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jordie-gvf · 2 years ago

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GQ, josh kiszka

summary : josh and y/n kiszka do the gq couples quiz

warnings : language, allusions to sex

word count : 1.5k+

pairing : josh kiskza x fem!reader

enjoy

You and Josh had been together for quite a while now. When Greta performed at Helping Hands, You and Josh had been invited to do the GQ Couples Quiz. Josh really wanted to do it, to put your 9 year relationship to the test.

When GQ invited you two, they said to dress comfy, as you and Josh were going to be sitting in a bean bag chair together.

When you and Josh got into the car they sent, he was already excited to film.

“Do you think we’ll do good? I know you pretty well. But, do you know me?” he questioned you.

“J, we've been together for 9 years, married for 6, I'm sure both do fine.” you told him, and laughed.

The driver pulled up into the stages, Josh got out first, and grabbed your hand and led you inside.

The director led you two into a studio and you saw a giant LOVESAC waiting for you two.

Josh came up next to you and whispered in your ear, “Is this an excuse to have you on top of me?” and laid down in the bean bag. He patted his lap and said, “Come here, Mama.” and pulled you on top of him.

They handed you question cards and told you that they were rolling and were ready whenever you were. “I'll let my wife go first.” Josh said, letting everyone in the room know exactly who you were.

Josh looked into the camera as best he could with you on top of him and said, “Hi, This is Josh Kiszka and I'm here with my wife, Y/N Kiszka.” He paused and you both said, “And this is the GQ Couples Quiz!”

You read the first card out to him, “What is my favorite color?”

“Easy, anything neon. Look at her fucking nails, neon pink. But, she prefers lime green.” he looked into the camera and winked.

“Alright, he got that one. Is anyone keeping track of what he makes?” you asked.

He cut you off and said, “I'm gonna make them all. Im gonna get them all right.”

“Alright, next question. What is my signature dish I always make?” you asked him.

“Again, easy. Pork tacos. Almost every week when she plans the dinner menu, pork tacos are going to be on the menu. And it's my favorite.” he said.

“Correct, he got that right.” you told them.

“What is my best friend's name?” you asked him.

“You have two, Danny and Ronnie, would be their names. But you consider Danny to be more like our child.” he stated.

“That is very true. Danny is our child and we love him very much. Ronnie is his sister, in case anyone didn't know that, and if I wasn't married to him, I would be with her, just saying”

“Wow, you'd go for my sister instead of me?” he said, joking around with you. “Id consider it,” you said to him, only half joking.

“What is my love language?” you asked him, not expecting to know what that means.

“Well, acts of service and physical touch.” he said and raised his eyebrows and smirked. You lightly tapped him on the chest. “You're so gross, J.”

“No, but seriously. She cooks for me. Whenever I come home from recording and she can tell it's been a hard day, she runs a relaxing bath for me. I'm so in love with her, it's crazy.” he said.

You looked into his eyes and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. You read the next card, as best you could.

“What is my favorite way to de-stress after a long day?” you asked and started laughing. He raised his eyebrows again and laughed with you. “Well, what the doctor said,” he started to say. You told him, “That's your favorite way for me to de-stress, what's mine?” He said, “Usually, a back rub and a peach daiquiri.”

You nodded your head into the camera and said, “Correct. You're doing really well.”

“How many tattoos do I have?” you asked him.

“Oh god, I have no idea.” he said and rubbed his chin. “At least 1.” he said. You shrugged and said, “I don't even know how many I have. Give him a point”

“Can I make up my own questions? Is that allowed?” you asked the director. She nodded and you asked Josh, “What is my order at Mellow Mushroom?”

He threw his head back and said, “Fuck, hold on.” It took him a minute to get the name of it. “Either the Pacific Rim or the Buffalo Chicken,”

You gave him a high five and said, “Yes, good job. So you got all the questions right, so now it's your turn to quiz me.”

You laid back on the LOVESAC and let Josh lay on you now. He laid his head down on your stomach and asked, “What is my full name?”

“Joshua Michael Kiszka or Y/N’s sexy husband. Either one.” you said and scratched his head.

He got up and said, “Bro how did you know my whole name? Are we married or something?” he asked you, jokingly. He laid back down and said, “Yes, she is correct.”

“Who do I look up to?” he asked you. You said, “Ooh, there could be 1 of 2 people. Either Jake or your father.” he nodded and told them that you were correct.

“Ooh you have to answer this next question, I need to know what your answer is, okay? What is my favorite sex position.” he asked.

Your eyes widened and you looked down at him. “Well he always tells me he likes to look at me, so probably basic ass missionary but he also likes cowgirl.” you answered.

“She is very correct, I like both but prefer cowgirl.” he said and rubbed your thigh. “What are my favorite nicknames you call me?” he asked you.

“He likes Cookie, I call him Angel sometimes and he loves it. Um, he likes Joshie too, he hasn't gotten that one in a long time. Whenever Im mad at him its Joshua.” you said. “Yes Cookie is my favorite but you forgot one.” he said. You looked down at him and said, “Which one did I miss?”

“Daddy.” he said, in all seriousness.

“Josh, shut up.”

“Ooh baby, you better get this right, or I'm leaving. What is my favorite film?” he asked.

“I like how he said if I don't get this right that he's leaving, as if it's a hard answer. 2001: A Space Odyssey.” you answered, correctly.

He laughed and looked up at you, smiling at you. He asked you the next question, “What is my favorite part of your body?”

You looked at the director, “Who the hell made these questions?” you asked her. She shrugged and giggled, “No idea, all I know is it's not me!”

“I would say either my lips or my thighs? Maybe, I'm not sure?” you questioned your own answer.

“Who said it was physical? She has a very big heart and she's always been very giving. There was one time before we even started dating. Her and I were in the same theatre class and we hadn't talked before. My girlfriend at the time had just broken up with me before class, and this one over here, came over to me and asked if I was okay. I told her what happened and she hugged me. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a chocolate chip cookie and gave it to me. I knew right then and there, that we were going to be together forever. And that's also why she calls me Cookie,”

When he finished his monologue, the director spoke up and asked both of you, “How did you guys know you were in love with each other? What sparked your relationship?”

Josh looked at you and let you go first. “We had only been friends for a few months before we started dating, I think it was like 3 or 4 months. His family was hosting a Christmas dinner a few days before the holiday. Sam and Jake had girlfriends, he didn't. He didn't want to be left out, so he called me a few days prior and invited me over. Josh, you have no idea how excited I was for that night.” you told him and the crew around you.

“I went out to a dress shop and they had nothing in my size, so I gave up. I had called him and told him, “I don't know if I can make it, I can't find a dress in my size” and his response was, “wear jeans and a t-shirt. I want you there with me.” and that sparked every single feeling for me. I ended up finding something to wear. I had on a pair of flare jeans with a soft blue sweater and white converse. I hated the way I looked. Josh came to pick me up at my house, and when I walked downstairs, the first thing he said to me was, “You look so beautiful, Y/N.” As soon as he said that to me, I knew that I loved him.” you finished off.

He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and said, “I love you, Mama.”

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fluff #josh gvf #josh kiszka #greta van fluff #greta van fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic

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lemoncrushh · 7 months ago

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Wild Horses - Three

Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.

A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).

STORY PAGE

Chapter Three Word Count: 5.1k+

"I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now..." - Taylor Swift; Everything Has Changed (ft. Ed Sheeran)

Harry clapped enthusiastically when Amber and her band finished the song they'd been rehearsing. Watching from the audience, he caught the little smirk on Amber's face as she looked at the ground and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It had been their third run-through and he could tell she was nervous. It could have been because it was supposed to be their new single and she wanted to get it just right, or it could have been because he was watching, he wasn't sure. Either way, he thought they sounded great, and by Friday night when the tour officially kicked off, he had no doubt she'd have it down perfectly.

Opting for a break, Amber slung her guitar strap over her head and laid her instrument on its stand.

"That's good for now, guys," she told her band. "Next time, let's try it a little faster tempo maybe? See how it sounds with less echo, too."

Johnny and Brendan nodded, returning their guitars to their stands before following Carter backstage. Rising from his seat, Harry met Amber beside the soundboard where she discussed briefly with the tech a few things she wanted to tweak next time.

"Sounding good up there," he commented.

"Ugh, I don't know," she replied, biting her lip as she tucked that same stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. "I feel a little rusty. I hope it sounds better Friday night."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," encouraged Harry. "You're really talented. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't believe it."

Amber's face softened, a bit of rosiness on her cheeks which did not go unnoticed by Harry.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Harry leaned forward. "Do I make you nervous?" he asked softly.

"Huh?" She hadn't meant to make that sound. She regretted it immediately. Harry smiled anyway.

"By being here," he explained. "Watching your rehearsal."

"Oh, um..." Amber swallowed. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little nervous. But...I kinda like you being here. Makes me feel...important. Like I've made it, or something."

Harry's grin widened as he stood up straight. "Good. You should feel that way."

Unsure how to reply, Amber shrugged. "Um...I'm gonna go..." she pointed behind her, "grab a bite to eat."

"Of course."

"I don't suppose..." Amber hesitated. Harry raised his eyebrows in question. "...you ever eat dinner with your opening act?"

Amber caught the slight twitch in Harry's lips before his left dimple appeared.

"I mean...I know you send them trays of snacks and sodas and bottled water...which by the way," she held up her hands, "we really did appreciate! Oh my God, did I say that already?"

Harry chuckled then. "You did."

She was cute, he admitted to himself. Alright, so maybe he'd admitted it to himself already, when they'd first met in fact. But almost as quickly, he'd vowed that this would be strictly a professional relationship, albeit a friendly one. Getting involved in any other way would be a recipe for disaster, and he was willing to stick to his guns. Still, when she'd thanked him profusely for the food he'd set up for the band backstage, the flowers and wine in her hotel room, and again for inviting her band on tour, he couldn't help but feel a wee bit...of a stomach flip - butterflies in his tummy, behind his matching tattoo. And perhaps, that was why he'd found himself strolling into the audience and taking a seat to watch her rehearsal during his free time.

"So...would you like to join us? I doubt we're doing anything fancy. Brendan said he wanted to find some barbecue."

With a slight grin, Harry shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Actually, I have plans," he said. "But maybe next time."

"Oh," Amber mouthed, unable to hide her disappointment. She felt dumb. "'kay."

"Have a nice dinner," said Harry. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Giving him a weak smile, Amber said her goodbyes and walked away to find her band. Harry watched her until she'd disappeared behind the stage. Then with a sigh, he turned around and left the way he'd arrived.

Amber picked at her potato salad, her barbecue sandwich half-eaten. She didn't know why it had disappointed her so much that Harry hadn't joined her for dinner. He had plans, so what? It didn't mean he hadn't wanted to come. And he had said maybe next time. Still, her stomach felt like a pinball machine, the little metal ball rolling around aimlessly and making her nauseous.

"You gonna eat that?" Amber heard next to her. Looking up at Carter, she blinked.

"What?"

"The other half," Carter gestured at her plate with his thumb.

"Oh," Amber sighed. "No. Go ahead."

With a toothy grin, Carter grabbed the sandwich and shoved it into his mouth. Resting her chin in her hand, Amber looked around the restaurant, ready for her escape.

"What's with you?" asked Carter, reaching for his soda to wash down the sandwich he'd just devoured.

"With me?" Amber raised a brow.

"Yeah, you've been quiet all night. And you've barely eaten. You feel okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Something on your mind?"

Amber shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

Carter rolled his eyes, sipping his Coke through the straw. "Whatever."

"What does that mean?"

"It means...whatever."

Amber glared at Carter until he sat back in his chair.

"It's like I can't win with you," he said. "I'm trying to give you your space like you wanted, just be friends. I try to be nice and you snap at me. I try to be concerned and ask if you're okay, and you shut me out."

"I'm not shutting you out-"

"'I'm fine' is what you say when you're not fine, Amber. I know you."

"You know me?" she scoffed.

Carter turned in his seat to face her. "Yeah, I do. You used to talk to me, Ambs. I miss that."

Amber shifted her gaze to Johnny and Brendan across the table who seemed to be deep in their own conversation. She sighed.

"I miss it too," she admitted.

"Yeah?"

Looking down at her plate, she nodded. "Sometimes."

"Pffft," Carter sounded as he rose from his chair. "Tell you what. When that sometimes comes around again, let me know. I'm gonna take a leak. I'll meet you in the van."

Amber glared at Carter incredulously as he walked away. What the hell did he expect her to do, cry and beg to have him hold her while she confessed her deepest, darkest secrets? She'd done that already. And if memory serves, it was always while finishing off a bottle of booze. She was done with that, she'd promised herself.

"What's his deal now?" asked Brendan.

"Who the fuck knows," Johnny mumbled.

"Boy needs to get-"

"Don't!" Amber interrupted, her hand raised.

"Sorry," Brendan said sheepishly.

"Let's go." Grabbing the van keys, Amber stood up. "When we get back, let's do a couple run-throughs and call it a night. I'd like to turn in early."

Standing alone in the kitchen, Amber silently cursed herself for deciding to come to the party. She pulled her phone from her pocket, ready to text Faith, but changed her mind. They hadn't even been there an hour yet, and Faith would have a cow if she had to leave so early.

"Hey."

Amber spun around at the sound, not sure if it was meant for her. Face to face with Dallas Marker, she widened her eyes, her hand gripping her Solo cup. Surely he wasn't speaking to her.

"Are you in my Chem class?" he asked.

"Um, no," she muttered.

"Oh. Thought you were. What's your name?"

"Amber."

"Amber..." he repeated, letting the name simmer on his lips. "Don't think I know an Amber. You a Junior or Senior?"

Amber blushed, looking down at her cup. "Neither."

"Oh shit, you're a Freshman?"

"No, Sophomore."

"Oh, phew," Dallas sounded. "Thank God."

"Why?" Amber asked, furrowing her brow.

Dallas shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Just 'cause you're cute. And I woulda been disappointed if you weren't at least sixteen."

"Oh..." Amber swallowed hard. She swore she was about to tell him she wouldn't be sixteen until next summer, but two more boys walked into the kitchen, interrupting her confession.

"Dallas, bro!" exclaimed the tall guy. Amber was pretty sure he was on the football team, but she forgot his name.

Dallas turned, smacking hands with both boys. "You guys drunk yet?"

"Nah, man," said tall guy. "Just got here. What ya got?"

Dallas shrugged. "Ain't my party, bro."

The other two boys walked around Dallas to the kitchen counter, inspecting the various bottles. One of them picked up the Jack Daniels with a nod.

"Fuck yeah, dude."

"Beer's for pussies," said the other.

Dallas chuckled, suddenly remembering Amber's presence.

"Hey, y'all know Amber?" he asked, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "She's a Sophomore."

The other boys each gave a short nod before filling their own Solo cups with ice and whatever liquor they preferred.

"Whatcha drinkin'?" Dallas asked Amber, looking over her shoulder into her cup.

"Just Coke," she replied meekly.

"Let's put something in that Coke," insisted Dallas.

Amber giggled, unsure if it was because of what he'd said or the fact that his breath tickled her ear. Either way, she wasn't about to refuse a suggestion from Dallas Marker. She watched as he poured a generous amount of Jack into her cup, topping it off with a tiny bit more soda. Then with a sly grin, he handed the cup back to her.

"Drink up," he said.

Amber could smell the strong, pungent odor of alcohol before even taking one sip. But Dallas's eager eyes on her made her lose her senses, and before she knew it, she'd gulped down half the cup. All three boys let out a chorus of whoops and hollers, cheering her on.

"Hell yeah, babe," beamed Dallas, his own cup in his hand as the other slipped around her waist. "My kinda girl."

Amber could taste it on her tongue, a phantom of flavor. She needed a drink. No, she shook her head. She wanted a drink, but she didn't need it.

She sat on her hotel bed, staring at the wall. Wringing her hands in her lap, she took several deep breaths. She knew she could open the mini bar and grab a little bottle of something, but she also knew those things were damn expensive. Besides, one wouldn't end up being enough to get drunk and she'd wind up spending a fortune just to numb herself. Her mouth watered as she debated taking the elevator down to the bar.

