#but the way i wrote it was very corny and awkward

[whumper-whimsy]

god i love multiple whumpee situations where one whumpee is completely "trained" and eager and the second one HATES Whumper with all their heart

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

[froggibus]

Karaoke night with their s/o for Junkerqueen, Lucio, Mercy, and Venture? (I know you're getting soooo much Venture, I'm sorry, I adore them so much, I'm crushing so hard on them right now qq but I tried to include more people!!)

Karaoke Night - Junkerqueen, Lucio, Mercy & Venture

Genre: fluff w some crack

Summary: how your s/o would be when you take them to a karaoke bar

CW: drinking/alcohol, karaoke bar, mild public embarrassment, public singing, dorky ass ow characters

thank you for the req!! honestly this one was really fun to write & I appreciate you adding some variety to it ^^ i wrote this last night but work was so hectic i forgot to post it >~< hope you like it & that you’re having a wonderful day 💓

Junkerqueen:

she cannot sing for shit I’m sorry

probably didn’t know what a karaoke bar was until you took her

but she’s utterly fascinated by the idea of it and the fact people like it even if the people singing aren’t good

you probably have to surprise her by putting her in the queue without her knowing

she’s awkward when she first goes up but gets SUPER into it

chooses some fun sleaze rock song like Rock You Like A Hurricane and does dorky air guitar and stuff while she sings

has to announce to everyone that the song is dedicated to you too

drops to her knees at the very end and plays out the whole guitar solo with almost perfect air-fret/air-string placement

everyone loses their shit

she makes you go up with her after to sing free bird

the whole 9 minutes too oops

Lucio:

he is SO fun to karaoke with but also SO obnoxious

it was definitely his idea to go to the karaoke bar

probably buys you a couple drinks just to lower your inhibitions (so you’ll sing with him!)

while he’s comfortable in any spotlight, he accepts that you’re not (that’s what the drinks are for)

he signs you up without you ever knowing and when they call your name, drags you on stage with him

picks a super fun popular song & sings it with you

maybe a duet like Don’t Go Breaking My Heart or You’re The One That I Want

he busts out some silly dance moves while you’re up there just to help you feel more comfortable

he’ll start grabbing your hands and spinning you while singing

the crowd goes WILD for the two of you & people end up recording you

it goes viral online once people realizes it’s lucio oops

he has so much fun that he signs you up for 3 more songs >~>

Mercy:

she probably wanted to go to the bar just to watch

but after a glass or two of sangria she’s getting up on stage and grabbing the mic

sings a love song or a pseudo-love song, like Total Eclipse of The Heart or Dancing On My Own

she’s a totally good singer too

smiles at you the whole time and keeps pointing at you until everyone in the bar is watching you

she ends up reaching both hands to you and dragging you on stage after to sing a duet

if she drinks enough she WILL bust out some dorky dance moves (she LOVES the corny fake-rope pulling one)

again the crowd LOVES you guys even if you’re not the best singer

probably ends up going up 2-3 more times before the bar closes

Venture:

they LOVE karaoke bars however they’re too awkward on their own to get up and sing

get them a couple drinks first and they’ll practically be running up on the stage foaming at the mouth

they will do ANYTHING but they love cheesy 80s music and classic karaoke songs

not the best singer but they’re not bad at all

they do the little awkward side shuffle dance before they start to get into it

and then they bust out some CRAZY moves

I’m talking the worm, I’m talking break dancing—some WILD things

they’ll come back and beg you to do a song with them (but they won’t tell you what)

it ends up being something ridiculous like Tequila or something

and the two of you just stand there perfectly still until you say ‘tequila’

they’ll grab your hands after and pull you off stage giggling

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

if you like content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog ^^

[luvsunarin]

[ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader ] ෴ IN WHICH⠀your roommate tries to convince you to join her band.

warnings・CORNY CORNY CORNY. i wrote this at 3 in the morning and did not proof read or edit this so my apologies if it makes no sense LOL

wc・1.1k || short read lolz. p2 mayb!?

APART OF⠀⠀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. BAND AUS [ the collection ]

you laid on your arm chair in the living room with your head resting on the arm rest, while your legs dangled over the armrest on the opposite side of the small couch meanwhile your roommate sat on the floor in front of you while some of her band mates sat on the couch and some on the floor.

"c'mon y/n! we need a drummer, and you're the perfect option!" nobara pleaded you.

"look nobara, i'm truly flattered but i don't know." you sighed and shrugged.

"why not? didn't you tell me you used to be in a band in high school with megumi at one point?" she glanced between the two of you.

your eyes widened for a subtle second, "no? i never told you that." you told her and squinted at megumi.

"well then megumi did! he said that you were the drummer and that you played like no one else." she repeated his words dramatically which made megumi roll his eyes.

"didn't i tell you to not bring that up?" he scoffed.

"desperate times call for desperate measures." itadori reasoned with a shrug.

"well he's being dramatic. i really was an average drummer. our lead singer would always get mad at me 'cause i'd constantly fuck up during practices."

"yet you played flawlessly at shows." megumi added, staring at you intensely.

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"you rarely played good at practice but whenever it came to shows, you played perfectly." he said. "oh but ya know, it has been a while so i understand if you got even worse." a smirk formed on his features.

you raise an eyebrow at him and send him a brief glare, which he returned.

itadori cleared his throat and stared between the two of you who were staring very intensely at each other then glanced at nobara. "maybe this isn't such a good idea–"

"no, you know what? i'll do it." you scoffed.

they all went wide-eyed, "what?!"

"i'll be your drummer," you specified. "then i'll prove to fushiguro that i've only gotten better at drumming."

itadori and nobara's bright features dropped when you said that, "seriously? just for competition?"

"nah. she's just saying that 'cause she misses playing the drums. and she misses being in a band with me." megumi teased.

you scoffed, "in your dreams."

"yeah, i dreamt about it every night so much to the point it became reality."

your features relaxed and you adjusted your legs on the arm chair, "whatever."

"i'll let our manager know then!" nobara cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence that grew upon them and she pulled out her phone. "gojo'll be thrilled."

"seriously? megumi's dad is the manager of this band too?" you stiffled your laughter.

"he's not my dad–"

"yet he's changed your diapers more than toji ever did." you cut him off and shrugged.

he scoffed, "whatever."

nobara clicked on gojo's contact and pressed call. "gojo, you won't believe it!"

you heard gojo's muffled voice through the phone, "what? wait, let me guess– you got y/n to be your drummer?"

"yup! she said she's only doing it to prove to fushiguro that she's still an amazing drummer but i know that's bullshit." nobara whispered followed by a chuckle.

"i heard that kugisaki." you called out.

itadori rushed over to the phone as well, "yup, they probably miss each other a lot." he whispered.

"you guys are right in front of us." megumi pointed out.

the other three rolled their eyes. three because you just know that gojo rolled his eyes as well. "fine then we'll go somewhere you can't hear us!" they made their way to the kitchen and continued to gossip there with gojo.

which left you and megumi.

the silence wasn't awkward. the air felt stuffy but not awkward. however you broke the silence by asking megumi a question, "do you seriously think i'm the best drummer or were you over-exaggerating 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" you teased as a smirk tugged on your lips.

megumi clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, "are you seriously joining the band because you wanna prove to me you're still the best drummer or 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" he mocked you.

you thought for a moment, "neither. i miss playing the drums." you told him confidently.

"i'm heart broken, really." he said dramatically. "you didn't miss me?"

"sure i did," you chuckled at him. "i missed throwing my drum sticks at your head before a show."

"i'd always keep it in my pocket during the show for goodluck."

"aw, was i your good luck charm?" you mocked him and laughed.

"you could say that if it makes you happy." he rolled his eyes.

"nah, i'd rather think of it that you had my drum stick in your pocket so that you could always have a reminder that i'm putting you under pressure." you looked at him.

he laughed softly, "i'd prefer the good luck thing."

"i wouldn't. if i kept one of your guitar strings in my pocket, i'd pressure myself to play ten times better." you spoke, "but then again, you don't like being put under pressure. so i see why you prefer the good luck thing." you smirked at him.

he looked at you weirdly while a smile subconsciously snuck onto his features, "i'd put myself under pressure for you."

"gross," you looked at him with a playfully disgusted look. "that's corny."

"it was a joke asshole," he shook his head. "hey but didn't you notice that i played better with your drumstick in my pocket than when i didn't?"

"under pressure."

"whatever." he sighed. "i'm glad you joined the band." he told you, changing the topic.

you hummed, "oh yeah? so you did miss being in a band with me." you confirmed.

"whatever helps you sleep at night. you sleep deprived fuck."

you looked at him playfully offended, "sleep deprived fuck?" you repeated his words. "i can't believe you."

"sure y/n. remind me of how many hours of sleep you get?"

"too far buddy, too far," you joked followed by a laugh. "anyway, how have you been?"

"better now that you joined the band." he smirked.

"oh? so you really missed me?" you joked.

"yeah," he finally admitted. "i didn't just miss being in a band with you but i missed you." he added.

you stared at him, "oh yeah? i missed you too actually." you admitted as well.

"sure you did. wasn't i the reason you left our old band?"

"well now you're the reason i'm joining your new one." you chuckled, "you gotta quit doing that– letting the past interfere with the future."

he sighed in defeat, "so you did miss me, huh?"

"oh shut up." you gave in and smiled.

﹫heartshapedjewls' work! do not copy! || xtra words frm jules: im contemplating whether or not i should make a prt2 butttt idk... MORE BAND AUS TO COMEEE!! im so excited to write for star treatment 🫂. anyway have a good day yall, and stay hydrated!

[ryuichirou]

Which twst characters do you and katsu relate to the most or which match your personalities the most?

Oh Anon, you have no idea how excited I am about your ask… Because I already had the pleasure of agonising over this question a year ago, but Katsu didn’t! Now it’s Katsu’s turn to be uncomfortable and vulnerable! So I am as pumped to read this post as you are to be honest lol

I’ll still give you a TL;DR about my situation first though, in case you don’t want to read my old post: I relate to a lot of characters in for a lot of reasons (I think all of us do), and I definitely named a lot of boys lol But those who I have the most kinship with are probably Kalim, Rook, Ortho, Sebek, Azul, Lilia. I mentioned a couple of other guys in my old post, but they either have one specific trait that I find very relatable, or wishful thinking lol

If I had to pick three that I feel second-hand embarrassment from because of recognising some of my traits in their bullshit, I’d say it’s Kalim, Azul and Sebek. What a combination, I know. But my reasoning from the linked post is still the same….

But also! You know what? There is one addition to the list I’d like to make. I think it’s time to admit that I also want to strangle Trey from time to time because of how similar his attitude feels. I don’t think that I  as much of a people-pleaser as I used to be when I was a teen, but there are still moments when I catch myself thinking “I don’t even want to bother with that, it’s easier to give them a non-answer and keep my actual opinion to myself”. This + a bunch of other corny and stupid shit argGghhhh wait do I hate Trey Clover? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

Alright, I’m done lol Thank you for your question! Now for the Katsu’s part:

Katsu:

I’m about to make this post 100 times more awkward with my list lol There’s practically no difference in both of your description, so I’ll treat them interchangeably, Anon, as you probably intended.

I asked for Ryu’s assistance for these explanations because my mind went blank when I sat down to write them.

Also, I’m sorry I wrote so much 😱 I wanted to explain everyone to some extent and it seems I can’t shut up... I’m also very sorry if I sound very entitled. It’s surprisingly hard to write something like this, and I end up sounding like I’m constantly sucking my own dick with “look at how cool I am”. This is very embarrassing, please don’t read this post.

