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nikibogwater · 2 years

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A Sparrow Among Lions

“You think Dimitri is wrong to want revenge?” Bernadetta whispered, as though she was afraid to ask such a thing out loud.

“No. I have no right to judge him one way or the other. But I do know one thing.” He met her gaze and held it, willing her to believe what he said next. “No one needs you to hate your father, Bernadetta. No one needs you to want him dead. I can do enough of that for the both of us. But there are plenty of people out there who need compassion, who, unlike your father, would take the chance to be better if someone offered it to them. Whatever happens tomorrow, don’t believe for a second that you need to change."

Or: Yuri knows Bernadetta doesn't have it in her to kill her own father.

Noticed a pretty big and fascinating contrast between Dimitri and Bernadetta that also conveniently gave me the perfect opportunity to push my Yuridetta agenda. Revenge is a huge part of Dimitri's motivations in Azure Gleam, and unlike Azure Moon in Three Houses, everyone around him is on board with it--there's no "live for yourself" moment. Meanwhile, Bernadetta makes it clear in each route that while she never wants to see her father again, she doesn't actually want him to be killed. She even expresses relief in the routes where he survives. And then all of this is made even more fascinating by the fact that Azure Gleam is the only route in which the player can, and must kill Count Varley. So after several months of sporadic keyboard smashing, blank staring, and screaming, I have produced this fic to share with all of you.

Read on Ao3

Or in the post below:

If there was one luxury that Yuri could not afford (in truth, there were many), it was hesitation. Both on and off the battlefield, he did not have time to second-guess or step back. If he was lucky, he might have the opportunity to concoct a scheme or a plan before the time for action arrived. But freezing in his tracks was never an option. Whether he was crossing blades with an Imperial soldier or striking up a deal with a shady business associate, he always had to be decisive. It was a lesson he had learned very early on in his career; hesitating could get you killed. Or at least beaten half to death and left in a gutter.

Which was why he was absolutely furious to find himself hovering just outside of Bernadetta’s tent the night before their great battle to reclaim Garreg Mach.

Why did he always hesitate when it came to Bernadetta? Yuri typically prided himself on being a quick learner, yet here he was, more than a decade later, going through the same motions as he had the night he had tried to kill her. And the most frustrating part of it all was the fact that what he came here for was nowhere near as nerve-wracking as attempting an assassination. All he wanted to do was check on her, perhaps offer some advice or comfort, if it came to that. Why was simple friendship as daunting to him now as the idea of killing an innocent child?

Because I have no right. Because I’m the last person in the world she should be friends with. Because I can’t honestly give her reassurance when the prospect of her father’s death is downright tantalizing to me.

Because I’m afraid she’ll realize all of those things and I’ll lose her again.

“Everything alright, Yuri?”

Yuri’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword as he whirled around. Iridescent green eyes blinked back at him, as moonlight reflected off mint-colored locks splayed over armored shoulders. It was the Ashen Demon.

“Saints, you startled me,” he grumbled, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“My apologies,” she replied evenly. “Though I am surprised I managed to do so. You are usually more alert.”

“Yeah. Guess I’m just a little distracted tonight. You know, what with everything going down tomorrow.” Ordinarily, he wouldn’t admit such a thing to anyone. However, there was something oddly reassuring about the Ashen Demon’s presence--a strange sense of familiarity and warmth that he usually only felt around his mother or long-time friends. Many others had commented on how easily Byleth had settled into their group here--how it felt as though she had always been there to begin with. He had since given up on trying to explain it, and merely accepted it as it was.

“Indeed.” A weighty pause stretched between them for a few moments. “Are you worried about Bernadetta?” she asked suddenly.

“...Is it that obvious? Or are you just clairvoyant?” It wouldn’t surprise him if she really was. There were a lot of things about Byleth that seemed supernatural.

“It is a logical conclusion, wouldn’t you agree? Tomorrow, we will likely face Bernadetta’s father in combat. We may have to kill him in order to take Garreg Mach. You are close friends with Bernadetta, and have been standing near her tent for the last ten minutes.”

“You were watching me that whole time?” Yuri asked incredulously.

“No. I passed by here ten minutes ago on my way to speak with Ignatz. I’m just now returning to my own quarters. But if I may, why are you still out here? Did you not come to speak to Bernadetta?”

“...I don’t really know why I came.”

“Hm.” Though her tone was as neutral as ever, Yuri had the sneaking suspicion that she didn’t buy that lie for a second. “Well, if you are open to suggestions, I would advise that you spend some time with her before we march tomorrow morning. Time spent with our allies is precious. We never know which day will be our last. And it would help Bernadetta’s nerves as well. She finds your presence calming.”

“Yeah,” he agreed halfheartedly.

“Yuri,” Byleth’s voice was sharp and firm, as though he was one of the soldiers under her command. “You are allowed to care for her.”

“I....What?!” he sputtered. But Byleth had already turned on her heel and marched away. Insufferable woman. He had half a mind to leave without heeding her advice, just to spite her. But he also knew that Byleth was rarely ever wrong, especially when it came to her fellow commanders. If she thought Bernadetta should see him, then she was probably right. And if she wasn’t, well he could lay the blame squarely on her now, couldn’t he?

Not really. But the thought had bolstered his courage just enough to enable him to cross the distance between himself and Bernadetta’s camp and loudly clear his throat. A high-pitched yelp issued from within the tent--the usual response. “Bernadetta? It’s me. May I come in?”

“I-I’m not here!” she squeaked, voice muffled on the other side of the flap.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate,” Yuri sighed. “Well, when you get back, can you please let me in? I want to talk to you about something.” Another nervous squeak. “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he amended wearily. “I just want to discuss tomorrow’s battle.” There was a long pause. Then finally, the tent flap drew back just enough to let him inside. Right. Here goes nothing.

Bernadetta let the flap fall back behind him, and stood nervously wringing her skirt as he searched for the right thing to say. It was odd, having to search. He usually knew exactly what to say in any given situation. It was what made him such an exceptional businessman. But for some reason, his carefully constructed facade always seemed to fall to pieces wherever Bernadetta was involved.

“I take it you know we march to retake Garreg Mach in the morning?” he began cautiously. Bernadetta’s hands clenched tighter around her skirt, and she nodded without looking at him. “And Count Varley--your father--we’ll probably end up fighting against him.”

“I know all of this Yuri,” she said softly, albeit a touch impatiently.

“...Yeah. I’m stalling,” he admitted. He heaved another sigh and dropped onto a nearby wooden stool, gesturing for her to sit on her cot. “I’ll just cut to the chase then. Are you going to be okay?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Now she was the one who was stalling. But considering he was the instigator here, he decided it was best to indulge her.

“It must be a lot, having to fight on the opposite side of a war from your family. If it was my mother we had to fight tomorrow, I probably would’ve deserted as soon as I caught wind of where we were headed. No amount of ideological differences between us could erase the fact that she’s my mother. And the thought of having to cross blades with her is...” He trailed off, his mind recoiling from the idea in disgust.

“My father is very different from your mother,” Bernadetta replied bitterly, staring at the floor between them. Though he had long known it to be true, there were certain implications in that statement that Yuri didn’t like the sound of. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask for an explanation.

“Then you’re alright?”

“I....N-no,” she admitted. “No, I’m not alright.”

“Do you want to talk about it, then?”

“No!” she yelped, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were wide and teary with fear. “I-I can’t! If I talk about it, then you’ll hate me!”

“What is it with you and thinking I hate you?” Yuri demanded, exasperated. “Don’t you think if I actually hated you, I would’ve killed you all those years ago? Or any of the dozens of times we’ve been on the battlefield together?”

“B-but you will! You’ll definitely hate me if I tell you the truth!”

“I’ve heard far worse things than the truth, I can assure you,” he scoffed.

“He’s horrible!” she burst out. “He’s so horrible, but I don’t want him to die!”

The silence that fell between them felt as heavy as a cart horse.

“...Nope. Still don’t hate you,” Yuri murmured.

There was only a foot or so of distance between them. Slowly, cautiously, he held his hand out to her. Bernadetta let out a wail and grabbed it with both of hers, sniveling furiously. He had learned early on that physical contact seemed to ground her when she was upset like this, and indeed, once she held his hand between her own, the truth came pouring out as fast as she could draw breath.

But Yuri had been wrong about one thing. The truth was worse than any profanity, any insult, any threat that had been hurled at him over the course of his seedy life.

She told him everything. She told him of the harsh words that made up her earliest memories. Of long, hungry nights. Of the stories she wrote in her journal, later thrown into the fire and burned to ash like the “useless drivel” they were. Of endless hours spent alone and terrified in a pitch black room, ears ringing from the deafening silence. And of a very dear friend who was ripped away from her, who she would long believe had died because of her. Because it was never enough, she was never good enough. No matter how hard she tried, she remained useless, unmarriageable, an embarrassment to her family name. Worthless.

Bile rose in his throat as the pieces he had never wanted to admit were missing fell into place. Strange red marks that he had seen on her arms one afternoon while pushing her in the swing. Her small face pressed into his muddy jacket as she wept for an hour straight, yet refused to tell him what was wrong. Her constant and seemingly inexplicable sense of terror. Her paranoia that even her closest friends secretly wished her harm. Her apparent shock and confusion at hearing Yuri commend her father for protecting her from him.

Up until this moment, Yuri had viewed the prospect of Count Varley’s death as a mere pleasure, much like he viewed the prospect of kicking back with a good stiff drink at the end of a long day. Now, though... Now everything inside him demanded, screamed for the man’s execution. Yuri ached to see Count Varley’s blood pooling at his feet, longed to watch the light fade from his eyes, to hear his rattling gasps as he hung limply on the end of Yuri’s blade. If necessary, Yuri could let some of his personal grudges go, even if he did need a pretty damn good reason for doing so. The Savage Mockingbird, however, offered no such quarter to those who had harmed one of his own. Perhaps Bernadetta couldn’t bring herself to hate her father. But Yuri could. In fact, loathing Count Varley was now easier than ever.

Which, he realized, also meant that Bernadetta must be far, far stronger than he had ever thought before.

“...You’re angry,” Bernadetta whimpered, unable to bear his silence any longer. It was only then that Yuri realized he was gripping her hand too tightly, his own hand white-knuckled and shaking. “See, I told you you would hate me!”

“Enough,” he snapped, releasing her. “Bernadetta, you couldn’t make me hate you even if your life depended on it. But I am angry, you got that part right.” She shrank back a bit, eyeing him fearfully. He forced his voice to soften. “Not at you. Never at you.”

“But you should be!” she insisted. “I....He did all those horrible things to me, a-and he nearly killed you....But I don’t want to fight him! I don’t want him to die tomorrow. I never want to see him again for as long as I live, but I don’t....I don’t hate him, Yuri!” She was crying now, not the panicked, high-pitched wails of anxiety, but quiet, broken sobs of confusion. “I sh-should hate him, I should want him dead, b-but I don’t! What’s wrong with me?!”

“I have no idea,” he replied wearily. “...But I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be better if there were more people like you.”

“H-huh?”

“Compassion isn’t a weakness,” he said haltingly. “It’s a strength, one that a lot of people don’t have or even want. And compassion for your enemies, for the people who have hurt you....Well, that’s a very rare gift indeed. If it weren’t, then I imagine we never would have found ourselves in this war to begin with.”

“You think Dimitri is wrong to want revenge?” Bernadetta whispered, as though she was afraid to ask such a thing out loud.

“You...” Bernadetta’s eyes were shining. “...You think I’m valuable?”

“You are a veritable treasure of unrivaled worth, my dear Miss Varley,” he quipped. “Albeit one that could use a bit of polishing.” He reached out and thumbed away a tear track on her cheek. She giggled and took his hand between her own again, giving it a fond squeeze.

“...Thank you, Yuri,” she whispered. “...Maybe this sounds weird but....I’m glad I was born into House Varley. Because if I’d been anybody else, I might not have met you. And....I’m really happy that I did.”

Yuri had always thought the phrase “heart-melting” was ridiculous. But now, he could think of no other way to describe the wave of warmth that flooded over him, accompanied by a bittersweet ache that he hadn’t felt in years. He looked away and cleared his throat loudly, though he did not try to draw his hand back.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Guess I sort of feel the same way.”

“...Yuri?”

“Hm?”

“During the battle....Can I stay by you? I don’t really know what I’ll have to do tomorrow, but whatever it is, I think it’ll be easier if you’re there with me.”

Ordinarily, this would be the part where he would roll his eyes, heave an exaggerated sigh, and say something to the effect of, Well, I suppose I can’t stop you if that’s what you want. But he had discovered (or rather, rediscovered) over the course of this conversation that being a little vulnerable with Bernadetta....really wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was downright pleasant. So instead, he simply smiled and squeezed her hand back.

“Sure thing, love.”

Thanks for reading! ✨

#fire emblem #fire emblem warriors: three hopes #few:3h #bernadetta von varley #yuri leclerc #yuridetta #fanfic

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lordgirlfriend · 2 years

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my twt drafts are so 💀💀

#girlfriends mentally ill #it’s like venting all the ugliest parts of myself and then filing them away #i have levels of myself that like i feel like if people knew it’d be fine it’s not important enough to me if you know #but then like the ugly shit #the stuff i’m so close to saying out loud but then chicken out bc like if people knew that i don’t think i could look anyone in the eye #i draft it #or i use my old spam/privates #and it’s like #stuff so bad that sometimes i’m like damn maybe i need help #maybe i should tell someone #but at the same time #💀💀#and it’s with everything i share even if i admit yeah i’m in the gutter rn #it’s like .. everyone else deals with their problems themselves and yeah it can get bad and toxic but why can’t i deal with it on my own too #why am i so fucking weak that i can’t deal with myself … i piss myself off so much over this all the time. like why do i have to open my #mouth and embarrass myself like that why can’t i just shut up #and deal with it #everyone else can so why can’t i be strong enough to do it too #and mostly i keep it in just to prove to myself i can even though i’m like . staying up till 3 and feeling so sick of myself i could throw #up #anyways #im experiencing a crash rn #💭

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thirsty4theextraordinary · 4 years

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Come on love, let’s get this freak-show on the road

I’ve been replaying Fallout 4 for like the 100th time recently and again I have fallen in love with Hancock all over again. So this is a little one-shot I wrote up last night that goes through how Hancock is feeling about the SS.

Hopefully you guys like it.

Pairing: John Hancock X Female Sole Survivor

Tags: Fluff, nothing else just some sweetness.

“To think I ever doubted you.”

That was how he had started this, how he had got to where they were now. Of course, she seemed unfazed like nothing had changed. It had been days since their conversation on the side of the road. They had made camp at a local settlement of hers, or rather the Minutemen’s. She chatted idly to the settlers as they sat beside the campfire, unaware of his eyes on her. She had achieved such an amazing amount since coming off of ice.

When they had first met, she had come strolling into Goodneighbour with Nick Valentine at her side. She was beautiful, and fresher-looking than any woman he had seen before. Like a poster of one of those pre-war movie stars. Of course, he was attracted, you would have to be blind not to be but he kept it to himself. And that vault suit hugged her curves aa though it were painted on.

Once they started travelling together that’s when things had changed. Into something that he had never experienced before. She was kind, intelligent, cunning and not afraid to hurt those who needed hurting. He had had pre-existing ideas of what the Vault-dweller would be like in a fight and it was nothing like this. She had the reflexes of a trained killer, and as much as he had thought he would be the one protecting her, it was sometimes the other way around. He couldn’t count the number of times she had stimpak’d him mid-battle, just to turn and shoot his assailant in the face, as though it was nothing at all.

The more they travelled together the more he fell for her. It wasn’t like him, John had always been a lone wolf, content with the occasional one nightstand. He had no problems finding lovers, even turning Ghoul hadn’t dampened his chances. The sexy King of the Zombies had no issues with the ladies. So why was he so hung up on the woman in a bright blue vault suit?

It was one night, when they had stopped to make camp and he looked over at her sleeping form, that he fully understood, that what he felt wasn’t just simply lust, like usual. At first, it disturbed him, he wasn’t used to feeling like this, this intense feeling was scary. The womaniser in him denied these feeling of course and he told himself that the last thing she need was the love of a Ghoul. While he had never had trouble finding lovers, he knew that not all soft-skins were so inclined to his kind. He wasn’t sure he could take the rejection from her. He huffed to himself, she had turned him into a teenager again, nervous about asking out his first girl. John Hancock was a confident flirt, never had he questioned himself before, but then never had he felt like this. She really was something else. And yet he had never expected her to say what she did.

He hadn’t expected the conversation to lead that way, he hadn’t even led it that way himself. He just simply wanted to let her know what a great friend she was, how impressed he was with her moral compass, deep down he wanted to be a little more like her. He felt it was only right that he shared, after all, she had been upfront since day one about her past, and what she was trying to do out here in the Commonwealth. But up until this point, he hadn’t really told her much about himself, only how he had become mayor and why he had wanted to leave. He had just wanted to share, to open up a bit. He hadn’t expected her to turn it on him like that. He had been telling her about what had happened at Diamond City.

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn’t just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way… or I did. Until I met you” He mentally scolded himself for that last part would she notice, question him. But she just kept listening politely, she hadn’t taken it for any more than just a declaration of admiration. No feelings attached. So with a smile, he continued.

“I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It’s meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend.”

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” the words had fallen from her mouth like they meant nothing, like she hadn’t just propositioned him. He couldn’t help the flutter that he felt in his stomach or that grin that spread across his face, he felt suddenly exposed, was she playing with him. But like aways, John use crude flirting and overconfidence to hide his nervousness.

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we’ll get to…. act on those. Heh,” He had said to her. It wasn’t that he regretted saying it, after all, it was the truth. Watching her ass bounce in the vault suit, as she ran and few yards ahead of him as they travelled had undoubtedly been the inspiration for a few impure dreams. But did he want her to think that was all he had to offer? A few nights of passion on the road, just friends until they got into the bedroom. He wasn’t really sure what it was she wanted, maybe that was all she expected, after all, he did have a reputation. He told himself that with any other girl, especially one that looked like her, he would be happy. But as the days went past and he saw her save people who needed saving and take out those that threaten them, he knew he would never just been content with a sex only kinda deal. But it’s not like that had happened either since their talk nothing had happened. But it had been a tough few days, maybe she was simply worn out, he couldn’t blame. Or maybe it was all just meaningless flirting.

“I’m off to bed, thanks for the drink Ben” she suddenly announced standing from her seat beside him, the settler nodded his head to her. She turned to John and bent down.

“Goodnight, Hancock,” she said sweetly before she placed a tender kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture her lips. Just because she made him feel something new, didn’t mean he had forgotten all his moves. She squeaked with surprise at first but kissed him back nonetheless. He pulled away, shooting her his infamous grin.

“You can call me John you know,” he told her and she smiled at him blushing pink.

“Goodnight, John” she replied trying his name out and he smiled like a fool. No one called him that much anymore, but it sounded so sweet coming from her.

“Goodnight, Sunshine” he replied. His whole life he had been running but at that moment he knew, he could never run away from her.

She stood fully and without another word headed off towards the small wooden shack that Ben had offered them for the night. With his mind whirling he took off after her. He closed the door behind him and she looked up from where she was sat on one of the mattresses on the floor. She was going threw her pack, checking out ammo supplies and the like.

“Hey, when you got time, I got something I still need you to hear,” he said as he perched himself in the rickety chair in the corner and pull the slightly smashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Is everything alright?” she asked suddenly looking a little concerned. God, why did she have to look at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers? He took a breath.

“Oh yeah. Better than that. This is just… tricky” he began. Pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He offered her one silently and she took both the pack and lighter from him without a word, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag.

He found himself opening up to her again, telling her things only he really knew. Things he hadn’t really told anyone. How he felt inside, not about her but about himself. He needed to know she understood, that she saw him for who he really was. All his self-loathing out in the open, the real John Hancock on full display. How he was just running away, with no real destination in mind. She hadn’t just listened to him spill his guts she had consoled him.

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason,” she told him with a nod of her head. Hearing her say something like that from her, was like a warm shower, washing away his insecurities, his worries.

“Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you…. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he said with a smile which she returned. Again he took a breath.

“So, lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing…. Which happened sometimes when you’re a Ghoul” there he was joking again, protecting himself.

“If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend” He had used that word strategically, he hadn’t forgotten the stolen kiss they had just had but he needed to test the waters.

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she said her face serious. Was she testing him too?

“Heh. It that obvious? But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.” it was honest, there were no sexual undertones, no joking. He was checking, he knew he could charm the pants off most girls in the Commonwealth but this was more than that, he wanted to check he hadn’t made a mistake.

“Who I fall for is my decision. And I’ve fallen for you” she admitted with a smile and he swallowed hard.

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” he joked, mentally he scolded himself he should have told her how he felt. What she meant to him. But she giggled at his joke and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.“ he said looking down at the lit cigarette in his hand, the long line of ash waiting to be flicked off.

Her hand entered his peripheral vision and he looked towards her. She had thrown her cigarette away and she was holding her hand out towards him. He threw his cigarette out the hole in the shack wall and took her hand. She pulled him to sit in front of her. Her beautiful eyes staring into his soul.

“Look John, I know you joke to protect yourself. But I’m going to be honest now” she said and he blinked his heart beating out of his chest, she was going to tell him that he meant nothing to her.

“When I said I fallen for you” she began, he knew what was coming”

“I really meant it” she breathed holding his hand a little tighter. He let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. She meant it?

“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before,” she said and he smiled so brightly it hurt his cheeks.

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he said and she smiled.

“But I want to check what that means to you. What I mean is, I don’t one-night stands or friends with benefits. I’m either in all the way or not at all. So what do you say?” she said her voice far less confident than he was used to hearing from her. Had she been having all the same thoughts as him? God, he was a fool.

“You don’t know how happy you make me, saying stuff like that. With you, I’ve found the person I was meant to be with. My missing piece. I don’t want to ever be without you. So you wanna make this thing official?” he asked and she smiled so brightly he could feel the warmth of it.

Without a word, she leant forward and captured his lips in a kiss he wouldn’t ever forget. It was passion-filled but loving, with a swift movement he pushed her back so she was lying, her back on the mattress and he hovered above her. He looked down at her grinning like a teenager, who had just seen his first boob. She giggled before she leant up and captured his lips in another loving kiss.

#john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock x reader #John hancock x female sole survivor #John hancok #john hancock fallout 4 #fallout 4 #fluff #fallout 4 fanfic #mayor hancock #john hancock

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ihearthes · 4 years

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Quarantine Christmas Part 1

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff/Smut (Smut in Part 2) Word Count: 2826 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

December 23, 2020

My head spins as I haul my suitcase from the trunk, using two hands due to the heft of the dirty clothes inside. Setting it on the ground, I yank on the handle before grappling with the two shopping bags filled with presents, reaching back for the decorated Christmas tin that is filled with homemade cookies, fudge, and other delicacies baked by my colleagues at Apple Music.

Wrestling with my hands full, I close the trunk with an elbow, shivering in the chilly LA air. At the front door, I want to cry. Dammit. I could clearly remember that when Glenne had given me the code for the front door and the alarm, I placed them in my phone under her contact information.

“FUCK!” The primal scream is released from my lungs, likely scaring the neighbors if any of them are outside enjoying Christmas lights or having family celebrations on this Christmas Eve Eve. Balancing the tin of cookies on top of the suitcase, I set down the shopping bags to reach for my phone. My purse slips off my shoulder, knocking the container of sweets, and in the scramble to rescue them, I nearly fall head over heels into the bushes.

