#and it was freezing. so no way was I fumbling around with my camera and my phone when I couldn’t feel my fingers

[gaytobymeres]

York train station, a cold November Sunday 2023

Taken on Rollei 35S on Ilford HP5 film

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[vienssunshine]

Obviously It's Cold in the Wintertime

pairing: Josh Washington x gn reader sfw word count: 2.3k alternate universe: no Josh prank author’s comment: Until Dawn is the ideal choice for one of my favorite tropes: needing to be close for warmth/body heat.

The lodge is freezing.

You hold the quilt tight to your shivering body, trying to pull it closer than it already is, but the winter air is uncaring. It slips under your quilt and settles over you like an additional blanket, not one of comfort, but ice.

The only clothes you packed to face the harsh winter up on the mountain were ones you’d wear outside, like your puffer jacket or beanie. You didn’t think you’d need to prepare for the weather inside as well, and your choice of sleepwear—athletic shorts and a baggy t-shirt—reflects that.

You wish Josh had reminded you that despite his family’s profuse wealth, their lodge has no central heating. But, you can’t blame him for your mistake, and he's had a lot going on anyway. Regardless, you’ll still have to bother him about your situation because, despite your best efforts, it's impossible to fall asleep like this.  

Sitting up in your bed, you pull the quilt off your legs, removing the little warmth it provided. There’s a relief, though fleeting, from the pervasive cold when a tingle of excitement shoots down your spine from knowing you’re about to go see Josh, alone, and at night.  

Your hand reaches out into the dark to search the top of the nightstand for your phone, finding and turning it on after a few seconds of fumbling around. You click on the phone's flashlight—there’s no electricity in this place, either—and use it to find your slippers and the guest room door. 

The glow from your phone does little to demystify the dark, empty void staring back at you when you pull the door open. It’s an intimidating task, to navigate the endless twists, turns, and, according to Josh, secret passages of the lodge. Thankfully, the dusty glass of the windows allows the deep blue of the night sky to seep into the cabin and illuminate the general silhouette of things like the main staircase and the circular chandelier hanging above you. 

You make your way through the living room, using your phone to avoid obstacles like couches and tables, and head up the tall staircase. Your footsteps echo through the open air as you climb, but aren’t loud enough to wake anybody up. 

Keeping close to the handrail lining the hallway, you walk down to the last door, Josh’s door, and place a few soft knocks on it.

You hear his voice through the wood. “Yeah?” 

He's awake, perfect. You creak the door open and slip into the room. “Hey, it’s me.” 

“Oh, what a nice surprise,” Josh says, grinning. You return the smile.

You turn off your phone flashlight and walk into his room, having to squint to see where you’re going in the dim light. Josh is sitting on his bed, his back relaxed on a large pillow pressed against the headboard. He’s in pajamas too, a black sweatshirt and flannel pants. The only source of light in the room is a movie projected onto the wall by an old-timey camera set up by his side of the bed. He flicks a button on the top of the camera, pausing the movie, and turns to you. 

“So, what can I do for you?” he asks. 

“Hmm?”

Josh tilts his head, “There must be some reason you’re in my room at,” he glances at his phone, “two in the morning.” 

“Oh, right. I came to see if you had any extra blankets or something? It’s, uh, really cold in my room.”

A mischievous smile. “Y’know, I bet I could help warm you up. No blankets necessary.” 

“I’m serious, Josh,” you respond, rolling your eyes. Though you don’t betray it, his comment, cliché as it may be, sends a tingle similar to earlier up your back. 

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, throwing his hands up, “I’ll be serious.” 

“Thank you,” you respond. It’s not that you would mind if he kept flirting with you, it’s just that you need to warm up, you're barely able to feel your fingers.

Josh runs his eyes over you. “Well, no matter what I do, you’re still gonna be cold in that,” he says, giving your PJs a disapproving look. 

You shift your weight under his gaze. “Yeah, well, I forgot there’s no heat up here,” you say.

“Rookie mistake,” Josh laughs, standing up from his bed and walking around it to reach the dresser made of dark wood on the other side. He pulls the middle drawer open by its antique handles and takes one of his sweatshirts out, bringing it over to you. “This should help.”

As he hands it to you, your fingers brush his. “Wow, you do feel cold,” he remarks. 

“What, did you think I was lying?” you tease, giving him a light push. “Thanks for the sweatshirt.” 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, watching you pull it over your head.

The extra layer was a good call, you aren’t shaking anymore. You note another benefit of the sweatshirt: it smells just like him.

“That’s so much better,” you say, and a pleased smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And the extra blankets? Are there any?” you ask. 

He rubs his neck, “Right, about that…”

“Oh, are there none in the lodge?” you say, holding the edges of the hoodie to your face, trying to warm your ears. 

“Well, no…see…” Josh says, “I already gave the extra blankets to Mike.”

You frown. Mike. Your friend group isn’t full of angels, but you have a particular dislike for Mr. Class President.

With a huff, you say, “I don’t see why you did that, I’m sure he and Jess can keep plenty warm together.”

“Mike said he needed all the blankets to make his room a cozy, romantic love den. His words, not mine. My hands were tied, I had to help a bro out.”

Your brows furrow, still baffled by how Mike managed to convince Josh to give him every single blanket there was to spare. That conniving, silver-tongued little-

“But hey,” Josh says, “You can just take some of mine.” He steps back and gestures to the bed with his hand. 

“I’m not taking your blankets, Josh,” you answer, despite how persuasive the chilled air is being.

“C’mon, you’re freezing,” he insists, picking your hand up from your side, “Your fingers are as cold as ice.” 

Unlike yours, his hand is warm. You press your lips together, your heart in your throat from a simple touch that feels nicer than it should.

“I’ll be fine,” you lie, pulling your hand away. “Really. I don’t want to take your blankets from you.” 

He looks at the bed, then you, the bed, and then back at you. “Okay, we can share instead,” he says with a shrug, as if his suggestion were no big deal.

Your eyes widen. “Um…are you serious?” you ask. 

“Didn’t I promise I was going to be serious from now on?” he says. When you don’t move, he continues, “Really, I don’t mind. I’d actually love to have someone to watch this movie with.” He smirks before finishing with, “If it’s not too scary for you.”

You scoff, self-consciousness forgotten. “I’m not scared of some movie.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he teases, sitting down on the bed and moving over to make space.

“Really,” you insist, “I’m not.” 

“Then come join me,” he says, patting the spot next to him.

Your eyes run over the soft bedding with the same caution you’d have for a battlefield. Then, a step forward takes you to the edge of the bed, and you lower yourself down onto the mattress. Josh waits until you kick off your slippers and slide under his comforter before unpausing the movie, a small, victorious smile on his lips. You’d usually be more annoyed, hating to lose, but gratitude takes over as the gentle warmth of the blankets begins to ease the edge of the cold off you.

Josh’s bed is huge, so you’re able to sit a reasonable distance away from him. You doubt a similar thought crosses his mind because, unlike you, he doesn’t seem to think sharing a bed is anything to be worked up about: he’s spread out on his side of the mattress, back against the pillows, hands behind his head.

You steal glances at him, noticing how his broad chest rises and falls with his gentle breaths. He looks so comfortable; it makes you want to close the distance, to have your body pressed to his side and your head resting on his warm chest. Sudden heat singes your ears and you look away from him. As far as you know, this is platonic, just a friend helping a friend keep warm. 

A gargled roar emits from the speaker. Though the volume is down, it’s still enough to draw your eyes to the blob monster displayed on the flickering projection. It’s closing in, bubbling and gurgling towards a damsel whose dress is caught on a tree branch. Even with all that action, the movie does little to distract you from the fact that the guy you have a thing for is tucked under the same sheets as you, only an arm’s reach away. 

“I’m surprised you’re up this late,” you comment, launching yourself out of your thoughts. “And watching a movie that’s not scary at all.”

“Just wait, the worst part hasn’t even happened yet,” he says, leaning over to give you a playful nudge. His eyes remain fixed on the flickering screen as he finishes responding. “And yeah, I couldn’t really fall asleep, so I put something on.” 

“Too cold for you, too?” you ask.

“Nah, temperature’s fine. It’s just, y’know, being up here again…”

Of course. You should have known. 

You look down to your hands in your lap. “It’s probably a lot. I’m sorry, Josh. Really.” 

“I appreciate it,” he says, letting out a deep breath as if he’s trying to exhale the weight on his chest. “I’m glad you’re all with me, it’s easier dealing with what happened.”

“We’re here for you.” You move a hand from your lap to his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m here for you. Anything, Josh.” 

“Thank you,” he says, his hand covering yours. “It means a lot to me that you’re saying that. I hope you know I’d do the same for you.” You nod, his kind words making your heart melt like candle wax. “Speaking of, are you feeling any warmer? Your hand, it still feels-” 

You drop your hand back down to the blanket, noticing that, though you haven’t shivered since you put on the sweatshirt, your fingertips still feel dull, unable to fully sense the softness of the cloth. “It’s a little better, but I’m still pretty cold,” you admit.

“Well, I can’t have you freezing to death,” he tells you. 

“That might ruin the trip,” you say with a small laugh.

“You’re right. I would get in so much trouble.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble because of me.” You tilt your head, a bashful smile spreading across your face. 

He takes a second to drink in everything the faint light of the movie reveals of your expression. “Good thing I have a solution to our problem.”

“Yeah?”

His response is one that diverges from his typical flirty comments as it comes out softer, a little hesitant, even. “You could come closer.”

You eye him, waiting for him to reveal his bluff. But his gaze remains steady, so you repeat his words back to him slowly as if you were trying to figure out which part he isn’t sincere about. “You want me to come closer?”

He chuckles. “Somebody’s nervous.” Josh lets his arms spread atop the row of pillows behind him, opening himself up to you. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he grins, “hard.” 

“Alright, pack it up, cornball,” you say, lifting up the comforter and scooting closer to him, stopping just an inch or two before your thigh touches his.

“You know you love it,” he says.

“Shut it, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you shoot back, reclining until your back meets his arm and the pillows it lies atop of. The hard muscle of his bicep contrasts with the plushness of the pillows, but it doesn’t make you any less comfortable, in fact, you like this position more than how you were earlier.

Being close to him, nearly in his arms, feels better than you expected. The warmth of his body and the steadiness of his breath conjure up a calm haze that settles over you like a spell. You work hard to stay focused and upright, wanting to finish the movie and talk to him some more. But you're exhausted, so as he's explaining the foreshadowing from the first act of the movie, you end up leaning into him, your head falling onto his shoulder and your hand onto his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but his arm shifts behind your back, and then his hand is on your head, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, everything around you fading out aside from the soothing feeling of his touch. 

“Sleepy?” he whispers down to you.

“Mhmm,” you mumble back. 

“Do you want to sleep in here tonight? It’s much warmer.”

“Can I?” you ask, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder. He’s just so comfortable, it would be so terrible if you couldn’t stay. 

“Of course you can,” he responds. You can hear the smile in his voice and it sends a small wave of warmth through your body.

You move your head so it rests on his chest, your fingers sprawled out just a bit lower, mindlessly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Staying awake is getting harder and harder as the gentle strokes on your head coax you to sleep, and eventually, you give in.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still curled up next to Josh, and he is still asleep. He has been going through a lot this past year, but as the light of dawn trickles through the window and onto his face, he looks the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

[biggestfyolaifan-moved]

yandere dazai or chuuya. i beg. maybe runaway reader? 👉👈

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˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

[yandere!dazai, chuuya, with runaway reader]

[warnings under cut + neutral reader]

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ღ ; note

HIHIHI LILIA THANKYOU FOR REQUESTING HONESLTY RUNAWAY READER IS MY FAVORITE THING EVER !! MY WRITING QUALITY COULD BE A LOT BETTER, I'M SO VERY SORRY!! THANK YOU!! I WROTE THESE TWO SEPARATELY^^ ALSO I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS BEHAVIOR IRL. THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL!!

ღ ; warnings

yandere behavior, kidnapping, implied drugging, killing, manipulating, that kinda stuff yk!!

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the night you escaped from the horrid place you were made to call home was freezing. the man, no, devil named chuuya was quick to lead you into his home. you had faint memories of the red-headed man sauntering behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder and offering you a walk home. the entire way your legs had gradually became weaker and weaker. almost.. numb.

your mind was dazed. chuuya sat next to you on a wooden bench, squeezing your hand comfortingly. it was hard to hear him speak clearly. the hand caressing your hair wasn't helping the fact your world was spinning about fifty times faster than it normally did.. which wasn't very fast. and before you knew it, you were pacing around a locked room, finally regaining your ability to walk after multiple days.

to your knowledge, chuuya was at work. it took days to memorize what time he came home, but it still wasn't perfect. he could come back at any time, completely unannounced. except usually, you could hear him arrive while you heard the loud motorcycle park outside the home. you had to be quick tonight.

even after fumbling with the loose lock and successfully opening the door, it was no surprise to you that the front door was.. also locked. two locks. a bobby pin wouldn't work in this situation, you needed something else.

sure, chuuya was smart enough to put a lock on the knife drawer, but he forgot about one little thing. a small, dull butter knife was in the sink. it wasn't dirty, but chuuya had forgotten to put it away. you thanked whatever gods there must have been, because now, it felt like only a higher deity could give you the miracle you just recieved.

both of the locks were difficult to get through, but the knife made it easier. and it was done, because there you stood, before the open door in the front yard. a sigh of relief managed to escape your mouth while you slid the knife in your waistband, making a run for it down the cold streets.

before you knew it, it was 11pm. just two hours after escaping from chuuya's home, it started to rain. wait, was that a person?

they emitted a reddish-orange glowing aura, could they also be an ability user? you stepped closer, and closer. the person faced away from you, but you were so close to them. they were oddly stiff, standing as if they were looking ahead at something.

but.. the body dropped.

the body lied on the floor. this was no ability user, no, no, this was the work of someone else. but.. how did the body stay upright? there was no way he just now died, it had to have been at least ten minutes.

a gloved hand harshly seized your shoulder. of course you recognized him. he knew you would come here. he must've been watching you.

chuuya didn't speak. you were almost paralyzed in distress. part of you was still terrified of the dead man you just saw, and the other was terrified of him. he had nothing to say to you, not until morning.

ღ ; song i listened to while writing: here

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losing you wasn't the first thing on dazai's mind until the night he lost you.

of course, he saw it coming. did you think escaping from him hadn't crossed his mind once?

looking back at it now, maybe it was stupid of you not to consider the risks of escaping. traps, cameras. anything. it was like this man had just about everything worked out perfectly, so if you messed it up in the slightest, it would all turn against you. all of your friends, all your family.

and it never occured to dazai's coworkers what it meant when he almost constantly checked the cameras at work, and abruptly got up in the middle of a meeting to go 'feed his pet goldfish'. he didn't even have a goldfish.

dazai didn't exactly panic when he saw you open up the doors on the cameras- he had already seen it coming.

and to your surprise, you didn't hear from dazai all day. no messages, calls, visits, anything. maybe it wasn't the best idea to return home, but your doors were locked anyway. even then, you still didn't feel safe in your own home.

the ultimate goal was to stay the night and then go to the police station to get this handled by someone with higher authority than yourself.

that was, if you made it through the night.

it was easy enough, right? no way dazai would find his way in, he didn't even have keys, nor did he know where your home was. did he?

of course he did. it was 4:32am, and brown hair dangled just a few inches above you. a cheery grin was spread across his face, but dazai wasn't happy with you, no, far from it. you never exactly believed in the phrase, "frozen with fear" until now.

and despite his grinning smile, the most unsettling things about dazai at the moment were his eyes.

the way he always pulled you close to him after attempts to run away from him was almost disturbing; the way he would brush your hair with his fingers and whisper things to you. "what did you think was going to happen, huh?"

the tall man was crouched, but still seemed to loom over you, even when you sat up. one arm wrapped around you and squeezed your hand, while he other hand kneaded at your scalp. his voice was quiet, and almost sweet.

"i got inside so easily, that's a safety hazard." dazai leaned in, resting his chin on the top of your head. you could feel him shakily smile while speaking once more, "see? you're a lot safer with me. you can't crawl to anybody else."

and he wasn't lying. almost everyone you knew was somehow, some way, acquainted with dazai. he was right. you couldn't crawl to anyone else.