I’m a very generic bitch, so my most relatable/similar character is Idia, like he is for a lot of other people. He has it all: our takes on a lot of things is similar, including the nasty ones; apparently, we’re both good at reading other people’s character; he’s very cynical and has a negative outlook on life; the way we view certain things; our priority for quality time and spending it with those we care about; all the teasing and rude things that he does I actually do as well; our... ehh independence of our views?? idk how to say this better, just coming to conclusions on our own instead of taking the most popular option; Ryu thinks I’m smart (I’m not, and I’m especially not a tech genius and I’m actually bad at playing videogames), but I’d rather name it swings between “I’m a genius” and “I’m shit”, this constant desire to be as objective as possible even when referring to yourself while acknowledging subjective opinions when they’re unavoidable; our relationship with people is terrible in a similar way; the way he puts others down and then himself as well is sometimes word for word what I’ve said to Ryu for all those years we’ve known each other, so self-criticism; our love for art and anime in particular, though I don’t watch or read much anymore; his social... everything, his fear of interactions, his confidence in other people judging him all the time and thinking he’s cringe; his attempts to disappear and go unnoticed; the fact he gives up before even trying a lot of times. I can go on and on... It’s easier to tell where we’re different – I’m not that bold online, I just silently lurk; my internet slang is lackluster at best; I don’t play games that much and I’m not a huge fan of multiplayer games... which might seem nitpicky, but I consider it to be an important part of his personality. I feel like I’ve just tried to describe Idia instead of explaining anything lol Sorry

Jamil is also very relatable, he’s pretty similar to Idia personality wise (at least some of the qualities I mentioned), so I won’t repeat myself in terms of his personality. He’s also tired from everyone’s bullshit. Jamil’s desire for travelling and his love for calm times where everything around is quiet should be mentioned. He has to babysit Kalim, and sometimes I have to do something similar – nobody asks me to, but all this micromanagement that he does for Kalim like organising perfect conditions for him, making sure that everything’s right and being prepared to unpredictable events, although I’m not as consistent as Jamil in this regard. I’m the one to buy tickets, book places, come up with routes, make sure nothing’s forgotten, figure out at what time happens what, where to buy this and that thing, how to get to some place, and other things like that. It’s not like Ryu can’t do this stuff (except for getting somewhere, this bitch has no sense for directions), I just don’t allow it a lot of times lol We don’t want accidents. Ryu also sometimes gets praised for things that I do, that can be super annoying, that’s why I hate it when Ryu tries to brag about me.

Vil... gets a similar reaction from me as he does from Epel. I’d hate to know him irl, although a lot of points he makes are actually very true. He holds himself and others to a very high standard which is what I also do, but we do it in different areas. We both workout, although I’m nowhere near his routine or his diet, of course, but the discipline aspect of it is important. The most similar thing is our passion for True Art, the way we view it, the way we approach it, and the way we understand how audience works. Our love for cinema, I watch a lot of movies, but I’m not a nerd when it comes to them. I’m not a film bro- oh wait I actually am. The more you know. Also, all the movies Ryu watches usually come from me.

Ace – the entire first book, from the moment he got a cauldron dropped on him (before that I wanted to punch him). He’s somewhat chill, he doesn’t like anyone’s bs and he hates rules that don’t make sense. He’s relaxed to a certain degree (sometimes too much lol), and the things he appreciate in relationships (both friendly and romantic) are the same for me. Our love for fun stuff, to a certain degree for me though, but not the same level of irresponsibility, as I’m usually the one to chicken out and bail. Not always, though! Ace also gets a grasp of things quickly, but forgets them just as fast.

Floyd – the desire to tease/bully serious people is too strong 😔 Plus, extreme mood swings with losing interest, but these are not nearly as common as his. Sometimes you have tons of fun, and then a second later, in an instant, you lose the spark.

Malleus – we just like to wander somewhere... his love for ruins, but I’m yet to meet someone who doesn’t like them or their aesthetics lol His isolation, and Ryu says the way we say/ask/do things sometimes is similar. Also most based overblot reason ever (same for Idia and Vil though). I’d probably be able to point out his character traits better if we saw book 7, but that’s it for now.

Epel – he hates girly stuff lmao His toxic masculinity is relatable for my teen years, and the way his speech is impolite (in my case, I just swear a lot though). He’s somewhat of a slow learner and he cringes from doing cute and girly stuff.

Deuce – he is so adorable... ahem. The way he struggles with learning is relatable, and the feeling when you put yourself fully into something and still fail. I managed to get great/normal marks, but the amount of knowledge I actually have is laughable. Deuce is very earnest, me too, in some ways, but I’m not nearly as proactive as he is. I wouldn’t bother.

Leona – sometimes I get bored in the middle of the day and go to sleep lol Usually it happens when Ryu’s around and draws something, and we have only one desk, so there’s nothing for me to do. Leona’s also lazy. That’s the entire reason Leona is on this list.

[l0lita-luv]

it would be so cute if u wrote abt reader & ellie going on a first date, how awkward and nervous they both are 😭 but maybe they end the night tg, just pure fluff they watch a movie but ellie is lowkey too scared to come off as pushy so she just misses a million cues from reader that they want a kiss 😭

Stop it because this is so cute anon! Tysm for the request!

First Date

Fluffy!!

Nervous Ellie Williams x Nervous Fem!reader

warnings- use of y/n-Fem!reader-kissing

key terms- y/n-your name,y/n/n-your nick name, y/c-your choice

a/n- Took me a while but love how it turned out!

You and Ellie are both nervous wrecks on your first date!

Ellie’s p.o.v

You had been taking to Ellie for a while, she was super sweet and you had thought about asking her out but you were afraid of rejection. But you weren’t the only one! Currently, Ellie is trying her best to hit the send button but kept on thinking of the worst!

Ellie

Hi y/n! Uh I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?

She did it, she actually sent the message. She was contemplating whether to wait for a response or to delete it before you see it, but it was too late when she saw you were typing! She was practically dripping from sweat from the fear of rejection, the sun rays coming from her window not helping.

Ellie

Hi y/n! Uh I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?

Y/n

Hey Ellie! I would honestly love to, let me know where and when!

She stared at the message in disbelief, “I’m going on a date with y/n!��� She shouts out having no mercy for her neighbors ears, she smiles at the message for a while before quickly looking for a restaurant, she stops when she finds a pretty classy restaurant, she sends you the information and immediately gets up already picking an outfit for tomorrow.

You were the only thing on Ellie’s mind for the whole morning, right after she ate her breakfast she went to the bathroom to shower and do everything she needed to do to look presentable. After she did that, she went to go change, for once, she didn’t just wear some regular old pants and a plain shirt, she decided on a pair of jeans, with a nice flannel.

y/n’s p.o.v

“Oh my god what do I wear!” You yelled out frustrated, you had everything planned out except for your outfit. At first, maybe a nice shirt with a skirt, but you thought that was too plain! You were rummaging through every article of clothing until you found a pretty baby pink dress, it was off the shoulder, and had pretty ruffles with lace peaking out. “Perfect.” You think to yourself.

You went into your bathroom and did very simple makeup, and brushed your hair taking two front pieces and tying it in the back, adding a matching bow to complete the look. You smile at yourself as you start to feel the nervousness shower over you. “It will go great y/n!” You keep thinking to yourself. Checking your phone, you see Ellie told you she was only three minutes away, you hurriedly put on some white heels, along with your bag that contained your belongings. Before you knew it Ellie had arrived!

Hearing the doorbell, you rush to the door met with a stiffened Ellie, “Hi Ellie!” You manage to get out, “Hi y/n!” Ellie stutters out, you both endured a couple seconds of silence before Ellie breaks it, “So you ready to go?” Ellie asks carefully, “Yup!” You respond with a light smile, she nods as you step out of the house closing the door and following Ellie to her car.

“You look beautiful by the way.” Ellie manages to say, a light tint of pink covering her face waiting for you response, “Thank you Ellie! You look really pretty you know?” You say with a little more confidence, Ellie’s heart melts at your words and manages to whisper out a “Thank you.”.

The drive was pretty silent mixed with some of Ellie’s corny humor enlightening the mood. When you both arrive, Ellie is quick to rush out of her seat to open the door for you, “Aw thank you Ellie! You’re so sweet.” You compliment her, she smiles, “No problem!”.

You both enter the noisy restaurant filled with laughter and some yelling? Ellie goes up to the front desk, “Reservation name?” The waitress asks, “Ellie Williams.” Ellie responds, “Great follow me!” The waitress perks.

You suddenly feel a boost of confidence and reach for Ellie’s hand holding it, Ellie’s eyes widen a hue of red smothering her face, she smiles at you as you both continue walking to your table. “What would you guys like to drink?” The waitress asks kindly, “I’ll have a coke.” Ellie replies, facing you once again, “Uhm I’ll have y/c!” You reply smiling at the waiter. She nods as she writes down the rest heading to the kitchen.

“So uh y/n! What are you going order?” Ellie questions trying to compose herself, “I think I might get pasta or something like that.” You respond with a light smile, Ellie couldn’t help but stare at your features, “You’re so pretty…” Ellie mutters out, Ellie soon realizes what she said wanting to crawl into a whole and never come out, you couldn’t help but blush, “Thank you Ellie, your quite pretty yourself.” You stutter out. “So are you guys ready for entrees?” The waitress asks.

The rest of the date surprisingly goes smoothly, you both really enjoyed your food. “So will you guys like to split the bill or is one person going to pay?” “I’ll p-.” Ellie cut you off, “I’ll be paying!” She quickly responded handing the waitress her card, you frown at Ellie speaking as the waitress left, “I was going to pay!” You tell Ellie, “I asked you on this date y/n, plus I had a really good time.” Ellie responds, your face softening.

“So…” You try to start a conversation, “Uhm would you like to come to my house and watch a movie or something?” Ellie asks hopeful, “Sure!” You respond quickly surprised at her question. “Great.” Ellie responds smiling, you smile back. You both make your way to the car silence filling the air, when your arrive Ellie is quick to open the door for you once again signaling you to sit down, you lightly laugh at this.

The car ride was once silent again, Ellie’s door opening once you arrived breaking it. You smile as you hear Ellie hurrying to open the door for you, as you step out, Ellie closes the door and reaching for your hand. As you both walk into her warm home she’s speaks, “Uhm do you need any clothes?” Ellie questions worrying for you, “Yes please, this dress is starting to kill me!” You respond smiling. Ellie nods, “Follow me!” She exclaims leading you to her room. She opens the door welcoming you in as she goes to her closet, coming back quickly handing you an oversized band tee with some loose sweatpants, “Thank you Ellie! But where should I change?” You question, Ellie’s eyes widen before hurriedly responding, “Uhm you can change in the bathroom!” She stutters, you only nod as you walk over to her bathroom.

When you come back, Ellie is sat on her bed having a movie picked out. “What’re we watching?” You question, “Jurrasic park if that’s ok with you?” She lets out a little embarrassed, “I always knew you loved dinosaurs but that sounds good!” You respond reassuringly. She smiles as she pats the spot next to her, with you following.

After a couple minutes into the movie, you try to make some moves! Holding her hand, sometimes even caressing it softly but she wouldn’t get the hint. Even once when she looked at you, you tried leaning in but all she did was turn away! I guess she had no clue of what you’re trying to do.

Ellie p.o.v

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”, Ellie mentally screams at herself, “She just caressed your hand Ellie!” She thinks to herself panicking. She turns her head to you, “Are you liking the movie so far y/n/n?” She asks seeming calm, “Yeah Els! I really am enjoying it.” You respond. She notices you leaning in and out of panic she turns back to the movie. She feels you retract your hand from hers, missing your touch already. “She just tried to kiss you Ellie! Why did you turn away!” She thinks to herself panicked.

“Just do it Ellie.” She finally says to herself, “Y/n.” She says calling you, “Yes Ell-.” You get cut of by Ellie’s lips meeting yours, you smile into the kiss quickly following her lead. Ellie pulls away noticing what she just did. “I like you a lot y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” Ellie asks confidently, “Of course I will Ellie!” You smile, Ellie’s lips finding your lips once again.

wc- 1,327

[missdrummond]

Album 77 initial reaction final part

*spoilers*

Accidentally looked at the comments and saw something about buckles and a crying emoji, so I'm just going to make the prediction that Jules is converting to Christianity. Why? I don't know her last one, emphasized her being agnostic and I just want to make a wild prediction because it will feel nice if I'm right.

If I'm right though I REALLY hope they pull it off well and full consider the ramifications including how it will impact her falling out with Bridget. Who as of yet hasn't been brought up again. Also they better not pull a Eugene&Katrina arc again because I do NOT have the patience for that.

Mature themes! Oh, no Pamela was in the last episode they can't actually.... Mature themes. Not intensity of a few scenes. Mature themes. Let's go I guess

intro music was cool

wow, we haven't had underage drink since like what? Pokenberry Fall RFD?

this better be a good Connie episode, the last one was right on the edge.

da what???? What is happening?