It isn’t until I punch in the numbers and drag my personal effects inside that it occurs to me that the alarm isn’t armed. Had Glenne and Jeffrey forgotten to punch in the code before they left for Palm Springs? Deciding I don’t care, I leave everything by the door as I drag my suitcase to the main floor laundry room, dumping everything in without regard to color or type of clothing. Since we’ve been working remotely the majority of the time for the last fucking nine months, “dressing up” encompasses blue jeans and the occasional blouse, but most of my clothing is sweatpants and t-shirts. Deciding washing the blue jeans and blouses with the sweatpants and t-shirts is the worst idea ever, I fish those out before pouring laundry detergent over the remaining garments and starting the washer.

Glancing down at the clothing currently on my body, it seems completely reasonable to drop them into the washer too. Stripping the t-shirt from my body, I toss it into the swirling water before adding my bra, socks, and leggings to the murky mix. Wearing only panties in the cool house makes my nipples bead.

Ha! I’m sure my nips are happy to get any action after almost a year with no dating of any sort because of the fucking pandemic. Which reminds me that I’ve forgotten my vibrator at home. Shit. Of all the things I don’t mind borrowing from Glenne, I do have a line I won’t cross.

Placing the tin of Christmas yummies on the kitchen counter, I grasp the handles of the two bags of gifts. It might be silly to put them under the tree since I’m the only one in the house, but it will make me feel better. More like I’m at home with my family in Indiana. Less like I’m stuck in quarantine in an empty house for my favorite holiday. Sniffling, I swipe at my nose with the back of my hand as I pad down the two steps into the living room to the tree.

Kneeling at the fake tree, I reach for the switch to turn on the lights. As the colors begin blinking, I carefully withdraw each present, reading the tag before gently placing the gift under the tree. Even my brother had sent a present through the mail which must mean he misses me his year. Right now, we should be challenging each other to the most ridiculous games to see who is the best. Inevitably, he would win some while I beat him at others until eventually we declare a tie. My mother would chastise us both with a grin on her face, implicitly encouraging us to continue our “reindeer games” as my father called them.

From behind me, I hear a shuffling sound. Hadn’t they taken Myles with them? No matter. I could use the company a dog would provide.

“Santa, you’ve changed!” a soft voice exclaims, and I jump, twisting around to find another human wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“It’s you!” Both voices exclaim simultaneously. “What the fuck are you doing here?” We both pause, “Stop saying what I’m saying!”

Out of breath, I stare at him. The Harry Styles. Fuck.

His eyes roam over my body, and it finally dawns on me that I’m wearing nothing but my Victoria’s Secret lace panties. Shit.

Pacing measuredly to the couch without openly cringing, I grasp a wool throw and wrap it around my chest regally like I’ve just exited the pool at some exotic locale near the equator. My shoulders straighten, and I face him openly.

“Are you joining Glenne and Jeffrey in Palm Springs?” My back is a board, and my tone is barely restrained.

“Nope.” His nonchalance combined with his truncated answer pisses me off, per usual.

“So you’re flying home, waiting here for your flight tonight?” The hopeful tone is obvious to me and probably to him as well.

“No.” Those green eyes of his rake over my nearly-naked body, and I shiver. From the cold of course. Jesus. Get your heads out of the gutter!

“Watering the plants prior to returning to the Soho?”

“Uh uh.”

Delayed dread begins to fill my stomach. “You mean --” I clear my throat -- “you’re staying here?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.” Running my hand through my hair, I ponder the impact and my next steps.

“You?” He asks politely, even though I know he doesn’t feel solicitude at this moment.

“Glenne told me I could stay here for a few days. I made arrangements for my place to be fumigated while I was in Indiana for Christmas.”

His raised eyebrow mocks me.

“I’m not going, though. Okay?”

“Why not?”

“Seriously? Where the fuck have you been, Styles? In case you didn’t know, there’s a global fucking pandemic, and all of Los Angeles is locked down. So no -- I am not getting on a plane with a bunch of potentially infected and contagious --” Emotion overwhelms me, and I have to stop and catch my breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I turn away from him so he can’t see the tears that form in my eyes.

“Whatever, Smith.”

“My name --” I draw myself up and gather my anger around me like a cloak -- “is not Smith.”

“Yeah, right. Which bedroom are you planning to sleep in?”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we both stay here?” Appalled, I stare at him with my mouth open. “I’ll get a hotel room.” When I realize my wardrobe is in the washing machine, I softly say, “As soon as my clothes are dry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Smith. We’ll share the space. It’s only a couple of days.”

“Excuse me!?” Anger wells up. “Only the most important days in the entire year!” Superiority makes me stand up fully to him. “Besides, I’ve been quarantining for months. No way do I want to share germs with you!”

“Oh please! As if you’ve got a monopoly on quarantining! I’m perfectly safe. We get tested every morning before we film. When was the last time you were tested?”

“Two days ago!” She’s at her boiling point. “Look, if we're both staying here together, then we’re just going to have to avoid each other. It’s a big house. We can do that.”

“Maybe once you put some clothes on,” Harry comments, smirking in that way he has where the left side of his mouth tilts up.

Mortified, I glance down at myself. Briefly I consider scurrying for Glenne’s closet, but I pause. Why should I rush away? Because he’s male? Because he was here first? Because he’s sexy as fuck and my panties can’t take anymore?

“Fine,” I respond as I brush past him like the Queen of England. “I’ll find something to wear, and then we can hash out the details.”

“Great plan. I’m ordering something for dinner.”

My stomach growls, and I suddenly feel an irrational hatred for that part of my body. How I long to state that I’ve already eaten or that I plan to cook something! But alas, I’ve brought no food with me, and I’ve no clue what’s in the kitchen. If Glenne and Jeffrey even left anything.

“Does that mean you’d like some too?” He gloats, and as much as I would like to smack the grin off his face, I’ve not eaten since a quick bite for breakfast hours before.

Knowing I’m going to have to grovel, I face him. “I’m capable of ordering for myself.”

“Yes, but that’s not necessarily good for the environment, is it? Sending two drivers to the same address from different restaurants?” Pausing, he appears to swallow whatever snarky comment was forthcoming. “Can we agree on this one small thing? I’m thinking poke.”

Shit. Fuck. Goddammit. That’s exactly what I would have ordered. Fuck.

Casually, I shrug. “Yeah, whatever. I can choke down some poke.” As I saunter away, tucking the ends of the makeshift shroud under my armpits, I call back to him, “Spicy please.”

Quickly I make my way to Glenne’s closet, surveying the items there. Ripping down a pair of joggers and a Full Stop Management hoodie, I drop the covering I’ve been wearing and rapidly draw the clothes over my naked body. Nothing I can do about not having a bra, but the hoodie is roomy so I worry less.

In the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair, combing out the curls as best I can in this environment. In no way do I want it to appear that I’m trying to look amazing for Harry. Biting my lip, I admit to myself that the opposite is true. I absolutely want him to fall at my feet.

Which isn’t going to happen, I remind myself. Give up the ghost of a fantasy.

Making eye contact in the mirror, I provide a pep talk for myself. “Listen,” I remind my reflection, “this is just one more fucked up situation in 2020. You’ve gotten through worse. It’s truly a giant house, so there’s no reason -- wait. Why is he staying here anyway?” For whatever reason, I had allowed him to dodge that incredibly simple question.

Tucking my hands into the hoodie’s front pocket, I amble to the kitchen where Harry is just disconnecting his phone.

“Food will be here in 45 minutes,” he promises.

“Why are you staying here again? I missed your answer earlier,” I prompt.

I’m confident I see a flash of embarrassment crossing his face as he lowers his head. “Wine?” He asks, gesturing towards the extensive rack of reds and then the chiller of whites.

Unsure as to whether I should allow the diversion or press, I examine him. His eyes look tired and sad. His clothes, while comfortable, aren’t upbeat. Nor is his current demeanor. Is he okay?

Planting his hands in his hoodie in an unconscious mimic of my pose, he glances at me before his eyes stray to the side, examining the marble countertop. That look tells me more than I need to know, and my empath side emerges as I toss him a life preserver.

“With poke? I think perhaps a Reisling.”

He nods, bending to look through the wines in the cooler before he extracts one, holding it up for me to inspect the label. My eyes start to widen at the vineyard, assuming the extravagant cost, but I calm my features. “Perf!” I declare.

Grasping the wine opener from a nearby drawer, Harry removes the cork as I snatch two wine glasses from the cabinet and place them near him. Carefully comparing the amount in each glass, he pours enough before recorking the bottle. Taking my glass, I move into the living room where I can view the tree. It’s Christmas Eve Eve after all, and I refuse to be deterred from watching the lights twinkle and celebrating the season.

Harry apparently has a similar idea as he fiddles with the sound system before a crackle of ‘Jingle Bell Drunk’ by RaeLynn starts playing which causes me to giggle.

I settle on one side of the sofa, and Harry plants himself on the other side. Separately, we each take a sip of the riesling. My tongue does a happy dance at the flavor on my tongue. “This sweetness will cut the spicy quite well. Excellent choice.”

“You made the selection,” Harry reminds me, and I cringe.

“Oh. Yeah.”

Silence descends as the song proclaims “I’ve been naughty. I’ve been nice.”

“If there was ever a year for this song, this is it.” I announce into the quiet.

“Yeah. It’s been quite the year.”

Sharply, I glance at him. Perhaps I had missed something? “Excuse me? You’ve had one hell of a year, Styles. Grammy nominations aside, there were how many music videos released during this global disaster? Plus a movie!”

“Agreed.” He’s quiet, his jaw clenched, and suddenly his words burst forth as though a gate at a dam has been opened. “But no tour. And almost no family time.”

Wait. Was this superstar feeling some of my emotions? He’d had a stellar year in anyone’s estimation. Maybe I could be more sympathetic.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about tour. I had tickets to Vegas and one of the LA shows.”

His head swivels to me more swiftly than an owl focusing on prey. “You had tickets?”

“HAVE.” I swallow. “Thanks for not canceling by the way. I cannot imagine the bloodbath for getting tickets in the future. You’ve become the ‘it celebrity’.”

A blush is followed by a sheepish smile. “You can always get tickets, Smith. Just ask.”

“I don’t do that.” My voice is filled with the prickles that I feel at his words.

“Do what?”

“Use my privilege to get tickets to shows.”

“Oh. I…” His words trailed off.

Suddenly, I feel less uncomfortable around him. Reaching out, I shove at his shoulder. “You’re a giant star, and you have a ton of fans who want to see you. Me? I’m just happy to be a member of the audience.”

“Really?” Incredulous is what I sense in that one word. “Why?”

“Seriously?” I’m appalled. “Do you not know what an amazing entertainer you are, Styles? Fuck. If I hadn’t been able to see your Fine Line show at the Forum last December, I probably would have cried. You know exactly what your audience wants, and you deliver it. Consistently.”

“But --”

“Hush. Don’t you dare negate your talent!” Taking another sip of wine, I reveal unabashedly, “Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I really enjoy your shows.”

“Smith?” He inquires, and my hand stalls with my wine glass halfway to my mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like my shows?”

Stalling, I run a finger through my hair and empty my wine glass before holding it out to him. “More please?”

He rises, but I can read his reluctance. Within moments, Harry is back at my side, handing me a second glass of the riesling. I can’t help but notice that he’s topped his own off too.

“Answer the question, Smith.”

“My name isn’t Smith. In fact, there’s not a single part of my name that’s related to Smith. Why do you call me that?”

“Tell me why you like my shows, and I’ll reveal the meaning behind the nickname.”

My head feels fuzzy from the wine and the headiness of being near Harry, and I watch the lights flashing on the tree for a few minutes while Meghan Patrick belts out her version of ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ over the sound system.

“You make your fans feel like they matter.”

“How?” His question comes rapidly, and I have to gather my thoughts.

“You...talk to them. Listen to them. Watch them. Appreciate them. It’s rare, Harry. I mean, I’m in this business too, you know. Not every artist does what you do.”

“False.”

“I’m fucking serious, you asshole.” I gulp down more of the wine. “You make your audience feel like they’re your closest friends. I wish more artists did that. Specifically the ones I represent.”

“Oh.” His single utterance is enough, and we sit in pure tranquility for several minutes as the lights blink and Ava Max sings “Christmas Without You”.

“Wanna watch the quintessential holiday movie?” I inquire, looking at him.

“Which is?”

“Die Hard, of course,” is my response. “What were you thinking?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Nope. It’s pretty good. In the top five for sure.”

“Wait. What are your top five?”

“Oh, that’s easy. ‘Die Hard’, ‘Home Alone’, ‘A Christmas Story’, ‘The Santa Clause’, and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly?” I giggle at the joke since ‘Die Hard’ is full of death.

“Fine. But we watch ‘Wonderful Life’ afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Part 2

#my writing #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #caitlin's fic challenge #part1 #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #original writing

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ollie-ollie-oxenfreee · 3 years

Text

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow.

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it.

And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee.

But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies.

Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

“You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words.

“Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

(Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones.

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed.

“No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.”

The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough.

There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk. Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

"Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

“You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

“I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

“Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further.

“You want us to sleep together?”

"No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode.

"How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away.

"I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

"And it won't - make things weird?"

"Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

"Take your time. I'll be here."

Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell.

But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship.

After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her.

...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

“You’re staring.”

Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat.

It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have.

It was.

Gideon was so screwed.

“Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know.

“I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.

Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

The roguish wink apparently had not worked.

“No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened.

“Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

“Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

“I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight.

She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

“It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it.

Another one of those fucked up things they had in common.

An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall.

“I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

“As deep as is comfortable.”

“That’s what she said.”

“It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

“I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.”

Because I think you might already have it.

No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in.

“I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you?

Was I not enough for you?

A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred.

“Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

“Why did you, then?”

A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

“Because I loved you.”

The words hung heavy in the frozen air.

“You - what?”

“I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

Mmf.

And: Darling?

And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away.

“I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more - “

“Who said anything about stealing?”

For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

“What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

“You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

"Yeah? Cool."

"Cool."

Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

"Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

"We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

"Yes. On one condition."

"Anything."

"This might be difficult for you."

"Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

"No sex jokes."

She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo.

The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

(When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

#the locked tomb #tlt #locked tomb trilogy #griddlehark #angst and fluff and love confessions oh my!#the girls are trying to do right by each other and it's a bit of struggle but they're figuring it out

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the-modernmary · 4 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 5)

Chapter summary: Aaron and the rest of the BAU finally make an arrest on their case, and you spend the weekend at Aaron’s.

Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms

prev. chapter || masterlist || read on ao3

I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted

And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted

- Harry Styles, “Medicine”

~~~~~~~

The investigation was slow going, and every day when you got off the metro to get to your internship, you would see the undercover van that you knew had BAU members cramped inside, sitting and waiting for somebody, anybody , to slip up and say something incriminating.

It was weird being at work knowing that it was bugged, but it did wonders for your productivity. Whenever Chris or another one of your friends at the office started to ask you about your personal life, you were able to deflect it with a quick “Sorry, I’m in the zone right now, and I’ve really got to focus!” Usually, you had no problem sharing, but you really didn’t want the FBI to have audio evidence of your retelling of you double fisting vodka Sprites the night before until you passed out in your bathtub.

You also hadn’t seen Aaron since that first night together, which was almost a week ago now. The two of you had been texting back and forth pretty consistently, but you quickly found that there was a variable that wasn’t there two years ago - Jack.

You should have realized that, of course , Jack would be living with Aaron now, but it never crossed your mind. Jack used to live with Haley, and Aaron rarely brought him up to you. Now that Jack lived with Aaron, it made things a little more complicated. It also meant that you couldn’t just show up at Aaron’s doorstep whenever you were feeling lonely, or vice versa. After a long and awkward phone call, Aaron and you had both agreed that it was best that Jack just didn’t meet you, just in case he got attached.

“For now, at least,” Aaron had added at the end, and holy shit, you did not have the time to unpack whatever the fuck that meant.

Especially not with Chris throwing a crumpled piece of paper at you like the two of you were in middle school and passing notes.

You held up the ball of paper with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? You have the desk across from me, you could have just said my name.”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked you, pointedly ignoring your question. “Nina just got the Catan expansion pack and she wants us all to come over.”

You pursed your lips as you thought about the offer. You did love game nights with your friends, but it was Friday night and you were still holding out on the possibility of Aaron maybe being free and inviting you over. It was almost pitiful how touch starved you were after just a few days of not being with Aaron.

“I’m not sure whether or not I’m busy tonight,” you admitted, maybe speaking a little too loudly in the direction of the listening devices, just in case Aaron was listening in.

Chris gave you a knowing smirk. “Oh, are you waiting to hear from your secret lover?”

“Okay, don’t use the word ‘lover’ again,” you groaned. “And what makes you think that it was anything more than a one night stand?”

“Because when you’re not actively texting, you’ve been checking your phone every 20 minutes.”

Your face turned red as you sunk into your seat, trying and failing to hide yourself. Maybe if you willed it hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow you whole, just to save you from the embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were checking your phone so often, but you also didn’t doubt it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, deciding that coming clean to your friends was going to be much easier than having to deal with them bringing it up at every moment possible. Besides, you didn’t have to give them all the details. “I will tell everybody all about him, but later . Not now.”

Chris smirked as he leaned back in his chair, obviously proud of himself. You turned back to your work, mindlessly doing edits as you came up with a cover story in your head.

Ran into an old friend, you could say. We got drinks, and then one thing led to another. That could work, except you came to the realization that you didn’t have any photos of Aaron, which would be suspicious if he was an old friend. You would have to look him up, which you were sure would just lead to a slew of FBI ID photos and news articles, which would mean that they’d just do some major googling of their own. You had avoided looking up Aaron, maybe in fear of what fucked up cases he had been involved in, but your friends would not hesitate.

You could come up with something so ridiculous that they would just laugh about it. Yeah, I got a sugar daddy and he made me sign a nondisclosure agreement, sorry! You giggled to yourself just thinking about it. Aaron would probably be mortified at the thought. Although, he did wear a Rolex, so you guessed that anything was possible.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Chris mumbled, and you just gave a lazy hum as a reply, not really paying attention. “The FBI is here.”

Your head snapped up at that . You whipped your head around so that you could face the entrance, and sure enough, the entire BAU team was walking in like they owned the place, with Aaron in the lead. They all had their FBI vests on, a sight which was way more attractive than it should have been. JJ and Reid stayed at the entrance to make sure nobody got out.

“Everybody, please stay calm,” JJ called out, putting her hands up non threateningly. “Everything is okay, but we need you all to stay sitting exactly where you are.”

A commotion came from the conference room and against your better judgment, you turned your head to watch what was going on. It wasn’t just one person getting arrested, it was every partner. You watched as Aaron spun Julian DuPont around by the wrist and pushed his face down on the conference table and oh, the FBI vest was nothing compared to watching Aaron arrest somebody.

If anybody asked you if you got turned on during an FBI raid, you would vehemently deny it, but watching Aaron take out his handcuffs made your mind flash back to all those times you were in that same position, cuffed and bent over, completely at Aaron’s mercy.

Just as quickly as they came in, the BAU made their arrests and made their way back out. As Aaron passed your desk, his eyes met yours for a brief second and the corner of his mouth quirked up smugly. It was so subtle and quick that even you barely caught it, but you knew that look.

At least you weren’t the only one in this situation with your mind in the gutter.

Once the rest of the BAU was out of the building, JJ and Reid started the process of getting everybody else out of the office so that CSI could come in and finish looking around. When you passed by them, both agents greeted you with a warm smile, like the three of you were old friends.

“Y/N, we’re going to need to get your statement before you go home,” Reid told you as you walked by, and you just nodded in confirmation.

Once you got outside, you were immediately greeted by some agent named Anderson. He needed to get your statement on the work you did with the team, and you quickly gave him the PG version of the story. Your mind, however, was more focused on finding Aaron, who you knew had to be somewhere in the crowd. God, how long did it take to write down a simple statement?

“I’ll take it from here, Anderson. Thank you.”

Aaron’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you spun around to look at him. You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Nice arrest, although I’m surprised. Mr. DuPont doesn’t even drive himself to work, I can’t imagine him waiting out to kill somebody.”

“That’s because he hired hitmen,” Aaron explained. “The victims were all bribing judges to get their cases dismissed, and all of those dismissed cases looked really bad for his prosecuting record.”

You shrugged, placing your hands on his hips. “Probably not as bad as prison, though.”

That actually got a laugh out of Aaron, but he quickly composed himself as another agent walked past the two of you. “Yeah, he’s not going to be practicing law ever again.”

You opened your mouth to say something - maybe to invite him over? You weren’t totally sure - when one of the CSI’s came over to ask Aaron something.

Aaron waved him off, telling him that he would be there in a moment, before turning back to you. “My house will be empty all weekend,” he whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was watching. “Pack a bag, come over.”

Before you could even answer him, Aaron had already taken off. You made your way towards the metro so that you could run home before heading to Aaron’s. You had to fight the smile that was growing on your face when Aaron mentioned packing a bag. Not only was it an unspoken promise of a weekend full of sex, it also meant that he was planning on making room for you to keep some of your stuff at his house. The two of you were quickly falling back into your old routines, and it was weirdly comforting.

When you got to your house, you made a split second decision to change out of your work clothes into a more casual outfit, although it didn’t matter much what you were wearing. It’s not like it was going to stay on for very long. As you packed your bag, you ordered an Uber, knowing it would get you to Aaron’s place faster than the metro.

Sure, you were a little impatient, but it had been so long since you had spent the night at Aaron’s place. It always intrigued you how different it was at his house than it was at yours. You were just staying in a shoebox apartment while you were in college - something liveable and temporary until after you graduated and got a job where you could put actual roots down. Your decor was fairly minimum, an assortment of knick-knacks and photos of your friends.

Aaron’s place was different. It was a certifiable, adult house with framed art and random decorative bowls scattered around. All of his kitchenware was a part of a matching set and his living room looked like all the pieces were picked out by an interior designer. In a weird way, being at Aaron’s house gave you a glimpse of the life you could have in just a few years. Sometimes, it was easy to imagine that you were a part of his world.

You couldn’t think like that, though. Especially not when he greeted you at his door with an eager kiss, pulling you in so that you were pressed against him.

“I’m going to use this entire weekend,” Aaron mumbled against your lips in between kisses. His hands slid up your sides, pulling your shirt off almost immediately. “To thoroughly and completely ruin you, until you can only say my name.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you smiled into the kiss, your fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips, which only encouraged him to deepen the kiss.

The two of you stumbled towards Aaron’s bedroom, only detaching your lips when absolutely necessary and leaving a trail of clothes behind you. You needed to be naked, to feel your bare skin pressed against his. His hands were impossibly everywhere all at once - running up your thighs, cupping your breasts, and gripping your hips so hard that it was bound to leave bruises. Your body burned everywhere he touched and soon all you could think about was him and how badly you wanted him to touch you where it mattered.

Once you got to his bedroom, Aaron pressed you against the wall. You tried to grind against him, but he moved one of his hands onto your hips so that he could hold you in place. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking just enough to make your back arch. “You have no idea how often I thought of you this week. How hard it was to listen to you and not think about how you sound when you’re begging for me. How badly I needed you.”

Your nail scratched down his back lightly, just enough to elicit a soft hiss from him. “Desperation is unbecoming on you, Aaron,” you teased, knowing that would get a reaction out of him.

It worked. One of his hands stayed on your hip, pressing you firmly against the wall, while his other hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back so that your face was lifted up towards him. He kept you at an arm's distance as his eyes raked your body up and down hungrily.

“I’m desperate?” he said scornfully. “Coming from the girl who is so needy that she couldn’t stay away from her phone for more than a few minutes, just waiting for me to want you. I could have called you at any time, and you would have dropped everything just to let me use you, isn’t that right? You’d let me do anything to you, just like the filthy slut you are.”

You visibility gulped at his statement but you nodded obediently, which earned you a sharp tug of your hair.

“Yes, Aaron, fuck ,” you gasped out. “I would have let you do anything at any time, just please…”

Aaron gave you a predatory grin as the hand on your hip slowly made its way up your stomach until it cupped your right breast, thumbing lightly over your nipple. It wasn’t enough to get any real pleasure, but it made you moan all the same.

“You did such a good job this week,” he murmured, looking at you almost worshipfully like he wanted to commit you to memory. “I was going to give you whatever you wanted tonight. But maybe that would make me too desperate .”

You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. “I- I-” you stuttered out. You couldn’t think straight.

“I- I-,” Aaron mocked. “I thought you were a lot more intelligent than that. Come on, Y/N, whatever you want. Use your words. Unless pleasure’s turned you into a stupid whore.” He punctuated the last word with a light spank to your clit, which made you cry out and your legs instinctively try to close.

“I want you to use your mouth,” you begged, arching your back in a pitiful attempt to create some form of contact. Your shoulders pressed against the wall was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Where?” he asked all too casually.

Your breathing was still shaky at best, but you forced yourself to make eye contact with Aaron. He looked back at you expectantly, waiting patiently for your answer.

You slowly raised your hand to point to your left breast, which so far had been woefully ignored. “Here,” you said hesitantly, not sure whether or not he was going to tease you. While Aaron always gave you what you asked for eventually, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you beg for it first.

To his credit, however, Aaron immediately bent down and attached his mouth to your nipple, his teeth gently scraping over the sensitive flesh. His eyes never left yours, he wanted to watch your reaction.

Feeling more confident, you cupped the sides of his face and pulled him off you, and the sound it made was obscene. “I want you to eat me out,” you whispered, blushing as you said it. “I want to feel myself cum on your face, please .”

Aaron smirked as he slid down to his knees, kissing all the way down your stomach. “Good girl, you asked so nicely,” he mumbled against your skin and it sent shivers up your spine. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a perfect few of your pussy, slick with your arousal. “Look at you, dripping down your thighs before I’ve even started. Desperation is unbecoming on you, Y/N,” he mocked. He was using your words against you, and you didn’t even care. You just wanted him to do something, anything.

Aaron ran a finger through your folds, ghosting over your clit. You hips bucked, desperate for more contact, but his finger was already gone. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as soon as you did, you were greeted with the image of Aaron admiring the wetness that was covering his finger. Then he stuck the finger in his mouth, smirking as he did, and you moaned out at the sight. “You taste so good, Y/N.”

“Please, Aaron, I need you to- oh! ” you begged, but you were cut off by Aaron licking a strip up your center, still avoiding your clit.

His hands came around and grabbed onto your ass as he got to work, lapping through your folds. You tangled your hands in his hair, rocking your hips against his mouth, craving more . His tongue teased at your clit, humming every once in a while in a way that sent vibrations throughout you. Without warning, he pushed two fingers into you curling them in just the right spot.

As Aaron’s fingers pumped in and out of you, his lips focused solely on your clit. He flicked it once with his tongue before sucking, relishing in the way you moaned out his name. You tightened your grip in Aaron’s hair as your first orgasm hit you, your whole body shaking and a string of expletives leaving your mouth. But that didn’t stop Aaron.

He added a third finger and replaced his mouth with his thumb on your clit. “You’re going to give me another one,” he practically growled. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you’re a whining mess. This is what you asked for isn’t it?”

When you didn’t answer right away, he turned his head to the side and bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, causing you to cry out. He sucked on that same spot for a little before dragging his tongue over the newly formed bruise.

“Yes, I want that, Aaron,” you cried out. “I want you .”

He reattached his lips to your folds with newfound vigor, making tight circles around your clit. His free hand snaked up your sides to your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple. You continued to beg, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. All you knew was that you were so full of want , want for your second orgasm, and want for Aaron.

Aaron fucked you with his fingers with ease, as if he had all the time in the world. You ground down on him again, chasing your orgasm the best you could. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, but you needed more. You opened your eyes, only to be met with Aaron’s blown pupils, eyes full of desire. You could almost feel his smirk as he wrapped his lips around your clit and pulled .

The heel of your foot dug into his back as you cried out, your second orgasm twice as intense as your first one. Aaron’s fingers kept pumping into you lazily, and even your panting couldn’t cover the filthy sounds it was making. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs.

Aaron slowly removed his fingers from you and lightly swiped them over your clit once more as he stood up, which almost made you completely lose your balance, a sob tearing from your mouth.

He held his glistening fingers in front of your mouth and you opened obediently, moaning as you tasted yourself on him. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, making sure to clean every trace of you off him.

Aaron removed his fingers from your mouth. “Do you have one more in you?” he asked, and it was softer than you were used to. “It’s okay if you don’t. We have all weekend.”

“I need your dick in me,” you said in lieu of an answer. “Please, please fuck me.”

Aaron pulled you to his bed and you all but collapsed onto your back, your legs still shaking from your back to back orgasms. Aaron crawled on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, all the way from your stomach to your mouth.

“You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. All of his movements were gentle, bordering on caring. “Yelling out my name so that everybody can hear that you’re mine .”

He pressed into you slowly, his first few thrusts shallow, and you could see that it was taking all of his willpower to keep teasing you like this. You dragged your nails down his back, not caring if it left marks on him.

“Aaron,” you whimpered, bucking your hips to try and get more movement. “Please fuck me. I need more.”

Aaron was always good at giving you what you wanted.

His hips snapped into you harshly, and you had to attach your lips to his shoulder to keep from screaming out. Aaron thrusted into you hard and fast, wanting to feel every inch of you. He stretched you in all the best ways and your back arched off the bed. You were holding on to Aaron like a lifeline, and all he could do was grunt out your name over and over, repeating it like a prayer.

Your third orgasm came fast, spreading through your body like a wildfire, and you could feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation. Aaron’s thrusts became more desperate and harsher as he felt you squeeze around him. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breathing ragged and you could tell that he was so close-

“Cum for me… Fill me up,” you purred into Aaron’s ear, and that’s all it took for him to finish, holding himself deep inside you as his warmth filled you. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath. You brought your head up to kiss Aaron, slowly and deliberately and filled with… something . You couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

Aaron pulled out of you slowly and flopped onto the bed next to you, but he reached over and held your hand. The two of you laid like that for several moments, giving yourselves time to come back down to reality. Finally, Aaron rolled on his side to check on you. You admired the flush on his body, especially as it rose to his cheeks and made him look like he was practically glowing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your hand. “Can I do anything?”

You turned your head to smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze, before sitting up. Aaron was always so careful about aftercare, which you were immensely appreciative of. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m just going to go to the bathroom. A UTI might ruin the mood,” you joked.

When you returned, Aaron was already in a pair of pajama pants and sitting in bed. He had also laid out one of his shirts for you, which caused your stomach to do flips. Despite the fact that you actually did pack pajamas, you chose to wear his shirt. You could feel his eyes watching your every movement as you made your way back into bed, leaning back against the headboard.

Aaron placed an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, catching his lips in another kiss, this one soft and sensual. You placed your hand on his bare chest as the kiss deepened, and Aaron’s fingers ghosting over your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“So,” you murmured against his lips. “What are your plans for me this weekend?” It was partially a joke, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for just how sore you were going to be on Monday after an entire three days of being thoroughly wrecked by Aaron.

Aaron’s lips curved up into a smile as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, letting his lips linger for just a second too long. “Hm, we can play it by ear. Although, I was thinking Indian for dinner tomorrow night?”

You were too old to get butterflies, but there was something so soft and so sincere in his reply that it made your stomach do flips. Aaron yawned, probably not even giving a second thought to his reply, and pulled you in closer to him.

“Yeah,” you conceded, closing your eyes. “Indian sounds good.” You could deal with the butterflies later.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #my best habit #my writing

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v3nusaphr0d1t3 · 3 years

Text

i know you want it in the worst way

crossposted on ao3: <3

rating: explicit

content warning: gay ass mfs, shameless porn, uhhhh impact play

dabi gets pegged by his roommate tomura / no quirk au / trans shiggy / camboy shiggy series

tomura had made an uncomfortable situation for himself. he currently sat at the kitchen table with his roommate, intent on devouring his half of the large pizza by himself in an unreasonable amount of time. dabi was intent on doing the same. but that wasn’t what was uncomfortable. it was the fact that recently, him and dabi had been getting cozy in between streams. it was new, and very strange.

going into this, tomura was honestly just excited for the views that he would get. but the amount of attention that he was getting because of his “chemistry” with dabi was insane. dabi would sleep in tomura’s bed most nights, or they would fall asleep on the couch together. dabi would make him coffee in the morning, or bring him chips on his way back from… whatever his job was. tomura tended to not get involved, because it wasn’t his business and frankly he didn’t care.

but he had begun to enjoy dabi’s presence in his room when he played games. his viewers had seen dabi plenty, and had taken to making fun of tomura in the stream chat. those that knew who dabi was were particularly relentless. and though tomura and dabi had been living together for nearly a year now, it felt like dabi had just recently begun making himself seen. like he had wiggled his way into tomura’s life, and slowly started to figure out his habits, breaking every wall tomura had up to keep people away from him.

hell, he started doing the chores more. it just seemed like he gave more of a shit. it gave tomura butterflies and also simultaneously made him nervous. it was one thing to fuck someone, but all this gushy shit was frightening. he hadn’t really let himself feel like that in a long time. especially since transitioning. but dabi seemed to take him seriously, and more so not really give a shit what tomura did. it was refreshing.

he hadn’t even really realized he had gotten stuck in his train of thought until dabi was waving a hand in front of his face.

“hello? creep? you with us?” dabi’s sarcasm shouldn’t have been an endearing as tomura found it.

tomura raised a non-existent eyebrow. “who’s ‘us’?” he asked, looking around to further the quip.

“me n’ the ghosts, fuck you mean?”

tomura chuckled, going back to his last bite of pizza, savoring it, and standing up to throw the box away. he set it next to the trash can and moved back to the table, sitting down with a satisfied stomach and a lingering question in his mind.

ever since dabi had made him cry on stream, he had revenge on his mind. he wanted to fuck this man into incoherency. and tomura had the advantage of being able to chose his dick size.

“hey,”

“hm?” dabi looked up from where he was staring off, holding his last slice of pizza.

“can i fuck you?” tomura asked in his plain, monotone voice.

“ain’t that what you were doin’?”

“no, i mean— i wanna fuck you. like, i top.” tomura explained as he set his head in his hands, grin splitting his face.

dabi raised his eyebrows, before matching tomura’s grin. “well, i’m not gonna say no to that. just know, you gotta live up to what i put down.”

“easy.” tomura’s competitive streak made it’s appearance. “be ready by tomorrow night, we’ve got a show to put on. you know what to do right?” tomura asked.

“yes, dumbass, i know what to do.”

“ok, ok. just wanted to hear you admit that you bottom.” tomura covered his grin with his hand, standing up and taking off, promptly ending the conversation.

the next time he saw dabi, he was at tomura’s door later that evening, just watching him play his games. this was part of a strange routine that they had developed, more time spent together recently than ever. tomura looked over and him, and nodded over to his bed, silently telling him to get comfortable. dabi did, faceplanting into tomura’s disheveled sheets and listening to the clicks of the mouse and tomura’s gamer rage.

it was nice, having company like this. it was quiet but it was nice.

and eventually, when tomura’s eyes got tired from staring at the screen, or when he got bored of the same strategies over and over again, he stood up from his chair, popping both of his knees in the process, and made his way to the bed. dabi still laid there, asleep. it was a strange and soft sight that tomura enjoyed. it made him queasy to know that he slept beside this man, completely vulnerable, but he did. he didn’t really know when it started, or what they were at this point, but a warm body was a warm body. and tomura crawled in next to him, feeling the sleeping man stir, only to sling his tattooed arm over tomura and pull them together. it was nice. this was nice.

and tomura woke up before dabi like he always did. it always confused him how dabi went to bed before him and woke up after him. he guessed some people just needed more sleep. he took a cigarette from dabi’s jacket at the end of the bed, making his way to the window to sit in the window sill, feet on the fire escape, as he lit it. he liked the watch the all the people, and his lack of sleep always fueled that interest. he only heard footsteps for a moment before dabi wrapped his arms around tomura’s waist mid-inhale, making him cough and struggle.

“you shithead! i should kill you,” tomura grumbled too loud for the morning air.

“mmm, shut it.” dabi’s morning voice was lovely, and it made the morning feel warm. no more words were said, but they were felt as dabi continued to hold tomura, stealing the cigarette from him. and when it went out, dabi entwined their hands and watched the street below with him.

it was nice, this was nice.

this type of intimacy was something that tomura wasn’t used to. but the other kind, the one they were gearing up for to stream to tomura’s viewers, tomura was very used to.

the heat in his gut flared up more as the day went on, when tomura showered, when dabi went on a run for his ‘job’, and when dabi went to go take a shower, tomura went to get ready himself. he pulled out his box from under his bed, pulling out his 8 incher. he wanted to ruin dabi and this bright pink instrument of doom would seem to do the trick. he found his harness and the lube, and laid them all on his desk as he made his bed and cleaned up his room. it was consistently a disaster, he just tried to avoid the mess making its way into his camera shot. by the time most of his shit was pushed out of view of the camera, he heard the shower turn off and dabi step out of it.

tomura sat back on his bed in his boxers and hoodie, materials in sight of the camera which was on and ready for him to press the “go live” button. his door opened, and there stood dabi in his t-shirt and boxers, looking domestic but sexy as all hell. he had a fire in his eyes as he usually did before the streams. he looked at the strap on tomura’s bed and immediately, his face was red and he was shifting where he stood.

“so— we really doin’ this, huh creep?” he murmured, eyes still glued to the toy.

“i mean— you can back out if you want, i haven’t started the stream—”

“no! no, i— i- uh. i wanna.” dabi cut tomura off, already stammering over his words.

and tomura was already obsessed with the shade of red dabi was turning. the white-haired man shuffled his way over to the laptop, making sure all of his settings were in check and all of his links worked, before looking back to dabi.

“ready?” tomura asked, and dabi nodded, sitting back on the bed.

tomura started the stream, waiting a few moments for the viewers to flood in.

“hi! welcome back, you guys are in for a treat this time. it’s my turn to fuck him stupid, as revenge.”

tomura would never get over the way he acted in front of a camera. it was so freeing, which was strange. he felt more natural in front of all these strangers than he did in public. it was absurd and he adored it.

>> hellz yeah!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

>> Peg the cissie

tomura chuckled at that one. his viewers always entertained him, whether by being inconsolably horny or genuinely funny. either way, he turned back to dabi, grin splitting his face. there was a glint of excitement in the other mans eye, and he could tell this was going to be fun.

tomura made his first move soft, moving his hands up dabi’s tattooed legs to rub his thighs, leaning in for a kiss that was softer than the ones that they had shared before. he started everything off slow, making his way between dabi’s legs as they kissed. it was a push and pull, less biting, and less aggression. though, because it was them, playful nips were a given. tomura earned a nice breathy chuckle from dabi when he moved his hand up to grip the base of dabi’s head by his hair, carding his fingers through it.

when they had to pull away for air, tomura moved on to dabi’s neck, kissing along his jaw to suck a mark onto him, high up on his neck. practically impossible to hide. tomura liked that. dabi was still surefire, breathing only slightly sped up. tomura slid his thigh in between dabi’s to give him something to work his hips on, and he did. he grinded his hips against tomura’s thigh as tomura sucked more into his skin, biting onto the junction between dabi’s neck and his shoulder, making the aforementioned man whine almost pathetically.

“oh— you sound really pretty, dabi.” tomura was always a bit insecure of his voice, whiney and craggly, but dabi seemed to enjoy the sentiment. it made tomura’s gut clench, the way dabi’s breath caught.

“why don’t we open you up, huh? can i eat you out?” tomura wouldn’t be able to spew any filth like this if the camera wasn’t on. it was the false confidence, the performance. but the words were true, dabi really was gorgeous in this moment. tomura didn’t believe how he hadn’t seen it before.

“god— yes, yeah—” dabi’s reply was deep and gutteral, leaned back on his hands as he spread his legs. tomura took to getting dabi out of his pants, pulling his boxers down himself and pulling him by his thighs to lay spread open. tomura was on his stomach, level with dabi’s crotch as he let out little puffs of breath to watch dabi arch into nothing. it was insane how responsive the man was already, and tomura hadn’t even touched him. he had to do this more often.

“jesus— get on it with, will ya’?” dabi’s tone was laced with annoyance, looking down at tomura with a blush on his face and a glint in his eye. tomura’s grin was mischievous as he moved to kiss along dabi’s inner thigh.

“that’s no way to ask for something. you know what you want. ask for it.”

and this was where dabi’s stubbornness kicked in. his lips stayed sealed as he arched against nothing. tomura sat up, moving back from dabi and looking him in the eye. tomura took to running his fingers along the inside of dabi’s legs, up his torso, to his chest, over his nipples, and back down. feather light, only enough to make goosebumps erupt all over.

tomura could tell dabi was trying really hard not to give in. not to move. to do nothing.

“beg. i know you want to.” tomura being able to get away with being a shithead was gonna go to his head if it continued to feel this good. tomura leaned in, just over dabi’s ear, and dragged his nails over dabi’s outer thighs.

“good boys know how to beg, dabi.” his voice was still that monotone, with a hint of mockery. and dabi caved.

“please. please, please please—”

“better than that, i know you’re smarter than that, pretty boy.”

“i need you, tomura, give it to me, give me something, please—”

having dabi like this without even touching him was definitely getting to tomura’s head. but dabi had done good, so tomura moved down and licked a stripe over dabi’s hole. he heard him gasp, so without letting the other man get his bearings, he immediately began his assault, circling his rim with his tongue and running it up and over his taint to swirl the tip of his cock. he moved back down to push his tongue in with little flick, opening him up slightly with the glide of the wet muscle.

above him, dabi was trying to hold in his whimpers and moans, moving one of his hands to muffle himself before tomura, without discontinuing his attention to dabi’s hole, grabbed his arm and shoved it back to the bed. dabi’s next groan was fully exposed to the camera and was like music to tomura’s ears.

tomura knew dabi had a thing for the camera. he knew it from the second dabi asked to join him. so tomura made dabi the star this time. and by god was he doing it well. tomura pulled back and wiped his mouth with his hoodie sleeve.

“you sound really good,” tomura murmured, finally grabbing the lube and hearing dabi sigh in relief with the pop of the cap. he was rock hard and practically leaking against his stomach.

tomura poured some out on his fingers, trying to warm it in his hand but apparently failing if dabi’s hiss was any indication of temperature. he rubbed his fingertips along dabi’s hole, hearing dabi’s breathy whines speed up.

“what did we learn last time?” tomura asked leisurely, looking dabi right in his hazy eyes. he continued his ministrations, teasing but never fulfilling, just never enough to satisfy. he wanted to drive dabi insane, and patience was key. he wanted this boy to beg and pant for the camera, to scream out for him. he wanted dabi to fall apart like putty in his hands, and all he had to do was wait.

but he wouldn’t. yet again, he was denying tomura his sweet, wrecked words yet again. tomura wouldn’t have that. he removed his fingers from where they were running light little circles against dabi’s hole and used his non-lubed hand to run his fingers lightly across dabi’s inner thighs again. dabi groaned in frustration and dropped onto his elbows, giving tomura a death stare like no other. the fire in his eyes was bright, and tomura wanted to dive in and burn. he gave a lazy smirk as he dipped his hand into the crease between the other man’s thigh and his pelvis, running his finger down and avoiding the spot where dabi wanted him the most.

“fuck off,” dabi moaned these words despite their meaning, and tomura could tell that they were not meant to be taken literally.

“you’re such a mess already, and i haven’t even fucked you. come on, say what you gotta say. be good, for once.” tomura was spouting off, dripping wet in his boxers as he leaned in over dabi.

“make me, creep. make me, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.” dabi’s tone betrayed how fond he was of the situation he was in, though still whiny as all hell. tomura almost didn’t want to give him what he was so obviously baiting for. still, tomura would never pass an opportunity to whip the other man into shape.

he wasn’t the strongest, but dabi was in such a shaky state that he was able to manhandle him on his stomach with his ass up, face pressed into the pillow by virtue of tomura’s hand on the back of his head. and without hesitation, tomura laid down a smack hard enough to rattle his teeth on dabi’s ass. he saw the other man light up and he heard a groan loud enough to be loud through the pillow. tomura couldn’t imagine what the chat looked like right now. he didn’t care. they wanted authenticity, he would deliver.

