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lilasamaaa · 7 months ago

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Miss missing you | Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt.

Word count | 2.1K

Warnings | Breakup, depressing thoughts, mentions of cheating.

Summary | Reader wakes up the day after her breakup with Charles and reflects on their relationship. Inspired by the song "Miss Missing You" by Fall Out Boy. Author's note | Sorry for being criminally addicted to writing sad things.

Don't panic, no, not yet

The living room shutter is closed. Impenetrable.

She has no idea how long she's been like this, slumped on her couch in the dark, her face irritated by the relentless assault of her tears. Outside, she knows life has gone on without her. She suspects the sun has risen, like every morning. That darkness has given way to light, like every morning. She even heard her neighbors in the hallway, heading to work. Like every morning.

Taking a deep breath, she feels her heart and throat tighten, tears doubling. She didn't even know she had that much water in her body. It's not just an ordinary morning. It's the first of many mornings where she will wake up with her heart in pieces.

I know I'm the one you want to forget

She remembers, a few years ago, listening to Taylor Swift's "Mr. Perfectly Fine" for days on a row. She remembers cursing Joe Jonas, she even remembers feeling so sorry for Taylor. What kind of guy breaks up with his girlfriend over the phone?

Well, Charles, apparently.

She's not stupid, not blind, not even a little naive.

She had felt it coming. Had noticed him slowly drifting away. The calls were less frequent, and the ones she managed to intercept, shorter. She knows there was someone else. Maybe multiple someones. They'd somehow stopped talking about him, about her, about them. They only talked about races, cars, airplane trips. That's the only thing that seemed to keep them together. The only thing that had brought them together in the first place. She, the daughter of the CEO of one of Ferrari's sponsors. Him, the one who wore the suit with the logo printed on it.

Cue all the love to leave my heart, It's time for me to fall apart

She wished her heart would close. She wished she could block his access to it. She wished she could reclaim it, as one might retrieve the keys to an apartment once shared. But that bastard remains wide open. It's almost embarrassing, the way her heart, cruelly empty, hopes to be filled again. To feel his warmth once more. To beat for him again.

Her mind has stopped functioning, but her heart, somehow, hasn't stopped. It keeps beating, selfishly. It keeps her alive. For what? To feel the hurt, the betrayal, the despair? Honestly, it's not worth the effort. The poor thing should have just stopped.

Now you're gone, but I'll be okay, Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flame

She's young. She's had flings, but she's always been the one to end them. Charles was her first serious relationship. The only significant one, actually. She didn't think the pain would be so raw, so physical. She feels like she can sense her heart crumbling a little more each time she thinks of him. She feels it in her chest, swelling, taking up space, trying to escape. It wants to leave her body. To break free from this darkened, wounded brain that suffocates it.

She's not against the idea. It can leave. She can function without it. She's almost convinced of it, if that's what it takes to feel alive again. To feel like her again.

Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight, Let the fire breathe me back to life

Her heart isn't the first to be broken. Won't be the last.

She's heard stories from friends, from close ones, who've gone through breakups. Today, she feels so foolish for feeling so little concern about those stories back then. She's always been a listening ear, an unwavering support. She's sat in bars, cafés, bedrooms, listening to stories of betrayal and broken promises, and she simply didn't believe it would ever happen to her. As if she were above the laws. Above all that. She remembers listening to tales of broken hearts like children listen to myths of dragons, of wizards, of magic.

That's what it was for her. Fantasy. Something so unreal, so inconceivable.

Even though it hurts, she has sworn to let herself feel everything. The good as well as the bad. She knows that one day, she will look back on this period of her life, and she won't be overwhelmed by sorrow and pain anymore. But today, she has to go through it, let the flames lick her body to better heal her wounds later.

Baby you were my picket fence, I miss missing you, now and then

She'd never introduced a boyfriend to her family. Never envisioned a future with anyone. Never looked at houses with anyone. But with him, she did. A few months ago, while strolling on the hills of Monaco, she'd passed by a gate behind which a stone path led to a discreet little house. She'd fallen in love with the garden bordered by trees and flowers. She'd liked the color of the gate surrounding the property. She'd even found charm in the slightly crooked chimney protruding from the roof. She'd taken a photo of the "For Sale" sign and sent it to Charles. He had responded with a series of emojis (a face with hearts for eyes, sparkles, a star, the rest she can't remember). He had promised to call to set up a visit.

She would never walk down the stone path.

Chlorine kissed, summer skin, I miss missing you, now and then

She's never been drawn to wealth. She was born into it. Penthouses, luxury cars, diamonds hold no charm in her eyes. She's always been searching for more authentic, more simple things.

One summer when Charles had suggested a yacht outing, the lovers had ended up on a poorly patched-up rowboat that was taking on water. The monacan had complained all afternoon, but she still remembers the sensation of lying against him, against his warm, salty skin, alone in the world in their small boat. A feeling that no amount of money could ever buy. A feeling that no amount of money could ever get her back.

Sometimes before it gets better, The darkness gets bigger

What had begun as sweet and innocent had taken a turn.

Times were tough. His job was demanding. Exhausting. She did her best to support him, to show him he could lean on her anytime he needed. He wouldn't talk. Little by little, she was abandoning more and more things from her daily life to dedicate herself to his. His stability. His success. His worries. Sometimes, she felt like she was losing herself, but she knew it was temporary. She thought she would soon get the old Charles back. Even when he started going out late. Even when he started coming home late. Even when he started not coming home at all.

The endless suffering hadn't brought her anything. In fact, it had taken everything from her.

The person that you'd take a bullet for, Is behind the trigger

She knew the signs, had seen them in her own parents. When they ate together, he could go through the entire meal without meeting her gaze. When she placed her hands on his body, he would sometimes shiver. Not the shiver of anticipation from the early days. The kind that suggested he didn't deserve the display of affection.

Her own friends seemed oblivious to the situation. "I ran into Charles yesterday, at the club," "I saw Charles in town with a friend", "Aren't you with Charles today?". Were they trying to pretend everything was fine to protect her? Or were they already distancing themselves from a situation they didn't want to witness?

Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you, now and then

She pinpointed the breaking point as her sister's wedding. How ironic, she'd thought. Celebrating love, respect, and unity when I feel none of these things in my own relationship. Charles had arrived late, his hair disheveled, tie slightly askew. She had felt tears burning behind her eyes, had bitten her cheek to hold back from exploding in the middle of the church. She refused to believe that he had done that to her. That he had disrespected her on this day, in this place. Her entire family had cast a glance in her direction, had observed the way Charles had slipped between the guests to sit next to her. Without a glance. Without a touch. Her sister, speech in hand, had taken a few seconds to start. "With you by my side, I know I can face anything," she had started saying to her husband, letting her eyes meet the teary ones of her little sister.

Making eyes at this husk, around my heart, I see through you and we're sitting in the dark

He told her everything, recounted everything to her. From what he felt in the car during a race to his latest argument with his brother. She read him like an open book, could anticipate every word, every gesture, every thought, even. To joke around, she often said she knew him better than she knew herself. Upon reflection, they got together when they were eighteen. Had she even had time to get to know herself, or had she cowardly built herself around him?

The idea of pursuing her life's journey without him terrified her. She didn't know who she was, who she wanted to be. She didn't even know if she liked herself. She sometimes wondered if he knew her as well as she knew him. If he knew her favorite color, her favorite song, her favorite season. She always ended up pushing those somber thoughts away, reminding herself that these concerns were those of a schoolgirl, and got back to her duties. To taking care of him.

So give me your filth, make it rough, Let me, let me, trash your love

She was gentle, with a calm nature, almost maternal.