ღ ; song i listened to while writing: here

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// i csnot it is 3:35am for me rn. i am deeply sorry to anyone who is bald because i wrote that the reader has hair, i will start writing bsd x bald reader for inclusivity

[andraxicated]

"I always feel like somebody's watching me~"

Pairings: mikey, sanzu, ran, wakasa, draken x f! reader

Synopsis: tokyo revengers men as your obsessive ex

Tags: fluff | obsessive/yandere themes | hurt-comfort if you squint | suggestive | toxic relationship

milestone event masterlist!

a/n: this was supposed to be bonten but I can't see some of them being obsessive ><

Dating him came with the comfort of assured safety. No one would dare cross 'his girl', they knew that if they did, death would follow them. And that assurance eased your worries about dating someone from that line of work, a world that you didn't even want to peek.

designer items, fine cuisine, private jet travels; you experienced all of those thanks to his endless love for his darling. you're someone he wants by his side, his pillar of support, his light in the darkness.

then it was all gone with just a few exchange of words. a 'healthy' breakup that both sides agreed to.

his obsession was definitely not healthy, you were his air. he needed it back.

Mikey

in the bright hours of the night, mikey is looking down, watching you and your date from a building away through a secret camera installed in your date's home before the both of you arrived.

he can't believe you're going on a date after breaking up with him. he hasn't even fucked some whores, yet you're here trying to get him off your mind. the poor taiyaki in mikey's hand gets its filling squeezed out; red beans and cream drip down his hand. he imagines it as the head of the guy who's now offering you wine, 'what an asshole'. mikey can't take it anymore, these coy smiles in between laughter make him sick. jealousy mixed in with his dark impulse was never a good mix.

"who's that?" your hand freezes when you're about to take a sip; continuous persistent knocking that somehow made your blood run cold. it's as if you know what's outside—or more like who's outside.

you put down the wine glass and say "I'll go get it, I think it's my friend." "friend? did you give them my address?" silence ensues because you don't know what to reply. the man then wipes his hands and goes to the door but you quickly get in his way. 'open that and you're dead'

"i'll get it. it's a bit embarrassing but i'm indebted to this friend. so please let us talk privately." you make up a quick lie that the man easily believed, nodding before he turned around.

your heels clack against the floor, your heart shaking to the core, then you open the door revealing the man who's cold, dead eyes you love. "mikey..." your voice barely a whisper as you shut the door behind you. going on a date definitely didn't work, your being longs for him even if you're drinking with another man.

mikey once again got a view of you looking so pretty, too bad that it wasn't for him. oh well, that leaves an awful taste in his mouth.

without any warning, he grabs you by the hair to push your lips forcefully to his and bites your lips which leaves a pleasurable pain. his strong body pushes you onto the door, leaving an audible bump on the other side.

"mikey! someone's inside, ughh" your words became moans as he keeps on nipping your bare skin. marking you as his, licking the soft skin, nose brushing until your legs give out.

his ministrations stop when he feels your pushing growing stronger. his eyes look down on your chest, purple and dark bruises appeared like splashes of art. the painter smirks, proud of his work while your hazy eyes take in the lovely sight of him smiling. wait, he's looking down at your chest?

something clicks and you attempt to go out of mikey's caged arms. "i need to go the bathroom." but mikey won't budge, revealing his teasing eyes reserved only for his baby.

"go inside." he speaks in a domineering voice that makes you stop fumbling. "what? I can't!" your scared voice is music to his ears, a submissive darling that has no choice.

"go inside or leave me with me, your choice baby." his voice together with his fingers playing with your hair does funny things to your tummy. either choice will leave your date in shambles anyway. 'pity he's such a good man', you actually feel bad but going on will embarrass him further.

so you chose to leave with the bad guy, his arms around you as he hides his triumphant smirk.

Sanzu

your shaking hands take the phone out of your pocket, cold fingers dialing the memorized number. it rings and rings but to no avail; you start feeling sinking despair as the ringing grows longer. "pick up please, please, please" a mantra of his name escapes as you pull your knees together, nails pressed to your lips out of habit.

you close your eyes and tell yourself it's gonna be alright, he's always there to save you, sanzu will always save you.

the ringing stops as he finally picks it up. "hellooo?" "sanzu!-" then you heard the anxiety-inducing laughter of women, noisy club music, and his drunk tone. it made you close your lips; why would you call him for help? didn't you break it up with him?

on the other side, sanzu gets worried about your cut-off response, if there's something that can snap him out of his high then it's you. he gets up from his couch, bringing a glass to his mouth until he recoils once he tastes the bitter liquid. 'fuck' "hey you! bring me a glass of water!" he instructs the waiter who bows and leaves.

"hello? (y/n)?" your silence makes him run his hand through his hair, a habit he picked up since you found it hot. "can you come over?" your quiet whisper somehow made it through his ear.

'fucking hell, your voice makes me so horny' sanzu wants to say but he can't, not when his danger instincts tell him that something is going on. "uhm...i guess, why?" he starts to pick up his discarded jacket, buttoning himself and chugging the glass of water. he packs up his knife and gun; checking the bullets as he listens to you. "after i got off work, there was a black van following me, so I kept on going to crowded places but now that I'm home...I'm scared because I think they're following me." you say as your breathing gets quicker, the stress of work and life catching up to you.

"okay, hide somewhere for now, i'll open the door and find you. alright?" "alright"

you stir and find out that you managed to fall asleep, brain still foggy yet you grab your phone that displays '1:30am', you check messages but there's nothing new.

sanzu opens the door with the key and takes in the dark apartment, neat and organized but cold. "(y/n)? it's me sanzu." he takes off the safety of his gun, but suddenly you come out of the bedroom.

messy hair, tired eyes, cheeks stained with dried tears; oh it felt so painful seeing you like that. he brings back the safety of the gun and tucks it onto his waist; long strides that reach you quickly as he presses your head to his chest.

"i'm so glad you're safe. are you hurt somewhere?" you both pull away to see each other and your eyes widen in shock at the blood dripping on the side of his face. "sanzu! blood-" "shhh, it's not mine. i'm okay." he tucks you back to his chest and it feels so safe, so comfortable; makes you want to fear nothing and just be with him.

sanzu realized something that night: that you only call for him when you're desperate, like someone who only prays when they're helpless. he's fine with that, as long as you're in his arms, he's fine with anything.

although, he may resort to making you feel helpless when he feels you're slipping away.

Ran

ran haitani who gets drunk in the afternoon, knocks at your front door, waiting for you to open and take pity on his state. maybe also take him back, but you don’t answer as minutes go by. he looks at his watch that says 10pm; maybe you're asleep, maybe you're having a hard time sleeping without him, maybe- the rain is just falling too hard.

he clenches his fist and bangs the door so fucking loud one last time. "it's me! ran haitani, your ex!" he shouts with his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. ran then turns around to shower in the rain, to cleanse him in his despair.

until you wring open the door with a large t-shirt on. "are you insane?!" ah, how ran misses your cute figure, your voice trying to sound mean but you can't because you care for him deeply.

"insane for you" his smirk shows up on his face before he comes running towards you, wet leather jacket heavy on his body until it becomes weightless when he hugs you.

"ran! get off!" "not without you" he pushes you both into the house, still hugging as you funnily walk backward with his hand on your back to support.

you squint your eyes from the annoyance of his innuendo; he woke you up from your sleep, he scared you half to death and dares to wet your nightclothes.

but you don't pull away. you know this will be the last time, you know what he came here for.

"why are you here" but you still ask for confirmation and ran replies "i just wanted to see you." liar.

"do you want to have closure? is that what you want?" "what?" he finally pulls away, taking the sight of your cold indifferent face. in the face of a gun, in a fight, in an escape from the police; ran haitani has never been scared, except when he sees your emotionless face.

suddenly, you take off your wet shirt, black bra and soft skin baring itself to him. he audibly gulps from your display of boldness, his mind on the brink of losing when he takes a look at your cleavage.

"go on, take off my underwear" your sultry voice is begging for him to fuck you, but ran is the master of self-control; the control you taught him and the one you're threatening to break.

"this is not what I came here for."

your eyes widen as you let go of his belt, ran is visibly disappointed by it but shakes it off because he has to set records straight.

"i didn't come to ask you for a closure sex." ran takes your hand in his, admiring the soft fingers that have never been sullied by blood. "i came to check on you since i heard from my men that they found an enemy group near your house. we think you're being followed." he explains why he came to your house; after the things you've done, the things you've said, he still cares. he still wants to protect you. he's not going to let you go.

when he heard this news at the office, his eyes darkened, his mind already formulating a plan on how to get rid of the disturbance, and how to protect you. he then remembers the smuggled exotic bird that sells for millions of yen, the one that sanzu wants to roast.

"yes, a cage and a bird. still taken care of, still has freedom but has to go back to the cage when playtime's over."

Wakasa

"thank you, but it's really okay if you stop walking me home." "i have to, even if we broke up i still want to make sure you're safe." wakasa pats your head as if on instinct, it then makes you two shift awkwardly because it's what he used to do back then.

he clears his throat and motions for you to go inside, to which you nod and bow. a bow replacing the cheek kisses you used to give him. wakasa watches your retreating figure; his ex girlfriend who he still treats as a friend.

people said it isn't normal if you guys are still friends after you broke up. it's either you still love each other or dated each other for the fun of it.

well, wakasa thinks that his love for you only grows bigger day by day. your absence and his longing mixed in, making him desperate to see you everyday. to touch you, to talk to you, to eat with you; he's so obsessed that he thinks he's going to go insane with only you on his mind.

hand in pockets, he walks away but takes a glance at the window where your bedroom is. the silhouette of you taking off garments is a sight he gets to see every night. he's thankful that you live in a private village but also remorseful from the distance of social class.

after another night of your ex walking you home, you turn on the lights of your room and question your haggard look in the mirror. you want to lie down and rest but you have to go entertain yourself a bit more.

you unbutton your blouse and take off your underwear before wrapping a towel around you. you run the water of the bathtub and just stare at it going up and up until filled to the brim. a thing you did when something's occupying your mind.

you don't know why but it feels like you can't say to wakasa you're going drinking with friends tonight. he has no right to prevent you from going out but his approval...still matters.

"wow, so you're the meaning of fashionably late." your friends tease you as you chuckle and sit down beside one of them. they immediately pour you a drink and place dishes of food near your side. you know this is a ploy to get you to move on; it's annoying but you'll humor them since you're in a mood to get wasted.

wasted it is, as you're now grinding on some unknown man behind you. wakasa would kill either you or your dance partner but he won't know what you're doing tonight anyway.

the moment your eyes lazily look up; you started feeling sorry and scared for the man you're dancing with. your body freezes while the man behind you just keeps on disgustingly grinding his crotch against your butt.

his lilac eyes hold so much contempt at the both of you. you'd think the bottle he's chugging could get chucked and hit straight at your heads.

then wakasa motions for you to go up with his index finger, he's not very happy with you tonight. he always tells you to not go anywhere without him yet you go here and disobey him.

he'd have to punish you; maybe take you away from your bad influence friends, tell your father what you're doing, or just humiliate you in this club tonight. nevertheless, he has to teach you a lesson.

Draken

draken who used you as a rebound but regretted it as soon as you left him. he just realized that it was such an asshole move; you and your good heart were thankfully okay with being friends.

you two are just sincerely friends, no feelings attached and no ulterior motives to the point where draken thought that you're better off just like this.

that was until he saw you going out of a store, arm-in-arm with a man who's around your age. you seemed to be having such a good time. he's so delusional that he thinks you're having a much better time with that man rather than in your relationship with him.

but he shakes them off; getting scared that he might actually be going insane from missing you. he feels like he can't breathe without you tucked in his arms. he's so anxious that he's gonna lose you too, so anxious that his past might harm you.

and so, draken grabs his jacket from the stand, gets his keys, and walks out the door to go and visit his ex.

the house is dark, no lights in sight from the outside; and then the old man next door who smokes sees draken. "young man, she's not there. got picked up by a guy in a fancy car"

no more words are needed as draken quickly jumps on his motorcycle, not even saying a thank you to the elder who helped him find you. he should blame you, you made him like this, like a fucking psycho who can't let go. stalking you, making you feel scared, then comforting you as if he's not the hooded figure you see at the corner of your eye.

you watch his retreating figure go smaller as you carefully go out of the old man's house. tears trickling down your cheeks while relief floods your veins when you took a breath of fresh air. the old man takes a look at your crying face; pity washing over him as he remembers a daughter of his.

"i suggest you move out. convince your mother and leave as soon as you can." he says with one last puff of smoke that goes out into the air.

your kind old neighbor soon passes away a few months after that; you wanted to go attend his funeral but you chose to heed his warning of not going back to that town. however, you can escape from that place but not to this guy.

your doorbell rang and you quickly got up from your bed, thinking about how unusual it is for your package to come so early. you touch the doorknob and pull it open; only to welcome a looming nightmare over you.

seeing draken's large figure and bloodshot eyes made your world spin. the feeling of blood draining from your head, dizziness, and quickening heart rate happened all at once.

"i missed you" his chilly voice echoed inside your home, your feet frozen on the mat while wishing you could shut the door in his face instead.

looks like you're following the old man as death came inside your home and held your lifeless frame.

[all-about-kyu]

Pairing: bunny!Jaemin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Rating: G

Warnings: hybrids

Word Count: 1.1k

Hybridverse Masterlist || Bunny!Jaemin Masterlist

ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈

Since early this morning Jaemin has been bouncing around your shared apartment so ready to go out for the day. He had the whole day planned out for your date. He told you to sleep in a little extra while he packed a lunch and a picnic blanket for the day. By the time you get out of bed he was already dressed and practically vibrating with excitement. His long grey ears flopping around whenever he turned around or bounced. You giggle when he starts pouting about wanting to go already. He had found a flower-filled valley just outside the city and told you he wanted to practice his photography some more with you as his focus. Your heart nearly melted when you heard his request. Luckily it was beautiful out and you had the perfect outfit planned, there was a slight breeze and you knew it would be a little stronger in a valley. When you return to your room after breakfast you pull a light-weight white flowy blouse and a pair of ripped blue jeans. Jaemin refused to tell you exactly where this valley was, he wanted most of the day to be a surprise, other than the photography and picnic. He never really drove, he had too much energy to stay calm when driving but today he insisted that he could do it. He was super smiley and giggly when you finally got to the car to head out.

“Baby,” he bounced, “hurry up I can’t wait to take pretty pictures of you with pretty flowers.”

He practically vibrated standing there, anxious to leave already. He’s speaking a mile a minute while waiting for you to get settled in the car and you just giggle at his adorable energy levels. It doesn’t take too long to get to the valley, Jaemin continued to ramble throughout the drive with no intentions of stopping any time soon. You smiled and interjected where you could which only added to his excitement. The moment he parked the car he practically dragged you out of the car. He just wanted to spend the day with you and make memories in any way he could. You told him that you would carry the blanket and basket but he wouldn’t let you. He carried everything no matter how many times you offered to carry even just the blanket. Eventually, he did cave and let you take the blanket and picnic basket, when you found a tree that provided nice shade you laid the blanket out and placed the basket on it.

“Don’t move!” Jaemin exclaimed, “That’s a really pretty picture.”

He fumbled with his camera bag for a while setting it up before aiming his camera at you. When he pulls back to look at the product you watch his face scrunch up and his foot start to thump against the soft grass. You move out of the position he asked you to freeze in and giggle when you make your way over to him. He starts nibbling at his lower lip trying to figure out why it didn’t turn out the way he wanted it. Leaning forward you place a kiss on his lips to get him to stop biting at the skin. You look down at the camera and can’t see why he’s so frustrated, it’s a good picture, a little dark maybe because of the shade from the tree but he can always adjust that in photoshop later.

“Jaem, why are you so upset about it? It’s a good picture, just brighten it up later when we get home.” you offer.

“But it’s not catching just how beautiful you look in my eyes. It was so perfect in my vision so why won’t it do it on the camera.” he pouted.

You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach when you heard why he was pouting, “Baby, just enjoy taking pictures, they’ll be beautiful no matter what you take pictures of.

You kiss the end of one of his ears before moving back to the blanket and making sure everything was settled. You eventually wander out further into the valley seeing all kinds of beautiful wild flowers as you explore. Jaemin was in the area as well and kept snapping pictures when he felt particularly inspired by a certain flower or plant he saw. You started collecting little white daisies you saw around and making a little bouquet with purple ones you found nearby. You were crouched down picking a few when you heard the shutter of his camera right by your ear. When you turn your head you see Jaemin just behind you with his camera focused on your hand that was filled with flowers.

“Good shot?” you ask, love flooding your tone.

“Beautiful, of course, anything you do becomes beautiful. Just because you’re the one doing it.” he flirts sweetly.

When you stand up you wrap your arms around his waist in a hug, he wraps his arms around you as well. He starts to involuntarily twitch in your hold showing that he was happy. When you pull back you offer the small bouquet you made to him. He looks at you with confusion tilting his head slightly to emphasize his emotion.

“It’s for you.” you smile, “I found white daisies, I know how much you love the colors white and yellow and these are cute just like you. The purple ones are just pretty and I thought you’d like them.”