tomura watched a print of his hand slowly appear on dabi’s right asscheek as dabi waggled his hips to try to entice tomura further. he decided to bite, laying another smack just as hard where his thigh met his ass, hearing a loud gasp as dabi drooled onto the pillow. and another, and another. he continued with a few more until dabi was whining into open air, little mewls and whimpers coming from where he had turned his head to the side to breathe better tomura’s hand sneaking its way into his hair and pulling occasionally.

tomura leaned over dabi, right up next to his ear, and murmured, “you wanna be a good boy now and beg for it? come on, i don’t have all day.” his fond little words combined with the stinging pain on dabi’s ass must have made the wall in his head break down.

“please, please gimme somethin’— i need it, c’mon, tomura,” dabi stretched out his lovers name like a prayer, clinging to every syllable like it would satisfy him in tomura’s absence.

either way, tomura finally spread dabi’s cheeks and slowly slid one finger in with surprising ease. he heard dabi whimper yet again, and knew he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to add a second. he did just that, working through whatever resistance the other man’s body posed him. dabi was already a puddle beneath him, little breaths driving tomura up the wall. he was about at the end of his rope here. he wasn’t a patient man, but something about dabi made him one. he couldn’t see himself spending this much time riling anyone else up, and it was strange to see this man make him so different.

he added another finger, watching with hungry eyes as his fingers were repeatedly engulfed. he curled them up against dabi’s walls and watched the man deflate. it was almost amusing.

still, he decided to finally take mercy on the poor thing and stood up to put on the harness. he heard dabi whine and turn over, hissing when his ass hit the bedsheets. tomura got his dick strapped into the harness and turned around with a half assed ‘ta-da’ gesture, smiling when dabi let out a husky little chuckle at the imagery of tomura’s bright pink strap against his black boxers.

he got up onto the bed, seeing now the product of his teasing in the way dabi leaned into his every touch. he lubed up and lined up with dabi’s hole, moving one of dabi’s legs to be on his shoulder. dabi was all limbs, so it was surprisingly easy. and for how leggy he was, he was unexpectedly flexible. tomura began to push in, making eye contact with dabi as he leaned over him, nearly folding the poor man in half as tomura laid one hand beside dabi’s head.

in this process, he had nearly all the way pushed into dabi, and the man below him was losing his mind.

“f- fuck i— i didn’ think it was that big—” dabi’s murmuring was more to himself, but the words went to tomura’s head for some reason. he was smirking as dabi tried to wiggle to get that last bit inside of him, groaning like he needed it.

“tomura, god, please,” the desperation in his voice was the straw that broke the camel’s back. tomura slammed the rest of the way in, and started a relentless pace. the impact of tomura’s clothed thighs against dabi’s raw skin was just another sensation that he could practically see the other man drowning in.

and tomura didn’t know what it was about him, his pretty eyes, his miles of tattooed skin, his long and clumsy limbs, his raspy voice and his overall demeanor, but the feelings that head built up for this man made it all the more breathtaking to watch him fall apart. and tomura couldn’t help but tell him, the camera made him more brave than he was.

“you’re pretty like this.”

“tomura, harder—”

“good boy,”

that little coo of two simple words made dabi keen, throwing his head back, long expanse of his neck exposed and just so gorgeous. tomura was going to lose it. tomura brought a hand up from dabi’s hips to his neck just to fit his hand around it. it felt dangerous, dabi so open and vulnerable for him here, opening up for tomura on film.

“you like that? you like being good for the camera? for me?”

dabi’s breathing was heavy staccato as he arched off the bed, and tomura took his over leg over his shoulder to fuck into him faster. tomura could tell he was nearing his end, hiccups of breath accentuating the way his eyes rolled back into his head at a particularly hard thrust, the drag and friction of the synthetic cock inside him too much for him to bear. he was flushed from his ears to his shoulders, a gorgeous color that tomura was currently particularly obsessed with.

“t- touch me tomura, please, i need to cum—”

“you wanna come? go on, convince me some more.”

“please, i’ll be so good tomura, give it to me, c’mon— i want it, can i? please,” he was repeating himself, so out of his own head to even produce a more intelligent answer. eventually his begging turned into these messy little moans that had tomura feening.

he sounded too pretty, and yet again tomura caved.

he swiped up some of the precum that had accumulated on dabi’s stomach (gross but effective) and started working dabi’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“cum for me, dabi, you’re allowed. you’ve been good for me, come on,” tomura coaxed the other man along as he finally reached his orgasm, spraying all over his own stomach and even managing to land some on tomura.

dabi took a while of deep breathing to finally calm down. in that time, tomura ended the stream with a warm goodbye and promise for more and went off to get tylenol, water and a rag.

wiping jizz off your fuckbuddie’s stomach wasn’t supposed to be particularly tender, but the way dabi’s eyelashes fluttered until the soft touch made tomura’s heart flutter. gross. dabi was a blushy mess, he presumed because of the other man’s prior begging and pleading for tomura’s dick.

“hey, tomu?” his words were barely above a murmur.

“hm?”

“you didn’t get off, did you?”

tomura had completely forgotten, so caught up in dabi’s pleasure and entertaining the viewers in the heat of the moment that the throbbing heat in his dick was slammed back into him at the mere mention of it.

“get yer’ ass over here,”

#shigadabi #shigaraki tomura #dabi bnha #bnha dabi #bnha shigaraki #touya todoroki #no quirks au btw

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staywritten · 4 years

Text

A Chance│Lee Know

Synopsis: You fall the heartbreaker. College!AU

Genre: Slow Burn, Angst (if you squint), Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3k

You and Minho had a somewhat complicated relationship. The two of you became close during your senior film course last semester. It was an unlikely friendship that happened over countless late-night editing of your short film. Meeting up before and after class became such a routine. At first, you thought of him as a bit of a nuisance but he really did wear you down.

Minho was the star midfielder on the football team, the charming and handsome actor staring in most of your school’s productions. He was well-liked and always the center of attention. You, on the other hand, did your best to fade in the background.

Minho found you hiding out in your usual spot, the mostly empty computer lab near the theater building. He grinned catching your attention-holding up a lunch bag.

“Hey” he sat across from you with that annoyingly charming smile. “I brought you lunch”

You tried your best to fight off the smile, but it melted when he slid the brown paper bag toward you. “I brought kimbap”

“Don’t you have something better to do” you unwrapped the kimbap shoving a piece into your mouth.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m done with class and practice for today so I have an open schedule to bother you.” he leaned his head on his hand, smiling at you as you switched between eating and editing.

“Is it good?” he quirked a brow, his tone teasing.

“Why does everything sound so dirty when it’s from you?” you turned to look at him, glaring at that smug look on his face. “You literally flirt with everyone”

“Get your mind out of the gutter sweetheart.” he scooted closer to you, placing a hand on top of your knee. “Besides, if I was flirting with you, you’d know” his eyes darkened as he watched you.

“Noted” you whispered before shoving a kimbap roll into his mouth and knocking his hand off your leg.

“What are you editing anyway?”

“I helped Moonbin film an acting reel, I’m just editing it for him.” you turned to look at him, feeling his mischievous glint. “Can you behave and let me do this?”

“Don’t I always behave?” he cocked his head to the side and winked.

“Almost never” you tried to ignore him as you edited the clips, eventually he stole one of the earbuds from you and placed it in his ear. His hand occasionally playing with your fingers as you edited with your left.

“Are you cold?” he frowned, his fingers laced between yours. “Your fingers are cold…”

“Maybe a little, you know how they keep the computer lab.” you shrugged it off, you were almost always cold.

“Here wear this” he grabbed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” he gave you a cheeky grin. “You look good in my clothes” You rolled your eyes before going back to your editing, but he was right. You really were warmer.

It was comfortable, almost too comfortable.

The next day Minho found you editing in the quad at a table under the tree. “There you are” he smiled bringing you water.

“You stalking me?” you smiled back, graciously accepting the water.

“Maybe you’re stalking me” he wiggled his brows.

“Dream on lover boy” you scoffed.

“What brings you to the wonderful outdoors?”

“A freshmen class hijacked my computer class” you grumbled taking a bite of your instant ramen. He opened his mouth whining for you to feed him too. “And now you’re stealing my food” you laughed, giving him a mouthful of ramen.

“My poor baby” he squatted beside you looking at your computer. A pout forming on his face once he sees that you’re still editing Moonbin’s reel. “Here’s an idea, how about you edit something for me?”

“You just wanna make me stare at you” you rolled your eyes.

“I do” he grinned. “I’m always staring at you, and you never look at me” he grabbed your chin, making you look at him. His beautiful dark brown eyes, dazzling you.

“Do you ever get tired of teasing me?”

“Not at all” he grinned, showing off that bright gummy smile.

A few weeks and you still saw Minho as often as you did in class. He always found time in between his breaks to have lunch with you. He’d tease you, you’d shoot him down and you grew more and more comfortable in his presence. Admittedly you looked forward to your little lunch dates. Your alone time was cherished.

You decided to visit campus on your day off. You had no classes and you were allowed to leave work early since it was pretty dead. You packed lunch with some food from work to surprise Minho with since he always did it for you. Looking in your hand mirror you smoothed down your hair that may have fallen out of place on your walk to campus. It was probably the first time that you bothered to do something new with your hair in a while. You even opted for a dress versus your usual comfy jeans. Did you want to admit that you may have developed a crush on Minho? No, but you weren’t gonna lie to yourself completely and ignore the little flutter in your stomach every time he looked at you.

You spotted Minho on the football field with his teammates. That same carefree smile on his beautiful face as he juggled the ball with his feet.

You weren’t sure how to approach him, he was always the one to come to you. But you didn’t want to interrupt him or get him in trouble with his Captain or coach. Eventually, you settled on waiting on the bleachers until practice was over.

The girls sitting on the bleachers eyed you, and suddenly you regretted sitting in such an open area. You watched Minho for a moment before looking at your phone, trying to distract from the obvious stares. You were terrified of social interactions especially when you didn’t know how to defend yourself. You knew what they were thinking. And you didn’t know the answer yourself; Why were you here? Why were you subjecting yourself to this?

After a few minutes, you could still feel them staring, whispering. Maybe you should just go? It was better to save face and abort mission.

You grabbed the lunch bag, and stood up, getting ready to hightail it out of there.

“Hey” one of the girls called out to you. She was beautiful, slender, sharp features. You felt any confidence you have waiver. You tried to ignore her, pretend you didn’t hear her. Maybe she wasn’t even talking to you. She waved her hand in front of you, laughing. “Helloooooo`” she chimed playfully.

You raised your head to meet her stare and felt yourself crumbling. “Y-yes?”

“I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you waiting for someone?”

Was this a trick? Why did she want to know? Why were you so paranoid? You nodded, finding it hard to keep up eye contact with her.

“Sit” She sat back on the bleacher and pat the seat next to her. Your resolve crumbling instantly as you took your seat. “You don’t have to be nervous, I’m Yeji, I'm the dance team captain. We share the field with the football team. Are you dating someone on the team?”

Your gaze shot up “N-No, I’m just friends with someone…”

Her smile brightened as she nudged you “Is it Minho?”

You looked like a deer in the headlights. Were you staring that hard? “I..” you faltered.

“I see you guys in the computer lab sometimes” Her shining smile brightened as she looked at your dress. “I’ve never seen you wear something so cute, it suits you a lot”

“Oh…” It was all you could utter, your face was flushed from embarrassment. “Th-thank you”

“You guys are cute, did you bring him lunch” she wiggled her eyebrows, gesturing to your lunch bag.

“Are you always so forward?” you laughed nervously.

“It’s part of the charm that comes with cheer” she winked. “Were you gonna leave?” she frowned.

“I don’t think I should bother him…”

“Practice is pretty much over, I’m sure he’s hungry” she beamed “Don’t give up”

You nodded “Thank you Yeji...I think I needed to hear that.” you smiled, finally introducing yourself. Your anxiety becoming a smaller voice in the back of your head as you relaxed a bit more.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, and I hope I get to see more of you.”

“Are you dating anyone on the team?”

“Ew, No” she laughed “That’s my brother, Hyunjin” she pointed to the goalie. “I’ve known these guys since I was in high school, they’re pretty much family.”

Hearing the coaches whistle, they wrapped up practice. Grabbing their gear and making their way toward the locker room.

“Go Go, ask him now” Yeji patted your back.

“Now?”

“Yeah before he goes inside.” she encouraged you, pushing you toward them.

Now or never, right? You walked toward Minho, your anxiety eating at you before you called his name.

He turned around, his widening as he saw you approach him. His lips turned upward in a smile seeing you in a dress. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just wondering...If you were busy after practice…” you chewed on your bottom lip, struggling to look him in the eyes.

That familiar smug smile graced his lips again. “Oh? And Why’s that?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me…?”

Changbin and Han ran up to him “What’s taking you Hyung?” Changbin swinging his arm around Minho’s shoulders. “Oh who’s your friend?” he teased.

Minho’s demeanor changed almost instantly, that playful glint gone, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “No one. Let’s go.” he walked away first, disappearing in the building. The other two shrugging before following behind him. You stood stunned, he’s never brushed you off before. He’s never acted like that.

Yeji ran over to you and smiled “What’d he say?”

“I don’t think he wants to have lunch with me?”

“Did he say no?”

You shook your head “He sort of just brushed me off”

“Maybe he was embarrassed” she grabbed your hand leading you into the building.

“Yeji whyyyy?” you whined, letting her lead you “Why are you trying to help me?”

“Because I know you like him but you’re shy and I’m not gonna let you give us before you even try”

“But why?”

“Consider me your local support extrovert” she giggled “And you’re so cute, and I don’t want you to give up”

You pouted as she waited with you outside of the boy’s locker room, her hand wrapped around yours to make sure you didn’t leave. Her overwhelming confidence in you did help, even if it was a little.

The voices in the locker room echoed as you could hear one particularly loud voice inside. “Minho-Hyung who was that girl? She your girlfriend?” You couldn’t hear his response, but you did hear the faintest scoff.

“Yeah Hyung I didn’t know she was your type, She’s a little homelier than your usual girlfriends, still cute tho-”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a classmate.” his voice was getting closer and you felt your grip on Yeji’s hand loosen. “You guys know me. Since when am I into charity cases?” he laughed “She just edited something for me, that’s all.” You could hear a few more laughs before he continued. “Besides I like my women a little more glamorous-” his voice faltered as he turned out of the locker room. His eyes locked with yours. Your name a whisper on his lips.

You stood sunned, eyes filled with tears that you fought so hard to keep them from falling. You pulled your hand from Yeji’s grip. “I’m sorry I’m a charity case” you pushed the lunch box into his chest before running off.

“Wait!” Yeji yelled out for you but you had already run out of the building. “You’re such an asshole” She glared at Minho before going after you.

Minho raked his hands through his hair and groaned, clenching on to the lunchbox. He’d never seen you so broken. And he wanted nothing more than to run after you and tell you he was being stupid, but he didn’t deserve it. “I’m going home…” he grumbled before heading out in the other direction.

When he got home, he tossed his bag on the floor and cuddled with one of his cats that greeted him. Opening the lunch box his frown deepened. It was such a cute meal, filled with all of his favorites, delicately placed in the lunch box.

He couldn’t shake you from his mind. He could pinpoint the moment your heart shattered. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like, he loved spending time with you, wearing you down until you smiled at him. Especially given how cold you were to him when you first met. You were just one of the few people that he felt like he could be himself around. It was easier going in when you just treated him like a classmate, you were tough on him, didn’t let him charm his way through the assignment. There was no need for him to put up the super nice guy front. He didn’t have to be Lee Minho, the star midfielder or Lee Minho the actor. He was just Minho the guy that liked to joke around and eat cheap kimbap from the convenience store.

You were frugal, mindful. College was expensive and it was easy to get wrapped up in spending money you don’t have. You were the only other scholarship student he hung out with. And while he loved his team, he couldn’t always swing those expensive lunches that their school sold, or afford to go clubbing all the time. It took all his penny pinching just to keep up the facade. The only way around it was to hang out with these glamorous rich girls that liked to dote on him.

He found comfort hanging out with the only other person that didn’t care who he was.

And he went and broke your heart. He called you a charity case.

When you so generously opened your heart to him. He needed to make this right.

He tried calling and texting you and even waited for you in the computer lab. It’d been about two weeks and he hadn’t run into you once. It was like you changed your entire routine with the sole purpose of avoiding him.

It was only by chance that he saw you across campus walking with Yeji and Moonbin. Yeji waving goodbye to you before heading inside her class, before you and Moonbin disappeared inside the library.

Minho’s heart sank a little, it wasn’t that you were anti-social perse. You just rarely hung out with people outside of class. He moved before he could overthink it, finding himself watching the two of you study in the library. You excused yourself to go find a book and he followed. Should he be ambushing you inside of a library when he was pretty sure you wanted to curse him out? No, but was he running out of options? Yes.

You ran your fingers along the spines of the book, searching the reference numbers when you heard your name being called. You knew the voice well. Your heart sank, your shoulders slumped. “What?�� you answered, not bothering to look back at him.

“Since when are you and Moonbin so close?” Idiot, he cursed himself he knew damn well the first thing out of his mouth should have been an apology but he couldn’t help it. It slipped out before he could stop himself.

You turned around to glare at him, incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I just don’t remember you guys hanging out like this”

“Minho, believe it or not. Some people actually don’t mind spending time with me in public.” you huffed. “I guess being a charity case is only repulsive to you.”

“I’m sorry…” he closed his eyes taking a breath. “I didn’t mean any of that, I just-”

“Didn’t want the guys to know that you were friends with some poor, homely, scholarship student.”

“I- that’s not.” he sighed. “I love spending time with you-”

“As long as no one knows it”

“I was an idiot. An absolute idiot. And I panicked. The guys were teasing me, and you looked so pretty and you’ve never sought me out before...I was overwhelmed. I was an asshole.” he raked his hands through his hair, frustrated. “I just wanted them off my back...I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did. You did hurt me and you did say that.” you sighed, rubbing your temples and closing your eyes. “Look Minho, I know you’re not a malicious person. But that’s all...I forgive you for your little outburst”

“So we’re good?” he smiled brightly grabbing your hand “We can go back to normal?”

“What? No, Minho. I forgive you saying that because you’ve never been that much of an asshole to me. But I’m not going back to hanging out with you. I don’t wanna give your friends a reason to tease you for hanging out with a charity case.” you scoffed. “I’m not gonna forget that you said it.”

“But I like you”

“And I thought I liked you but-”

“Hey, you get lost back here?” Moonbin laughed, turning the corner to see the two of you talking. “You ok?”

“I’m fine” you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t think they have the book, can we just share yours?”

“Of course, C’mon, let’s get back to studying” he ushered you away from Minho sensing the tense atmosphere, even amongst the hushed argument.

“Three minutes please…” Minho whispered, his hand reaching out for yours desperately. “Give me three more minutes and you’ll never have to hear from me again...please…”

Your shoulders, slumped. “Fine...three minutes” you glance at your watch. “Moonbin, I’ll meet you back at the desk.”

He looked at you skeptically before nodding and walking off. “Call me if you need me.”

“Three minutes, starting now”

“I like you a lot, and I know I was an asshole and I know you put yourself out there and I hurt you but I don’t wanna lose this.”

“And I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of a bunch of strangers.”

“I promise I’ll never do it again...I just want a chance.”

“A chance at what? There isn’t an us to save. We were classmates, turned acquaintance. But even if I forgive you and we hang out again. I’m never gonna be the glamorous girl you want. I can’t afford to pay for you and go to ritzy clubs just so you can save face.”

“And I don’t want that...I want lunch under a tree...I want to share cheap ramen. I want the girl that doesn’t let me get away with anything” he grabbed your hand. “Do you really not like me anymore?”

“That’s not fair…”

“Because I really like you...And I know that if I let you walkway again you won’t give me a second chance...so please….” at some point he’d backed you against the bookshelf, a small sigh escaping your lips.

“I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“But you’re what I need…” his nose brushed yours “I can’t stop thinking about you...and I love every moment of it…” his hand cautiously reached your face, he scanned your expression; desperately searching for permission.

“Are you going to kiss me or keep staring?” your gaze fell to his lips.

“How much time do I have left?” he smirked, glancing at your watch.

“45 seconds…”

“More than enough time” he grinned pulling your lips to his, smiling into the kiss. It felt like such a heavyweight had been lifted. Both of you so insecure in the other’s feelings. Hiding behind walls, and avoiding a formal confession.

Your gripped the front of his shirt, not sure what to do with your hands. All you knew was that you wanted him closer somehow. You coaxed him into opening his mouth, by teasing his top lip between your teeth. The smallest of your whimpers, covered with his low groan.

His fingertips traced your jaw subtly, holding you closer to him. You giggled into the kiss, eyelashes fluttering open against his cheek. “Your times up.” you nipped at his lips.

“I’m going into overtime,” he whispered, pressing kisses along your jaw and under your ear.

“I have to get back to studying” you whined, trying to cover your panting once you felt his teeth.

“Don’t...don’t leave me again” his voice was so small and desperate.

“Minho…”

“Be my girlfriend…”

“We haven’t even gone on a proper date, aren’t you getting ahead of yourself.” you held his face in your hands, squishing his pouty face.

“Yeah, I am. But I want to try.”

“What if we spend more time together and realize it was just a crush and it doesn’t work out?”

“Then we break up. But I need to try…. I need to try and make this work…”

You laughed and shook your head. “Fine… Fine… we’ll try.” you pecked his lips again.

There was no telling what tomorrow was going to bring, but you knew the least you could do was try.

End.

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ Hey Friends <3 I hope you guys enjoyed that long one shot. If you did let me know

I’m also working on a rather long Social Media AU that I’ll be posting soon and hopefully updating daily. I’ll be posting a teaser for that in the next few days.

-D❍MI

608 notes · View notes

farfromparker · 5 years

Text

Just like this | t.h.

Pairing: Friends to Lovers!AU Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You’re his best friend, and he’s been in love with you for the last 3 years. Harrison finally convinces Tom to do something about it.

Warnings: masturbation and some good soft smut!

A/N: I decided I want to write some softness so here it is! Clearly my mind is in the gutter more often than not considering how long I’ve been trying to finish this.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel, staring out the windshield. The snow is coming down heavy and with the wind, drifts are starting to form on the edge of the road. The blacktop is getting harder and harder to see and he’s doing his best to keep the vehicle in between the lines. He won’t voice his concern out loud though. You’ve already asked him six times if he feels comfortable to keep driving. He can hear your words over his head, We can stop for the night somewhere but no, that wasn’t part of the plan. You had to make it to the cabin tonight.

He smiles to himself as he hears you grumble under your breath. “It’s December 20th, how is no station playing Christmas music?”

He takes one hand off the wheel, reaching past you to open the glovebox, his knuckles skimming across your knee. “Here.” He says, digging through it and finding a classic Christmas cd.

You beam at him, “Oh perfect! But keep your hands on the wheel.”

He laughs but does as you command, turning his attention back to the road, hands on the steering wheel. You push the disk into the player, putting the case in the door pocket.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas starts playing and you smile, humming along softly. Tom’s smiling as well, sneaking glances at you out of the side of his eyes. His heart starts to beat faster as he thinks about his plan, about the cabin, about having you to himself for two days.

“Just tell her.” Harrison says, annoyed to be having this conversation for the millionth time.

“She’s my best friend Haz! I can’t just -”

Harrison holds up his hand, “First off, ouch.” He says gesturing to himself. Tom rolls his eyes, “Second, yes you can just tell her. You can’t keep doing this yourself, pining after her. She’s finally single and you have to just grow some fucking balls and tell her. And if she doesn’t like you, which I’d bet my life she does, you fucking deal with it and move on.”

Tom sighs, rubbing at his eyes. He hates that Harrison is right. “Fine, okay, you’re right.”

Harrison smirks, basking in the fact that Tom finally admitted it.

“But how do I tell her?”

Harrison narrows his eyes, “With your mouth?”

“You fucking prick, you know what I mean. I want to do something special.”

Harrison groans, “Not everything has to be a fucking production Tom. You could just tell her flat out.”

“Not when I’ve been in love with her for three years!” And fuck, has it really been that long??

“Fine alright, just… take her to dinner.”

“No.”

Harrison glares at Tom, “If you don’t want my help...”

“I want your help if it’s actually gonna be useful, dinner isn’t special.”

“What? Do you want to rent a hot air balloon and bring expensive wine and dinner in a picnic basket and confess your love from 600 meters up?”

Harrison gapes when he sees Tom actually considering it. “No you fucking div, that’s way too much.”

“Then help me!” Tom whines.

“Christ, alright.” Harrison takes a deep breath and actually does some thinking. Clearly Tom can’t be left alone with this. “What about your parents cabin?”

Tom’s shoulders slump, “The one we’re all going to next week? Yeah I definitely want to do this in front of you lot.”

“Take her up there before us. Harry and I can come up with some excuse for all of us to not be there until Sunday or something. That gives you two nights alone with her to do it. Chop some wood for her, be manly and sweep her off her feet. Light the fireplace, say the heat doesn’t work so you have cuddle under some blankets.”

The gears start turning in Tom’s head, “Yeah... yeah! You’re goddamn genius, Haz.”

45 minutes later and he’s turning down the seclusive road leading to the cabin, relieved to have made it. The trees bend and twist above head as he drives and when the cabin comes into view, he can sense your excitement. He glances over and sees you smiling, you look at him, eyes sparkling and he’s grinning back at you.

“It’s like it’s from a movie.” You say dreamily as he cuts the engine. The moon is full and even though his headlights are off you can still see clearly. His shoes crunch under the snow as he steps out, popping the trunk to get your bags.

“I can’t believe I’ve never brought you here before.” He says throwing your duffle over his shoulder as he grabs his own.

“Yeah what the hell Holland, I thought you loved me?”

You have no idea.

“And let me carry my bag, I’m not helpless.” You say as you shut the trunk, catching up to him and bumping your hip with his as you walk towards the front porch.

He smiles, bumping you back, “I know, I’m being gentlemanly.”

“Well then let me get the door for you, sir.” You propose, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans to fish out the keys. He sucks in a breath as your fingers ghost along his thigh.

You work the lock and step inside. Tom follows, setting your bags inside as he closes the door. You flick on the lamps around the living room, the soft yellow lighting filling the room.

“Oh my god Tom, it’s just as cute inside as it is outside.”

He can’t stop smiling as he watches you flitter around the space, checking out the two bedrooms and then you notice the ladder, “There’s a loft! Tom, please tell me we’re sleeping in the loft?!”

He laughs, nodding, “Anything you want, y/n.”

And he’s so happy seeing you this happy. And he thinks about how tight the living space is up in the loft, how there’s only a single queen mattress up there, how the small fireplace in the living room is really the only heat you’ll have. It’ll be chilly up there and all he wants to do is pull you close and tell you how his heart races every time you touch him, smile at him, laugh at something he said, say his name, call him Tommy. He fucking melts.

“Tom?”

“Huh?”

You laugh, legs dangling off the ledge of the loft. “Throw me our bags.”

“Nah I got them.”

But it’s awkward, climbing up a ladder with a duffle bag thrown over each shoulder. And you haven’t moved, arms crossed over your chest, eyebrow cocked in I told you so sort of way. He grabs the railing on either side of you and stares you down. You purse your lips and he has to remind himself that he can’t just kiss that expression off your face.

Finally you laugh, moving out of the way so he can crawl up, “You’re so stubborn!”

He laughs too, throwing the duffles off to the side, “So are you.”

You smile, “Yeah, two peas.”

Tom finds a bottle of whiskey in the fridge later and you gag as soon as you see it.

“Nope, no way.”

“Ah come on! We’ll pour it in tumblers and drink by the fire and pretend we’re old snobbish white men.”

A small chuckle leaves your lips and he knows he has you. He tilts his head to the bottle while he digs out the glasses. Reluctantly, you grab it and follow him into the living room.

There’s enough wood left over from the last time he’d been up here to heat the cabin through the night. He grabs the matches and stacks a couple logs into the fireplace. You gather some pillows and blankets from the couch and toss them onto the floor.

The whiskey goes down easy for the both of you, faces red from laughing and the heat of the fire. The more he drinks the heavier everything feels, every touch, every time you say his name.

You’re between his legs, head in his lap, and he’s not really sure how you got there. You keep fumbling with the edge of his sweater drunkenly, smiling up at him as you tell him a story. His whole nervous system feels fried. Your fingertips keep brushing against his stomach and the skin feels torched under your touch.

Tom looks down, counting your lashes as they lay against your cheeks. Your eyes are getting heavy. He lifts his leg to get his arm underneath you, “C’mon love, time for bed.”

You sigh happily into his arm as you both stand, “Okay, love.” You return, teasing him for the overuse of the pet name. He blushes.

He puts the fireplace screen up and turns the lights off, hanging back nervously as he watches you climb the ladder, hands suspended in the air in case he has to catch you. When you get to the top you look back down at him and his hands drop.

“I’m not that drunk,” you say proudly considering the amount of whiskey you drank. “You know I can handle my alcohol Tom.”

He laughs, knowing you’re right and he climbs up to you. When he reaches the top, you’ve turned your back to him, stripping out of you shirt and he watches as you deftly squeeze the clasp on your bra. It falls from your arms and he feels the air leave his lungs.

He turns, feeling like a creep, blush heavy on his cheeks, he can feel it. He groans internally, you’ve changed in front of him before but it all feels different because he couldn’t do anything about it before. You always had a boyfriend and Tom would never. But now, he’s got so much he wants to say that could completely change the dynamic between the two of you, whether good or bad is yet to be determined.

He strips down to his boxers, annoyed with himself. And when he turns he knows what to expect but that doesn’t change the fact that his heart starts racing. You're wearing an old tshirt of his, one he gave you years ago, and no pants. And god he should sleep in more clothing but he never has before when you’ve shared a bed and he’s told you a million times how he always gets so hot when he sleeps and he doesn’t want to be weird about any of this… fuck.

You crawl into bed, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil and look back at him. “Gonna come to bed or just stand there all night?”

He tries to laugh but it’s tight, he feels like can’t fill his lungs properly.

He gets into bed and you immediately cuddle into his side, arm draped across his stomach, head buried in the crook of his neck. He can feel the hammering of his heart and he worries you can hear it too. God is it as fucking loud to you as it is to him?

He takes in a deep breath, hand rubbing along your back as he pulls you in closer.

“Y/n?”

You hum and he feels you shift, tilting your head up to him. His heart clenches then, what if you don’t want him, what if you don’t see him like that, what if…? The fear paralyzes him and can’t say it out loud, not yet. Because if you say no, if you say you don’t feel the same way… he doesn’t know what he’ll do. So he takes this moment for his own, selfishly, to feel you in his arms, legs tangled together because if you don’t want to be with him like this, he can at least have tonight.

“Goodnight, love” he musters out, voice soft.

You hug him closer, “Goodnight, Tommy.”

You grind against him, lips on his neck and he whines into your ear. He grips your hips tighter, angry that you’re still in your underwear but he’ll take anything he can get.

“I’m so wet for you Tommy.”

His cock aches and he wants your kiss, wants to feel what it’s like to be inside you, wants your moans against his lips. He wants, wants, wants.

“Gonna make cum just like this.” He groans. He doesn’t want it like this but your movements aren’t stopping and he has no self control to stop you himself.

“Yeah,” you purr in his ear, “cum for me Tom.”

He gasps, eyes snapping open as his heart hammers in his chest. You stir against him, fingers skidding across his stomach and he clenches. His cock twitches in his boxers and he can feel the wet spot he’s leaving on the fabric.

