternity later, filling you further. He keeps himself buried in you, kissing you slowly and deeply, pouring every ounce of love for you into it.

So definitely not your anniversary. Neither of your birthday’s are near. Neither of you have had any recent accomplishments that need to be celebrated. You suppose he could just want to take you out, one of his new favorite things is taking you on dates whenever your schedules allow it.

You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t need elaborate dates. But he seems to know how much you do enjoy being spoiled by him, even as you protest it. Though at some point he did seem to realize that you also love nights spent at home, curled up with him on the couch together. And he’s been all too happy to flex his improved cooking skills. You’ve definitely enjoyed learning that new aspect of him too. University hadn’t been conducive to cooking elaborately. Money was often tight and so what you ate often was prepared or frozen with the occasional nicer meal when finances worked in your favor.

Tonight feels different though. There’s something about the secrecy and meticulous planning that makes this seem different than just a regular date night. You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what he has planned for you. If Seokjin didn’t want you to know, there would be no way for you to try and figure out what the secret was.

You check your phone, seeing that Seokjin should be here soon and so you move out to the living room to wait for him. You’re so thankful that you got to meet Seokjin again. You’re even more thankful that you had the time apart to grow on your own. While the break up was painful and rough when it happened and for a while after. You wouldn’t be the person you are now without it. It makes the relationship now that much more special.

No matter what news or plans Seokjin has, you have your own to share to make the night happy. Your hand rests on your belly once more, a small smile on your face.

There’s a brief knock at the door and then it’s opening, Seokjin beaming when he sees you standing in the living room. You let your hand drop from your belly.

“Wow,” he breaths, eyes slowly tracing over your frame. “You look… stunning.”

You grin, giving him a slow look up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, finally coming closer and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I had a lot of help from this pretty amazing designer.”

You feel a pleased rush run through you and you return the kiss eagerly. It’s easy to get lost in the kiss and you almost want to tell him to just forget about whatever he has planned in favor of spending the evening in bed. But Seokjin pulls away, a slightly bewildered smile on his face when you try to follow.

“Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

“For what?”

He just raises an eyebrow at you and you huff. He honestly can’t blame you for trying to get some sort of hint or answer about his plans. Taking your hand, he presses his lips to your knuckles before entwining your fingers. He leads you out to the waiting car, helps you into the back, carefully ensuring that your dress is safely tucked inside the car before he’s moving to the other side and sliding in beside you.

The drive is almost silent, save for the soft music filtering through the speakers. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, deciding to just enjoy being with him again. He’s been busy the last few weeks with a new film and this is the first evening he’s been free to be with you that isn’t just takeout and the couch. Or bed depending on how tired either of you are.

Seokjin gently shakes you awake some time later and you blink blearily at him for a moment. His smile is endearingly fond as he waits for your brain to kick back on after your impromptu nap. You’ve been so tired lately.

“Are we here?”

He laughs and brushes a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby, we are.”

Once he believes that you’ll stay awake, he gets out, circling around to your side and helping you out of the car. You look around with a frown, unfamiliar with where you are. You’re in front of a tall building, windows reflecting the sunset. The building is unmarked and that leaves you even more confused.

Smiling at your confusion, he takes your hand and leads you forward into the building. The elevator ride has anticipation building in your belly. Seokjin always plans the best surprises. He’s only grown more thoughtful and kind with age.

Finally the elevator dings open, revealing a restaurant lobby.

Except the lobby is empty, most of the lights off. Are they closed? You turn toward Seokjin, brows furrowed in confusion.

He grins, gesturing towards the wall behind the host stand where the restaurant name is lit up, the brightest of the lights in the room currently. Moonlight.

“So… Me and Seokjung are opening a restaurant. Well, he’s doing all the hard work. I’m just an investor. It opens in a couple of weeks.”

You grin. You know Seokjung’s wanted to open a restaurant for the longest time. The Kim brother’s definitely shared a love of cooking and food. You can’t believe he’s hidden this from you. But knowing him, he wanted everything perfectly in place before he revealed it to you. Which seems to be tonight. “Seokjin, that’s amazing!”

He nods. “Seokjung’s ecstatic…”

Tilting your head, you inspect him slowly. “If it’s not open, then why are we here?”

Shyly, Seokjin leads you past the lobby into the dining area. It’s massive, so much bigger than you would have thought it would be, given how the building looks from the outside. The most stunning thing is the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. You didn’t know you were so close to the shore.

Without thinking, you move to the window, looking out over the sunset. The view is just as stunning as you thought it would be.

“It took months to find the right place. Seokjung was getting so frustrated that I kept saying no to every place he suggested. But I had this vision for it. This vision. Something I could bring the love of my life to. That felt like home to us... And everyone else,” he adds belatedly.

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s such a sap. You reach a hand out and he takes it, letting you pull him beside you. You’re both silent for a long moment, looking out at the gorgeous view.