She never lost her composure, never raised her voice. But she had yelled that day. When they arrived home after the church ceremony. She would never forget, and he probably wouldn't either, how her voice had broken when she had shouted three words, three little words that had been enough to shatter everything. "Who is she?".

She, who admired him so much, who thought of him as a man of the purest and most sincere nature. She had given him a chance to repent. He hadn't seized it, hanging his head low. That day, facing her anger, the pain of a betrayed woman, she'd found him so small that he was almost ridiculous. He hadn't responded, of course. Hadn't said a word.

I will sing to you everyday, If it will take away the pain

She'd stayed. She wasn't sure if love made her do it. Perhaps it was out of habit. Or masochism. But she had stayed, and life had resumed just as it was before, for a few weeks. They had started waking up side by side again, sharing their day over a meal again.

Making love, again. She hadn't even realized they had stopped touching each other, desiring each other. How long had it lasted? A week? A month? Six?

He played the piano in the evening, proclaiming a love strong and indestructible over the keys, letting his fingers glide from white to black, filling the apartment with sounds and colors that had disappeared. Of feelings that had disappeared.

Oh, and I heard you've got it, got it so bad, 'Cause I am the best you'll ever have

She had let herself dream of the life before.

A life where Charles had only touched her, only tasted her. A life where she didn't discreetly grab his phone every night when his breathing indicated he was asleep. A life where she didn't send messages to Carlos at all hours of the day and night to find out where he was, with whom he was when she wasn't there. A life where her sister didn't regularly tell her how worried she was about her, finding her too thin, too stressed, too distracted.

So, she had left. She had left the spare keys he had given her on the dining table. She had fled his apartment and returned to hers, the one she had just planned on returning the keys to the owner, ready to move in permanently with him. She had spent three days alone, spending entire days in the dark. Ignoring the messages and calls of her mother, her father, her sister. Carlos, too.

Baby you were my picket fence,

By the end of the third day, he had finally called, and after three rings, she had picked up.

Neither of them had spoken for several seconds.

Then, he had done it. For the first time in months, he had been honest with her.

"It's not working anymore," he had sighed into the phone. "I can't do it anymore."

She had hung up.

Lain down on the sofa.

Waited for the day to save her from the night.

I miss missing you, now and then,

Now and then.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #carlos sainz #fall out boy #miss missing you

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mightystumpmachine · 6 months ago

Note

urgent request (?

Patrick stump x PETE SISTER! Yeah, it's a cliché but listen!! It's Pete's birthday and the reader for some reason gets along badly with the guys. But that same night she meets Patrick and sees that he's not a jerk or something like that.Idk stumpmachine, surprise me. (((I love the cliché))))

God, I hadn't written about «Pete's sister» in YEARS!!! You made me go back to my preadolescence on Wattpad, thank you for this, I've had so much fun, and hopefully you like the result :') I also love the cliché, although I'm not sure if I did it justice in this fic 💗

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜・。。・゜★

Golden Memories.

(Patrick Stump x Fem! Reader) [Female reader sister of Pete wentz]

🎈Summary: It's Pete's birthday and you get along really badly with most of his friends, so you decide to go outside for some air and discover that maybe not all of Pete's friends are jerks.

🎈Warnings: mention and consumption of alcoholic drinks. And I think that's all lol.

🎈Fic Type: fluff; slice of life; romance.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜・。。・゜★

It was a typical hot night in early July in Chicago, but it wasn’t just any day—it was your older brother Pete’s birthday.

The Wentz house was filled with people celebrating, drinking, and dancing. You, however, felt a bit out of place.

You had tried to join the party, but most of Pete’s friends seemed unbearable and even a bit idiotic to you, honestly. Except for Joe, with whom you had exchanged a few words and found him funny and charismatic.

However, you had lost Joe at some point during the night among the crowd and alcohol, and now you were alone, overwhelmed by the loud music.

You decided to go out to the backyard to smoke a cigarette and take a break from the noise.

The yard was lit by warm lights hanging from a couple of posts and bushes, creating a cozy and relaxed atmosphere. There were also a few helium balloons tied to the bushes and colorful letters on the wall spelling out: “Happy Birthday, Pete.”

You leaned on a wooden railing and lit the cigarette, enjoying the night breeze and the relative silence compared to the inside of the house.

You thought it might have been a good idea to call one of your friends so you wouldn’t be completely alone. But, to be honest, you didn’t think the party would get this out of hand.

You weren’t even aware Pete had so many friends. You wondered if he really knew all the people who were now dancing and maybe throwing up in the corners of your house. You had even seen a couple in a heated make-out session on Pete’s bed.

You sighed, knowing you had to prepare for the scolding from your mother, who had gone to a friend’s house and trusted the house to Pete and you, believing that at most five people would come over.

A few minutes later, you heard the sliding door open, pulling you out of your thoughts. You saw Patrick, Pete’s best friend, the blonde who always wore some kind of tilted trucker hat on his head and those peculiar sideburns framing his face.

He had a slight frown and seemed a bit uncomfortable with the environment, just like you.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, which eventually became a bit awkward, so he decided to approach, giving a small smile.

“You’re Pete’s sister, right?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, exhaling the cigarette smoke. “Though they also call me _____,” you joked.

He laughed a little. “I’m Patrick,” he introduced himself, though you knew perfectly well who he was.

Obviously, you had seen Patrick come to your house very often, along with Joe and Andy. But, particularly Patrick had always attracted you a bit. You found him cute and kind, though you had never approached him, assuming he would be like the other friends of Pete.

Seeing that the silence had invaded again, you took out your pack of cigarettes and offered him one. He immediately shook his head, trying to hide a grimace of disgust.

“I don’t smoke, but thanks.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised, to which he smiled shyly.

He leaned on the wooden railing, right next to you, and let out a sigh, feeling a bit more relaxed.

“So... are you having fun?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Pete knows how to throw a good party, I won’t deny that,” he replied. “But it’s not my style... I prefer quieter things. But he seemed so excited that I couldn’t say no.”

You nodded, understanding perfectly. “I feel the same way. I like to drink and hang out, but with a smaller group... plus here I don’t get along with anyone.”

Patrick looked at you for a few seconds.

“Well... you have company now,” he dared to say.

You laughed softly and the blonde just looked at you smiling with a frown, not quite understanding what had caused you to laugh.

“Sorry, it’s just that I really thought all of Pete’s friends were dicks, so being here with one of them is a bit funny to me,” you replied.

“I understand,” he said with a laugh. “Most are cool, maybe you just had bad experiences... at least I hope you don’t think that about me.”

Patrick looked at you, waiting for your response. You shrugged.

“So far, you’ve changed my mind,” you said. “Maybe... not all of them.”

The conversation continued, now more fluidly, talking about shared interests and funny anecdotes. You noticed that Patrick was much more interesting and nice than you had imagined.

At some point, you both decided to go inside to get something to drink, and although Patrick didn’t like to drink too much, this time he agreed to have a few beers with you.

The night went on and the heat didn’t lessen, leaving a fresh breeze that felt like a relief on the skin. You decided to sit on one of the chairs in the yard, away from the noise and curious glances.

“You know... you’re also nicer than I imagined,” Patrick said suddenly. “I think you’re great.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed. “And what did you think of me before? I mean... this isn’t the first time we’ve seen each other, you come over here often to see Pete,” you dared to ask with a hint of curiosity.

Clearly, at this point, you were both more uninhibited because of the alcohol, you had drunk a lot and neither of you was used to drinking that much.

Patrick laughed softly, looking at the ground before responding.

“To be honest, I always saw you as very much in your own world and we barely said hello. I figured you weren’t interested in talking to us,” he spoke a bit hesitantly. “However, you always caught my attention… but you’re a bit intimidating.”