The tour kicked off the next day. She was nervous as hell. What if she fucked up on stage, forgot a line to a song or didn't realize her guitar was out of tune? What if the lights got in her eyes and she passed out? What if her voice cracked and everyone laughed?

Taking another deep breath, she rose from the bed, grabbing her room key. Then tip-toeing out into the hall, she turned toward the elevators. She'd just pressed the button when the doors opened and she saw two familiar faces.

"Oh!" she gasped.

"Hi, Amber," grinned Harry as Jeffrey held the door.

"Hi," she greeted, stepping hesitantly inside.

"Where are you off to this evening?"

"Um..." she looked between Harry and Jeff, deciding not to confess the truth. "Nowhere, really. Just thought I might get some fresh air."

"That might not be such a good idea," offered Jeff as he released the doors and they closed. "There's already a line of fans outside, and if they see you, it could grow into a large mob in minutes."

"Are you serious?"

"That shouldn't concern her though, Jeffrey," argued Harry.

"In general, no, but because she's billed as your opening act, she may still get recognized. And that could only fuel the fire."

"What fire?" Harry and Amber asked in unison. Catching her eye, Harry winked.

"The belief that you're at this hotel too."

"But I don't always stay at the same hotel," remarked Harry.

"You didn't used to," Jeff agreed. "But now that Amber is under my management, fans of yours have become aware of that. So if they know for certain she's staying at this hotel, then they can only assume I'm here as well. Therefore...you're here."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Harry groaned, running a hand down his face. Amber bit her lip to keep from giggling.

"It's okay, Jeff," she said. "I understand. Maybe I'll just...wander into the gift shop."

The elevator opened then and Jeff held the door as Harry and Amber stepped off.

"Or you could join us," Harry offered.

"Huh?" Amber sounded, kicking herself once again.

"We were just going to dinner. It's a meeting but..." Harry glanced at Jeff.

"Oh, I can't intrude," Amber held up a hand.

"Nonsense," said Jeff. "You're my client now. I mean, we were going to discuss some personal business, but mostly we just need to eat. Have you eaten?"

"I had a little something earlier," she replied, recalling the microwavable soup. "But my stomach's kind of in knots. Nervous about tomorrow."

"Ah, well you can still join us for a drink, then," offered Jeff. "Or dessert."

"Well..." Amber crinkled her nose. The prospect of a drink did sound good, but she wasn't about to tell them that.

"C'mon," Harry insisted, his hand held out. "I promised to join you for dinner the next time, only you can join me instead."

With a wide smile, Amber tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How can I say no to that?"

Amber felt a little underdressed in the restaurant in her jeans and cardigan, and she wished she'd had time to run back to her room to change. But Harry and Jeffrey had been so nice to allow her to tag along, there was no way she would have made them wait.

"Another glass of wine, Miss?"

"Oh yes, thank you," Amber smiled at the waiter. She wasn't quite finished with the glass she had, but seeing as both men were already on their second glasses, she figured it was okay to order another.

She'd opted for a greek salad, thinking it wouldn't hurt her stomach too much, but she hadn't anticipated its massive size. She'd barely made a dent in it. She wasn't quite used to such sophistication when it came to food and dining, and she worried she looked like a fish out of water, especially next to Harry Styles.

So far, however, her dinner companions had done nothing but make her feel welcome in their presence. Amber found both Harry and Jeff to be delightfully funny, and the way they cracked jokes with each other only proved to her the deep solidarity of their friendship. As far as she was concerned, Harry was ever the gentleman and she understood why he had such a large following. And although she had only come to know Jeffrey a little better in recent weeks since he'd officially become her manager, it was nice to see this lighthearted side of him.

"So how are you feeling now, Amber?" asked Harry as she swallowed the last of her wine. "Still nervous?"

"Are you kidding?" she laughed, lowering her glass, the color rising in her cheeks. "Of course I am. I've never been on a legit tour like this before. I don't really know what to expect. And I have to go on before you. In front of your fans!"

"But they'll be your fans too, soon enough," remarked Jeff.

"You really think so?"

"Of course. Perhaps not all. There will be those who don't care one iota about the opening act. They show up late, or they chat with their friends or buy merch during your set. But there will still be plenty of fans who get excited about the entire experience, and anything remotely connected to Harry. Including you."

Amber's face softened as she took in Jeff's words. Then stealing a glance at Harry, she saw he had the same grin on his face that he'd had when she'd seen him watching her from the audience. It made her feel...special, excited and a little vulnerable at the same time.

Just then, the waiter returned with her second glass of wine and asked if the table needed anything else.

"Yes, actually," said Jeff, "go ahead and bring us a bottle of champagne. We're celebrating."

"Oh gosh!" Amber gasped. "No way I could drink this wine and champagne!"

She knew that was a lie, she could. But she most certainly did not want to look like a lush in front of her new manager and friend, or worse, let them see her puke.

"No worries, you can send it back," assured Jeff.

"Really?"

"Of course."

Amber gave the waiter an apologetic look as he lifted the glass of wine he'd just set on the table, but he only returned her gaze with a polite smile.

"Sorry, I always feel bad sending things back," Amber mumbled, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"Believe me, that waiter's seen a lot worse," Harry chuckled.

"Not from you, I hope," Amber jabbed.

"God, no. I'm not mean."

"Harry is the poster boy for kindness," added Jeff. "And I can promise you, it's not a put-on."

Relaxing a bit, Amber smiled at Harry.

"I've always been curious about that," she said. "I can barely get my bandmates to get along. How do you stay so sweet and kind, and also grounded?"

"Lots of practice," he grinned.

"And therapy."

"Jeffrey!" exclaimed Harry, his eyebrows raised.

"What? Like it's a surprise? We all need it, especially in this business."

Harry looked back at Amber and shrugged. "It's true. I also meditate a lot. Keeps me calm."

"Hmm," Amber sounded. "I might have to try that."

"I have some apps I can show you, and some good playlists-"

"Ah, here we are," Jeff interrupted when the waiter returned with the champagne.

Unsure how loud the cork would pop, Amber braced herself as she watched the waiter, but was relieved when it wasn't loud like in the movies. Filling the first glass, the waiter placed it in front of her, but she waited until Jeff and Harry had theirs.

"Are we toasting?" asked Amber, lifting her class.

"May I?" Harry eyed Jeffrey who nodded. "To...you, Amber," he said, turning to face her.

"Me?"

"Thank you...for joining me on this tour. I see a great future ahead of you, love. And...I hope...a life-long friendship for us both. I'm excited to get to know you better, and even more thrilled that we'll get to experience this journey together."

Amber stared at Harry for a moment, unable to speak, breathe or even blink.

"Hear, hear!" called Jeff, his glass raised.

"Wow," Amber finally muttered. She wasn't sure whether to wipe her eyes or give Harry a hug. Instead, she clinked her glass against his and then with Jeff's. "Thank you, Harry. That was really nice."

"You're welcome," he said. "I'm only sorry we don't have the entire band here for the toast."

"Oh please, they'd probably ruin the moment anyway," Amber chuckled behind her tears. "Their idea of a toast is a couple pitchers of beer over a Falcons game."

Jeff let out a boisterous laugh as Harry had a look of cringe all over his face.

"Yeah," Amber snorted. "Whatever you do, don't tell them you're Packers fans."

It was Harry's turn to laugh then. Amber noticed she really liked his laugh.

"How did you know we were?"

Amber shrugged with a smirk. "I thought it was common knowledge."

Harry's eyes narrowed, though they continued to sparkle and dance with glee. "Hmm."

A giggle slipped from Amber's throat after she took another sip of champagne. Soon enough, she had to excuse herself to the ladies' room. She was finally feeling loose and happy, not tight and nervous like before. She knew the bubbly had something to do with it, but she couldn't deny it also had to do with a certain British guy sitting at her table. He somehow made her feel at ease while also causing butterflies to dance in her tummy. She didn't know how he did it, but she was willing to spend as much time as possible trying to find out.

Harry could feel Jeffrey's eyes on him as he watched Amber cross the room to the loo. Clearing his throat, he lifted his glass to his lips, taking a long sip.

"Fuck, H," he heard Jeffrey curse low.

"What?" he finally looked at him, setting down his glass.

"Don't do it, man. Please don't go there."

"Don't go where?"

"I see the way you look at her," said Jeff. "I'm not blind."

"I'm not blind either," argued Harry. "She's a pretty girl. But I'm not interested in her that way."

"You swear?"

"Yeah. I like her. I wanna be her friend. That's all."

Jeffrey pursed his lips, not sure if he fully believed Harry, but he also knew Harry never lied to him.

"Besides, I think she could use one," Harry added.

"What makes you say that?"

Harry shrugged. "She just...seems rather lonely."

Jeffrey snorted. "She's in a band with four boys. Four southern, American boys. You don't think that has something to do with it?"

"Perhaps."

"Maybe she needs another girl to be friends with, not you."

Harry glared at Jeffrey. "You don't think I'm a good friend?"

"H, you're the best friend there is, that's not my point. It's not your job to take care of her. Platonically or otherwise."

Harry sat back in his chair and sighed. "I just wanna get to know her, Jeffrey. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No," Jeff admitted. "Not at all. Just don't forget what could happen...if you step over the line."

"And what exactly could happen, Jeffrey?" Harry leaned forward, his eyes blazing.

Before Jeff could reply, Amber was making her way back to the table. Both men looked up and smiled.

"Well," said Jeff. "I suppose it's my turn."

Laying his cloth napkin on the table, Jeffrey excused himself and crossed the room.

"More champagne?" Harry asked, grabbing the bottle from the ice bucket.

"Mmm...maybe just a little," Amber smiled. "I think it might be going to my head. And my toes."

She let out another little giggle that she hadn't meant to. Harry chuckled though, as he poured the bubbly into her glass.

"Mind if I make a toast?" she asked. "Without Jeff."

"Of course."

"That came out wrong," Amber shook her head. "I like Jeff a lot, and I'm so grateful to him. I just meant...a toast to you...from me."

Harry's lips curled into a smile as he raised his glass. His gaze focused on the pink of her cheeks and the berry shade of her lips that she must have touched up in the restroom.

"Thank you..." she began hesitantly, "for your overwhelming kindness. You really do live up to your motto, and I couldn't be more grateful that you chose me and my band to join you on tour. I um...haven't had the best of luck in the past...even the more recent past...and I'm not exactly sure yet what you see in me. But whatever it is, I'm so happy the stars aligned this time. I only hope I can make you proud."

Harry's green eyes met her blue ones then, and for a moment he was speechless. Then taking a breath, he grinned and tapped his glass to hers.

"That was...more than a toast, love," he choked. "But thank you."

Amber groaned. "Too mushy? I'm so not good at this."

"No, no. It was lovely." Harry blinked slowly. "You're lovely."

He caught the blush in her cheeks deepening as she looked down and took a sip of champagne.

"By the way," he added, setting down his own glass, "I've been meaning to ask you. How did you come to know the lads in your band?"

Amber giggled again, quickly covering her mouth.

"Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No. Just...lads. That's so cute."

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling himself blush a tiny bit.

"Sorry," Amber covered her mouth again. "I'm not making fun. I'm just so used to hanging around frat boys all day, the British vernacular catches me off guard."

"Frat boys?" Harry laughed.

"Yeah, I mean, they might as well be. They act like it sometimes."

"So tell me about them," Harry folded his arms on the table. "I chatted a bit with each of them, just some pleasantries to get to know them. But I'd like to get your take."

"Well..." she paused and then giggled slightly. Harry liked her laugh. It was cute without being too dainty. "I'm not sure the word 'pleasantries' is even in their vocabulary. But they're good guys. I've known them all a while."

"Since school?"

"No. None of us went to the same school. Johnny's brother used to date my cousin years ago. That's how we met. He was actually in a different band then, a rock cover band. We used to go see them play, mostly at places I could go to since I wasn't twenty-one yet. But sometimes somebody knew the bar owner and got me in anyway. They would let me come up on stage and sing a song or two. When they disbanded, Johnny was looking for another group, and he already knew Carter who was a drummer, so they formed their own band."

"And they asked you to join?"

"Not at first," said Amber. "But I'd written a handful of songs, and I really wanted to find a band to play them. So I asked Johnny if he wouldn't mind trying them out with me. He thought they were great and convinced the rest of the band to give me a shot."

"And you said the stars didn't align," Harry commented.

"I'm giving you the short version," Amber smirked. "The interview version."

"Ah," Harry nodded. "Maybe one day you'll give me the long, 'confiding in a friend' version."

Amber's lips spread into a pretty smile. "Maybe. Are you saying you're my friend?"

"I hope so. I'd like to be."

Biting her lip, she tilted her head and pushed that stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. Harry's fingers itched to reach out and touch it.

"I'd like that, too," she said softly.

Jeffrey returned then, the waiter soon following, asking if they needed anything else. Politely declining, Jeff paid the bill and the three of them rose from the table.

In the lift, Harry leaned forward and whispered in Amber's ear. "Still nervous?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "But in a different way."

"How so?"

"I still have first night stage jitters," she said. "But I'm excited to have a friend."

Harry wasn't quite sure why, but he felt his hand reach the back of Amber's arm and slide down to her hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled when she squeezed back. When the elevator doors opened to her floor, however, he was disappointed when he felt her let go.

"Have a good night, Amber," announced Jeffrey.

"Thanks, you too," she said, stepping out into the hallway.

"Goodnight, Amber," called Harry. She turned and caught his dimpled smile as he held the door. "We should do this again."

She tilted her head and beamed at him. He suddenly felt warmth ooze throughout his entire body.

"I'd like that, too," she repeated. "Goodnight, Harry."

She watched the elevator doors close before she turned and made her way to her room, the apparent giddiness still on her face.

"Hey, where've you been?" she suddenly heard behind her as she slipped in her key. With a jolt, she turned and saw Carter standing with his arms crossed.

"Oh, hey. I went to dinner," she replied.

"With who?"

"Harry and Jeff."

"Yeah? Just you?"

Amber caught the disappointment in his tone, but it was masked by the perturbed expression on his face.

"It was kind of last minute," she explained. "I met them in the elevator and they invited me."

"You could have called me," remarked Carter.

"Sorry. I didn't think-"

"Nah, of course you didn't," Carter scoffed. As he took a step closer, Amber could smell the alcohol on his breath. But the irony in his next words surprised her. "You've been drinking."

"So have you," she declared.

"Yeah 'cause you didn't show."

Amber frowned. "Did we have plans?"

"No. Just...night before a gig...you're usually nervous. I thought you'd be knocking on my door."

Exhaling loudly, Amber turned back to her door, inserting the key once more.

"Goodnight, Carter," she called as she opened the door and stepped inside her room.

Two hands grabbed her waist within seconds and pushed her against the wall, knocking the breath out of her. She whimpered as Carter's body pressed against her back, pinning her so she couldn't escape.

"You were drinking with him, weren't you?" he growled in her ear.

"We...we had champagne," Amber explained shakily. "Jeff bought it to celebrate."

"You like him?"

"Jeff? He's our manager!"

"No, fucking Styles!" Carter yelled.

"Get off me, Carter!" Amber shouted, finding some of her strength. Sliding her hand down the wall, she managed to elbow him in the ribs. He stumbled back, his eyes glassy.

"You fucking like him," he muttered, his words slurred.

"He's my friend," she declared, getting her bearings.

"I thought I was your friend."

Amber glared at Carter. His words had a pout to them, but his body and gaze still showed nothing but pure rage.

"Get out," she said.

"Huh?"

Amber dared to take a step closer, pointing to the door. "Get the fuck out of my room, Carter! Now!"

"Goddamn slut," he mumbled as he exited the room, the door slamming behind him.

Falling face down on the bed, Amber began to cry, her entire body trembling. Carter had been persistent in wanting to get back to...whatever it was they'd had. But this was the first time she'd ever been physically afraid of him.

It had to be the alcohol, she told herself. It wasn't him. He wasn't himself when he drank. He was just jealous and the booze fueled his anger. Tomorrow he might not even remember what he'd done.