“Seokjin, I’m-”

“We’ve been-”

You both start at the same time, laughing when you both stop.

You gesture for him to continue. “You go first, baby. You planned all this, you’ve clearly had this for a lot longer.”

Licking his lips, he nods. He pulls you a few feet away towards a table that’s set beside the windows, candles casting twinkling light across the glassware.

“Seokjung is cooking for us tonight.” He pulls your seat out for you, circling around to sit across from you. He looks inexplicably nervous, but a streak of nerves runs through you too with the news you’re holding on to. “I wanted to do something special. I thought being the first person to try the restaurant was pretty special. And I wanted you to be the first person to eat and see this view. I wanted to be with you when you saw it.”

Reaching across the table, you take his fidgeting hand. You love this man so much. Seokjung comes out then, hands laden with plates that he sets out on the table. The spread is truly impressive. Seokjung has to make two trips to bring everything out.

You laugh incredulously as Seokjung retreats back to the kitchen. “Are you planning to feed an army here?”

Seokjin grins sheepishly. “Seokjung was a little excited to work out the menu and have someone try everything. He’s going to ask later for feedback and you know how he is about that.”

You give a nod. You definitely do know how Seokjung can get. It’s the same way Seokjin sometimes gets when he’s trying out a new recipe. You both eat in companionable silence. There’s no need to fill the silence with a lot of chatter. It’s more than enough to just be here with him. Seokjin occasionally feeds you bites of things he thinks you’ll like and it’s thrilling to have him spoil you like this. When he sees things that you like more, he makes sure that you have most of it, not-so-subtly shifting those bites towards you.

You try to surreptitiously ignore the full wine glass throughout the meal. Resorting to distracting Seokjin whenever his eyes begin to drift towards it with confusion. He knows it’s your favorite. It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain why you can’t drink it right now. You can tell that there’s something else Seokjin wants to say. That tonight doesn’t seem to be solely about being the first to eat at the restaurant. Seokjin wouldn’t be so nervous if it was as simple as that.

Once the food is gone, Seokjung brings out dessert and Seokjin seems to grow even more nervous. As you reach out to take a spoon, Seokjin stops you.

Licking his lips, he seems to be preparing himself for something. You wait, letting him get his words in order. Finally, he meets your gaze and his face is set with determination.

“We’ve been through a lot. Had our ups and downs. Hell, we were apart for over 10 years. But somehow, despite everything, despite it seeming like we’d never see each other again. We found each other. Out of all the people in the world, we found each other again. On a beach where we had so many memories. And… and we’ve worked so hard for what we have now. I’m… God, I’m so grateful to have gotten another chance with you. I never even imagined this much. I would’ve been happy just being friends. Having you in my life again… Being able to love you again. It’s a chance I never thought I could have. A chance to do things right. To treat you the way you deserve…”

You smile when he trails off, threading your fingers with him. “I’m happy I found you again too.”

That seems to give him the confidence to go on. “I’ll spend my every waking moment ensuring you know just how loved you are. If you’ll let me. If you want me too.” He slips out of his seat, dropping to his knee beside you. Your heart skips a beat as you watch him with wide eyes. “Baby, Y/n… I love you so much. If you’ll let me, I’d want nothing more than to keep loving you for the rest of our lives.”

He pulls a small box out of his pocket, nearly fumbling it with nerves, and opens it to reveal a glittering ring. Tears gather in your eyes and you stumble out of your seat to wrap your arms around him.

“Yes, of course. God, how could I not want to marry you?”

Seokjin lets out a relieved breath, as if there was a possibility you’d say no. He’s absolutely mad if he thought you’d say no. You press a kiss to his lips, joy filling you. Seokjin kisses you for a long moment before pulling away and, with shaking fingers, pulls the ring free from the velvet to slip it onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

You smile at the ring. It’s so gorgeous. For a moment, you forget entirely about your own news. But then Seokjin is pulling the wine glasses from the table, holding yours out to you. Clearly intent on celebrating your engagement.

You stare at the glass for a long moment before slowly reaching out to take it. You chew your lip before setting the glass back on the table. Seokjin frowns in confusion, mouth opening to question your actions but you quickly shake your head.

“So… I have some news.” You fidget with your fingers and Seokjin is quick to set his own glass aside and take your hands in his, thumbs sweeping comfortingly over the skin of your palms. You take a deep breath and then bring his hands to your belly. They’re warm through the fabric of your dress. “I’m pregnant.”

Seokjin blinks at you, his face startlingly blank. Nerves creep in but after a moment of processing, Seokjin’s face is breaking out in the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

“Pregnant?” You nod. “We’re going to have a baby?”

He whoops with joy, pulling you into a tight embrace with such force that you nearly fall over, babbling about everything that you’ll have to do in the coming months.

It’s kind of funny. Back in high school and university, when you pictured your life together, it was nothing like what you have now. But somehow, despite the heartache, the distance, everything, it’s so much better than you imagined.

It’s perfect.

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