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missmeinyourbones · 2 years ago

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WARM CONVERSATION (suna x reader)

cw: breakup heavy, light mentions of reader going through it, angst to fluff i promise!!!! best friend osamu <3 kinda long im sorry, titled from sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift because what else would it be

You should've known he’d come over. Should've expected it the moment you sent the text turning down his offer disguised as a reminder.

A sick part of you almost wants to laugh as you reread the texts on the phone in hand.

From: Osamu

ur coming with me to atsumu’s stupid thing tonight, right?

To: Osamu

absolutely not

Not even twenty minutes later (which is impressive, considering Osamu lives at least thirty away from your apartment), an abrasive knock is on your door and you don't even need to check the peephole to see who waits on the other side.

The moment you open the door with unimpressed eyes, Osamu is opening his mouth to complain.

“You're shitting me, right?”

His tone walks the line of being in denial and being pissed, like he can’t quite be angry yet because he’s not sure if you’re joking with him or not. He does a quick once-over of your appearance—with pajamas you've been wearing for three days straight, dirty and unbrushed hair, and a more than half-eaten bag of chips in hand, you choose to shrug.

“Can’t say I am,” you deadpan before turning your back to him, letting him huff his way into your apartment with urgency.

“No,” he shakes his head to himself, laughing in disbelief, “no, you’re coming with me.”

Closing your eyes in frustration, your head falls back into a childish groan.

“Osamu, I really don't want to.”

“It’ll be good for you,” he's quick to try again. His eager words immediately have you scowling, but he can't tell if the waver in your voice is one on the verge of laughter or tears.

“And how will celebrating your brother being awarded ‘The Sexiest Man in Japan’ be good for me?”

“Eurgh, not that,” he’s quick to clarify through an over exaggerated gag before reiterating, “just getting out there. Everyone’s missed ya.”

Your glare softens in the slightest at his sweet confession. He uses your hesitation from the sentimental moment to snatch the bag of chips from your grasp and raise his eyebrows in amusement. Instantly, your intimidating glare returns and you’re throwing your hands out at your sides in frustration.

You whine obnoxiously, rubbing at your eyes with your fingertips before recollecting your stubborn self.

“I'm no fun to be around right now,” you decide to remind him, crossing your arms in defense and letting him sit on your persistent words.

Now, it’s Osamu’s gaze that softens at your harsh self-judgment.

“Yer the only one who thinks that,” he tries to match your sarcasm, but you’re sure to note the gentle tone weaving through his breath.

Tired of the game of cat and mouse, you fold. Plopping yourself on the couch, Osamu cautiously sits next to you, where your head is in your hands and your nose is pinched in thought.

“He’s back,” your voice is soft, barely above a whisper as your eyes meet the floor, “and he’s gonna be there.”

Osamu merely nods, as if he’s been expecting this point to be made.

“I know,” he agrees, before thinking out loud, “it’ll be the first time you’ve seen him since—” his voice loses its confident edge as his sentence trails off.

With a humorless laugh, you bitterly finish for him, “Since we broke up?”

“Since you forced him to break up with you,” Osamu corrects through a smug grin, “but yeah.”

And your eyes roll because he’s not technically wrong, there's just more to it—so you decide on biting your tongue and letting him have that one.

When silence takes over, you assume that's the end of the conversation. Perhaps that was naive of you to think, as when you turn your head you’re still met with Osamu’s expectant gaze awaiting your response.

“I don’t know, Osamu,” you give up into a sigh.

Getting excited at your slipping determination, he sits further up on the couch.

“I’ll be right there the whole time. I'll drive, we can leave whenever ya want, and if anyone says anything stupid, I’ll defend yer honor, per usual.”

Your silence speaks louder than your resistance, and Osamu can practically taste the victory on his tongue as he watches you loomingly mull it over.

“You owe me a bottle of wine,” you declare as your head falls back into your hands.

Osamu silently lunges his fist in the air at his success.

“Damn right I do,” he proudly agrees before tossing you the snack still held in his left hand, “I’ll even throw in a bag of chips, too.”

…

Walking up to the door of Atsumu’s (disgustingly large) penthouse, the sickening memory of the last time you saw Suna intrudes your mind on repeat.

You knew he’d be traveling. After officially signing with EJP Raijin, you had thought you braced yourself for this. The early training hours, the late night flights, the stealing time together just for it to be ripped away at any moment. You swallowed that pill and digested it fully.

And then he told you about America. About the year-long tournament and exclusive training program he’d been recruited into. You vividly remember him eagerly bragging about how not even Atsumu got invited. He was thrilled, and you were too, for him.

But then came the unease, the insecurity that would eat away at your brain every night like a parasite. You couldn’t rest, couldn't live with yourself knowing that there could be more out there for him. You refused to hold him back from fully experiencing whatever this opportunity could bring him. You wanted him happy, whether that was with you or not.

Needless to say, the breakup came as a surprise to him. Two weeks before he left, just when he had everything he’d ever dreamed of, the thing he needed the most decided to slip from his grasp.

“You're being stupid,” he threw out in a panic. “You don’t get to just decide that for me when it affects both of us.”

“I already made up my mind,” you'd croaked out through teary eyes and a constricting throat.

You remember Suna looking at you like he didn't even know you, like he didn't recognize the person standing in front of him. The person who held his heart in their hands, the person he has a ring hidden in his closet shelf for. Unrecognizable.

Your shaking hands held out in front of you like a plea, you continued to use them to sever your red string of fate from him.

“You don't know what's out there for you. You could love it there, you could meet someone better than—”

“Why would you say that?” he winced at your words. He felt like he was going crazy, like this wasn't really happening. Not to him, not with you. “I don't want anyone who’s not you, I don't even want to think about that, I—”

“Rintaro,” your hand on his salty cheek was the last time he’d feel your touch. He didn't knows that at the moment, refused to believe it, but it was. He knows that now.

“I won't be able to live with myself if I don't do this,” your voice is barely audible behind your sobs. “I’d never forgive myself if I knew you had anything to regret.”

Regret.

He places his hand on top of where yours rests on his cheek.

“I don’t want to do this,” he urgently begged, “I love you.”

You smiled and it broke whatever was left of his heart.

“And I love you,” you ached. “So go to America, and don't think about me. And if there’s a world where you come back here a year from now and somehow still feel the same, then maybe things could be different. But we won't know that unless you go.”

Two weeks later, Suna was on a plane to the states—and when he went to call you before he boarded, he was immediately sent to voicemail.

It’s been a year since it happened, but it feels like days when Atsumu opens his french wooden door with a brash welcome.

The party in itself is fine, probably fun for the average guest invited. Atsumu thought it would be funny to throw himself a congratulatory party for being voted Japan’s Sexiest Man, though with the alcohol coursing through his veins and the hype from his past and current teammates, you’re willing to bet he fully believes it.

The night passes like nails on a chalkboard, agonizingly slow and leaving you hyperaware of your actions. Conversation is easy enough. Everyone is kind and Osamu holds true to his promise of hanging by your side for the most part. You catch Suna’s gaze a handful of times, never holding it long enough to address it, nor feeling drunk enough to do something about it. You hate how foreign it feels.

…

The balcony is a refreshing kind of cold on your clammy skin. The jacket you hold tightly against your torso is more so for protection than it is for warmth.

You’d excused yourself from a small conversation with Iwaizumi and Osamu to escape onto a balcony of (one of) Atsumu’s guest rooms. Just for a moment—a moment to breathe, to stop thinking foolish thoughts, to bury yourself in the drink in your hand.

The sound of the sliding door interrupts your sulking and your heart drops like glass on concrete.

“Osamu said I might find you here,” the voice wavers, and you sigh in relief to hear that it’s Aran.

“Fucking Osamu,” you curse behind a sip of your drink. “Remind me to kill him later.”

Aran laughs earnestly at your clear stress, “M��not that bad, am I?”

“No,” you're quick to correct, “no, I didn't mean it like that.”

Aran’s always been a good friend, to both you and Suna. From your high school days to the entire year you were barely seen in the public eye, he’s always been genuine and attentive. The conversation is natural, a nice distraction from the consistent thumping in both your head and heart.

You congratulate him on his most recent win. He asks about your work. You tell him about a recent promotion and he manages to successfully tell you about his time in America without directly tying it back to Suna. You appreciate his earnest effort.

That is, until he clears his throat into the crisp air.

“He hasn't been with anyone since you,” Aran suddenly breathes.

You don’t say anything, but he sees how your brow furrows at the sudden declaration.

“He didn't see anyone while he was away, in America,” he clarifies.

He watches your body stiffen at the realization of what he’s talking about. Drink in hand, your arms cross defensively across your chest. You’d attempt to play the pathetic action off as the cold weather if you cared.

Your tone is a bit harsher than you’d like it to be when you respond. “It wouldn't have mattered if he did, we weren’t together.”

Aren’t, you mentally correct yourself. We aren't together. It shouldn't matter, no matter the capacity. But with the way Aran’s watching you crumble like a leaf in the wind, both of you know that it does. It matters.

“I mean—he tried, a few times,” he adds on, “but he couldn't go through with it.”

Your heart sinks at the mere thought of Suna trying to get back out there, and you hate that you still feel this way because that was the whole point. The reason for the way everything went down the way it did is because you wanted Suna to explore all of his options before choosing you. So why does the mere insinuation of him doing the exact thing you told him to do make bile rise in your chest?

You sniffle, hoping Aran dismisses it on the chilly breeze as you practically whimper, “Why are you telling me this?”

Aran smiles, but it doesn't meet his eyes. It drips of a melancholy coldness. “Because I think you deserve to know that even when he could’ve, he still didn't do anything.”

His words grip you like a tight hug, almost constraining as they apply pressure to all the spots you'd numbed months ago. And he must feel it, too, because he decides that he’s said enough.

With a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, he makes his way back inside, but not before prefacing you with a foreboding, “I don't know if he’ll try and talk to you tonight, but if he does, just—think about hearing him out, alright?”

You swallow before nodding, “Sure, I’ll think about it.”

And once again, you're alone with your thoughts—but they're different this time. Less cruel and guilt-ridden, but more so clear and airy.

You hear the door sliding open once more behind you, and your naivety assumes it’s Aran returning with another final word of wisdom. You’re turning around without a second thought.

“Aran, I told you I’d–”

Any blood not tainted by alcohol leaves your face as Rintaro now stands before you, taller than you remember, though you know it’s not even possible. His eyes still look right through your facade, his adam’s apple still prominent as he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Hi,” he bites first.

Your response is immediate, but far weaker, “Hi.”

He joins you where you lean on the railing, practically shoulder to shoulder as the two of you stare at the dimming streetlights, sipping on drinks that suddenly don’t feel strong enough.

“Congrats,” eventually falls from your lips, “on everything. You deserve it all.”

“Thanks,” he returns, though you know it’s only to segue into what slips from his lips next. “You look great,” he lamely chokes out.

Your response is immediate and cold, “You don't have to.”

“Don’t have to what?” Suna chokes out after a second of confusion.

“Lie,” you breathe, eyes still focused on the street below. “I’ve looked like shit for the past year, I’m well aware.”

Within the entire mourning period of the breakup, you’ve barely taken care of yourself. You look unhealthy—sunken cheeks and dark circles and skin and bones and sadness. But Suna doesn't see it that way.

Sure, you look different, but you always look different. You're always growing and changing one way or another. And while he might wish you looked like you got more sleep, that's for selfish reasons, not superficial ones. Your eyes still hold the same shape they did when he left you, your hands still smaller and cold. Your lips still the same mold against his, he hopes.

“I always think you look beautiful,” he disagrees with a mere shrug, “you still look like you.”

You swallow back a whimper at his honest words, before clearing your throat and biting the bullet.

“Why’re you out here, Suna?”

The last name stings, but he chooses to ignore it for now. There are bigger issues at hand.

He states the obvious, “It’s been a year. M’back from America.”

He watches you nod in agreement, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

Your throat closes at his words.

“Rintaro—”

“I went,” his voice raises in desperation to get his point across, “and I had all the freedom in the world. Could’ve done whatever the fuck I wanted to. And I did, or I tried to, but I wouldn’t because it wasn’t with you.”

“I know,” your pitch matches his, “that was the point. I wasn’t going to let you do something if you couldn’t do it properly.”

He shakes his head at your stupid reasoning, the same stupid reasoning that ruined everything in the first place. You were so sure that there was more out there for him, that he’d be swept off his feet by some American woman and forget you entirely. And because of his own fear, he was forced to go along with it and prove you wrong. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Well guess what?” he takes a sip of his bottle before swallowing harshly, “I did it, and it sucked, and now I'm back and nothing’s changed on my end.”

He takes a step closer to you, shaky hand raising in slow motion so you see it coming, so you have a chance to flinch or dodge or run, and you don’t. You let him rest it on your cheek, just like you did that night, and you let him tilt your jaw up to look at him properly for the first time in a year.

“Now I know what it’s like to be with you and to be without you, and I still just fucking want you.”

You take a moment to admire him, just as beautiful as the day you’d left him. He’s porcelain and tangible and here for the first time in a—

“And it’s been a year,” he reminds you through a sad smile, “like you said.”

You let out a wet giggle through your shaky core, “It’s been eleven months.”