Tomorrow was the first show of the tour. It was a big day. She couldn't lose her drummer now.

tagging: @freedomfireflies, @daphnesutton

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

MASTERLIST

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 9 months ago

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Wreckless - Sand Castles and Tattoos

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

The castle is getting really big but Rhys has to go swimming and I go too... Emmy's right, it's hot.

He promises to not let me drown again which gets a look from Quincy but I tell him that Emmy grabbed me and saved me from the evil wave.

I think Uncle Quincy isn't really mean, he just worries a lot.

He takes his job very seriously and takes good care of Rhys and now he's worrying about me.

I guess it's good to give Emmy a break and another big person to talk to.

And Quincy is big... bigger than daddy.

Thicker and maybe an inch taller.

His hair is much shorter though, it's mostly shaved and what is left is even darker than mine.

He has lots of hair on his chest though... more than Emmy and me and Rhys all put together.

He has tan lines on his arms and I bet he works outside.

He's fit but not quite as ripped as Emmy is... it looks more natural... like he works hard.

He's sexy but not as much as Emmy and he has no beard.

Emmyy without a beard is wrong.

"You coming in, Finn?" Emmy asks.

I'm in water up to my knees but I'm wet higher because of the waves.

"I'm cool now."

"Nuh uh, grasshopper. Come on in. Do you want me to hold you?"

He's walking towards me and I meet him halfway.

"Please."

He makes me dunk and we go out a bit further before he hoists me up.

"Better?"

"Yes. I like Rhys' suit. Did you see it?"

"Hard to miss."

"No, it's small. Easy to miss."

"You have a good point, Finn. Why, want one?"

A speedo? Lime green? No.

"I'm too shy."

"Plus you'd need even more sunscreen."

I didn't think of that.

"You're right Emmy."

"I like your rainbow trunks a lot. They're very happy and you look really cute in them. They match your colorful ink."

"They do. I should get more when we come back. Maybe I'll get a seashell and stick it here," I tell him, pointing to my right bicep.

I don't have much room left but a pretty shell would be the perfect way to remember our trip.

"Maybe I'll get one too and we can match."

Really? That would be so cool.

"Rhys," I shout even though he's only ten feet away.

"We're gonna get a matching seashells."

"I said maybe, Finn," Emmy tells me.

"And you need to tell him a tattoo.... he doesn't know what we were talking about."

"He says maybe. A tattoo. A shell tattoo on my arm right here."

I twist to point and almost fall out of daddy's arms but luckily he's holding on tight.

"I want a shell too," Rhys tells his daddy.

"You can have any shell you want but only one from the beach or the store."

"I know. I'm too little for tattoos."

Quincy kisses him.

"That's right. We're heading in guys," he tells us, then he launches Rhys into the air really, really high.

It's like he jumped from his hands and Rhys does a dive.

"Wow."

Rhys comes up all the way near the beach.

"Emmy?"

"Yeah darling?"

"I'm trying to be little but it's hard... I keep messing up... it's like I have to think about it."

"Can you think of anything that would help?"

He's so sweet to help me.

"Maybe."

He sets me down but he's still holding my hand as we walk.

"And what would that be?"

"Um, last night was really fun and I loved it but maybe tonight I need uh, you know."

He stops us and turns me to face him.

"Are you saying I was too gentle with you last night?"

"No, I mean it was nice and lots of, no. That sounds mean. You like being nice to me and I like it but..."

"I'm sorry, I was teasing but if we're gonna get out of this water we have to stop talking about it for now, okay? You think about what you want tonight and when we get back to the house you can write me a note and tell me, okay?"

"Okay, if that's what you want. Oh, Rhys invited us to the slides and I wanna go."

"Even with the sore ass you're going to have tomorrow?" he whispers.

"Especially."

"You little rascal. Go finish your castle... we can stay another hour but then we're heading home. You've had a lot of sun today and we need some dinner. Does pizza sound good?"

I know what will happen at home so I don't mind.

"Okay. We're almost finished the castle and I really want pizza."

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suga4mycoffee · 2 years ago

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Coconuts Mafia Unforgotten Night Hate Watch - Episode 4

We, the Coconuts Mafia, gathered once again to witness the horror of this Unforgotten Night...

Come with us, as we process exactly what this episode had to offer.

We begin with... Awkward. Awkward staring, awkward hand-holding on two (2) fronts, and awkward posture. Not a great start, but not unexpected, at this point.

Once again, nobody gives a shit about the side-couple. Because they have just as little chemistry as the main couple. We follow that up with bad music, bad posture, and SHOES ON THE FUCKING BED, YOU ANIMAL.

We have predictable 'sleep-clutching', and Cherry giving women everywhere a bad fucking name. But before that? We had that 'kiss'. What the fuck was that?

FIRST OF ALL. If you're playing a dude who kisses other dudes, fucking commit to it. If you don't want to kiss a dude, maybe don't audition for the role in the first place? I haven't seen anything else these dudes have been in, so I don't know if it's a theme with either of them, or... I don't know.

Secondly, if you're gonna pretend to kiss someone... maybe don't swivel your head like a puppy hearing a high-pitched noise? Actually try to make it look realistic? Just a thought?

Hold on to your asses, it's the return of the Shitty Back Tattoo. I don't even have anything else to say, except yikes.

We have Weepy Sub's terrible fucking posture, someone needs to get that boy's shoulders away from his ears immediately. Then we have Baiboon Baboon, who is actually a bit of a cute smiley baby, but doesn't have much going on in the brain-pan. And Dramatic Staring, of course.

We have Doughy CEO's Chunky Cheap Ring, which is an embarrassment in itself. More awkward hugging/touching/what the fuck ever, which is only made more funny by the grumpy-ass expression on Weepy Sub's face. And the first Awkward Family Dinner, underscored by the underwhelming furniture and surroundings. The Theerapanyakul boys would heap scorn all over this house, and poor Tankhun would swoon in horror.

The 'hug', which was awkward but also mildly fucking creepy, and I could practically see Doughy wanting to hug-shuffle his ass out the damn door. Then we have some mildly aggressive, yet somehow still limp, handholding. And the two of them 'walk' hand-in-hand, if you can call that walking. What kind of direction are these actors being given? Asking genuinely, because this is bad.

We were treated to the preview for the next episode, which includes That Bitch Cherry further shaming women everywhere by acting like a little bitch, and... that's it?

Then @makemematryoshka cursed blessed us with a preview of more Cursed Snapchats, and that was honestly the best part of the evening.

I'm okay with those particular Cursed Images, because she's gonna be paying my funeral bills when they kill me.

Of course, we had a brief lamentation that we wouldn't have KP to cleanse our brains of this travesty tomorrow, which gave me Sad Feels.

Finally, I need to clarify the last few comments. Do I think UN is truly awful? YES. Do I understand why some people actually like this dumpster fire? NOT AT ALL. Would I still defend people's right to like it, regardless of the fact that I think it's an affront to all well written/directed/acted/etc shows everywhere? DAMN RIGHT I WOULD.

I'm not shitting on people who like Unforgotten Night. I like plenty of things that are 'bad', who cares, right? Like what you like. However, I do think that if people genuinely consider Unforgotten Night to be objectively good, they need to consume more content. No shade, just my opinion.

#i'm exhausted #this show makes me tired #hate watching #unforgotten night #unforgotten night ep.4 #coconuts mafia

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julyarchives · 4 years ago

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Among Flowers || (M)

If you had to pick a favorite place on earth, it would be your boyfriend’s flower shop. A new relationship can come with a few insecurities, but nothing that would be a problem for you and Hyunggu

→ Pairing: Hyunggu (Kino) x Female Reader

→ Genre: Smut and fluff.

→ Words: 1.7K

→ Contains: fresh established relationship; florist!Kino; sentimental smut.

→ A/n: Thank you for the sweet anon who left us this request, soft kino is everything <3 We had a great time writing this story, so we hope you guys like it!

If you had to pick a favorite place on earth, it would be your boyfriend’s flower shop. It was a small business, but for you, it was heaven on earth. Hyunggu always put so much passion into his work, always treated every client with attention and kindness, you could simply watch him work all day long and not get tired. You two have been dating for just a little longer than a couple of months and yet you already loved to visit him at work.

That’s why you were excited when he asked if you could help close up the shop - which was just an excuse to spend time together, and you both knew that very well.

As soon as you stepped in, the flowery smells that invaded your nostrils brought a smile to your face, which mirrored the pink-haired boy’s when he saw you coming in.

“Hey, there, beautiful” He stepped out of the counter and hugged your waist, kissing your cheek.

"Hello" you answered shyly, your hands immediately went to hold yourself against his shoulders, this type of action already very familiar.

What you still didn't get used to is eye contact. Kino looked at you always so dearly, deep into your eyes, and every time it happened butterflies danced around your stomach. He always makes you feel special, just by looking at you the way he does.

Closing up was a quick task, so not 10 minutes later you two were just hanging out around the flowers.

"These daisies are new" you pointed at the vases filled with beautiful white blooming flowers, and you were always curious for him to tell you more about his plants, which he does very passionately every time. "They weren't here last week"

'They are Shasta daisies, they are just in season now, so you'll see them around a lot." He explained

"That's good, they are so pretty" you watched the delicate petals closely, holding yourself back to not touch them.

"You think so?" He asked amusedly "they are my favorites."

You looked at him, who had the sweetest smile on his face.

"You have an amazing taste. You're the best florist I've ever met" you praised him, followed by a peck on his lips.

He stared at you again, putting a strand of hair behind your ears, always so tenderly.

"You're too good for me." He whispered and kissed you again.

You couldn't help but smile, the feeling of being cherished overwhelmed you.

The night was pleasant, Hyunggu ordered food and you two had a nice simple dinner in the back room, the best part was just being able to enjoy each other's company.

"So, I have something to tell you. " he said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"What is it?' You tilted your head in curiosity

"I've had this planned for myself for a long time, but I don't know how you'll feel about it."

You heard him patiently, waiting just to see what was his point, a little bit nervous yourself for not knowing when to expect.

"That's why I called you here, actually, to show it to you in person. I understand if that's not something you approve and it's a deal-breaker, but-"

"Baby" you interrupted "I highly doubt anything about you is a deal-breaker, so just quit making me curious, and please show me" you said jokingly.

"Okay," he chuckled "but please be honest about it, ok?"

You nodded. You watched him carefully pull up the sleeve of his button-up shirt, exposing a few freshly done tattoos, probably done earlier that day, or maybe the day before.

You could see daisies, just like the ones you pointed earlier, and the word "florist".

"Oh my God' your eyes widened, not expecting that at all "they are beautiful!'

Hyunggu exhale loudly

'Thank god, I was so scared you weren't gonna like it"

"Of course I like it, they are so perfect for you!" You giggled, finding his concern rather endearing. "The way you said sounded like you were going to tell me you're a drug dealer or something"

His loud laugh filled the room

"I just love your creativity" he said, embracing you again, his arms strongly wrapped around your waist

"I told you, nothing about you could be a deal-breaker, you're too good." You reassured him, gently cupping his face and caressing his cheek with your thumb

"I'm so lucky that I've found you" he leaned and pressed your foreheads together, just basking in your presence.

You tiptoed, pushing yourself closer to him, and planted a kiss on his lips, to which he hummed in satisfaction. He deepened the kiss with sure in his movements, pulling you closer against him and flushing your chests together.

without breaking the contact, Hyunggu backed you up until you reached the table where he makes the arrangements, where you let him help you sit on, gaining height advantage towards him. Your hands rummaged through his hair while he grabbed your thighs with want.

"Are you sure this is a good place for that?" You broke the kiss, chest already rising up and down fast from the heated action. "Don't wanna break anything in here"

"It's fine, baby" he trailed open mouth kisses down your neck, and you quickly forgot any worry.

Taking the chance, you took off his shirt, and his hands started exploring under yours, breaking the kiss just to take it off of you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, nibbling your earlobe, "so good to me"

"Hyunggu" his name rolled out of your tongue with a small whimper as his hands squeezed your breasts.

Your hands traveled down his back, cupping his ass, pulling him closer as you rolled your hips against his. Hyunggu skillfully unhooked your bra and was quick to remove it, now catching your nipple in between his lips, swirling his tongue around it.

The touches were now more urgent, both of you not having enough of each other, and you grabbed his semi-hard member under his jeans, palming it gently and teasingly. He hissed against your skin, gripping harder the other breast and showing you he was enjoying it.

You laid your back against the table, and Hyunggu pulled down both your pants and his' after fishing a condom out of his pocket.

"I just hope we don't break your table" you giggled, watching him pump himself before unrolling the rubber down his member

"It wouldn't be the worst" he opened a smirk full of mischief

Hyunggu climbed up the table and positioned himself on top of you, gasping when he finally entered you. He kissed you tenderly, letting you adjust to his size with patience. When you were finally ready you bucked your hips, and the sounds of pleasure that he let out against your lips was the hottest sound you have ever heard.

He finally started moving, bodies flushed together and his forehead rested against yours, and you hooked your legs around his hips, allowing him to go deeper inside you.

Watching him as he supported his body up, looking so sexy, biting his lips and moaning loud enough just for you was a show itself.

You reached your hand to his face, touching his soft cheeks, and he turned it to kiss your palm. He looked at you, the way only he did like he was worshipping you, like there was never going to be someone else he would look the same, and you knew that you could trust the sincerity you saw in it. You were in love with him and that was that.

It was then that Hyunggu angled his hips just right, hitting the perfect spot inside you, and the loud moan that escaped you was your tell. He smirked at the reactions he was getting from you. You touched your clit to help build up your pleasure and by now you were a whimpering mess.

"I'm so close, Hyunggu." You cried, clenching yourself around him

"Let go, baby. Let me see how good you look when I make you cum." His voice came out husky and seductive, pushing your right buttons.

You grabbed his nape, curling your fingers around his hair, and soon you were exploding with jolts of pleasure, noises now uncontrollably leaving you, all you could focus on was him and how good he made you feel. You clenched harder, bringing him to his edge as well, riding it off as he pleased.

He collapsed next to you and you two just spent time cuddling up to each other and kissing in silence. After a while, you two just pulled yourselves back together and cleaned around a little, getting rid of any traces of what happened, since it was still a shop and he had to open it in the morning, but in the end, you two just went back to cuddling like you were before, neither one of you rushing to leave.

"There are some flower petals on your hair" Hyunggu giggled.

You leaned your head on his chest and you realized that you could see his tattoo really close to your face as he picked your hair around for loose petals.

When he rested his arm on his stomach, you couldn't help but reach a finger and trace the flower design around.

"I can't believe you thought I'd break up with you because of a tattoo" you chuckled

"I just don't want to lose you ever." he said before kissing the top of your head.

You were surprised by his confession. The relationship was so new to you, but what you felt for him was so strong, and his words gave you the reassurance that he felt the same.

Being in silence, just the two of you, surrounded by the smell of earth, wood, and flowers - and his perfume - you've never been so sure about your feelings before like you are right now.

'Hyunggu, I…" you choked on the words, thinking again that it might be a bad idea and scare him off.

But he knew what you wanted to say. He knew because inside of him it was the same butterflies dancing around every time he looked at you. He caressed your hair to comfort you.

"Me too, Y/N." He whispered against your lips after softly kissing it.

Feeling grateful that you two could always understand each other beyond words, you were showered with comfort and happiness that you were lucky enough to have found love 2 months ago when you stepped into the most beautiful flower shop you've ever seen, not having a clue that it held for you the most precious person in your life.

#ksmutclub #kino #hyunggu #smut #pentagon #pentagon smut #kino x reader #hyunggu x reader #kino smut #hyunggu smut #pentagon fanfic #pentagon scenarios #pentagon imagines #pentagon kpop #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

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❛ FALLING IN LOVE WITH A BIKER ❜

with Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Request: hermaaaaaana, hello😊 literalmente que llevo veinte minutos pensando en que te puedo preguntar but i think i got it. so if it’s okay for you, i would like to request a headcanon with bishop in which he mets the reader for first time and it’s love at first sight or something like that, only if you are comfortable with it. Thank youuuuuuu💖

BY @aquamento

Word count: about 1.9k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Please… tell me that bike is yours”.