You’re tangled together still and he hears your breathing change. No, please no.

“Tom? Are you okay?”

He grunts, moving away from you and you untangle your limbs. “Yeah,” his voice is hoarse and he throws his legs over the side of the bed, trying to figure out how to make sure you don’t see his obvious erection as he calculates the distance from the bed to the ladder. “Just a weird dream.”

He feels your hand on his back and he jumps, “Sorry!” You pull your hand away, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No!” He shouts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “Fuck, sorry, no I just - um I’m gonna shower.”

He can feel your eyes on him and he can barely focus. He grabs his whole bag and throws it downstairs before awkwardly climbing down the ladder, doing his best to shield his crotch from your view.

He closes the bathroom door and locks it. Just to be safe. He squeezes his eyes shut and his dream replays behind his eyelids, “Fuck.”

He strips out of his boxers and turns the water on. He steps into the tub and turns the shower head on, the water hasn’t even fully warmed up yet but he has to touch himself. As soon as he wraps his hand around his cock he can feel you grinding down on him. His eyes slip shut and he can see you, he can hear you praising him, panting in his ear.

A small moan slips past his lips and immediately he presses them into a thin line. The cabin is small, he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye if you were to hear him.

He strokes himself faster, dizzy with arousal from the dream. It felt so real, he could smell you, feel you under his fingers. He squeezes the head of his cock, the tightness in his groin building and he gasps when he cums, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying your name out loud.

He sags back against the shower wall, panting, haunted by the ghost of your touch across his skin.

You’re dressed when he gets out of the bathroom, touching up your makeup in the mirror by the front door. He watches you for moment, mouth popped open slightly as you apply mascara. He turns away, reminding himself he can’t just stare without it being weird. He misses the way you watch him through the mirror.

There’s a small town just a few minutes away and you head in to get more alcohol and some food. It’s cloudy but the storm has passed. Snow is piled high everywhere and you comment how it feels like you’ve been dropped into a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.

He bites his tongue.

It’s early afternoon when you get back to the cabin. You’re unloading the groceries when he clears his throat, “Wanna help me chop some wood for the fire?”

You smirk at him, “You mean do I wanna watch you chop some wood?”

He shrugs, smiling, “I mean I can put a show on for you if you want.”

You laugh, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I do always enjoy a show.”

He heads outside and you follow. The axe is in the shed behind the cabin and there’s an old stump, riddled with cuts and gashes, sitting in the middle of the backyard. There’s a stack of logs piled high close by, most with a circumference that would rival your wingspan.

“These logs are massive.” You say.

“Yeah, dad has a logging friend up this way so he always makes sure we’ve got enough to keep the place warm.”

He sets the axe down next to the old stump and grabs the first log. He positions it how he wants, acutely aware of your eyes on him. When he’s happy, he grabs the axe and goes through the motions of chopping the log in half, feeling the weight of the axe in his hands. He brings the axe around again, following through quickly and with the force it needs. The crack of the log echoes around the trees as it splits in two.

He hears you gasp, and he glances up at you as he arranges the two halves off to the side. Your eyes are wide, mouth parted slightly and pride swells in his chest.

“Holy shit, Tom.”

He smiles, “What? Did you think I was all talk?”

“No! I - yeah I don’t know. I just didn’t expect… you made that look so easy?”

He smiles wider, “Well, you know I don’t like brag but-”

You laugh, “Bullshit, you love to brag. Which again brings up the fact that I didn’t know you could chop wood.”

“There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere.”

“Oh fuck off, I’m complementing you, ya asshole.” But you’re laughing still and this part of the plan is definitely chalked up to as a success.

The rest of the afternoon passes by like a soft tune, easy and comfortable. You bring the halves of the log inside and stack them next to the fireplace. Cook pasta on the gas stove, spilling marinara sauce only twice. And soon you’re settled in on the pillows in front a fire burning logs Tom chopped up for you.

“Turns out Hollywood is actually kind of rugged.” You say, smiling over your glass.

Tom winks, flexing his biceps at you and you push his shoulder, laughing.

You move in closer, cuddling into his side, watching the fire crack. “I love spending time you Tom. You know that, right?”

His heart rate picks up and he wraps his arm around your waist. “I know. I do too. I -” he clears his throat, hands starting to feel a little clammy.

He just can’t bring himself to say out loud, not yet. He reaches for his drink and takes a large swig. Drunk Tom has way more confidence than sober Tom.

“You had a sex dream about me last night, didn’t you?”

He chokes on his drink, “I - what?”

You take another sip and put your drink aside. You look him in the eyes as you shift in his arm, pressing against him. He swallows thickly. “You were hard when you got up. And all that chopping wood today? Trying to be manly for me?”

“I - I didn’t - I was trying -” to be sexy? No, he can’t fucking say that out loud.

Your hand is on his thigh and you reach up to take his drink out of his hand, setting it out of the way. You crawl into his lap, straddling his hips and rake you fingers up through his scalp, rubbing at his head. His eyes slip shut at the sensation. “Are you ever gonna tell me how you feel?”

His eyes snap open. You’re staring back, he can see the challenge swimming in your irises. Just say it you fucking coward. His heart is pounding, and if he were to take his hands off your hips he knows they’d be shaking.

He takes in a deep breath, “Y/n, I - I love you.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, leaning in to brush your lips against his, “I know.”

Finally you kiss him, lips slipping together, and those knots and nerves melt away. You want him. You want him the way he wants you. But he has to know more, so he pulls away, eyes searching yours and he can’t stop smiling.

“Really?”

You smile back, eyes crinkling, “Yeah, really. And I love you too.”

You kiss him again, moving your hands to get up under his shirt, pushing it up and off his body. His lips find yours again, pulling you in closer. Your hands are on his stomach, fingers pressing along his skin and he’s trembling under your touch, overwhelmed with the idea of possibilities laid out in front of him.

You pull away to kiss along his jaw, “Wanna take me to bed?” You breath against his skin.

“Fuck yes.” He moans.

You stand, pulling him to his feet and you’re both giddy with anticipation. He watches you climb up the ladder and realizes he can finally put his hands on your ass. So he does, reaching up to squeeze one of your cheeks.

You stop and give him a look. He shrugs, “I can do that now so you’re probably gonna have to get used to my hands all over you.”

You bite your lip, sitting on the ledge of the loft as he climbs up. He braces his hands on either side of you when he reaches the top and you tilt your head up to him, “That’s a two way street, love.” You murmur, tracing the outline of his cock through his jeans.

He sucks in a harsh breath, “Fuck me.”

You smile, kissing him quickly, “Yeah,” before getting up and moving towards the bed.

You strip down to your underwear and he shucks out of his jeans. He’s reaching for you when, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any condoms with me.”

“Oh, uh,” he blushes before walking over to his bag and digging out a box. He smiles at you, slightly embarrassed.

“So you had plans for us this weekend, huh?”

He laughs, “I’m nothing if not hopeful.”

He sets the box on the bed. You crawl onto the mattress and his hands find your body, settling on top of you as you lay down. Your hips slot together and you grind up against him, feeling how hard he is for you. He moans into your mouth, rocking back to meet your movements.

That overwhelming sensation returns and he feels himself twitch in his boxers. You open your legs wider to him, hooking a thigh around his waist.

You arch up into him to get your bra undone, tossing it aside before pushing him up for a moment so you can get your underwear off. “C’mon Tommy, want you inside me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he fumbles to get out of his boxers quickly, groping around to find the condoms. While he’s reaching for them, you wrap your hand around his cock and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“God, I’ve been dreaming about this cock for so long. I’d fuck myself with my dildo and pretend it was you.”

He presses his head into your shoulder, whining as you touch him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.” He gasps, thrusting up into your hand.

Finally, he just rips the box open, condoms spilling across the bed. You laugh, hand stilling and he can think straight again for a moment.

He sits back, ripping into a packet and with shaky hands he rolls the rubber down his length. He feels your eyes on him and as he glances up he realizes this is the first time you’re both really seeing each other naked. His breathing is already labored but looking at you, naked, legs spread for him the world stops spinning for a moment.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He whispers. “Wanna explore your body with my mouth, then my hands, everywhere.”

He accentuates his point by running his hands up your body, squeezing your breasts, rubbing your nipples and marveling as you arch into his touch, sighing.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives, lover. No rush.”

Yes we do.

He pushes into you slowly, watching your expression change, the pleasure written across your face. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, your pussy is so hot and tight and wet around him.

Your lips find his and he moans into your mouth as you start rocking up to meet his thrusts. Your fingernails dig into his back, scratching at his skin as his thrusts increase. He shivers at the feeling, thinking about how the marks will be there tomorrow, marks you left on him.

You break the kiss to breathe and he rests his forehead against yours, eyes locked on yours. He grabs at your arm, sliding down the length of it to intertwine your fingers. You squeeze his hand and you can see the emotion pooling in his eyes. The build up of three years pouring out of each of you in this moment.

“I love you.” He breaths.

“I love you, too.”

You cum with his name on your lips, squeezing his hand, and he’s done for. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin as he pulses inside you, shaking from the intensity of it.

“Holy shit.” You laugh, out of breath.

He’s smiling, lifting his head so he can look at you, “Yeah, I’m gonna need to do that at least three more times tonight.”

You glance over at the condoms spilled out across the bed, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

***

Harrison puts the key in the lock, opening the door and he’s surprised when it’s quiet inside. It’s close to 11am. He glances around the cabin, the fireplace is empty and he can see two half empty glasses of whiskey on the floor, along with Tom's shirt.

He narrows his eyes and that’s when he hears a moan of Tom’s name. His eyes go wide as he sputters, slamming the front door shut behind him to alert you two he’s here but also to stop all the Holland brothers from walking in on this.

“Hey! Yo! Like really happy for you guys but we’re here! Please don’t come downstairs naked!”

He can hear you cussing and there’s a loud thump that he’s sure was Tom falling off the bed. Tom peaks over the ledge of the loft, cheeks red, blanket wrapped around his waist.

“Hey mate. Uh, we’ll be right down!”

Harrison sees you peek around Tom’s shoulder and you wave at him, blush on your cheeks.

He smirks, “Hi y/n,”

“Hi Harrison.”

You both manage to make it downstairs and actually look presentable before the brothers come inside. Their voices boom around the cabin, stuffing their faces with snacks from the cabinets.

“So you guys are finally together huh?” Sam asks around the cookie in his mouth.

You nod, smiling as Tom reaches down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Harry nods, “Cool.”

“Yeah whatever, I just wanna sleep in the loft!” Paddy says, moving towards the ladder.

Tom chokes on the crisp in his mouth, eyes going wide as he looks at you.

“No!”

Taglist:

@xximaweirdoxx @selfcarecapmain @billythebully09 @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @honeymarvel @billieishottttttttt @lovinnholland @oh-annaa @little-miss-naill @holland-in-disguise @wordless08 @multifandomgirl-us @tiktok-spideyy @fangirlfree @theolwebshooter @headlights95

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #my writing

2K notes · View notes

sugargliderowl · 4 years

Text

Thoughts About Remus' Playlist

So as usual, this is my first reaction/rant/analysis about the playlist! This time, it’s Remus’ Playlist. I think it’s going to be cursed. But a... good cursed, if that’s a thing. As usual, feel free to add on to this! It’s good to share thoughts and talk about meanings, even making predictions about the future!

General Overview Before Listening: I love Yugen_sama ‘s artwork; her style makes me happy! Also, Remus doing that? TOTALLY HIM. Just looking at the choice of songs does mirror Roman’s playlist in a way with their own anthems, Tenacious D, maybe an etc. We’ll have to see on that. His explanation with all the emojis is definitely him, and I think that’s all I can say. Just look at it.

Reminder: Before we go on, a little reminder for your safety. The songs can be quite... a handful. If you know about Remus’ personality and interests but still wanna read the overall analysis, go to the TL:DR at the way bottom without reading the specific song analysis. If you remember the TW from the video, that really applies here. Stay safe.

Song Analysis:

This Devil’s Workday: Genius told me that this is about a criminal going mad. Yeah. The blazing trumpets and the really radio-like voice in the song is kinda creepy, but that goes with Remus as intrusive thoughts! He’s very obtrusive, and he’s everywhere without any filter. It’s a good intro to his character. The poor sack of puppies in this song goes back to his theme’s lyric, “your pet dog stuffed into a sausage” Also, the repetition of “All the people that you know / Floating on the river are logs” is like what he does to Thomas (repetitively reminding him about the bad things). The “Oh I am my own da[ng] God” goes along with all the biblical references he makes in his theme (and just the dark sides in general). All in all, this song/introduction just is him screeching, “HI, I’M YOUR INTRUSIVE THOUGHT WITHOUT THE UGH.”

Forbidden Fruit (the Duke’s Theme): If you are a Fander, you definitely are singing/screaming this on top of your lungs as you listen to this. I did that, and I love that. This song itself has a lot of good analysis online, so check them out! It was the intro song of the Duke with all his motives, thoughts, and everything beyond that, so it’s definitely on here. Also, it mirrors A Gay Disney Prince from Roman’s playlist by both being their own “I want” songs as well as their character role songs. The Creativitwins strike here once.

Double Team: Tenacious D! The Creativitwins strike here again! Wonderboy was on Roman’s playlist, which is also a Tenacious D song, so you can definitely say there are some mirroring going on here (also! YES the artist choice seems like a definite factor in choosing these songs). So this song is about having sex. Okay. And having a threesome. Okay, Remus. This song, even though it’s from the same artist as Roman, has a really different theme. If the Tenacious D selection is about the twins, would this mean that Roman wants them to be a really good team who, even though are opposites, can get along, while Remus wants them both to lose the filter and have fun? Overall, it could mean that the twins both want to get along, just in different ways which contradict one another. I’m not going into the lyric details because oof.

Man: I just noticed that Yeah Yeah Yeahs was on Patton’s and Virgil’s playlists. On Remus? I didn’t really expect that, but that’s a pleasant surprise. This song is really interesting because it’s not like the other two. This song, for me, is about someone who is obsessed with a man who would make her do anything, and she’s just hooking up with him or something. Also, the whole, “You're all gonna burn in hell / I said we're all gonna burn in hell” goes back to the biblical references that the Dark Sides make as well as the lyric of “Cause your head's not in the gutter, pal / It's in Hell.” Who is the man? Thomas, probably. This probably directs back to Remus convincing Thomas to drop the filter.

Freeee: “When man becomes possessor of the knowledge of himself, he becomes the master of his environment“ in the beginning of the song is Remus telling Thomas to learn about himself by possibly accepting Remus. The lyrics “One day they hate you / Next day they love you / I'm still yellin' "F[*]ck 'em" / I could never trust—” show how Remus doesn’t trust the society like Janus, and that’s just one of the main core of the dark sides. They don’t trust people that much. This does include Virgil since he is anxiety, so he can’t trust everything immediately. They all have different ways of showing the distrust. For Remus, it’s the layback, “frick it” attitude. “I don’t feel pain anymore” and “nothin’ hurts me anymore” seems to be a potential for Remus angst of being rejected from all the sides and being the “Evil Twin”. Does he care or not care? No one knows yet.

In The Room Where You Sleep: Sleep from the shorts and Virgil will both react really strongly to this song. Why? “There's something in the shadows / In the corner of your room / A dark heart is beating / And waiting for you” (Telltale Heart reference-). Yeah. Remus listening to this would go back to that end card of Remus being creepy (and eating deodorant). Also, it possibly demonstrates Virgil and Remus’ relationship; Remus scared Virgil because of his thoughts and conjectures. The repetition of “You better run / You better hide” would also contribute to this thought, definitely. But then again, that melancholy keyboard... Why that montage at the end?

No Reason Boner: The song is very catchy and funny. But ASDKLFAJSD. This is definitely Remus’ type of song. That means that the sexual information is given control to Remus, and he probably uses the information for his jokes and intrusive thoughts. This song is what Remus' personality is: goofy yet NSFW. This intrusive thought without the ugh is probably lovable in this fandom because of that. Also, I don’t know why, but he can have that naivete even though he’s the one in charge of stuff like that. A nice juxtaposition right there.

I Told You I Was Freaky: This playlist is a RIDE. VERY MUCH A RIDE. Just all the sexual references in this song are just 1000% Remus. The song itself is quite whispery, and I guess that goes with Remus because he whispers the dirty stuff into Thomas’ ears. Well, whisper is very much an understatement. But I have to admit, if you listen to the lyrics, there are some very creative ways that people don’t think of. It’s usually a bed, a car, or in a club or party, but the lyrics are more than that. Then, we can assume how capable and skilled Remus is as the Dark Creativity; he’s as good as Roman, just in a different category.

Queef: If you don’t know what a queef is, I didn’t too. I just looked it up while I was typing this. Wait, isn’t Awkwafina in like a movie? This, like that last song, is basically him going off on his creativity and wordplay. In future episodes, I would love to see how Remus can go off with his wordplay because if Roman’s good at all the nicknames, and if Remus is basically him but darker, that means he’s good. Like really good. This song is also very, very catchy, and I kinda jammed through it because of the beat.

Manners: According to genius, this song is a "sexually-charged bad b[*]tch anthem on which Ashnikko displays her “IDGAF”-attitude.” Basically, the vine, “I’M A BAD B*TCH YOU CAN’T KILL ME” would equate to Remus as well as the meme, “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go APESH*T-.” This might connect with his facade in a way because he seems to be naive and goofy at times (although NSFW), but when he drops it, he drops it fast, and he drops it hard. For example, his facade drops when he threatened Logan in DWIT, and his facade can be picked back up quickly, too. This song also has the element of “Frick this world” attitude, which Remus showed in the previous songs, and I stan him. As the fandom did an edit once, he would definitely wear acrylic nails if he wants to. A thing that I did notice though is the lyric “Fight or flight, I’m fighting for my life.” HI VIRGIL!

Ben Bernanke: I don’t know who Spencer is, but a big OOF for him. This song’s structure is really unique because I have no clue where it’s going, and it’s going with Remus’ personality of just randomness and intrusivity (is that a word?). ALSO, the continuing snakes in these songs. So is Spencer Janus in our context? If so, Remus is quite mad at Janus. I do see why though, after that last video implying that he’s the Evil Twin. “Do you think you can mock me, Spencer? / Do you think you can capture my essence / And throw it back at me with / Humor and rhetorical devices?” Gosh, Janus and Remus could have beef with one another. Also, that “Avada Kedavra” and “I’m... a furious magician” could definitely foreshadow something in the future. Additionally, “You're the architect of my dreams, Spencer / You plan them, and build them on blue paper / And hand them to me / And then I dream them, Spencer.”

Worldwide Torture: “I never come second place / Always been a big disgrace Smell the fear, I know you see / High achiever (Yeah, that's me!)” Welcome to Remus’ angst that we do not know much about yet. It’s great. It’s just like Roman, but in a more “I’m a disappointment” way! However, what’s quite different is that Remus is pissed. Beyond pissed about it, so he acts up unlike Roman who tries to mask it. Because he knows that he’s not regarded nicely with any of the sides, he wants to molest them and destroy the world, shown by the lyrics “A pure violation of God's great creation / It’s an infestation, it’s world domination.” I think this issue might pop up more frequently as more episodes come out, but for now, this is my assumption. Out of context, “The highest score” goes with that last episode, since Remus was present as the 80085.

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na): I DIDN’T EXPECT THIS TO BE HERE, BUT I LOVE IT. THANK YOU. WOOOOOO YASSSS. This is actually one of the “pump me up” songs. First, “Eight legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill them all” is, obviously, a spider in the song, but in our context, we can also call it an octopus because Remus’ animal is an octopus, which has 8 tentacles (6 legs and 2 arms). Second, Remus is PISSED. He definitely has a punk aesthetic, shown by all the songs about flipping the world. The lyrics “I’d rather to to Hell / Than be in purgatory” definitely shows his determination of doing so since he’s saying that he won’t sit back. Somehow, for me it’s a growth from the beginning of “I don’t care” to “I actually care, and I’m fighting for that sh*t”. Pissed off Remus is scary Remus.

Trash People: Trash rat boiiiii. But this song is more than that. It’s showing that trash people aren’t really... trash people. “ Art is love and love is sloppy / Nothing is all pure / Nothing is all dirty” really shows the whole duality aspect in the entire series. Everything is gray. And that’s what Roman and Remus need to work on since they were divided by the black and white mentality. If Remus is okay with the gray morality, then who would be the one that he’s directing this song to? Roman. “Wearing a smile and a heart on my sleeve” though. I don’t get this lyric, but then again, tell me what you guys think! Does this mean that Remus is actually trying to be like this, or is he mocking Roman... The “no time to start over” also sounds really ominous.

Tranz: Gorillaz! Same album as Roma-OKAY THIS IS GETTING REAL. The last one with this artist had the lyrics, “I’m the lonely twin, the left hand... I don’t want this isolation.” People were screaming about this because, of course, this refers to Remus, but who knew that this was going to pop up again! That’s why I loved the artist connections during these analysis. Anyways, this goes back to the twin duality, but more of an angry tune. Take a look at this: “Do you look like me? Do you feel like me? / Do you turn into your effigy? / Do you dance like this forever?” Remember Roman’s whole monologue about Remus as someone he sees in the mirror with all the things he doesn’t want to be? This song is Remus asking Roman about that statement. Keep in mind that effigy is a sculpture that is usually used to mock or burn and is used as a negative connotation (thank you my English teacher). Remus doesn’t like that comparison at all, and I’m more concerned for him now than I was ever before after Janus saying that too.

Death as a Fetish: Wow, this is sad. “And I will never be good enough, quietly / And you will never be good enough, just like me.” If the twins have the time to reconcile, this is probably the first thing they need to help out on each other. Remus knows more about his twin than we all thought, and he knows that both of them have problems about that. On the other hand, this song, when I looked at some of the annotations on genius, has a sad connotation. Life is so short, and it ends, and you know for sure that death is there at all times with that repetition of “death as a fetish” after everything we find positive. For Remus, I guess he knows about this. He’s a deeper character than we credit him as.

Don’t Stop Me Now: TONIIIIGHT IM GONNA HAVE MYSEEEELF A GOOD TIIME- okay. This song is something I scream my lyrics to. I also didn’t expect this, but in a calmer manner (because I wasn’t calm when this was on), yes please. Basically, DON’T STOP ME NOWWW! I don’t know how to explain this in a deeper way. Yeah. I LOVE THIS SONG THOUGH!

Things I Don’t Remember: “Things I don't remember / How the hell'd we get here? / How the hell did we get here?” This can be interpreted in a lot of ways. It could either be how all the sides came to be, how Roman and Remus came to be by both having the role of creativity, or just where Thomas is mentally since they are all Thomas. I think that’s depending on how you want to go about it. The last point is the strongest for me because of this one phrase of “There were endless conversations / No one's mouths were really moving” maybe referring to the sides’ conversations around Thomas’ dilemmas. They sometimes only make it worse until someone has to kick in to change the viewpoint around, and that’s the reason why it feels like nobody’s mouths were really moving. Also, dressed up alligators? Okay, Remus.

F*ck It!: (Censored by yours truly with her notecard of “note your language”) The album name of taxidermy... fitting. Back to the song. “Why abstain? Why jump in line?” and “They say don't take the risk you're sure to fail... But what's the worst that could happen, end up in a coffin? / Isn't that where we're all headed anyway?” really highlights Remus’ spontaneity, which is a big factor in intrusive thoughts. This is back to the “frick this”, but more a “frick it I’m doing that sh*t, and I don’t care about the consequences” (going back to Na Na Na on that). Also, “'Cause it's easier to lie to yourself than to face reality” reminded me of Janus, but does this also apply to Remus in a way? Or does this apply to all the sides who are lying to themselves, especially Roman? Anyways, Remus’ spontaneity is something to kinda look up to at times. Not... not all the time.

fReAkY 4 Life: Dorian Electra... the one behind Flamboyant from ROMAN’S PLAYLIST! The Creativitwins music solidarity number I-forgot-to-count. To the lyrics! “They just don't understand me / I'm not like them, I'm freaky” does go to all the other sides and Thomas because Remus really stands out from all the other sides. Silly yet NSFW, weird, and very new. Also, he seems to want some attention from all the sides with “ I like to be in the spotlight / Step on the scene ’cause it feels right / I freakin' scream, baby, all night / I do it, I do it, do it all the time,” but is it a distraction or legitimate attention? I love how this song is the finale because this song is the fireworks that says Remus. All the lyrics really match him, and especially with the “I hear what they call me / I hear what they say / I'm not very cool, yeah / But I'll never change,” it cements how Remus thinks.

TL:DR:

Remus is a character deeper than we already know him as. There are a lot of him that hasn’t been introduced to us since he’s pretty new. He has been on for about 2-3 episodes (only 1 with his full participation), and he never really interacted with Roman nor Janus, both who has a history with our little gremlin. Yes, Remus is the Duke of Dark Creativity and intrusive thoughts; there are so many references that are R-rated in this playlist, but in the end, he is another side. He more than the trash boi who gleefully talks about sensitive topics.

He still has a connection with Roman with all the overlaps in their insecurities and artists, and he’s probably the one who’s more knowledgeable about their relationship as a twin. He could even want to reconcile with his twin, but in a way that Roman would not approve. That doesn’t mean that Remus is kinda mad at Roman. A fun house mirror.

Next, He doesn’t want to change himself in the sake of others although he knows that the others hate him for being him, and he’s actively going against it, not caring about the consequences. That’s what drives him to be really good at his job. He’s as good as Roman on doing his job. Along with that, he wants Thomas to embrace him as one of the sides and come over to the dark side of creativity. It’s one of Remus’ biggest dreams: acceptance. I want to see how this plays out with him and especially him.

Finally, he’s pissed. Very pissed. After all the berating at his back from all the other sides, including Janus, he’s PISSED. He’s ready to throw hands and wreck the world. I’m starting to be worried for how his character would develop. If he goes apesh*t, I’m getting popcorn and coke. Maybe drink every time we see him go feral. Eat a popcorn every time someone is disgusted by Remus.

Overall, I love him more than I ever did because of this playlist since music is the window to the soul. It’s like knowing a person and learning about them. Also, by doing this, it really develops the character and lets the people look inside the character’s deepest thoughts and desires. I don’t know if there will be any additions to these, but if not, I really want to thank the entire group who made this happen! I found some songs that I really love now, and it’s such a good way for the fanders to have fun! (also, the content inspired from this is going to be very interesting)(the ANGST)

Thanks for reading if you came til here, and feel free to add on to this! I would love to see how you guys think about this playlist!

#sanders sides #thoughts #rambles #thomas sanders #side tracks #remus sanders #analysis #dukey #song analysis #songs #there are some bops here #and i love doing these analysis #lyric analysis #lyrics #sanders sides analysis #roman sanders #creativitwins #janus sanders

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

Be Mine, this Quarantine

"Dude." Dean nervously chuckles, scrubbing his face with his hand. The other one holds the phone to his ear. "I haven't even been able to ask this guy out to dinner. And you're asking me to ask him to go into isolation with me?"

"You're being dramatic again." Sam tells him, matter-of-factly, as if Dean's the one being unreasonable here.

Sam is the one who specifically called him on a Sunday from California to remind him to self-isolate, but "do it with someone like Castiel, okay?" - like he's supposed to be taking care of his older brother from fucking Stanford, like Dean knows anyone else like Cas, and like he's ever going to be able to propose something of that sort to Cas.

"He has a third-floor apartment." Sam points out, revisiting all of his super valid points. "You share a dorm with three other guys. And he just seems like the kind who'd be the correct amount of a germophobe." Dean rolls his eyes - although he also agrees. "Dean, you share so many classes with him that if nothing else, you could revise your entire semester together - and to top it all off, you're like best friends."

Benny comes to Dean's head and he starts to protest.

"You text him, Dean." The eyeroll and bitchface are audible in Sam's voice. "You, who exits all text chains you've ever been added to because quote unquote you're not an adolescent teenager with a celebrity crush, or looking to be catfished - you, Dean Winchester, text Cas."

That - wasn't far from the truth.

He wouldn't call them texting buddies or anything, but Castiel always sends a good morning text, and Dean always sends him a picture of his breakfast (because that's what he's up to by the time Castiel wakes up) and sometimes Dean's late for class because he lost track of time while talking to Cas, and sometimes they stay up all night together discussing the most inconsequential things like why mattresses matter to Dean and bees matter to Cas, and - yeah. He should probably call them texting buddies.

"Whatever, bitch." Dean throws back, taking the small losses his way as long as he wins the final battle. "Fine, we're friends. That doesn't automatically mean we'll be able to live together."

"You cannot actually mean that." Sam scoffs. "You're the best kind of neat freak I know, because you just end up doing all the tidying up by yourself. And you can cook." Dean huffs. "Admit it, jerk. Compatibility in a shared living space shouldn't be your concern."

Sure, Sam makes some good points, but Dean has the biggest card up his sleeve - which will trump all of Sam's meticulously presented arguments.

He's sorta in love with Cas.

But to say out loud to his little brother, it comes out as, "What if Cas doesn't want me there?"

Sam pauses.

Point, Dean Winchester.

"That's exactly why you need to talk to him." He finally says, but he sounds more thoughtful like it finally entered his twenty two year old brain that Cas might not want to shack up with Dean.

"Like hell, I will."

"I swear on your bullshit, Dean," Sam threatens. "I won't hesitate to take a cheap-ass flight, straight to Cas's apartment."

Dean balks. "You're not getting on any planes right now, Sammy -"

"And you're asking him." Sam declares, and if he were in front of Dean, he'd be crossing his arms on his chest which usually implies the end of a debate in Sam-the-to-be-lawyer speak. "Promise me."

"What will I even say?" Dean retorts, indignant. "Like, do I just go up to the guy like 'hey, wanna have me impose on you for a bunch of weeks?'" Sam snickers like Dean's trying to be funny. "'I promise to clean and make you food if you let me live with you during a pandemic'?"

"Something like that." Sam laughs, and Dean has to smile - because that doesn't happen very often and when it does, it reminds him of a past where they were much closer than California and Kansas. "Tell me how it goes, okay?"

"Nothing's going -"

"You promised."

"I didn't fucking promise a thing -"

The line clicks, and Sam is gone. Dean lands back on his bed, and wonders briefly if it'd be easier to die.

He calls Cas - because they're not goddamn texting buddies, no matter what Sam says - and asks if he's free for lunch.

Cas says yes and actually sounds excited about it.

When Dean reaches their usual diner, he takes longer than usual to park the Impala - all the while thinking about how he's going to frame the question to Cas, because he's fought it out with himself and knows that he's going to do it. He'd also taken longer than usual to drive there from the University apparently, because when he reaches, Cas is already there.

He's sitting on a table for two - probably just because that allows him to have a seat against the wall and Cas is kind of adorable about small things like that - and he's slumping over his phone.

But he puts it down when Dean approaches, and as Dean takes off his jacket, Cas puts his phone back in his jeans and uses his fingers to fidget instead. When Dean sits, a little amused, Cas is the one who speaks up first and in a hurry.

"Would you like to quarantine with me?"

Dean blinks. He takes a moment to think and then asks, "Did Sam get to you?"

"Uh, your brother Sam?" Cas frowns, shaking his head. "No, why would he?"

"Nevermind." Dean believes him. Though he cannot believe what just happened.

"So?"

"Oh." He's supposed to give an answer, because Cas doesn't know how much Dean's been thinking about it. Though, in his defense, most of the time, Cas tends to be so goddamn intuitive that Dean feels like he can read his mind.

Nonetheless, Dean tries to answer as casually as he can. "Yes. I mean, of course. Thank you for asking."

That's Dean Winchester in a sentence.

He tries to shoot for the normal, and ends up in affirmative-response-to-a-promposal territory.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks, sounding slightly less sure than before.

Did you not hear me say 'of course, thank you for asking' after that yes?