Rintaro groans as if he’s been punched in the gut, and the feeling of your laughter erupting even louder shoots what he assumes must feel like drugs straight to his heart. Ever so gently, he swipes a stray tear from your lash line.

“Don't make me wait another month,” he begs, “please.”

Rintaro thanks whatever deity might've listened to his endless prayers these past eleven months, because for the first time ever, you listen to him. Obey him without complaint as you let him press his lips to yours, and he’s overwhelmed with warmth at the realization that they do still mold against his all the same.

“I love you,” he breathes in between breaks from your lips, “never stopped loving you.”

“I know,” you match his hunger, “I love you.”

Between overdue kisses and eager gazes to ensure that you are, indeed, real, Suna lets go of all of his regrets.

“M’never letting that happen again,” he shakes his head at his own stupidity, “never letting you go again.”

“Okay,” you mindlessly nod into his hands.

“Never letting you make a stupid decision like that for the both of us.”

“Sorry—”

“Never letting you look at me like that from across the room just to look away. I mean, what the fuck was that—”

You shove him out of embarrassment and oh, it feels like love. “Okay, I get it,” you whine.

And when the night passes in eventual hours that feel like mere seconds, ending up with you in Suna’s lap and everything under the moon being discussed, he’s brought back to reality as you begin to rise from his hold.

Rintaro instantly ushers you back on top of him, “Hey, hey, where d’you think you’re going?”

You comply with his gesture, but not without rolling your eyes. “Shouldn't we go back inside? They're gonna wonder where we are.”

“Let ‘em,” his head is buried into your neck, a feathery kiss placed as he tightens his hold on you. “I just got you back, lemme hold onto you for a little longer.”

…

+ bonus scene!

Between tipsy laughter and friendly competition, the party going on inside should be busy with a handful of different things. But the leading contender of entertainment for the group of friends seems to be partaking on the balcony.

Too lost in one another, you’re grateful you don't see the tufts of red hair peeking out behind the curtain, hoping to catch a glimpse of the long-awaited reunion taking place.

“It's working, I think it’s working!” Hinata beams, bouncing from window to window trying to get the best view.

“She’s on his lap,” Kita, who traveled a decent way to see this (oh, and for Atsumu, too), notes. “Do you think they’ve kissed yet?”

Speaking of the devil, Atsumu pushes his old captain aside as he drunkenly whines, “Aw, we missed it?”

The crowd of overgrown men bursts into childish chatter.

“Don't be a fuckin’ creep.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you idiot.”

“They’ve had to have kissed by now, we just weren’t paying attention.”

“Yep, they're kissing!” Bokuto excitedly confirms, watching the two of you outside like a rom-com displayed on the silver screen.

Osamu’s attention is finally sparked at this confirmation.

“Oh thank god,” he impatiently shoves through the crowd to confirm the sight with his own eyes, and when he deems it to be true, he exhales a long overdue breath of relief. ‘‘That was the worst year of my life.”

Aran tilts his head in confusion, “I thought it was only eleven months—”

“Eleven months too long.”

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna angst #suna fluff #suna fic #suna rintaro fic #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro angst #suna haikyuu #suna rintaro haikyuu

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tinydeskwriter · 2 years ago

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Actress!y/n Talking About Harry in Interviews Over the Years (2014-2017)

A/n: before committing into writing 2014 til 2023 I want to see you guys opinion, and I just watched a bunch of interviews to get ideas from. Just as a career background for the reader: She’s a former Disney Channel star, from the Miley, Selena, Demi, Jonas Brothers generation, she went into Hunger Games to solidify herself, before going for more Award bait movies and a musical career. She won Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in 2016 and Best Actress in 2017, this has happened before once at the Academy Awards, Tom Hanks if I am not mistaken.

word count: 2964

The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Oct, 2014:

“And we are back with Y/n Y/l/n.” Ellen said to the audience before turning back to the young artist sitting in her couch. “So, you’re single…”

The people cheered in the audience.

“I like how you say this and it isn’t even a question.”Y/n joked looking a the people in the audience, making everyone laugh, including the presenter, who laughed a little embarrassed by the misstep. “But, yeah, I’am single and ready to mingle.”

“So just to clear up rumours: you aren’t hooking up with your hunk of a co-star?”the blonde joked, keeping up with the young woman sarcasm and good humor.

“Which one? You have to be specific here, I literally have a lot of male co-star, but as a personal rule, I don’t date them… or hook up.” The young actress clarified, looking at Ellen and them the public. “But I specially don’t hook up with guys in relationships, that’s really trash person behavior.”The girl’s response was applauded by the women in the audience. “Thank you, thank you,”She said seriously, signaling them to calm down, “don’t go applauding me for not doing something I wouldn’t want done to me.”

Which generated a new wave of applause.

“Now, calm down guys, we have a game to play” Ellen asked the audience, waiting for the noise in the studio to subside before turning to the guest in the couch, “So, you’re single, and ready to mingle, so we’re going to play a game, so I can get to know your type, and perhaps help you find love, and end your loneliness.” The presenter said looking at Y/n while ‘Who’d You Rather?’ appeared on the back screen. “It’s a little game of Who’d You Rather? We are going to put two pictures in the screen and you’re going to choose one guy over the other.”

“O-kay.”the young actress agreed, looking to the screen.

“Perfect, let’s start with Nick Jonas or Harry Styles?”The host asked as pictures of the two man showed up in the screen.

Y/n looks pointedly at Ellen, who’s hiding a little smile while looking straight to the young artist.

“I’ve been really enjoying Nick Jonas’s music.” The actress said admiring the picture of he two men on screen. “‘Chains’ is just so sexy, and ‘Jealous’ is kinda of sexy and funny, I totally see his appeal…”

“I am feeling a ‘but’ coming.”Ellen interrupted her.

Y/n paused for a moment amid the crowd cheering, laughing at they enthusiasm. “But, I don’t know Nick Jonas, and I kinda of know Mr.Styles…”The crowd went crazy with her declaring to know the One Direction singer. “Harry is such a nice guy, so very polite.”

“So, Harry Styles, because he’s polite?”Ellen asked her with that knowing smile.

Y/n just hided her face with one hand, she knew the blonde was doing that on purpose, probably with her boyfriend’s blessing to torture her in national television.

She just nodded in agreement without taking her face off her hand.

“Okay, nice, so Harry Styles or Michael B Jordan?”Ellen asked, seeming to be having the time of her life.

Y/n raised her face, looking at the two pictures.

“I mean…”The young woman put a finger in her lower lip, arching her eyebrow towards the audience. “Gosh, this is tough, but I am nothing if not constant, so Styles.”

“Harry Styles or Zac Efron?”

“I don’t feel like Zac is age appropriated for me, so I will keep Harry.”She knew that Harry was probably having a lot of fun in her dressing room.

“You know this is only a pretend game, right?”The presenter asked, making even Y/n break character. “Now, Harry Styles or Bruno Mars?”

“Bruno is a very talented man, but I will keep my answer, I feel like he’s a little older for me, different phases, while Harry and I are around the same age, so, I am going with Harry.”She shrugged.

“Harry Styles or John Meyer?” Ellen asked.

“Give me some Harry Styles.” She didn’t even had to ponder her answer, the whole world probably knew already that John Meyer was a walking red-flag.

“Harry Styles or Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“Jake is hot, I had a major crush a few years back, but that had been said, I got over it, so, Styles.”The young woman said without taking her eyes off the hem of her Oscar de la Renta dress.

“Harry Styles or Calvin Harris?”

“You know, I am starting to think that you took those guys from a Taylor Swift’s exes list.” The actress commented, making the audience go wild as Ellen laughed. “That said, Calvin Harris is Taylor Swift’s boyfriend, so I kinda of feel obligated to choose Mr.Styles.”

“I’s not because you want to choose Harry…”Y/n hated he cynical smile in Ellen’s face.

“Noooo-no-noo-no.” The actress denied hilariously. “I’am a respectful girl, I don’t want other girl’s man, and that’s why I’am keeping Harry Styles.”

“Perfect.” Ellen said still smiling, “Yeah, Harry Styles or Jared Leto?”

“Wouldn’t it be fun, if I came the whole game with Harry just to switch him for Jared Leto?”She asked, knowing the uproar it would cause. “Jared is so handsome, so very talented, he’s vegan… but like, he’s in his forties, kinda of my mom’s age, it would be weird, so let’s keep Harry.”Not even Ellen was been able to keep a straight face anymore. “I mean, we came all this way, I feel like settling for Harry.”

“I think you’re one of the few twenty-years old that would ever say that.” Ellen said, making Y/n laugh, the two looked at the screen expecting the next guy, only to have Harry photo single out in the middle of the screen. “Looks like we have a winner, Mr. Harry Styles, wouldn’t it be funny if he was backstage?”

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, Nov, 2015

“You’ve had quite the year, you released a album, that it’s absolutely amazing and is at the top of every chart, and you starred in three fantastic movies this year: Cinderella, Carol and The Hunger Games Mockingjay Part II, which by the way is premiering tomorrow…” Jimmy Fallon said to the cheering of the audience.

“Yeah, feels like the end of a era.” Y/n said with a bright smile, crossing her legs and resting one elbow on the support of the armchair.

“This is the last installment in the franchise, it must be quite a special premiere,” Jimmy said. “early this year, during Cinderella’s London premiere you had a very special guest at the red carpet with you, are you bringing him again for this premiere, or that was a one time only thing? Are you guys still friends?” He joked using the term the actress herself had used before when referring to hers and Harry’s relationship.

The actress blushed a little, a shy smile on her face as the audience cheered.

“We’re still great friends, the closest…” the young woman said full of innuendos as Jimmy smiled wildly. “You know, I actually didn’t know he was coming to the Cinderella UK premiere till I was ready to leave the hotel.” She told he host. “He was supposed to be on a plane to South Africa, where he had a show the very next day.”

“He surprised you?” Jimmy asked, clearly pleased that the private young actress was opening up, for the very first time, about her very private relationship at his show. “And for those in the audience who doesn’t know, ‘he’ is the One Direction’s heartthrob, Harry Styles.”

The female in the audience went wild to the mere mention of his name.

“He did, I had invited him, because we were in that point of our relationship where we decided to be less secretive, so I was attending every show of his that my schedule allowed, trying to be a supportive girlfriend.” She explained, smiling when thinking about her handsome boyfriend. “At that point so far, his tour schedule hadn’t allowed him to go to my premieres, and then he surprised me, he was waiting for me inside the car, my sister slash assistant helped him.” The audience once again went crazy.

“Is he coming with you tomorrow?”

“He is, he had last minute suit fitting today, it’s so amazing to be able to bring him with me,”Y/n admitted with a smile. “since the band went in a break, we’ve been able to spend so much time together, no more tour for a while.”

“How long have you guys been together? If you don’t mind me asking?” Jimmy was leaning slightly over the table, his body directed towards her.

“Sometime.”She replied vaguely, with a mysterious smile. “Longer than most people imagine, thats for sure.”

The Jimmy Kimmel Live!, March, 2016.

“Congrats on a very successful Award Season, I think you kind of won every award out there, you won the Academy Award of Best Supportive Actress for Carol, the Golden Globes, Cannes back in May, you just won five Grammy’s for your first album, Y/n Y/l/n I” The host said as soon as they’re both seated. “And, last but not least, congratulations on your marriage.” He gave emphases to the word ‘marriage’.

In what became a viral moment, Y/n Y/l/n had thanked her husband ‘H’ for being ‘just the most supportive and amazing hubby’

“When did you guys get married?”Kimmel asked. “We see each other all the time, I feel like this is the kind of thing you tell your neighbor.” Jimmy said with a smile. “Am I getting a new neighbor? Are you guys moving out…?Honestly I am kind of hurt I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“Thank you.” Y/n said with a polite. “So, we got married back in December, we are going to England for Christmas with his family, we had got engaged in France during a couple’s vacay, and we didn’t want to wait,” She told him. “The only people there were our parents and sisters, but we’re planning a bigger ceremony sometime this year or the next.”She clarified.

“Will I be invited?”The host asked.

“For sure, you know I adore you, you’re one of my favorite neighbors.” Y/n agreed.

And it wasn’t as if she was going to say ‘no’ in national television.

“I know this is something your going to be asked about a lot,” Kimmel continued. “Did you change your last name? Because I feel like Styles is a cool name to have.”

“I did,” She admitted as the audience went wild. “Legally I am Mrs. Harry Styles, but professionally I am still going to be Y/n Y/l/n.”

The Ellen DeGeneres’s Show, Dec, 2016.

“Congratulations.” Ellen said pointing at her belly. “Last time you’re on the show you had just got married, and won a Academy Award for Carol, I wasn’t able to attend your wedding, because you guys decided to get married in Italy…”

“But I send you and Portia your gift basket.” Y/n interrupted, smiling at the memory of their idyllic wedding at their Italian villa back in May.