You laughed as soon as he finished speaking. “Do you think I’m intimidating?”

Patrick nodded, embarrassed.

“Just a little?” Both laughed at the confession. “Anyway, I’m glad I decided to talk to you today. I had no idea how much I was missing out on.”

You smiled, feeling flattered. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying, but I love to hear that.”

Both laughed again and the silence that followed was comfortable. Just enjoying the tranquility of the yard and each other’s company.

Patrick looked at you from time to time, with an expression that seemed to be debating between timidity and the courage to say something else.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, noticing his intermittent gaze at you.

He lowered his head and smiled, a little blushed. “Nothing, just... it’s nice being with you.”

You didn’t know... but actually, Patrick was thinking about why he had never noticed how pretty you were until that moment.

The hours started to pass quickly, and you were making the most of every second to get to know each other.

You had stopped drinking because you didn’t want to be more drunk than you already were (on the verge of being drunk but still in your senses).

At some point, between anecdotes and bad jokes (really Bad jokes), you found yourself laughing at something Patrick had said.

You noticed how close you two were, and Patrick also realized it. Your gazes crossed, creating a bit of tension.

He blushed intensely, turning a ruby red, but didn’t pull away.

You didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol running through your veins or because he simply seemed attractive to you, but you decided to take the initiative and kissed him softly.

At first, Patrick stayed still out of surprise, but soon he responded to the kiss, feeling a comforting warmth.

The world seemed to stop around you, you felt a kind of electricity in the air that enveloped you.

Just when the kiss was becoming slightly more intense, the sliding door opened abruptly, revealing a very happy Pete, totally drunk and laughing out loud.

“Well, well! Look who we have here!” he exclaimed, slightly staggering. “‘Oh Pete... all your friends are idiotic losers,’” your brother mimicked in a high-pitched voice, teasing you.

You pulled away from Patrick, completely blushing. Patrick was also very embarrassed, but couldn’t help laughing.

“Pete, you’re totally drunk,” Patrick said, trying to maintain his composure.

Pete laughed even harder and completely ignored his friend. Staggering a bit, he pointed at you two. “This is great! I never would have imagined... JOE, GET THE CAMERA! This will go in my golden memories!”

“Why don’t you go back inside and stop embarrassing yourself? Us, really!” you suggested, half amused and half mortified.

“Alright, alright,” he complained. “But first let me give you my blessing, my dear siblings, don’t get into trouble,” Pete burst into laughter and turned around to go back to the party, muttering something about this being the best birthday ever.

Before leaving, Pete turned once more, this time pointing at Patrick with a mocking smile: “So you don’t know how to flirt with girls, huh? Gotcha, you dirty little man!”

Patrick looked at you with a small smile, completely red with embarrassment. “I think I’ve never seen Pete this drunk.”

You nodded, still incredulous at what had happened. “I’m so sorry for that, he’s an idiot,” you laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry, I know,” he replied. Still a bit shy, Patrick took your hand.

“How about we forget what just happened?” you suggested after a few seconds in silence.

Patrick looked at you with a hint of disappointment, “All of it?”

“No, just Pete,” you said, stealing a small kiss that he immediately returned.

The night wasn’t over yet, but you knew this July night would be etched in your memory.

#patrick stump imagines #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump x female reader #fob imagines #Patrick stump fanfiction #fall out boy imagines #one shot #fluff

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americas1suiteheart · 10 months ago

Text

This is also another one that hasn't been requested, but the FOB brain rot is real guys. Anyways, this one isn't exactly age accurate I guess?? More so of an AU if anything.

How Misery Loved Me

Patrick Stump x Fem! Reader

[Tumblr did it again and ruined the quality of my gif..]

Summary; I don't know how to write summaries for works that aren't requested, my bad, guys this is my own fault, especially when I know I have asks.💀

Notes; I'm sorry it's another fem reader but school is piling up and finals week is coming up and I still want to write, but fem readers are easier right now. I also just gave the girl that went to the dance with Pete a random name. (This is one of the corniest and most cliché things I've ever written).

Warnings; Mutual pining, foul language, some angst, and there's multiple pov changes.

Word Count; 10,307

0:54 ──ㅇ─────── 3:00

"So, which one do you think looks better?" You ask, turning around to look at Patrick, who was sitting on your bed.

"That one's nice, but I think the second one you wore was better. But seriously, I think you should pick which one you want."

"That's the thing though; I don't know which one I want to wear because I like three of them," You say, falling face down onto the bed in the spot where all the previously discarded dresses were.

"Then take all the other dresses out and pick just those three, and then we can narrow it down to what you want," Patrick says, looking down at you.

You groan and turn over, then get up again, beginning to pick all of the other dresses except for the three that you liked, hanging all of the other ones back up and putting them into your closet.

You take the three other dresses with you behind the divider you had in your room, changing into one of the dresses and walking back out.

"Okay, this one has a pretty colour and it's comfortable, but I think it's just a little too short for my liking, so I think this one can go." You say, looking at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out the dress.

You walk back behind the divider, changing into the second dress and hanging the other one back up.

"This one is a perfect length, and it's a nice colour but the straps constantly fall off my shoulders, but I think if I were to sew them to fit me, or even just safety pin them to my bra, it would probably be okay."

You do the same as you did before, going back to the divider, changing into the other dress, and walking back out.

"This one is comfortable, and it fits good, as well as a good length, but I'm afraid that it's going to end up being too much." You say, looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around.

"That's the one that I liked. I don't think it's too much, though. It looks nice on you," Patrick says, scooting farther back onto the bed.

"So, should I wear this one or the other one?" You ask, looking down at yourself, feeling the material of the dress in between your fingers.

"I think that one,"

You nod, smiling as you go back to behind the divider, changing into your pyjamas this time and laying the dress down nicely for Friday's dance, then putting the other one away into your closet.

After doing so, you close up the divider and lay down on your bed halfway with your legs dangling off of it. You close your eyes and listen to the music playing from your CD player, nodding your head to the song.

You open your eyes slightly, looking up at Patrick and admiring his features. His hair was medium length, with those sideburns that you adored so much. Oh and his smile, he could light up a room with that smile. His eyes were such a pretty blue.

You see Patrick look down at you and then quickly look away when he sees that you were staring at him, you doing the same.

You quickly sit back up from your bed and walk to your player to change the CD.

"I still haven't completed the math homework that's due Thursday and was thinking about what other ones I still had to do. Have you done them yet?" You say trying to get rid of the awkwardness, taking your Catalyst CD by New Found Glory out of its case, then taking the other one out of the player and replacing it, pushing the play button and turning up the volume dial.

You turn back around and see Patrick's eyes widen.

"Oh shoot! I forgot about that! What was it again?" Patrick asks, his hands covering his face.

"We just have to do the problems on page 27 from our books, it's not that hard but I can let you copy mine if you want, I'm not done with it yet so you'll have to finish the rest." You say, walking over to your bag to get your book out.

"That would be awesome, I'll just copy them down on a paper if you don't mind it,"

"Knock yourself out, 'Trick,"

You place the book down onto your small desk in the corner of your room. The desk had scattered sheet music, old graded history and english papers, a table lamp and pencil jar placed on the left, and your closed laptop sitting in the middle of the desk.

The wall it was facing was decorated with old concert tickets and wristbands, framed pictures of you and your family, as well as unframed pictures of you and the rest of the boys, most of them of you and Patrick.

Patrick walks to the desk, sitting down in the chair and grabbing one of your blank lined papers from a spot where more sheet music books were stacked up.