"Yeah, buddy." He pulls the menu from Cas's side of the table to his, sliding it on the table. "So what are we eating?"

"I'm not forcing you into this, am I?" Cas interrupts, hand on Dean's wrist jolting his attention back and ruining his complete 'casual' cover, because now Dean's sweating too. "Just because I asked, and just because we're friends - you don't have to say yes to anything, okay?"

"I know that." Dean gives Cas his best reassuring smile, though it's a little non-assured from his own core.

"I wake up late and I'm not sure when I sleep." Cas confesses, eyes worried. "The flat is clean only because I stuff everything in the closets. And I have a neighbor - you remember Balthazar, right? He just returned from France."

"How long ago is 'just'?" Dean repeats, and then adds. "And frankly I'd assumed he was simply being pretentious when we met."

"Two months." Castiel bites his lip. "And he is. The accent is fake."

"We'll survive." Dean announces, grinning broader. "Plus I can't wait to hear that guy minus the accent now."

Castiel makes an exasperated sound.

"Cas, how do I put this?" Dean sighs, knowing that things would eventually come to this. "I would be grateful if you'd let me stay with you, and -"

"Sometimes I wander around the house with my cat past midnight." Cas volunteers, out of the blue.

Naked?

Dean's brain jumps there and then he drags it back from the gutter - or, you know, the land of tempting imaginable scenarios.

"I want to live with you, you dumbass."

Cas pauses like that's at all surprising. "You do?"

"I was literally trying to figure out how to ask." Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up. "And then you did, okay? And then I said yes, and I wanted us to not talk about it all lunch because later we're going to have important shit to figure out like food and beer and toilet paper and -"

"When exactly you'll move in." Cas offers, and when he puts it like that, a little bit of Dean melts.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay." Cas smiles, and finally it's that smile - eyes all crinkled, nose all scrunched up, the very definition of gummy - and fuck, Dean's very much in love with him and has just dug himself a huge, apartment-shaped hole, but he'd fucking like to live with him too, and he's a fucking liar if he isn't being a little hopeful about it too.

"We'll not talk about it." Cas declares. "And before, you'd asked me what we were eating?"

Dean nods.

"Well, I asked the waitress for recommendations for something memorable and she offered me the specials menu." Cas says, innocent as though everyone in the city doesn't know not to ask for the specials' menu at Reed's diner.

Dean starts to pray.

"So, kale pecan pesto." Cas announces. "And yes, I had to Google what that is later and no, I'm not showing you."

"God-fucking-dammit, Cas." Dean glares at him. "These might be our last diner meals for the foreseeable future, I don't want to have rabbit food -"

And then Cas winks at him like that's something he's allowed to do, and Dean's suddenly flustered again - and if that isn't an apt summary of how living with Cas is going to be like, he doesn't know what is.

#destiel #quarantine #destiel fluff #self isolation #destiel crack #soft bois #destiel ficlet #destiel college au #young destiel #young dean winchester #young castiel #castiel #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #not spoilers #representation week #coronavirus

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pink-imagines · 5 years

Text

childhood lovers

request: Just got an idea: Miodorya, Kirishima,Bakugou and Todoroki with a fem s/o who grew up with them, please?

a/n: i just wrote izuku and shoto rn but i will post the other ones soon!!

warnings: this is mostly just fluff

masterlist

Izuku Midoriya.

Growing up with someone like Izuku wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that he was “too much to handle” or that he was reckless, beacause he really wasn’t. The thing was that where ever he went, tradgedy followed him. Watching your best friend get hurt over and over again isn’t something you’d want to experience. If it hurt you as much as it did you can only imagine what it felt like for him. Finding out he doesn’t have a quirk, the only thing he really wanted... his dad leaving him... and those damn bullies didn’t make it any better!

When you got into UA together things started happening between you, obviously you had already gone into puberty and things you didn’t think of before suddenly popped up in your head. Not only that, he had spent all of summer training and suddenly he looked like a completely new person! Neither of you did anything about these new feelings until after highschool. It was actually at the last dance of the UA graduation ball that you admitted your feelings towards one another...

Yaomomo dragged you by the arm towards the dancefloor, talking about how she hadn’t seen you all night. The fact was that you had been hiding away from Mina. She happened to know about your crush and you just knew she would do something to pair you up. Little did you know that Yaomomo was Mina’s partner in crime all along. Appearently all the girls were, and they had partnered up with the guys.

You saw Denki pushing Izuku out on the dancefloor, clearly struggling a bit, but you didn’t think much of it... until Yaomomo started leading you towards them. Denki and Yaomomo basically forced the two together and were gone within a second.

“Hi.”, you said as you took an awkward step away from him, after being pressed chest to chest with him

“Hey, I-”, a new song started playing which interupted Izuku. It was such a familiar song... could it be... it was your song! The song the two of you always listened to. To be fair, it was you favorite song, Izuku really only listened to it when he was with you and neither of you felt like talking.

“It’s the last dance of the night, right?”, you asked as people around you started dancing.

“It is...”, he nodded and then held out his hand to you, “... would you like to dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

The night had ended with you two confessing, but since you both were going to different universities you decided to wait. And wait you did.

The two of you only first ended up together after you had broken up with a short-term boyfriend because of your new job at this agency. The agency that Izuku worked at. Everything was different, nothing was stopping you this time... but neither of you did anything. Well, that was until Izuku had enough of all this pretending.

You were staying late at work to finish paper work, in fact you were going to be the last one to leave. You knew that as soon as you saw Izuku walking down the corridor.

“Goodnight, Izuku!”, you waved goodbye as he passed your office. He waved and looked like he was just going to walk by, but then something in his eyes changed... as if he had remembered something.

“Hey, Y/N... do you have a second to talk?”, he leaned against your doorframe. You had left your door open to “air out”, when in reality you wanted him to stop by.

“Of course! I’ve finished most of my paper work anyways!”, you smiled, “What’s up?” He looked really fucking good in a suit. His jacket was thrown over his shoulder and the sleeves of his button up was rolled up. And damn... he really pulled off those black slacks!

“You okay?”, he waved his hand to catch your attention.

“Hm? Oh, sorry! I’m really tired, what did you say?”, you tried to keep your mind out of the gutter when it came to him but sometimes you slipped up.

“I was talking about the promise we made during that ball... I know it’s stupid but...”, he sighed, “I’ve waited for you.” Suddenly the guilt hit you all at once. Had he really not been with anyone? Fuck, he was comitted in that case.

“Are you telling me you’ve never been with anyone then?”, you asked nervously, as he knew of your past short-term relationships.

“No, I’ve had flings... just never anything serious.”, he slowly walked up to your desk and rested his hands against the wood.

“Me neither.”, you said, honestly.

“But you haven’t acted on this.”, he motioned between the two of you.

“This is our work place. I didn’t know you remembered our promise.”, you sighed and walked around your desk to face him properly, “Though I do have to say that it’s been tempting.”

“I hope you’re serious about that.”, he put his hands softly on your waist and pulled you closer.

“Oh trust me, Izuku, I am.”, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I need to finish my work up but I would love to maybe grab a drink?”

That’s how it started for real. Now, three years later you were laying next to him in bed. It felt so surreal, as if something like this would never happen. You had been friends since you were little and now you were sharing an apartment? Either way, you couldn’t be happier in this moment.

Shoto Todoroki.

You had known him since both of you were around four or five, which is when you had developed a tiny crush on him. The only reason you met is when your dad was having a meeting with Shoto’s dad, so both your moms were near acquaintences- before the accident that is. Your moms used to talk about “puppy-love” when they saw you two together, which you never understood back then. But it seems that both you and Shoto were quite oblivious to what was happening between you.

Once the accident happened you didn’t see Shoto for a very long time, but you never stopped thinking of him. Even if it was just a “I hope he’s okay” or something like “I wonder what he looks like nowadays”.

You had no idea you’d find out as soon as you joined UA. Of course you knew that Shoto would go to a prestigious school but you didn’t think you’d be in the same class! But he was very... different. He kept his distance from you at the beginning, which made your heart sting. It wasn’t just you he was cold towards, he barely talked to anyone in the class! It was only first after the sports festival that he started opening up. You were almost crying during Shoto’s fight with Midoriya and you were full on sobbing during his fight with Bakugo. You were right next to him when he woke up in Recovery Girl’s room.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, as if his eyelids were weighed down by a blanket. Once you found recognition in his eyes you smiled and let out a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Y/N..?”, he croaked out

“Hi...”, you smiled, “Bakugo knocked you unconcious... you’re in the nurse’s office.” You were about to take your hands away from the side of the bed when he put his hand on top of yours. It felt warm and you carefully turned one of your hands around so you were now palm to palm and fingers intertwining.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered. You knew what he meant, by just those two words. He said sorry for not getting in contact with you, sorry for being so cold to you and sorry for making you cry. He’d always been a gentleman in that way.

“It’s okay.”, you smiled and tried to keep the tears from running, “I understand.” The door opened and his father walked inside. You didn’t break eye contact and gave his hand a supporting squeeze before standing up and walking away, his fingers lingered onto you for just a little while.

Surprise, surprise, you both were still as oblivious as ever. Even though everyone could see how you looked at each other and how you acted together, neither of you realized that you were falling for each other. Nobody mentioned it though, they let you learn from each other and build up your old relationship once again.

Once that had happened you had already gotten out of school. During one of your little get togethers, which wouldn’t happen a lot because of work, the confession eventually just slipped out.

“I bought your favorite bottle!”, you said as you walked into Shoto’s apartment with a bottle of wine in your hand. He looked up from setting the table and smiled warmly before approaching you to give you a welcoming hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again.”, he sighed as you leaned into his touch, a bit more than you maybe should have.

“How long has it been now? Has to be at least... 3 months?”, you chuckled and put the bottle on his table, “What are you making? It smells great!” You gave yourself a nice mental pat on the back for teaching him how to cook.

The evening was spent with lots of laughs and memories... eventually the two of you ended up on the couch, drunk as ever. Your legs were thrown over Shoto’s lap as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Did you drive here?”, he muttered and put his head on top of yours.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Maybe you should stay over night? Probably can’t drive right now...”, he started playing with your hair for a bit.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay for any other reason?”, you weren’t usually this confident, but as they say; liquor is liquid courage.

“Y/N, c’mon...”, he pats your leg and gets up, “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Why are you always so nice to me?”, you asked as he helped you up. You stumbled a bit, falling securely into his chest where he kept you steady.

“We’re friends, of course I’m nice to you.”, he muttered out against the top of your head.

“Friends don’t do this...”, you whisper nervously, “Please tell me that I’m not insane to think that there’s something more between us.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”, he kissed the top of your head and helped you to his bedroom.

You did end up talking about it in the morning and even now it still surprises you how oblivious you both were.

At least you managed to get here, you always find yourself thinking whenever the two of you go to bed together.

764 notes · View notes

uhhhhyandere · 5 years

Note

I love, love, love you ❤️ I was hoping I could request where the main character begs for Yandere Light to let her get a doggo bc she’s so lonely since he made her quit a job. Like full on having a full ass fit. I’m talking full blown brat shit. Just how he would react and what she would have to do to convince him if you catch that drift 😏😉

yeah, i know what i said in my last post. whatever. never believe anything that comes out of my stupid mouth i am the single biggest sob in the universe.

um… i took this in a… direction to say the least. someone has to stop me from riding suck n’ ride smut bc… it always goes like this.

next light smut there is going to be ass-eating or i swear to god my name isn’t kerry literally all im thinking about is giving him a rimjob. really. this is where we are at folks.

warnings: smut, face fucking (oops), dick sucking, sex, rough sex. he not happy boi

word count: 3.5k

All you did was watch dog videos anymore. Of course, you watched them because you literally had little else to do during the day, but you just… happened to be more open about it when Light came through the door. Did it have anything to do with the fact you’ve been thinking about getting a furry friend to keep you company from the silence of an empty house and the dark recesses of your mind?

No, of course not. It had nothing at all to do with it, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that if you ask him directly, he would say no before any more words could breach the air. You would have to be creative, because when Light said “no,” there was no more argument, and you wanted this argument.

“A Pug. Wow. Beautiful.”

“Look, it’s a—it’s a Corgi. Oh my—wow. That’s amazing.”

You’d play around with different sizes.

“This Mastiff? This gentle giant? Can do nothing wrong.”

“This Bichon matches with the snow!”

And you’d talk about listings you just happened to see online from the local shelters.

“This one—wow. All of her shots. She looks so nice. Oh, and potty trained! What a girl. Damn.”

“He’s sitting down—oh a paw. I see a paw. Can he do the other paw? Oh, yes he can. Also has all his shots. Wonderful.”

Considering the man you lived with, you were pretty positive that he figured out your intentions day one or day two max. It’s been about a week since you’ve been… outgoing in your interest. At this point, it was a game as to who would break first. You bet he was waiting for you to get annoyed with his ignoring of anything you said related to the subject with how blatant he was with shirking you off, forcing you to simply ask.

You weren’t going to make it so easy on him. Though he happened to be the king of hiding his emotions, you knew you had to be getting to him. Light would never admit it, and he would certainly never show it. He wanted to keep that satisfaction as far away from you as possible.

So, you turned up the heat.

Before, you would break off the dog topic after a time, wanting to etch it in your daily schedule only bits at a time. Now? It’s the only thing you talk about, no matter the actual subject at hand.

“There’s another event we have to—.”

“The animal shelter is having an event in the park next week for adoptions.”

“I’m going to have to go for groceries soon.”

“Look at this weenie dog dressed in a weenie costume.”

“I—.”

“Doggo cute.”

It was only a matter of time until—.

“This French Bulldog is—.”

“Y/N.” His voice was clear, demanding. Even after all this time, like a teacher scolding elementary students, it immediately brought you to silence. You sat on your shared bed, legs crossed, as he leered down at you from the bathroom. “I would say it was cute at first, but you know it’s a waste of time to try asking anything indirectly. As if I would succumb to your manipulation, but I let you carry on. You would get bored. You would stop and think and realize that it was pointless to keep it up, but you persisted. I thought to myself maybe you were just trying to see if I would crack and give you the satisfaction of indulging in your antics, and I was right.

“It begs the question. Why didn’t you just ask directly? Easy. Because I would say no, and you would be correct. To allow something else besides me your devotion? Not likely. But what? Did you think showing me videos of Shibu Inus and Pomeranians would make me want one first? You have the logic of a six-year-old, Y/N,” Light began to unbutton his shirt, “Did you honestly think it would work? Or did you simply want to get a rise out of me?” He removed the shirt entirely, then lifted his undershirt over his head just as easily. Light tossed the fabric into the hamper, leaving a pale, lithe abdomen on display. He turned to fully face you and took two easy steps forward. “Why would you want one in the first place? Have I not given my fiancée enough attention recently? Is this your way of getting back at me, hm?”

You were almost at an even height to his belt buckle, but you did your best to ignore that as his eyes demanded attention upwards. His gaze was near malicious, but not quite so. Ah. Lascivious. That’s what they were. You swallowed the knot out of your throat.

“Y-you wish.”

“Your hesitation is very resounding. Then, if you’re so sure, indulge me. Don’t tell me you wanted a distraction from your loving husband-to-be. I know you didn’t want something else to focus on besides me when I’m away at work, so tell me. Tell me why you desired a filthy, shedding ball of fur. Your answer may earn you some mercy.”

You unfolded your legs from underneath you as your foot began to numb under the weight of your leg. Your hands glided back and forth on your thighs. Was there a point in lying? No, scratch that. Was there a point in lying to someone who already knew the truth? Well, his own truth that Light would undoubtedly make yours. There was little purpose in making it worse on yourself.

“No, you’re—uh—right.” Light set his hands on his hips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m just… lonely when you’re at work. So… yeah.” You risked a peek upwards. Oh, geez the smirk on that fucker. “I’m sorry.” His arms rose from his hips to cross over his chest.

“For?”

“Huh?”

“What are you sorry for? Annoying me for days with your drivel? Wanting a mutt? Lying?” You furrowed your brows. “Oh, that one confused you, hm? Alright, well, if you won’t admit it, I can do it for you. Lonely-“ he scoffed- “You can’t be serious. Such a blatant lie from your lips. The second time you are insulting my intelligence. I’ll ask one more time. Where does your motivation lie?”

“I’m not lying!” You hissed, jumping off the mattress to stand. “What—just what am I supposed to do all day cooped up in this place like a goddamned prisoner? Clean? The place is clean. Cook? As if you’d even let me try. Watch TV? My brain is rotting. You don’t even let me help kids with math anymore online. Just what am I to do? Next thing I may just throw myself out the window—,” Hands gripped your shoulders, causing a slight pain at the intensity.

“You think I’d let you? I expect you to stay here and be good and thankful that you are where you are. I, just as much as you, know—knew women who died to be in your shoes, and you’re ungrateful to be alive and safe? You want more?” You tried to shrug out of his grip, and he allowed you to take the steps away from him.

“I’m asking to be a human being, for fuck’s sake! I’m going to sit here and go crazy. Isn’t it enough that I don’t fuck with the rules anymore? I’m quiet. I don’t say anything. I put every façade you ask me to. All I want is something for me! Something to distract me from literally going insane here! To distract me from everything.”

Light’s eyes sometimes spoke more truth than his mouth ever could. Right about now, the browns were all-consuming, aflame with ire, but his lips were upturned in a challenge.

“A distraction. Caught in a lie, Y/N. Bad form, even for you. After all this time, you still can’t face reality, dearest. I knew you’ve been pitting your mind in some gutter you call the truth. Makes this all easier to accept, but to go to the physical extent? I won’t allow it, and you won’t be able to recess your mind for long, so enjoy that pleasure while you can.” He paused, countenance recessing to something more composed. “You love me, don’t you, Y/N?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no lie in that affirmation. It was the easiest of his questions to answer. “I love you.” Light inhaled deeply, chest flexing with the exhale.

“With love comes compromise, correct?” You responded with a glare. His tone was all too insinuating. “So, let’s compromise, yes? I hate arguing with you.” He reached an arm out, hand open. Your eyes glanced between the extended limb and his eyes before cautiously taking it. His hand squeezed and pulled you in tight. Light twisted and adjusted you so when he fell onto the bed, you landed comfortably on his lap. Releasing your hand, he brought his own up to gingerly glide his fingers across your cheek, a trail of bumps in its wake as it curled into your locks. Almost like a lover. Almost.

His fingers seized the strands and pulled, forcing your head back and opening your neck for his mouth to latch. “Then compromise, dearest. Prove to me what you think you deserve.” He spoke against your skin, open-mouth kisses with a hint of teeth between his words. “And I’ll make judgement.” His hand let go of your hair and traced to the back of your skull to slant your lips onto his impatient ones. The other wrapped itself to pull your body closer until he pushed you off with an unexpected force, almost knocking you to the ground.

From the unbalanced position, you watched him adjust his position to lie in the center of the bed, head angled to watch you from the pillows with both his hands as another cushion for his crown. Light smirked, watching you stand straight. “Well, go on. Compromise.”

Light was never on the bottom. It was non-negotiable. Being anything else was utterly unacceptable for a god. This situation, despite the physical placement of both bodies, was no different. You may be the one crawling on top of him, fiddling with his belt buckle, but he had every bit of this situation in his control. Under his watchful gaze, you removed the strip of leather and threw it across the room.

“You’re going to have to help me here,” you muttered after undoing the fly. Wordlessly, he obliged, allowing you to slip the trousers off of his person. You glanced at his feet. Thank god he took his shoes off already, so he only lied in his boxers.

No, you would never be accustomed to this.

“You always look like it’s your first time,” he remarked. “As if you haven’t seen my cock before. From my recollection, you should be quite familiar with it by now.” You inhaled sharply. “Unless you don’t want to compro—.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, crawling to straddle his legs. “Just be quiet,” you said more quietly. You reached out to rub the only half-erect cock through the fabric. Only small groans were elicited above you. Light was not a noisy one, to say the least. It took your first, painful, terrible experience of deep-throating to even get him to moan fully.

“Do you think teasing is going to get you anywhere?” His voice is always composed during sex, and it really was alarming because… you really couldn’t relate. You glowered, fingers digging under the waistband and pulling. He helped again, lifting so you can get the fabric off. “If you think you’re doing anything fully clothed, I should take a cold shower.”

You made quick work of taking the layers of comfort clothes you had on, off. “You really know how to put on a show,” he deadpanned.

“Shut. Up.” You returned to your position, seeing his cock now fully erect from your previous work. You were sure you were wet, but you ignored it as best you could. You had a feeling you would not be serviced tonight. Before you can even lean down, he spoke again.

“Beg for it. Beg for the honor of sucking my cock. Convince me you deserve it if you believe you are so entitled.” There was not a single physical restriction to keep you from taking it into your mouth, but his words were powerful enough to keep you still. Light was daring you to try and misbehave, and you really couldn’t help the physical reaction his words always do to you.

“Please—,”

“Pathetic. I can have any girl in my bed. I can stick my cock in any person interested, and here you are, an ungrateful brat who wants more. You’re making quite an unremarkable argument for yourself. Perhaps I will take away—.”

“Please, Light. Allow me the honor of sucking your cock, of you fucking my throat. I want the privilege of swallowing your seed. Fuck—please. I’ll do anything.” You leaned down close, but not touching anything. You only lifted your eyes up to his. “Please. I know I’ve been bad. Please, let me make up for it.”

Your words in bed were always forced. He knew you hated dirty talk as much as you did, therefore he always made you speak, always made you confess how much you craved him, wanted him, and whenever you spoke it was hardly ever in lies. Your embarrassment was too prominent in your body language to tell him otherwise.

“Go on, then. Show me.” You licked up his length first, then around the head and back down. “Teasing will get you nowhere,” he repeated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and took him in, inch by inch. Light was incredibly average despite his ego. It wasn’t impossible to fit the entire length into your mouth with slow adjustment, but that didn’t mean it was fun. You would continue to work his length, getting more and less intense with your pressure and the speed your head bobbed. Still, there was little reaction from him, not there really never was any mind the grunts you could make out. Your inclinations to keep going, and you did until you pulled back.

“How’s—,” His hand was at the back of your head immediately, forcing your head back down, pushing his cock down your throat, pushing until you could feel his balls against your chin. No hair. He was pristine down there. You convulsed, gagged, choked, but he did not release his grip. Hand keeping its hold, he dragged your head up just a hair enough to thrust upwards. Water began to pool at the waterline of your eyes. You had to relax your throat, or this was going to be just worse.

But it was hard, so hard at the pace he was thrusting at. You squeezed your eyes shut and took it the best you can. Listening to his quiet grunts and groans, you forced your lips to continue covering your teeth, but you could not force your throat to loosen. Drool pooled at both sides of your mouth, carelessly falling into both him and the sheets along with the liquid of your tears.

“Your throat is so fucking tight. That’s it. Choke on my cock. This is what your dirty mouth deserves.” Your limited experience could be to blame for its restricting. That, or the selfishness of the man whose grip on your hair tightened even more right before he allowed you to breathe once more.

And breath you did. Gasping, reeling for air as drool continued to leak down. From beneath your hair, you looked at Light, his eyes wild and alive with lust. Small heaves from his smiling mouth mixed with your wet and heavy ones. “Do you think you deserved that, dearest?” You finally wiped your mouth and shook the spit from your arm. “You’re lucky I am so generous. Come. For doing such a decent job.” His hands patted his hips. Swollen eyes met his. “Ride me, before I change my mind and fuck you into the mattress.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you moved to straddle his length. “Oh, your pussy is glistening. Did me fucking your throat really do that much to you? You loved to be controlled, don’t you?” You did not answer, shaky hands guiding his cock so you can sink onto it. You groaned at the feeling. “Tell me how good it makes you feel. How only I can make you feel like this.” You bit your lip, sinking down another inch or so.

“God, Light. Your cock feels so good. Only yours can make me feel like this. No one—no man, no woman, no person—can make me feel anything—like—this—fuck!” You sunk down to the hilt before you lifted yourself again, easing yourself up and down his length. “It’s so good—so good.” Light allowed you more time but decided your gentle pace was not enough to soothe him. He roughly grabbed you and flipped your positions.

“Too slow, Y/N. What did I say about teasing?” He brought his hips back and then snapped them into yours. You screamed, and you wondered if the neighbors would call again, but his pace did not relent.

“Light—please. It’s too—too much! It’s too fast. I can’t…” He smiled, a wicked grin over you.

“And you won’t. Don’t you dare think about cumming. I decided you don’t deserve it. This is your compromise. You get to live, marry, and get fucked by me, and only by me, and I will only have eyes for you. You’ll never feel like you need a… distraction again.” You clenched your teeth and pushed your head farther into the pillows. “I feel you clenching onto me. Don’t you dare think about disobeying me.” His thrusts were even, balanced.

“Please, please, please let me cum. It feels too good. You feel too good. I’ll do anything.”

“Then don’t cum.” You threw your hands back and gripped the headboard, feeling it rock in rhythm to his thrusts. They were beginning to become, sloppy, wild, he was close while you were holding back for dear life. “Y/N. You are mine and mine alone. Your body. Your actions. Your mind. I am the only thing you are allowed to think about.” With one final push, his seed released, filling and coating your insides. He rode it out, making sure every drop stayed. He hated to have to wash the sheets after, though your drool stains remained.

Pulling out, he retreated and stood, ignoring your writing, unfulfilled form. “Come. You aren’t going to sleep like—get those hands away from there. Let’s get you clean before you ruin the sheets even more.” Like before, he extended his hand to your heaving form. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of you, but you need to get cleaned up first.” An unstable hand fit into his own. His gently pulled you to stand and allowed you to lean your weight onto his.

Hot water cascaded down your body. Though Light effortlessly scrubbed washed his hair, you could not bring yourself to match his speed, and by the time he was already done, you hadn’t even washed your body yet. You heard an incomprehensible mutter amidst the running water as he left you alone. He was washing his face as you finally emerged, wrapped in your towel. No romance tonight, you figured. Not that it was any different than any other night. You followed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and taking your pills while he huddled in bed.

You could only dream of romance anymore. Getting your pajamas on, you approached the empty side of the bed. Before you could get on, Light shifted, opening his arms and staring at you expectantly. You froze. Did… did he want…? “Well, come on.” Ah. Was this supposed to be the ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he mentioned earlier? You supposed he would never wash you in the shower, so this would have to be it. You swallowed and fell into them, feeling his arm wrap you close to him so you lied nearly on your stomach, face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulders. His arm lied around your neck, the other near your elbow on the arm that sprawled on his chest. Oh, hello? What is this?

Ah. This is the quote-on-quote, attention he promised as a fiancé. His eyes remained closed as you stared. How forced was this? You wondered if he hated it, if he saw it was succumbing to your wishes, but it was unlikely. Perhaps it was him showing the physical love outside of sex that you lacked thinking it would keep you from having another outburst as you did before. Him keeping his side of the compromise so you would keep yours.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes before you thought too hard about his actions. The more you thought about it, the more—and less—real it all became, but if he was offering more conventional couple things: cuddling, dates, attention, you would not pose another argument.

“So, no dog?” you whispered.

#yandere light yagami #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere death note #light yagami x reader #reader insert #yandere reader insert #yandere x you #yandere x reader #uh oh spaghettio #tw: yandere #tw yandere

927 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

it meant nothing ~ mark;midsommar

word count: 2094

request?: yes!

“Okay sorry one more. Love you! Mark from Midsommar one where he randomly kisses her and when she tries to talk to him about it he avoids the conversation. Then one night at a party they end up having the conversation and admit they like each other and it leads to smut?”

description: a drunk night out with friends turns into something so much more when her best guy friend kisses her

pairing: mark x female!reader

warning: swearing, sorta smutty but no actual smut

masterlist

It started out as a friendly game of bowling between you and Mark, and Dani and Christian. Josh was sick and couldn’t make it, which resulted in you four deciding to divide into teams of four to play.

It became a little more fun when Christian suggested to add alcohol to the mix when the bowling alley’s Happy Hour started. You all agreed and began to drink as you played. Before you knew it, the four of you were warmly tipsy and the fun game became a little more sloppy and a bit more competitive.

“What do we get when we win?” you half slurred as you got up for your final turn. Dani and Christian were ahead by two points, and you were the final player to go. If you could get one good bowl, you and Mark would win the game.

“Nothing, cause you’re not gonna win,” Christian responded as he took a final sip of his empty beer.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah whatever. Watch and learn losers.”

You tried to line up the ball the best you could, but it was hard when the alley was spinning. You tried to steady yourself, to make it seem like you had this. If you were going to lose, you were at least going to lose looking like you were confident that you’d win.

You stride forward, tripping just as you rolled the ball. You could hear Christian cackling behind you, followed by Dani telling him to stop. You watched in horror, thinking the ball was going to go in the gutter and ruin your chance at a win, when it swerved into the middle of the lane and hit the middle pin!

“Strike!” you called excitedly, turning back to the group. “Mark and I win!”

“No fair!” Christian called. “You cheated!”

“At bowling?” Mark asked. “Don’t be a sore loser, dipshit. Just get us another drink, we’ll take that as our prize.”

Christian rolled his eyes and got up to go get you and Mark one last round of drinks. Mark stood to celebrate your win with you. You were excitedly talking about your strike when he lifted you into his arms and spun you around. You were about to tell him to stop, as the spinning mixed with your alcohol was definitely not making a great mix, when suddenly Mark pressed his lips to yours.

Despite the only other stragglers being so engrossed in their own games, it felt like the whole bowling alley had stopped to look at you both. You were so shocked you could barley think to pull away. Although, did you want to pull away? His lips were so soft, and he was such a good kisser. Maybe you could let it go on for a little longer.

Mark, however, didn’t think this way and suddenly pulled away, looking at you in shock. You weren’t sure what to say, or do. He looked horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he had done. He backed away, a hand over his mouth. Before you could say anything, he turned and raced out of the bowling alley doors. You and Dani shared a shocked look as Christian returned, carrying your drinks.

“What’s up with him?” Christian asked.

As Dani began to explain what had happened, you raced after Mark. Suddenly sobering up, it was easier to walk straight now. You pushed through the doors and looked around the parking lot, but the familiar brunette was nowhere to be found.

“Mark?” you called. “Mark?! Mark!”

There was no response. After looking around the whole parking lot, you realized it was useless. He had gotten such a better head start than you, he couldn’t jumped into a taxi and been almost home by now.

You ran a hand through your hair, confused by tonight’s events.