“And we loved it, thank you, it was very nice of you and Harry.” The host said as a picture of the basket was shown on the screen behind them, Y/n handwritten note for all to see. “So, you won a Oscar, you won five Grammys, you got married, La La Land went amazing in Cannes, and now your having a little baby, I remember the first time you told me about you and Harry, back in 2014, you’re here for a interview about The Hunger Games and he tagged along…”

“You made me play ‘Who’d You Rather?’ and he was in the dressing room having the time of his life…”

“Yeah, well, I was having fun too.” Ellen admitted making the audience laugh. “Back then it was all very secretive, you’re at the beginning of your relationship, so I didn’t ask you how you guys met, but Harry was here later with 1D, and he didn’t get into much detail, but he said you guys were set up on a blind date.”

“Hold up.”Y/n raised her hand. “Did he actually said ‘WE’? Because recollections may vary.” The actress said with humor. “IF memory serves me right, I was basically ambushed into a blind date with him, he actually ASKED our mutual friend to set us up after he found out she knew me, and then my sister in law waited until after we announced we are having a baby to tell me that Harry had a crush on me since 2006, and he basically had a poster of Rosie Lewis, my Disney Channel character, on his childhood bedroom and…”The audience starts to laugh. “Hold on guys, and apparently he told Gem, my sister in law: you don’t believe me now, but we are soul mates, one day I am going to marry that girl.”

“And you didn’t run for the hill? It’s kinda of creepy.” Ellen said with a funny face that made people laugh.

“It’s…”The actress seemed a little at loss of word in how o defend her husband, but kept a amused smile on her face. “I think is kind of cute, is a little creepy, sure, but it’s nice to know he was crazy about me since forever and that I was his celebrity crush.” She said to the ‘awn’ of the audience. “I mean, I always thought that when it comes to Harry it would be some thirty-something year old cougar.”

The Late Late Night Show with James Corden, Aug, 2017

“Oh, My Gosh! This is absolutely disgusting.” Y/n said looking at all the smelly disgusting food in front of her.

“I know!”James said in pure joy. “You go first. To eat, I’m going to give you a little cod sperm.” He turned the table until he dish was in front of he, he took the card with the questions and laugh. “Y/n, your husband, Harry Styles, was part of one of the world’s biggest boybands, One Direction, list the boys from your favorite to your least favorite, vocally.”

Y/n was silent for a second, only looking at James with half-closed eyes, she speared the cod fish sperm with her fork, lifting i in the air, causing the audience to react.

“There is no way I am eating this.” The artist said, putting it down, she rests her elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers. “I don’t think it is really hard to answer this.” She rested her chin on her fingers, looking defiantly at a shocked James. “My question is: to rank the five boys or minus Zayn?”

“Let’s do it minus Zayn.”The host said. “Are you really going to answer it?”

“I am not eating it. So… H first, I feel that he was the one with the strongest vocals, Niall, because he has this really lovely voice, Liam and then Louis.” She said without getting into detail about the last two.

“I’am giving you the bull penis now.” Said James. “Y/n, rank those Harry Styles hair style’s”

The man proceeded to show her three pictures, one of 2011 baby!Harry, in all his preppy glory and curls,

2015 longhair!Harry and 2017 Dunkirk!Harry.

“I mean…”The artist sighed. “ I love him, he’s my husband, I honestly think he is hot no mater what.” The actress clarified. “That being said, long-hair!Harry was the H I started to date back in 2014, he looked like such a bad boy but he was actually a pretty shy guy, so soft and caring, I loved that hair, that hair makes me feel things, so I will say that this one is my favorite.”

“I honestly found it disturbing to hear you speaking of him like that.”James said seriously, making the audience laugh.

“Shush James, this is a serious matter,” Y/n jokingly reprimanded her husband’s friend. “Short hair Harry, which is his Dunkirk haircut by the way, is also very hot, he’s in a suits phase now, with all those silk shirts, and it’s just so very ‘daddy’ you know,” The young woman said admiring her husband’s picture. “He’s also just so lucky to no longer have that long hair, because Atticus is just in that phase that he is happy to pull things.” She laughed seeing James shaking his head with eyes closed as the audience cheered.

“I honestly will never be able to erase you calling Harry ‘daddy’”

“But he is, we have a son together James, I wasn’t even saying it in a sex tone, so get over it, Harry is a daddy, I call him daddy all the time,” She picked the picture of her husband, showing it to James, “just look at him, he’s such a DILF, who wouldn’t want to call him daddy?” The audience went wild.

The host hided his face behind baby!Harry picture.

“Y/n I don’t need the specifics, just give us the ranking.”

“I don’t want to hurt my husbands feelings about his hair choices, you put yourself in this situation James, you said: do you want to play a really fun game?”Y/n said with a mischievous smile. “It isn’t that funny anymore is it?”She laughs. “Ok, let’s move on. So, baby!harry, he looks cute, I think 2011 Y/n would totally have a crush on him too.”

“So your ranking is 2015 long-hair, 2017 short-hair and baby!Harry?”asked James.

“Yeah.”Y/n agreed, “I honestly would fu** him in all those hairstyles, he’s just so dreamy, you know?”

PART TWO

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request part 2 for Inventor, where reader gets kidnapped by Baron so that they can make things exclusively for him. And the motiv behind this is that the reader refused to share one of there inventions with him because they knew he would use it for himself and not share it with his people 🙄

Hope this isn't too big of an ask, happy writing!!

Myth

Azriel x reader

A/n: you can read Inventor here! Also this is a long one lol

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, injuries, some violence, and some typos bc I don’t think I got them all sorry

A guard ripped off your blindfold violently, almost taking a fistful of your hair with it. You blinked rapidly adjusting to your surroundings.

You sat tied to an old wooden chair in an ornate office decorated in the colors of autumn.

Well shit. If you knew mouthing off in the last High Lords meeting would land you here you would’ve kept your mouth shut.

No you wouldn’t have.

Beron clearly wanted something from you. And you had a feeling you knew what it was. Azriel’s spies had gathered intel that Beron had been keeping what was found in the mines a secret. The guesses had been anything from rare metals to ancient fae weapons.

Footsteps from the hall grew closer until the door creaked open. You counted eight people, seven guards and Beron. Two guards approach you, lifting your chair to bring you face to face with Autumn’s High Lord.

He was casually leaning against his desk, flipping through a file on his desk you were sure had your name on it. “If it isn’t little miss know-it-all. I’m so glad you could join us.” His tone was sickly sweet and each word dripped with a sick sarcasm. It made your stomach do flips before tying your intestines in a knot.

You didn’t know how long you’d be able to hold out. You’re not trained like Azriel. You can’t fight and you definitely won’t do well under torture. But you’d do your best for him, for your court.

“Let’s see here,” he drawls, flipping open the file. “Multiple awards since the start of your university days, graduated the top of your class, and come highly suggested from three out of seven High Lords. You’ve been around the world and co-discovered countless new technologies.” You knew where this was going.

You had been backed into this corner before by powerful men. They were less powerful than Beron and you had never been tired up before, but that’s beside the point. You wanted to snip back at him but now seemed like a good time to hold your tongue.

When Beron looked at you he had a raised brow and a confused scowl on his lips. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath, pulled your lips super tight, and were holding your eyes open really wide. You’re not the greatest in social situations. Letting out a huff you try to relax into the rickety wood chair. “What do you want from me?”

An evil smirk slowly pulled at his lips. “I need you to…reinvent an old weapon for me.” His spies were right in their guesses. Cauldron, you didn’t even want to think about what this weapon could do. “And if I refuse?” You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice or the slight wobble of your lip. “You have two hours to decide. If you don’t we’ll make sure the shadowsinger gets your body back.” His tone told you it would be in pieces.

Beron adjusted his jacket rousing his desk to sit. Two more guards appeared in front of you as they untied you, switching out the ropes for metal shackles. As the ushered you out into the hall you saw Eris waiting for you. The tall male looked calm and composed. You knew on the inside he was panicking due to the rash decision his father made. Eris roughly grabbed your upper arm dragging you to his side. “I will escort her.”

“We were commanded by the High Lord to take her.” The guard that shackled you said. Eris raised a brow, wearing a similar expression to his father’s. “Then you can accompany us.” You began the long trek down to the dungeons of the Forest House. You kept your head down the whole way knowing that if you looked up at Eris you’d give everything away. All the secrets you’ve kept all the meticulous planning your mate and brother-in-laws have accomplished would be for nothing with a single pleading look.

A guard opened the bared cell door as Eris kept your arm in his firm grip. Shoving you onto the cold stone to keep up the facade Eris slammed the door shut behind you.

You held your hands out to break your fall. As your knees hit the floor your hands skid across the stone floor. You suck in a breath, pushing yourself to sit against a wall to inspect your hands. Your palms are red and fresh cuts litter your skin. You press them against your pants to stop the stinging pain.

Eris scoffs at you. “Pathetic. I’ll be back in an hour to see if you’ve made your decision. Think fast little tinkerer.” He teases, turning away on his heel without giving you a second look he and the guards leave you.

You are not going to cry, you say to yourself. I am going to be smarter than Beron. I’m going to get out of this and Az and the rest of the group will come for me.

——

Rhys, Azriel, Cassian land on the balcony of the House of Wind entry way, returning home from Illyria. All three were hoping to find their mates waiting to embrace them. Instead they were greeted with silence. The brothers look to each other in confusion as Azriel sends out his shadows to search the house.

Taking a few more steps into the house they tensed at the sound of little footsteps rushing toward them. Nyx appeared, launching himself at his father, a little frown on his face. “Daddy!” Rhys scoops the little boy to his chest kissing the top of his head. Rhys could sense his little boy’s distress. “What’s wrong buddy?”

“They’ve been looking all day, but no one can find Auntie y/n.” Azriel’s eyes went wide. His heart stopped for a moment as he pulled on the bond, but nothing. Your side was dark. How could he not have felt that you were gone.

Gwyn and Elain came rushing in next followed by Lucien and two of Azriel’s shadows. “I found something!” The priestess exclaimed, waving a piece of paper in the air. Lucien immediately recognized it as stationary from Eris’s desk. He snatched it from Gwyn’s hand, his eyes moving quickly over the note as he took in each word. His face grew grim.

Finishing the note he looked to Azriel. A frown pulling at the males lips. “What!” The word came out loud and agitated. Lucien hesitantly handed the note to Azriel as he began to explain. “It’s from Eris. Y/n has been taken to Autumn. He’s not sure what Beron wants with her.”

Azriel’s hands were shaking with rage. Gwyn noticed, quickly taking Nyx from his father’s arms and rushing out before something drastic happened. With a look from Lucien Elain nodded her head, turning to follow Gwyn.

Azriel’s shadows began to swarm in a violent pattern. In and out, whispering in his ears as they pass by, threatening to plunge the foyer into darkness. Cassian gripped his shoulders tight. Forcing his brother to look at him. “We will get her Az. But you need a level head.” Azriel’s face was stuck in an angry scowl. His brows pinched and his hazel eyes darkened with rage. Azriel turned his head to look at Rhys. Giving the High Lord a look that said he would go to Autumn without permission if he had to.

Rhys pushed the males apart. “We can’t go in alone. We need more than us.” He looked to Lucien who shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I can’t go back there, not until he’s gone.” Rhys nodded in understanding. “We need the Valkyries with us then.”

“I won’t be subtle.” Azriel gritted out through clenched teeth. “I don’t expect you to be brother. Beron will answer for his crime of taking your mate, I swear it.” Some of the tension let up in Azriel’s body at the promise of Beron suffering. “Let’s get everyone together and head out.”

——

You had been staring at the wall willing yourself to feel nothing for the Mother knows how long. The stinging in your hands had subsided but your knees ached. They were definitely bruised but you couldn’t bring yourself to check. A door at the end of the hall opened, footsteps echoed down the narrow hall as they got closer to your cell. You prayed it was Eris returning alone.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the lordling staring at you. Eris leaned casually against the bars, like this was a casual meeting between friends. “So, what is it? He won’t tell anyone but the guards.” You blink rapidly to keep your tears away as you spoke. “It’s a weapon. I don’t what kind. He just wants me to rebuild it or fix it or whatever.” Your voice came out monotone. Truthfully you couldn’t be bothered with this conversation. You just want to be out of your cell. Eris let out a huff leaning back from the bars. He paced in a small circle before facing you again.

“I sent word to Lucien who has no doubt told your mate and the other two.” Your heart rate picked up at the mention of Azriel. You had tried to pull on the bond but no luck. When you were taken you were hit with a heavy dose of fae bane. It must still be in your system. Azriel and the others would be on their way soon.

“Tell him yes.” Eris froze, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?” He whisper yelled. You stood, slowly making your way to the cell door. “I’ll work on it. Take me to Beron.” Eris looked like he was torn. If he took you to Beron Azriel would make sure his death was slow and painful. “If you don’t take me I’ll just start yelling for the guards.” An uncomfortable pause fell between the two of you.

Opening your mouth as if to yell for a guard Eris shushed you. “Fine, fine I’ll take you.” The punishment his father would bestow upon him would be worse than Azriel if Beron found out Eris was with you when you made up your mind. Snapping on his mask of cruel heir Eris called for a guard. You were surrounded by the same group of guards as Eris brought you back up to the main house.

Beron met you at the entrance to the house looking smug. Like he’d already won this little game. “I’m glad you’ve made the right decision.” He leads you past his office to a room with two more guards posted at the door. They stand aside to let you, Beron, and the others through but not Eris. You don’t look at him in case your emotions betray you.