And a VERY odd picnic specifically

You've been gone for like 3 months at the most Buck chill

"Picnics in the rain are fun" -Kelly and also me whenever Picnics are mentioned or it is raining

Score! Jillian & Connie!

Yo! Are they going to give that kid his comeuppance? I thought they were going to drop it.

Jillian being actually a pessimist is such an interesting concept in my head

What's with AiO and Giraffes? Actually that might just be Kathy

Connie is doing great switching mode!

Is AiO making the characters refer to it as "special water" just to get by censorship or what because it sounds so awkward and they didn't do this back in the 90s.

This whole scene is good awkward

Jillian switching is so fun to hear

Yeah, Jules this situation isn't safe. The drinking is one thing but on top of that the refusal accommodate and refrain for a single practice. Disrespect

Why is every date Kathy writes a picnic?

Jules! Not cool

Why are they in Madagascar again?

THIS! This is fantastic character writing! Everything here is so consistent with previous characterizations and just aaaak

Ok but you couldn't have talked about this before you got to the zoo or like afterwards? You just left that poor zookeeper hanging? Zookeepers have busy schedules and one made time to give you a backstage experience and you just left! Disrespect

Wait! I have to wait months for the next part 😭.

It's fine. I've waited though worse but oy! That was a good episode. Way better than Jules converting that would have been way too fast. I would be surprised if that was the end goal for this arc but she wasn't ready yet.

Also this was absolutely realistic for how their relationship would go down. Neither Buck nor Jules were mature enough to survive a long term relationship and honestly I'm glad they wrote just all of this storyline it's really well crafted.

That being said I also had a nebulous feeling of corny soap opera that I can't pin down if it's me being embarrassed for caring or an actual writing problem

Alright back to Chris

Chris wrap up was fine

Also yeah it was Kathy because who else could it be?

[electricea]

@demonsfate sent - did you ever play a breakup? ( Shipping Questions for the Mun - Accepting! )

25. Did you ever play a breakup?

Kind of? The idea was that our muses had broken up before and the sort of verse or premise of the ship, if you will, would be them finding their way back to each other - beginning from sort of awkward and tense reunions, to them gradually warming up to one another once again - like very much a slowburn and a corny reunion idea.

We never actually wrote the break up although I imagine we would have gotten to it because we did love leaping around and writing every little detail, although the mun isn't someone I'm in touch with anymore, so the ship is dead. Still, that's the closest idea I can think of and I have always have a soft spot for the idea of two people finding their way back to each other and falling in love again. Maybe I watched The Parent Trap too many times as a kid, lol.

[cosmic-light-fics]

Okay....

I don't know how on earth I am only just know seeing this post. There I was, mindlessly scrolling through sydcarmy posts that I've already seen countless times. It's late, like super late, I am almost embarrassed to say how late it is right now. I wasn't even on my computer, I was on my phone. But then I saw this post. And I read it, top to bottom. Then I rose from my bed, grabbed my laptop, and now I am here to tell you this. This needs to be said and I like saying things so, here's the deal-

You are talented. This post is golden. It's a Holy Grail. A highly coveted treasure. Discovering this post was like discovering the lost city of Atlantis, like recovering and restoring all the destroyed texts from the Library of Alexandria. I don't know which Greek Muse blessed you with the inspiration for this post, but I am promptly on my way to offer a sacrifice in thanks to said Muse.

Rarely am I ever left speechless. Rarely am I ever so so so so sooooooo impressed with someone's interpretation of characters. It's so hard to capture the same cadence of the characters that we see on screen, and I think that fact applies doubly for writers, especially writers trying to convey these characters from The Bear. They are all in their own way so complex and their stories are so interwoven, as well as their interactions and what they mean to each other.

This post is so special in a variety of ways. It's everything I love about the show. It's all about characterization. You nailed it. All of it. Sydney Adamu is such a special character to me, from her awkwardness to her assertiveness to her complete understated compassion for others. This post emulates everything that I love about her, and somehow gives me more to love, adds on to it, adds more layers to already muti-faceted characters.

I saw what you said in the comments, about not thinking you had a good grasp on characterization for the characters enough to write stories for them. I think you do. I think you have the best grasp on characterization. I'm being completely hand-to-heart honest. You wrote this post like you knew the characters like the back of your hand. All of them, not just Sydney. From their motivations, to their reasonings, to their dialogue. Don't even get me freaking started on the dialogue! This?!?!?!?!!?!?!

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

That was absolute fire, chef.

That dialogue brightened my day, cleared my skin, took me out on a date, proposed to me, opened up the heavens, let me see the universe, and reminded me of why I love this - writing and stories and fanfiction and meta. Reading this post took me back to my pre-teen years - like that scene in Ratatouille when that mean food critic had the ratatouille dish and it brought him back to his childhood - when the world of fanfiction was new and exciting and full of people just as passionate about fictional characters as I was.

This post is not me trying to push you to do anything. I am definitely not trying to pressure you into writing. But if you ever get the urge, if one day you think to yourself "Hey, that sounds like a good idea, I kinda wanna write that," and that little pesky devil on your shoulder says "Nah, you can't write that," read this post and tell that annoying a-hole called doubt that it can kick rocks.

If you ever decide to write anything for this show, let me know. I will be your number one supporter. I will root for you. Selfishly of course, because your writing is such a gift to me. So thank you for this post. It's truly, truly, truly amazing.

thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).

for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.

for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).

for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.

for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.

for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.”) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.

and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)

[moodys-art]

Uwaaa I wonder if that LS ask is about cheering a quiet reader and tried to make them laugh/smile (ignore this if not that one and sorry i set myself as anonymous), sorry if it hard for you, you can skip that one and do the other first ><

No need to apologize ! Your request was lovely, thank you for sending it in <3 I combined the two ideas together as they're similar. What I wrote is a bit general but I hope you'll like it nevertheless :)

La Squadra cheering up quiet reader :

Risotto

He isn't much of a jokester and is maybe too serious for that. Not that it's a bad thing, because he actually prefers genuine complimenting over your personality, looks, and pleasing quietness as well, if that's usual for you. He'd love to spend quality time with you, maybe chilling on the couch while watching a comedy, something that will make him hear your beautiful and precious laugh that his ears cherish so much.

Prosciutto

Good luck, because while he may be extremely good at comforting and soothing people, he finds making them laugh a bit more difficult. If he notices you being quieter than usual, depending on how close you are, he'll try and sit you down and maybe give your back a few rubs, before sitting back and checking in on you from time to time. He'll suggest playing board games with you and Pesci, maybe also getting lunch outdoors. You know you can talk to him about anything, right ? But don't ask him to make silly faces, though...He may try, likely ending up being mocked by Formaggio.

Formaggio

You know he's one of the best around here to make even the most composed people break down in laugh. He'll make even more cheesy jokes and dad jokes than usual, the type of humor that's either really corny or obvious. Formaggio will buy ton of candy if you can eat them, poke at your sides, mess with your hair, you get it.

Illuso

He doesn't like to be too obvious about cheering you up as he's a really proud and arrogant guy, but...you'll notice a few of your favorite snacks randomly appearing in your room, or next to your stuff. Illuso will deny any responsibility in this but the way he also tries to makes you laugh by hugging and tickling you at the same time will wash away any cloud of doubt in your mind.

Pesci

He's kind of awkward at this, but he knows what to do. What about watching funny pets videos ? Cats, rabbits, ducklings... Seeing you being quiet, whether it's normal or unusual, makes him wonder what you've got on your mind. He'll try to bond with you over video games lore, movies, baking pastries together. Like Prosciutto, he's not the best at jokes, but ideally knows what kind of things will make you genuinely smile, because he likes you and hence, is very in tune with you.

Melone

Oh, you're a bit quiet and down ? You need some fun ? He'll be all over you asking you these type of questions with a hand on your shoulder, or in your hair if you're closer. Calling you pretty names like 'bella/bello', 'sunshine', fishing for any hint of a smile or blush on your face. He might invite you to his room to chat a bit and maybe, if that's your thing, smoke some weed, or simply eat cookies in the golden hour while on his pop art carpet. He's very physical and his hugs are extremely passionate, so you will probably crack a smile.

Ghiaccio

Hm...Ghiaccio certainly notices that you're being quiet and need some cheering up only after staring at you for a bit, feeling that something is off. After processing it and thinking about what he can do, he'll either take you to nap next to him or to ice-skating. He may ask others what things you like and is really invested in talking to you and making you smile or laugh. If the last does happen as well, he'll be quite moved and flustered, working towards knowing you more and spending more time with you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!�� you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

its my first wild wednesday of my senior year of college!!!! im taking a film class this semester and the TA sucks, so i’d like to imagine messing around w your hot, frat boy, film major TA Josh (circa highway tune era). im an english lit major and the film bros at my university are the bane of my existence, but theres something about having a little enemies to lovers with frat boy!Josh that just makes me want to throw all my morals out the window…

As a film school graduate, I completely understand how fucking annoying film bros can be. Holy fuck the way they get PISSED if you say, "I just don't think Quentin Tarantio is a good writer." I used to do that just to make them mad lol

I'd like to think you and Josh would have to do a scene together for one of your classmates short films, seeing as they didn't know of anyone else to ask who would be willing to help out. Josh is boarder line decent to get along with when you aren't talking about film, but the moment someone brings up Kubrick you want to punch him in the face.

"Kubrick was an amazing director!"

"He got a great performance out of her-"

"Um, do you even know the bullshit he put Shelley Duvall through for The Shining?!"

"By making her stay up for days on end with no sleep, and gaslighting her into thinking everyone on set hated her."

"It's still a good movie."

"You're a dick." You roll your eyes as you look over the shooting schedule, the two of you rehersing in Josh's off campus apartment. Running lines with Josh was nice most of the time, he was a good actor, it shocked you he wanted to be behind the camera instead of infront of it. You on the other hand, were just doing a classmate a solid in hopes that they would run your audio for your short film. "This script is fucking awful." Josh whispers frustrated from trying to figure out a non cringey way to read lines from a wannabe horror movie. "Yeah, its pretty cheesy." You agree, flipping through the pages of bad dialogue consisting of clichés, corny one liners and awkward flirty dialogue that only proves the guy who wrote it doesn't really know much about women.

"So what's the plan here? Your character is the killer, predictable, and I'm the helpless victim, sexist, and you're taunting me with a knife that I end up stabbing you with, wow how original." You sigh tossing the script on to the coffee table, turning to face Josh on the couch as he writes in his script. "It really does need some changes." He agrees as he continues his scribbling. "What are you writing?" "Some notes on dialogue, I'm thinking something that flows more naturally than, 'Oh no, you were the killer all along?' Something a little more exciting." Josh explains.

Josh moves closer to you on the couch, "So how am I supposed to move, I go from having you against the wall, to you pushing me to the ground?" Josh asks confused, "Well, you could choke me and I could pull a knife?" You suggest, Josh's eyes light up, "Do you know how to be stage choked?" He asks, "No? Do you?" You answer curiously.

The two of you end up rewriting most of the scene completely, a flirty back and forth where the killer doesn't reveal his plot but simply distracts the would be victim with seduction, "And then I stab you in the gut, telling the audience that I figured it out when you referred to the very first victim in the past tense when no one else knew that they were dead yet. It makes my character seem like less of the ditzy bimbo and more of the Nancy Drew type." You add. "What you don't wanna be a bimbo? I love bimbos." Josh smirks, "I bet you do. I have no problem playing anything, I just hate lazy writing." You justify.

"I took stage combat last semester."

"Of course you did."

"Hey, it was a good class, and obviously very helpful now."

You can feel yourself blushing, this is stupid, like where am I supposed to look? He's so close to me, do I look into his eyes? That's too intense, maybe his mouth, oh, his lips are pretty, no no that's weird, he's gonna get the wrong impression, I'll just look in his eyes, his stupid, big, brown eyes. It was not lost on you that Josh was cute, fuck, he's the cutest guy in the whole department, and him holding you like this and this close is not helping.

"Okay, whatever nerd, just show me." You sigh exasperated, moving closer to Josh. He brings his hand up to you, "Okay, so in stunt work, all of the responsibility of selling it is on the 'victim' in the scene, so you gotta make it look realistic." Josh explains as he gently places his hand on your throat adding zero pressure. "So you don't squeeze at all?" "Well, only a little bit, but just here, on the sides of your neck, not your actual windpipe." He says, his hand gently squeezing. "Oh yeah, that feels...fine." You say as you look him over.