You sit back down onto your bed, humming the beginning of All Downhill From Here to yourself and picking at the fibers on the plush throw.

"Has anyone asked you to homecoming yet?" Patrick says, still looking at the book and copying it down.

"No, not yet. I honestly wouldn't mind not getting asked and just hanging out with you and the rest of the guys though,"

"Really? I'm surprised no one has yet. But Pete has a date to homecoming now actually so I think it would be just me, Andy, and Joe together," Patrick says, placing the pencil down and turning around in the swivel chair.

"Pete got a date? Did he finally ask that girl?" You ask.

"Yup, he lit her yard on fire with the word "homecoming?" and she said yes," He explains.

"He lit her yard on fire?! I don't know about her but if someone lit my yard on fire to ask me to some dance saying yes would be the last thing i'd do, I think that's just common sense though, or at least it should be, but apparently not for her!" You exclaim, looking at Patrick in shock.

"Yeah, I told him it was a bad idea too and he still did it. I've got to give it to him though, at least he was confident enough to do that and it actually got him a date," Patrick laughs.

"Are you going to ask anyone to the dance?"

"I want to ask this one girl, but I don't think I'm going to end up actually doing it, I'm not as confident as Pete is when it comes to that sort of stuff," Patrick says, spinning around in the chair.

Ouch.

"Anyways, I should probably get going now though, it's going get dark out soon and my curfew is coming up, I don't need my mom yelling at me again," Patrick says, getting up from the chair and walking over to you.

"Oh shoot, have you really been here that long? I didn't mean to keep you here that long, sorry about that," You say, getting up.

"Don't apologise, I like hanging out with you, it's much better than just sitting in my bed reading comics the whole time. I mean, I love those comics but again, I much prefer hanging out with you instead," Patrick says awkwardly.

"Okay, get going though, it'll be too dark for you to walk home soon enough," You say.

You give Patrick a hug, him leaning down a little bit as he was just ever so slightly taller than you.

"Alright, bye Y/n, I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for letting me copy, you seriously just saved my ass," Patrick says, opening your door and leaving the room.

You close the door and sigh, sitting at your desk, finishing the last three problems you had, then turning off your lamp and CD player.

You get your bed ready to sleep in, putting the extra pillow on the floor and get under the covers.

I'm so stupid, he's nothing more than a friend and it's always going to be that way, stop creating these stupid thoughts in your head.

You sigh and close your eyes, falling asleep within a few minutes.

---------------------------------------

-Patrick's POV-

"Dude just ask her. If you don't ask soon then some other guy will. There's only two days until homecoming, she's going to get asked, Patrick, believe me." Pete says, leaning against the lockers next to mine.

"I don't know, Pete. I mean, if she says no then it's going to be awkward between us or something, I don't want that." I say, rummaging through my locker for my math book.

"Believe me, Patrick, she'll say yes." Pete puts an arm on my shoulder and gives me a look.

I sigh and close my locker, not being able to find the book. It's fine, I didn't need it right now anyways. I'll have to look for it when I get home though.

The bell rings and I walk to my class with Pete, him departing ways with me shortly after as he had a different class this period.

God I really don't want to be here right now.

Ding! -"Good Morning everyone! Today is Thursday and it's currently 20 degrees out. The yearbook club is meeting today during lunch, as well as chess and game club. Those that need to retake their photos have today and tomorrow to do so, and those that need to retake any midterm tests will do so next week on Tuesday in the Algebra classroom or room B213. And now for the most exciting announcement; homecoming is coming up tomorrow and tickets are still being sold during lunch time, so maybe get yourself and a special someone a ticket as they won't be sold at the door. Those that are helping plan the dance will need to meet in the student lounge until Friday. Have a great day, and once again buy those tickets!"- Click!

'Ugh. Another reminder that I still don't have the balls to ask her out to the dance.' I think to myself, pinching the bridge of my nose and getting all of my things out for the class.

I sit through the class, taking notes as the teacher talks, ignoring the balls of scrunched up papers being thrown across the classroom. The class seemed to go on so much longer than it usually felt like it did, but maybe it might be the rowdiness of my classmates.

I finish the class and continue to go to all of my other periods until lunchtime. Finding my regular table with everyone else and place my bag down and head to the lunchline, which was almost always shorter except for Wednesdays as the food tended to be much better then everything else all the other days.

Honestly though, most of everyone's lunch breaks are just spent waiting in line unless you either got lucky enough to be first or if you brought your own lunch for the day.

After standing in the line and finally getting my tray, I head back to the table.

"...No, no, no, no, no. You don't understand guys, this is like, the first time I've ever been asked to any kind of dance ever. This is huge for me!" Y/n exclaims, slamming their hands on the table.

"I don't know man, the guy that asked you is kind of an asshole," Andy says, everyone else other than Y/n agreeing.

Shit, I should've listened to Pete.

"Come on dude, you're really gonna ditch me, Patrick and Andy for some guy that you've never had a conversation with?" Joe says as he continues chewing on his sandwich.

I place my tray onto the table, sitting down in between Pete and Y/n in the seat that I was always in.

"Pat! Hold on I was looking for one of my CD's this morning when I was getting ready and found this under one of my blankets I had on the floor. I think you might've left it the last time we studied together." Y/n says, pulling a large math book out of her bag and handing it to me.

"Oh shit, thanks, Y/n. I was looking for this earlier this morning," I say, taking the book from her hands, looking at it for a second and then placing it inside my bag.

"Yeah no problem. Oh, oh! You'll never guess what happened during the second passing period," She says excitedly, grabbing my left shoulder and shaking it slightly, then patting her hand quickly on it.

"What happened?" I ask, taking a bite out of the sandwich on my tray of food.

"So, you know that guy Mark in our chemistry class right? He kinda has like this dark brown semi-curly hair, the one that always wears that letterman jacket,"

"The guy that pushed me directly into that one girl because I wouldn't give him my notes?" I say, swallowing the bite of my sandwich and opening my carton of milk.

"He did that to you?" Y/n asks, gently placing her hand on my back.

I dismiss her hand, "That doesn't really matter, did he ask you to the dance?"

Y/n's face had a hurt look, one that I couldn't quite place my finger on. Her face then softened, continuing with what she was saying.

"But uh, yeah. He asked me if I wanted to be his date to homecoming and I said yes. He's not a bad looking guy so I figured why not," She finishes, giving a small shrug.

I nod slowly, staying silent as I continue taking bites out of my sandwich, listening to everyone else talk about their own things for the remainder of the lunch period.

I get up and throw my tray with everyone else, grabbing my bag and waiting for Y/n at the table so we can walk to class together.

How come you always have to chicken out on things like this? If you don't start saying something soon to her she's going to-

A sudden light punch on my arm brings me out of my trance, I turn to see Y/n and gently punch her back, smiling at her.

"You okay, Pat?" She asks, a soft smile on her face.

I nod my head, starting to walk with her to our next class together. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just got lost in my head for a second there". Y/n hums and continues walking, pushing past everyone else in the crowded hallway.

Does it make me a bad friend for not being completely happy for Y/n, anyone would be but I can't seem to shake off this feel of jealousy in my body.

Me and Y/n enter the classroom, going to our shared work table and place our bags down on the floor next to it and take our seats.

"What did we work on yesterday in this class? I dozed off," Y/n whispers.

"Oh, I could tell. Did you know that you snore?" I say jokingly.

"Oh shut up, I was out for forty minutes, but can you please tell me what we did?" Y/n says sarcastically, giving me a light punch in the arm.

"We just had a study hall for class. Mr Hadford didn't feel like teaching so he just told us to do whatever, so you're fine unless you absolutely needed to work on something else,"

"Good to know," Y/n places her head onto my shoulder.