Jaemin giggles and blushes slightly at your explanation. He takes the flowers from you and kisses your forehead showing his appreciation in a small way. You start walking around again exploring any area you can but quickly turn around when you hear Jaemin gag. You can’t help but laugh when you see what happened. Jaemin had taken one of the flowers from the small bouquet you made and decided to eat it. When he looks at you he pouts immediately and tries to defend himself.

“I just thought that maybe I would like how flowers taste! After all I’m a bunny hybrid, actual bunnies eat flowers and clovers all the time! It’s their diet!” he pouts.

“Jaem, baby, you’re mostly human.” you giggle, walking back over to your boyfriend, “I love how adorably curious you are but you can’t just eat flowers like an actual rabbit would.”

Your bunny hybrid boyfriend keeps pouting and whining about his absolutely horrible experience eating a daisy. When you get back to your small picnic blanket under the tree, he digs through the basket to find a water bottle he packed and chugs the whole thing claiming there were still remnants of daisy in his mouth. You just smile lovingly as he whines about tasting flowers until he gets some actual food in his mouth. You rest your head on his lap and have pointless conversations for a while just enjoying each other’s company.

ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈ ✿ ꕤ ❀ ⚘ ᪥ ❈

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @nct-writers @neoturtles @kwritersworld @k-vanity​ @neowritingsnet​

Tag List: @daystiny @staysstrays @raibebe @catscoffeeandkpop @notbeforelong @ericssmile @bluejaem @00solarsmiles @cloudnitee @baekhyunstruly @umbralhelwolf @vanishingboots @brattybunfornct @neoculturesnoopy @furryllamas @meowniee @mhyori1117 @pandabunbuns @justanotherkpopstanlol

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[celestial-kit]

When He Sees Me

Pairing: Kirishima x f!reader

Warning: NSFW, Minors DNI, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Penetration, Just general sex I guess

As a waitress in a diner, it wasn’t uncommon to have regular patrons. You often saw a group of nurses come in for mimosas and pancakes after finishing a night shift, a pair of retired old men who set up a small, mobile tv to watch old movies while slowly eating their lunch, and a gaggle of grumpy middle aged women who always tip you with spare change and life advice. One regular that you always look forward to seeing is Pro-Hero Red Riot. He started coming by the diner a few months ago, looking for a quick meal after finishing a long patrol and, even though you could tell he was tired, he greeted you with a big, toothy grin and introduced himself as Kirishima.

Since that first night, he started regularly eating dinner at the diner every Monday, always sitting at the same table in the back of the restaurant and always looking so happy to see you. He took the time to ask how you were doing, he was patient and kind when you were having a particularly busy shift, and he always tipped very well. He was, undoubtedly, your favorite customer.

This Monday, you were surprised to see that Kirishima wasn’t alone when he walked into the diner. Standing next to him was Pro-Hero Dynamight, wearing his signature scowl as he looked at you with annoyance. You had to admit, you were a little frightened to see him in person. He was rather intimidating and it was a stark contrast to Kirishima’s disarming nature. 

Kirishima saw you freeze as his best friend gave you a death glare. He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned down and gave you a sympathetic smile, “Don’t mind him, he gets hangry. Can we have my normal table?” 

“Sure!” You squeak nervously. You grab two menus for the large men and quickly walk them back to their table. After they’ve taken their seats, you whip out your notepad and pen. “Can I start you with something to drink?” 

Kirishima gives you a smile as he looks up into your eyes. “I’ll just have water. How’s your night been?” 

You can feel your cheeks warming up at his attention. He was always so genuine when he spoke to you, with his head resting on his fist and looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. You meet his eye contact and tuck some hair behind your ear as you reply. “It’s been good. A little slow, but that just means I have more time to read between tables.”

His eyebrows rise at that. “Oh? What are you reading?” You open your mouth to respond, but you’re interrupted by a cough next to you. You turn your head and see Dynamight with his arms crossed and his death glare now focused on Kirishima. You quickly realize that you never took his drink order. 

“I’m so sorry! What can I get you to drink?” You respond hastily. Without looking at you, he grumbled a low “Water” and you left to get their drinks. As you came back, you could see them both leaning over the table and whispering about something.

“Just tell her, idiot,” Dynamight whispered loudly to Kirishima as you set their water on the table. 

“Tell me what?” You ask, innocently looking at Kirishima. His face went almost as red as his hair as he waved his hands in front of him. 

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it,” he laughed as he looked pointedly at his blonde friend. Dynamite groaned at this, clearly annoyed with this interaction.

“If you don’t tell her, I will. I’m sick of you talking about it all the time,” he crossed his arms again and looked at Kirishima with an eyebrow raised, daring him to take on his challenge. Kirishima looked horrified for a split second before he looked at you and ultimately looked away, a soft blush painting his cheeks as he started to speak.

“I have a little crush on you,” he admits, making Dynamight snort. Kirishima frowned at his friend before he continued, “Ok, it’s not little. I think you’re beautiful and you’re all I can think about. Can I take you out sometime?” He finally looked up at you, hopeful and nervous after his confession. You stared at him with your mouth agape as your face started burning up. You were shocked that he felt this way, but you weren’t displeased. You always thought that Kirishima was handsome and you loved the brief amount of time you got to spend with him each Monday. 

As you tried to wrap your mind around the situation, you could see Kirishima’s face fall. You realize that it had been a minute and you still hadn’t responded to his question. “Yes! Of course, I’d love to! Are you free Friday?” 

Kirishima’s face brightens at this, excitedly saying, “Really? Yeah, let’s do Friday!” He stands up with a big grin on his face, raising his hand to high-five his friend, and starts to walk out of the diner, with Dynamight following closely behind. You gawk at them as they push the door open to walk out onto the sidewalk. 

“Wait! Aren’t you forgetting something?” You giggle as the redhead turns around, looking as if he had an epiphany and starts walking back to where you're rooted at his table.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs sheepishly as he pulls out a large bill from his wallet and places it on the table, presumably to pay for the water that neither of them drank. 

You blink before you push the bill back into his hand and say, “No, don’t you need my phone number?” 

Kirishima blinks back at you and nods, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to you as a fresh blush paints his cheeks. You giggle again as you input your number, acutely aware of Kirishima staring over your shoulder, his large frame invading your space. You hand his phone back to him with a dizzy smile, his hand brushing yours as he takes it from you. 

Kirishima meets your eyes and flashes you another smile, “I’ll text you!” And then he was out the door, meeting up with his scowling friend and walking away from the diner.

_

Kirishima did, in fact, text you. During the days leading up to your date, you spent every spare moment you could texting each other, updating each other throughout the day of what you were doing and texting late into the night, getting to know each other. You also swapped photos back and forth, nothing raunchy, just little snapshots of your day. You would send photos of you curled up with your cat, cooking dinner, drinking wine. He would send photos of himself at the gym, walking with Dynamight, and showing himself looking bored as he filled out paperwork. 

One picture in particular had your mouth going dry and your stomach doing flips. Around midday on Wednesday he sent you a picture of him sitting on top of a criminal, pinning him to the ground with one hand on the back of his head, the selfie taken at an angle above Kirishima’s head and showed off the sweat stuck to his brow as he grinned proudly at the camera. You zoomed in on the picture, admiring his pectoral muscles and chiseled abs, imagining how it might feel to have him pin you down like that. You texted back a simple “Be careful!” before rushing to the restroom in the diner to splash cold water on your face. 

When Friday came, you were eager to see Kirishima. It had been a while since you had been on a date, so you took your time getting ready, sipping on a chilled glass of wine to calm your nerves. The restaurant you agreed to meet at was close to your apartment, so you knew you could walk there and didn’t need to worry about driving. When you arrived, you could see Kirishima already at a table, wearing a simple white button down tucked into black slacks. A few buttons were undone at the top of his shirt, showing off his pecs and some of the black hair that littered his chest.

When he saw you walking up, he broke out in a massive grin, standing up and wrapping you in a warm hug, landing a quick kiss on your cheek. He pulled away, still grinning, to pull out your chair for you to sit down. Your cheeks were burning red from the affection as you sat down and said, “Thank you.”

Kirishima sat across from you and took the time to look you up and down as you started perusing the menu. His gaze swept across the gentle features of your face, admiring the curve of your lips which was accentuated with your lipgloss, and continued to move his gaze down past your exposed neck to land on your cleavage. Your dress loosely fits your curves, and he can’t help but stare. 

The rest of your evening seemed like a blur, you and Kirishima falling into a rhythm of talking, laughing, and drinking. Together you share a bottle of wine, various appetizers, and, at one point, shots of tequila. You were feeling warm and giggly from the booze and the company, it felt nice. Under the table, Kirishima had kicked out his long legs and intertwined them with yours, playing footsie as he looked at you dreamily. The waiter eventually interrupts you to ask if you would like dessert. You and Kirishima share a look before he declines the waiter's offer. As Kirishima pays the bill, you reach across the table to graze your fingers over his knuckles, gently asking, “Want to have dessert at my place?” 

Kirishima’s hungry, red eyes meet yours at your suggestion and he simply nods before throwing some money on the bill and grabbing your hand to pull you out of the restaurant. You lead the way down the street, walking swiftly with Kirishima’s hand on your back, keeping you close. When you get into your apartment elevator, Kirishima doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and crash his lips to yours. It feels as if the events of the week have been leading up to this moment, and the release of tension between the two of you has you moaning into his lips. 

The elevator ride is short, and you’re pulling away from him before you really want to to lead you both to your apartment door. You fumble with your keys as Kirishima holds onto your hips, pressing his chest to your back and laying soft, wet kisses to your neck. When your door finally swings open, Kirishima is quick to turn you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as he can while he bullies his tongue into your mouth. He blindly kicks your door shut and starts walking you backwards into your apartment, practically lifting you off the ground to keep your mouth glued to his. When he pulls back for air, he can’t help but groan when he sees your disheveled state. You hair is a mess from his hands wandering in it in the elevator, you dress is pulled down dangerously low, exposing more of your cleavage with one strap falling off your shoulder, and your bruised lips are agape as you look at him with glassy eyes.

“You know, I think I changed my mind. I do want dessert,” he states simply before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and walking through your apartment, searching for your bedroom. You take this opportunity to attack his neck, doing your best to leave your mark on him while your hands fist in his hair. 

Before you can do too much damage, you are dropped unceremoniously on your bed, startling your cat who was sleeping peacefully on your pillow. “Sorry buddy,” Kirishima mumbles without looking at the animal, too focused on running his hot hands up your thighs and under your dress. He wraps his strong fingers around the edges of your underwear, pushing his thumb into the fabric at your crotch and feeling how you’re already soaking through your underwear and wetting his thumb. He brings his hand back to examine the glistening digit briefly before sticking it in his mouth and sucking your essence off it, his eyes meeting yours as you gasp his name. 

He frowns at the use of his surname. “Call me Eijiro,” he says gruffly.

His tone and intense stare warm you up, turning your cheeks red and filling your stomach with butterflies. “Eijiro,” you moan, as he goes back to rubbing you through your underwear. 

“Good girl,” he smirks at you. Then you hear a ripping noise and you realize that your underwear is now just a limp piece of fabric being tossed behind Kirishima’s shoulder.

“Eijiro!” You exclaim, shocked that your favorite pair of panties are completely destroyed.  Kirishima just laughs at you.

“Don’t worry, precious. I’ll buy you a new pair.” Then he was leaning in and swiping his tongue across your wet heat, making you gasp at the contact. He uses his big hands to push your dress up past your hips and bury his tongue inside your pussy, thrusting in and out and drinking your essence as you moan his name and grab fistfuls of his hair. 

His hot tongue works its way up to your clit, circling it as he moans against you, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He brings one hand down from your hips and slowly works a finger inside you while you hiss at the stretch. His hands are so big, like everything else about him, and if you weren’t so wet then the intrusion might have hurt. He starts working this finger inside you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace and curling to hit that spongy spot inside you each time. His attention on your clit persists, making you whimper, and soon you can hear the loud squelching noises of his finger moving inside you while you sucks and licks at your clit. 

When he pushes a second finger in, you let out a loud moan, throwing your head back and doing your best to buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. He groans against you and uses his one hand on your hip to halt your movements, holding you in place while he starts pistoning his fingers into you. You feel tears beading at your eyes as you start heading towards a familiar cliff.

“Oh god, Eijiro!” you gasp as you near your peak.

Kirishima pulls back briefly, “Cum for me, honey. You can do it. Cum on my fingers.” His fingers don’t relent and his mouth goes back to abusing your clit as you let out a pitiful sob, gushing around his fingers and clamping down on him. He works you through your orgasm, your quiet cries spurring him on as he continues to slowly push his fingers into you. 

Eventually, he pulls away, kissing up your body and dragging your dress with him until it is over your head and on the floor. He leans down to place a kiss on your lips while he grabs your breasts and flicks your hardening nipples with his thumbs. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue and then your pushing at his shoulders so that he’s hovering over you. Before he can say anything, you grab at the edges of his shirt and pull to try to pop the buttons off his shirt. It doesn’t work, so you try again, but still fail. 

You pout at his indestructible shirt and he laughs at you again. Then, he sits up and grabs the edges where you had and rips the buttons open himself. You gasp as he shucks the ruined material from his shoulders with a cocky smirk and you reach up to run your hands over his newly exposed chest, admiring the way black hair is scattered across his chest and leads down his abs to below his belt. Your mouth starts to water at the idea of what his pants might be hiding, so you sit up with him to start laying kissing on chest and stomach while your hands work his belt open. 

When he’s finally free from his confines, you can’t help but gasp at his size, your eyes widening as you take him in. 

He’s thick and long, the weight of him causing his length to fall despite him being fully hard. The black hair that you admired on his torso is neatly trimmed around the base of his cock, which sits directly atop his full, round balls. You clench your thighs together at the idea of him filling you up. Part of you doesn’t think he’ll fit, but another, more excited, part of you is eager to try.

You tentatively wrap a hand around the base of his cock, looking up at him through your tear stained lashes for approval. His hand reaches down to fist your hair, nodding and pulling your face closer to him. You bring your other hand up to wrap around him as well and you poke your tongue out to give him kitten licks around his head. He groans and tightens his hand in your hair, thrusting his hips a little, wiping his head and smearing precum along your cheek. You sit up on your knees for better leverage and bend down to wrap your lips around his head, feeling his fist tighten again as he starts dragging your mouth along his cock. 

Kirishima knows he’s big, he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s gentle as he fucks your face. When he starts hitting the back of your throat and tears start spilling down your cheeks, his other hand comes up and he uses his thumbs to wipe them from your face and cradle your cheek, feeling the way his length fills your cheeks. 

His moans are loud, he wants you to know how good you’re making him feel. He tells you things like You’re doing so good, baby and You’re taking my cock so well. When his moans get louder, you think he’s going to cum, so you twist one hand at the base of him and use your other hand to hold and squeeze his balls. Right when you expect him to finish down your throat, he’s using your hair to pull you back, looking down at your tear stained face while his chest heaves up and down from the effort of holding off his orgasm.

“Don’t want to cum yet. I wanna fuck you,” he says, pushing your shoulders until your back hits the bed. You nod your head like a woman possessed while he kicks his pants off and pulls a condom out of his pocket. You want to tell him not to worry about it, you’re on birth control, but you understand that as a Pro-Hero he may want to take certain precautions. Next time you think to yourself as he rolls the latex down his length and lines himself up with your leaking hole. 

When he pushes in, you gasp at the burn of it, and new tears start rolling down your cheeks as he continues to push his monster length inside you. Kirishima knows it probably hurts, but he ignores your weak cries of Wait, you’re too big because he knows that the best way for the pain to stop is to just push through it. When he’s fully seated inside you, he just sits there, leaning down to kiss the tears from your face as you sob weakly. You want him to fuck you, but the stretch of him is making you clamp down so hard that he’s unable to move from his spot inside you.

“Relax, baby. You gotta stop clenching,” Kirishima says through gritted teeth. He looks as if he’s in pain, too.

“I can’t,” you say. “You’re too big, Eiji. I can’t do it.” You let out another broken sob, wishing your body would listen to what you wanted. Kirishima didn’t say anything, he just leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth again and making out with you to distract you from the pressure of his length inside you. His lips moving against yours have you warming up again, and you can feel yourself flutter around his length, your wetness giving him enough lubricant to slowly pull out and push back in at a shallow pace. 

When you start moaning at this action, Kirishima takes this as a cue that you’re feeling good, you want more. He leans back from kissing you and grabs the backs of your thighs, pushing your legs up and close to your chest, and starts fucking you faster and harder. You cry out at the new angle, watching him as he watches his cock disappear inside of you, his mouth hanging open as he releases long, loud moans. When he looks at your face, he smirks.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He asks, continuing his brutal pace. You nod your head, holding his eye contact and reaching up to play with your breasts, tugging on your nipples and moaning out his name. He grunts at your display, pushing himself harder into you and reaching down to swipe fast circles around your clit. 