"So what do I do?" You ask him softly, Josh's eyes search yours, "Uh, you can um, put your hands on my arm and my wrist, make it look like you're trying to push me away?" He suggests. You bring your hands up to his forearm, leaning back against the arm of the couch as you place your hands on his forearm and bicep, squeezing the muscle beneath for effect. Oh? That's nice, hm, a little muscle there, what a suprise, you think to yourself as your eyes look over his arm. His fingers give your throat a gentle squeeze, bringing you back to his eyes, "Does that feel okay?" Josh asks gently, his fingers applying just the smallest bit of pressure. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in your chest and your stomach doing a flip. "Y-Yeah, uh you can squeeze a little harder, if you want?" You say bringing your hand on top of his on your throat.

Josh's eyes look to your neck as he feels your hand, helping him tighten his grasp just a tad more. "I don't wanna hurt you." Josh whispers, his eyes looking into your eyes, "You aren't. It's, uh, nice." You say softly, his hold semi affecting your voice. "That's my line, 'I don't wanna hurt you', remember? I think you wrote it." Josh smiles shyly as he moves in a little closer. "Oh," you chuckle nervously. Fuck he's cute, "Maybe I am more of the ditzy bimbo type." You respond quietly, a subtle rasp to your voice. Josh smirks as he looks at your lips and back to your eyes, "I do love bimbos." He whispers as he brings his lips to yours, kissing you gently.

His kiss is soft, warm and gentle, he tastes sweet, like cinnamon, and his lips are softer than you thought they'd be. You kiss him back and soon your hands move to his shoulders, pulling him close to you. His hand lets go of your throat as he lays more against your front and between your legs, his hand in your hair.

His tongue enters your mouth and you can't help but moan into his open mouth, his fingers scratch gently at your scalp as he pulls your hair so he can kiss at your neck. You grind against him, wanting to bring him even closer still, "Fuck, Josh." You whisper as you pull at his shirt, slipping your hands to rest on the warm skin of his back underneath. "Do you want to take this to my bedroom?" Josh asks slyly, kissing and licking up your neck. "Yes, please." You whine, he pulls away, getting up and picking you up to take you into his room.

"I swear to God if there is a Pulp Fiction poster in there-"

"Let's just stay out here then."

[for-a-longlongtime]

I have been looking forward to you finishing this one, because it's been such a joy to have read the parts you shared with me along the way for @perotovar's Frith writing challenge! OK let's dive in:

First of all - THE CHEMISTRY. Ugh, it's so so very good. I absolutely love how you wrote reader; she's smart, capable, compassionate but also just fun and such a delight. No wonder that she and Jack have chemistry right from the start, and it really does feel like destiny bringing these two together. They compliment each other so well, but in a way that it remains captivating and there's so much delicious tension crackling back and forth, and clearly even her friends know it.

And then there's Jack. I love reading fic that puts him in different situations than the original canon, but frankly you've really outdone yourself with this - especially considering all the mythology regarding Ægir. And while he tends to be put in distilleries instead of breweries, I actually feel llike the brewery craftmanship fits him so very well -- the experimenting he does, creating new flavors, and just how *warm* all of his business is in creating a space for people to come together.

just FYI, I'm already immediately crushing on reader

Not gonna lie, I do love an awkward but funny double entendre moment in a first meeting <3

1000% Jack vibes, that man would go allll out and make sure to impress.

like I said - this shows so clearly through the fic (and also goes so well with the mythology imo)

See I fucking ADORE places that do this, and I will always make a point of trying to go there and get a prepaid meal ticket or chip in somehow if I can afford it. It's so important.

I love this about her name <3

considering my MIL had dementia, this just really hit me hard 😭

I LOVE HIM

Menaces. And spot on. <3

*screaming into pillow* UM HELLO YES. And the hat??? Damn.

Fact: Jack is the only P guy that I'll allow such corniness from because it's just him LOLOL. This made me grin.

They are so hot together JFC

I LOVE THEM. This was gorgeous!!!!!

psssst heads up to @lady-bess @din-cognito @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @magpiepills

@ghostofaboy @crowandmousewritingco @alltheglitterandtheroar

Ocean's Gold - An Offering of Frith story

Pairing: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey x f!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Rating: Explicit - 18+ ADULTS ONLY, MDNI Frith Challenge god: Ægir

Summary: Jack Daniels, retired from the Statesmen, signs you on as the business partner for his new brewpub. Sparks fly, and you wonder if it could ever be more.

Tags/warnings: Tags/warnings: alcohol (beer) is a major part of the story, consumption of food & alcohol, a sprinkling of angst, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), protected PIV, Jack is an absolute consent king & safe sex advocate, semi-public sex (1 scene), absolute tooth-rotting fluff (these two are SO CUTE). Reader has she/her pronouns and identifies as female, has a name (not including it yet to keep it a surprise!) and some backstory but otherwise there are no physical details included - it's you, darling! (psssst: 2 other P boys make a guest appearance!)

a/n: This is my (belated) entry for @perotovar's Offering of Frith Challenge. My P boy/Norse god combo was Jack Daniels & Ægir. This is actually my first time writing Jack! It was such a fun challenge, and although I was honestly initially scared that I bit off more than I could chew, I ended up loving what I've written. I hope you do too! (See the afterword for more details on Ægir and other nods to Norse mythology/traditions that I sprinkled in!) Thank you Erin for hosting this challenge, and @for-a-longlongtime for being my cheerleader, beta reader, and telling me over and over that I could do this! Moodboard by @perotovar, dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Just breathe, you got this.

You straighten out your outfit in the mirror in an attempt to quell your nerves. Dark jeans, espresso leather lace up boots, cropped well-worn Fleetwood Mac graphic tee, and your favorite blood red blazer. You swipe on a matching red lip, nod at yourself in the mirror, and leave your apartment to walk down to the brewery.

The 3 block-long walk gives you time to review what you learned about the business opportunity. Jack was a recently-retired government operative who inherited a large sum of money and wanted to use it to open a brewpub. A smart businessman already, he knew that in order for his brewpub to be successful - regardless of how good his beer was - he needed to have a damn good pub restaurant, too. Which is why you’re swinging open the brewpub’s doors on a mild fall evening, CV in hand: as it turns out, you were looking for your next culinary opportunity. After working in a number of prestigious kitchens, you itched for the opportunity to build something of your own, something homey that you could be proud of. This position is exactly the kind of project you hoped for.

You step into the building, the interior clearly unfinished, but with good structure to it - high vaulted ceilings, good natural lighting, and two levels. Three, if you count the brewery on the floor below you to the left, where you could see the tops of large brewing fermentation vessels.

“Hello?” you call out into the barebones building, looking around for signs of life.

“I’ll be there in a jiffy!” you hear from someone below you, presumably Jack. In a moment, you see him emerge from the staircase leading to the brewing area, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

Holy hell, you didn’t know he was THIS hot.

Walking towards you was easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever set eyes on. Tall, incredibly broad-shouldered, and golden-skinned, Jack sauntered up to you wearing a white t-shirt stretched across his chest, dark jeans, black Wellingtons, and a belt with - is that a whiskey flask buckle?

“Rán, I assume?” Jack broke into a wide smile, offering up his hand. You shook it firmly, reveling in the warmth of Jack’s hand and how it dwarfed yours. Keeping your eyes locked to Jack’s amber ones, you returned his smile and nodded.

“It’s so nice to meet you in person, Jack,” you said, taking another glance around the interior. “The place has good bones.”

“That is does,” Jack responds, looking around as well. “I have high hopes for this place. And you seemed like the perfect person to hook up with to get it done.”

Your eyes bug out for a moment before you can school your face, but the heat starts creeping up your neck anyway. I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way…

“Oh, hell,” Jack sputters, “That’s not what I meant! I… dagnabbit, I’m already blowing it…” He runs his hand through his dark brown waves, thoroughly embarrassed. “I meant to partner with. On this business venture.” Jack looked at you, face flushed, eyes pleading. You couldn’t help but let out the giggles coming from your chest.

“Hardly blown, but maybe we can have some of that beer you promised me and start over?” you suggest, tilting your head towards the brewery. Jack looked relieved and nodded in agreement. 

“Follow me, darlin’, and I’ll take you to my mad scientist lab,” he says as he motions towards the staircase. Following his broad frame (good god, those shoulders are so wide) down the steps, you emerge in the brewery, the heart of the business. Gleaming stainless steel fermentation tanks tower above, the immaculate floor wet, looking recently sanitized. The smell of malted barley and herbaceous hops permeates the air, and the brewery area is compact yet efficient. Everything looks perfectly kempt, a testament to how much Jack cares about his beer. On a wall hook near the entrance hung a black leather jacket and a black Stetson cowboy hat. You notice a small farmhouse table set up nearby the office area with two glasses set atop. 

He set this up just for us?

Your eyes meet Jack’s, your mouth a bit ajar, and he smirks, pulling out a chair for you like a real southern gentleman. “Think I wouldn’t pull out all the stops for my hopefully-soon-to-be business partner?” You sit, and he walks to the carbonation room to fetch his brew of choice. Returning with the deep brown glass growler, Jack raises it towards you in offering. You nod, pushing your glass closer and he pours the liquid within out. A pale golden beer flows into your glass, creamy foam gathering on the surface. He pours himself some, then sits down at the other end of the table. 

“This is somethin’ I’ve been workin’ on for the grand openin’,” he explains, motioning to the beer. “It’s a farmhouse ale, what’s usually referred to as a saison. I’m callin’ it Ocean’s Gold. I want it to be the flagship brew. Please, try it and let me know what you think.” Your eyes flick to the glasses, and then with a small smile, you bring it up to your lips and drink. The beer is full-bodied, malty but light, with citrus and peppery notes dancing across your tongue. The finish is dry, resulting in a beer that’s incredibly drinkable and refreshing.

“Holy cow, Jack,” you breathe out, astounded at his skills. “That’s so delicious. You’re one hell of a brewmaster.”

Jack chuckles, grinning warmly. “Why thank you, sugar,” he croons, making the heat rise up the back of your neck again. Damn those Southern nicknames, you think to yourself, willing your nerves to calm. “Hopefully I’m as good of a brewer as you are a chef. I’ve been askin’ around, and word on the street is that you’re one of the best and hardest working chefs people have worked with.”

“Well, that’s high praise,” you reply, “but I’m glad to hear it. I pride myself on my work ethic and food is my first love, as it seems like brewing is for you. What sort of place do you want the brewpub to be?”

Jack contemplates his answer. You see his face get more serious, but nothing but passion shines from his eyes when they lift to yours. “First and foremost, aside from serving up the best beer this side of the Rockies, I want this place to be ingrained in the community.” You sip your beer as Jack continues. “This place has given me so much, and I want to give back. I want a place where everyone feels welcome, ya know? Whether they want to share a pint with a friend, get a bite to eat with loved ones, or meet new people who share their love of good food and beer, I want them to feel at home.”

A wistful look passes over Jack’s face, and he pauses to meet your eyes again. “Now, I don’t wanna overload you with too many details, but this part is pretty important to me, and I wanna make sure that whatever business partner I end up with is on the same page.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Now, when I was growing up, my family didn’t have the most to live on. A lot of times we went hungry, and it was only through the kindness of strangers that we got to eat then. I have this idea for a ‘pay it forward’ type meal program. Folks can come in, pay $5, $10 for a prepaid meal ticket. We’d put those paid vouchers up somewhere and if someone is hungry and doesn’t have the money to pay, they can take one of those vouchers and we’d give ‘em a hearty meal, free of charge.”

Jack takes a breath and closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back over at you. You can feel your heart ache for this man who clearly had to work hard to be where he’s at, now wanting to share his wealth with those less fortunate than him. You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Jack, that’s… incredible,” you finally get out. This degree of selflessness wasn’t common in business owners in the circles you existed in. “I’d be honored to help you make that dream a reality.”

“Is that you sayin’ you’ll saddle up with me, sugar?” Jack looks at you with hope in his eyes. Your heart leaps, and you try to calm it down as you nod affirmatively. This is a business deal, your brain warns your heart. It beats fast anyway.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jack beams, excitement rippling off his body. “Can’t wait to build this place up together.”