---------------------------

-Reader's POV-

"Come on, Y/n. Are you sure you really want to go with Mark Anderson? The guy is a douche, you've seen how he treats people like us!" Pete exclaims.

"What do you mean by people like us? Pete?" I ask, turning around from my desk to look at Pete.

Pete was over at your house because you two wanted to hang out together. He was in the same spot that Patrick sat in your bed the other night. You couldn't help but feel slightly upset with yourself that you agreed to go with mark instead of asking Patrick to go with you. Or instead, hoping Patrick would ask you.

Sure, it'd always been fun just going with the rest of them, you guys just did your own thing and stayed together, dancing how you wanted without caring if other people thought it was odd, because all five of you always had fun.

But for once someone had actually asked you, wanted to go with you, and to be honest, some terrible part of you wished that Patrick would get jealous and ask you to go with him instead.

"You know what I mean by that, Y/n. We've always been the geeks no one else really hangs out with, we've always been the only ones that hang out with each other, because be honest with yourself, when was the last time we ever talked with other people for more than a class period?" Pete explains.

You turn away, going back to what you were doing before. You hated that he was right. Why would some asshole jock ask you in the first place, you'd never even talked to him until earlier, and the conversation lasted 2 minutes at most.

"I didn't mean to be mean, well, maybe just a little, but I have a bad feeling that Mark didn't have good intentions when asking you." Pete says, getting up from the bed, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"But what if Mark is being genuine? What if I said no and missed out on something that could be serious?" I sigh, turning to face Pete.

"But Mark really isn't the best person at all. I mean, he's done something shitty to most of us by now, who knows if he'll do it again, or to you.. As your friend, I don't want you getting hurt, and neither would the rest of the guys, especially Patrick, and you know that. At least I would hope you do,"

"I know, I know.. It's just, ugh god. I mean, you can't say anything, you asked that poor girl by lighting her front yard on fire!"

"So? At least I'm a better guy than Mark Anderson. The guy is notorious for being a douchebag, don't compare me to him." Pete says, falling down onto my bed dramatically.

God, Pete is starting to make me question my decisions, maybe I should listen to him, what if Mark really does have bad intentions.

"I can't believe you didn't ask Patrick to go with you. You know he wouldn't have said no, right?" Pete says, his arm over his eyes.

"When he was here the other night I asked him if he was going to ask anyone to the dance and he said that he wanted to ask this girl. I didn't bother after that, if he already had someone in mind I wasn't going to ask, I don't want to be that type of girl. I've seen other girls do that to guys and it either makes them feel like they're being pressured or in an awkward sort of position." You sigh, finishing organizing the plethora of loose sheet music on your desk and placing it in a folder.

"Whatever man. All I'm saying is that you could've said no to Mark and hung out with the rest of the guys. You didn't have to go with him."

"Piss off, Wentz. I don't want your shitty advice, it's just making me feel worse," You say annoyed.

"I had the balls to ask someone I liked to homecoming, you didn't. You made a mistake and still insist that 'oh come on Pete, he can't be that bad, even if he made your guys' lives miserable, I'm pretty sure he'll be nice even if we haven't ever talked to each other, I want to give this dumb asshole a chance.' And to be honest Y/n, you're kind of a dumbass for that." Pete was now standing up, stopping in front of you two feet away, rolling his eyes and mimicking you.

"Get the fuck out of my room, Pete.." You say, your voice starting to get that raw feeling and tears threatening to form in your eyes. You felt stupid for starting to cry over something you started.

Pete storms out of the room closing your door, you could tell how annoyed he was by the sound of how loud his footsteps were, then leaving your house with a slight slam of the door.

What he said hurt. A lot. And just as before, you hated how right he was, how he was able to tell you every single thing you could've and shouldn't've done and he was still right. He acted like an ass but you knew it was with good intent and that he didn't want you to have the possibility of getting hurt, he was like an older brother in that way, but it pissed you off that he felt the need to scold and talk to you as if you were a child. How did something as simple as hanging out with each other turned into an argument so quickly?

You were too frustrated at that point, and on top of that, homecoming was the next night. God I'm an idiot, I need to sleep..

-Timeskip the next day-

The girls in the hallway giggled and talked to their friends about how excited they were for homecoming. How they were going with their boyfriends or how someone cute or popular asked them.

Despite how excited everyone was around you, you remained nervous and the feeling of anxiety only grew stronger every step you took down the hallway, finally making it to Patrick's locker where Andy, Pete, Joe, and obviously Patrick were standing.

"Good morning, Y/n, or not such a good morning..? Are you okay, man? You look like shit," Joe says, reaching across to examine your face.

"Thanks, Joe. Good morning to you too, I'm just fine," You say, swiping at his hands to get them off of your face.

"Hey, Y/n," Patrick says, giving you a small wave with a smile on his face. Gosh he was always so cute without even trying.

"Hey, Patrick, good morning," You say, mustering a small smile despite how you currently felt. "Good morning, Andy. How are you guys feeling other than excited like the rest of everyone else?" You ask, letting out a sigh.

Groans emit from everyone except Pete, one would know exactly why.

"I don't know, man I'm pretty excited, shouldn't you be too, Y/n? Are you excited to go with Mark?" Pete says, looking at you with a grin on his face.

"Sure, whatever you say, Wentz." You say, glaring at him.

The bell rings throughout the hallways, everyone starts to scramble to their classes, seemingly still talking to their friends about the dance as they do so.

"Me and Andy gotta go to pre-cal, we'll see you guys during lunch. Try not to die from excitement," Joe says, walking down the hallway, giving a monotone "woo-hoo".

We all depart and walk to our separate classes. Math was probably one of the worst first classes to have, or more specifically Trigonometry. It wasn't even that you hated it, but rather the kids in it. They were loud and were often rowdy, and the teacher didn't care enough to say anything about it, and today you knew it was going to be much rowdier than most days. And when you walked in, you were exactly right.

You sat at your desk, placing your bag down and grabbing your book out of it. One more day until winter break starts, just one more day until you don't have to be around this chaos and sleep in.

The class went by quicker than it usually did, you just finished some problems in your workbook and listened to music on your iPod to drown out the sound of your classmates not very quietly talked to others.

After finishing your other two periods you walked through the hallway to get lunch.

Someone from behind grabs your shoulders and gives them a squeeze, "Boo," the voice says quietly. You turn around to see Pete standing in front of you

"Oh uh, hey, Pete." You say, adjusting the straps of your backpack awkwardly.

"Hey, Y/n. I'm sorry about last night by the way, I was kinda being a dick to you and said some things to you that would've been better if they were left unsaid. I don't want our friendship to go to shit so I wanted to apologise." Pete says, looking at you sympathetically.

You sigh and look up at him, "I'm sorry too, Pete. You were right and it upset me that you were, I also don't want there to be any sort of tension between us. I'm honestly kinda glad we resolved it,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pete asks, smiling as he begins to walk with you to the lunch line.

"Well, I mean I could've totally lived without being your friend, you're not all that important or whatever," You sarcastically reply.

"Pfft, I think I can say the same for you too, L/n," Pete says and gives you a small punch to your arm.

Both of you get lunch and then head to your usual table where just Andy was sat, reading an issue of Uncanny X-Men with one of his earbuds in.

"Hey, Andy. You're not gonna get any lunch?" You ask, placing your tray onto the table and sit next to Pete.

"Nah, not right now. I'm gonna wait for the line to clear up so I can finish this," Andy replies, taking his other earbud out and wrapping the cord around his iPod.

"Where's Joe and Patrick? Did they come by yet?" Pete talks with his mouth full, shoveling the spaghetti on his tray into his mouth.