Bishop is stationed in front of the Reyes carnicería, with the rest of his crew at both sides. His eyes are glued on your anatomy, touring the random tattoos all around your arms and enraptured on the way your hips move covered by a pair of black bike shorts. His heart stops when he sees you hanging the meat packet by your teeth, to wear the leather gloves, before keeping your order on the bag of your Harley.

“Fuck”.

Wearing the helmet, while you sit on top of your motorcycle, you raise your eyes feeling strongly stalked. You can't help but chuckle wearing your sunglasses, before turning on the engine. Chewing a mint gun, you pass them away with a funny smirk installed on your face. Probably, they have never seen a girl like you, and you're not actually surprised after seeing how women are in Santo Padre. You have three kinds: uptight, too old or too used. And you look like candy at a school gate. Mayans are the children.

He begs and prays to run into you, riding the city every night at the same hour, around Felipe's carnicería.

He doesn't lose hope for almost one month. But after this much time, he starts to be desperate. Bishop could have memorized your plate, but he was too busy admiring your mere existence.

Taza tried to help him, by using the database statewide using the model of your bike. But there were too many results, with different names of men and women, and none based on Santo Padre.

He has suddenly fallen in love and he doesn't even know your name.

Until he met you again.

Sipping by the straw of your cup of coffee, you're checking some messages of your father. You have forgotten your laptop in Santa Madre and you need it for work, so you're trying to convince him to bring it to your new town.

“(Y/N)”.

Frowning confused by the male hoarse voice, you raise your eyes from the screen, finding a middle-age man with a dense moustache over his smile.

“Do I know you?”

“I'm Obispo. Obispo Losa, but you can call me Bishop”. He offers you a hand, narrowing it with your left one in an awkward move that makes the two of you laugh. “Southpaw?”

“Got a coffee in my right”. You reply shaking your hand.

“I stopped you 'cause I like your bike”.

“Ain't selling”.

“I wasn't trying to buy it, it's just a compliment”. He says wearing his gloves, bowing down his head for a second. “I run the scrapyard, in case you need a rechange, or something”.

“It's good to know it”.

You watch him leaving you there, puckering your lips while you turn slightly, before continuing with your walk.

He was nervous as fuck trying to you, but it looks like that his trap can works on you.

And actually, it does. He has woken up an interest in you. Not because of his kutte, but because the way he had of licking his incisors with the tip of his tongue when you laughed.

These small details not everyone pays attention to.

And you take the bait. His bait.

You didn't have any excuse to visit the scrapyard, so with all the pain squeezing your heart, you hammer a nail in the back tire of your bike. Almost dragging it for one mile, you reach the place. That's going to cost you some bucks, but it's worth it. Anchoring the kickstand close to the office, you follow the rhythmic latin music to flood into a crowded yard. Sounds like a party. Looks like a party. With the hands kept in the back pockets of your shorts, you lean over your tiptoes trying to find the owner.

“Need help, mami?” A mexican accent makes you turn to your left.

“Yeah, 'am looking for… Obispo?” You say wrinkling your nose at the man with long black hair and a cigar on his lips, having a smoke.

“Yo! Prez!” Turning away, the man yells another name you can't understand.

Your orbs find the darkest ones, but what you see instead of what you were expecting provokes you some bitter shivers. On his lap there's an exuberant woman, wearing nothing but a short skirt and a white lace bra, and one of his hands caressing her thigh. Who the fuck is that guy and who the fuck does he think you are? Regretting your decision of coming, you turn over your steps to not continue looking at him, crossing your arms over your chest almost kicking the dust with the tip of your sneakers.

“You came”. He sounds excited, but somewhat nervous.

“Yeah, and now I would prefer to haven't done it”, you think to yourself.

“Yeah, I just… had a problem with a wheel and a nail”. You reply, shrugging your shoulders. “But that guy can attend me, you don't have to. I mean, you were occupied”.

“Is she jealous?”, he thinks to himself.

“I have time for you, querida”.

Wrong words. You're not going to fall again, not after what you have seen.

“I only need a wheel. I will come back tomorrow evening”.

“Don't you want a beer?” He sounds disappointed and a little annoyed, raising a hand over his shoulder to point at the party happening behind him.

“No, thanks”.

Watching you go is painful. A kind of sorrow that he never thought that he could feel.

After telling his brothers what happened, they counsel him to wait till the next day.

But you don't go to the scrapyard. You don't want to see him, even if you know that you have to pick up your bike.

Finally, you come back two days later.

Knocking the metallic door, you walk inside the office. The man who attended you the first time and another with strange hands receive you.

“I came for the black and red Harley”.

“Yeah, mami, give me a second”.

The men disappear from the place, while you take a seat on an old leather couch, crossing one leg above the other; moving it impatiently. But again, you have to take off your eyes from the screen of your phone, hearing his voice calling you.

“The bike is ready”. Obispo says with a fleeting smile appearing on his face.

“Good. How much do I own you?” You ask getting up, trying to not look at him too much and focusing on the bill he offers you.

“Nothing, it's on me”.

“Thanks, but I wanna pay”.

“Well, ain't gonna charge you”. He sentences with a chuckle.

Puckering your lips with a forced smile, you pass him away to step out from the office, looking for your bike.

“Hey, wait”.

“What?”

“She's just a friend”.

You pretend that you don't know what he's talking about, making him snort rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“The girl. In the party. She's just a friend”.

“Bueno, congrats”. You just reply, about to walk away again.

“I was wondering if you would like to hang out one day”. These words stop your legs. “Have some beers, a ride, maybe a dinner. Or a lunch. Whatever”.

He's trying. He's trying to fix up what he fucked up. And you are not sure about what response you can give him back. You want to say yes, but, for what? To end like his friend? Sitting on his lap almost naked, surrounded by drunk bikers?

“Sorry, I ain't your type. Don't lose your time”.

You can't believe what you just said, sounding so rude and proud. Bishop frowns.

“My type? And which is my type?” Now, you have offended him, watching him intertwining his hands under his abdomen. Expecting.

“Cheap makeup to leave marks. Lingerie and short skirts. Laughter when something isn't funny. Work hard to look like a man's trophy… Definitely, I'm not your type. I mean, you must be however you want to be, but… sorry, that's not my game”.

“That isn't my game either”. He replies tilting his neck to the left side for some seconds. “I prefer the ones who call me out when I'm being a pendejo”.

“Mommy issues?” Making fun of him, you raise both eyebrows. He chuckles shaking his head. “Thanks for the wheel”.

You don't need no man, but could God please send to you a normal one?

Bishop feels fucked than ever. Annoyed. Bothered.

He tries to figure out how to make it up to you, but he has never had to do something like that.

And his brothers can't help him either.

So he plays one of his best cards.

Be sincere.

The next time he sees you walking around, he makes to stop the whole crew behind him. Jumping off from his bike, he crosses the road with a slow sprint to not being run over. Rolling your eyes, you don't stop your path. Not even when he reaches you.

“Can you listen to me for a second?”

Placing himself in front of you, the man takes off his sunglasses.

“I'm hurry”.

“One sec—”.

“One”. You just say, counting it about to walk away. A hand around your left wrists holds you.

“Please”.

Hearing him beg to you wasn't on your to-do list for today. Facing him with no gesture on you lets him know that you are granting him a second.

“You're gonna think I'm crazy because I have never fell in love at first sight, but when I saw you the first time I fucking swear that you stole my heart, querida. I have been looking for you for a month. Every night. Same hour. Trying to catch the opportunity of talking to you. And maybe, just maybe, I tried to find you by the model of your bike”. You can't lie. You weren't expecting that confession. “I really felt like shit when I saw you in the scrap. The way your face changed when you saw that girl sat on me. And I'm really sorry”.

You don't have a word to reply. Confused. Overwhelmed by a lot of sensations running through your body.

“I ain't the kind of man who… you know what I'm trying to say. And I didn't mean to offend you”.

He keeps silent, waiting for you to say something.

“This has been more than one second”. You try to joke, a little nervous. And you make him laugh again.

“Listen, I know a place with the best meat in the whole California, and a lot of different sauces to dip in. It's forty minutes away, but we can have a ride together”.

“Sounds good, but… I'm on my way to work”.

“We can go whenever you want”.

Bishop isn't going to give up, and you know it.

“You said you're in a hurry, let me take you to your job and think about it on this ride”.

You finally accept, knowing that he's not going to accept a decline as an answer.

And when he finds out that you work in the hospital, he's totally amazed.

And he earns your number after being so sincere with you.

“Maybe, just maybe, I put the nail on purpose”. You confess then, walking backwards to the entrance, facing him with a smile on your face.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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midnxghtsunwrites · 4 years ago

Text

LAID OFF

PAIRING —

Andy Barber x Black Reader

SUMMARY —

You get fired from your workplace of eleven years and Andy tries to comfort you.

WARNINGS —

Just good ol' fluff and angst, ignorant people doing ignorant things — yakwtfgo

It was midday when Andy received a text from you saying that you were on your way home from work. As far as he knows, your workday definitely does not end at twelve pm. Immediately, he called you and the conversation went as vague as he expected.

"Why are you going home, sweetheart? You okay?" He questions. You can't see him but you can tell that he has those crinkles in between his eyebrows that usually come with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Do we have anything on our grocery list? I'm gonna stop by Walmart on the way home." He doesn't have a chance to answer before you cut him off, "Never mind, I'll just go to the house and grab it."

"Y/N —"

You hung up.

A day of shopping went by with you trying to take your mind off of what happened just hours before. Your boss of eleven years called you into his office, handed you a termination packet, a crappy explanation, and a company pen.

A pen.

"It has your name on it," He'd quipped.

As you now stand in your bathroom, twisting your hair into bantu knots, you wish you would've stabbed that motherfucker in the eye with that pen. You're absolutely taken aback by his audacity — it followed you throughout the day.

Even when your son came home from school and greeted you. You were in the kitchen at that point, aggressively stirring up some chicken soup — your comfort food. He gave you the weirdest look and retreated to his room.

During dinner (without Andy) you listened intently as your son recounted his day, trying to get your mind off of how much time you'd wasted in that company.

Now, you can hear the security system speak that the front door is open. Andy's home.

You try not to think about the packet you left on the bed — he has to know somehow and you don't want to say it out loud. Part of you feels he'll be disappointed in you.

When he enters the bathroom, the packet in hand and a thoughtful look on his face, you try not to let it faze you and get back to spraying leave in conditioner in your hair.

You can feel his stare burning into the side of your face.

You blink and meet his eye in the mirror, "I don't wanna talk about it."

"We have to talk about it." His voice is calmer than you thought it would be.

"No, Andy, we don't have to do anything — I, on the other hand, have to finish these bantu knots that I started way too late in the day. Should've done this tomorrow. Not like I have anything else to do —"

Andy scoffs, "Y/N, stop doing your hair for a minute and talk to me."

"What?" You question, beyond irritated, "What is there to possibly talk about? Huh? I wasn't good enough at my job and I lost it. There's not much else to it, Andy."

"Y/N —"

"No." You deadpan, slamming the bottle down on the granite counter top and turning to face your husband, "I gave eleven years of my life to that place. Just to get a letter of termination and a pen. A stupid pen? Is that what my life has come to? They could've had the decency to send me to fricking Jamaica or some shit — they're good for it."

Andy leans back against the wall and watches you as you rant.

"If I'm that replaceable, why the fuck didn't they just fire me ten years ago when they saw what a crap job I was doing?" You know you're a great employee but the rage is pouring off you in waves, "I was sacrificing my weekends with family to go to that bum place — for terrible fucking pay, mind you — and this is what they do? This is how they pay me back for wasting a decade of my life? I'm just so —" A frustrated groan finishes your statement.

"And I know you're disappointed in me. You're disappointed in the fact that I didn't work hard enough. I didn't fight hard enough. Well, fuck that. I'm fucking over it."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I'm over it." You reiterate.

Your husband knows you too well to think that you're over it. He counts down from five in his head.

Five..

Four..

Three..

Two..

One..

"Is it because I'm black?" You ask, suddenly.

Right on cue. Andy whistles lowly, proud of himself.

"Fucking hell," You scoff as if just realizing something, "I knew there was some shady shit when they took us to a damn plantation for a mixer and only asked me to bring food."

Your husband's head shoots up in surprise, "Wait, they did that? Why didn't you tell me?"

You shake your head, "I wasn't thinking too much of it. Plus, it was like six years ago — I was naive as hell."

Andy furrows his brows in thought, "What was the reason they gave for firing you?"

"My disruptive behavior. Apparently, they don't like when someone accidentally drops their stapler." Saying it out loud pissed you off even more.

"Those assholes." Andy comes to your defense, biting his bottom lip, irritated. Finally, he nods, "Okay. We'll sue for wrongful termination. I'll call someone in the morning so we can get this sorted out."

You pause for a moment, glad your husband is there to fight by you and defend you. A part of you is tempted to do just that — get a couple thousand from that hating ass job. But no, you don't even want to think about them anymore.

Begrudgingly, you shake your head, "Nah, baby, I just wanna wash my hands of them. I'll send out my resume in the morning and I'll probably take a couple more days to mope, but I don't wanna think about them anymore. Just the fact that I'm jobless."

"There's my girl," Andy jokes as he wraps his arms around you. Your hair is haphazard on your head seeing as you haven't finished the knots yet, but Andy doesn't care. He's obsessed with you either way. "And I'm not disappointed in you, Y/N. You're the best at what you do. Them letting you go is their loss and they'll definitely realize what they're missing out on when you're out there doing your own shit. We have enough in our savings to spare — you can start that restaurant you've been dreaming about."

"And you'll be my greeter when you're not putting criminals in jail?" You ask, sweetly, a bright smile growing on your face.

Andy pecks your glossed lips, "Wouldn't have it any other way." He taps your ass, "Now, how about I help you finish your hair, we can drink some hot cocoa, I can give you a massage. Plus, I can take tomorrow off, we can pull Y/S/N out of school and we can go on a hike to clear your mind."

You almost cry at how much Andy is willing to do for you.

"Ugh, how did I get so lucky?" You rest your hand on his chest, right where your name is tattooed and pull him down to kiss you.

He pulls away, slightly, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up with such joy and admiration, "I ask myself that everyday."

general taglist : @gwenspacy @saccreigns @complacentviawattpad @rosenoirwrites @random-ficreader23 @kyla-queen @neealicious @islandgyalwrites

let me know if you'd like to join any of my taglists! feel free to like, reblog, and comment! also, my asks are open — and im taking requests!

#andy barber imagine #andy barber x black reader #andy barber x y/n #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #defending jacob imagine

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bangtanreadingcorner · 4 years ago

Text

despite it all • park jimin

chapter one — bandaid

plot — you never could ignore someone who needs help. not even a gang member.

words — 3.1K

You were walking home from a night out with friends, the pleasant buzz of alcohol in your veins making you feel giddy and floaty as you hummed softly. The street was quiet but in the distance you could hear people laughing, sirens of an ambulance, a barking dog and it gave you a sense of security and familiarity.

What was most definitely not familiar was the man rounding a corner, and almost slamming into you. You yelp, taking a quick step backwards, heart stopping before it skyrockets. You have apparently underestimated the amount of alcohol you've had to drink because that quick step causes you to loose your balance, and unable to regain it, you fall to the ground, landing ass first.

You contemplate just sitting there until the morning but when the man you almost bumped into lets out a pained groan, your eyes flicker up to him. Horror fills you as you take in his blood stained appearance. There is blood on his shirt, his pants, his face. His one hand was holding his side and his knuckles are bloody.

You scramble to your feet, suddenly much more sober than you were two seconds ago, "Oh my God, are you okay? Ah, nevermind, stupid question. You're covered in blood, you couldn't possibly be okay. Is there someone I can call for you? Ohhh, I know, I can call an ambulance."

A hand grasps around the wrist of the hand going for the phone on the inside pocket of your jacket, fingers strong and grip tight. His voice is low and husky when he speaks, "No. No ambulance."

Trying to press down the mounting panic in your chest, you swallow thickly. "Dude, not to be stating the obvious, but you are covered in blood."