You grab the growler and fill your and Jack’s glasses, raising yours to his. “Cheers to a fruitful new partnership.” Your smile reflects Jack’s, and you both drink up.

The next 9 months are a whirlwind of activity. After your official business documents were drawn up and signed, you and Jack worked night and day to get the brewpub ready for the following summer. You designed the interior, fitting the place with warm dark wood and brassy golden fixtures. Chic firepits dotted the outdoor patio in the back. You included subtle oceanic iconography wherever you could – the sea was a huge inspiration for the both of you. Jack worked tirelessly on a signature lineup of beer, as well as a couple of seasonal offerings to add variety. Meanwhile, you toiled in the kitchen, experimenting with flavor profiles and dishes until you’d perfected your menu. You laughed and joked as you worked together, getting to know each other’s backstories as well as each other’s preferred workstyles. You talked and dreamed, debated and sometimes argued - after all, both of you were stubborn - but always worked things out. You kept him on his toes, and he kept you grounded.

Oftentimes, you and Jack used each other as taste testers, knowing the both of you would give honest feedback. On one particular evening in the late winter, you were sitting at the half-finished bar, sipping on a trial seasonal amber ale that Jack fermented in whiskey barrels. 

“I never asked you where you got your name from, darlin’,” Jack mused, taking a gulp of his beer afterwards. “It’s quite unusual.”

“Ahh yes,” you responded, a smirk turning up your lips. “That would be thanks to my literary professor grandmother. She specialized in studying mythology texts from around the globe. Rán is the Norse sea goddess of death.” You saw Jack’s eyebrows twitch upwards in surprise, and you chuckled a bit before continuing. “That sounds intense, but she is also seen as the caretaker of those who die at sea. She helps care for them until they are ready to move on to the next realm. My grandmother wanted me to be tough, suffer no fools, but to also be kind and care for those that need it.” 

Jack huffs in amusement. “Sounds just like you. She did a good job with that name.”

You smile, swirling your glass in thought. You look up at him, but his warm chocolate eyes are already on you, a flicker of something in them that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Jack?” you start. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about the ‘giving back’ part of the business.” You take a deep breath, your true passion project in your mind. “A long time ago, when I was much younger and just starting my culinary journey, I worked at an assisted living home, specifically for those with Alzheimer’s disease. It paid terribly, but I got a lot of experience in preparing food in a foodservice setting. It also deeply affected me. You don’t realize how important food is to people. Sometimes family members would ask if we could put something special on the menu, a dish their loved one used to make or loved to eat, to see if they would remember. We wouldn’t make any promises, but I’d always remember which request was from which family. When we were able to accommodate those requests, I’d see these people whose minds… for lack of a better term, seemed to be proverbially lost at sea… but they took one bite of their favorite food, and their whole face lit up. Sometimes it was simply enjoying the food, but other times it would trigger fond memories.”

Your eyes began to water, and Jack reached across the table and grabbed your hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top. You swallowed, continuing. “I hated that I had to leave that place, but my career wouldn’t go anywhere if I didn’t, and the money wasn’t nearly enough to pay the bills. I always thought, if I was in a place where I could give back, I would love to donate my time and supplies to cook for people like that again.” You look into Jack’s eyes, a swirl of emotions in yours. “Do you think… we could maybe do that with the brewpub? Take a day off every month or so to cook for an Alzheimer’s assisted living home?”

Jack squeezed your hand. “Of course, sugar. It means a lot to you, and it’s helpin’ the community. I couldn’t think of a more worthy cause.”

A tear slipped down your face as you smiled and mouthed “thank you” at him. But your breath caught in your throat when Jack reached up to tenderly wipe away the tear from your cheek. You stare at each other, a charge running through the air. 

Kiss him, your heart whispers.

But instead, you clear your throat, squeeze his hand and throw on a grin. “I’d love some more of that ale if you got any more.”

Jack smiles softly. “For you? No charge.” You both giggle as he goes to grab another pint for you.

He’s just a business partner, your brain reminds you. But he’s become more than that, you realize.

A friend. A partner in dreams.

Maybe more, says your heart.

A few months later, the brewpub is bustling.

With the support of some of your industry friends - and your and Jack’s hard work - The Gilded Wave opens with a bang. Business is booming; the restaurant is constantly busy, and Jack is so swamped with the microbrewery that he had to hire two additional assistant brewmasters to keep up with demand. You are speaking to your front-of-house manager when two very familiar faces burst through the front door.

Your face lights up. “Pero! Ez! What are you guys doing here?” you exclaim as they wrap you up in a bear hug. You squeal as they lift you into the air with ease.

“We heard through the ever-whisperin’ grapevine that our sweet Birdie built her very own nest and we just had to come see for ourselves,” Ezra drawls, his characteristically charismatic smirk alighting his face while he takes in the brewpub. “What a perfectly festooned establishment you got here! I sure do hope the fine provisions match the opulence of the aesthetics!”

You shake your head, giggling at Ezra’s always-fanciful dialogue, as Pero rolls his eyes at his companion. “It’s lovely to see you, hermosa,” he rumbles, kissing your cheek. 

“I missed you both so much! Wanna sit at the bar and I can set you two up with some beer & food?” you offer.

“That would be fabulous, Birdie!” Ezra exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I am in need of libations like an earthworm in the midday sun.” The two men plunk themselves down at the bar, and you turn to your bartender.

“Eddie, do you mind sending in an order of garlic fries and crispy artichoke hearts for these two gentlemen?” Eddie nods and starts punching in the order in the system. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jack coming up from the brewery stairs, wiping his brow after checking on the brewing. “Jack! Come meet some friends.”

Jack grins, loping up the rest of the stairs. He swaggers up to the bar, looking at you expectantly. 

“Jack, this is Ezra and Pero. We worked together in a bunch of restaurants over the last few years.” Jack smiles widely, shaking the hand of each man and exchanging greetings.

“Guys,” you say, “this is my business partner Jack. He’s the brilliant brewmaster keeping this place busy.”

“Aww, shucks, sugar,” Jack guffaws, “this place ain’t what it is without your excellent food. Only so long a man can survive on beer before he needs to eat. And what an incredible menu it is!”

You feel your cheeks heat with the compliment. “Jeez, don’t make me soft in front of these two. I’ll never hear the end of it!” You punch Jack in the shoulder playfully, and your friends snort.

“Rán? Soft? No way, only if she really likes you,” Pero gruffs with a laugh. “She used to make grown men cry when they’d try to start shit with her.”

You turned to Jack with a smirk. “I told you I suffer no fools.”

Jack puts his hands in the air playfully in mock surrender. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He turns to Pero and Ezra. “Would you two like to act as my beer guinea pigs for a moment? I have a new winter ale that I’m looking to perfect before the season hits us.” Your friends nod in agreement and thanks, and Jack turns to the bar, pouring from an unmarked tap that he keeps just for his trial brews. He slides the taster glasses to Ezra and Pero, and your friends sip in contemplation.

Ezra immediately starts speaking, as per usual. “Why, Jack, that is one of the finest ales I’ve ever had in my many turns around this here planet! The spice notes, they’re so unique! Is that coriander and ginger I’m picking up?” He sips again before Jack can speak. “Maybe some citrus?”

“Mighty fine palette you have there,” Jack responds. “It’s a white ale I’ve spiked with coriander, ginger, and orange peel. Gives that warm holiday feeling.”

Pero nods, eyebrows raised. “Now that, amigo, is a good beer.” He raises his taster in salute, then downs the rest.

You giggle and slap his hand. “Tovar! You’re supposed to savor it!” Pero only shrugs.

“It’s quite alright,” Jack chuckles. “They can each have a full pint with all the compliments they’ve lathered me up with.” You roll your eyes at your friends, and rub Jack’s shoulder in a “thank you” gesture. Pero clocks the move, and raises his eyebrows in question. You silently beg him to not ask anything.

Jack places two pints of the white ale in front of the men. “Well, fellas, thanks for coming in. I have to go back down to the beer lab now that I know this winter recipe is locked in. It’s been great meeting the two of you, and I hope to see y’all around again!” 

Pero and Ezra bade farewell to Jack, who disappeared back down the stairs just as the fries and artichokes arrived to the two of them. Both men dug in, nearly moaning in pleasure at the food.

“Birdie, this is incredible,” Ezra exclaims, dunking a fried artichoke into the aioli. Pero nods in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” you coo, pleased that two of your longest friends approved of your menu. The three of you are silent for a moment, a rare occurrence when around Ezra.

“So what’s with you and Jack?” Pero asks bluntly. You nearly choke on the garlic fry you swiped from the basket. Ezra giggles into the artichokes.

“Nothing is going on,” you stammer, coughing slightly. “He’s my business partner.”

“Hermosa, I know you well, and you’ve never rubbed my shoulder like that,” Pero levels.

“I will say,” adds Ezra, “I could detect a certain… aura around you when Jack came upstairs. I have also never experienced that around you.” 

“Guys, we are business partners,” you assert. “We just got close ‘cause of how intertwined our work is.”

“Yeah, I’m sure there was some intertwining happening…” Pero mutters, and you slap him upside the head. Ezra titters uncontrollably.

“Alright, Birdie,” Ezra relents, “we’ll leave you alone about handsome Mr. Jack for now. But his winter ale did alight some thoughts in my head about a certain gathering…”

You groan. “Ez… we just opened up not that long ago. I can’t in good conscience ask Jack to let our ragtag group of friends take over the brewpub for our yearly winter debauchery.”

“But what if we profusely pledge to be on our most upstanding deportment?” Ezra begs, batting his eyelashes comically while putting on his best puppy face.

Pero snorts. “Fat chance at that. But I do like the idea.” He turns to you, raising an eyebrow.

You stare at them for a few moments more, and then your resolve crumbles. “Alright, you two hooligans, I’ll ask. But NO promises, okay?” Ezra cheers and wraps you in a tight hug, while Pero gruffs in agreement and stuffs a handful of fries in his mouth.

Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly, as he is so sweet and accommodating), Jack is enthusiastic about hosting your friend group’s annual winter party, saying how excited he was to meet your friends. You and Ezra planned for weeks, and Pero came through to help you and Jack decorate the place. The warm wood is hung with pine and holly garlands, twinkling string lights criss-cross along the walls and ceilings, and pine cones are tucked into various corners of the space. A yule tree sparkled in an alcove, decorated in reg, green, and gold. And you made sure to pin up a few sprigs of mistletoe, one of your favorite traditions of the season. Back at your apartment, you slip on a sumptuous golden silk dress that clings in all the right places and flows beautifully to show off your figure, and strap on matching gold heels. Swiping on the same crimson lipstick you wore when you met Jack as a finishing touch, you smooth your outfit and walk back to the pub.

Soon enough, your friends began to pour into the space, bringing with them various foods and drinks. Jack made a special batch of wassail for the occasion, and Ezra dramatically waxes poetic about how good it is while Pero rolls his eyes at him, as usual, in the corner. The space fills with laughter, clinking glasses, and the smell of delicious food. You and Jack act as the gracious hosts, making sure no one’s glasses are empty and all the plates are full. As you’d hoped and prayed, Jack gets along amazingly well with every single one of your friends. He jokes and roasts; listens intently and carefully to people’s stories. He extends a warmth and familiarity to all, and more than once you get nudged suggestively, eyebrows wiggling and giggles whispered into your ear about how wonderfully well you and Jack work together. You flush with heat every time, and it’s hard to deny the chemistry between the two of you. Beyond being fantastic business partners, you admire Jack’s adeptness, his dogged cleverness, and most of all, his heart. Jack’s got one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever come across.

And, even if you fight it, you realize that Jack’s worked his way into your heart, too. All night you’ve been exchanging charged glances, sly smiles, little winks here and there. Jack places a warm hand on the small of your back while passing you. You press your body subconsciously against his while reaching for another glass. Fingertips brush, sparks fly. 

By the time your friends trickle out into the night, merry and full, the heat between the two of you is palpable.

You’re cleaning up the bar area when Jack approaches you, two glasses of wassail in his hands. “Outstanding shindig you threw, darlin’,” he observes, passing you a glass. You clink your cup against his and take a sip, savoring the way the ale, sweet honey, and spices swirl across your tongue. 

“We threw the party, Jack,” you correct. “You were just as good of a host as me, if not better.”