You can feel that coil tightening again in your stomach, nearing your second orgasm of the night as Kirishima’s hips increase in speed. You start to feel delirious from the pleasure, drooling and babbling about how good he feels, how he’s so big, how you’re so close to cumming again.

“Yeah, baby? You want to cum again?” Kirishima asks lowly, trying to contain himself as you writhe beneath him.

“Yes, yes! Please Eijiro, I want to cum!” Your head is thrown back and you know you won’t last as the head of his cock hits your g-spot over and over and over.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock, I want to feel you.” Kirishima encourages you, and you listen to him. You arch your back and let out a wail you didn’t know you were capable of as you cum all over his cock, clamping down on him again and holding him in place as he groans at your tight walls. As you’re coming down from your high, Kirishima pushes your legs closer to your chest and fucks you faster and harder than he had all night, chasing his own high. You gasp and watch him as he grunts and groans and moans your name unashamedly, drowning in pleasure. 

You moan at the feeling of him dragging inside your wet walls, and you tell him how bad you want him to cum. You tell him you wish he could cum inside you, you want him to fill you up until your dripping cum. It’s too much for Kirishima as he hastily pulls out with a loud groan, ripping the condom off his fat cock and fisting himself until he’s cumming all over your breasts and stomach. 

You gaze up at the man above you, his head thrown back as he tries to catch his breath, his length softening in his hand, and you think that he’s beautiful. He looks down at you, sees you covered in his seed, and gives you a shy smile. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

You giggle a little, “It’s ok, I like it.” You smile up at him and rub your hand through his cum on your stomach. He groans again and then leans down to give you a long, wet kiss before leaving the bed to look for a towel. After cleaning up, it doesn’t take long before you’re climbing under the covers, cuddling against Kirishima’s chest as his soft snores lull you to sleep. 

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?"  The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?"  Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of  Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

[solesommerso]

Mess | Deacon Kay x Dan Hondo Harrelson

Summary: things get rough when your husbands keeping something from you and your pseudo kid gets involved

A/n: use of ‘rain’ requested by @satan-incarnate-666, thank you for the ask <3. This is set in season 3 after street “quits” but before the team find out what actually is going on

Genre: angst

Warnings: crying

~

Deacon sighs as he checks his watch for the fifteenth time in what feels like two minutes, still eleven pm, still an hour past when Hondo was supposed to be home and still making Deacons mind reel.

The past week has been a whirlwind of Street quitting, Hondo suddenly getting distant, him not coming home on time, not even looking David in the eye when he brings up Street no longer working with them. Deacon knows all too well that the younger officer was more than just a teammate to his husband but watching him hurt so bad about it is more painful than Deacon thought it would be.

“Sorry I’m late, got caught up with something.” Hondo strips his soaked jacket off quickly, the rain drenching his whole figure and making a puddle appear under his boots.

“You’ve said that three times this week.” Deacon doesn’t mean to start off so hostile but he worried and has never seen Hondo act like this so he has no idea what to think.

“I know, I’m sorry. My heads just a mess right now.” Deacon hums, he can see in his partners eyes that there’s something he’s not sharing.

“Have you talked to Street?” And there’s that expression of pure pain that Deacon hates more than anything.

“Uh- no. I haven’t.” It feels like a lie.

“Dan if somethings going on I need you to tell me.” Deacon moves forward, taking Hondos cold hand in his own, squeezing and silently praying he gets an actual answer this time.

“Like I said, my heads a mess. That’s all.” David sighs again, he knows it’s not all there is to Hondos distance.

“Don’t do that, come on Deac.” Hondo pleads when Deacon takes his hand away and walks over to the couch he was resided on before his spouse got home.

“You’re lying to me.” He blurts, watching how Hondos eyes drop to the floor.

“I can’t tell you what’s going on.” David urges his tears away and looks over to the picture on the mantle, it’s Hondo, Deacon and Street, they’re standing with their backs to the camera and all have a ‘Harrelson’ hoodie on. Chris took it without their knowledge and Dan almost sobbed at it, he’s yet to take it down.

“Is he safe?” Deacon isn’t dumb and know this has to do with Street, there’s nobody else Hondo would keep a secret for.

“I don’t know Deac, he’s- he says he is but I don’t know.” The anguish in Hondos voice makes Deacon turn his head, there’s tears rolling down Hondos cheeks that he’s not even bothering hiding.

“Please tell me what’s going on.” David stands, not yet stepping forward but hoping Hondo understands what he’s trying to show.

“I can’t, I would but I can’t. I’m sorry.” Hondo ducks his head down, wiping at his tears, shifting on his feet in a way that makes Deacon think about Street, they have the same habits.

“I know how you think of James and I think of him the same, but if he’s in trouble we need to help him.” David can’t fathom letting the kid get hurt even if they both know how capable Street is when it comes to taking care of himself.

“There’s nothing we can do Dave. I’m helping the best I can but it’s not enough. I don’t think Street knows what to do either.” Deacon walks back to Hondo, taking in the shaking frame of his husband and catching how his hand fumbles with his wallet. There’s more than one picture of them all folded in there, he keeps it on him at all times.

“Just be there, help our kid.” Deacons arms go around Hondos shoulders, ignoring the freezing rain water still stuck to his husbands skin, closing his eyes when sobs start to shatter through Hondos whole body and leave him limp against David’s frame.

[vibraniumwing]

wildest dreams.

a steve rogers x fem!reader wherein the reader falls in love with the super soldier who can’t seem to let go of the past. 

WARNING: angst, one-sided relationships, set four years after the snap. 

A/N: hello !!! this is the first marvel fic i’m posting and i am very nervous about it aha. i hope all of you would like it though !! i’m kind of back into the flow of things for writing (since im on a one week break from school) but im still trying to maneuver through it. this is inspired by wildest dreams; complementary tissues are here if needed.

word count: 3.7K.

---

Your attitude died the same day your little brother turned to dust in your arms four years ago. The fear and pain his face had was burned into the back of your mind, haunting you on a daily basis; his cries echoing in your head.

But things seemed to change when your aunt introduced you to the talks the remaining Avengers had weekly for the people who were still struggling with the sudden loss of their loved ones; seeing and meeting people who were going through the similar struggle as you helped a lot in coping with the eternal torture that you had. 

That’s when you met him; the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. Steve Rogers. 

---

“How come you’ve only started going to these meetings after four years?” Kenzie, a girl who’s a few years younger than you asked, causing everyone in the meeting circle to look at you. Your eyes widened at the sudden question, feeling a slight tinge of pink creep up on your cheeks at the attention you’ve gained. 

You bit your lower lip as you contemplated whether or not to answer the question, “I- I had a hard time accepting my brother’s gone since he's my only family. I locked myself up for the last four years, rarely talking to anyone until my aunt forced me to get into these types of things and well now I go here whenever my days get really bad. I had to move on somehow.” You answered, tone laced with truthfulness, giving her a small smile. 

“Well we’re both glad and proud you’re here and that you’ve decided to move on from what happened.” Steve spoke up, making everyone look at him, including you. His blue eyes peering into yours, giving you a small nod which you reciprocated, the eye-contact causing the others words of agreement and encouragement to be drowned out. 

The rest of the meeting flew by as normal as the superhero continued to talk about how everyone should move on from what happened一  accompanied with the occasional stolen glances Steve gives you一 and soon enough, everyone was giving each other hugs and bidding their goodbyes until the next meeting.

You were grabbing your jacket when someone tapped your shoulder, looking back you saw the super soldier look at you with a somewhat nervous glint in his eyes, “You’re Y/N, right?” He asked, showing you a small grin as he pushed his hands inside of his pocket. 

“You have the right person, Mr. Rogers.” You answered, unsure of why he would suddenly come up to you.  It didn’t even take you a second to register the rather homey smell of laundry detergent and a hint of a manly perfume you couldn’t put a name on that he sported. 

“I’ve been seeing you a lot in these sessions一 I, I was wondering if you would like to go grab some dinner sometime?” He asked awkwardly, unsure of how to sentence the thoughts that were inside his mind. 

Your eyebrow quirked at the male who was normally eloquent and sure of his words, is now fumbling over how to ask you out for dinner but who were you to say no to such a rare opportune to spend some time with the male, “I… I would love to.” 

And that was the start of it all. 

--- 

At first he was worried about the situation the both of you had, fearing that you might be hated for once the word goes out to the public that you were dating him so you compromised, telling him that no one has to know what the both of you do; that it was okay for him to keep you as his secret, admitting that all of this gave you a thrill.

Until eight months later, Steve had finally said he had enough of hiding and offered to take you to the Avengers compound where he introduced you to the rest of the heroes who were working hard to keep everything intact after the tragic event that happened a little well-over four一almost five一 years ago.

“Steve, do you think they liked me?” You had asked him, eyes trained to the ground as the both of you walked around the Facility, hands tucked behind your back as the cool air of the setting sun wafted around the both of you. There was silence on his end before he spoke up, “Nat wouldn’t have choked on her drink at that joke you made if she didn’t.” 

You looked up at him, a hopeful smile adorning your lips, “So does that mean I’m accepted here, then?” It was kind of ridiculous to ask that question after hearing him just say that Natasha laughed at your joke, but all he did was nod and wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in. 

“Even if they didn’t, they have no choice. You’re stuck with me.”

The mere memory made you smile as you drove into the facility, having the intention of surprising him with a gift you had made him; a painting of the first photo you two took together, at Time Square.

You and Steve were on another spontaneous road trip; he was free for the day and had asked you to accompany him to drive around New York and before you could even decline, he was already knocking at your apartment door, ready to pick you up. 

The day was filled with quiet laughter as you introduced him to newer music and those timeless masterpieces that he missed out on during his 70 year freeze. “I can’t believe you don’t listen to Queen! That band is a whole icon!” You called him out as you started to play Bohemian Rhapsody in the background. “I’m introducing you to the basics.” 

“Hey I don’t have as much free time as you, you know.” Steve said, stepping on the gas as you two finally entered the rather empty streets of Times Square. 

Your day was filled with laughs and banter as you continued to introduce him to newer songs, occasionally playing some older tunes that he could enjoy himself and talked about how his life was before he was dunked into the ice. “Must’ve been a real hard time for you to grasp on to everything suddenly being so modern.” You commented, looking up from your phone to give him a small smile. 

“Oh trust me, it gave me quite the shock waking up to see everything so… new and foreign. But I had to learn一adapt even to what happened.” He started off, slowing down the car for him to look up at the large skyscrapers. “I had to move on or else I would still be miserable until now.” He said, tongue clicking at the top of his mouth. 

The car came into a full stop making you look at him in confusion. “Why’d you stop the car?” But he didn’t answer, instead he got out and jogged around the car to open the door for you. You stepped out, brows still furrowed. “We didn’t have the luxury to take that many photos back in the day and I would regret it if I didn’t have one with you.” He said, rubbing the nape of his neck. 

Breaking out into a smile, you agreed almost instantly and pulled your phone out, quickly opening the camera. “This is a selfie, alright?” You said, not forgetting to tease him, earning you an eye roll from the male. “I’m not that outdated!” he retorted, pulling you into him as he motioned you to take the photo. 

You were snug in his arms as you put the phone up, “To more memories with you, Captain.” 

You were all smiles the moment you parked your car and grabbed the canvas from the trunk, heading inside the compound where Nat instructed you to go around when you bumped into Rhodey who was quick to recognize you, “Hey you’re Cap’s girl, right?” which made you shake your head hesitantly, causing the other to look at you with a bamboozled expression. “What do you mean ‘no’?” 

“Well, Steve hasn’t asked me out officially but that’ll change soon enough. I made him this gift and will actually ask him. A bit odd I know, but if neither of us would make a move then this would probably drag on.” You confessed, grinning at the soldier excitedly who now had an amazed expression on his face. “Alright then. He’s in the office with Romanoff so knock yourself out.”

You were nearing the office when you overheard the conversation between assassin and Steve. 

“So when are you officially going to ask Y/N out?” The female asked, making your heart race in anticipation and hope that he might actually ask you to be his soon. However, the quietness that followed made your excitement go down and your heart to drop to your stomach; the giddiness you were feeling was replaced with worry as negative thoughts started to infiltrate your mind. 

A sigh was finally heard from the other end, “Nat, I haven’t been completely honest with you. I… I don’t think I ever will.” The latter started off, heaving another sigh as a shuffle of feet was resonating through the quiet room. “It’s just… Y/N’s a great girl you know? I thought I could love her but she’s一 she’s not like Peggy.”

You could hear Nat scoff lightly, probably in disapproval, “Then why’d you lead her on like this? That’s an asshole move from you, Steve.” and you couldn’t agree more. Your mouth was held over your mouth as you tried your best not to make any sound, wanting to hear more from his side before you make your presence known; in foolish hopes that he might be able to move on and be with you instead. 

“I… I honestly don’t know how to bring it up to her. She seems so happy with me and I don’t have the heart to tell her I don’t like her the same way she does with me.” He answered, voice laced with regret and guilt that he made you believe in something that wasn’t even possible in the first place.

That’s when your dreams of being with him was shattered; the visions you had of being in a family with him and living the rest of your days together were turned into dust. You were aware of the history Steve had with the woman; how he met her before subsequently falling into the ice that would freeze him. He made you feel so loved and convinced you that what you were feeling was reciprocal to his but you were wrong. 

So damn wrong. 

Suddenly, the promises he made of being with you until time permits became a blur to you, those late night talks of imagining what could happen if he and the others were to save the world and him bringing back your younger brother seemed like a far-fetched dream which shattered you even more. 

So with every strong fiber that you had left within you, you re-emerged from your hiding spot and looked at the two heroes, Steve being the first one to see you, the color from his face drained. “Y/N I could expl一” 

“Save it. Delete my name from your contacts, Rogers. I’m sorry I was foolish enough to think you would like me.” You told him, walking over to where he was to give the painting you worked so hard on, shoving it into his hands and mustering up the courage to look at him again. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I couldn’t be your best girl.” 

And then you ran, pretending not to hear him calling out for you; you ran all the way to the parking lot and by the time you could lean onto the door of your car, you were breathless and choking on the tears you fought hard to not spill but it was all too much. 

As you drove away, a part of you hoped he ran after you but you were foolish enough to even hope so because he never did.

---

You sat by the window of your brother’s room, looking out into the empty streets of Manhattan. After the incident with Steve, you were left to fend for yourself again and it left you feeling lonelier than ever. He never contacted you, not even once after everything the two of you have been through. It seems like you were just a memory that was easy for him to forget. 

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes once again when you heard something swoosh from the other side of the room. Snapping your head to the side, you could see something or someone form from dust and that’s when you realized it was your younger brother. 

Rising to your feet, you sprinted over to where he was, “Xavier?” You whispered, choking up on tears as your little brother’s doe eyes looked up at you in disbelief and fear. He was only five years old when he disappeared into nothing and it looks like he hasn’t aged even a day. His arms immediately sprung up to ask for your embrace to which you complied with. 

You scooped the toddler up in your arms and hugged him tightly, fearing he might disappear again. Then you heard it, the streets outside were filled with screams of confusion and terror as people started forming again one by one, chaos ensuing outside of your quiet home; but you were tranquil, because you knew Steve had kept his promise of giving you your brother back, of making everyone else return. 

---

It's been a good week since everyone has gone back, people still trying to process everything that has happened. Families were and still are reconnecting, businesses and government officials are trying to get a hold of things together. 

Your life was slowly going back to normal. Your little brother was back meaning the small house you live in is starting to be filled with joyous laughter again as the little tyke's energy was bursting at the seams. 

You and your aunt watched as Xav played with the teddy bear she got for him upon her visit, "Everything seems so much lighter with the little troublemaker around, isn't it?" She asked, glancing at you as she continued to knead the dough of the cookies she's making for you and your brother. 

"It definitely is. Suddenly this place feels like home aga—" Your sentence was cut in the middle when a loud knock came from your door making your brows furrow. 

"Oh were you expecting anyone?" Your aunt asked, you shook your head in response but before you could answer her your brother's voice resonated through the house. "I'll get it!" but what you expected next was the last thing you could have ever expected. 

“Y/N! It’s- It’s Captain America!” Xavier’s voice was a pitch higher due to his excitement upon seeing the superhero then his laughter soon followed. Your aunt gave you a surprised yet knowing look, motioning you to go to the door. “You better go and ask the man what he wants from you. I’m not listening to your excuses, go.” 

You knew better than to argue with the woman so you slowly made your way to the front door where you saw Steve who sported a few wounds to his face carrying your little brother, his smile wide as he answered questions the child asked. “I think Cap has had enough questions to answer, Xav. Go back inside.” You told him, much to the five year old’s dismay. 