~~~~~~

Nearly a week had passed and you still hadn’t heard from Mark. You texted and called him countless times, but he either left you on read or didn’t answer his phone. On some occasions, it seemed as though he had his phone shut off. You got so angry that eventually, when his phone went to voicemail yet again, you decided to tell him exactly how you felt.

Dani had coaxed you into coming to a party with her that Friday night in order to get your mind off of things. Although, it didn’t take too much convincing as you were ready to go drinking until you couldn’t remember a single thing that happened that night, maybe you’d even go home with some guy to get the memory of Mark’s lips off of yours.

The night was going fine at first; you were dressed to the nines, looking hot as hell, grinding up against some guy that was also almost drunk. You were both basically almost fucking in the middle of the dancefloor.

And that’s when you spotted him across the room; Mark. He was glaring daggers at the guy you were dancing with and you felt your face heat up with anger. How dare he act all jealous after the way he had been treating you all week? What did he have to be jealous of anyways? He was the one who ran away and had been ignoring you since the kiss, not the other way around. With that in mind, you decided to have a little bit of fun.

You were turned to be facing your partner, and decided to lean closer into him, so that you were pressing as closely against him as you could be. You lowered your head against the crook of his neck, hearing his breathing hitch as your hot breath touched his neck.

“Damn, baby, you’re fucking sexy,” he breathed.

Your eyes were still trained on Mark, who had made eye contact with you. “You think so? Cause I think you’re the sexiest guy here.”

“I can’t argue with that.” His hands were traveling up your legs. They stopped just below the hem of your dress, as if waiting to see if you’d object. When you didn’t, he slid his hands under your dress and cupped your bare ass, pulling you so that his crotch was rubbing against your own. Your head lulled back as a soft moan escaped from your lips, drowned out by the sound of the thumping music. “Let’s get out of here.”

You looked back to see Mark escaping the room as fast as he possibly could. Part of you felt bad, but the other part was still angry and wanted to know what his problem was. You smiled up at the guy and said, “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded as you turned to follow Mark. Luckily, the hallway he went down only had one door - the bathroom. So you knew exactly where he went.

You turned the knob only to find that it was locked. You pounded on the door, making sure he could hear you over the sound of the music. His familiar voice responded, “Occupied!”

“It’s me, let me in!”

There was a brief hesitation and you were sure he was going to ignore your request. You were reaching for the bobby pin in your hair, ready to pick the lock and let yourself in, when you heard the lock turn and the door opened just a crack. You took this opportunity to shove the door open, revealing Mark leaning against the bathroom counter.

“Don't you have some frat boy to go fuck?” he hissed.

You laughed, humorlessly. “I do, but I have to deal with the asshole who’s been ghosting me all week first, so I can fuck that frat boy without having to worry about you.”

Mark scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me. I was gonna leave soon anyways.”

“Not before you talk to me.” You kicked the door closed behind you and leaned against it, blocking Mark’s path. “What the hell is your problem? Why have you been avoiding me all week?”

“You’re like 100 pounds soaking wet, I can get past you no problem.”

“That’s not what I asked.” You leaned forward, managing to get in Mark’s face while also still standing in front of the door. “I asked what your problem was.”

“I don’t have a problem. I just don’t want some clingy bitch trying to call and text me all the time because of one kiss. It meant nothing, I was drunk, you were drunk, get over it.”

His words felt like you had been stabbed with a knife. You tried not to let yourself falter. You had to hold some sort of higher grounds here, you couldn’t let him know his words had gotten to you.

“Really?” you scoffed. “Cause that’s not how it seemed when you ran out of the bowling alley like a bat out of hell after kissing me. Seemed like you regretted it.”

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I regret kissing you?”

Your hand moved before your mind could register what you were doing. Mark’s head snapped back as the sound of skin colliding with skin rang out through the bathroom. Your hand stung from the slap, but seeing Mark’s shocked and hurt face was worth it.

“Don’t act like a big fuckboy in front of me,” you told him. “You forget that I know the real you, Mark, and you’re not the asshole that you try to portray yourself to be to your friends. You’re a nice, kindhearted guy, and you’d never say this sort of stuff to your friends. At least, I thought we were friends. Maybe you were just using me to get in my pants, like all those other girls.”

You turned to leave, but Mark stopped you by taking hold of your arm. “Wait, (Y/N), don’t go. I’m sorry.”