Jack smirks. “Well, it’s easy when you have such fun friends.”

“They are fun for sure, although I was worried they’d be a bit… much,” you admit.

“Pfft, I’m used to dealing with strong personalities,” he scoffs, nudging you pointedly. You roll your eyes but your grin remains, and you scoot closer to him, pressing the side of your body against his. You both lean against the bar, facing the interior of the brewpub, admiring where your hard work has taken you.

“Can you believe this place is real?” you muse, sipping again. Your eyes roam the space above you, when you stop and smile to yourself.

“Yes, I remember you waltzing into this place when it was nothing but concrete and pipes and my brewing equipment, a pretty thing with red lips and determination,” Jack reminisces, ignorant of what you’ve spotted.

Your heart skips a beat. Pretty.

“Oh yeah, cowboy? ‘A pretty thing’?” you purr, turning slightly to face him, your red lips pursed in amusement. Jack looks slightly hesitant, worried he crossed a line, until you point upwards and his eyes follow.

A sparkling sprig of mistletoe hangs between the two of you, above your heads. He meets your eyes again, all hesitation gone. 

“Are you gonna just stare, or are you gonna respect tradition and kiss this ‘pretty thing’?” you whisper, your lips curled flirtatiously.

A smirk spreads across Jack’s face. “I thought you’d never ask, sugar.” And with that, he pulls you into his body and your lips connect.

It’s a slow, sensual kiss when it starts. Jack is gentle, all brushes of the lips, presses and caresses of your body. You lean into him, feeling your nipples press against his dark button up while he cups the back of your head tenderly. A small whimper escapes your lips, and Jack pulls back with concern. 

“Is this still okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. You don’t answer with words, you just nod and pull him into another kiss, gently biting his plush lower lip. Jack moans gruffly, sliding his hands down the lines of your body, pausing to cup and squeeze your silk-covered ass. You feel wetness start to seep into your panties, your arousal rocketing by the second as your kisses get more and more impassioned. Jack trails wet kisses down your neck, licking at your pulse point and right behind your ear, ripping another whimper from your chest. 

“Sugar, I need to taste you so badly,” Jack groans into the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting softly. 

“Please, Jack,” you breathe out, and Jack lifts you onto the bar counter, rucking your dress up. You spread your legs, helping to pull the golden silk out of the way. Jack pauses, then another smirk blooms on his lips; he takes his black Stetson off his head and places it onto yours in a quiet act of possession. You pant while you watch Jack pull up a barstool in front of you. Seating himself, he spreads you even wider, his eyes glittering with desire when he sets his eyes on your glistening center. You didn’t wear any panties, and he groans at the realization.

“Fuck, you’re prettier than a picture, honey,” he rumbles, tracing his large warm hands up your inner thighs, triggering more slick to seep out of you. Using his thumb, Jack spreads your wetness around your folds, and you inhale sharply, whimpering again. When Jack spies the pearl of your clit, he runs his thumb across it slowly, encouraging it to harden. 

“So fucking pretty,” Jack murmurs to himself, thumbing your clit again and reveling in the twitch of your thighs as he does. He leans down and runs the flat of his tongue across your entire pussy, from bottom to top, swirling around your clit deliciously slowly. Wanton moans snake their way from your throat. You grip Jack’s hair, keeping his face pressed against your most intimate parts. He groans into your folds, devouring you like a man starved, as you whine and whimper and shake for him. He’s observant, noticing when your body twitches and your cries pitch higher, using that information to bring you to the simmering cusp of your orgasm. 

“Come for me, darlin’,” Jack pleads, slicking up two fingers and sliding them inside you, your pussy gripping him tightly. You throw your head back, legs shaking from the intensity, when he reaches a spot deep in you.

With a few more pressured strokes of his fingers and a gentle suck of his mouth on your clit, you shatter around him, cunt clenching and dripping onto his fingers.

“That’s it, such a good girl coming for me when I ask,” Jack coos, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm, squelching from your release. Your moans are music to his ears, rapidly hardening his cock. Once you recover a bit, Jack slips his fingers into his mouth right before your eyes, growling quietly at the taste.

“Sweeter than honey,” he grits out, swooping in for a kiss, your own taste lingering on his lips and making you moan yet again. 

“Jack, I need you inside me,” you beg between fevered kisses. Jack pulls away to meet your eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck you here,” he explains. “Can we go to your place? I want to lay you out, fuck you proper like you deserve.”

“Yes, of course,” you breathe, and he slaps your ass lightly before helping you off of the counter. You giggle, wobbling slightly in the aftermath of your pleasure. Jack helps right you and wraps a steadying arm around your shoulders while the two of you walk the three blocks to your apartment.

As soon as you enter the door, Jack is on you again, grinding his clothed cock into you and kissing you deeply. You walk the two of you backwards to your bedroom, clothing and shoes coming off between lips locking and hands groping, exploring. Both naked, you climb onto your bed, Jack following. Your legs fall open, and Jack can’t help himself from lunging forward to lick at your drenched pussy at the first sight of your slick lips parting. A whine hitches from your lungs, and Jack pulls back, shifting up to kiss you deeply again. Tongues tangle, lips are bitten, breathless moans exchanged. He pulls back again as you chase his lips, but he stops you.

“Hold your horses, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, eyes shining with both hope and concern. “I don’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for.”

Your heart clenches at the display of care and consent. A smile lights your face as you respond, “Yes. I’ve been wanting this for ages… I was just too scared to be wrong about you feeling the same way for me and ruining an amazing business partnership. I’ve been dreaming of you in my bed for months, and now that I have you here, I’m not going to let you get away so fast.”

Jack’s eyes light up, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before getting off the bed. He rummages through his pants briefly until he pulls a gold foil square from his wallet.

“I’ve got a golden ticket here for you, darlin’, but I want you to know that I get tested regularly and that I’m clean,” Jack informs you, a smile warming his face when you giggle at his corny joke. “Is that okay with you?” He climbs back onto the bed, leaning down to kiss your belly.

You nod affirmatively. “So do I, and I’m on the pill.” Sitting up and holding your hand out for the condom, you ask, “May I?”

Jack hands you the packet. “Be my guest, angel.” You lean forward, pressing your lips once again into his, and he groans in surprise as you flip him onto his back in one fluid motion. Climbing up his legs, you push them apart to make room for yourself in between. His impressive cock is achingly hard, viscous droplets of precum bubbling at the tip. You lap them up eagerly, Jack’s head falling onto your pillows with a muffled thump and a whine of pleasure.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” Jack breathes. You suckle at the head, humming in pleasure as the salty-bitter taste floods your senses. Slowly, you begin bobbing up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue across his silky length, making his moans louder and more ragged as you go. After a couple of minutes and an intense suck later, Jack actually whimpers into the thick air of your bedroom, begging you for more. You tear open the foil packet carefully, then suck his cockhead one more time before settling the condom on top and gingerly rolling it down his thick cock. 

You rise to your knees and shuffle upwards, leaning down one more time to kiss him. With your lips locked, Jack presses you back a bit and scooches his body up to sit against the headboard. You settle into his lap and slide yourself down his cock slowly.

The stretch is exquisite. Both of you moan in sync, your hands planted on his tan chest, his hands coming up to grip your hips to keep himself tethered to the moment. You feel as if every empty space in your body is filled; he fits perfectly inside you, like he was meant to be there. 

He feels like coming home.

Once he’s bottomed out inside of you, you both take a moment to breathe and be present. Jack’s eyes are closed, forehead resting against yours, breathing each other’s air. His hands slowly and gently knead your hips while you adjust to his thickness stretching your walls deliciously. Bringing one of your hands to his face, you admire his blissed but tense countenance. It seems like the both of you are barely keeping it together; your pussy throbs against his cock, which twitches in response. Your breathing is heavier. And so is the tension and desire.

You kiss Jack’s lips softly, tracing your thumb down the line of his jaw, and his eyes flutter open, utterly melting when they focus on you. “Baby,” you murmur, “can I ride you now?” A groan claws out of Jack’s mouth, and his lips part as he nods his head affirmatively. 

“Please,” he begs, and fucks up gently into you. Your center clenches in response, and you begin to work yourself on his shaft, rolling your hips as you grind down and back up. The sensation is intense, intimate, and all-consuming.

You clutch at Jack’s well-muscled shoulders, pressing kisses wherever you can reach and nipping his neck. His groans deepen and lengthen, his cock swelling even harder with the feeling of being buried inside you, surrounded by hot velvet. Hands gripping harder, he thrusts back up into you each time you slide down, punching into a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Dizzying ecstasy lights up your veins as your moans and whines pitch higher with your arousal. The slick, obscene squelching of your pussy only serves to intensify the experience for the both of you.

“Oh god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet and tight for me,” Jack slurs, lost in his reverence of you. “Could never get enough of you.” All you can respond with is a devout chant of his name, moaned and sighed and whimpered. He reaches down and slicks his thumb with your juices, swirling it gently around your clit. You keen sharply.

“Jack,” you moan, “don’t stop, you’re getting me there.” Jack hushes you as he works your pearl firmer.

“C’mon, sugar, I wanna feel you come all over my cock,” he encourages urgently, massaging that spot deep in your pussy while he swirls, swirls, swirls with his thumb. Your whines sharpen, your body beginning to shake.

“Oh fuck, Jack, you’re gonna make me come,” you yelp desperately, your pussy contracting and squeezing his cock tightly. Jack digs his fingers harder into the meat of your hips, trying to stave off his own orgasm, as he continues his ministrations.

He leans forward, sucking and kissing your neck, up to your ear, and licking the spot right behind it gently before murmuring, “Come for me, beautiful.”

You shatter.

Flames lick along every nerve ending, and you shove Jack as deeply into you as possible when your high hits you. Wailing his name, you grip his hair, your cunt gushing and contracting against his length, and that’s enough to push Jack over the edge with you, your name tumbling off his lips in a whimper as he buries himself deep and empties his seed into the condom. 

Waves crashing together, the wheel of fate bringing you two to each other. He is meant for you, and you for him.

You both come back into your bodies, breathing heavily with your faces nuzzled against each other. Jack kisses your lips gently, and you part them to allow a deeper kiss to blossom. Slowly, languidly, your tongues dance, lips press and pull. With the tiniest peck, the two of you separate, and Jack brings his hands to cup your face gently, fingertips stroking your soft skin. His eyes shine like the sea on a sunny day, and you see golden flecks catch the light from your bedside lamp. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, mesmerized.

You huff a laugh. “Hardly,” you reply, “but I feel like we’re perfect for each other, no?” Jack nods.

“Perfectly suited for each other,” he agrees. “You are my fire, and I am your ocean. You motivate me to push myself and our business further, and keep my passions burning.”

“And you go with the flow, move with the tides, helping me get through rough waters,” you mutter sweetly at him, kissing his strong, aquiline nose. You both sit and absorb each other’s presence, soaking in the new stage of your relationship.

“Where do we go from here?” you whisper to Jack. Your lover, your confidante, your partner in business - and now, in life.

“I don’t quite know what our future holds, sugar,” Jack responds, kissing your forehead, “but where your heart is, there I will be also.”

a/n part 2: Thank you for reading! Below I've included the brief that Erin wrote about Ægir, as well as some details/inspo from the fic. Disclaimer: I am not inherently familiar with Norse mythology or traditions, so apologies if there's anything that is off-base!

-- Beers are inspired by Allagash Brewing's saison and seasonal Ski House Wheat.

-- The winter holiday party decorations are inspired by traditional Norse decorations for Yule.

-- The "wheel of fate" and the last line Jack says are a nod to traditional Norse wedding vows.

-- For Erin's Frith Challenge, Thor was assigned to Pero Tovar, and Tyr was assigned to Ezra.

God: Ægir  Character: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey

God of the sea and brewing ale. A Jotun (which translates to “devour” or “consume”, despite being connected to “giant” more often), suggesting that he would devour or consume the ships that would sink into the sea, and his wife, Rán (the death goddess of the sea), would consume the men upon the ships.

“The brother of air and fire”. Father of 9 daughters, who themselves are the waves. Not only represents the sea, but also personifies it. Symbolizes the strength and power of the ocean, so many view him as a great warrior.