Beron gestured for you to sit at the work bench. He left the cuffs on you as a reminder that you are still a prisoner. Beron carefully removes the cloth hiding the weapon from you. You sucked in a harsh breath at the broken sword in front of you. This thing was supposed to be a myth. But here was the sword of the first High Lord of the Day court sitting in front of you. “The last known name for it was Claíomh Solais.”

You nodded along at Beron’s words. “The myth is that the first High Lord of Day received it as a gift from the Mother herself. He had kept the sun rising and as a thank you the Mother gave him Claíomh Solais so he could protect the day from his enemies who wanted eternal darkness.”

“Correct. My miners found it like this. Cut clean in two. Fix it, but add something more.” What else could Beron possibly want this thing to do? Even if you could fix it, the sword was powerful enough. You nod in agreement and he leaves without a word, keeping two guards inside and the two outside.

——

Azriel was vibrating with anticipation. They were right outside the house. You were in there and Beron was doing Cauldron knows what to you. Rhys laid a reassuring hand on Azriel’s shoulder. He felt Rhys tapping on his mental shields and opened them enough for Rhys to say, “Soon, we are just waiting on Eris.”

The doors to the Forest House swung open and Eris stepped out onto the landing. He strode back and forth until his eyes landed on where Azriel was keeping the six of them hidden with his shadows. Eris whistled as if he were calling his hounds telling Rhys to make his move. He reached out to the minds of the guards at the front of the house. Making sure none of them would be bothered by the presence of the Night Court.

Clearing the front garden and massive stone steps Eris lead them into the house. Azriel let his shadows loose to look for you. They had been restless since Azriel found out you were missing and they were eager to bring you back to their master.

Rhys kept his hold on the guards they passed while making sure the ones ahead stayed where they were as well. “This is over kill you know. I got him go back out to the mines for another look.” Nesta scoffed at him. “You think we’d risk y/n’s life on your word?” Eris rolled his eyes and kept walking fast. Coming up on the room where you were being kept Azriel threw out his arm, hitting Eris square in the chest and bringing the group to a halt. Shadows come flying back down the hall whispering their findings to Azriel about the guards and your wellbeing.

“Two in, two out. I’ll go, the rest of you guard Rhys.” Eris tried to get him to wait but Azriel stared running down the hall, a dagger in each hand. Azriel threw the daggers. Each finding their mark flawlessly in the throat a of the guards. Shadows caught the bodies from thudding to the floor, keeping them pressed against the wall as they continued to struggle for air. Azriel quickly rapped his knuckles on the door and stood to the side.

The door opened a crack for the guard to see. He squinted, cautiously opening the door he looked to one side. Before he was able to find Azriel he grabbed the guard by the back of his neck and twisted until he was lifeless in his arms. Azriel threw the male down on the floor entering the room. When his eyes landed on you the bond hummed to life in his chest. His protective instincts to get you to safety practically blinding him with rage. The last guard would be the one to unfortunately take the brunt of that anger.

Azriel punched, and punched, and punched until the sound of you crying out his name brought him back to his conscious self. Unable to hold your tears back you broke down. Azriel made his way over to you, picking you up bridal style. “It’s ok. It’s ok baby, I got you. We’re gunna get these off you when we get home, ok.” You nod vigorously against his chest as you were unable to get a word out thanks to your hysterical tears.

Before he could leave you pulled on his leathers for him to wait. With renewed adrenaline rushing through your body you fumbled your way around the work table. Your hands messily picking up a leather strap, the cloth, and stacked the two pieces of the sword on the cloth. You wrapped them up tight and clutched it to your chest. You turn to Azriel waiting for him to pick you up again.

Grabbing you he hurries back down the hall. You toss the wrapped up sword to Cassian for safe keeping as you all fled from the Forest House. Eris was no where in sight. You assumed he went to stall his father before he noticed you were missing.

Sunlight blinded you. Before your eyes could adjust darkness surrounded you and the world fell away. The salty air blowing off the Sidra pierced your nostrils, the sound of wings flapping calmed you as they slowly brought you to the house of wind.

Azriel fell to his knees on the marble floor. His warm scarred hands cradling your face as he rested his forehead against yours. He apologized over and over for not knowing you were gone. For leaving you as Beron’s prisoner for so long.

Rhys gently removed the cuffs from your wrist. You flung your arms around Azriel, telling him it was ok. That you’re safe with him now. Pulling away from him slightly you looked into his tear filled eyes. “I’m ok Az. You got me.” Your mate gives you a tight lipped smile, closing his eyes to force the last of his tears out. “I got you.” He whispered back.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel x y/n

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senditcolton · 1 year ago

Text

If You Want It Done

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight.

song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1k warnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely.

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,�� he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

#nicole writes #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei smut #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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k1sse-s · 4 months ago

Text

TASHI DUNCAN

I’m going to strangle you.

› summary: she makes you hate her a little less after accidentally meeting you on the court.

! warnings: fem!reader, smut, no use of y/n, sex on the court/public place, fingering, obsessive!tashi, cursing, dirty talk.

Please let me know if I forgot something! ˎˊ˗

› wc: 1.5k

Your Wilson racket almost slipped away from your hand when you heard that weirdly familiar whistle behind your back. You didn’t turn your head around out of pure curiosity, no, there was also sense of irritation that made you do it. Because you knew that whistle damn well, and you knew from who it was from.

Tashi Duncan. And her cocky, irritating, arrogant twist of her lips.

“You should wear that skirt more often.” She said shamelessly. Eyes narrowing to get better view of your shiny, tanned legs and the way the muscles of your calves were flexing, making flawless collaboration with the sun that hit your skin. Tashi wasn’t even trying to pretend she’s not attracted to you.

But you had your pride, didn’t you? You had to ignore her just because how insufferable she was in your eyes.

Literal imagine of narcissism.

And you couldn’t stand her nor the way she was mercilessly scanning you from behind. Letting out a soft groan of disappointment when the wind didn’t blow your tennis skirt high enough to give her a good look at your ass.

“Solo practice?” She said sarcastically, pushing her tennis bag off her shoulder, letting it hit hard surface of the court.

She just had to put her gear next to yours, otherwise it wouldn’t be Tashi.

“Yeah.” You gave her unbothered scoff, your fingers intently following the strings of your racket as you walked forward onto the court.

“Should’ve known you’re here to play with yourself.” Her bottom lip going between her teeth while she teased further, riling you up.

Oh how she loved doing that.

“Fuck off.” You mumbled to yourself as Tashi’s lips slowly twitched into a smirk that grew only wider as you positioned yourself to serve. She watched you focused on the game, clueless of her gaze lazily moving along your slim legs, clearly enjoying how your little skirt lifted with your movement.

“Your footwork is a joke.” Playful sarcasm in her voice as her eyes dropped to her own racket. Both of you knew there’s nothing wrong with your footwork. It was amazing. Fabulous even.

“Try this.” She positioned herself next to you, her thumb moving with the fur on the green ball that was in her fingers. You took a look at her racket. There’s no doubt about it, Tashi only accepts the very best when it comes to her equipment.

And it fills you with pure envy. The only thing that goes in your mind while watching her serve is how you want to whip the racket from her hands and smash it against the court.

“I know how to serve.” You almost snapped at her. Why she was still trying to prove she’s better than you? She played more matches, had way more awards than you. Everyone knew no one can compare to her.

Everyone except you. Because you knew you can be better.

“I never said you don’t.” She has to stop herself from letting out a scoff at your exasperated tone. Instead, she let’s her dark eyes glance at your flexing thighs, toned arms, then back to your face. Still annoyed that your damn skirt was in the way.

It was always in the way.

It was almost unfair how hot you are, how effortlessly you make her bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from licking the sweat from your abs away. But oh God, she wants to have a taste. “You just suck at it compared to me.”

“Fuck you, Duncan.”

“You wish.” Irritation appearing in her voice as she grabbed your arm and forced you to face her. The pressure of her fingers digging into your muscles felt amazing. “Watch your mouth, princess, because it will get you in trouble.”

Tashi was clearly pissed by your attitude now, which caused a lot of confusion, some of frustration and shock in you. She never acted like this. Usually you could curse at her and she’ll give you even more vulgar response. And this? This made you speechless. Not even a word could leave your dry throat.

“Are you gonna do this every time I try something, huh? Pushing me away like you can’t stand me looking at you?”

“You think you’re better than me?” You argued further, despite the obvious dominance she had over you because of the tight grip on your arm. “You think I’m not?” Tashi chuckled, leaning forwards a little to close the remaining space between you two. Her front brushing against yours.

“I’m going to strangle you—“ That’s all you managed to whisper through your gritted teeth before she pushed you onto her body. Her full lips immediately found yours and the lack of your protest revealed about what you were thinking at night while trying to sleep.

She’s completely and utterly melting against you, her hand shakes as it comes to cup the back of your head and pull it towards her, tugging you closer as she deepens the kiss, lips hungrily seeking for more. Her tongue moves against yours in heated and such intimate way, she feels unable to stop the low whine slowly leaving her throat.

She’s showing how desperate she is for you, how she craves you. And no matter how many things she wants to do to you right now she still can’t resist the thought of being ruined by you.

She takes the advantage to press you to the fence of the court, trapping your body between the cold surface and her heated body.

“You greedy bitch.” You pushed her face away from yours, only to get a better access to her neck. Your swollen from the kiss lips carefully following her sharp jaw as her hand skillfully slipped under the hem of your skirt that she wanted to take off so bad since she first saw you in it.

Her fingers moving inwards, to your sensitive lips without a warning, forcing a soft moan out of you. “Greedy?” She repeated after you, panting. “Huh, princess?” Tashi whispers into your ear, her finger circles your hard nub, making your body shudder.

Your lips parted, ready to give her another answer, full of attitude, but the only thing that left your mouth was a sharp groan that was muted by her skin, the sound vibrating in Tashi’s shoulder.

She was more than grateful it’s her fingers, that it’s her making you feel like this, and not anyone else. She loves it. She lives for it.

She fights with herself to not let out a sound of pleasure herself as she feels how wet she has got you. Her free arm wrapping around your waist to steady your shivering body as her middle finger circles your hole, not entering. “See? You can be good.” Hot breath met your ear once more, the feeling sending shivers down your spine. “That’s it, just like that.”

The fact you let her have you like this, take care of you, touch you like this and make you feel good — it’s more than she have ever wanted. She can’t resist the urge to push her fingers inside you, she feels almost obligated to remind you that it’s her, it’s Tashi Duncan that is touching you like this right now. And you moan when you think of that.

“Take it, take it all.” She whispers as her fingers dip inside you, the feeling of your slick walls clenching around her fingers, trying to get used to the stretch she just gave you is making her groan out loud. It’s like you’re perfect for her. Only her.

Your noises caused by the pleasure she was giving you are like honey to her ears. It almost makes her regret that she doesn’t see your expression now — eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted, because there’s no point in closing them — she’ll make them open again in a second. Subtle, pink blush spread perfectly across your cheeks. She could only imagine how lovely you looked.

Her fingers were busy with going in and out of your hole, meanwhile her thumb moves to brush against your clit, just to give you a little sensation. Her smirk widened in satisfaction when she heard your moans growing louder, fingers pushing all the way in only to leave in another second. “Look at you, taking me so well.” She praised, wanting to draw out more of those beautiful noises from your lips. She haven’t noticed with what pressure she’s pressing you onto that cold fence, the sides of the wires digging into your back, but the euphoria is not letting you feel any kind of pain right now.

Oh you’re going to be sore tomorrow.

Her lips met your neck, her tongue licking the sweat on your body while her fingers were still busy with your needy hole. Before you could beg her to let you cum you already reached the edge, and she guided you perfectly through the sudden feeling of relief that hit your shivering body. “Good girl.” She murmured against the nape of your neck, her own breath heavy and uneven.

“I’m going to strangle you.” Your lungs seeking for oxygen with desperate need, tongue wetting your lips while your own hand moved towards the hem of her shorts.

“Go ahead, pretty girl.”

#wlw #tashi duncan #challengers #smut #tashi donaldson #tashi x reader #tashi challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #wlw post

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happy74827 · 1 year ago

Text

Work Jitters

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Getting the job at Graves Industries was hard enough, but keeping it? That was a whole new ballpark.

WC: 3752

Category: Slight Hurt, Slight Fluff (?), Gideon being… Gideon {TW—Vomiting}.

Jason Schwartzman, my beloved.

『••✎••』

Gideon Graves, that smug bastard.

You'd seen his picture in the paper once, or maybe more than once; you couldn't recall exactly. The article was about his company, about how he'd been awarded several "big brain" awards in the past three years, and about how his company was looking to hire the best and brightest. The article even said how much he valued diversity.

But then, why was he working so hard to keep you from the job?

It wasn't as though you were the most unqualified person in the world to be hired at G-Man Media. You'd worked in tech for a number of years. You'd worked hard. You were smart, and you had experience. But apparently, Gideon Graves had a way of making things difficult for you. He was looking for people who were more than qualified.

"But I'm plenty qualified," you'd told him, practically stomping your foot. "And you can't make me feel like I'm not qualified. You don't have that kind of power."

You'd watched in utter amazement as he'd waved his hand dismissively at you.