“But Y/N! I haven’t asked一” “I’ll be back later to answer those okay? Go listen to your sister.” Steve was the one to answer now, setting Xavier down and patted his head. He gave the super-soldier a thumbs up and ran inside, giddily telling your aunt that he got carried by the blonde. 

The two of you stared at each other quietly, before you decided to speak up. “How about we go to the backyard and speak there, yeah?” You offered, making some room for him to enter the house, to which he agreed with, entering your humble home. Upon closing the door, you whispered a quiet “let’s go” to him and led him to the back of your house. 

You sat down by the lone tree that stood in the middle of your garden, patting down the space next to you. “So what brings you here?” You asked once he sat down, turning to the male with a small yet hesitant smile. 

“I’m returning the infinity stones tomorrow but before that I want to apologize.” Steve started off, looking into the distance as he couldn’t bring himself to look into your E/C orbs that he once found comfort in, fearing that it might be filled with hatred for him. “I’m not sure how much you heard that night but I have… no excuse for what I did to you. I thought I could love you, that I could move on but I guess I’m still stuck in the past.” He admitted, tone quiet and soft like the rustles of the leaves that hovered above the both of you. 

“I came to you because you reminded me of Peggy. It was selfish of me to even approach you with that intention in the first place but I can assure you that every moment we shared together is something that I cherish deeply. Even一 even the first kiss we had right under this tree right here.” He finished, a sad sigh following his sentence. 

It was a cool night and you were drifting off to sleep when you heard something tap the windows of your room, causing you to sit up and walk towards the source of the noise to see Steve gathering more rocks. Opening the window, “Steve? What on earth are you doing here?” You asked, amused at his antics that seemed too out of character even for him. 

“I came to see you! You aren’t going to the session tomorrow, right?” Steve said, motioning you to come down. His smile was big as the moon shined over him, defining his facial structure even more despite the darkness of the night. 

You shook your head in disbelief, you had told him that you weren’t going to attend this week due to the fact that it was supposed to be your brother’s tenth birthday today and you had every intention to celebrate for him. “Go to the back! I’ll meet you there.” You told him, motioning to the garden at the back of your childhood home. 

You quickly threw on a pair of pajama pants and headed down, grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen pantry before heading out to the backyard where you saw him sitting down by the tree and waved for you to come on over to him. 

You plopped down next to him and his arms were instantly around you, “How old is your brother by tomorrow?” He asked, squeezing you to him gently as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His familiar scent greets your senses, causing you to completely ease up in his touch. 

“Xav’s supposed to be ten tomorrow. I promised him I would take him to the beach for this tenth birthday so I have every intention of doing so even without him here.” You answered, the familiar feeling of sadness forming in your chest at the idea of spending another birthday without him; it was too painful for you. 

Comfortable silence then wrapped the both of you before he spoke up again, “I promise I’m getting your brother back. I don’t know how we can do that, but I promise you I will.” Determination was dripping through every word, making you look up at him as hopefulness filled your eyes. Your gaze met before you leaned in to connect your lips with his for a quick kiss. 

Realizing your actions, you looked at him in shock as a hand hovered over your lips. “Steve I’m so sorry” but you were quickly silenced when his plush tiers met yours for another kiss, this time longer and filled with more emotions. The both of you kissed until you had to break away due to the lack of oxygen, resting your forehead against his. 

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N.” 

You chuckled softly at the memory, a sad smile on your lips as you decided to speak up, “Did you ever regret meeting me, Steve?” You questioned, staring off into the distance as the feeling of defeat consumed you. There was a shift in his position as his hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. 

His brows were furrowed as he shook his head, “No, I could never regret meeting you. The only regret I have is with myself. For making you love me when I couldn’t even love you back.”

You leaned into his touch as tears flowed down from your eyes, your sobs following as your heart broke more. There was no denying you had fallen for him, that you had fallen quite hard for him but you couldn’t keep him to yourself; not when he’s still in love with the woman he met decades ago. “Thank you for giving me a chance to love you.” You whispered, thankful for the time he spent with you; for making you feel like he was yours for even just a fleeting moment. 

No words left his mouth as he leaned in to give you another kiss. Unlike the many you’ve shared, this one was chaste and had guilt written all over it. “I have to go.” He then said, hugging you for the last time as he stood up. 

Your hand stopped him from going any further, he looked back down at you with a curious gaze. With the last strong thread that you had, you mustered up a big smile at him. "I hope you still remember me; us. Even if it's just in your wildest dreams." before letting him go. 

“I’ll always remember you, Y/N.” 

---

TAGLIST: will be fixed soon!

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Can I Call You Tonight? - Nagito Komaeda x Reader

Summary: you send Nagito a nude. He likes it. Contains : Nagito x Reader, explicit NSFW content, fem reader, no pronouns used  Words:   2467

ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

You aren’t sure what possessed you to take the photo. You are even less sure what possessed you to hit send. 

This incessant crush that you’ve had for almost two years now, it isn't going anywhere. It only gets stronger and stronger. with every meeting your heart races faster, you’ve been dreaming about his hands, the cut of his jaw. Nagito Komaeda consumes your every thought. 

You aren't good with words. You have no idea how you would even begin to tell him how you feel about him. How you have always felt about him. So did something stupid, shirt off, tits out stupid. 

But what's done is done. All you can do now is wait. Chewing on your fingernails and staring at your phone screen in absolute horror.

This was a terrible idea.

***

On the other side of the phone, Nagito freezes. One hand clapped over his mouth as his eyes drink in the image that just appeared in his message app. His heart is racing, his breathing is heavy. He shouldn’t even be looking at it, there is no way someone as pathetic as he should even be permitted to view your perfect visage. His throat bobs, horrified at how quickly his jeans are growing tight. 

You’re smiling directly into the camera, it’s almost like you can see him. Breasts squished together and cheeks rosy pink, it almost looks like you took this photo just for him. That you know he is looking at it. 

His cock is painfully hard now, begging for him to touch it. He can’t. He can’t use your perfect body in such a...a filthy way. You must have sent this photo by accident, you probably don’t even know that he is looking at it. That thought makes his cock twitch in his jeans and he groans. He is reprehensible. 

It’s just as he finally starts giving in, when his hand starts slowly trailing down his torso, that his phone pings again. He blinks, stomach turning when he sees the message is from you once more. He’s ready for you to express your horror at sending something so intimate to someone like him, to call him out for even thinking about touching himself while looking at it. But then, he is taken by surprise. 

Did you like it? 

His heart is racing, staring wide eyed at his phone, any possible reply has died right at his fingertips. He’s all but short circuited.

I’ve never done something like this before...I hope it was okay…

You sent it on purpose. You sent it TO HIM on purpose. 

Nagito? Oh god, I shouldn’t have sent that should I? I’m so sorry, we can pretend it never happened. 

He is thrust back into the present, fingers tapping wildly on his phone screen.

My apologies! I was just shocked that you would intend to send something like this to someone like me.

...I do like it. 

He unzips his jeans and takes his cock in his free hand. Sighing shakily at the relief of pressure. Looking down at the phone where he can still see the photo (the photo you took for him) and he has a sudden thought. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he forces his shaky fingers to type out another message.

Do you want me to return the favour?

***

You’re sitting on your bed. Holding your phone in your hand and shaking. Was he really asking what you thought he was? Did he want to send you a picture of..of...your teeth sink into your lower lip, you can feel an unmistakable warmth between your thighs. You swallow, and manage to reply.

Only if it’s okay with you...

Then you wait. Staring down at the phone with nervous eyes, fingers on your right hand slowly dance around the edge of your nipple. Not wanting to touch it just yet. Just the thought of him taking a photo on the other end of the phone is making you wet, just imagining him slipping a hand into his already tight jeans and-

Your phone pings. 

It’s not much to look at. I’m sorry.

Your phone pings again and you almost drop your phone out of your hand when the picture pops up. Not much to look at? Nagito is a goddamn liar.

Surprisingly, it isn’t his cock that draws your eyes first, but his hand. You know that hand, from his chewed cuticles to the ridges of his knuckles. The same hand you have been dreaming about holding yours, is now wrapped firmly around the base of the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Flushed red and dripping with pre-cum. You can feel the arousal pang in the pit of your stomach. That was Nagito’s cock. You were looking at it. It was his. You gulp.

The hand not gripping your phone slowly slips down your stomach and into your panties. You’re shocked to find yourself already wet, gently rubbing circles around your clit as you stare at the perfect bead of cum balancing on the tip on Nagito’s cock. God how badly you want to clean it up with your tongue.

You look perfect, Nagito.

You manage to type with your shaking hand, dipping one finger inside of yourself and mewling at the feeling. Boldness takes over, and you send another message before you can regret it.

I’m so wet for you

It’s a few minutes before you get a response, you’re too busy thrusting a finger in and out of yourself while imagining just how that perfect cock of his would feel in its place. You’ve taken to examining some of the finer details, you can see the jut of his hip bones in the background, blurry and pale, you want to suck on them until they turn purple. Then, another message:

Another angle. The camera is higher this time, giving you a perfect view of his face. His white hair is fucked five ways to hell, plastered to his forehead with sweat. His milky skin is flushed pink all the way down to his collarbones and his white shirt is bunched up around his ribcage. He’s looking right at you, eyes half lidded and a thin line of drool escaping his full lower lip. Hand still tightly wrapped around his cock. You feel like you could cum from this alone. 

I would like to see more of you. If you would allow it.

If it was anyone but Nagito, you would say no. You are shy about your appearance, the only way you were able to send that first photo was hitting the button before you had time to actually think about it. But still, he wants to see more of you, and you trust him. Your hand is quivering as you slip out of your panties, finger still slowly circling your clit as you angle the camera downward. This is so weird. You can't even look at the phone, you’re so embarrassed. It would be so much easier if he could just look on his own, if you didn’t need to practice angling the camera for the perfect shot.

A thought hits you, and you bite down on your lip. 

Fuck it. You decide, and hit the video call button

***

Nagito jumps when his phone starts to ring. Worried that somehow, someone out there knows exactly what he is doing, but then he realises its you. His hand shakes when he brings up his finger and hits accept.

You pop onto his screen immediately, cheeks flushed, sweat dripping down your brow, mouth hung open and panting. The hand around his cock tightens almost instinctively. To see it in a photo is one thing, to see you moving. Well, that’s something completely different. 

“H...Hey, Nagito” You breathe, breaking off into a moan halfway through his name. His name. You just moaned his name. 

“Ah…” His throat bobs, still slowly working his cock through the thick trails of pre-cum dripping down it, “Hello…”

“I thought this might be...hng” It’s now that he notices the way your free arm is moving. Something is happening off screen, he can guess what it is. You have a shaky breath and manage a nervous smile, “...you know, easier? Than the photos…”

“Ah, yes.” A nervous laugh bubbles up out of his chest, “I was having trouble typing. My…mmph, my hands are shaky.”

You smile softly, but a twitch of your lips betrays your nerves. Nagito knows you so well, he can read you like a book, you swallow, “do you still want to see?”

A noise that could almost be called a whimper escapes his mouth at the thought, “y-yes...of course! If you are willing to show someone like me then I would be...exhilarated.”

He watches as you take a deep breath, and begin panning the camera down past your breasts, over the curve of stomach, before it finally focuses in on your fingers, dipping slowly in and out of your dripping center. He chokes on a sound, half a moan, half a laugh as he watches you languidly fingering yourself. First just one finger, but then quickly two. 

“You weren’t kidding about how wet you are…” he breathes, completely in awe of you.

Nagito hears the nervous ring of your laugh from off camera, “Y-yeah.” You breath shakily, fingers still continuing their ministrations, “Is this okay? It’s probably weird to watch me doing this…” 

Your thumb reaches up and brushes across your clit, he sees your thighs shake, “No...no, I am…” he licks his lips, tightening the grip of his hand around his weeping cock, “I am honoured that you trust me this much.” 

There is a little fumbling, and then the camera comes back up your face, bright red and smiling shyly as you refuse to make eye contact with the phone screen, “I’m glad you liked it…”

There’s a lull in conversation. Your eyes turn to meet his through the screen, and for a moment he is just jerking off to your expression. The way your eyes clench shut, the way you hiss through your teeth. He can see your arm moving faster, he can’t help but wonder how many fingers are inside you now. Can’t help but wonder how many of his fingers would fit inside of you.

“N-nagito…?” You ask, voice high pitched and almost mewling.

He gulps, his hips are bucking up into his hand now. You look so beautiful like this, “Yes…?”

You meet the approximation of his eyes, chewing your lower lip nervously, “Are...are you still-?” 

Nagito nods sheepishly, “Y-Yeah...I-“ 

“Can I see?” 

His heart is racing, but he nods and shuffles a little higher up on the pillows. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and switches his phone to the back facing camera. He watches your eyes blow wide and your mouth drops open in a moan, “F-Fuck, Nagito...you’re so pretty.” 

He laughs in disbelief, slowly bringing his fist up to the head of his cock and teasing the tip with the pad of his thumb. He can see that your eyes are following the movement, “you...you really like it?” 

“If I was there with you it would have been in my mouth like half an hour ago.” 

Nagito groans at that, head falling backward on his pillow as he flips the camera back around, “you’re torturing me.” 

“The faces you’re making…” you whisper, biting down hard on your lower lip to hide a moan. Your arm is moving even faster, breasts shaking with the movement, “god, the way you look right now. Someone should carve you out of marble.”

He laughs breathlessly, pumping his cock even faster, “why do you keep saying such things? I can’t possibly hold a candle to you.” His eyes turn to your face, glowing with arousal on his phone, “you’re like a vision, something someone like me should only be permitted to see in my dreams.”

You turn even redder, he didn’t know that was possible. A smile crawls up the side of his face at your expression. He never wants to stop looking at you. Nagito can feel himself getting close, there’s a tightness in the pit of his stomach that is just begging him to let it go. Keening and moaning, eyes scrunching shut as his hips guide his palm into a particularly delicious stroke, he can here you whimpering and mewling on the other end of the phone, and if he listens hard enough he can hear the wet sounds of your fingers pumping into and out of your sex.

“Nhhn-Nagito...I wish it was your fingers inside of me.”

He felt those words in his insides, from his stomach all the way out to the tips of his fingers. It was like a bolt of lightning to his heart, to his cock, to his everything. You wanted him. You wanted him. His mouth drops open, and words escape him before he can think better of it, “I...I don't deserve it...but…” he gasps as his thumb brushes over his weeping slit, drool running down over his chin, “I want your mouth on me...i want it so badly...i can’t--ahhh~” 

***

Nagito has the prettiest orgasm you’ve ever seen. His mouth drops open, his eyelids flutter closed and his back arches up to the ceiling. In the soft light of the lamp by his bed, he looks like an angel, chest heaving as he finally comes undone. 

You don't stop touching yourself, twitching and gasping, getting closer and closer just watching him as he shatters. The moment that breaks you, that makes the coil in your stomach finally snap is when you catch a glimpse of his wrist giving himself one last pump off screen. His brow furrowing and a delicious moan escaping his perfect lips, splattering his bare torso with his cum. 

It’s too much. With a breathless moan you feel yourself tip over the edge, your insides tightening, toes curling and the world goes white behind your eyes. All you can think about is Nagito. Your hand is shaking when you finally slip your fingers out of yourself and wipe them on your bare thigh, when you open your eyes you can see Nagito laying back on his pillows and breathing deeply as he comes back down. 

You giggle, “So…”

Nagito cracks open an eye, “So…”

“Do you want to keep talking?” You grab a shirt and pull it on over your head, “Or was that...it?”

You watch as Nagito runs a hand through the mess of his hair, he gives you a sleepy smile, “I need to clean up, but i can leave the audio on if you want?”

“Yeah.” You reply, “That sounds good.”

[l4verq]

remnants (1)

ransom drysdale x reader

in which you have to protect ransom drysdale because he has the same face as steve rogers, your ex who’s gone back to peggy

warnings : fights, guns, hostage situation, tiny bit of violence

if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk in the comments💗

ʀᴇᴍɴᴀɴᴛꜱ

*not my gif*

-

ransom’s seen pretty much everything.

travelled around the world, eaten the finest delicacies, snapped away for five years into non-existence all because of a purple, ball-sack face alien.

or so he thought.

because sitting here cuffed to a chair infront of you barely conscious, he begs to differ.

how did the night get so fucked so fast?

“hey.” he extends his leg, trying to nudge yours desperately.

you were a sight to behold with your hair undone, dark locks tousled around your delicate neck.

but ransom can’t afford to marvel at you, in fact the first thing he needs to do is get the fuck away from you.

because the way you’d jammed that glass cup up that bartender’s throat without a second thought, you were no ordinary woman.