You looked down at his hand, not daring to meet his eye. What he had said had really hurt, and you were afraid that if you looked at him you’d start crying. When he took his hand away, you turned to face him again, swallowing your sadness and replacing it with anger.

“You...you’re not just some girl I’m trying to fuck. You were never that to me,” he began to explain. “You’re one of my best friends, even more than that. I...I’ve really liked you for some time, and I keep trying to build up the courage to ask you out, but I’m terrified that you’ll say no and it’ll ruin our friendship. At the bowling alley, I was indeed drunk, and I got swept up in the moment of us winning and I just...I didn’t think. When I finally realized what I was doing, I was terrified that I had fucked everything up. That’s why I ran away, and that’s why I was ignoring you. I didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences of what I had done.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” you asked. “Or better yet, why didn’t you just tell me any of this? Do you realize how worried I was about you? You left the bowling alley drunk and I didn’t hear from you all week. I was afraid something had happened.”

“I know, it wasn’t my proudest moment, but - ” he stopped suddenly. “Wait, that’s the reaction you have to me telling you I’ve liked you for a long time?”

A small smile came across your face. “Yeah, it is. Cause that’s not that big of a deal to me. I like you, too, but you always seemed to be so into other girls, or just hooking up with girls, I didn’t think I stood a chance.”

You could tell Mark was trying not to get too excited at what you were telling him, but a small smile was starting to appear on his face. “So...does that mean...you’d wanna go out on a date sometime? Maybe try being more than friends?”

You made a face like you were thinking. “I don’t know, you kind of insulted me tonight. You might need to start by making it up to me, maybe by buying me a milkshake and seeing where things go.”

He was now smiling, like a kid in a candy store. “Okay, I can do that. But what about that guy that’s waiting for you.”

You had almost forgot about the guy you had been dancing with. You shrugged, as if it were no big deal, before responding, “I’m sure he can find someone else to take home.”

#mark #mark imagine #will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #midsommar #midsommar imagine #imagine #one shot #request

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jemej3m · 4 years

Text

Dare You

anon asked:

If your still doing prompts... What about if Neil and Andrew are friends and Neil figures out that he likes Andrew and asks his friends how to woo him and then Andrew has to deal with Neil's terrible attempts at wooing. But everything neils doing is the same thing that Andrews been doing but in his own way? Idk, the idea just won't leave me alone and I'd love to see how amazing you could write it. Love your writing besides, it always makes my day :)

also on ao3!!

Neil and Andrew had been friends for 5 years when they have their first kiss.

The context? Neil’s small-town friends had all found themselves at the same university. Obviously, they banded together. Obviously, there were parties. Neil’s not a party person himself, but he loved his eclectic family and wanted spend time with them whenever he could. He’d moved to Palmetto when he was 13 with his mother, and as the youngest of the group, watched as the rest of them moved on from middle school to high school, and then from high school to college.

But now they were all back together again.

Thus developed his (mild) enjoyment of Allison or Nicky’s chaotic fiascos, which were technically parties, just lacking any rhyme or reason.

Andrew wasn’t a party person either: in high school, he, Neil and Renee would have movie nights instead, waiting for the rest of them to stumble home in drunken stupors.

He still tagged along to these gatherings, though. Maybe because Neil and Renee were now commonly in attendance. Neil didn’t think that Andrew would come just for Neil, but he hadn’t worked out why Andrew had become so inclined to participate. Maybe because Aaron was there, and they were trying to patch things up with one another. Their mother’s accident had really put a rift between them.

“Are you playing?” Allison demanded. “Neil, you’re playing. Renee’s managed to convince Andrew to play, so you’re playing.”

“Fine,” Neil mused, mostly to appease the inebriated monster that Allison was. No attention was paid to him in these drinking games, mostly because he didn’t drink, but also because he didn’t do anything too unreserved.

“Great!” she cheered, slinging an arm around his shoulder and brought him to the circle. He automatically took his seat next to Andrew, and felt his friend lean closer.

Friend was a loose term. Neil and Andrew were almost attached at the hip: When Neil’s mom had died two years ago, Andrew snatched him away and got a spare mattress in his bedroom till Neil had enough money to afford rent somewhere. Andrew was the only one who knew every horrific detail of Neil’s violent childhood, and the only one who’d seen the scars left by his dead-beat dad. Neil was the only one who knew everything about Andrew, too.

“Spin the bottle, Allison?” Dan leered as the girl put an empty beer bottle in the centre of the circle. Everyone was there. “We’ve got family members here!” Aaron mimed a retching action as Nicky laughed, clapping loudly.

“It’s just to pick who has to do truth or dare,” Allison retorted, waving the bottle in Dan’s face. “You wanna go first, huh? I’ll pick out your dare for you, Wilds. A personal attribute!”

“No way,” Dan laughed, leaning back into Matt’s shoulder. The guy was half asleep: alcohol did that to him, sometimes.

“Fine, I’ll spin it,” Allison huffed. With a little too much vigour, she flicked the neck of the bottle, sending it spinning wildly.

And of course, it had to land on Neil.

“First of the night!” Nicky crowed.

“Neil’s just going to pick truth,” Allison complained. “And make us all sad.”

Neil grinned at her. “Not my fault you grew up in a guilded bubble.”

“Shut the fuck up. Choose!”

Neil hummed, cocking his head to the side.

“Don’t do something stupid,” Andrew warned under his breath.

“Dare,” Neil said.

“Here we go,” his best friend sighed.

“Fuck yeah,” Allison grinned. “What should we make you do, hm? We all know you can and will eat anything without even flinching, no clothes-off, no alcohol...”

“Maybe he should go try and steal something,” Kevin slurred. “He’s good at it. Fuckin’ hot-wired a car once, for the hell of it.”

“Fuck off, Kevin,” Neil managed, ignoring the incredulous looks that the others were giving him.

“When the hell did you manage that?” Dan demanded. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt mumbled, burrowing his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder. No one heard him.

“We should see if he can jump from the dorm roof!”

“No,” Andrew said.

“He should shotgun three Caprisuns,”

“Too easy!”

“Fine, five!”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt repeated, sitting up and blinking the sleepiness away.

The circle grew quiet.

“Yeah,” Allison breathed, grinning wildly. She looked to Neil. “You’ve gotta kiss Andrew.”

Neil glanced at Andrew, whose gaze was hooded as he glared at the been in his hand.

“I’m not doing that if Andrew doesn’t want to,” Neil said.

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“See?” Allison said, gesturing wildly. “Pucker up, Josten.”

“Well, this isn’t how I expected this to go,” Neil muttered. Andrew looked up at him, something making his eyes sparkle. “Tonight, I mean.”

“Right,” Andrew said. “Well? Hurry up.”

Neil hadn’t kissed many people before. Andrew knew that all too well: he’d heard about all three of Neil’s dating disasters in meandering rants about expectations and Neil’s lack of interest in - well, anyone, really.

He was overthinking this. It was just a kiss.

“And no measly pecks, either!” Dan insisted.

Andrew didn’t care. It was just a kiss.

Neil felt all stiff and awkward, because he had no idea what he was doing, but it was fine, because Andrew was tilting his head and lifting up his hand to press his fingertips to Neil’s cheek, tilting up his chin a bit. Neil let him.

When Andrew drew back, all Neil could think was that his lips were so soft. So soft. Everything about the kiss had been feather light, which wasn’t like Andrew at all.

Neil learned new things about Andrew every day.

“Happy?” Andrew said, facing the circle once more. Allison was cheering as Nicky and Aaron gave each other all-knowing side eye: Dan was clapping, and Matt was looking right at Neil with his head tilted to the side. “Now: go pick on someone else.”

“Someone your own size, might you say?” Nicky teased. Andrew flipped him off.

It had been a nice kiss, Neil thought. He didn’t know Andrew could kiss like that.

“You with us, Neil?”

Neil glanced up and found everyone looking at him. “Yeah? Why?” He frowned. “Did it land on me again?” Did he have to kiss Andrew again? He didn’t want to: not in front of everyone, at least.

Wait, what?

“You’ve been spared for now,” Allison grinned. Neil flipped her off.

And that was Andrew and Neil’s first kiss.

Neil burst into Matt and Kevin’s dorm room - obviously, he and Andrew shared one, and Aaron was in the fancy dormitory for academic scholarship students - in a small frenzy.

“Hey,” he told Kevin, who was sitting on his bed minding his own business. “Fuck off.”

Kevin glared at him. “You realise this is my room?”

Matt took off his headphones, looking over his shoulder from the tiny desk he’d crammed in at the end of his bed. It was comedically small in comparison with his gargantuan frame.

“Please?” Neil begged. “I need to talk to Matt.”

“Why can’t I hear it?” Kevin demanded. “I’ve literally known you longer than anyone else. We used to watch each other shit in toddler potties, Neil.”

That was true. Still, Neil needed Matt, his not-childhood friend.

“Dude,” Matt said. “Neil and I are bros. Somethings are just bro to bro. You talk to Andrew about shit you don’t talk to Neil about, yeah? Y’all are like brothers. That’s different from being bros.”

“None of that made sense,” Kevin muttered, packing up his shit. He glared at Neil. “I’ll be in the common room. You’re making up for this by editing my thesis.”

“Looking forward to it,” Neil said dryly, ushering Kevin out the door and leaning against it, feeling a little breathless.

Matt jumped onto his bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come hither, child.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Neil complained, dutifully crossing the tiny room and curling up into a ball on the mattress next to him. Matt patted him on the shoulder gently, though it still managed to send shocks right to his fingers and toes. Matt was just a big guy.

“What’s this all about?” Matt pushed, when Neil stayed in a curled ball.

Neil’s head flopped back, thudding against the wall. He swallowed, staring at the ceiling.

“I like Andrew.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Matt laughed.

“No, Matt.” Neil glared towards the window. “I think I’m in love with Andrew.”

“Yes,” Matt said earnestly. “I know.”

Neil’s neck nearly snapped what with how fast he looked at Matt. “What?”

His friend snorted. “Dude, you’ve always been infatuated with him. We’re best friends, Neil. You and Kevin are best friends. Do you really want to go cuddling up with either of us, like you do with Andrew? Do you spend hours with either of us at a time, just talking? Do you dream about us? Have you told us everything about you?”

“How do you know I’ve done those things with Andrew?” Neil accused, even though he was completely right.

Matt shrugged. “That’s how I am with Dan.”

“We’ve cuddled,” Neil said weakly.

Matt slung his arm around Neil’s narrow shoulders. It was like wearing a blanket. “Hell yes, we have. But that’s not what I mean.”

“We don’t do that.”

“Head out of the gutter, bucko. Remember that photo Allison managed of the two of you? Asleep on the couch? You were literally asleep on Andrew’s chest: one of his legs was hooked over your hip. That’s some serious canoodling, bro.”

“You’ve analysed us that intensely,” Neil said flatly.

Matt snorted. “It’s kinda hard not to. You’re both all over each other. I’d say it’s sweet if it wasn’t, well, you and Andrew.”

“So if you knew I liked him,” Neil complained. “Why’d you dare me to kiss him? Now I’m aware of it, and I hate it!”

“That was kinda the point,” Matt admitted. “Why the hell do you hate it? Love is a good thing!”

“Need I remind you of my parents?”

Matt shoved him gently. “Don’t start pulling the parent card. Neil, you’ve loved Andrew for years. And - well, I can’t really read him, no one can - I think he likes you back.”

“He does not,” Neil insisted.

“He does!” Matt sung. “You know what you have to do now, Josten?”

“No,” Neil said, sullen.

“You’ve gotta woo him.”

“Here we go,” Neil mumbled.

Matt winked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Andrew will be head over heels for you in no time.”

“So,” Neil said, sitting on his bed. Andrew was reading a book, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He only wore them in their room, even though everyone knew Aaron had reading glasses and thus Andrew would have to wear them too. He had his armbands off and a pair of knitted socks on. Neil had become so keenly aware over everything that constituted of Andrew recently: it was driving him up the wall.

Andrew looked at Neil from over his book. “What?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want to go somewhere?”

Andrew glanced at his watch. “Now?”

Neil shrugged again.

“What’s this about?” Andrew asked, sitting up.

“Nothing!” Neil stressed. “Just thought it might be good to - get out?”

“It’s a Tuesday evening,” Andrew said flatly.

Neil deflated. “We don’t have to go.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine.” Neil perked up. “Where did you want to go?”

Neil hadn’t thought that far ahead. “David’s?”

“David’s,” Andrew repeated. “Neil, you don’t like diner food.”

“Well, now I do!” He really needed to stop the hiccups in his voice. Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he yanked on his coat and shoved his keys and phone into his pocket.

“Now I’m even more suspicious,” Andrew said, watching Neil’s erratic behaviour with mild amusement. “You’ve never willingly taken that phone with you unless I forcefully reminded you too.”

He needed it to text Matt. “We all learn and grow,” he said breezily, escaping out the door. “Hurry up, I want coffee!”

“It’s nearly fucking midnight,” Andrew growled.

He skipped ahead till he arrived at the dorm’s parking lot: Andrew’s was in the corner, where it couldn’t be scratched. After his mother’s death he’d used his portion of her life insurance to buy the thing, but it hadn’t got him more than a heap of junk. He’d spent a whole summer fixing it up: Neil had watched him from the corner of his garage, a little mesmerised.

Fuck, he liked Andrew so much. He could hardly contain it within himself.

He switched the radio to Andrew’s favourite channel as they drove to David’s, an old diner on the corner of campus. It was run by a grouchy old man by the name of David Wymack, hence the name. He served the only pancakes Andrew would speak well of, and sometimes Neil could withstand the fruit smoothies.

Andrew glanced over at Neil at the music choice - Neil almost always usually bickered with him about playing heavy rock when it got past 9 o’clock - but said nothing, continuing to drive.

There was almost no one in David’s when they arrived, even though he usually shut at one. Neil was relieved for that: he didn’t feel like anyone watching him as he failed miserably at wooing Andrew Minyard.

Andrew got his pancakes and Neil decided to try the blueberry smoothie, sans ice cream.

“What is wrong with you,” Andrew muttered.

It clearly wasn’t going well. Neil grimaced and shrugged. “Dunno.”

Andrew squinted at him. “Are you upset?”

“What? No!”

“Can you bozos stop wasting my time?” Wymack huffed.

“Fuck you too, old man,” Andrew said. Wymack flipped him off and proceeded to put an extra scoop of ice-cream onto Andrew’s plate. Their relationship was baffling, especially after Andrew worked the summer here with Renee.

They sat at a corner table, a little ceramic jug with plucked daisies plonked in the centre of the red-and-white chequered table cloth.

“You seem jittery,” Andrew said.

“I’m fine,” Neil managed. Andrew reached out with his hand under the table to stop Neil’s leg from bouncing. The heat from his palm was addictive. Neil made a strange squawking noise, and Andrew immediately withdrew his hand.

“You’re fine,” Andrew repeated.

“Yup,” Neil insisted. Andrew’s pancakes arrived, so Neil tried to distract himself from the ruffled blonde hair and pale eyelashes and the freckles on his nose, sipping at the smoothie. Neil didn’t know what to do with that information. It was quite unnerving.

They were done by half-past-twelve, when Andrew decided to get up and leave without warning. Neil - in a moment’s panic - took one of the daisies from the jug and hopped up after him.

Andrew was leaning against his car door, lighting up two cigarettes. Moonlight shone down, curling in his hair and curving across his jaw. Neil found himself a little star struck.

Andrew offered up the second cigarette and Neil took it from between his fingers with his lips, like he usually did. This time all he could notice was how close it put them, and the shape of Andrew’s lips. Now Neil knew what they felt like, too.

This is ridiculous, Neil thought.

“Why are you holding a flower?” Andrew asked.

Neil looked down to where the daisy rested in his palm. He brought it up and tucked it behind Andrew’s ear. The tips of Andrew’s ears went very pink: he had to be warm in that large sweater of his.

“Don’t know,” Neil answered truthfully, looking at where the daisy drooped down over the shell of Andrew’s ear.

“Okay,” Andrew managed, though his voice was a bit strained. What if he was allergic to daisies? No, that was ridiculous. Neil would know if he was allergic to daisies.

They finished their cigarettes in the quiet. Everything was so muddled. Neil just wanted it to go back to normal. And yet: he wanted to kiss Andrew.

Fucking hell, he thought.

“Back to the drawing board,” Neil announced, bursting into Matt’s dorm room again. Kevin wasn’t there, thankfully.

Matt arched his brow. “Huh?”

“Date and flowers didn’t work. What the hell do I do?”

His friend hummed. “What about gifts? Is there something you could give him that’s romantic?”

“He likes chocolate?” Neil hedged.

“Could work,” Matt acknowledged. “Or, you know, we could make him jealous.”

“Absolutely not,” Neil grimaced.

“Just a thought.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Neil groaned, sinking into a puddle on the floor.

The door opened as Kevin stepped through. He didn’t even pause, stepping right over where Neil had melted onto the floor.

“Don’t mind him,” Matt acknowledged.

Neil made an exasperated noise.

“Have you always been so dramatic?” Kevin acknowledged.

“Maybe you could recite a monologue to him,” Matt suggested.

Kevin frowned. “Who?”

Before Neil could shush him, Matt sung out “Andrew!” with a cheerful smile.

Kevin signed. “Fucking finally. Everyone’s been waiting years for the two of you to sort yourselves out.”

“What?” Neil sat up. “Are you serious?”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Neil groused.

“He’s trying to woo Andrew into liking him back,” Matt informed Kevin.

Kevin frowned. “Why don’t you just tell him that you like him?”

“Because that’s mortifying?”

“You’re such a horribly adjusted human being,” Kevin muttered.

“He’s kinda right,” Matt acknowledged. “I just kept asking Dan on dates till she accepted.”

“No,” Neil hoisted himself to his feet. “I’ll figure it out. It won’t have to come to that.” He glared at both of them. “Thanks for nothing. Neither of you know anything about relationships.”

“We are both in committed, loving, long-term partnerships,” Kevin pointed out.

“Love you too!” Matt called as Neil stomped out.

Neil eventually developed a checklist.

Spontaneous midnight date? Nope. Flowers? Definitely a no. Making him a mixtape? Not the right decade.

Accompanying him places definitely didn’t work: Neil was late to all his classes for a week. Cooking for two also didn’t work, seeing as the only thing Neil could cook was 2 Minute Noodles.

Chocolates was a moderate success, but it probably didn’t help the wooing cause. It didn’t help that they roomed together: Neil didn’t get much time to scheme, because neither of them were social butterflies, and their dorm room was their safe space.

The only thing he thought could’ve been counted a success was when they decided to rewatch the last two Harry Potter movies together: Andrew yanked Neil over to his bed and they nestled into the corner to watch the films from Andrew’s laptop. Neil was so consumed by the thought kiss him kiss him kiss him that he barely registered either of the films.

One month passed since Neil’s epiphany, then one and a half: It even got too the point that Neil jostled Andrew’s shoulder at another of Allison’s ‘parties’ and said “Remember the last time she made us participate?” to which Neil only received an odd look and stale silence.

He also tried to rig one of Allison’s silly games, giving Andrew a piece of paper that asked do you like someone? Andrew set the thing on fire with his lighter, and the dormitory nearly had to be evacuated.

Neil was beginning to lose hope.

“You upset, Neil?” Renee asked, dropping into the chair next to him. He was studying in the library, one of the few places he knew Andrew wouldn’t follow.

“Hi, Renee,” Neil said, sullen.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She twisted herself around to face him. “What’s up?”

“Can’t talk to you about it,” Neil mumbled, resting his head on his folded arms and glaring at the table.

“You know,” Renee said, slightly amused. “I overheard something about someone being interested in Andrew recently.”

Neil sat up. “You did? Who?” He’d fight them. Not that he was possessive, or jealous.

Renee laughed. “You, silly.”

Neil deflated. “Does everyone know? I feel like I was the last one to figure it out.”

Renee patted his shoulder gently. “Almost the last one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Andrew doesn’t know.”

“Good,” Neil huffed out. “That’d be embarrassing.”

Renee shook her head.

“He’s never going to like me back,” Neil mumbled. “I’ve been trying so hard, but he won’t notice.”

“He did mention you were acting odd, recently,” Renee acknowledged.

Neil huffed. “Yeah, well. There’s no point in keeping it up, is there? Not if nothing will happen.”

“You know,” she said. “I always found clarity in honesty.” With that, she winked and slid off her stool. “See you around, Neil.”

“Yeah,” Neil muttered. “See you.”

Neil dressed quickly in the shower stall and hooked his towel over his shoulder, carrying his small caddy back to his room. He was wearing old pyjamas: fire-engine truck flannels with one of Matt’s oversized (or normal sized, for him) hoodies that went all the way to his fingertips. He shook out his wet hair as he traversed from the bathroom back to his dorm room and shouldered his way in, the door unlocked. That meant Andrew was back.

And back, Andrew was: facing the wall, he was tugging off a turtleneck sweater and yanking on a t-shirt that Neil recognised as his: he’d already changed into grey sweats that were too long for him, hanging around the ankles.

Neil slowly put his soap back onto his little shelf, hanging his towel on a wall hook. Andrew glanced over his shoulder at him, acknowledging Neil’s presence, before going back to unpacking from his day and readying for bed.

Neil felt sucker-punched.

“Andrew?”

He glanced back again, brows furrowing at Neil’s strange tone. “What?”

When Neil couldn’t answer, he dropped what he was doing and came closer. His fingers curled in Neil’s collar, tugging him closer.

“You’re pale as shit,” he commented. “Are you going to collapse?”

“I’m already falling,” Neil joked weakly.

“What?”

Andrew stepped back. Dammit, Neil thought. “What the hell is going on, Neil? You’ve been acting fucking weird for ages, now.”

“I really like you,” Neil breathed out.

Andrew froze.

“I wasn’t meant to say that,” Neil bit out, folding his arms over his chest. “But I can’t get over it. Ever since we kissed I’ve been kinda losing my mind, and everyone’s told me I’ve liked you for years -”

“Shut up,” Andrew said fiercely, stomping right up into Neil’s space, crowding him against the door.

“Um,” Neil mumbled, blinking.

“You’re the worst,” Andrew hissed. “You’ve been doing all this shit because you like me? I thought you were working up to telling me you were leaving!”

“What?” Neil echoed.

“Shut up,” Andrew complained. “You’re the fucking worst. I hate you.”

And then he kissed him. Andrew kissed Neil, that is. It was definitely one of the best moments of Neil’s life, which wasn’t saying much, considering his track record. Still, Neil’s fingers spread out across Andrew’s shoulder blades as his hands grasped Neil’s jaw, kissing him for real, this time.

Neil had been right: it was definitely better when there was no one else watching.

Andrew’s shoulders were hunched over when he fell back, pressing his forehead to Neil’s shoulder.

“You like me?” Neil asked, voice higher and breathier than he thought he could manage. “Since when?”

“I hate you,” Andrew retorted. Then, quieter, he said: “Since forever.”

Neil’s hands pressed him closer: this wasn’t unfamiliar, the proximity, Andrew’s touch, breath wafting over bare skin. But the warmth encompassing it made sense now.

“Okay,” he said. And then: “Me too.”

“Were you trying to woo me with 2 Minute Noodles?” Andrew inquired.

“No,” Neil said sheepishly.

Andrew shook his head, tilting Neil’s head down for another kiss. Then he signed against Neil’s lips. “I hate you. So much.”

Neil grinned.

HEEHEEE

#wow #nice prompt anon!#that was fun #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #no exy au #college au #friends to lovers #truth or dare #andrew the whole time: im going to pretend that hes doing this because he likes me and im going to enjoy it #the foxes #matt boyd #an honorary mention #the foxhole court #jem writes

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