"Power?" He laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I have no power over you. I have influence. I can make life difficult for you, but it's not as though I'm doing that. You've simply failed to impress me."

Your cheeks burned as you tried to think of something clever to say to that, but there was no way to deny his words.

He didn't even sound angry. He sounded so sure of himself, so absolutely positive of his own superiority. And he'd been so smug about the whole thing, too. Like you were a piece of trash, he'd just found on the street.

And that had just pissed you off so badly. You were usually a fairly even-tempered person. But when you'd walked away from that meeting, you'd felt like you were about to burst out of your skin. You'd marched straight back to your car and driven to a nearby grocery store parking lot. You'd climbed out of the car and put your hands on the hood, pressing your forehead against the warm metal, letting yourself take a few deep breaths to try to calm yourself down.

And that was how you'd met Gideon Graves…

Your boss.

Yes, boss. Despite the fact that he openly admitted his dislike for you, you decided that he was wrong, so wrong, in fact, that you stormed up to him the next day and told him so.

"I'm not failing to impress you," you told him, "You’re failing to impress me.”

You'd watched him fold his arms over his chest and scowl at you. You'd wanted to bite your tongue. He'd had an intense scowl.

But you hadn't bitten your tongue. Instead, you'd done something even more stupid.

"I know how to work a computer," you snapped.

That wasn’t as hard-hitting as you'd intended; it was honestly the stupidest thing you have ever said, but it made that tiny corner of Gideon's lip turn up. Not his usual, knowing smirk, but an actual genuine smile.

"Oh?" he said, leaning back in his chair, tilting his head back and studying you, his eyes narrowed. "That’s one impressive skill set."

Sarcasm. You could deal with sarcasm. You'd dealt with sarcasm in college. Sarcasm was almost your best friend at this point.

"I'm a quick learner," you told him, "and I can work anything with a keyboard."

He laughed again, his smile growing. You were starting to think he just smiled when he was mocking people, but there had been times when his smiles had seemed more genuine, and this one had definitely felt genuine.

"I'm sure you are," he told you, and you felt yourself smile just a little bit when he didn't say it in a mocking tone. "But there's a little more to the job than that."

"I can do the job."

His eyes narrowed, and you were pretty sure he was trying to decide if he wanted to fight you. He leaned forward, placing his arms on the desk.

"What makes you think that you have any chance of winning this position? I told you once, and I’m telling you twice. You're not all that impressive."

"No," you agreed, "not compared to you. You're an idiot savant—a genius with a cocky attitude. But the company isn't looking for an idiot. They want someone with ambition. And I have it. I'm not giving up."

"No?"

"No."

He sat back in his seat, leaning back in his chair, a little smug smile curling his lips.

He was deep in contemplation. His eyes were on you. His face was an inscrutable mask, but his eyes. Those eyes of his. You felt as though he could see straight through you. He had seen you and known, without having to be told, that you weren't like the rest of his previous employees. That you were determined and that he wasn't going to be able to stop you.

He might not like you, but he recognized that you were going to keep trying to get the job and that you were probably the only person in the world who wasn't intimidated by his smug attitude.

"You have balls," he said.

"Thank you."

"No," he said with a frown, "that wasn't a compliment."

He shook his head and held out his hand. You glanced at it and then back at his face.

"A deal," he told you. "One week. You go to work, and you try your damnedest to impress me. Fail, and you’re gone. Pass, and you'll get the job. Deal?"

Your smile was wide, and you reached out and took his hand, giving it a shake.

"Deal," you said.

And here you were, nearly two weeks later, still with the job. You were honestly so impressed with yourself.

It wasn't always easy; Gideon Graves could be a real bastard. But he was an interesting person. He always looked so sure of himself, but there were moments where you could see his doubts. You could see them on the rare occasions when he was surprised or flustered. His confidence was sometimes only a mask for the uncertainty underneath.

He was an enigma to you.

You tried to learn as much about him as possible. You absolutely hated his attitude, but you were more than willing to admit to yourself that you were genuinely curious about the man. There was just something about him that made him fascinating to you. You wanted to know what was going on inside that complicated head of his.

So, you watched.

You watched as he ate lunch. You saw how he would never take more than two bites and would only take the smallest possible amount of time to eat. He never left a single crumb on the table, never let anything get near him that might leave even the tiniest bit of food on his clothes.

You saw how he would do his own filing and paperwork. He could type up a report in no time at all. And you could swear you'd seen him go through a pile of paperwork and not so much as lose his place once. You'd tried to copy his speed a few times, but your fingers were just too clumsy. You were nowhere near his skill level.

You watched how he handled people. He was arrogant, and he had his share of asshole moments, but he was always polite. Always professional. Even if the person he was speaking to was an idiot, he still managed to maintain his composure. Sure, he belittled them, but he did so in a way that was still professional. He never made any comment that would get him sued.

He never let his composure slip, except for one time, and It was all your fault.

You felt sick. You had woken up that morning with a headache and a body that felt like lead. It had taken you forever to get out of bed. By the time you had gotten yourself together and had managed to drag yourself to the shower, you'd felt even worse. But, with how Gideon acted, you were used to getting your work done regardless of how you were feeling, so you'd gotten dressed and headed to the office.

A total of four hours later, you were starting to regret not staying home.

You were doing your best to keep your eyes open, but you just couldn't stay awake. Your mind felt fuzzy. Your body was like a heavyweight. And all you could think about was going back to your apartment and crawling into bed. You could feel your body leaning forward.

The chair tipped, and your body rolled forward, nearly falling out of the chair, only stopping when you hit the edge of the desk.

And then there were hands on you.

Gideon's hands.

He had you, his arm under your shoulders, holding you against him as he straightened the chair.

"Office. Now. Before you hurt yourself," he said, his voice cold, his expression hard.

You stood up, but your head spun. You might have been able to fight it if he had actually helped you to your feet, but instead, he let go of you, watching with a frown as you wobbled back and forth before turning around and starting for the office.

Your feet felt heavy. Your body felt as though it was moving in slow motion. You stumbled a few times before making it into the room. He came in after you, closing the door behind him. You saw him scowl at you before walking to his desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you.

"So much for impressing me."

"Sorry," you said, slumping in the chair across from his desk. You could feel your eyes drifting closed. You couldn't help it, but you knew it was because you were so tired.

"I pay you to get your work done, not to go to sleep on the job. I don't care how sick you are. This is unacceptable."

You wanted to tell him you were sorry, but your mouth wouldn't move. You were just too tired.

"Do I have to drag you out of this chair myself?"

You managed to open your eyes and look up at him. You tried to say something, but all that came out was a mumble.

He frowned, his lips a tight line. He pushed off of the desk, and then he was moving towards you. Your stomach lurched as he reached down, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you up. Your legs wobbled underneath you. His hand was at your elbow.

"Careful," he said, keeping his grip on you until you had straightened up. "You took this job knowing that it would require effort. I will not have you losing sight of what you're doing because you're too lazy to get out of bed in the morning."

"I-”

Then, the worst thing imaginable happened. Just as he was threatening to fire you, your stomach lurched again. But instead of it just being your stomach, this time, it was the entire digestive system as a whole.

It wasn’t until his release on your arm, the wave of nausea subsiding and your head spinning so hard that you could barely stand, that you realized what had happened.

You just puked all over your boss.

You looked at him in horror. His white suit and red shirt were completely covered in a disgusting mix of stomach fluids and coffee. This was where you saw him break. His normal, professional demeanor vanished, and his eyes grew wide, his jaw-dropping.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. But then his eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened, his lips pursing together. He was shaking from head to toe. You couldn't tell if he was angry or if he was disgusted.

"Out," he hissed, his voice quiet but venomous.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Get the hell out.”

You nodded and quickly did as you were told.

Great, not only did you ruin a suit that was probably worth more than your apartment, but you managed to piss off Gideon and get yourself fired. The job you fought so hard for was just thrown out the window in an instant. You didn't blame him. If you were him, you would have fired you too.

It was a long drive home. You were still feeling sick to your stomach, but now it became more like the feeling of a hangover than actual illness. Your headache had subsided a bit, but you felt achy all over.

You pulled up in front of your apartment complex and climbed out of the car, feeling like you were made of lead. You stood there for a moment, leaning against your car, waiting for the feeling of your body to return to normal. When it finally did, you headed inside and took a quick shower before crawling into bed, not even bothering with any dinner.

Your last thought was how Gideon Graves had looked when he realized you had puked on him. You wondered if he was okay. You tried not to think about it, but his expression kept coming back to mind, over and over. He'd looked like he'd been about to explode.

Again, understandably so. But even though you'd done your best to forget it, the memory just wouldn't leave your mind.

The incident became a week’s memory, but you still couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face. About the fact that you lost your job over something so stupid.

It was another week before you saw Gideon again. Honestly, you weren’t expecting it.

Your doorbell rang, and you figured it was the pizza guy since it was just after five o'clock, and you had ordered some dinner. But when you went to the door, there was no pizza guy. Instead, there was Gideon Graves leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at you.

You glanced at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks burning, and then looked back down at your feet.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Don’t apologize. I don’t want your apologies.” He looked around, glancing at your apartment. "Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to keep standing there until you decide to ruin my suit again?"

You blinked, looking back at his face, but his expression hadn't changed.

You moved aside, letting him in. He walked past you and stood in your living room. His eyes darted around, and you could tell he was taking it all in. You had a tiny apartment, but it was nice; you'd worked hard to make it so. You had a nice couch, a few bookshelves, a TV, and a small table and chairs in the kitchen area.

"Well?" He said, turning back to look at you.

"I- What?” You asked, not knowing what to say.

"I’ve called you. No responses. I came to your apartment last week. No answer. And now that I'm here, you're standing there, looking like an idiot when I expected a fully functioning human being."

You blinked a few times, still not entirely sure what was going on. You cleared your throat.

"What do you want?"

“What do I want?” He scoffed. His face twisted into a look of disgust, his eyes narrowing at you, and his upper lip curling just the tiniest bit as though he smelled something rotten. "You ruined my suit, and then you left. You don't answer your phone when I call. Did your uncultured brain forget about the job you practically begged me for? I told you to impress me, but if you can't even be bothered to show up, I have no interest in continuing your employment."

You frowned, your jaw dropping open.

"Wait, I’m not already fired?”

His eyes snapped up to your face, his brow furrowing. His lip twitched as he fought to hold back whatever he wanted to say to you. The long pause had your mind shifting attention to him. The way he looked. The way he smelled. You took a small step forward.

"I... I thought-"

He was wearing a suit, like usual, but instead of the white suit with the red shirt, he wore a dark gray suit with a light blue shirt. The shirt wasn't buttoned all the way. He hadn't worn a tie, but he usually always had one, so you were a little shocked when you saw that he didn't have one.

And his hair. His hair wasn't slicked back the way it usually was. Instead, it was loose. It's not quite messy, but it's not perfect either.

"You thought you'd been fired?" he said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nodded.

He sighed and then shook his head. His hands made their way to his glasses, and you realized that his eyes had been fixed on the ground this whole time. He was staring at the floor like he couldn't even look at you.

"I would never fire someone for… puking on me. I’m not that cruel," he muttered. He turned his eyes on you, his fingers adjusting the frames of his glasses. "No. You're still employed here. I simply came to inform you that I'm willing to overlook this week, but the next one that you miss, you're fired."

"Oh," you said. “I- Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

He was turning to leave, and you had to wonder why he had come here in the first place.

"Gideon?"

He paused, his back still to you.

"What did you think I was doing?"

You could see him stiffen, and you had no doubt that he was clenching his jaw. But after a moment, he turned back to look at you, his eyes meeting yours, and you noticed that he had stopped chewing his gum.

"If I had to guess," he said, his tone sharp, "I would have assumed that you were either sleeping or still sick. I told you I would have you fired if you were too sick to work. The fact that you didn't even bother to respond to my calls and messages was more than enough for me to assume the latter."

“But you didn’t fire me."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you don't feel well enough, I suggest you stay home. I don't want to deal with your incompetence right now."

He started to leave again.

"Wait!" You called after him.

He stopped again and looked back over his shoulder at you. His expression was dark and foreboding.

"Do you... Do you need anything?"

"Need? What could you possibly-"

You interrupted him, cutting him off before he could say anything rude or condescending.

"I'm sorry I puked on you. I really am. If I had the money for another suit, I would replace it, but I… don't have that kind of money."

"It’s not ruined. I shipped it to be dry cleaned." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don’t want or need your apologies, nor do I need your money. It's not worth a thousand dollars."

"Well, what do you need?"

He was silent, turning his eyes on the floor again, his fingers fussing with his glasses again. His brow was furrowed, and you could see that he was struggling with something.

"Gideon?"

"Stop saying my name like that," he snapped.

He turned around and looked at you again. You blinked in confusion, and he sighed, walking back towards you until he was standing in front of you.

You've forgotten, honestly, how short he was. You were used to thinking of him as this giant of a man. When he walked into a room, his presence made him seem larger than life. But now, you were able to see that he was really a bit shorter than you were. He was a bit on the skinny side, too, not muscular or anything like that. But he still had presence, even when he was being quiet when he was simply standing there looking at you, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Why?"

You blinked again.

"Why what?"

He rolled his eyes, and his expression softened for a moment, just for a moment, before he got angry again.