Framed as a terrible and devouring Jotun, he’s also a welcoming host. It’s said that Thor and Tyr would visit to have some of Ægir’s ale, and every winter, the gods would come to feast in his hall. This makes him a great match for Rán, the caretaker of those who died at sea, as his hospitality would be extended to them through Rán. This could be seen one of two ways: that either the dead would reside in their hall, or that they would rest there until they were ready to move on.

The sea was seen as a source of great wealth, since sailors would find treasure through industry, trade or plunder. Gold itself was referred to as “Ægir’s Fire”, because he “lights his hall with gold in his hearth”. He’s wealthy, but he shares that wealth as he entertains his guests.

However, he sort of wanted to get out of being the gods’ host. He said he’d do it on the condition that they find a big enough cauldron to account for the amount of ale he’d have to make, since the gods liked to party so much.

To follow Ægir is to be hospitable to those who enter your hold seeking comfort.

Offerings: Ocean/water iconography. Gold. Fire/flames. Ale/alcohol.

Tags for those who may be interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @sin-djarin @nerdieforpedro @mermaidgirl30 @missredherring @morallyinept @qveerthe0ry @guiltyasdave @almostfoxglove @almostempty @schnarfer @kedsandtubesocks @djarinmuse @agentmarcuspike @gasolinerainbowpuddles @yopossum

[bellafragolina]

Can I see the sub bros, Elesa, and Burgh meet a s/o who says bad pick up lines all the time? Maybe they try to be smooth but end up in cartoon esque situations where things go comically wrong, maybe they just drop a handful of limes and say they needed a good pick up ‘lime’.

Oh, babe, as you've seen, I am so very down for the bad pick up lines.

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Ingo is. In. Love. with you. He watches you stammer over a pick up line, or drop the corniest line on him with this big confident grin, and he just dies a little. It's so damn cute, he can't hardly stand it. How are you getting away with being this cute? It must be criminal

He's susceptible to a few of the smoother lines, and all the raunchy ones make him turn beet red. Pin him to the wall and drop something dirty on him and watch him malfunction. Good lucky getting a coherent sentence out of him after that.

Tell him train related lines. He thinks they're funny and sweet. Grin like a doof and tell him that he must be a train, since you're so a-track-ted to him, he won't be able to take it. He'll laugh and then have to excuse himself to go scream into a pillow over how precious you are. You can't keep getting away with it!

Emmet:

Emmet is the king of pick up lines, so he's armed and ready whenever you come at him. He knows a lot of bold and raunchy ones, so after you stutter out a sillier line, he's coming back and swinging for the fences. You're usually the one that ends up flustered after all is said and done.

Should you come back at him with similarly raunchy lines, however, he's pushing his sleeves up. You both fire bad lines at one another, and the first to laugh loses. Whoever wins gets treated to some sweets from y'all's favorite cafe, not to mention bragging rights.

It's a fun competition that you often win with your "pick up limes" trick and all. You wrote your number on one to give him at the station and he cried from laughing so hard. Ingo and the passengers were concerned, but you were just grinning. You got a nice slice of cake that night

Elesa:

She thinks you're cute. She has a million pun-related lines she likes to use on you, and you always laugh at them. She laughs at yours too, and thinks you're very endearing as you try and flirt with her this way. She's always been fond of more awkward flirting than confident anyway

Should you pull out something bold or dirty on her, expect a shocked look before she's laughing hard. Not at you, just at your sudden boldness. The surprise does her in, and she's quick to ask if you're serious about your offer once she's done giggling.

You two can get into little wars with your sillier lines. She'll give you endless bad puns, and you retaliate with corny lines. Skyla and the train twins always leave whenever you two get started because they know you're not stopping for a while. You two know way too many bad jokes and pick up lines. It's a little concerning

Burgh:

He un-ironically swoons a little if you manage to land a line. Otherwise, you make him laugh and coo. Burgh knows a few bad lines of his own, so you may be going back and forth for a bit before you both break down into laughter.

Should you mess up a line, however, he just chuckles and pretends to swoon dramatically, even falling into your arms. He exclaims how he has been struck dead by your charms, and how only a kiss from his true love can awaken him. Should you give him the kiss he wants, he's smiley and nearly hanging off of you afterwards

Pull the "pick up limes" trick on him, and watch him wheeze, half in disbelief you're doing this to him, half from the endearment of the flirt. He's so enamored with you and your silly ways. How did he ever get so lucky?

🍓🍓🍓

I'd think they'd all be pretty smitten with you and your silly lines <3

Have a great day, love!

~Renee

[thegreengoop]

Matt Murdock x reader

So far untitled. Slightly repressed gn reader, no y/n.

COVID is a thing in this, not going to be a major theme but masks and such will be present. I made the reader have a lot of anxiety surrounding covid, mostly because I do lol.

Chap. 1

Warnings: use of alcohol, getting tipsy/drunk, covid existing, cheesy situations, Matt and reader being awkward, bad writing. Don’t think I’m missing anything but let me know if I did!

I started in a less organized, headcannon style and then got carried away. I kind of suck at dialogue incase you don’t notice, so a lot of off-screen (?) talking, specifically in the first bit.