"Most of it's not even mine." He says around a cough, eyes drooping, bracing himself against the wall.

Your eyes widen when you process his words and you twist your wrist in his grip, wanting to pull away and run. You clear your throat, running your eyes over him. "Well you look like you're going to be fine, so I'll just go."

He nods tiredly, letting go of your wrist, a strand of his blonde dyed hair falling into half closed, exhausted eyes, his breathing hard, and your heart twists. You want to help him and you're about to offer, when you remember his words from just seconds ago.

Most of it's not even mine.

Which means that he probably hurt whoever's blood is on him. Which means that this is a dangerous person, the kind of person you run from, not help. Judging from the tattoo in his neck, he's in a gang. You don't know what exactly everything about the different gang tattoos and what every stripe or cross means but everyone knows that anyone with a serpent tattoo is part of the most dangerous gang in the province. Maybe even the country.

You walk past him, intent on going home and forgetting about this incident. Your try putting it out of your head as you cross streets and your small apartment comes closer, but it doesn't work. At the next street you have to cross, you look back, and see the man still bracing himself against the wall as he walks slowly. He stops, resting with his back against the wall.

You bite your lip, your heart at war with your head, torn between doing the right thing and the safe thing. You look at the man again – gang member or no, he's still a person who needs help – and your heart wins the fight.

"Fuck it." You mutter to yourself before taking of in a light jog, back to the injured man. His body tenses up, like he's preparing for a fight, and his eyes snap open when he hears you approaching, hard and cold and it terrifies you a little. It's almost enough to make you turn around again. But then recognition flashes in his eyes and his tensed shoulders relaxes. You look at him silently for a moment and then you blurt out, "Where are you hurt?"

"None of your fucking business." He breathes, moving his eyes from you to the night sky.

"Rude." You clack your tongue at him, risking a step closer. "Are you bleeding anywhere? Or is all of this blood the other guy's?"

He looked at you again, something feral and definitely dangerous glinting in his eyes. "Who says there was just one?"

Instead of fear, you can feel your annoyance rising, "Can you answer the question and stop deflecting?"

His brows furrowed, clearly confused. "What are you doing here? Weren't you on your way home or something?"

Fully annoyed now, you glare at him. "I'm trying helping you, you ungrateful ass."

Amusement flickers in his eyes, "Well you're not doing a very good job of it."

"Well, you're not making it very easy." You retort, deciding to just take matters into your own hands. You step close to him before taking his arm and bringing it around your shoulders, noticing that he winces when you lift his arm. "Let's go." You tell him, tugging gently until he starts walking in the direction he came from and where you're going.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He asks. You glance up at him, seeing a smirk on his lips.

"I have some idea." You say, giving a pointed look to the tattoo in his neck.

"So, you know I'm in a gang." He concludes. "And that I most likely got my injuries from doing something illegal."

"Yes." You nod. "And speaking of injuries, are you bleeding?"

"Not that I know of." He answers. He wobbles a bit and you stop, waiting until he regains his footing before continuing. "And you don't care?" He asks curiously.

"Of course I care and in normal circumstances I'd probably call the police, but you're hurt and you need help, not the police. So, I'm going to help you."

"What if I'm an assassin with a thing for cutting woman into pieces?" He sounds amused, like this whole situation is a source of entertainment for him.

"Wouldn't that be a way to go." You deadpan.

He snickers and then goes quiet for a while before asking, "Are you going to call the cops?"

"Are you going to hurt me?" You ask instead of answering.

"No." He sounds like he means it but that doesn't really reassure you. "Not unless you give me a reason too." And that actually does make you feel a little better.

"Well, there you go then." You tell him.

"I should just take your word for it?" You can feel him looking at you, but you ignore his gaze, focusing on watching your step. He wasn't resting all of his weight on you, you could tell, but the added weight still slowed you down and caused strain on your muscles but you ignore it, intent on helping him.

"Considering the fact that I'm taking a stranger who is a literal gang member and a potential killer into my home, you really don't have any ground for that argument." You inform him matter-of-factly. You rewind your words and lament that maybe your are as crazy as your cousin accuses you of being.

"Your home?" He whistles, but starts coughing halfway through. "Buy a guy dinner first."

"Hah!" You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks burn from his teasing. "I'm helping you. If anyone is going to be buying dinner, it's going to be you."

"I'm Jimin, by the way. If you're going to help me, the least I could do is tell you my name." He says, and when you look at him, he looks sincere and a little shy.

"Y/N." You tell him.

You reach your apartment without any incidents or without running into anyone – a man covered in blood would have raised questions – and you navigate it in the dark, leading him to your couch before going back to the door and locking it and flipping on the lights. You turn back to him, watching as he looks around your place. You couldn't help but feel a little self conscious. "I know it's no palace, but it's mine and you're only gonna be here for one night. Unless you plan on leaving directly after I help you."

"I like it, it feels comfortable. Like a home." Jimin tells you, face softer than its been since the moment you met him. You stare a little, but then you notice the blood on his face again and you look away.

"You should go and take a shower. I'll give you the biggest clothes I'll have, so don't worry about that. I'll wash yours and put it in the dryer, so it will be clean for when you leave. I'm pretty sure if you walk down the street with blood stained clothes in broad daylight, someone is bound to call the police." You are rambling and you're perfectly aware of it, but you're nervous.

He nods and gets to his feet, wincing. "Which way is the bathroom?"

You point, "Down the hall to your left. Do you need help?"

Jimin gives you a slight smile, "I'll manage."

You wait until you hear the shower running before you go to your room, hunting down your biggest hoodie and pair of sweatpants. You knock on the bathroom door, letting Jimin know you're leaving the clothes outside the bathroom door.

You wait on the couch for Jimin to finish, wondering what your mother would say if she could see you now.

You bite down a smile when Jimin comes out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair. The sweatpants are obviously too small, ending high above his ankles, the fabric stretching over his thighs – and if you spend an extra second looking at those muscular thighs then it was no one's business. The hoodie seemed to fit just right, but he didn't zip it up. Your eyes is glued to his chest, not because it was eye-catching – oh and it was eye-catching alright, a defined six pack was waving at you almost mockingly – but because of the bruises.

"Like what you see?" Jimin's teasing voice brings you out of your staring stupor.

"I-" You cut yourself off, suddenly choked up by emotion.

His eyes widened and he walks as quickly as he can to you. "Hey, no, no, it looks worse than it is. You should see the other guys."

"That doesn't really make me feel better, but thanks for trying." You tell him, blinking hard, and getting up from the couch. "I'm going to get my first aid box."

While in the bathroom, you toss Jimin's bloody clothes into your cleaning bucket, making a mental to wash it as soon as you're done helping him.

You walk to where he's sitting on your couch, going down on you knees so you could face him. You notice the gun laying next to him and your heart almost jumps out of your chest. You give him an unimpressed stare, "Seriously?"

He gives you a smug smirk, "It's for protection."

"From what? My bandaids?" You ask sarcastically.

"Gang member, remember?" Jimin says, like you need the reminder, and you pull a face at him.

You ignore his chuckle to inspect his face, and the first thing you notice is how attractive he is. (But that doesn't matter because you're only helping him and then he's leaving.) The second thing you notice is that there is just a few scratch marks on his face, nothing too serious. You clean it up with some antiseptic, a little impressed that he doesn't even wince.

"Okay, I need to take a look at your chest now, make sure none of your ribs are broken, so will you sit a little forward?" You ask him and Jimin does as he's asked.

"You don't seem too bothered by the presence of a gun." Jimin comments, obviously curious as you run your hands over his ribs (he tenses for the first five seconds then relaxes), pressing against it, feeling carefully.

You shrug, "My dad was a cop, and while he didn't parade his around, I got used to them nonetheless."

"Past tense." Jimin observes, eyes on your face. You can feel his gaze and it causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Is he dead or retired?"

Your hands falter for a moment at the blunt question. You swallow thickly, continuing your path over his ribs. "He died in the line of duty."

"What happened?" He asks.

You look him in the eye, "He got caught in the crossfire of a gang war."

"Oh." Jimin sounds like someone knocked the breath from him. Silence falls around you and it lasts until you finish your exam of Jimin's chest before he says, "I'm sorry."

You look up, "Are you really?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" He frowns at you.

"Don't say something you don't mean. I'd prefer it if you said nothing at all." You eye the bruises on his chest, wondering how people can do that to each other. "There doesn't seem to be anything broken but you definitely cracked a few of them and it's gonna hurt like a bitch, come the morning."

"How do you know all of this?" He questions.

"I'm a paramedic." You answer, reaching for his left hand, remembering that his knuckles was bloodied before the shower.

"That explains a lot." He grabs your wrist with the hand you're not holding, holding onto it almost gently. "Look, about what you said just now, you're helping me despite the fact that it could have been one of my people that killed your dad." He squeezes your wrist, looking into your eyes imploringly. "I mean it."

You shrug, tilting your head. "Yeah, well, my mom always said I can't hold a grudge to save my life."

When you're done cleaning up and bandaging his hands, you pick up the bottle of pills you brought with you. You shake out a few pills before standing to go and fetch him a glass of water. You held out the water and the pills onto him, "Here. You've got to be in a world of hurt right now."

"What is that?" He asks, eyeing the white tablets laying on your hand.

You sigh, "Just some paracetamol. It's all I have. Just because I'm a paramedic doesn't mean I keep hospital grade medicine stocked in my home."

"Four of them?" Jimin's eyebrows went up. "Are you trying to overdose me?"

You squint at him, "Don't be such a baby. I take three at a time for my headaches and I am willing to bet my right kidney that you're hurting worse than my headaches usually are."

You pack up your first aid box and when you put it away, you bring the bucket with Jimin's bloodied clothing. You filled it halfway with water and then walked to the kitchen. You empty half your salt supply into the water before using your hands to rinse the clothing.

"Why are you washing my clothes with salt?" Jimin's voice comes from behind you.

You startle for a second before taking a deep breath and answering him, "I'm not washing it, I'm rinsing it with cold water and salt, to get the blood out of your clothes."

"Seriously? That works?" Jimin asks, surprise clear in his voice.

"Yep."

"I could have saved so much money that I wasted on new clothes each time I had a bloodstain on something, if I had known that." He whines and you look over your shoulder, finding yourself strangely endeared when you see the pout his lips is pulled into.

"I'd rather not know." You snort, shaking your hands off and heading to the sink to wash them. You dry your hands, leaning against your counter as you let the clothes soak for a bit.

"You haven't asked." Jimin says out of nowhere. He was leaning against your fridge, looking exhausted, but his eyes watched you intently.

You know what he was talking about. The bruises, and where he got them, the other guys he mentioned. He had been expecting you to ask, and you never did. You cross your arms over your chest. "It's none of my business."

"It's not." He agrees.

"See." You give him a slight smile.

"Still. Most people would ask." He says, tilting his head as he looked you up and down.

"Yeah, well, I figure I'm better of going down Plausible Deniability avenue and Better Of Not Knowing street in this case."

That gets a genuine laugh out of him, his eyes scrunching and a breathtaking smile on his lips. It's bright and cheerful and your stomach swoops. You are unable to not smile back at him.

After rinsing his clothes and putting it in the washing machine, you go back to the living room, only to find Jimin fast asleep on your couch. Something inside of you goes very soft as you watch him sleep. He looks years younger, completely relaxed.

You take the step ladder from your kitchen and tiptoe back to your room, getting the extra duvet from the top of your closet. You grab one of the four pillows on your bed and you head back to the living room. Gently, you lift Jimin's head and slip the pillow underneath it, half afraid he would wake up. When he doesn't, you breathed a quiet sigh of relief and throw the blanket over him. As you tuck him in, you spot the handle of his gun, pressed into the back of the couch.

You hope the safety is on.

***

When you wake up the next morning, Jimin is gone.

Placed on top of the pillow and folded duvet stacked on your couch, is a piece of paper with writing on.

Y/N,

I put your clothes in the washing machine after getting dressed, so you just have to dry it. I figured it was the least I could do after all the trouble I gave you.

I mean what I said last night, I really am sorry about your dad.

If you ever need my help, doesn't matter if it's something dumb like a lift somewhere or something a little more serious like taking someone out for you, you can find me at the bar on 17th Street. Chances are, I'll be there. If not, ask for Taehyung and tell him Jimin sent you.

Thank you for everything.

- Jimin -

P.S. I hope I see you again someday.

***

chapter 2

A/N: this is going to be a multi-chapter/part story. I don't know how many yet, just that there will be more!! Also, I am not a medical professional, so just go with the medical inconsistencies. I promise they won't be too far fetched.

#bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bts fic #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin imagine #park jimin x oc #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #jimin #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x you

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honeyimthedevil · 4 years ago

Text

Tattoo artist AU

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

Word count: 2,2K

I wrote this for a friend's birthday and they let me post it

***

Peter cleaned the exes ink from the fresh tattoo and wrapped it. He explained to the person again what he can and can’t do and then walked him out of the salon. He changed the needle, cleaned the stool and sat down, waiting for his next client.

A sleek car pulled up in front of the salon. One very good-looking man got out of the Audi and looked at the sign on top of the shop. He opened the door, making the bell over in jingle.

Peter turned around at the sound of the bell and smiled.

"Welcome to Peter's tattoo studio! I'm Peter. How can I help you?" He walked up to the person, who turned around to face him.

"Hello darling," the man smiled back at him, "I believe I have an appointment to get my first tattoo"

Peter's mouth watered at the sign of the man in front of him. The male looked strangely familiar and very very handsome.

Peter reached for his notebook and looked over the names.

"You're Tony Stark?"

"The one and only" the man answered.

"Come with me, sir"

"Please, call me Tony"

"Okay Tony. You can sit here," Peter pointed to the stool, "Do you know what kind of tattoo you want? And where you want it?"

"Yes, I know what I want. But before I tell you, your tattoos look phenomenal!" He complimented, looking over Peter's arms.

"Thank you, Tony. Will you tell me what I'm gonna be doing, please?"

"Yes. Yes of course. I want it on my side. Here's a picture" Tony got a phone out of his pocket and scrolled a little before turning it to Peter. The boy took the phone in his hands and observed the picture. It was a single red rose with the words 'love is love' in cursive along the staple.

"Okay," Peter gave him back the phone, "Can you send me the picture. You can get comfortable. You can just lift your shirt or take it of, whatever you're comfortable with"

Tony took of his shirt, revealing his scared chest, and threw it on the chair next to the bed. He was quick with sending the picture, then he lied down on the side that wasn't getting tattooed.

"Take your time, Pete" he said, looking around the room. The boy took the colors he needed and put them, along with the gun on the rollable table. He went to the computer and clicked a few buttons. The printer at the corner of the table buzzed and a single sheet of paper appeared.

"How old are you?" Tony asked, looking over Peter.

"I'm gonna tell you only if you tell me first" the boy said, taking the sheet, a spray bottle and cotton balls and putting them on next to the gun, on the small table.

"I'm 45. Now you" Tony answered.

"You don't look 45. I thought you were 35 at max. I'm 19, turning 20 in a few months"

"You're young. I, to be honest, don't remember that part of my life really well"

"Why?" Peter asked, turning to Tony, "oh, sorry. That's a personal question. You don't have to tell me"

"It's okay. I was drunk most of the time, and high, and I don't mean I was tipsy kind of drunk. I was completely wasted. I stopped drinking anything other than beer when I was 30"

"Oh. I haven't tried anything other than beer. I'm still underage" Peter said.

Tony nodded, falling silent. Peter rolled his chair to the bed and put on gloves. He opened the bottle and poured some of the liquid on the cotton.

"Do you want it here?" Peter pointed around the middle of Tony's side.

"Yes"

Peter ran the cotton over Tony's skin and then threw it in the bin. He placed the print on the disinfected stop and pressed it for a few seconds, then put it aside.

"It's not supposed to hurt much. Tell me if it does" he explained, preparing the gun.

"Okay, Pete"

The boy turned it on and the room was filled with the buzzing sound. Peter made the first line and wiped the exes ink.

"How did that feel?" He asked.

"It didn't hurt at all. You can continue"

Peter nodded and continued with the stem.