"You're not supposed to sound so concerned about me. It's insulting. I'm your boss. I shouldn't need anything from you. That's why."

"It’s just a favor… If it will keep you from firing me, I'll do it," you said.

“Just show me you're not incompetent," he snapped, "that you can do your job without having a meltdown over it."

"Okay."

"And quit making me repeat myself. Just show me. I want you to show me that you're going to be an asset to this company."

"I will."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he was silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face. He sighed again, his shoulders relaxing as he did so.

"I need-"

"Yeah?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you going to interrupt me every time I tell you something?"

"Yes," you said.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but he didn't yell at you. Gideon just sighed, looking tired all of a sudden, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I need you to come in tomorrow. I have some… matters I need to attend to, so you need to handle the rest of the work."

"Okay. Can I ask what’s going on?"

His eyes narrowed again, his lips pursing, and you felt like you might have pushed too far, but you were determined to be better.

"Just show up tomorrow," he said, his voice a bit softer. He sounded less angry.

He turned again and headed back for your front door.

"Gideon?"

"What?" He asked, not looking at you as he turned around, his hand reaching for the knob.

"Thanks… for not firing me."

He looked up at you, meeting your eyes, and you were surprised to see that he was smiling again, albeit a tiny little smile, but he was smiling.

"Don't thank me; just get it together," he said, and he pulled open your door and left, shutting it behind him.

And you were left there, staring at your front door, wondering how the hell you were going to be able to do the work that he was going to give you and where exactly that damn pizza was.

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alittletaste · 2 years ago

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SKIN CARE & AWARD SHOWS

↳ In which Harry uses a face mask before the Brits and has a deep conversation with y/n

Warning: sweet sweet fluff and a little article at the end! Please reblog and show some love if you enjoyed, i appreciate it! Anyways, have fun reading :)

It was no secret that Harry took care of his skin, from the very get-go, the first concert he ever had to perform, the night before, he stood in front of his mirror applying his face mask. And now ten years on, he was sitting on his bed, his beautiful wife sat opposite him, slathering his soft skin with a layer of creamy goodness.

“Harry, stop wiggling!” She whined, trying her best to smooth out the cream all over his perfect face. Harry smiles, listening to his wife, but not before cheekily sticking his tongue out and licking her hand that was hovering over his lips as she applied the mask to his nose.

“Oi!” She giggled, playfully slapping her annoyingly handsome husband on his thigh causing him to let out a belly laugh. “God, you’re so annoying”

“You love it though” he smiles, “it’s why you married me” Y/n rolls her eye, as she works on applying the face mask onto his forehead. She appreciates the headband Harry put on earlier, to keep his unruly locks out of her way.

“Is this the pore cleanser one?” Harry asked, looking at his wife, he was in awe of her. To him, his wife was the most beautiful person to ever grace the earth. To him, she was his everything. Harry often finds himself saying that he would be lost without her, he wouldn’t know what to do. Apparently, y/n keeps his head screwed on, she grounds him and sometimes humbles him. It’s what a man needs, he says, someone to not only love you but to keep you sane and make sure your ego doesn’t inflate too much.

“Mhm, it also calms the skin, helps any breakouts. I know you get some before a show, so this is perfect” y/n says as she finally applies the mask to his chin. She knew it’d be a good time to bring this mask out seeing as the Brits were approaching. The Brits meant a lot to Harry, his whole family would be watching and as he was opening the show, y/n knew he’d hate for a breakout to start right before.

“So thoughtful” Harry hums softly and a smile tugs on his face as his wife pulls back, inspecting her work. “Done?” He questions, earning a nod from his partner.

“All done” she smiles. “Just got to wait until it hardens now” she says.

“Whilst the mask hardens, I’ve got something else for you that I’m sure would harden up in a second” he smirks, eyeing his own junk, and y/n rolls her eyes as she realises what he’s referring to

“God, you just had to go and ruin the moment, didn't you? You can’t help yourself mister” she giggles and Harry laughs.

“It’s hard to contain myself around you, you’re m’everything. Y’know that, right?” Harry smiles, tucking y/ns hair behind her ear as he tugs her over towards himself.

“Be careful!” She warns as Harry ends up on his back, y/n now straddling him. “Don’t want to ruin my masterpiece” she spoke, referring to the face mask.

“Oh no! Would never want to do that, what a tragedy that would be” sarcasm thick in Harry’s voice. It was one of the many things y/n loved about him; his humour. It was very British, but also very funny. To y/n, Harry was the funniest man on the planet, but she didn’t dare tell him that, why boost the ego of a man who had millions of people going crazy over him any more than it already was? To y/n, Harry was also the sweetest, the best thing to happen to her. He came into her life and made it so much better, God what would she do without him and his humour to get her through the day?

“You’re so adorable” y/n speaks, her hands on Harry’s chest as she took him in, some parts of the facemask were now hardening, like the part around his nose and beneath his eyes.

“That should be my line” Harry jokes, “but thank you, baby. You’re not too bad either”

“You’re such a meanie” she pouts and Harry reaches up to carefully pull her lips towards his own, there was no doubt that some of his face mask had transferred onto y/ns face but she didn’t mind.

“I’m only kidding baby” he says, pulling back, “I was serious before y’know that? You’re my everything, my most favourite person. Sometimes, it blows my mind, like I actually found my person you know?” He ponders.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it? I’m glad to be your person, I love you so much” smiling, she leans in for another kiss.

“I love you so much too, I’m happy to call you my person” Harry says, gently squeezing his wife’s side, happy that he found his lifelong companion and soulmate, happy that he knew he’d wake up to the same person by his side every day for the rest of his life, something he thought would once be impossible. You proved all his inner thoughts wrong and he couldn’t be happier.

And he certainly showed his appreciation when he won his four Brit awards, thanking you in each and every speech.

A CLEAN SWEEP FOR STYLES! HARRY STEALS THE SHOW WITH HIS BIG FOUR WINS

The former one direction star won all four Brits he was nominated for, including best album and best artist.

It was no surprise when Harry opened the show with his hit song, As it was, which later went on to win song of the year. Fans were, as expected, chanting the anthem back at him.

Styles looked absolutely amazing tonight, sporting four different looks for this occasion. Onlookers went on to say that although he looked absolutely stunning tonight and did have his fair share of jokes with the crowd, he made it quiet obvious that he is a happily married man.

During his acceptance speeches, Harry didn’t fail to recognise and shout out his wife, Y/n Styles, going on to say that she was his “forever muse” and that he would be “no where without her”

He also thanked his mum for pushing him to audition at x-factor, claiming that he “wouldn’t be standing here” if it weren’t for her. One thing we all know for certain is that Harry is a family man and we love him for that.

Even during his post award show interview, Harry was seen thanking his wife with a kiss on her lips before talking about how she was “always there for him” and this “album would be impossible to make without her” so cheers to y/n for these bangers.

He also mentioned how he was planning on “having a drink” so we hope he has a great rest of the night! A true champion like him deserves that.

#harry styles blurbs #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles social media

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sirensea14 · 8 months ago

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Smiling critters ,headcanons cuz this is n e c e s s a r y and for s c i e n c e

Kickinchicken is A S I A N because i said so/j. He's the greatest in sarcasm

Craftycorn is Scandinavian in my head for some reason

In school, Bubba is usually the one with the biggest bag and the ultimate supplier of papers. If there's a quiz, hands will be up to him asking "Can we have a piece of paper?" (This is way funnier in my native language than in english💀)

Bubba recites way too much, snatching away all the recitation chips, sometimes, teachers may ask him to substitute them for a bit

The teachers are, of course, Miss Delight and her sisters

Dogday is the president of the class (if only there were more critters lol, then he wouldve gladly taken the role) or the one shouting "Everyone! Quiet!!" when the critters are too noisy

Pickypiggy sits at the back, eating away her snacks and lunch

Catnap dozes off often, but when the teacher calls him, he can answer it correctly. Lazy but smart kid

Kickin only carries a small bag

Bobby and hoppy often gossips with each other. Bffs XD. Theyre also the girly girl and tomboy of the smiling critters respectively

Bubba is good at math and science but doesnt remember shit about history. Meanwhile kickin does better in that subject than he is in math

Bubba and catnap can be school rivals, but catnap doesnt really care (nonchalant)

Crafty, ah yes, crafty, our ultimate artist of tte group. She supplies crayons and pencils, so both her and bubba are the suppliers lol

Kickin can sing and dance, he and Hoppy can go on in a breakdance competition /j

Bobby cheering for hoppy while that happens

Dogday cheers for both (poor dog cant pick a side)

Crafty and dogday are great on writing essays

Pickypiggy x food canon yeah?

Crafty loves to share her original stories and works, dogday and bobby often cheers for her

Bobby, the ultimate fashion lover

Picky is great at home economics subject

Dogday is well on all subjects but notably physical education and english are his strength, i also imagine him to be good at electrical installation and maintenance (eim) tho this is a senior high strand and the critters arent in that grade level, so in elementary terms, he's the mini electrician of the group

Catnap is mostly asleep lol, he's most active at night and sometimes studies at that time. He also reads some of crafty's writing if he has some spare time at night

9 students are awfully few imo, i wish i could see more of dogday shouting at them to settle down, id like to see him in authority

Catnap's bag resembles a pillow and feels like a pillow

Dogday is their role model

Crafty likes to look at the window whenever there's a discussion of lesson

Most beautiful handwriting award goes to: bobby bearhug

Ugliest handwriting award goes to : me/hj im debating whether it be catnap, kickin or bubba lol

Best actress/actor: bobby and kickin, worst: bubba (he's awkward af)

Hoppy and bubba are left handed

While i write all of these headcanon, pickypiggy is eating in her own corner

Catnap would sometimes lean on dogday's shoulder if theyre beside each other. Dogday tries his best to not move his shoulder even if he's busy (like telling the group to be quiet, yes to dogday showing authority)

Thats all, thank you for coming to my little headcanon talk🗿

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #smiling critters headcanons #headcanons #dogday #catnap #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #bobby bearhug #kickinchicken #craftycorn #pickypiggy

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igotanidea · 1 year ago

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Essay : professor!todd x student!reader part 1

A/N: this is a completely new verse, I just couldn;t stop myself, so if you ever get ideas for that one I'll take them in a heartbeat.

A/N 2 : I was wondering whether to finish it here of give you more spice, but decided to just whet your appetite for part 2 ;)

***

Do you know how they used to call her in high school?

The unsullied.

Like in a freaking “game of thrones”

All because while her friends were partying, getting drunk and scoring, she was far more focused on her education and school work. And damn, that girl was sharp. Her writing and literature skills and instincts were something people would admire if they weren’t shallow and judgmental.

Instead she got the teasing nickname and all her peers treated her like she didn’t exist.

And of course it hurt, not having girlfriends or anyone who would even try to understand why she would rather spend her time in the library in the company of Shakespeare or Emily Bronte or Charles Dickens instead of drinking and having accidental sex. It was painful to admit that she never had a boyfriend or that she lacked experience in so many social areas. But she just clenched her teeth and pushed through, telling herself that she didn’t have to have all the answers at the age of 17.

She worked hard for a couple years and that got her a scholarship and entry to the college of her own choice. And while her parents and family were pushing her to choose something big, like New York or other big city, much to their surprise and displeasure, she decided to stay in the state and attend Gotham University.

“Why?” her mother almost got a heart attack upon hearing the revelations, choking on the fancy cake served at the tea. (one more word about the girl – she came from the really fancy, new-money family, where she never fit, being way to feisty and fiery. She could never be described as a lady despite her mother’s best efforts).

“Just because” she shrugged

“watch your tone, girl.” Her father warned “never speak to your mother like this.”

“sorry, sir.” She smiled apologetically, but it was meant more like a sarcasm then a real word of remorse “ Gotham has one of the best university literature program. And since it’s something I want to pursue….”

“I think we should let her make her own choices, father. Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Thank god, for her older brother, Tom, who always had her back. He was the only person she was going to miss when leaving. But he was right. She knew what she was doing. And Gotham did have the best literature course. And that was because of one of the professors, Jason Todd.

At the young age of 26, being only a couple years older than her, he managed to finish his studies summa cum laude and having a few awards on his account decided to dedicate his life into teaching and shaping young minds. Y/N couldn’t wait to attend one of his classes.

Yeah, college was going to be life changing for her.

Only she didn’t know how much when she first stepped into the hall of residence.

***

Soon enough she found out that first years were not supposed to attend Todd’s classes. Apparently something about heavy and mature content on different levels. To put it simply, no one below 21 were allowed to engage in those discussions.

But Y/N was sly and determined enough to sneak into the evening lectures, making notes to herself and being an original thinker she got so much ideas and inspirations just by sitting in the corner of the classroom and listening. It went like that for half a year and she believed herself to be clever enough to not get notices, but apparently professor Todd was even better in the art of deception. And it all started when she lost her notebook while leaving and figured it out on the way to her room.

“Shit!” she hissed turning around immediately and looking for the lost item on the way. If it were to get into unfit hands, in the worst case – dean’s – and her secret would be uncovered , she would be expelled immediately due to not abiding the rules “Fuck!” she whispered-yelled again, having reached the classroom and still not finding it.