“psst, hey.” He tries again, eyes skimming over the room.

they probably were holding them both for ransom.

hell would freeze over before he gave any of his money to those fuckers who chained him up like a dog.

you stir around slightly as you slowly open your heavy eyes. a groan slips out when you try to adjust yourself, only tightening the hold on your hands.

“good, you’re up.”

you lift your head to see a bloodied ransom across you.

slumping back into your seat, your body cries out in pain at the slightest movements.

as soon as you’d tasted the martini, you knew it was an ambush, thankfully spitting most of it out.

but it was too late, the drug almost instantaneously taking action, making you groggy.

the last thing you vaguely remember is dragging ransom out only to be whacked out cold, seeing stars.

“what’s going on? hey, are you going back to sleep?”he asks, straining his leg out to nudge yours again.

“you just don’t shut up, do you?” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“i’m being held hostage in this room,” his nose scrunches up, “so, I’m sorry if I’m just a little curious as to what the fuck is going on.”

he looks almost pitiful, dried blood on his forehead and desperation in his eyes.

reminds you of steve after missions when he would limp around, all bruised up.

your eyes flicker over to the one camera pointed right at you, but the way it was angled you knew your hands weren’t in view.

“do you know about the avengers?” you work on dislocating your wrist to free your hands chained behind you.

not exactly your favourite thing but it worked everytime.

he rolls his eyes and quirks an eyebrow.

“you think I don’t know the avengers? the whole ‘saviours of the world but we choose to remain anonymous’ crap?”

“well, you’re looking at one right now.” you give an umamused smile, slightly flinching at the wrench that causes a tear in your ligaments.

he probably wouldn’t have believed you if he hadn’t witness you take down six people with such ease just a few hours? ago.

“anyways long story short, you look just like captain america and for some reason hydra just can’t seem to get over that face of yours.”

he lets out a genuine laugh which only seems to intensify the throbbing pain in his head.

you were a whole other kind of crazy.

“steve rogers? no one’s even seen his face under that dumb cowl of his.” he snorts, noticing the slight shift in your face at the mention of steve.

“andy barber. jake jensen. colin shea. ever heard of them?”

another tear.

he shakes his head, his irritation only growing by the very second.

“a few months ago, each one of them started disappearing one after the other. the only thing they had in common was their faces. they looked exactly like you, like him.”

you clench your jaw as you position your wrist for the final twist.

the last one always hurt like a bitch.

“you’re crazy.” he huffs, in disbelief.

he knew he shouldn’t have gone to that stupid event, not let his mother get in his head like always.

he could be at home right now, in his lavish three bedroom villa overlooking the sylvan surroundings.

but here he was, tied up in a filthy room with an avenger.

you might have to agree with him on the crazy part because you’re regretting the whole dislocating thing when the last twist pulls through, pain nearly blinding you.

he can only watch in horror as he realises what you’re doing.

“no, like you’re actually insane.” he breathes out in disbelief as your hands slip out of the chain.

the door swings open, guns pointed right at you.

a particular face in the middle catches your eye as you recognise him.

“you know you’re not getting out of here that easy, right?” zemo chuckles, “broke those pretty bones for nothing.”

“you get blipped for five years and this is the first thing you do? somebody needs to get a life.” you slowly get up, hands raised (you think?)

you couldn’t really feel them anymore.

��sit back down.” he orders, gun pointed right at your head.

he yells at you to sit down again but the gun’s pointed at ransom now.

“holy fuck, dude, don’t point that shit at me. this is how 99% of the people in movies die.” ransom pleads, his eyes closed.

“he’s not steve, you know that. so, why are you doing this? I mean I know why I’m doing this.” you hesitantly sit back down, your ears pleased for once to hear the familiar whirring.

just a few more seconds. that’s all you needed.

he cocks his head, “doing what?”

“buying time.”

ransom’s seen enough action movies to know the probability of him accidentally being shot by any of the rain of bullets whizzing past you two right now is high.

too high for his liking.

he thinks he saw a red flying thing knock out zemo? before you pushed him down so hard the chair broke.

“jesus christ, are you trying to kill me?” He yells, his back throbbing in pain.

and all of a sudden, it’s quiet,a persistent ringing taking over his ears.

he opens his eyes to see you hovering over his face.

it’s weird, your lips seem to be moving but he can’t hear you.

and it’s all black.

“i just want you to know that what you did back there, that was stupid.” sam glares at you, in the rearview mirror.

“and dumb.” bucky chimes in.

you roll your eyes.

it was going to be a long ride to the safehouse.

the car bumps and ransom bounces around, his head hitting the top.

“jesus, hold him or something.” bucky turns around, looking at ransom’s unconscious body sprawled on the seat.

you scoot over closer to ransom, your hand guiding his head to your lap.

bucky turns back around, a grin creeping up to his face which you just want to punch off.

you look down at the bloody mess on Ransom’s forehead, fingers slightly grazing over it.

it was done with a blunt object, most likely the back of a gun.

you can’t stop staring at his face, the same lump forming in your throat again.

so you force yourself to look away, focus on the trees zooming past until sam stops the car infront of a small house, “we’re here.”

bucky hands you a bag of essentials, waving at you to go in, “we got him.”

the house is actually better than most safe houses you’re used to.

it has electricity and hot water and that’s already made it a top contender.

you head straight for the shower, stripping down to nothing while turning on the water.

you hiss in pain at the contact of water on your aching skin.

the water’s scorching hot but it’s the only way you feel clean.

you scrub off the grime and dirt like always, desperately washing away the dried blood under your fingernails.

a trail of reddish brown water as you wash your hair, nails scratching every surface of your scalp.

quickly changing into a set of clean clothes, you pull out a box of needles.

you’re sloppy with your stitches, maybe cause you’d gotten used to him doing it for you.

throwing your wet hair into a towel, you debate whether to clean his wound up or not.

but your hand is already reaching for the bag of first aid sprawled all over the sink.

“it’s just a nice thing to do.” you mumble, making your way to the living room.

sam’s passed out on the couch adjacent to ransom and you’re pretty sure bucky went out to get some food.

they’ve changed his clothes for him but the ugly bruise on his forehead only seems to be swelling up.

you sit down on the floor, rummaging through the box, pulling out cotton and antiseptic.

“am I dead?” he croaks out, slightly shifting.

you chuckle, looking back at him.

a few dabs of the brown liquid on the cotton.

“this is gonna sting.” You warn him before gently wiping the angry bruise.

he flinches, groaning in pain.

“where am I?”

“safe.”

“yea, that’s really comforting.” he looks up at you in annoyance.

you exchange to a new waft of cotton, still cleaning up the dried up blood.

it’s strange, how weird yet nice your gentle touches feel.

the way your lips slightly part and eyebrows knit together as you concentrate.

ransom never really had someone take care of him like this.

“wher’s Steve?” he asks the lingering question on his mind.

there’d been many conspiracy theories online, each one crazier than the other.

he again notices the slight clench of the jaw, the shift in your position at the mention of his name.

“gone.” you reply stoically, placing the gauze over the swelling wound.

a shit reply but he can’t bring himself to pry further.

you look down at his face, the familiarity of this catching you offguard.

after every mission, he’d force you to sit down and tend to your every wound, every scratch.

can’t have my girl walking around, all bruised up like that.

and you’d force him to sit down and do the same.

it was always so personal, standing between his legs, his hands around your waist while yours worked around.

“hey, you okay?” ransom lifts his head, regretting it instantly as pain shoots up his entire body.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill any second.

“yeah, I’m good. Get some rest.”

you fumble around, hurriedly picking up the first aid kit, your shaky hands doing little to help you.

you were clearly distraught and ransom had a sneaking suspicion why.

-

a/n : i dont even know if u can physically dislocate your wrist yourself lol, im just making shit up as i go lmao

[yoongisleftearring]

Moonlight

-> Pairing: yoongi x reader

-> Genre: angst, fluff

-> Word Count: 1,347

-> Warnings: two sleep-deprived sad babies

× in which you have trouble sleeping and the only thing that calms you is the music of the mystery pianist down the street.

====================================

Walking at night was your form of therapy, a way for you to relieve the tension that cramped your shoulders. You could feel the stiffness within your body fade with each step, letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling. Walking through the streets of Seoul at night with nothing to illuminate your path other than flickering streetlights and the moonlight wasn't smart. You knew that, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You knew what lurked in the darkness but it didn't faze you. You could hear laughter from a neighboring street, people just beginning their nights hopping from bar to bar you assumed.

You didn't pay much attention to them as you walked, focusing on the sound of your steps on the sidewalk. The constant melody reiterated your solitude. The muffled playing of a piano becoming more apparent the closer you drew to one particular building. The building you find yourself standing in front of almost every night, admiring the soothing music of the instrument as your brain fumbled to theorize who the person was who played the sweet tunes this late at night. Maybe they are like you, a mind too plagued by thoughts to sleep. The only certain thing, they were talented. Normally you would listen to the delicate music for a few minutes, then leave. The instrument filling your thoughts enough for you to be content enough to go back to your apartment. Today, for whatever reason, you decided to stay longer, taking a seat on the steps outside of the house where the music originated. You don't know how long you stayed there, the musician had you transfixed on their every note, so much so you had barely registered that the vibrations of the instrument had stopped flowing through the air around you. Furrowing your brows in disappointment, but, you suppose the musician had to stop at some point.

With your back to the door of the house, you didn't notice the creak coming from the door as a figure slipped outside. "You don't seem to be one for sleeping." A low voice sounded from behind you as you spin your head towards the voice. A man, in his mid-twenties you would guess, stood in front of you, his pale complexion relaxed as he looks down at you. You didn't speak, too caught off guard by the arrival of the man. He took this as an invitation to take a seat beside you. You kept your eyes focused on him as he smiled at you subtly.

"How-how do you know that?" You stuttered, shaking your head at the nervous habit. The man in front of you looked at you in confusion, almost as if you should know how he knows that.

"You come every night. How could I miss you?" The man spoke with a deep but soft tone, his brown eyes peering into yours, they looked sharp, analyzing but warm. You shook your head slightly, still not understanding what the man was saying.

"So, you-"

"Are the one who plays the piano so late at night," He chuckles and you widen your eyes in realization, your surprise was evident. After all of the scenarios you had imagined and the countless faces you had given to your mystery pianist, you weren't expecting him. "Yeah, it seems like you aren't the only one who isn't a fan of sleep." He chuckles darkly and you offer a half-smile in understanding.

"You clearly like the piano but that's the only thing I know about you. You have a name?" You study the man's face to detect his motives, you couldn't detect any maliciousness and honestly, you couldn't find the harm in disclosing minimal personal information with a stranger.

"Y/n. You're really talented." The man smiled bashfully at the compliment, his eyes dropping to his hands as he played with the threads of his jumper.

"Yoongi," He spoke as he wrapped his arms around his body, only now did you notice how chilly the night air had become. "Are you not cold?" Yoongi spoke looking over your body to the thin layers of fabric that you wore, he was sure that you would be colder than him.

"Kind of, I'm okay though." You smiled up at him, meeting his eyes he knew you were colder than you were letting on.

"Come on, I'm not having my number one fan freezing to death on the steps of my house." Yoongi chuckled as he stood up, dusting himself off before holding out a hand for you to take. You stared at the extended hand, his fingers were pale like him, they were slender and boney, a result of years of playing the piano you theorized. You placed your cold hand in his warmer one and he gently pulled you so you were standing facing him. "Only if you want to." His cheeks heated up slightly as he lifted his hand to run over the skin at the back of his neck. You nodded, slightly endeared by his sudden nervousness. He stepped into his house and you followed close behind, your eyes taking in each detail. The space was cluttered with old books and music sheets. He led you into the living room and told you to sit on the couch while he brewed coffee for you both.

While he was gone your eyes roamed around the room, examining each detail. You noticed that there weren't any pictures of family hanging on the walls, instead, the only framed photo being of Yoongi and six other men, each with wide smiles on their faces as they started into the camera. The picture radiated happiness resulting in a smile of your own.

"My friends. That was a good day, Jimin had a performance and we all went out to celebrate afterward." Yoongi snickered slightly at the fond memory as he handed you a mug, taking a seat on the couch, you hesitantly doing the same.

"Is Jimin a musician too?" You asked, taking a sip of the coffee and maybe it was the delirium caused by the lack of sleep but you swore you have never tasted better. The man shook his head in response.

"No, a dancer," You nodded and your eyes flickered across the room once more. "So, what brings you around here so late?" Yoongi speaks.

"Couldn't sleep." You utter simply. And it was the truth, you couldn't, although you weren't in the mood to go into the details with the musician at the moment.

"And every other night?" The man questions and you just nod your head in response, his eyes meet yours and you could see the understanding swirling around in them.

"And you? A fan of receiving noise complaints from your neighbors?" You smile as you lift your cup to your mouth. The man chuckles in response.

"It's what I live for," The man smiles wide, his gummy smile causing you to smile as you watch him. "Couldn't sleep either." His smile dies down into something more somber like there's more meaning behind those words than the two of you could comprehend at that moment. You nod, yawning. It had been a while since you had felt tired but even after consuming a coffee, the lack of sleep seemed to hit you.

"Seems like that's it for tonight," Yoongi speaks as he lifts the empty cup from your hands, watching your eyes become heavier. You both walk to the door, standing without an idea of how to leave this. You reached for the door handle but a warm palm was placed over yours, you turned your head toward the man, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "I'll be playing again tomorrow." You smiled shyly, your cheeks heating up. You pulled the door open, his hand dropping back to his side.

"Goodnight, Yoongi." You spoke as you made your way outside, wrapping the black scarf he had given your closer around your neck.

"Goodnight, Y/n."  The man spoke softly, watching your retreating figure disappear into the night.

[ldouble]

You Smell Good | Harry Styles X Reader

summary: You and Harry prepare for the Met Gala. The only thing you fixate on...other than everything...is the way you smell. Harry on the other hand, can’t get enough of it.

if we like this enough...should it be a senses series?

----------

this gif is not mine credit to harryisart omg i love this

You can’t help but tug at your sleeves. Someone’s hand shoos it away which you let. That is until your collar seems off. When you’re bugged away from that part of your clothing you find another to busy yourself with. Then its your hair. Your makeup. Your nails.

You’re above to dive into your skin (it looks wayyyyyy too orange) when the hands finally have a voice.

“Stop it.”

You roll your neck dramatically, flopping your chin down to glare at Harry. Sitting in a director’s chair, getting his hair done. It was a ridiculous thought when he was first placed there, his holding a fourth of what you have attached to yours but it now makes sense considering he’s been there for about double the amount of times yours took.

At the thought of it, your fingers move up unconsciously to pick at your styled mane. But, having discovered his speech is much stronger than his hands, Harry tag teams the two.

“You look fine.”

“Says you.” You shoot back, going to pick at the skin around your fingers.

Suddenly all movement is paused as your hands are clasped tight in Harry’s, his eyes finding yours. His smile is gentle which makes his next words the most surprising.

“Says what about me?”

Your head tips back at his humorous suffering. It’s when he’s halfway through a monologue about the time and money and oh so painful hours of planning that went into his look, you’re clutching your stomach and begging him to stop.

“Now I’m really going to mess something up.”

Harry sighs, tilting his head away from the stylist to get a good look at you. “You could never.”

You suck in a breathe. The hotel room has been hot for hours. The people in and out, the steamers and blow dryers and the shots that Harry has been sending since lunch has made the whole space...staticy.

One more intense look or loving statement from your friend and you’re sure to stain the black dress you wear.

Said to be impossible but nothing is, not when you’re about to walk down the Met Gala pink carpet with your best friend since diapers.

Especially since you’re not wearing diapers.

You’re wearing clothes more expensive than what God himself wears in a suite straight out the montages of movies and the water you’ve been drinking is so heavy it makes you think you’re drinking liquid gold.

Or maybe that’s just the nerves bunching in your stomach that’s causing everything you send down to feel like its all going to come back up.

You put a hand to your mouth, close your eyes and try to count to ten.

But its the thing that touches you gently on the cheek that relaxes you.

It’s not six hundred dollar hair brush or a touch up from a celebrity stylist. The complimentary moisturizer of the hotel (which only exists in places like these) doesn’t skim your skin.

Its a priceless hand that grazes you, sending every worry and knot away just like room service was cleared earlier.

You can’t help but lean into his touch, take a deep breath of hair product and the horrible smelling perfume someone sprayed on you.

Your eyes open when you sense him leaning in, making you all but freeze. What could he be thinking?

“You smell terrible.”

Of course that’s what he’s thinking.

“You, Mr. Co Chair, put so much thought and effort and money into this thing,” You say, moving to look in the mirror he facing. The sight of you both so done up and put together (a real change from the sweatshirts you live in when back in London when watching all of the events like the one you’re about to be in) makes you stumble. Harry begins to turn his head, forcing you to grab him and face it back to your reflection. “And the one thing you fumble on in my perfume.”