"No, they haven't come by yet, I'm assuming both of them got stuck in computer lab, I heard the teacher's an ass so I wouldn't be surprised if they did. Hey, does the spaghetti come without the meat in the sauce or is it just that?"

"Ah okay, thanks, Andy. Yeah they have just the tomato sauce, the meat is an add on type thing," You reply, taking a bite of your food.

Andy gives a nod of affirmation and continues to read the comic in his hands.

You and Pete continue to eat, Andy soon finishes his comic to go get lunch and comes back shortly after.

"Have Patrick and Joe still not come by yet?" Andy says, as he sits back down in his seat and sets his tray down.

"Nope, nothing yet," Pete replies.

Worry began to set in your stomach, nothing could've happened to the two, except maybe Joe getting in trouble and dragging Patrick along with him.

You decide to pull your phone out and ring Patrick and after a couple of rings it goes to voicemail. You hang up and look at your phone for a moment before closing it.

"Patrick leaves his cell on silent during school, try Joe instead, or you could always go look for them." Andy says, swallowing a bite of his pasta before talking.

Shoot you forgot about that. You open your phone back up and dial Joe's number, it doing the same thing as when you tried Patrick's number.

"I'm gonna go look for them, do you guys wanna come with?" You ask, getting up from the table.

Pete looks at Andy then back at me, "Nah, I think we can just stay. Me and Andy still have to finish our food,"

You nod and walk out of the lunch hall, heading down to upstairs building C to get to the Computer Lab. Once you were at the classroom you knocked on the door, not long after the teacher opened it.

"What is it you need?" The teacher says seemingly annoyed.

"Have you seen Patrick and Joe? I believe they have you as their 3rd bell and I haven't seen them." You ask, slightly intimidated by the teacher's height and demeanor.

"They're in lunch detention right now, actually."

You let out a small 'oh' and thank her before walking back to the lunch hall. Wow, Andy must've been right about her being mean.

You return back to your table and sit back down next to Pete, sighing. "They got themselves stuck in lunch detention,"

"What? How did they do that?" Andy says, Pete snickering next to you.

"I don't know! I went to the computer lab, knocked on the door, then asked the teacher if she'd seen them or knew where they were and she just told me that they were in lunch detention," You explain, running your hands through your hair.

Pete is now laughing even louder and so is Andy, now you can't help but laugh a little with them too.

Lunch finishes and all three of you dump your trays. You grab your bag and start walking to your 4th bell History class.

As you walk in you see Patrick sitting at the table you two share with his head down. You walk to it and place your things down and sit next to him.

"What happened, Stump?" You say, placing a hand on Patrick's arm.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Patrick says with his voice muffled from still having his head down.

"Alright, I won't pry about it, but you have to put your head up so that way we can work. I can't have a partner if he's got his head buried in his arms the whole time." You chuckle, taking your hand off his arm and getting your things out of your bag.

The rest of the day went by and soon enough you were in your room blasting AFI's Sing The Sorrow album as you got ready for the dance.

You had the dress that Patrick helped you pick out and some simple makeup on, just a little bit of eyeliner on your waterline and a light coat of mascara on your bottom lashes, just leaving your top lashes curled.

You pause your music and put the CD back into its case, grabbing your phone on your way out of your room.

You spot your dad sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal, "Hey dad, how do I look? Does it look okay or should I change something about it?"

"Hey, kiddo. You look nice, that looks just fine. Let me take a picture before you head out, okay." Your dad gets up from where he was sitting and gets the camera out

You stand in front of an empty space where paintings he made were the only thing that adorned the walls behind you. You smile and he takes the picture, then he comes next to you and takes a picture of both of you.

"Alright, have fun and don't do anything stupid. Take your coat too, it's cold out." He says as he gives you a hug.

You grab your coat and tell him bye before going outside. Joe was your ride to the dance, so you waited outside for him to come. In a few minutes he pulled up with his hand me down 1998 Toyota Corolla, Andy sitting in the passenger seat.

"Hey, Joe, thanks for taking me. Hi, Andy," You say, getting into the backseat of the car.

"No problem. You stoked for it? Your date is that Mark guy, right?" Joe asks as he begins driving.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You seemed to be stoked about it yesterday, what's wrong now?" Andy asks.

You shrug your shoulders and sigh, regardless of the fact that they couldn't see you. "I dunno, I just- feel bad about leaving you guys, we've been going with each other the past two years now. And on top of that Pete won't be there either because he has a date too."

"Don't worry about us, Y/n, we'll be fine, and you can always come with us and hang out if you get tired of Mark," Andy says and Joe nods in agreement.

"It's not really that, I guess. I mean, I didn't get to ask the guy I wanted to and just kinda said yes to Mark even though I didn't want to go. To be honest the guy is a dick and I've seen how he reacts to other girls rejecting him, and I just didn't want him to spread gross lies about me like he did with the girls that said no to him."

I was stupid for saying yes, but I would've also been stupid if I said no. It was a lose, lose situation and my grave was already dug when he asked me. I'm hoping that he just ditches me and says that it was a joke that he asked me, that no one would ever ask me. You wanted to get out of that situation even if it meant him humiliating you in front of a crowd of other people. You knew that's exactly what would happen if he did do it.

"Why didn't you ask the guy you wanted to before? We had like, two weeks to do so." Joe asks, his eyes still focused on the road.

"Honestly, Joe, I don't know."

Other than the soft music coming from the radio, the rest of the ride to the school was quiet. All of you get out of the car once you make it to the car lot and park. Joe locks his car and you guys walk to the building that leads to the gym, all three of you giving your tickets to the teacher that had a table set outside.

You head into the hall and tell Andy and Joe to go on ahead while you wait for Mark. You felt uneasy about it, just as you thought on the way here, hoped that he would come to say something about you and ditch.

Mark arrived and greeted you and walked next to you until you were inside the gym. You see Pete and wave to him, then spot Joe and see Patrick peeking over to wave to you. You smile and wave back to him but it was cut short as Mark took your arm and pulled you to a spot where other guys and girls he often hung out with were standing.

God, this is not gonna be a fun night..

He introduces you to his friends. Some waved but most of them snicker and sneer at you. You shuffle in your spot uncomfortably as all of them talk to each other, not really knowing who they were and not wanting to be included in the conversations.

The band that was supposed to start the dance off with one song started to play and everyone began to clap to the beat of the beginning.

'She says, she's no good with words but I'm worse. Barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue,'

These guys are pretty good, holy shit.

'Way down with words too over dramatic. Tonight it's "It can't get much worse," Vs. "No one should ever feel like"'

You would like to dance and enjoy the music but it just wouldn't feel like it does when you were with the guys. You had no clue what to even do, you just kinda, stood there as everyone in the group just continued talking to each other.

'Dance, dance. We're falling apart to halftime. Dance, dance. And these are the lives you love to lead. Dance, this is the way they'd love, if they knew how misery loved me,'

"Hey, uh, I'm gonna go to the food table, alright?" You tell Mark awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh-huh, whatever, go do what you need to." Mark says, dismissing you with his hand and immediately going back to his conversation.

'Why don't you show me a little bit of spine. You've been saving for his mattress, love,'

You walk to the table, having to push past the crowd before getting there. You grab a cup and pour some punch into it, then grab one of the dessert cups and a spoon.

You sit at the bleachers to eat the dessert and drink your punch, throwing the empty cups and spoon into the trash once you were done and grab a dessert cup for Mark then head back to where he and his friends were.

You tap Mark on the shoulder and raise the dessert cup to him, motioning that you got it for him. "I got you one of these while I was over there."