“don’t creep there, miss Y/l/N, come on in.” Professor Todd’s voice echoed through the empty hall and she shivered. How the hell did he know she was there? And more importantly, how the fuck did he know who she was?!

“I’m sorry to interrupt professor.” She started “I’m just …. I mean, I…..”

“Lost something?” he asked, his green eyes meeting hers and it was like a spark of electricity through her. God, was he handsome. Only now, she understood the rumours on the campus, something about girls attending his course just for him, not really for the books and stories. Shit! She didn’t really have much opportunities to watch Todd while sneaking out and watching her every step.

“Yeah, I …. I mean, I…..” she stuttered “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even be here, and what I’m writing there is just stupid and …..”

“The only thing stupid here is that no one under 21 can join my class.” Todd laughed sonorously “come here, miss Y/N, please, sit, I won’t give your secret away.”

“You won’t?” hypnotised by his voice and eyes she took a few steps forward and perched on the first desk, out of instincts waving her legs in the air in a child-like manner.

“No. Sure not. I read some of your notes, forgive me that” he apologised quickly seeing the terror on her face “and those are good. Like really good. I don’t think I have such an original thinker here in like …. ever, to be honest” he smiled brightly “how old are you again?”

“almost 20 now.” She sighed in frustration. Here she was, sitting in front of her idol, unable to get full advantage of his knowledge.

“such a shame. Would love to know your brain more.”

“Can I just have it back and be on my way? I won’t bother you anymore, I promise I don’t want any trouble." she reached for her notebook, but did it so clumsily that it made her lost her balance in the process and she started falling to the ground, when her weight overbalanced the desk. She would probably end up on the floor, if it wasn’t for Todd’s reflexes. His strong arms found a way around her waist holding her tight, her hands locking on his arms and all of a sudden feeling safe and not so eager to leave.

“You good there?” he asked as their gazes met.

“Yeah…. I…..” once again the spark flew between them. Maybe it was just her imagination but she saw something predatory and …. lustful(?) in his eyes. “I… I really should be going now, professor. It’s late and after curfew and ….. sorry.” She grabbed the book from his hands, fixed her shirt and bag and rushed out the door.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he called after her and the girl spun around to face him.

“You can keep coming to my classes. Like I said, it’s a stupid rule and your secret’s safe with me.’

“Um, yeah, sure, professor, thank you.” She mumbled and practically took off running to her room, having absolutely no idea what was happening to her .

***

She didn’t get much sleep that night, instead taking care of the urge and itching between her legs, imagining green orbs and silky voice calling her good girl and a one particular man touching her. Good thing she had a single room with pretty thick walls.

***

It became pretty clear that classes were not enough for either of them. All things considered they kept it professional for a long time, only meeting in public places, discussing some teacher-student stuff, not really making any of the stuff suspicious. Apart from some additional rumours, nothing new on the campus, they were extremely correct and hesitant to do anything stupid.

But.

Literature talks and exchanging beliefs and ideas quickly led to getting to know each other on way more personal level. She learnt about his family, his adopted father and brothers and he got the whole story of how she was treated in school and why she chose to specialise in literature.

They were getting close.

Arguably closer than teacher – student should, but the more time they spend together the less they cared.

Soon enough their meetings moved from the classrooms and campus to the outside places. And from the days to the nights, always being careful not to get caught. But the urge and the sexual tension between them was making them slip.

It was only a matter of time before someone would lose the war of nerves and needs.

***

Since the dean was tuned in to everything that was happening on the uni ground, after a couple of months Todd was called into his office and had to some heavy explanation of why he was doing nothing less but hanging out with a student that was still under the legal age. Barely, but sill.

And with the natural ease and smoothness the young professor talked and talked about y/n’s talent and insight and how she was wasting her potential while waiting to be admitted to his classes. He used some pretty convincing arguments about the fame and reputation the uni would get if she becomes the exception to the rule and get the permission to attend despite her age.

And all that seemed to convince the dean.

Y/N was allowed to attend Jason’s course.

And that meant more time spend together.

***

“I almost forgot. I got your essays graded.” He stated one Tuesday evening almost ending the lecture, holding a bunch of sheets of paper in his hands and waving it around “as usual, most of you should have read between the lines, but apart from that it’s better than before. I see some progress to some of you.” He started walking around, giving the papers to the students.

Was it her imagination again or did he really brushed over her shoulder while passing her? If it was a dream she didn’t want to wake up, feeling that familiar aching in her body. God! She was still at class, acting like a horny teenager! About the teacher! That was completely inappropriate!

“That would be all for today.” Jason stated “class dismissed.”

“But….” She objected. She didn’t get hers back.

“As for you miss Y/L/N….” he trailed, waiting till everyone left “We need to talk about your thesis. But we’re gonna need the library to prove the point. Meet me there in half an hour, all right? Take your coat with you, the night is going to be cold.”

“but…. But it’s like 8 p.m.” she frowned “I thought the library was closing at 7?”

“I got a special pass. Now go, Y/N.”

Something was telling her that this was not going to be about her writing. And she couldn't wait to discover the double meaning.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #professor!todd

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average-mako-enjoyer · 2 months ago

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Back in June, I was doing the hug ask game, and @flyingwolf29 gave me a prompt with a panicked "I'm glad you're okay" hug, and I don't know what the fuck happened and how it happened, but that story grew to 8k+ words, and so here we are, 2.5 months later. Hope you like it, friend! 😅 Huge, huge thanks to @shepards-space-oddessy for editing and @unfair-water-plane & @gemsbokk for reading this thing, you guys are the nicest and deserve your own Star of Terra award.

Title: A Simple Recon Rating: M (for canon-typical violence) Pairing: mshenko Summary: Two human Spectres and one unlucky pilot decide to take on a simple recon mission on a nondescript water planet. What could possibly go wrong?

You can read it on A03

"I don't like this," Kaidan says and hears Cortez sigh.

It annoys him of course, but Kaidan is far more concerned with Shepard and the look on his face that Kaidan reads as "Of course you are": tenderness hidden between the layers of sarcasm in which he cocoons himself as usual.

"It's at least fifty years old!" Kaidan continues. "We can't be sure it works properly!"

"Well, let's find out." Shepard shrugs and, unsurprisingly, it looks nonchalant. It also makes Kaidan want to strangle him, but instead he pulls out the big guns.

"I'm not letting you go in there without backup," he adds and hears his voice wobble a bit.

Fuck if it sounds pathetic and unprofessional, and something he definitely shouldn't do in front of Cortez, but at least he's rewarded with the fascinating sight of Shepard's defenses cracking. For a brief moment, the look on his face is of pure tenderness, and Kaidan feels that change with his whole body. The triumph of knowing he is the cause of it rolls through him, but it's short-lived.

"Don't think we have a choice," Shepard says, back to business. "I'm the only one who knows how to pilot this piece of junk. And if we don't find whatever fried our engines and is still jamming our signals, we'd better start looking for food. Because, you know, after a week or so without it, you gentlemen might start to look very tasty."

"Shepard..." Kaidan sighs.

"What?" There is a shadow in the left corner of Shepard's mouth, the dimple begins to show, and Kaidan is weak for his dimples. He sighs again. This is exactly why you shouldn't sleep with your crewmates.

"I know how to fish!" Cortez suddenly interjects.

"That's the spirit, Lieutenant!" Shepard claps him on the shoulder and looks back at Kaidan. "Come on, Alenko, you're one of the best engineers I know. I'm sure we can fix this thing. Just tell me and Cortez what to do."

"This is about your life…" Kaidan says, knowing full well that he has already lost.

"And I trust you with it," Shepard says in his private 'John' voice, because that's how he is, even Kaidan's complete defeat is not enough for him.

#mass effect #mshenko #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #my stuff #my writing

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choidaisy · 10 months ago

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⊹ ⋆｡˚ . ˚✧ . ⊹ ⋆｡˚ DAISY SCENARIOS ! #2

where the members tease dk because he was jealous of daisy's romantic partner

The hotel room was permeated with tension that became palpable as the manager entered, announcing firmly, "We're leaving in an hour." Everyone was there to support the female member who was getting ready for a solo commitment.

"You're not ready, Seokmin... Oh, I forgot, today you're not her partner," Jeonghan needled, his tone dripping with venom echoing through the room.

DK couldn't help himself, rolled his eyes, and let out a theatrical sigh. "Very funny," he retorted, his sarcasm cutting.

"You guys are so teasing," commented Daisy, laughing to lighten the mood.

"And you still laugh," DK shot back, shifting his attention from his phone to her.

"Look what you've done," Daisy pointed at DK with a stern expression.

The makeup artist finished her work on Daisy. The singer stood up, twirling to check the overall look in the mirror. Her shiny dress reflected the ambient light, and her face displayed a mix of confidence and determination.

"You can argue later. Now, it's time to shine," the manager intervened, trying to dissipate the tension.

Daisy cast a meaningful look at the group gathered in the room. "You all are amazing. Thank you for the support, even with all this negative energy in the air."

"You look beautiful, Daisy. Your new partner will love accompanying you," Mingyu said, chuckling as he glanced at DK.

Daisy lightly punched Mingyu's arm and walked over to DK, hugging him and speaking in a playful voice, "Will you be watching the award show?" lifting her sparkling gaze to the taller guy.

"And do I have a choice?" he replied without hugging her back.

"Yes, you don't have to watch... But I'd love for you to send me positive vibes," she said even more playfully.

"You're going to win," he said, succumbing to her charm.

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're amazing, this award is already yours," he asserted, eliciting a smile from the girl.

She let go to leave, and then he held her back in a hug. "Good luck, and have minimal interactions with him, please," he requested, with a clear tone of concern.

While Daisy dazzled on the red carpet, the members at the hotel gathered to prepare snacks and drinks, eager to watch the award show.

With each new photo of Daisy posing alongside the actor she worked with, they made a point to show DK. He understood perfectly that she was there for work, and there was nothing more between them. However, something larger than him persisted, an uneasiness hard to ignore.

The event finally began, indicating that DK would be getting closer to the end of his torment.

"Wow, they look so cute together," Seungkwan commented when the nominees for the best couple award were announced.

"You know what else is cute?" DK asked, eliciting laughter from the other members.

The other and most important category in which Daisy competed was announced. The names and faces of the nominees appeared on the screen, and everyone nervously bit their nails, watching with anticipation. Daisy seemed nervous, but she couldn't stop smiling.

"And the New Best Actress award goes to... Choi Daisy!"

"I TOLD YOU!" DK shouted excitedly, the other guys celebrating, recording the screen to capture her speech.

"Quiet," he requested, approaching the TV to listen to her. The atmosphere became tense, and everyone focused on the emotional words Daisy shared with the audience. DK was radiant with pride, a huge smile on his face as he watched the success of the woman he admired.

"Wow, this is incredible. Firstly, I want to thank the drama director, Lee Sun-woo, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity to portray this challenging role. It has been an amazing and enriching journey that has allowed me to grow as an actress and as a person."

Daisy took a deep breath before continuing, her grateful gaze sweeping across the audience. "To the incredible team behind the scenes, you are the true heroes of this production. From the technicians to the producers, each one of you contributed to creating something special. Thank you for all the hard work and dedication."

She directed her gaze to her scene partner, a fond smile on her lips. "To Joon-ho, thank you for being more than just a coworker. Your guidance and support have been invaluable, and I have truly learned a lot by your side."

Daisy's eyes sparkled as she mentioned Seventeen. "To my dear members of Seventeen, you have been my constant source of encouragement and strength. Your words of encouragement propelled me through the most challenging moments. I am immensely grateful to have such an amazing group by my side."

Finally, she addressed the fans, whose unwavering support always moved her. "And, of course, to my dear fans, you are my constant inspiration. Thank you for being by my side, for your loving messages, and for all the unwavering support. Without you, this award wouldn't be possible. I promise to continue working hard to repay all the love I receive."

Daisy lifted the trophy once again, her eyes shining with gratitude. "This award is ours. Thank you all for being part of this incredible journey. Let's keep growing together!"

At the end of the event, Daisy gracefully navigated through the crowd, bathed in camera flashes and applause, carrying not only the glittering award but also a sense of achievement and fulfillment. With a sigh of relief and happiness, she finally had a moment to grab her phone and check messages.

Daisy swiped the screen, her eyes landing on a special message from DK. "I told you the award belongs to you. Congratulations, I'm so proud."

A comforting warmth spread through her chest as she read those words. She knew she could count on his support, but the genuine pride in his messages brought an even broader smile to Daisy's face.

It took about an hour for her to free herself from post-event commitments and finally access her phone. With nimble fingers, she replied to DK, sharing her joy. "Thank you for the support. I'll be heading over soon to celebrate. Can't wait to share this moment with you all."

Every typed word was laden with gratitude and affection, reflecting the emotion of the moment and the deep connection between them. The journey to the award may have been solitary, but she knew her members would be eagerly waiting to welcome her back.

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wintrcaptn · 1 year ago

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Wish I Loved You In The Nineties | Ch. 2

Joel Miller x Reader

Summary : right person, wrong time. But maybe you can change Joel’s mind.

A/N: It’s a slow burn with angst. Sorry. But I promise when it gets spicy…it’ll be worth it!! Lol I hope you guys enjoy! Would appreciate any feedback!