"Tony, can I ask you something?" The boy said, breaking the silence.

"Of course"

"You seem very familiar, have we met before?" He wiped away the ink again.

"Do you buy New York Times' magazines?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with it?"

"I was on the cover a few months ago"

"You were?" Peter asked, amused.

"Yeah, because I confirmed I was gay. It's been a big scandal over the years, my sexuality"

Peter got lost in his thoughts for a second.

"Wait, you're Tony Stark, the CEO of stark industries?"

"The company is mine. I'm not CEO, though"

"You're a millionaire!" Peter exclaimed.

"A billionaire, actually. Don't treat me differently because of my money. I've had enough of that"

"I won't" Peter nodded.

"Can I- can I tell you a secret?" The boy asked.

"Um, yeah, if you want to"

"I'm bi. Nobody knows, well, except you"

"Still in the closet, I see. I completely accept you. Anything else you want to get of your chest?" Tony asked.

"I'm still virgin. Don't laugh at me please. I just haven't found the right person yet"

"I'm not gonna laugh at you Pete. It rare to see that these days. Let's be real, I'm the one in the wrong here, losing my virginity at 14" the man explained.

"You were 14?"

"Yep, and it was with a prostitute. I'm not proud of it" Tony wiggled.

"Don't move" Peter gripped Tony with more force

"Sorry"

An hour later Tony's tattoo was ready. Peter wrapped it and let the man sit on the bed.

"If I, hypothetically, asked you out what would you say?" Tony suddenly blurted out.

"Hypothetically, I'll say yes" Peter answered.

"When do you finish work? I'm gonna get you"

"You're my last client for today"

"Oh, then I'll wait for you to close and then imma take you for a coffee maybe?"

"Yeah, coffee sounds good" Peter smiled at him.

Peter started tidying up the studio, while Tony sat on the stool asking if he can help with anything and the boy saying no every time. Thirty minutes more later they were walking out of the shop.

"Is this your car?" Peter asked, pointing at the flashy yellow Audi parked in front of the studio.

"Yep, my favorite" Tony unlocked said car and opened the passenger door for Peter. The boy sat in and the man closed the door, going to his seat. He breathed in the smell of the car and started the engine, driving off.

"Which coffee shop do you prefer?" Tony asked.

"I make my own coffee at home. You choose, I don't know which is good"

"I make my own coffee as well. Do you wanna come to mine?" He proposed.

"Well, if you don't mind having a stranger in your house" Peter said.

"You're not a stranger. You're Peter" the boy chuckled.

"Okay, we can go to yours" Tony nodded and continued onward.

With the music in the background, the car drive was filled with chatter. They entered the suburbs and Tony parked before one of the fanciest houses Peter has ever seen. They entered the house with Tony being welcomed by his AI. Peter looked around amazed.

"Wow, this place is amazing" the boy exclaimed.

"Thanks," Tony said, leaning on the dark leather couch, "How do you like your coffee?"

"With lots of milk"

"Of course," the man chuckled, "you heard him, J" he told, looking at the ceiling.

"Okay, boss. One black coffee and one with a lot of milk will be ready in a minute"

"Thanks J. Do you mind if I go change?" He asked Peter.

"No, not at all. I'll advise you not to put a shirt on though and you can unwrap the tattoo, let it breath"

"Okay, I'll be back in a sec.

Tony walked down a corridor and Peter was left alone in the living room.

"Mr. Parker, your and sir's coffee are ready and are in the kitchen, the second room on your left"

"Um, thank you Jarvis"

Peter went to the kitchen and took the two steaming cups in his hands. He put them on the table in the leaving room and sat on the couch. Around a minute later Tony was back, now in a pair of sweats with white socks and no shirt on as Peter said he should do.

"Thank you again, the tattoo looks amazing" Tony said as he sat down and taking his cup.

"Well, after all, that's what I do for a living"

A comfortable silence fell over them, they sipped on their coffees.

"Do you plan on going to university?" Tony asked.

"I wanted to go. I was supposed to be in MIT, they accepted me and everything. But then I discovered my passion for tattoos after getting my first one when I was seventeen. I opened the studio when I was eighteen, almost two years ago. And I love my job, it pay the bills. So what else can I want?" Peter explained.

"That's good, that you like what you're doing" Tony agreed.

They started a small chat and before they knew it it was dark outside. When Peter acknowledged that he said, "I should better get going. I don't wanna bother you"

"You're not bothering me, Pete. And since you're already here, why don't you just stay for dinner as well?"

"Well, um, okay. I guess I can stay for dinner" the boy agreed.

"Amazing! I won't try to cook anything because I would probably poison you. What pizza do you like?"

"Pepperoni or margherita"

"JARVIS, order one pizza pepperoni and one margherita, please" Tony said.

"They're on the way sir," the AI said a minute later, "and will be here in twenty minutes"

"Thanks J"

"No problem, sir"

When the pizza arrived Tony put the two boxes on the table in front of them with a pile of napkins.

"Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?" Tony asked.

"Why not. What movie should we watch?"

"I don't know. I heard that new animated Disney movie was good"

"Do you mean Frozen?"

"Ah, yes, that one. Do you wanna watch it?"

"I don't see why not"

Without saying anything else the movie started playing on the TV.

At the scene where Anna turned to ice and Elsa's love turned her back to life Tony looked at Peter. The boy was crying.

"I guess the tuff guy isn't that tuff" the man said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I have two arm sleeves of tattoos, yes. That doesn't mean I'm though. I'm actually very feminine. I wear panties and I like lingerie. I would wear skirts and crop tops but I'm scared of what would people think" Peter said through tears, clearly not thinking what he's saying.

"You wear panties?" Tony asked. The boy nodded and stood up, pushing his jeans down, showing his round ass in those black lacy panties he was in. He then pulled his pants back up and sat down wiping his eyes like he didn't just showed his ass. Tony stood there looking shocked. Peter turned to him and looked at him confused.

"Why are you.... I just showed you my ass" the realization hit him like a hard rock.

"Uh huh, you did" Tony agreed, still looking shocked.

"I'm sorry, I- "

"Your ass is amazing," Tony interrupted, "I like you even more now. Wanna see it again too"

"You wanna see my ass again?"

"Yes, and to squish it in my hands"

"I have an idea"

Peter stood up again and took of his jeans, leaving them on the floor. He crawled on the couch and lied on Tony's lap, ass up. The man looked down at him even more shocked than before.

"You'll let me touch your ass?"

"Yep" Peter wiggled, making his ass jiggle.

Tony's hands settled on the roundness, giving it a squish, making Peter giggle. He didn't move his hands after.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" Tony asked.

"Okay," Peter shook his head, chuckling, "but I have a better position for that" he moved so that he was sitting in Tony's lap, their chests pressed together and the man's hands on Peter's ass again.

"Yeah that one is better" Tony said.

They didn't talk much after that. Peter stayed cuddled in Tony's chest and soon found himself drifting off. His head was tucked in the crook of Tony's neck, the smell off his cologne filling the boy's nostrils. When the man realized Peter was asleep he stood up, the boy still in his arms, and walked to his bedroom. He put the boy down and lied next to him, cuddling him from behind. Tony fell asleep too, with Peter in his arms and said boy's ass pressed against his crotch.

#tony stark #peter parker #starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #ironspider #marvel #spideriron #spiderman #mcu #tattooartist #starker fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #starker fic #starkerweek2020

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kate837 · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

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Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

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Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

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"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

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Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

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First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

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The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

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The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

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The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

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Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

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#part two?#ILY #ily #I Love You #im back #blindspot au fics

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harry-styles-sunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting You In The Hallway Part 2

a/n: HII lovely people! I hope you are all doing well today! This is part 2 of Meeting you in the Hallway. A lot happens in this chapter, y/n and H gonna get real close.

What it is: You move into the apartment across the hall from Harry and you begin a friendship which you both want more from but can’t communicate that want.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warning: fluff, some cursing, sexual tensionnn, & lil bit of smut.

Pls reblog if you like it 😊 I literally have so much homework to do now because I wrote this instead LOL.

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You woke up at 4:00 pm. 2 hours before your shift started. You had only one more week on the night shift. Then you’d have a regular schedule. You took one hour to get ready. You basically just showered, did your hair, and put some mascara on. You put your scrubs on and compression socks that had little sunflowers on them. They were your favorites. Around 6:00 you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and packed your dinner Tupperware in your bag. You made it the night before so you could have it ready for today. As you were eating your cereal you heard 3 slow knocks on your door. You got up and checked the peephole just in case. Low and behold it was Harry. You opened the door and were greeted by a very cheesy smile.

“Hi” you looked at him a little confused.

“Hi. I’m really sorry to bother you but um.. Do you have an egg?”

“An egg?”

“Yeah. Just the one” he said with a small smile on his lips.

You shook your head playfully. “Come inside”

You walked further into your apartment towards your kitchen.

Harry watched you as you walked away. He watched as your scrubs hugged your ass and hips. How your scrub top was tighter around your waist. He noticed your sunflower socks and smiled a little.

You reached inside your fridge and grabbed 2 eggs. “Here, just in case one breaks on the way back over”

“Are you calling me clumsy y/n?” He smirked at you.

“No, just think it’s better to be safe than sorry” you shrugged.

“Are you a nurse?”

“Yeah. I’m leaving in a few minutes” you told him.

“Leaving? It’s like 6:15 at night”

“Yeah. Night shift.”

“Oh” he said a little sad you had to go soon.

“Yeah. I’m going to day shift soon though. Thank God” you sighed.

“Don’t like night shift?”

“I don’t like being awake when people are asleep and being asleep when people are awake. It sucks”

He nodded his head in understanding.

“Well, I’m making cookies. Hence the eggs. Do you want some? I can drop them off tomorrow.” He offered.

You smiled and nodded. It was sweet how he thought of you.

“Okay. Well I’m gonna let you go then. Thanks for the eggsss” he said as he playfully put an emphasis on the S at the end.

“No problem,” you laughed. “Hey I’m actually leaving right now anyway. We can walk out together” you grabbed your bag and washed your cereal bowl. He watched you the whole time, noticing how you your scrub top lifted a little bit when you reached for your reusable Starbucks cup to fill with water.

“Okay I’m all done” you breathed out and looked at him. You caught him staring for a small second before he got up quickly and waited for you to walk out. You put your crocs on before you opened your door and you heard a small laugh behind you.

“What?”

“Nothing it’s just the little cartoons on your shoes are adorable” he smiled so that you could see his dimples in your small hallway.

“They’re called jibbitz and I just got them for the kids. Child friendly you know?” You explained. You both looked down staring at your feet. Your right foot was filled with the faces of all the Disney princess’ and your left foot was filled with all the superheroes you could fit. You could hear his low chuckle and you two both looked up at the same time. At this point your faces were just a few inches apart. You could’ve sworn you heard him suck in a breath. You turned around and unlocked your door and took a deep breath of the hallway air. Harry followed you out and you locked your door and tucked your keys in your pockets.

“Have a good night.. at work”

“Thanks. Have fun baking”

“Thanks”

You never look at him for too long. Scared you’ll be caught staring the same way you caught him. But just before you left you noticed he’s always wearing long sleeves. At least that you’ve seen.

“Try not to overheat. Baking can get pretty warm” you said pointing to his long sleeves.

“Oh yeah. I always keep the temp in my place at like 60°. I get cold so I just put a long sleeve shirt on.”

“Why not just put the temperature up?”

“What’s the fun and coziness in that?” He smiled down at you.

You laughed and shook your head, “Right. Well goodnight harry”

“Goodnight y/n”

~~~

7 am rolls around faster than you thought. You say bye to your friends from work and grab your bag before leaving. You walk home because the sidewalks aren't as busy as they will be in an hour. Exhausted, you say hi to Pat and go inside. You catch your curly headed neighbor with his hair up in a small pony and a tank top with shorts. For the first time you see how many tattoos he has. You pop up next to him as you both now wait for the elevator.

"You're up early"

"Oh hey. How was work?" he looks down at you.

"it was… exhausting" you decide to not tell him the sad gory details of your night. Your patient threw up on you because of their chemo treatment and you needed to change your scrubs at the very beginning of your shift. "Were you walking?"

"Running. Jogging. Helps me clear my mind" he says as he waits for you to go in the elevator first.

You walk in and when you turn around you can see he has even more tattoos on his legs. You find them kind of hot. Wanting to know more and see more. He stands next to you as you wait for the elevator to land on the 17th floor.

"Do you work again tonight?"

"Yeah. Why?" you looked up at him. He was staring straight ahead.

"Nothing. Was just gonna invite you to my gig." he looks down at you and there seems to be disappointment in his eyes.

"Oh sorry. Maybe another night." you say quietly. "What do you do? Poetry? Sing? Can't be comedy." you say with a small smirk.

"Actually, I'm a very funny person y/n," he faces you. "But I-" he pauses as someone walks in.

Soon we land on the 17th floor and our elevator conversation seems to have ended by the time we make it to our doors.

"So… do you just go to sleep now?" he asked as he opened his door.

"Yeah basically. I mean I shower and eat something before I fall asleep." you answer as you open your door and turn around.

"Oh okay. I was gonna make breakfast, if you wanted some."

"Depends. What's on the menu?" you kicked your shoes off and leaned on your doorframe.

He watched you and said, "Today? I'm thinking…waffles?"

"Mmm, I'll be over in 30." just as you were about to shut your door he said, "No um I'll come and bring them over. With the cookies."

"Okay"

He left and you both closed your doors. It was nice to have a new friend. A friend that looked like a Greek god but still, a friend.

You walked into your bedroom and dug through the last few boxes you had left. You grab a clean towel and clean pajamas as you walk into your bathroom. You set the water to be warm because it was already way too hot today. You thought back to Harry. He seemed to love cooking and baking. You've only known him a few days but you already felt friendly enough. You remembered his tattoos. You wanted to ask if there was a story behind his heart tattoo.

Pouring some peach scented shampoo onto your hands, you began rubbing your hair and massaging it in. You remember how large his hands looked when he grabbed the two eggs yesterday. They looked miniature in his hands. Your thoughts began to escape you as you relaxed under the warm water and you wondered what it felt like to have his hands on your body. Remembering he was probably waiting on you to eat, you shook your thoughts out of your head and shut the water off.

"Its just a stupid crush" you mumbled to yourself as you put your pjs on.

~~~

As Harry was mixing the batter for waffles he began to think about you. He wanted to know more about your night and why you looked so exhausted. He wanted to hear you talk for hours. He couldn't explain for the life of him why he wanted to be around you every chance he got. He rushed to make at least 5 waffles for you. He cut up some strawberries and packed some berries. He packed everything in some Tupperware and grabbed the chocolate drizzle and whipped cream. Before he left his place he grabbed his phone and thought of how to subtly get your number.

He knocked on your door three times and you opened pretty quickly.

"Hey" you smiled at him.

He noticed how you had no more makeup on your eyes and you looked even more beautiful. "H-hey" he cleared his throat.

You noticed all the Tupperware in his hands and you grabbed a few as he walked in. "You're eating some of these waffles right? Five is too much for me."

"Oh yeah sure." He put all the bowls down.

"You weren't planning on watching me eat were you?" you said as you got two cups from your cupboard. He looked at your silk button up and matching shorts. They were a light pink. Your skin looked so soft.

"No." Yes. "I was just making yours first so you could go to sleep faster. You said you were exhausted"

"Oh, well thanks. I appreciate that." you tried to hide your blush so you looked down at your plate. "Do you like to cook?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah actually. It's just a hobby. I like to mix new things and try them out."

You watched his hands, noticing the chipped nail polish on them for the first time.

"Well, if you had a restaurant," you say as you take a bite of the waffle with whipped cream and strawberry, "I'd give you 5 stars." You smile cheeks full.

He gave you a dimply smile before mumbling a "thank you" and looking down. You planned on only eating two waffles but they were so good you guys split the fifth one.

"You never told me what you do at your gigs" you mentioned before stuffing your mouth again.

"Oh um I sing. Play some guitar too" he said as he focused on cutting his waffle.

"That’s so cool, is that what you do for a living?" you looked up at him.