“Trust me every choice was mine,” Harry defends as I stand to rumble through my suitcase. The duffel, a Year 10 gym bag you still use, had been useless all night. Until now of course. “Except that.”

You shrug, wandering back over to him, your own personal balm in hand. “Hey, I’m not the one who has to whisper in my ear and tell me how pretty I am all night and ingest a whiff of what smells like dog poop.”

Harry’s head tips back with a laugh as you uncap the bottle, handing it to him. “I thought I could whisper in your hear and tell you how awful you smell. Think of the faces you’d make for the cameras.”

“Don’t even.” You turn, holding your ponytail up (much to the dismay of the stylist packing up across the room. “Spritz a tad on my neck will you.”

“Interesting spot.” Harry mumbles, doing as told.

“I’m expecting a kiss from some celebrity there tonight.” You flip back once the cool mist hits you. Harry’s eyes are stuck on your exposed collarbone but you pretend not to notice as you reach for the bottle. “Can’t have him knowing I smell.”

“Right.” Harry squints.

You spritz your wrists, rub them together and then bend down to the slit in the back of your dress. “If you fan my dress out I can’t have you bunching up your nose.”

Harry takes the nose tap, grabbing your hand afterwards. He then dips down to sniff your wrists, a content smile on his lips as he looks up. “Much better.”

“See, if you had known you had an opinion on how I smelled, you would’ve thought of this earlier.” You shake the perfume bottle at him, straightening out your dress as he stands up, going as far to help you get situated.

“Like I would’ve been able to capture it.”

“Capture what?” You smile, accepting your purse form one of the thousand of people in the room. You do it absently mindly having not noticed them in a while. With Harry it always feels like just you two.

You assume he thinks the same, especially the way he ignores final touch ups and looks at you like you really are the only other breathing thing in the vicinity. “Harry.”

He purses his lips as you egg him on. You seem him bite the inside of his cheek and it amkes you want to out a hand on it. But the way the room got so hot when he did that to you. And now with everyone moving around and the nerves building as someone shouts out something about arrival approaching...you couldn’t take it.

You never could.

Why were you doing this? How did you ever say yes to going out there with him in front of everyone? This was the freaking Met Gala. You hadn’t so much as gone on stage with him. Being with Harry was great. Being with Harry with the whole world was horrible.

At least you thought.

You saw how other best friends were treated. Talked about. Lied about. Made up about.

He was your best friend.

You couldn’t take it.

“Capture all you are to me in some dinky little bottle.” He finished, bending down to grab your focus.

It works. He could take it. Your eyes. And he did.

He takes more than that though. Again the nerves fly away and the knots undo and you’re left just being you.

It’s good you smell like you too.

You shrug again, making your way to the door with his hand in yours. You’ve always had to pull him along. Never before had you thought you would do this at the Met Gala but the usual finds its self in the unusual.

“You’re just lucky. You might not have a supermodel date but you’ve got a girl who smells just like-”

“You.”

You look back at him, your purse falling to the ground at the sight of his eyes all hazy and his smile so sweet.

His words are stunning. God damn soulful.

Dressed in his Gucci sheer ensemble, it’s like he’s singing at the fanciest of events to the girl of his dreams.

But it’s just you. A girl wearing 10 dollar perfume from the corner store.

It’s his turn to pull you. You switch spots as you’re frozen in yours and he leads you into the hallway, grabbing your bag on the way.

“You smell like you and hair spray and the onion ring you just ate.”

Your hand flies to your mouth for a breath check when he pulls you close in the elevator.

“You smell great.”

You look up at him, a smile on your lips.

“And you,” Your hands can’t help but play with the ribbons on his collar. “Have smelled better nearly every other time.”

He chuckles, his top teeth hugging his bottom lip. The ding of the elevator sounds before the car stops with a thud. People are moving. There’s talking. There’s so much going on but all you can smell is....

Carpet cleaner.

And windex for the mirror walls.

And Harry.

You can’t wait to see what else you sense along the way.

[love-and-monsters]

Harpy Model

M harpy X GN human, 6,762 words.

This story is based on this post that I was tagged in by the lovely and talented @p-gretz. Thanks for the inspiration!

You fumbled with the camera equipment in your hands. The tripod kept trying to escape under your elbow, but shifting to secure it would mean losing the lens cap, and grabbing for that jeopardized the magnifier you had balanced against your collarbone. If people stopped dumping things on you at every given opportunity, you probably would have been alright, but being the lowest member on the totem pole meant your status was barely better than a self-propelled table.

The tripod slipped another inch down and you automatically grabbed at it. The sudden movement unbalanced the camera in the center of the pile. With a clatter of plastic, it slipped free, tumbling toward the ground.

A feathered hand snagged the camera strap, jerking it to a halt seconds before it struck the ground. “Need some help?” a slightly accented male voice asked.

“Thanks, but I got it,” you said. A total lie. You could not have had it less if you’d tried.

“Nonsense. At least let me take something so you can get better situated.” Before you could protest again, he had removed several of the objects, tucking them into his feathered arms.

Without the constant danger of dropping something if you so much as twitched, you were able to shift the pile in your arms into a better position. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I-”

You froze. It felt embarrassingly out of character for you to look at someone and freeze, but his face made something in your chest do backflips.

He was elegantly made up, with touches lengthening his lashes and emphasizing his cheekbones. His hair was pale and curling in little waves around his ears. Delicate feathers sprouted around his neck, trailing down toward his arms. They were pale white, with touches of pink. His tail was easily the most striking part of him. Long, green feathers made a train behind him that brushed the floor and gave him the impression of a trailing cloak. He stood delicately on bird-like talons, poised like a dancer.

Fortunately, your freeze only lasted a couple of seconds, and you disguised it by pretending to drop and recover one of your many items. “Sorry. I’m trying to go to studio, um. A12, so I’ll just be heading over there-”

The man laughed. It was more gentle than mocking, but you felt your stomach shrivel in embarrassment regardless. “Really? Then you’re heading in the wrong direction. I’m headed in the same direction. I can walk you there.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” you said.

“It’s not a bother. You seem like you could use the help.” You blushed furiously, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He shifted the camera he’d taken from you into a more comfortable position in his arm. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Yeah. I’m, um. The new intern, basically. You’ve been here for a while?”

“I work with a few different photography places as a model. But I’ve had a contract here for some time.” He flicked his tail casually. “If you need help, I can show you around a little bit when we’re done. This place can be a real maze until you get used to it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose on you like that. I mean, you’re probably really busy and I don’t want to take up any of your valuable time-”

The harpy laughed. “My time is hardly the most valuable time here. And, if we’re being really honest…” He leaned in close to your ear. His feathers tickled as he put a hand up to his mouth. “I don’t mind making some of the people around here wait. They’re all really stuck up.” He leaned back and dropped you a glittery wink before strolling on ahead. “Come with me! It’s this way.”

You hurried after him. He had a particularly flowing, graceful way of moving. It wasn’t hard to believe he was a model- even if you hadn’t met him in the studio, you would have guessed it. He moved like he was always on a catwalk.

The studio was particularly maze-like. There were multiple winding halls with several doors each. Only a few small signs gave any sign of where anything was, and casual racks of clothes strewn around the hallway blocked more than half of them. The harpy, however, strode through the halls with a practiced ease.

After several turns, you finally came across a door marked Studio A12. The harpy pushed the door open and paused to let you through before stepping in himself.

“Revali! You’re late!” An impatient-looking woman glared across the room at him. You froze automatically, but he just put down the equipment he’d been carrying on a nearby table and gave you a wink.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he said. You turned away from him as your supervisor approached you.

“You’re late too,” he said.

“Sorry. I kind of got lost.”

“I know it’s your first week here, so I’m not going to scold you for this, but being on time is important here. At least for the photographers.” He cast a disparaging look at Revali who was chatting cheerfully with the stern-looking woman. “Models get more leeway.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you said. “I thought a lot of models here were kind of stuck up.”

“He’s not stuck up,” your supervisor agreed. “He’s got the opposite problem. He doesn’t take anything seriously. One of those types who float through life on nothing but their good looks.”

The photoshoot started right after he spoke and you were immediately swept up in the business of it all. Your job was essentially doing whatever anyone needed of you, and they needed a lot. You spent most of the time scrambling around, fixing lights, grabbing accessories, fetching camera equipment, and being a general gopher. The photoshoot lasted only an hour and a half, but you were exhausted by the time it was over.

You sagged by the door, waiting for your next task to be assigned. Revali was having some sort of conversation with his manager that seemed to be verging on an argument, at least on her end. Revali looked as casual as ever.

His manager said something stabbing a finger in his face. He didn’t even flinch. He just lifted one of his shoulders in a slight shrug and, with a flick of his tail, strolled away.

“Ready for the tour?” he asked as he walked over to you. He had a particular way of walking, like he was constantly on a catwalk. It really was more of a strut than a casual walk.

“I already said you don’t have to. And, um, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” You made a subtle head motion toward his managers, who was alternating between looking at her phone screen and glaring at him.

Revali tossed his head. “She’s not my mother. She doesn’t control me. I do what I like. And right now, I’d like to take you on a tour of the studio. Why don’t you come with me?”

You glanced back at his manager. Revali shifted in front of you, blocking her from your sight. “All right,” you said. “But it can’t take too long. I’ve still got other responsibilities to take care of.”

Revali nodded and gestured for you to follow him out the door. “Like I said, this whole place is kind of a maze. I swear, they designed every section to look as similar as possible. But, you can figure out where all the studios are because it’s broken into sections. The stairwells are always marked with the sections. Even numbers are always to the right when you get off the stairwells and odd numbers to the left. Here, I’ll show you how to get to a couple of the bigger studios-”

Revali was right- the entire place seemed to have been designed like a weird, spiraling maze. You ended up needing to take notes on everything he told you. When you finally came to a stop, you were almost dizzy from all the turns you’d needed to make.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around. “I haven’t been in this part of the building before.” It was almost indistinguishable from the other parts of the building, with eh same florescent lights and powder blue walls, but there were larger signs next to every door and they were spaced closer together.

“Yes, you probably haven’t needed to come down here yet.” Revali opened one of the doors and stepped inside. It was a small room with a large mirror taking up most of one wall, a couch, a minifridge, and a few racks of fancy-looking clothes. “They’re the model rooms. Those of us who have long-term contracts here get our own little spaces when we’re not working.” He strode across the room and sprawled on his couch.

You stood in the doorway. One of the models taking an interest in you and then inviting you back to his personal room? It was hard to keep your imagination from going places. “Hey, uh. I don’t want to be rude, but if you invited me back here for some, uh, fun, I’m not really into casual flings, so-”

Revali shrugged. “Whether or not we have sex is entirely up to you. I’ve had a couple flings in here. Honestly, they didn’t do much for me.”

If he had been attempting to make you more comfortable, it had backfired. Great. Now you didn’t want to sit down anywhere. You remained in the doorway. “Why did you bring me here, then?”

Revali shrugged. “You seemed overwhelmed,” he said. “And it’s much quieter down here.” There was a series of thumps and cursing on the other side of the wall. Revali glared at it. “Mostly, anyway.”

You plucked up your courage and settled on the couch next to him. He grinned. “Also, it’s lunch time and I like eating with other people. I make way too much food all the time.”

Revali grabbed a few Tupperware containers out of his minifridge and lay them out on the table next to you. Most of them appeared to be some sort of meat covered in a thick sauce. Revali was looking at you eagerly, so you took the fork he was offering and took a bite.

“Oh!” you said. “It’s good!”

“Yeah?” Revali said. “I cook when I’m stressed, so I always have more food than I need.” You took a few more bites, enjoying the richness and spiciness of the sauce over the umami of the meat. Revali leaned back, watching you eat with a strange amount of intensity.

“Um. Are you going to have some?” you asked, gesturing to the food. Revali made a face.

“Can’t. I have my own lunch here.” He pulled out an uninspired-looking salad with a few strips of grilled chicken on top.

“You make food, but then you don’t eat it?” you asked. Revali shrugged.

“The life of a model. I do need to keep in shape,” he said. “But I’m always cooking, so you can come over any time you want. I’ll give you a free lunch.”

“You could try at least one bite,” you said. You lifted a piece of meat on your fork and held it out to him. Revali lifted a brow. “Come on. You made all this. I’ll feel bad if I’m the only one who gets to eat it.”

Revali’s brow lifted a little higher. “Well, if you’ll feel bad, I suppose I have no choice but to spare your feelings.” You had intended for him to take the fork from you, but instead, he leaned forward and picked the chunk of meat off the fork with his teeth. He sprawled back and chewed, eyes closing. “Mm. It is good.”

You glanced around the room. It was slightly messy, with clothes and makeup strewn all over the place. Nothing was dirty, but it was a little cluttered. “How did you get into modeling, anyway?”

Revali opened his eyes and pushed himself more upright. “It was a few years ago. Just started doing a few local things, then I got scouted by my current agency. It’s not the most fun, really, but it’s pretty good money. Better than flipping burgers at a fast food restaurant, at least.” He shrugged. “Never finished college, so my job prospects are pretty limited.” He eyed you. “What about you?”

“I finished college a month or so ago. Studied photography. I’m hoping that this internship will lead to an actual job in the future, because right now I’m kind of living off my savings.” You gave a weak chuckle. “I kind of wanted to do my own photography thing, but, you know. Better to have a stable job.”

“Don’t I know it. I’d love to do some more interesting projects, but these ones pay well, which is what my manager likes.” Revali checked his phone and grimaced. “I’m going to have to head to my next shoot in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you like. Just put stuff back when you’re done with it.”

“I should probably be getting back now anyway,” you said, standing up. “Thank you for the lunch, though. You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you. Come back any time. Like I said, I’ve always got food. Actually, let me walk you back to the photo area. Just to make sure you get there all right.” Revali held the door open for you as you stepped into the hall.

“I’m not that hopeless,” you said, starting to head down the hallway. Revali snickered and you stopped. “What?”

“You sure?” he said. “Because, uh, you are going the complete wrong direction.”

“Oh,” you said. “I. Um. That’s embarrassing.”

“You’ll get used to it. Eventually. Here, I’ll show you the way.” Revali linked his arm through yours. “This all right?”

“Sure,” you said. “Thank you. Again.”

“No problem at all! Now, we should probably hurry, so I don’t get yelled at twice in one day. My manager would blow a blood vessel.” Revali headed off at a rapid trot, forcing you to jog to keep up.

Meeting him for lunch became a regular practice after that. He usually had something new and interesting for you to try, and he seemed to enjoy your company. Every day, you would slip out of work and head down to his dressing room for at least half an hour. A few times, you lost track of the time and had to sprint to make it back to your next shoot.

“They’re really putting you through the ringer, huh?” Revali said as you collapsed on his couch. He was wearing the sparkliest blue jacket you’d ever seen. Whether it was actually for a shoot or not was up in the air- Revali was the sort of person who would wear it out and about.

“It’s all right. I wish I was allowed to do more than just menial labor, though. I knew I was going to get the tasks people didn’t like when I started, but I wish I had more learning experiences. I feel like I’ve barely held a camera for something other than handing it to someone.”

Revali stretched his arms over his head, wings twitching. It was always interesting to watch the way they moved. They were a combination of wings and arms, with feathers sprouting all along his arms and the wing tip and hands separating at the wrists. Whenever he wore long sleeves, he needed to cut slits for the feathers and tied the ends closed around his wrists. They were usually tied closed with some sort of bangle, so he nearly always jingled when he moved his arms. “That’s a bummer. Have you been able to take any photos at all recently?”

“Nah. I’ve been too busy. When I get home from work, all I want to do is collapse. And I’ve been having trouble getting inspiration. I’ve been trying to get out more and do some shoots in nature, because it’s a lot nicer than the manufactured settings we have here, but I’ve been having trouble finding a model.”

Revali sat up straighter. “Having trouble finding a model, hm? Well, isn’t is just so fortunate that I happen to have some skills in that particular department?”

“Are you sure? I can’t really pay you much. That’s part of the reason I’ve been having trouble getting some models. When your job isn’t paying you anything, you can’t afford to hire someone for an afternoon. And I’m just not connected enough to find someone willing to do it for free.”

“I think we can help each other out,” Revali said. “I do actually need some new photos for my portfolio, and I think it would be nice to have a more natural setting. Let me use the photos and I’ll do it for free.”

“You’d be willing to do that? And you’re not too busy? I know you’ve kind of been running ragged for the past few days,” you said.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Like I said, it gives us both something we want.” He whipped a phone out of his pocket and started tapping on the screen. “Let’s see. I’m free Saturday afternoon, if that works for you?” You nodded. “Wonderful. Text me your address, I’ll stop by and you can take me wherever you want.”