3.1k words

Chapter 1

Warning : age gap (reader is of age!), cursing, angst,

The next morning had been quiet for the most part. Joel made coffee per usual, and left the mug next to my sleeping bag for me to wake up to.

Even when he was pissed off, he always made sure I woke up in a good mood.

After last night, I definitely needed some coffee. I tossed and turned all night, not able to shut my thoughts off from the kiss.

It wasn’t making any sense. Joel was the one person who knew how to get under my skin. Even though I trust him completely, I never saw him in that way. Or at least I didn’t think I did.

But if that was true…how would that kiss hold so much power over me?

I must’ve had these feelings for him without realizing, right?

I sat in the truck, sipping on my coffee, with my feet up on the dashboard trying to think back at all the significant times I had with Joel.

There must have been a moment when things changed. But when?

———

(Flash back 3 months prior)

“Do you ever smile?” I asked, sitting across from him as I ate, book in my lap. Tonight I was reading Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time.

Joel leaned against a tree stump, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. “No.” He groaned.

“Allergic to all things happy?” I teased.

His eyes shot open and glared at me. Eye brows furrowing, showing disdain in his features.

“Can I ask you something serious?” I asked.

Joel didn’t budge. He definitely didn’t stop glaring at me to show how uninterested he was in anything I had to say.

“Why did the scarecrow win an award?”

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes once again. Relaxing against the tree. “Because he was outstanding in his field.”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You do have a sense of humor!” You exclaimed.

“Shut up.” He groaned.

Just as you were gonna look away, you noticed the small smile forming on his lips. For some reason, it made you feel good to know that deep down he did like you. Maybe not like you in a sense that he’ll be your best friend, but he likes your company enough to keep you around. And for now, that was enough.

————

(Now)

I looked at him from the corner of my eyes, feeling a bit awkward from the silence but also content having him there with me.

Joel focused his attention on the road. He had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held his travel mug. He’d take sips from time to time but not once did her ever look back at me.

It was hard to read him. And it was killing me. I just needed to know he didn’t hate me or regret the kiss because I sure as hell didn’t. I wanted more. I wanted him.

And that’s when it hit me…there wasn’t really a significant moment that made me want him…

It was the little things he did. The way he made me feel safe. The way he made me laugh with his sarcasm, which I knew he was just using to keep me at a distance.

For all the little moments spent together, the pot of coffee he made for us every morning, the reassurance of making sure I was okay. The little random books he’d bring back if he went out on his own or any extra pens he’d find.

He may have been harsh most times. May mask his emotions with anger and annoyance, but as I sat here I realized Joel had shown me he was someone I could trust in the ways he took care of me. Protected me.

“Did you hear me?” His voice caught my attention, forcing me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry what?” I cleared my throat.

“I need the map.” He muttered. “Never mind”

He pulled off to the side of the road and leaned over me to retrieve the map from the glove box. His scent grew stronger as he got closer, making my stomach flutter. And my legs clench together.

“Tryna see how much longer we got til we hit Wyoming.” He mumbled. “Still got eight more hours.”

He folded the map on his lap, and glanced outside for a moment. His silence made me nervous. Sure, joel wasn’t talkative to begin with but this was different. And it was eating me alive.

“Joel—“

“Suns goin down, maybe we should set up camp somewhere close. Then leave in the mornin.” He cut me off.

In that moment, Joel put the truck in drive and drove deeper into the woods, away from the road.

My heart was pounding profusely sitting there in such close proximity. I had wanted things to go back to how it was before but there was too much tension. It was hard to even breathe.

“Joel…we should talk.”

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He said, not once looking at me.

“So I’m just suppose to pretend that kiss never happened?”

He shrugged. “Already forgotten.”

Suddenly, my heart shattered from just those two words that hung in the air making it unbearable to breathe. My chest tightened and tears began to well in my eyes.

“I wish I never met you.” I whispered, turning my gaze out to the passenger window, letting the tears roll down my cheeks.

————

(Joel’s POV)

“I wish I never met you.” Her words were soft spoken but her voice quivered.

I knew that I had hurt her. Hell, I felt the same pain the moment I said it.

But I know I need to distance myself. I have to. Ever since I met her, I knew she was someone special.

She took her free time to read. She held on to hope and the idea of love so much that she never let this world get to her. Not even when those fucking assholes tried to take advantage of her and could have possibly killed her. If I didn’t—

She was gentle, and caring, and deserves more than anything I could ever give her.

Not only was I twice her age, my hands weren’t clean. I’ve killed people. A lot of them. Some who were probably just as innocent as her and—

I swallowed hard, and tightened my grip around the steering wheel, forcing myself to shake the thoughts.

Even if I were to change, I’ll forever be haunted by these memories.

Pulling up to a clearing. I parked the truck and quickly climbed out, letting the fresh cool air hit against my face. I finally let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“I’ll keep watch tonight.” Her voice said, pulling me back to reality.

“Nah, that’s alright. You get some sleep—“

“I did last night.” She cut me off. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Look, I got helluva shot compared to ya. If someone were to sneak up on us, I have a better chance at protecting us over you.”

“And if you don’t ever sleep, we are as good as dead.”

She had a point. It’s been a few days since I really slept, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired. But the thought of her awake all alone in these woods, while I was passed out…it didn’t sit right with me.

“No. I’ll be fine.” I stated.

Her face scrunched into a disgusted look and she rolled her eyes. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

“And you’re not?”

She grabbed her book from her bag and her sleeping bag and set it up in the back of the truck bed.

“Guess we will both keep watch tonight. I’ve had enough coffee to get me through the night.” She said, climbing up onto the truck. “Not like I can sleep anyways.”

“Do you ever listen? I said I will keep watch.”

“And I said no.”

We stared at one another, not once breaking contact for what seemed like an eternity. She had furrowed brows and her jaw clenched tightly. Almost a mirror of what I look like 24hours a day.

This wasn’t like her, and it definitely wasn’t something I was used to.

Sure she was someone who did what she wanted most of the time, but when I told her to do something like sleep, she’d do it without any fuss. And now she wants to fight back?

“Fine. Just don’t bother me. You stay there, and read your little book.” I walked over to the other side away from her but still in view. “And I’ll stay here. Got it?”

She only nodded and slumped down into her sleeping bag as she opened her book.

I sat up against a tree, my rifle right beside me as I watched around, making sure no one shows up.

A small lamp sat by her, illuminating her face just enough for me to see. Her gaze stayed glued on her book as she absentmindedly nibbled on her bottom lip. Something she did quite often.

Since the day I lost Sarah, I had no issues pushing people away. Hell, I even pushed Tommy away at some point.

I didn’t care to let anyone in cuz I didn’t want to feel anything but the anger I had since she died.

Then she came in to my life and suddenly, it took every ounce of energy to push her away. To keep my walls up. It was exhausting.

As I sat there, watching her carefully…studying her features like I were never to see her again.

It was hard to deny at times like these when the world was quiet and it was just us two under the same moon, the same stars…it was hard to deny how I felt about her.

No matter how hard I fought myself over it…or how many times I denied it…I couldn’t escape the truth.

She was in everything and all things in between. She took up every space in my head, every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

———

(Your pov)

I sat here, snuggled in my sleeping bag, trying hard to focus on my book in my lap. But it was useless. All I could think about was Joel.

Think about the way his lips felt against mine. The way his hands pulled me in closer against him. How much I wish I could go back to that moment in time.

My body grew hot from just the thoughts of him. It felt like I was being watched, at first I expected it to be all in my head but then I glanced up over at Joel across from me and noticed his stare.

“I can feel your eyes on me.” I said, shutting my book. “What’s your problem?”

Joel furrowed his brows and sighed. “Nothin, just read your damn book.”

“No.” I said feeling anger wash over me.

I know I wasn’t one to confront someone when I was upset, I usually shut down and hold things in but right now…I just couldn’t.

I got up and climbed off of the truck, making my way over to him. He propped up to his feet, obviously annoyed that I wouldn’t drop it.

But I didn’t care. I stood in front of him, my head tilting up too meet his gaze.

“Did you really forget about our kiss?” I asked, feeling a lump form in my throat.

“I ain’t doin this with you. Just leave it alone.”

“I can’t! Joel, I can’t.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from me. He mumbled something under his breath before turning back around to face me.

“I told you it was a bad idea. I told you not to mix your weird fantasies with me.” He said, voice mixed with anger and exhaustion. “I kissed you cuz you wouldn’t shut up bout it.”

Tears began to well and without a warning, they stained my cheeks.

“Why are you such an asshole?!”

“Why you such a brat?” He yelled back. “You never know when to stop. When to shut up. You just push and push and push. You’re nothing but a pain in my ass!”

I stopped for a moment, taking in his words. My eye brow twitched up and I couldn’t believe this was how he felt. After all this time, I thought he was slowly opening up to me but I was wrong. He really did hate me.

“Well, you don’t ever have to worry about me annoying you any longer.” I said, as I turned on my heels to pack my things.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like he had just knocked all the wind out of me. But I didn’t want him to see me weak. I didn’t want him to see that he truly hurt me.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” He asked following behind.

“I’ll grab my things and be out of your hair in no time.” I said.

“Where you gonna go? We are in the middle of nowhere.”

I just ignored him as I continued shoving my sleeping bag into the bag and my book back into the bag.

“Look, it’s late. Let’s just sleep it off and come dawn you can leave.” Joel muttered, shoving his hands deep into his front pockets.

“Why wait?” I threw my bags over my shoulders and slammed the truck door shut before turning to face him one last time. “Thanks for saving me that day. Sorry for sticking around, I just didn’t want to be alone.”

With that, I start toward the dark trees behind him. My heart pounded so fast, I could hear it in my ears but no matter how scared I was, I knew I couldn’t stay anymore. The more I looked at him the more I wanted him but he didn’t want me.

“Don’t be stupid! Get back here!” His voice was loud, and demanding. But that didn’t stop me from walking away.

“You don’t know what’s out there.”

“Guess I’ll find out.” I said.

————

(Joel’s POV)

As the tension met its breaking point, I could feel myself grow frustrated by the second. She refused to listen like always, the sound of her steps grew fainter with each one feeling like a blow to my chest.

I balled my hands into fists, my knuckles turning white. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.” My voice grew louder.

My feet had a mind of its own, stomping towards her. I didn’t care how stupid I looked right now. Fighting with the girl who I pushed away.

It didn’t take me long to reach her, but I didn’t hesitate to stop her. I grabbed her wrist and forced her to fall back into me.

“Let me go!” She demanded. But. I didn’t say a word. Instead I just stared at her with anger fueling me.

My jaw hurt from clenching is so tight, my nose flared as I scrunched my brows together. I was pissed. Beyond pissed. But I had no right and I knew I didn’t.

How did I even get here? When did I let things get this far? She was nothing to me just a little over a year ago. She has been nothing but a god damn nuisance since she came around and now I’m standing here wishing I could kiss her again. To pull her into me so close that I could feel her heart beat against me.

“Joel, you’re hurting me. Let, me go!”

I let go of her wrist, and grabbed her chin. Making her look up at me, fighting myself from kissing her. “Then fuckin listen to me.”

“Why should I?! You’ve been telling me to leave for months and now that I’m actually trying to leave, you won’t let me!” Her voice shook.

I finally released my grip I had on her. “It’s late, we are close to Wyoming. Tomorrow we will drive straight there and then we will go our separate ways.” I said. “You ain’t leavin here alone. I’m not gonna let something happen to you just because you dont know how to listen.”

“But—“

“Don’t cut me off.” My eyes were locked on to hers. The most I looked at her the more I realized just how screwed I was. She was seeping in between the crevices, she was getting to me. “Get your ass back to the camp site. Read your damn book and you do what I say when I say it…got it?”

I could see her take in every word before she nods in agreement.

“Repeat it.”

Before she opened her mouth, she quickly licked her lips. God, what I would do to taste those lips again. To feel them against mine, or wrapped around my—

“Do what you say.”

“Atta, girl.”

————

(Your POV)

My heart was pounding profusely, and so many different emotions washed over me.

I hated when Joel tried to control me. Hated when he talked down to me. But at the same time…I couldn’t help but yearn for more of it.

I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t think it was hot, but I had to try and shake the thoughts out of my head.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only staying cuz I’m too tired to fight off clickers alone.” I lied. If I were being honest with myself, I really didn’t want to leave Joel in the first place. Being with him felt so right.

“Sure.” Was his only response.

He made me sit in the truck and he locked us in together.

The windows fogged from our breaths and the cold air from outside.

The silence was loud between us and I hated it. Maybe he was right. If I would’ve just listened and not beg him to kiss me…there wouldn’t be so much tension.

But of course, I don’t know when to shut up and stop.

“Here take this.” Joel said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

He wiggled himself out of his jacket and placed it over me. “Maybe now you’ll stop shaking like a damn chihuahua.”

I looked down at his jacket over my body and a small smile formed on my lips. Pulling my legs up to curl into a ball, the scent lingering off of his jacket filled my nose…it made my stomach flutter.

If he really didn’t care about me like he says, he wouldn’t go out of his way to make sure I was taken care of…right?

“Thank you.” I whispered just barely loud enough for him to hear.

———

Tagging ;

@evyiione @joeldjarin @titabel

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou2 #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine

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