With a throaty chuckle he shook his head no. "My job is a secret" he said right before taking a sip of his orange juice.

"Oh okay," you nodded, "So you can know what I do, but I can't know what you do. Mysterious man."

"Exactly!" he laughed.

You just shook your head and picked up your plate and cup and brought it to the dishwasher. Eventually Harry brought his too. Eating just the leftover strawberries now, you gave yourself time to stare at him a little. He was preoccupied with something on his phone. You noticed a small earring in his ear. You could tell he had more tattoos that covered his chest. A little bit of stubble had grown on him since the first time you met. You also noticed how he rushed to make you breakfast that he hadn’t showered after his run. When he finished with whatever he was preoccupied with a yawn escaped you.

"Well, I'm glad you liked breakfast. I hope you enjoy the cookies. Get some rest yeah?" he got up from his seat at your small table and walked over to where you were standing. You were leaning against doorway that led to your small hallway.

"Yeah thank you, again" You were eye level with the swallows on his chest that were peeking out from under his shirt.

"No problem. Have a good night tonight." he looked anywhere but you as he said.

"Yeah you too, good luck!"

"Thanks" he left and closed your door behind him.

Biting your lip you walked off to your bedroom to dream about the curly headed man across the hall.

As the door shut behind Harry, he silently cursed to himself. He had forgotten to get your number.

~~~

One Month Later

You’ve been on the day shift a few weeks now. You had settled into a new routine. Wake up at 5:00 am, be out of your house by 6:00, meet Harry in the hallway before he went for his jog and he'd give you a smoothie before you left for work, be at work for report by 7, work until 7:00 pm. Get home around 7:30, shower, eat dinner with Harry, then sleep to do it all over again if you had to work the next day.

Your friendship with Harry had progressed. You two basically took care of one another. He'd feed you every day and you'd do his laundry as a way to repay him. You’d say you two got to a level of comfortability around each other but you still oddly enough had never been to his place, knew what he did for a living, or been to one of his gigs. He'd say he didn’t have any performances coming up but some nights he would leave after dinner a little earlier than usual. You knew all the stories behind his tattoos. One day when you were doing laundry he asked you to toss in the shirt he was wearing and when he took it off you saw the tattoos you had been missing. That day he gave you the rundown on all of them.

You could tell he was getting more comfortable around you because he didn’t seem so nervous to say the wrong thing anymore and every time he saw you, sweaty or not he'd give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He explained its what they did in France when two people were friends. When I mentioned he wasn’t even French he waved me off.

You were currently on your couch on your day off waiting for Harry to come back from the kitchen with your popcorn and white wine. You had gotten him into watching The Vampire Diaries and as much as he would criticize the show, some scenes just grasped all his attention.

"Har?" you called for him. Your new nickname for him that he said he didn’t mind.

"I'm coming I'm coming" he said as he walked in with two wine glasses between his fingers, a wine bottle in one hand, and the popcorn in his other.

"You know, you kind of look like Stefan. Similar noses, same um cupid's bow" you said pointing to yours. "You guys both also do the same thing with your eyebrows when you're serious.

"You’ve been looking at my cupid's bow?" he grinned at you while pouring you a glass.

"Oh don't start" you rolled your eyes taking a sip.

You began watching season 2 episode 9. You knew what was going to happen but Harry had no clue. He absolutely loved Damon and thought Stefan was pathetic. You somewhat disagreed with him but still allowed him his opinion. It slowly got to the scene where Damon confesses his love for Elena. You mouth every single word and even a tear slips out when Damon's falls but you wipe it quickly. You watched Harry as he watched the screen, his mouth slightly opened.

"Okay but why in the bloody hell would he compel her to forget! Ugh this show frustrates me" He sighed laying back against in the couch.

"He couldn’t be selfish… have you ever wanted to say something to someone but you knew it would be selfish if you did?" you looked over at him.

Suddenly his facial features hardened and he swallowed before answering, "yes, actually. I guess I do understand Damon."

"Well, yeah" you played the next episode and drank your wine. You felt your eyes get heavy the more you drank it.

Next thing you knew you felt something hard against your cheek and puffs of air on your forehead. You were moving. You opened your eyes slowly and realized Harry was carrying you into your room. You closed your eyes again and you let him place you on your soft mattress and you felt him tuck you in under the blanket. Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you looked up at him. He gave you a small smile and moved your hair out of your face.

"Go to back to sleep, love" He bent down and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "I'll lock up"

You gave him a slow nod and drifted back to sleep. As Harry closed your door behind him, he mumbled to himself, "I can't be selfish".

~~~

One Week Later

You were currently getting ready for the day. Your body was used to waking up early for work so it was around 7 am. You wanted to catch Harry on his way back from his run. You were able to hear the elevator ding from your apartment because it was still so quiet on your floor. You ran to your door and opened it just enough to see if it was Harry. Once you were able to see his bright pink sneakers you hid just a little more so that right when he was about to open his door you jumped out and yelled “HI”.

He jumped and turned around, “Fuck me y/n” he placed his hand over his heart and breathed heavily.

You giggled and leaned against your door frame. “Is that really what you want?” You grinned up at him.

He shook his head at you with a small smile. “I was just trying to open my door in peace”

“So, do that. Open it.” You pushed on. You wanted to know why you still were never invited over.

Harry sighed and played with his keys. “I have something to tell you”

“I knew it, your hiding like a huge sex doll in there or something right?”

“You know,” he approached you and put his hand over your head leaning on your doorframe too, “you can be a little annoying sometimes”.

“That’s rude,” he smelled like sweat and musk mixed, “but I know. Okay what’s up?”

He looked away from you as he spoke. “Alright, first off. My apartments always a mess and it’s not what you think. You know me as some guy who comes to your place and cooks and I run… but you don’t know this big part of my life.”

“To be fair you haven’t let me,” You look up at him. His body is inches away from yours and you want to touch him in some way to make him more comfortable but you don’t know how.

“I know. It’s not like you’re judgmental I just don’t want you to see me differently.”

“Har, as long as you’re not some creepy dude that watches some weird shit, like illegal shit, I really don’t care. You’re my friend, I’ll support you in whatever.” You poked him where his butterfly lay under his shirt.

“If you say so,” he turned around and opened his apartment, “come in” he opened the door open for you.

You walked in and it was a short hallway like yours. When you walked in you could see the mess he was talking about but it wasn’t horrible. Papers on the floor in his living room but his kitchen was spotless. He spent the rest of the morning making breakfast for you two while you just watched. You told him about your last few patients and how one was officially cancer free. He always loved hearing you talk about them, especially the success stories. He was there for you for the unsuccessful ones but you both didn't like to talk about them too much.

~~~

It was now 5 pm, you could see the door that led to his room. You weren’t going to push it and ask to see though. You saw a few bedazzled jackets on his couch. You ran your fingers over one.

“I have a gig tonight.”

“You do?!” You jumped excitedly, “Har, I don’t see why you were so nervous.” You look around. “I don’t see a sex doll”

“So annoying.” he walked into his room. You followed but stopped at the doorway. “Come in y/n”

You walked in slowly and looked around. A few more papers crumpled up on the floor.

“The outfits I wear are a little…” he looked into his closet. Your eyes followed his and you could see why he was nervous. There were skirts, bedazzled coats, pants, and all of different colors.

“You little shit.. You had a closet like this and didn’t share?” You pushed him out of the way and began looking at all the clothes individually.

Harry smiled behind you, happy with your reaction. He looked at the way your eyes lit up over feeling certain fabrics. “Do you uh, wanna help me pick an outfit for tonight?”

You turned around quickly and looked up at him. “Yes,” You tried to contain your excitement. “Go shower, I’ll put some outfits together.”

He turned on his heel and listened to you. You began setting outfits on his bed. You settled on setting down 4 outfits. One was a black dress shirt and white pants that flared outward. The second was a pink suit that had roses on its jacket on each side. The third was a red suit with black embroidered roses on it. The last one was a pink dress shirt with white high waisted pants and pink overalls. The last outfit was your favorite but you weren’t t going to mention it.

You heard the shower cut off so you sat on his bed.

He came out in just a towel wrapped around his waist. You focused on the detailing of the embroidered black roses on his red suit jacket. Or at least tried to focus on that.

"Um I picked four options, I hope you like them." He came and sat next to you on the bed, his towel opening a bit between his legs.

"I think I want to be comfortable tonight," he ran his fingers over all four options, "Might go with the black shirt and white pants."

"Okay cool," you were trying your best to look anywhere but at him.

"I have a box at the bottom of my closet, a bunch of jewelry in there, could you pick some rings out? I'm just gonna keep my small earrings tonight and I don't really want a necklace. It'll be too hot"

"I'm like your stylist"

"Yeh, who knows, maybe if I make it big you will be" he sends a wink your way.

"Don't think I'd have the heart to leave my patients." You grab the box. As you open it you look inside and see a bunch of rings and pearls. "Hey are your nails done?"

"Eh a little chipped"

"We'll fix that" you grab his H and S rings and set them next to you. Having your back towards him you could hear him putting his clothes on. "You know I have a gel kit, could help with the chipping problem."

"Oh really? Could you do them for me?"

"Yeah of course." you take out his rose ring and settle them down next to his initial rings. "Are you done?"

"Yeah I'm not putting the shirt on till later though, too hot."

You nodded, turned around, and grabbed his hand. You opened his hand up and dropped his rings inside.

"Thanks, grab me one more."

Confused, you looked inside the box and looked for one you liked. You decided on one that looked like it had a red gem. "Here" you gave it to him.

"Thanks, here take this one and wear it," he gave you back his S ring.

"Why?"

"So people know you're my other half"

You felt butterflies in your stomach but you suppressed them. He just saw you as friend, nothing more. You mumbled a thanks and slid it on your finger.

"Lets go back to my place, so I can do your nails. I know you like color but I was thinking white? Match your pants but it'll stand out against your black shirt"

"Yeah okay im alright with that."

You went back to your place and you got yourselves settled into your kitchen with the UV machine on. He concentrated on you as you painted the foundation clear polish on his nails.

"Har, is your job still a secret?"

"Eh, I guess I know you wont be a loud mouth about it anymore,"

You looked up and he was grinning, teasing you. You rolled your eyes and went back to painting his nails.

"I'm a writer. Author of a few books. Poetry."

"Liar, I've never heard of you." Although it did make sense with all of the paper crumbled over his floor.

"Pseudonym, love"

"Really?" You placed his soft hand under the light.

"Mhm. No one knows it. I like it that way. No one knows what I'm thinking sometimes."

"Not even your mother?"

"Not even her. She's read my work but only the ones I want her to read."

"Interesting" you say as you place his other hand under the light.

He nods and continues watching you. Soon you finish up and he stares at them amazed. "Wait so I don’t have to wait for them to dry?"

"Nope, I'm gonna get changed. It's almost 7"

"Okay" he stays staring back at his nails.

You played with his ring while looking back at your closet. Should I wear black too? Or white? Maybe we shouldn't match. But why not? You settled on black and white striped pants with a red bralette and some red heels. His gig was at a sit-down bar anyway. When you came back out and ready to go, he looked you up and down and you could see him clench his fist at his sides.

"Nice pants," he swallowed hard.

"Thanks, let's go?"

"Yeah okay"

You grabbed a taxi and shared it to his gig. It was a little more downtown. By the time you got there with traffic it was almost 9. he started around 9:15. You settled on one of the stools at the bar and he went backstage. He said he needed to rush and tune the guitar they had for him so you just wished him luck and grabbed yourself a drink.

People cheered for him when they saw him come on stage. Must not be his first time here you assumed.

"Good evening everyone! Tonight will consist of a few covers and maybe an original. I'll see if you guys deserve it" he winked at the crowd.

You swiveled your chair around as you heard the familiar chords of 'Girl Crush' began. You'd never heard Harry sing and once he started you didn’t want him to stop. He had the voice of an angel. He hit high notes so effortlessly sometimes and other times you could see the veins in his neck bulging. The next song he played was 'Space Cowboy' which he did so well. You cheered extra loud each time.

"Alright alright, I'm going to play an original now. I wrote this one just a week ago or so. I hope you like it.

Meet me in the hallway

I just left your bedroom

Give me some morphine

Is there any more to do?

You swiveled on your seat to the beat. His voice was getting a little raspier now. Like he needed water.

I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves

'Cause you left me in the hallway

Give me some more

Just take the pain away

You started to think about what the song was about. Was Harry secretly hooking up with someone? The song finished and you ordered a shot of tequila. You needed alcohol to distract you from asking him what the song was about and the pit in your stomach. "It wasn't about you y/n," you said to yourself. He's never been inside your roo- well for like one second when he brought you to bed but that was nothing. It's still not about you. Harry's set was over and you were over the night too. You’d put on a fake smile for Harry. You saw him approach the bar, more buttons from his shirt undone.

"So, how'd you like it?"

"It was so good! Congrats!" you put your arm around his neck and brought him in for a hug. You kissed his cheek as you both pulled away.

"Thanks. I'm happy you liked it."

"Mhm" you nodded, finishing your drink. "Why don't we go somewhere and celebrate?"

"You're not tired?"

Feeling a bit angry with the thoughts of Harry hooking up with someone and not telling you about it, you shook your head and paid the bartender.

"Nope. I'm full of energy right now."

You both decided on a club that was near your building. It was so that when you guys got tired you didn't have a log way home. You both decided to take a round of shots to celebrate properly. Before you know it harry has his hands on your waist to keep you steady and you find any excuse to touch him.

"I have to pee!" you yell in his ear.

He felt his ear on fire after your lips had brushed against it. Your nose was red from all the shots and your lips were a little more pink from all the lime. For his peace of mind he walked you to the bathroom and watched you go in. You did your business quickly and walked back out to him.

"Hey do you wanna grab some fresh air?" He asked as you approached him.

You looped your fingers around two of his belt loops and looked up at him and shook your head. "Im good"

His eyes looked darker than usual and he stared at your lips.

"y/n, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," you moved closer to him as a few girls tried get to the bathroom, you could hear him grunt as you pressed yourself against his lower half. "I just moved out of the way for them"

He kept his eyes on your lips as you licked them. It made him ache watching you. He wanted to kiss you so badly, but not when you couldn't remember it the next day.

"Har, what was that song about?" you looked down. With furrowed brows he lifted his hand to your cheek softly and made you look up at him.

"What do you think it was about?" He wanted to run his thumb over your lips. He had felt them so many other times on his cheek but each of those times it happened too quick.

"I don't know, I don’t even know if I care about what it's about. I wanna know who its about" you leaned into his palm.

People came back out of the bathroom and the rush of people going back and forth made you feel dizzy. That's the thing about tequila, you could drink and drink it but all the effects hit you all at once. Harry's grip tightened around your waist.

"C'mon lets go home." He walked you through the bar and got you outside. The fresh air overwhelming you, even made you nauseous. You tried your best to walk straight home. In your head you were able to hold yourself up. You didn’t need Harry's help. But in reality, he was holding you up and laughing lowly to himself watching you wobble. He was only tipsy, never really been a lightweight. Once he was able to get you to your apartment, he helped you take your shoes off and tuck you in, once again. You were snoring instantly. He looked at you for few minutes and kissed you on your forehead before leaving to his own place. Exhausted, he undressed himself, completely nude, and went to bed.

~~~

"Fuck Har," you moaned as you pulled his hair from in between his legs. He groaned and only dug his tongue deeper into you. "I'm close"

You felt his cold rings digging into you around your thighs. Right as you felt your release coming on, a loud honking of the horn woke you up outside your window.