*It is late so I basically wrote this in one go, hardly any proofreading, format is weird. Help/suggestions welcomed*

~~~~~

Bumping into him at a café by accident, mistaking of orders, Matt makes a blind joke. Awkwardness, noticing his fluffy hair, blushing. Being starved of physical contact – classic hands touching to reach for the same cup.

You figure you could just die right there – looking at this cute, now laughing at you, stranger.

Encountering him again the next week – it’s your weekly “treat” to yourself on Fridays – and you force yourself to approach him, introducing yourself and making small talk while you were waiting for your orders.

“See you next week?” “Of course,” with His Smirk.

Sitting at an outdoor bench the next week (this time him gathering the courage to engage with you), now that the weather was getting more decent, at the least. A rare morning of sunlight and cool, soft breezes. Seeing his face for the first time, you blush and smile a little, not very embarrassed because he is blind, but self-consciously feeling like everyone is watching you make heart eyes at this guy. Matt does catch on. Watching Matt’s hair whip around his head with a small unconscious smile on your face. Matt noticing and liking it. After a few minutes you both agree you have to split to get to your works, you going back home with your drink because you’re working from home for the time being.

He comes up a few times in your mind that week; that day while you’re at work, sitting at your desk and thinking about his pink cheeks in the morning wind. Sometimes when you’re drinking the coffee that you make yourself the rest of the week. Seeing someone else with brown hair and round sunglasses in the crowd and subconsciously being disappointed.

Walking up to the coffee shop and seeing Matt outside with two cups. Slightly, you accept your order from him - remembering this to pay him back sometime. Sitting on your bench, seeing some sprouts in the plant boxes next to it, making a small noise and Matt asking about that, you having to explain. Some more polite conversation later, both getting antsy because you’ll have to leave soon.

“Wait, just, before you go – gosh this is so corny, but – would you like to maybe hang out some time? My coworkers and I are going out tonight, if… you’d like to join us?” You retract at first, feeling nervous about what sounds like a big group and a night of rowdiness, but Matt butts in “It’s just the three of us, me, Foggy, and Karen. We go to this terrible little bar, but it’s great. I’m way overstepping, aren’t I?”

Feeling better about the going out, especially with what sounds like with at least one woman (feeling a bit more at ease hearing it’s not a crowd of unknown men), you say sure, typing in Matt’s firm’s location on your phone – now knowing he’s a lawyer. Neat. Good to have lawyer friends.

After what felt like a quick day of amping up your nerves and excitement at the prospect at spending more time with this guy, and not being able to be out with people in so long takes a toll. Matt said they’d be going straight from the office, so you dressed in something casual but nice, totally just to make a good first impression on these new people. No other reason. Trying to emotionally prepare yourself to meet new people and be sociable for the night on the way over.

Matt greeting you a little awkwardly, foggy obviously noting how nervous he is around you for later questioning. Foggy and Karen are excited to meet you, Foggy grabbing his jacket off his chair, leaving the seat spinning with his enthusiasm to escape the office. A quick walk down a couple blocks and the three of them head into a dingey looking bar, neon sign outside, flickering, reading Jo i s. They say hi to the woman working at the bar, and head to an open table near the edge of the semi-crowded room. You sit next to Matt at a high round table, Foggy across from you and Karen at your other side, getting a feel for the atmosphere. Sounds of people playing pool and laughing and joking in their tipsy states around you, noticing the soft glowing lights and sporadic small neon signs and posters around the perimeter of the room, and then the brighter spotlights hanging above the multiple pool tables. Karen are busy talking about ordering a pitcher for the table, Matt leans over to ask how your doing, trying to gauge if you’re uncomfortable. You appreciate that, and thank him for inviting you out, how little you do that anymore and that you’re a little unused to the whole being-around-people thing. He laughs, saying he knows how you feel, it usually just being him and the two others drinking in their office some nights, since restrictions varying constantly and just agreeing not to risk it. Apparently tonight is a special night. Foggy gets why Matt suggested it a few days ago.

After Foggy comes back with a pitcher of the cheapest beer, with a proud grin on his face, the four of you officially start of your night. After a few glasses, everyone seems to be loosening up. Karen asks about what you do.

“Oh, pfft, right now I’m stuck working from home. So, mostly doing mind-numbing repetitive tasks, filling out the things and all the ugh, documents,” you say, very soberly.

Foggy hums to that, raising his glass and downing the last half left. By now the pitcher is almost empty, he finishes it off and asks if they should start doing the “harder stuff” now. You hesitate for a second but start giggling, looking over at Karen who seems to get sharing in your giddiness. Matt also looks happy, flushed slightly from the alcohol (?), shaking his head and smiling at the table at one of Foggy’s bad puns. While Karen and Foggy get up to order them all a couple shots, you turn towards Matt, an easy smile on your face, thanking him again for asking you here.

“Any time. They seem to really like you,” he says, smiling with the warmth of being a tad bit tipsy back at you. You sit there for a moment, not saying anything, you studying his face – that seems to be getting handsomer and handsomer every time you see it – and him looking in your direction, swaying slightly with the small smile still there. Foggy breaks your focus, drawing your attention to the four shot glasses he’d brought over.

“Karen’s had to go to the ladies’ room,” he explains at your confused look when she didn’t show up with him.

The three of you decide not to wait on her and clink the small glasses before downing them. You grimace a little, having not done shots in a while. Months, maybe even over a year now that you think about it. Not having an excuse to, doing shots alone in your apartment got depressing after the first few times the thought had occurred to you. You glance up from the surface of the table to see Karen weaving her way through the crowd, flower-patterned mask drawing her out from the tables of bikers she had to pass on the way. The three of you at the table jeer at her needing to catch up, as she happily sits and downs it like a pro. The Nelson and Murdock team seemed to need this even more than you. The business of lawyering seemed like a draining one. Foggy and Karen started trying you to join in on a pool game, though you insisted you’d rather not embarrass yourself and sit on the sidelines with Matt.

“Boooo. We need more shots,” Foggy said just before he got up and traipsed his way over to Josie, you now knew after the few hours you guys had been chatting for.

Karen got up too, luckily spotting a nearby free table and swooping in to claim it.

Matt chuckled lowly, “this is only the beginning, just a few more drinks and they’ll be in the off-key singing phase.”

You laughed along with him, a mix of excitement and fear for your eardrums. Your stomach was feeling warm, comfortably buzzed, the filter on your words and movement all but gone by now. You leaned with an elbow on the table, face in your hand, gazing unabashedly at Matt in the soft bar light. He seems to notice and returns your stare the best he can.

“You like what you see?” He asks with his typical smirk on his face.

“Shh, I’m appreciating art,” you whisper-yell back to him, not being able to stop yourself from acting like a fool in front of this now extremely handsome man.

If and when you remembered this the next day, you’d surely regret everything you’ll be saying tonight, but for now you had not a care in the world. Sitting here in this too-warm bar, surrounded by chatter and light and your head feeling like a feather, you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. You told Matt just as much. He blushes even deeper, then reaches out for your arm.

“We should go join those two before they get themselves into trouble.” He’s the one half-guiding you through the bar, ironically, but you appreciated the help in your current state, plus the physical touch was very much welcomed.

Foggy and Karen had started up their game, not before another round of shots, empty glasses sitting haphazardly on the rail of the pool table. The two of you watched in amusement as they tried their hardest, neither proving to be much competition.

“This is fun,” you said, glancing over to Matt. At this point it was getting late, some of the people starting to leave. Thinking about going home and changing into your comfy clothes and laying in your own bed made you yawn, Matt immediately reciprocating a yawn in turn. You both laugh, and head over to the two drunkards.

“Think we’ve had enough for the night?” Matt aimed mostly at Foggy, who surprised Matt with how quickly he gave in and deflated against his side, drawing him into an awkward hug.

“Yeah buddy. How’re we all getting home?”

You mention that your apartment is less than a couple blocks away, which seems to perk him back up.

“Field trip! C’mon we’re taking you home. Gotta make sure you’re safe. Let’s go guys,” he finishes with an overdramatic twirl, making a beeline for the front door.

The rest of you quickly follow after him, not wanting him to get himself lost, catching up to him just outside of the building. Your little group walks down the sidewalk, Karen and Foggy taking up the front and you and Matt tagging behind. You tilt your head back and breathe in the damp night air, sighing at the soothing feeling.

“You doing okay?” Matt asks out of the silence between the two of you.

“I’m great. This was great. I’d like to do something like this again,” feeling slightly brave, you continue, “maybe just the two of us next time.” You fidget a bit, unable to ignore the nerves even with your dose of liquid courage.

“Yeah, I’d like that too.” His smile is even wider, looking positively gleeful.

“Oh, hey, guys, this is me,” you call out to the two in front of you who’d walked right past the entrance to your building.

They giggle like they had been for the whole walk, stumbling back to you and Matt, who were standing in the yellow light from the glass doorway. After a few drawn out versions of goodbye, Matt managed to wrangle the two of them and head on their own way. He glances back at you.

“See you later?” He asks in an attempt to be cool, mentally kicking himself already, but too busy keeping his friends from wandering off for a better goodbye.

“Yeah, see you Matt.” You bite you lip slightly, enjoying the show of this dishevelled blind man trying to get his inebriated friends home.

He smiles one last time at you, before grabbing an arm from each of them and starting them back down the sidewalk. You can’t help grinning to yourself as you drag yourself up the stairs to your apartment, the bone-tiredness finally sinking in. You manage to clumsily strip out of your clothes and put on one of your loose shirts and shorts. You left your clothes flung across your floor, leaving that to future you. Laying down on your side, you feel the wonderful comfort of your bed on your already sore body, and quickly drift into sleep.

[imaginary-portal]

Neighbors - Part One

Bucky x Fem Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: Y/N works in the Avengers compound with her boyfriend Jonathan. Bucky Barnes lives in the room next door and finds himself falling for Y/N.

Part Two

Masterlist

Enjoy!

_________

"Y/N? Are you with us?" Y/N snapped her head up. She didn't realize she was staring off into space. The recent sleep deprivation has been costly. So costly that occasionally she sleeps with her eyes open. This meeting was important to plan the attack for the next mission. "Yeah. Sorry." She looked around the room, embarrassed. Bucky Barnes shifted in his seat. Y/N sparked his curiosity. He'd noticed her when he first entered the room, but he wasn't sure why she was there. Half of the room was filled with Avengers, the other half was experts and strategists. "Any suggestions?" Tony asked her, testing her attention span. "I'll have to think on it." Y/N said casually. "How about we take a lunch break. Clear our minds. Meet back here in 30 minutes?" Steve suggested. "Sorry, no one told me you're in charge of meetings now." Tony remarked. "Come on Tony. Look around. Everyone's tired. We'll figure it out after." Steve did have a point. Y/N wasn't the only one who looked drained.

During her lunch break, Y/N went back to her room, where she took a quick power nap. Bucky followed behind her, realizing his room was right next to hers. He wanted to know who she was, so he waited in his room until the lunch break was almost over. He left his room the same time as her. "Hey neighbor." Y/N said, looking refreshed. "Hi. I'm Bucky." Y/N shook his non-metal hand. "I know. I'm Y/N, I work in strategy." Bucky nodded, walking along Y/N's side in the hall. "Ah, that's why you were so tired. They overwork you." Y/N nodded. "Precisely. But I've never enjoyed a job as much as this one. I mean come on, I get free meals and lodging. Who'd pass that up?" The two of them laughed as they reentered the meeting room. "Y/N, welcome back. I'm ready to hear your ideas." Tony pressured her immediately.

_________

When the meeting finally ended, everyone left to grab dinner. Y/N sat with one of her colleagues, where they continued the discussion of the meeting. Her wandering glance noticed several times that Bucky was looking at her. He was sitting with the rest of the Avengers, who were talking about getting suit upgrades. Even though he couldn't hear her, he liked the way she talked with people. She seemed very enthusiastic and educated. "Oh, you like smart girl over there?" Natasha said quietly as motioned her head towards Y/N. Bucky shook his head, not realizing how long he'd been watching her. "No, I just didn't know who she was." Natasha smiled. "It's fine Bucky. You see him over there?" She pointed to a security guard in the corner of the room. He looked off into the distance to see the attractive man. Bucky looked back at Natasha, who wiggled her eyebrows. "We all have a normal person that we're interested in." Bucky looked back at Y/N and watched as a man approached her, interrupting her conversation. Y/N looked up at the man with a smile. The man bent down to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Natasha hissed. "Oh, she's taken. Sorry bud." Bucky looked down at his food, no longer interested in anything beyond his plate.

_________

The next day, the team had a successful mission. It did include some hasty improvising that Tony planned to discuss with Y/N about. He was still wearing his iron suit and had scratches on his face but he wanted to be sure Y/N wrote down his critiques. Y/N walked outside, seeing the Avengers standing in a circle, Steve and Natasha sitting on the ground. A medic cleaned up their wounds as Y/N spoke with Tony. Bucky watched the conversation keenly. Y/N took notes and was very receptive to the critiques. For a moment she seemed to be more patient with Tony than Steve was. That was, until she disagreed with Tony on something. Tony claimed that a mistake was due to her strategy but she believed it had to do with his suit. "Let's test it right now. Stand up there, fly down and blast that trash can." Y/N was confident. Tony did as she said, proving her to be right. "I'll let you get away with that for now." Was all Tony said before walking inside. Y/N scribbled something down in her notebook, smiling to herself. When she looked up, she caught eyes with Bucky, maintaining her smile before walking inside.

_________

The team split up for the next mission. Each strategist was assigned an Avenger to tackle individual weaknesses. Since Y/N showed up pretty well to Tony, she got promoted to Chief Strategist. Therefore, she was given the hardest team member to work with: Bucky. Bucky was only hard to work with because he doesn't engage with people often. He likes to have a plan and the less that plan involves other people the better. What Y/N would find, however, is that Bucky is easy to work with, so she didn't exactly understand what people meant by that.

Y/N entered the meeting room with a computer and notepad. Bucky sat at the table, relieved to see Y/N as his strategist. Y/N sat across from him and logged onto her laptop. "So, what do you feel is your biggest weakness on missions?" She stood up to plug her laptop into the projector. Bucky watched her as he tried to think of his answer. "I guess it would be that I can't fly so I'm always stuck on the ground. I rarely have a height leverage." Y/N nodded, sitting back down. "What if I told you that doesn't really put you at a disadvantage?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "I mean, if flying was the main priority for a mission, only half of the team would be going. After looking at some of Tony's footage, it looks to me that your main weakness is your range." Y/N played a clip on the projector that showed Bucky falling because he couldn't reach behind him. "That metal arm isn't so flexible, yeah?" Bucky sat, astonished. "Yeah, you know what, you're right. I never realized that before." Y/N nodded, typing something on her computer. "So I scheduled you some training sessions this week. They're gonna teach you some new combat moves and flexibility, so it shouldn't be as much of a problem anymore." Bucky nodded, content with the plan.

"Wow. That was easy." Y/N said. "They told me you were the hardest to work with but if I was with Tony I'd be in a meeting for hours." They both laughed as Y/N shut her laptop. "So how's the compound life treating you?" Y/N switched topics. Bucky shrugged. "I mean I can't complain. I've spent a lot of time living in torture chambers." Y/N nodded, understanding the seriousness of the conversation. "I read that in your file. Are you getting any help for dealing with that stuff? You know, mental health is just as important as your physical health." Bucky shrugged again, not really answering her question. "Well there's a lot of resources here so use whatever you need. Not to sound corny, but I'm also available if you ever need someone to talk to. You know where my room is. My door is always open, unless my boyfriend is sleeping, in which case I advise you not to come to our door." Y/N laughed, realizing the ramble she went on. “Wanna grab lunch? I’m starving.” Bucky took up her offer, walking by her side in the halls. Along the way, he got a whiff of her perfume, which was a pleasant and enticing scent.

“Are you single? I can hook you up with my friend Clara. She’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet.” Bucky shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Thank you but I’m not interested in a relationship right now.” Bucky lied. To tell the truth he was lonely. To tell another truth he was interested in Y/N. “Understandable.” Y/N said as Bucky swallowed his food. “So what’s your boyfriend like?” Y/N bit her lip as she thought of the perfect way to describe him. “Jonathan works over in aircraft. He’s very logical, focused. He has big plans here.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “What about you? Do you have plans here?” Y/N nodded, poking around at her side salad. “I do, but they’re not as ambitious as his, you know? I’m already Chief of Strategy so I’m not sure how much further I can go.” Bucky shook his head. “Don’t limit yourself. I can tell you got potential.” Y/N smiled at his compliment. “Thanks Bucky, you’re a nice guy. What about you? Do plan to stay here, work government contracts?” Bucky nodded. “For now. But I guess wherever Steve goes I’ll go.” Y/N awed. “That’s sweet. I love a good friendship.” They both sat in an awkward silence as they thought of something to say. “What do you do for fun?” Bucky scrunched his eyebrows. “I don’t do anything.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Come on. You gotta do something. You like music? Movies?” Bucky shrugged. “40s music is nice.” Y/N's eyes beamed. "Oh you must know Frank Sinatra, yeah?" Bucky nodded. "Yeah he's all right." Y/N took a large bite of food. "Classic." she said with a mouthful.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't two troublemakers." A man approached the table from behind Y/N. "Jonathan!" Y/N said, excited. She pulled out the chair next to her and the man took a seat, plopping his food on the table. "As you may know, this is Bucky." Y/N tried introducing the two, and Bucky corrected her by saying "James" as he shook Jonathan's hand. Y/N's eyebrow wrinkled. "You do nice work out there, kicking ass." Jonathan complimented as he began eating. Bucky nodded and looked down at his food, no longer interested in conversation. "How's aircraft today?" Y/N asked Jonathan. "Stupid, as usual." Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but Bucky took him seriously. "What's stupid about it?" Jonathan swallowed and wiped a crumb out of the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Everyone is so caught up in team work when sometimes things could be faster if we just worked alone." Y/N chuckled to herself. "Easy for you to say when you know everything that goes on there. Not everyone is as advanced as you." Bucky held back an eye roll, growing a distaste for the way Y/N was feeding the man's ego. Jonathan caught onto this, sensing a feeling of disapproval from Bucky. "You'll see. Things will be better once I'm promoted to supervisor." No one replied, instead eating more food.

"So how did you two meet? Is Bucky not logical enough or something?" Jonathan tried cracking a joke. "No, we just split up into groups so everyone needed help." Y/N rebutted. Jonathan shook his head. "They just say that to make the weaker ones feel better. The airborne Avengers: Iron Man, Vision, Falcon, their combat is much more calculated, less error." Y/N smacked Jonathan's shoulder. Bucky expressed an eye roll this time. He didn't know why he was still sitting with this obnoxious couple. "Be nice. And that's not true. Remember when I told you I proved Tony wrong about his suit versus my strategy?" Jonathan shook his head, a confused look on his face. "Well anyways, that's how I got promoted. I'm at a higher rank than you now." She stuck her tongue out a Jonathan, who gave her a kiss on the lips, smirking at Bucky as he pulled away. Y/N regained composure, wiping a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry Bucky. I promise he's nice when he opens up to you." She looked at her watch. "Shit. I have a meeting in five minutes. I'll see you guys later." Y/N quickly grabbed her bag, gave Jonathan a kiss on the cheek, and promptly left. The two men sat in an awkward silence. Jonathan swallowed the last bite of his food, glaring at Bucky.

"You don't go taking my girl, got it?" Asshole. Bucky nodded affirmatively, picking up his trash and leaving the table. ——————

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