Mark looks at you with a look on his face you can only decipher as disgust and destain. "I don't know how someone such as you can think that anyone other than your weird little friends would actually want to be next to you. I thought you were supposed to be the smart girl and somehow you still didn't get it." Mark says, laughing at me. His friends doing the same.

'Why don't you show me a little bit of spine. You've been saving for his mattress. I only want sympathy in the form of you. Crawling into bed with me,'

You look at him for a brief few seconds with a blank look on your face before shrugging. "Yeah, that's fair enough, but if you wanted a reaction out of me like all those other girls you could've at least tried a little harder. Thanks, man." You say before walking away, the dessert cup in your hand. You walk back to the table to put it back so it wouldn't go to waste and head to the bleachers. You see Andy sitting, reading one of the comics he brought with him.

You head over and sit next to him. "Hey, Andy. What are you doing here by yourself? Where's Patrick?"

"I could ask you the same. Patrick's in the mosh pit." Andy says, pointing to the pit that formed in the middle of the crowd.

"He's what? How'd that happen? He's not one for that sorta stuff. I'd expect that from Pete," You laugh.

"I think I saw someone drag him in. He was just kinda dancing by himself, I saw some girl slap Joe in the face earlier too, we can only guess why," Andy sighs, setting his comic down.

"So, what happened with Mark?"

'Dance, dance. We're falling apart to halftime. Dance, dance. And these are the lives you love to lead. Dance, this is the way they'd love,'

"He asked me just so that he could embarrass me in front of his friends," You shrug.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry that happened, dude." Andy says.

"Oh I'm fine, it only bothered me a bit but most of it was because he included you guys into it. I'm glad it happened, I get to hang out with you guys now, that is if Patrick comes out of that pit alive." You say, laughing at your own words.

"That's good, I'm glad you're okay," Andy says, picking his comic back up and continuing to read it.

'Dance, dance. Dance, dance. Dance, dance. Dance, dance.'

The song ends and the dance circles and small mosh pits begin to empty, most of everyone else going to their own group as the band starts taking all of their stuff down.

Joe makes his way to where you and Andy were sitting, a glass of punch in his hand. "Oh hey, what's up, Y/n?"

"Nothing much. What earned you a slap on the face by the way?" You ask, Andy snickering next to you, his nose still in his comic.

"We're not going to talk about that, okay.." Joe responds, rolling his eyes and taking a sip out of his cup.

Pete makes his way towards you guys with his date and introduces her to you guys. You wave and say hi, introducing yourself to her as well. She seemed like she was a nice girl.

"Y/n, what happened to Mark?" Pete asks, his hand holding the girl's.

"He just asked to try and embarrass me in front of his friends. It didn't bother me though, I was kind of expecting it honestly. I just walked away after telling him it didn't and came over here and just hung out with Andy," You explain.

Pete gives you a knowing look as a way of saying "I told you so," without saying anything. You roll your eyes at him in response and look at Amy. "So, I'm just curious, what made you say yes to Pete when he asked you to homecoming by lighting your front yard on fire?"

Pete looks at me and then back at Amy. "You don't need to answer that, how about we go and get some punch?" He says. Amy giggled as he began to pull her along with him. He glared at you before he walked away with her.

You stand up and groan a little from your aching feet that the heels were causing, turning around to look at Joe and Andy before telling them you were going to look for Patrick, earning a thumbs up from Andy.

You push past a few people to try and look for him, finally spotting him talking to some girls and then them walking away giggling and whispering to each other.

You walk up behind him and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?" You whisper into his ear.

"I guess Y/n." Patrick chuckles.

You remove your hands from his eyes and he turns around, adjusting his glasses a little bit.

"You look good, Pat." You say, smoothing out his suit jacket with your hands.

"Thanks, so do you." Patrick responds. Both of you look at each other for a few seconds, not paying attention to anything else going on around you. You look away in slight embarrassment, stepping back a little and clearing your throat.

"How was your first mosh? And how did you not die?" You laugh.

"I was just kinda thrown into there unwillingly but I guess it was cool, a little more aggressive than I thought a mosh pit would be, especially for a high school homecoming pit, and I fell once and then left after that happened," Patrick says, looking at his shoes.

There was another awkward silence. You'd known each other for almost 4 years and this is probably the one time where you two didn't know what to say to each other.

"If you guys are done being weird, we were all going to get the picture taken before it starts to get too crowded," Joe says, standing in front of you two and motioning to go with him. You thanked him in your head that he broke that silence

You and Patrick follow Joe to the wall that had a fancy background for students to take pictures, where the rest of the guys, including Amy, were standing waiting for you.

"God, we've been waiting ages for you guys. What were you doing that took Joe so long to find you two?" Pete scolds. He sounded like a mother that had a teenager stay out too long after their curfew and was upset with them. Pete was just always kind of the parent of the group, though. Surprising for someone that acted like such a child sometimes.

"Shut up, Pete. We have people behind us that want to take a picture too, just get the picture taken and then we can do whatever we want afterwards." Joe says, pushing you and Patrick forward to the area as Andy hands the teacher his digital camera.

Everyone gets into their spots, Pete was next to Amy and had his arm around her waist, Joe and Andy stood next to each other smiling, and you put your hands on Patrick's left shoulder and leaned on him like you always did with these photos and smiled. The teacher counts down and takes a couple pictures to get some good shots.

"Do you guys want to do a silly one or are you all too old for that?" The teacher asks.

Everyone says yes and we all get into a new position. Andy and Joe made a heart with both of their hands and leaned towards each other like they were going to kiss, Pete and Amy had their tongues sticking out, and Patrick was holding you bridal style and you put your right arm up in a sort of cheering motion. The teacher then took those pictures and when she was finally done you all got out of position and thanked the teacher as Andy got back his camera from her.

"Let's see, did they get the pictures better than they got them last year..." Andy whispers to himself, but just audibly enough to where people next to him could hear.

You laugh to yourself as you recall last year's pictures. The teacher that was taking them took nothing but blurry pictures or ones where some of us had our eyes closed, there was only one picture that was decent enough that we printed out for ourselves.

You all look over Andy's shoulder or arm as best as you could as he went through the pictures, deleting a few blurry or bad ones here and there, and laughing at the shots of the funny ones.

"We actually got good pictures this year, guys. I'll look through them some more and print out the best ones for all of us." Andy says, turning off his camera and putting it with the rest of his stuff.

"Are you gonna want some prints too?" Andy asks Amy.

She looks at Pete for a second, and then back at Andy, "Yes please, that'd be great."

Andy sends back a thumbs up to her, and Pete takes her back to the "dance floor". That is, if you could even call it that.

"Alright, I'm gonna go find a girl to dance with, maybe more than just to dance with if I'm lucky. Peace!" Joe says before walking away.

"I don't know about that, but maybe you'll be lucky enough to earn a punch to the face this time," You call out, earning a glare and an angry grumble from Joe.

There was a silence for a minute or so after you laughed at what you said and the reaction you got from him. But it wasn't an awkward silence, just one where there was nothing to say afterwards.

Patrick takes a long and deep inhale, not letting it out before saying something. "Maybe I'll find a girl to dance with." Patrick clears his throat and and adjusts his glasses as he turns to look at you.

"I'm sure you will, Patrick. Go to the floor and ask someone." You say, smiling as you encourage him.

Patrick lets out a sigh and looks down at his feet, then back up to you, avoiding your eyes as he speaks. "I'm trying to.. What I'm trying to say is do you want to dance with me, Y/n." He stutters out at first, speaking a little faster as he says the rest. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed red.