Your phone timer dinged and you jumped to your feet. “Oh, shoot, I need to get going. Um, I guess I’ll see you then? And thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Just go.” He waved a hand at you. “I’d hate to see you get yelled at on my behalf.”

You scrambled out the door, waving goodbye to him once more before heading down the hall.

Waiting for Saturday became the highlight of your week. You deliberated over the best location, eventually picking a slightly secluded, riverside area. Revali had agreed to bring some of his own outfits, which he had allowed you to approve. They were simpler than the outfits he usually wore to work, with more natural colors, but he still looked good in them.

You spent a lot of time fussing with your cameras on the day of the shoot. It would be terribly embarrassing for Revali to show up and see you unprepared.

The knock on your door was startling. You carefully placed your camera on your table and hurried to answer it.

Revali was leaning against the doorway. “Hello, darling. Ready to go?”

He was wearing some fancy-looking gold and silver makeup and he’d done something to plump up his tail. It was long and fancy typically, but he’d added long lines of beads and fluff to his tail, making it look even more striking than usual.

“Wow,” you said. You were suddenly overly conscious about how messy your hair was and the fact that you’d just kind of thrown on the first clothes you’d laid your eyes on in the morning. Would it be weird if you made an excuse to go change? “Uh. Do you want to come in for a minute? I just, uh, need to finish something up.”

Revali stepped into your house. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around. You snorted.

“Please. I’m renting a house in the middle of nowhere that has, like, three rooms. Uh, make yourself comfortable. I just need to, um. Grab a jacket.”

“It’s nicely decorated, though. You have a good aesthetic sense.” Most of the stuff you had was from second-hand stores, but it did all sort of go together in a sort of farmhouse-chic way.

You hurried into your room and swapped your old sweatshirt out for a nicer shirt and one of your nicer jackets. The pants were staying, they were good enough. You hurried back out into the kitchen. Revali was examining a few of the photos that adorned your walls.

“You take these?” he asked. They were mostly nature shots, images of animals or flowers up close or landscape shots of rolling fields or mountains.

“Yeah. Most of them were for class. I just hung up the best ones,” you said.

“They’re nice. I like them. Do you like taking picture of nature better? Than of people, I mean.”

“Um. I mean. They’re both nice, just in different ways. There’s something really meditative about taking pictures of nature. It’s peaceful. Working with people can be harder, but it’s also kind of rewarding? Like, taking photos for a wedding is really nice. You get to capture a really great moment in someone’s life and then, when they look back at it, you help them remember the good moments. I like being able to do that for people.”

Revali looked at you. His eyes were bright, assessing. “Why do you work for the studio? It’s not any of those things you said, peaceful or rewarding. It’s mostly just stressful.”

“It makes money,” you said as you headed for the door. “Why do you work for the agency?”

There was a pause, long enough for you to get in the car. “Because it makes good money,” Revali finally said. “And it also means I get my face out there. I like being well known, you know.”

“I can’t imagine wanting that. I like being behind the scenes way more.”

Revali settled back in the seat and watched the fields roll by. “Where are we headed?”

“Um, there’s this nice little riverside area in a stand of trees. I thought it might make for some pretty photos.” You glanced at him uncertainly. “I hope that’s okay with you. I know you said you’d be okay with a nature shoot, but hope you’re not going to be too upset with a little dirt. I’ll try to keep you out of it, but-”

Revali burst into peals of laughter. You twisted your head to stare at him before realizing that you should probably keep your eyes on the road. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t laugh! It just struck me as very funny, but you had no way of knowing, of course.” Revali wiped a stray tear away. “Do you know where I grew up?”

“No,” you said. He hadn’t told you, had he? Revali seemed unoffended. He ran a hand through his hair, which somehow still looked artfully tousled. You were temporarily distracted by the way little tufts curled loosely around his ears. Hurriedly, you turned your gaze back to the road.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said. He fluttered his feathers. “I’m a cockerel harpy- I’ve got my fancy show feathers, but I’m not exactly a bird of paradise. It’s a family thing. I grew up working in the dirt and mud, and whenever I go home, I’m expected to do it again.”

“I never would have guessed,” you said honestly. He had the soft looks of someone who had never worked hard labor, but when you looked him over again, you could see how his smooth muscles might have come from farm work. “Your family didn’t mind, then, you going to be a model?”

“You think I have some sob story about running away from my strict farm father to pursue my dreams of being in the spotlight?” Revali smirked at you. “No. My father was disappointed, I think. He did want me to carry on the tradition. But I’ve got two younger sister who are much more invested in the farm life, so he didn’t have any fears about passing everything on and both my parents are the ‘follow your dreams’ sort, so they probably would have let me go anyway. I’m not sure they understand what I see in modeling, but they support me nonetheless.”

It was a short drive to the little grove. You parked out of the way and gathered your camera equipment while Revali looked around the area. “It’s pretty,” he said, inspecting a spray of yellow flowers. “You have a good eye.”

“Thanks.” You carefully placed the tripod. “Okay, first things first. I want to get some full-body portraits first, then we can move on to the up-close stuff.”

Revali was easy to work with, easier than you would have guessed from the number of arguments he got into with his manager. He posed gracefully, responded to your every critique thoughtfully and carefully, and even put up with your artistic considerations with far more patience than you would have expected. Even when you spent several minutes forcing him to hold a pose while you got the angle just right, he didn’t complain.

About two hours after you had started, you called a break. Revali shrugged his artfully-held jacket back on and lounged against a tree. “Can I see some of the photos?” he asked.

You considered for a moment, then handed the camera over with the same care you would with a baby. Probably more, really. “Just don’t break anything, all right?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Revali said. “I’ve only ever dropped two cameras. And one of them survived with only minimal damage!” You stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “I’m kidding! I’ll be very careful.”

He clicked through the camera’s photo roll. You sat nearby, leg jittering nervously. His expression was inscrutable.

“These are nice,” he said after a few moments. “I mean, they’re quite good. Better than a lot of the shoots I’ve been to recently. I like the shadow and light here.” He tapped at the photo on screen. You leaned over to see which one he was talking about. It was one of the close-ups, where Revali was staring up through the trees. The sunlight dappled leaf shadows across his face and picked up the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

“It’s just a photo of your face,” you said, a little embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s hard to make you look bad.”

“Oh, you’re being too modest. A poor picture can make anyone look bad and my lovely face can only do so much. You’re the one who set up the shot and was all clever with the lighting and whatnot.” Revali gave a little wave of his hand. “Honestly, it’s better than a few of my modeling pictures. And you’re much better at giving direction than most of the people at the studio. I swear, the number of times I just get told to look pouty at the camera is ridiculous. Or ridiculously esoteric shit. ‘Think about your best friend returning after a long time away’ my ass. Just tell me exactly what to do with my face and I’ll do it.” He stopped and gave you a slightly embarrassed look. “Not to make this about me, of course. But yes, you are quite good. It’s a shame you don’t get more projects.”

You shrugged. “I’d like to do more independent stuff. But I just don’t have any connections and I’ve been having a hard time getting gigs and, well, it’s just hard when you’re getting started.”

Revali tilted his head to one side. “Things will get better,” he said. You huffed out a sigh.

“I hope so. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get to do something interesting in my actual job soon.” You fiddled with a few of the camera settings again. “Ready?”

“Certainly.” The photoshoot commenced once more. Revali seemed to be putting his all into the shoot, which you appreciated. He probably could have slipped by with just posing halfheartedly, but he was really putting effort forward.

You spent longer on a photoshoot than you had expected. Revali was nice to work with, cracking little jokes at every opportunity and being patient with any technical mishaps. The sun had started to sink toward the horizon by the time you were done.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said. “I didn’t mean to take up your weekend.”

“I’m really fine.” Revali flicked his tail, combing his fingers through the long feathers. “You apologize a lot, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want to come across as rude,” you said. Revali laughed.

“That’s one thing you certainly don’t do,” he said. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Still,” you said as the pair of you headed back toward his car, “why don’t I buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”

Revali looked down at you. His dark eyes glittered with interest. “If you’re offering, then I’ll certainly take you up on it.”

It took some driving around, but you eventually settled on a small café fairly close to Revali’s townhouse. He selected some sort of salad and you picked out a sandwich. Revali was right, the place was quite good. “I’ve never been here before,” you said. “I guess I haven’t been eating out for lunch as much, though.”

“I’m pleased my cooking is so good to you,” Revali said. He picked at his salad, moving the leaves around more than he was eating them. A knot started to form in your stomach.

“Hey.” Revali looked up. Your tone must have been strange because his expression became serious. “Um. You don’t, um. Eat much.”

Revali lowered his fork. “Ah. I did notice you staring during meals, but I suppose I was trying to flatter myself, thinking it was entirely my good looks.”

You felt hot. “I’m sorry, I know it might be rude to bring it up. But I’m just a little worried. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hm,” Revali muttered. He put down his fork and shifted in his seat. His feathers rustled and ruffled. “I did have some trouble with eating well when I was younger. It never developed into a full-blown disorder, but I have always had a bit of an issue with maintaining my looks. I suppose my current representation isn’t helping with this issue.”

“Your manager?” you guessed. Revali gave a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes. I gained a pound the other week and got a bit of a lecture for it. Apparently, thin men are in right now. Harpies are usually fine boned and slender and all that, but I suppose it’s not quite enough for her.” A swell of anxiety crested behind his words.

You fiddled with a toothpick. “Can you get new representation?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. She is the only available representative for the company I have a contract with right now. And even if I could switch, I don’t have any guarantee that the next manager would be any better. Extreme dieting is not exactly uncommon in the modeling industry.” He sighed, picking up his fork and poking at the salad a few times before spearing a large bite and shoving it into his mouth. “The contract actually expires in a couple weeks,” he said, swallowing the bite. “She’s not happy about it. She really wants me to sign on again, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“What’ll you do if you don’t sign on again? Try to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been modeling for a few years now. I’m not sure what else to do. But I’ll admit, I don’t love the culture. It’s not great for my mental health, in all honesty. I just don’t know what else to do.”

He looked so despondent that you couldn’t help but reach across the table and take his hand. He stared at your fingers for a moment before lifting his gaze to yours. “I’m sure whatever you chose will be the right thing,” you said. “I think, if your modeling career is bad for your mental health, then you can quit. You’re more than just a pretty face, you know? You know more about photoshoots than you think you do. You’ve got a good sense for lighting and you’ve even got a better idea of colors than I do. And you’ve got a really great fashion sense. I think there’s a lot you could do.”

Revali blinked at you for a moment, then his face broke into a breathtaking smile. A blush stole across your face, blazing in your cheeks. He looked unbearably beautiful. It wasn’t just the features of his face, though they were all very good. It was the clear and genuine delight that the smile conveyed. “I don’t think I’ve had someone compliment me so sweetly in a long time! At least, not on something other than my looks.”

“Not to mention, you’re a kick-ass cook,” you added. Revali laughed and took a sip of his water. You weren’t sure, because he had quite a bit of makeup on, but you though you could see a hint of pink tinging his cheeks.

“If I’m looking for a less stressful job than modeling, I don’t think being a chef is a good choice. And I’m not quite good enough to be in the industry. But it is nice to have my skills complimented.” He took another sip. “But thank you. Being a model can make it so your looks are the most important part of your life. It’s good to be reminded they’re not the most important thing about me.”

You shrugged. “Hey, I’m not much in the looks department, so I’m pretty good at looking past that.”

“Now, now, don’t be modest. You’re quite cute yourself,” Revali said, dropping a glittery wink. You felt yourself flushing again.

After dinner, you returned home and bid Revali a farewell. You spent the evening examining the photos you’d taken. Most of them were quite good. At the very least, they would make good photos for your portfolio. You considered them for a few moments, then pulled up the bare bones of your website and started uploading the photos.

The next day, you joined Revali for lunch again. He was wearing more than his usual makeup, but even so, you could see the slight puffiness around his eyes. “Tired?” you asked.

“Ughh. My manager and I got into a fight last night, after I got home. Things were said.” He massaged his forehead. “Tell me something good, darling, I need it.”

“Um,” you said. “I set up my website last night? Or I started setting it up, at least.”

Revali focused fully on you. “Your website?”

“Yeah. Um, I hope you don’t mind, I put some of the pictures we took up there. I want to see if I can start freelancing, at least in my free time.” Revali perked up. The tired look slid off his face.

“I don’t mind. I’m used to having my pictures all over the place. So, you’ve decided to start doing your own thing, now?” He leaned toward you.

“At least a little bit. The hardest part will be getting clients. Once I build up a little bit of a base, I can start getting people by word of mouth and stuff. But it’s difficult now.”

“I’d expect so,” Revali said, but he appeared to only be half paying attention. His gaze had become a little unfocused, like he was thinking about something else. “You know what, my next shoot’s in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you want. I’ll see you later.”

You met for lunch a few times in the next couple of weeks. Revali’s mood seemed to have improved. He was much more cheerful and, to your great relief, he seemed to be eating more.

It was almost exactly two weeks after you’d had your photoshoot when Revali sought you out at work. “I was going to come by for lunch,” you said. “Is something wrong?”

Revali seized your hands. “No. Things are great! I just told my manager to fuck off!” He proclaimed it loudly enough that several people in the vicinity turned toward him. You ignored them.

“That is great! I’m so glad for you,” you said.

“That’s not everything,” Revali said. “I have a surprise for you.” His tail twitched and flicked with excitement. “Follow me!”

Revali tugged you through the building, down to his dressing room. “Okay. Remember how you were talking about having trouble getting clientele?”

“Yeah,” you said cautiously.

“Well, I’ve been a model for a while. Which means I have some connections and some favors.” Revali opened the door and tugged you inside. “So, I thought I’d call some in!”

The room did not look different. You looked cautiously at Revali. “Uh. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“This!” Revali snatched a stack of papers off a table and thrust them at you. You flipped through them. “It’s the information of people who want to have photoshoots! There’s a couple of weddings, one person wants a pet thing, a couple of people want you to take photos for cosplays- I told them all that you were really good and you’re easy to work with and a bunch of people were willing to give it a shot.”

“You got me gigs?” There was a note of incredulity in your voice. “Like, paying gigs?”

“Yes! I told you, I have some contacts and some favors. I pulled a few strings.” Revali fluttered his wings.

“Thank you,” you said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“All the information you need is there. You can contact them all for more information, but it should have the basics.” Revali sprawled across his couch. “I figured that if I was going out, I might as well use my connections for good.”

“Going out?” you said, perching on the couch next to him.

“Yeah.” Revali rubbed at the back of his neck. “I told my manager to fuck off, remember? There’s a solid chance I’ll get blackballed for it, and even if I don’t, I don’t think I want to do this modeling thing anymore. It hasn’t been great for my mental health. And I’d like to be seen as more than just a pretty face.”

“You have plans?” you asked.

“No. I’ve got some money saved up. I figure I can afford to coast for a little bit. And if it really gets bad, I’m sure my dad would be happy to have me back on the farm.” He laughed, but you caught the slight downturn of his mouth. You ran your finger along the edge of the paper stack.

“If you’re interested, these are a lot of jobs. I think I could use a little bit of help,” you said. Revali blinked at you. “I can’t pay much, but it’ll be a little bit of money and if I start getting really good, I can hire you on full time. You’ve already shown you’ve got an eye for this stuff.”

“Really?” Revali said. He stared at you disbelievingly. “You’re willing to do that for me?”

“It would help me as much as it would help you. I mean, you’ve already been a huge help and you’re not even working for me yet. I think we’d make a good team.”

Revali looked enormously delighted. “Oh, thank you! You’re incredible!” With no warning, he ducked forward, his hands came up to the sides of your face, and he pressed his mouth to yours.

Your brain short-circuited temporarily. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. Just a bunch of sensations. Mouth. On your mouth. Kissing. Revali was kissing you. Passionately. His hands were on your face. His feathers were tickling you. His breath was warm on your face.

He broke away from you before you could gain enough sense to kiss back. Revali grinned sheepishly. “Oh. That was sort of supposed to be the grand finale. We were supposed to go out for dinner first. I just got excited.”

You pulled your thoughts together. “You were going to ask me out?”

“I thought you deserved something for taking me out a while ago. And I’ve been thinking about asking you out for a while. But you looked so cute there and I was very grateful, and I just couldn’t help myself,” he said. “I hope you didn’t mind too much?”

“No,” you said. “I didn’t mind. At all.” Revali smiled. You were drawn to the curve of his mouth, the fullness of his upper lip. “But, maybe just to make sure, we should do it again?”

Revali’s smile got bigger. “You know, I was thinking that I’m not going to have this dressing room much longer. There are a lot of things we could do in here. Celebrate our moving on and all that.”

“Let’s start with kissing,” you said, “and we can see where it goes.”

Revali leaned closer to you. “Start with kissing. I can do that.”

[tallyovie-writes]

Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

**

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.