"Oh for gods sake." you smacked yourself on the forehead then instantly regretted it feeling your headache.

~~~

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum" Harry grunted as he bucked his hips up hitting the back of your throat. You moaned and reached up to cup his balls. "Fuck I'm cu-"

A loud honking noise woke him up and he looked around him confused. He was sweating. He looked under his covers and remembered he was wearing absolutely nothing. His breathing was heavy as he got up to use the bathroom. He hopped into a cold shower before starting his day.

Harry: You up?

Y/n: Sadly. Wtf happened last night?

Harry: We drank too much. Can I come over for breakfast? I’ve run out of food.

Y/n: Yeah, door’s open. Pls don’t be loud.

A few mins later he walked in and opened your fridge. He saw you on the couch sitting down with your head back. He saw watermelon and decided to put some cubes in a bowl for himself. He sat next to you on the couch and you both said hi lowly. You had a banana in your lap and began eating it. Harry looked over at you in the exact moment you put it in your mouth. Looking away he stuffed his mouth with watermelon. You could hear the slurping sounds that sounded a lot like… you know.

"Do you have to slurp when you eat that?" you rolled your eyes.

"Do you have to take such big bites of the banana? It's not like I'm going to steal it." He said rolling his eyes.

Today's going to be such a long day…

Part 3 is now up!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #one direction #Meeting you in the hallway #myith #pls reblog

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fumbling-fanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Lewis Tan x Reader...

Prompt/Idea: Fuck her like her ex is living in the apartment downstairs.

This wasn't a request, just something me and @crushed-pink-petals chatted about. Then I started writing and I was forcing it so I forgot about it and then I saw it when I wanted to write and now I'm happy with it. So moral of the story, write what you can and leave them on ice for another date.

Warnings: Smut

**********************************************

Lewis pressed you into the couch with his body as you kissed. His mouth moved from yours, across your jaw, finding the side of your neck as he ground his hips into yours. You moaned into his ear as your hands went under his cotton t-shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, and the movements of his muscles beneath.

Your drew your nails lightly down his back under his t-shirt . He released the skin of your neck, and groaned into your neck. “Take this off.” you breathed, tugging on his shirt. His mouth released your neck, no doubt to return at a later point to finish the love bite.

In a split of a second, his shirt was gone. Then so was yours. Lewis managed to shimmy you out of your jeans. Then his jeans where gone - boxers too. You're not sure when you lost your underwear. Maybe you weren't wearing any.

Lewis always managed to make the simple moment toe curlingly intense. Which made you wetter and everything a hundred times more sexy.

He cupped the side of your face, his thumb hooking into your mouth as he balanced his weight on his elbow and forearm while his other hand disappeared down between you both.

As soon as you felt his fingers brush along your stomach - you knew what was coming, Lewis knew you knew what was coming. Your fingers trembled on the back of his neck in anticipation. Your heart pounder in your chest as you felt his hand dip between your legs. He cups you, dragging his fingers between your folds, gathering your arousal in his hand. He uses it lubricate himself, drawing his hand up and down his length from base to tip.

If you could repeat the feeling of Lewis entering you you would. It makes you stomach muscles flutter like butterflies.

He holds still to savour the feeling of being in you. How you dance around him, trying to pull him deeper.

His other hand, now finished between you both, slide under your lower back, and as he slide into you he tilted your hip upwards. It wasn't even that big of a tilt, but as usual it just has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your fingernails scraping against the back of his head. Lewis shudders.

"You want me to stop" Lewis grinned, his hips still moving in that way that meant you couldn't catch your breath. You couldn't speak, just pulling Lewis closer to you. His stomach against yours, his chest against yours.

There was the sound of knocking on a door, but you could no longer see the TV so you weren't sure if it was the TV or actually someone at your door.

"No" For a moment you were lost in the movement of his hips and the dirty things he was whispering into your ear.

The banging on the door sounds again. Now it was obvious that the noise wasn't coming from the TV.

"The door"

"Ignore it" the banging is more impatient, obvious it's was not knuckles against the door but a palm.

"Someone is at the door. Open the door" Lewis doesn't stop immediately. He changes the angel of his thrusts watching as you fall quiet with a gasp.

"No" he grins pulling your hands from your mouth, the moan mixed with a curse shuddering out as you came.

"Good girl" he praises with a kiss on your forehead. You can't help but whimper when he pulls out, getting up off the floor. You really didn't remember being on the floor, you thought you were on the couch.

You want to get up too, cover yourself with the quilt that's under you. But your body says no.

Lewis gets up to answer the door. He knows you're mostly hidden by the couch so he doesn't need to wait for you to cover you up. He already knows exactly who's gonna be at the door.

"Hi" Lewis grins opening the door wide. Wide enough that the person can see into the apartment, but also see that Lewis is naked. Butt naked.

"Erm-" your ex quickly averts his eyes up to the hallway ceiling. It's one thing to see another man naked. It's another to see him with a hard on and naked. And a very different thing to see another man who is dating your ex naked, hard and most definitely still wet from having sex with her.

"How can I help you?“ Lewis smirks. It's the smirk that somehow doesn't get him punched in the face.

Your ex is your ex because well according to him - things change. Which in the interest of self preservation you didn't fight, you can't force someone to stay with you. But now there was a seed of doubt growing in your ex's mind as he caught Lewis' physic in the corner of his eye. Did you break up with him because he didn't look like Lewis?

Ripped was almost an understatement. He was cut and your ex suddenly wanted to know what his secret or what Men's Health routine would get him on his way to looking like Lewis.

But then everyone knew abs where made in the kitchen. So what was Lewis eating… Apart from you (and very well by the sounds of things)?

And Lewis' dick. While you're ex was not in the category of small or below average, he certainly was not packing the way Lewis was. He wanted a better look, for comparison purposes later, so risked moving his gaze from the ceiling to the floor.

Did you and your ex break up because of his size and performance? Another seed of doubt. Because when he thought about it, he didn't technically break up break up with you, it was more like a break that got out of hand, right?

And there's a tattoo down there too! Like it's the world's dumbest placed tattoo. But your ex also thinks it's the coolest tattoo, the tattoo that no doubt says 'best dick of your life' - a nice preview before the main show. Maybe he could get a tattoo down there, but then hell was also more likely to freeze over. Plus he wouldn't look cool like Lewis did.

Lewis extends a hand, in an implied 'good talk' way. "I'm Lewis. Lewis Tan" your ex doesn't know why, but he extends his hand too, shaking Lewis' hand.

Why was he shaking hands with the naked guy who was now banging (and very well by the sounds of things) his ex? He was probably gripping the hand he used on you minutes earlier.

You're ex mumbled his name, cursing himself for not saying his name with more umph. With his chest. "Cool, well we'll try and keep it down"

Try. Try. The way Lewis said try, your ex knew he wasn't going to 'try' and do anything. He'd probably just end up being louder.

"See ya" Lewis shut the door before anything else could be said.

"What did they say?" you're ex's girlfriend asks as he returns to the apartment from his failed telling off. But he didn't hear, he was too busy thinking about Lewis. And you. And we'll mainly Lewis.

"Babe! Did they say they would be quite" he snapped out of his trance.

"I think so"

"You think so, they either said yes or no!"

"Well I only spoke to Lewis"

"Whose Lewis?"

“Y/n's new boyfriend. He answered the door. Naked"

"What!“ your ex moved to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. Not out of offence, just out of the thought that he couldn't really go around with possible traces of you on his hands.

“He opened the door and he was naked. No clothes on. Just a hard on… That lasted the entire chat, it didn't move once"

In the moment of silence the muffled moans and cries of pleasure could be heard again. This time it sounded like you and Lewis had moved from the living room to the bedroom.

"Are you fucking serious" your ex's girlfriend shouts up at the ceiling, stamping a foot.

"To be fair it's not that loud. The walls are shit, remember we heard all of that Golden Girls Marathon from Ms Yeatman's apartment"

And it wasn't really. It was just while you're ex and his girlfriend ate dinner in front of the TV, they realised they probably should have picked a show that had less silent intense moments where only looks were shared between the characters. The show just wasn't the same when the moments were punctured with "Oh my god" or moans that made both blush.

You're never sure why you take the lift in your building anymore, it's painfully slow. But then again you're exhausted and are only leaving the apartment based on Lewis' promise of pancakes.

On hearing that word you threw on a pair of leggings, flip flops, a top and Lewis hoodie and stumbled into the lift.

It's only when the doors open and you see your ex that you remember the other reason you don't get the lift.

"Y/n" he mumbles. You just give him a slight acknowledging nod.

You stay where you are and let your ex take the wall furthest from you. It's not really an awkward silence, but it's not an not awkward silence. You're praying he doesn't speak.

Eventually the lift slows to a stop and the doors open slowly.

"About last night" you look at the gap and wonder if you should try and squeeze through it.

"Yeah, sorry. But don't worry, you won't have to deal with it for much longer-" the gap is wider so you chance it.

"Yep, I'm moving out" you keep a couple of steps ahead, seeing Lewis' figure outside your apartment entrance.

"What? When?" you push open the entrance door without answering. "See ya" you skip up to Lewis, trickling his sides. He spins around tackling you in hug like he hasn't seen you for a while.

"Let's go before I have to answer questions about me moving out" you whisper as you tuck yourself under Lewis' arm. "At least he didn't stare at you dick" Lewis grins. You ugly laugh.

"He did not!" you snort

"He did too"

"Well it is a nice dick" you shrug.

"Maybe you wanna look at it after pancakes" Lewis cocks his head your way, his cheeky grin accentuated by his glasses.

**********************************************

Tags: @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @chaneajoyyy

@honeychicana @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @crushed-pink-petals @lady-olive-oil @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @deathonyourtongue @designerwriterchic @itsbqueenthings @alicesfracturedmirror @joebob15274 @write-fromthe-start @islanddgal @tarashari-tfp @dc41896 @princess-evans-addict @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @islanddgal @c-cqat

#lewis tan #Lewis tan x Reader #Poc OC #Woc oc #Lewis tan fanfic #Lewis tan imagine

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belle82devart · 5 years ago

Text

73 Question Tag Game

Thank you to the lovey @thewanderer000 ❤

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

I would say a 6 or 7. Life can be so fucking scary (as well as people), but it still has it's charms and quirks that make it enjoyable and something to look forward to.

Describe yourself in a hashtag?

[#scared of everything] or [#justneedsahug]

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

Jeffrey Dean Morgan. He's got the swagger, the sweetness and the salt and pepper look isn't helping sway my opinion at all. Plus he's got strong arms, perfect for cuddles.

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

(I hate to admit this, but I had to look up what a fucking marquee was.) The anxious and the strange.

What’s your wakeup ritual?

Get up, shower, have a little time for self loathing and negative personal views. Then go for the self affirmation card and continue the day.

What’s your favorite time of day?

Morning. Most days, the morning is where it all starts. Where the hikes in the mountains begin or where the next big projects begin.

Your go to for having a good laugh?

Crack videos of whatever fandom I'm obsessed with at the time. Or cat videos.

Dream country to visit?

I know it's not a country, but Europe in general. If it had to be a single place, Poland.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

Finding out while my mother threw up on the side of the road that 'hey, you're gonna be a big sister'!

Heels or flats/sneakers?

Combat boots. Now I can do heels, and I can do sneakers, but boots, especially combat style are my favorite.

Vintage or new?

Vintage all the way! It's oleasing to be able to experience something old and make it new in your eyes. I guess that's why I own a Polaroid camera and Walkman.

Who do you want to write your obituary?

My family. All of them.

Style icon?

My father. I've basically stolen all his band shirts and old biker vest/jackets. Sooo yeah.

What are three things you can’t live without?

Music, art, and friends/family. What's life without companionship? What's life without some sort of art? The world wouldn't suevibe without music, and I can't survive without any of the listed.

What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

Ketchup for most things, but not all.

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

- Vincent Price

- Bob Ross

- Anyone else who wants to eat my shitty cooking.

What’s your biggest fear in life?

Well, I absoluty am scared to death of spiders, but that's not my biggest fear. Failure and letting those I care for down... That's my biggest fear. I fear that I will never make anyone happy, that I can't do right...

God, this question called me out hard.

Window or aisle seat?

Window all the way. Give me the view !

What’s your current TV obsession?

- The Walking Dead

- The Witcher

- and The Boys

Favorite app?

Autodesk Sketchbook Pro

Secret talent?

For some reason, I can put people to sleep really easy when I pet their hair.

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

Went to Washington D.C. I got to see so many museums and cool little places.

How would you define yourself in three words?

Anxious. Sweet. Creative.

Favourite piece of clothing you own?

My leather jacket.

Must have clothing item everyone should have?

Fuzzy socks. Evwryoje deserves to have warm feet!

Superpower you would want?

Teleportation. I can go anywhere I want but also I can leave undesired sistiations when they get overwhelming.

What’s inspiring you in life right now?

People, music, books, movies/shows/games. You name it, i'll get something out of it.

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

Never give up, even when the odds seem stackwd agaisnt you. Always keep pushing forward and remember that there will always be someone in the world to fall back on when it gets to be too hard.

Best advice you’d give your teenage self?

You'll see and hear a lot of shit in life that'll being you down, that will make everything seem so bad... But it will get better. You'll make it to the next day, and you'll one day see yourself as a good person, even if you need that little push and reminder from your friends.

A book that everyone should read?

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

What would you like to be remembered for?

Being kind and helpful.

How do you define beauty?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so it truly can't be defined generally without personal opinion slipping in.

What do you love most about your body?

My eyes. I really don't see anything worth while besides my eyes.

Best way to take a rest/decompress?

Curled up with my cats. I may be allergic but i'll be damned if I don't get a good rest without them.

Favourite place to view art?

Anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes it's fun going to a gallery and seeing the art others have created.

If your life were a song, what would it be?

Ça va ça va - Claudio Capéo

If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

Drums or the marimba.

If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

Upper arm or as a 3/4 sleeve.

What’s your spirit animal?

Maine Coon

Best gift you’ve ever received?

A small box made of cedar from my mother for my birthday. I don't know why but I was a sobbing mess when I got it.

Best gift you’ve ever given?

A 4ft x 6 ft painting in dedication to my aunts and their family after their car crash.

What’s your favourite board game?

Risk, Pandemic (Ha! Ironic), Monopoly, and Sorry!

What’s your favourite colour?

Blue and all shades of blue.

Least favourite colour?

Yellow.

Diamonds or pearls?

Neither. Give me some good old fashioned gemstones like quartz and I'll be happiee than a pig in mud.

Drugstore makeup or designer?

Drugstore. One, I don't have the money for designer makeup. Two, you can use drugstore and dollar store make-up to achieve the same look. And three, I don't wear makeup too often, so what's the point od paying top dollar for something I'll only use here and there?

Blow-dry or air-dry?

Either. Depends on how much time I've got on my hands.

Pilates or yoga?

Haven't done either but I would love to try yoga.

Coffee or tea?

Both!

What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

Hullaballoo.

hullaballoo. noun. 1. Sounds or a sound, especially when loud, confused, or disagreeable: babel, clamor, din, hubbub, noise, pandemonium, racket, rumpus, tumult, uproar.

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

Both, but also white chocolate!

Stairs or elevator?

Both

Summer or winter?

Both. I love the storms during the summer, and the snow during the winter. Especially New York winters (Buffalo in particular).

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

Chicken parmigiana

A dessert you don’t like?

Anything with Nutella.

A skill you’re working on mastering?

Welding. This year i'll be starting the rest of my classes to get certified in it.

Best thing to happen to you today?

Nothings really happened yet, but that can always change!

Best compliment you’ve ever received?

"Wow, you've got some talent" when it comes to my art or writing.

Favourite smell?

Rhododendrons and the forest floor after a rain storm.

Hugs or kisses?

Both! And at the same time makes it so much better.

If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

Paranormal locations along the Blue Ridge Parkway or how religion ties in with art.

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

A poem about beauty in death and how the earth always reclaims what has been taken. The poem was truly amazing.

Lipstick or lip gloss?

Both.

Sweet or savory?

Both!!!

Girl crush?

Kate Beckinsale

How you know you’re in love?

I truly have no idea! I mean, I haven't been in love before...

Song you can listen to on repeat?

Fistfight by The Ballroom Thieves

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

Mads Mikkelsen. He's classy, he's goofy, and who wouldn't want to?

What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

Persuing my passions. I'm on the road to become a Graphic Designer, and that's just so exciting to me!

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Tagging: @whitecrawace-mind-palace / @rosadiazbiqueen | @johnlocklover221 | @yancy-trash

#get to know the blogger #get to know me #tag game #73 questions #Spotify

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