You freeze in shock and stare at him with wide eyes, your mouth was slightly agape and you would only assume that your face was probably the same shade of red, if not darker than Patrick's based off of the way you can feel your cheeks starting to burn up rather quickly.

"Um, uh, y-yeah. I'd um, I'd love to, yeah." You stutter out awkwardly, smiling at Patrick.

You look out of the corner of your eye to see Andy with his face in his hands, shaking his head as he does so.

Patrick awkwardly holds his hand out, looking everywhere but at you. You take it and walk with him to the dance floor, and just as you do, a sappy slow dance song comes on.

How on earth could this be one of the only times that a slow dance song comes on? You would've assumed that Pete might've been up to it, but it was probably some unlucky 1 out of 1,000 chance.

"Uh, Y/n? Can I please have this dance with you?" Patrick awkwardly asks. You turn your head to look at him then quickly look at your shoes after a few seconds out of embarrassment.

"Yeah, that'd be great." You say quietly with a smile. You laugh to yourself, glad that you weren't the only one that was nervous. And you had no idea how, but you felt your cheeks getting even hotter than they were before.

You and Patrick face towards each other and you awkwardly place your hands on his shoulders. It was especially awkward when Patrick asked if he could put his hands on your waist.

You both stayed silent and avoided eye contact for the first couple of moments of you dancing together. And no matter how much you were enjoying it, how euphoric it felt, you just couldn't look at him. Though not in a bad way.

You finally look at each other and Patrick gives you a nervous smile, his cheeks still a reddish tint.

You smile back at him and wrap your arms loosely around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. It was a bold move even for yourself, and you quickly regret it, wondering if it might've been too bold of a move.

Patrick stiffens a bit, but quickly relaxes and proceeds to dance with you, slowly swaying with you to the music.

"Hey, Patrick. Can I tell you something?" You say, your voice shaking a little.

"Yeah, go ahead." Patrick says just as equally nervous, or at least it sounded like it.

You think for a moment, debating whether if you should tell him what you were going to say or not, then finally deciding you should.

"You can't laugh at me or anything, please." You hesitate for a second. Patrick looks at you with his brows furrowed, what seemed to be a confused look.

"Um, I like you. More than one should be for being just friends with someone. I- what I'm trying to say is that I like you romantically." You admit, shutting your eyes closed in fear for what his face would turn into.

Patrick stops dancing, yet not letting go of you and stays silent for a few moments. You open your eyes to look at him, knitting your eyebrows together to try and pinpoint what exactly his expression was, but not being able to.

Patrick pulls you closer and gently places a shaky hand on your cheek and leans in to kiss you, his lips touching yours.

You freeze for a moment in shock, but ease into it and kiss him back, wrapping your arms a little more tightly around the back of his neck to pull him down, deepening the kiss.

It was definitely an inexperienced kiss, not that you would know that, being this was your first, but it soon turned into a more enjoyable one.

You two pull back, breathing just a little heavier than you normally would. You two looked at eachother, laughing lightly to yourself as you feel the high of exhilaration.

Both of you don't say anything the rest of the song, you just continue to dance holding each other closely, your face buried into his neck and his cheek pressed to your hair.

The song ends, too quickly for your own liking, and another upbeat pop song starts to play.

You hold onto each other for a while longer.

"Do you wanna go back to the bleachers?" You ask, finally pulling away from him.

"Yeah, there's not really much to dance to with this music, it's kinda weird when everyone else isn't with us." Patrick replies, adjusting his glasses.

You smile and slip your hand into his, walking with Patrick to the bleachers where Andy was.

Patrick stops when you two were a few feet away from the bleachers. "Am I just going insane, or do I see Andy making out with that girl over there."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You say, your mouth slightly agape at the sight.

Someone from behind grabs your shoulder, you turn around to see who it was and to no surprise, it was Pete.

"Hey guys, what are you two doing standing here like weirdos? Why aren't you guys dancing together?" Pete says, shaking both yours and Patrick's shoulder gently.

"Because we were just looking at that." Patrick says, briefly pointing at the scene happening on the bleachers.

Pete looks in between you and Patrick to look. "Oh wow, they're really going for it, huh? When did that happen?" He says, seemingly having the same reaction as you and Patrick did.

"We have no clue. We came here to plan on sitting with Andy and it was just already kind of happening. Oh, by the way, where's your little girlfriend, by the way?" You ask, teasing Pete.

Pete rolls his eyes at you and his face quickly turns into one of what you immediately recognised as mischief, one that induced fear upon you. He was about to say or do something you knew you wouldn't like or be happy about.

"How was that kiss by the way? It looked like you two really enjoyed it, me and Amy are happy for you! Maybe we should tell the guys so they can congratulate you guys too!" Pete says enthusiastically with a shit eating grin on his face.

Patrick looks at you with a mortified look, you mirror his expression and turn back to Pete. You couldn't find any snarky remark to say back to Pete, you were just completely speechless after what he had just said.

Amy walks up to Pete and taps him on the shoulder and puts her hand in his when he notices it's her.

"Hey guys! Are you having fun! I saw you two dancing a little while ago." Amy says, a sweet smile on her face.

"Oh uh, hey Amy. Yeah, yeah, we're having fun. Um, what about you?" You ask, stumbling over your words a bit, still thinking about what Pete said.

"Thats good. Me and Pete going to go back to dance, do you guys want to come with us? The dance is about to end in 15 minutes."

You open your mouth to talk only to have Patrick beat you to a response.

"No, we're alright. But thank you for asking, Amy." Patrick replies.

"Alright, have fun! If you need us we'll be somewhere in there." Amy says, grabbing Pete's arm and dragging him to the dance floor. Pete looks over his shoulder and sticks his tongue out at you and Patrick.

"Do you wanna go outside?" Patrick asks, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. It's kind of noisy in here." You respond, following along with Patrick. You slipped your hand into his as you continued to walk with him.

You now realized just how sweaty you were. You don't know if it was because of how hot it was inside of the gym or if it was because you were with Patrick. Now that you think about it, it's kind of gross.

As you walk out the doors, you feel the cool wind blow on your face, immediately cooling down how hot your cheeks felt. You both sit down on the grass.

There was a calm silence around you, only having faint music playing from the gym and distant chatter of students and teachers keeping the noise present.

"I would've never thought that would've ever happened." Patrick says, a faint blush on his face as he looked in the distance.

"What? Pete finally getting a girlfriend or Andy making out with that girl?" You snort.

Patrick looks at you and rolls his eyes. "Well, yeah maybe the Pete part, but I mean us. It sounds so cliche but I wouldn't think that I would ever get to, well y'know.." Patrick shrugs.

The way the moonlight illuminated his face made the light freckles peppered across his face more visible, and the way it made the colour of his eyes look all the more beautiful. The chill of the wind made his nose slightly red, and his cheeks had a flush to them.

You smile and look at him. "Honestly, me either. But I'm glad it did."

"I don't know what they put in that punch because I do NOT remember being that confident or bold." You add on, laughing a bit.

You lay down on the grass and look up at him, admiring his features like you did the same way you did the day he was helping you pick out your dress, except when he looked at you this time, you didn't look away.

"It's kind of cold." Patrick says, rubbing the tip of his nose.

You smile and laugh, getting up. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"No, I think I'm ready to go back home. It's too crowded and hot in the gym and too cold out here." Patrick replies, getting up off of the grass and offering you a hand to pull you up from the grass.

"I agree with you there. Do you think you can drive me to my house?" You get up, brushing your dress of from any dirt of dead grass that may have stuck onto the fabric.

Patrick nods and you both walk to his car.

"Should we say bye to the guys before we leave?" You say, getting into the passenger seat of his car and closing the door.

"No I think they should be fine. And Pete would probably just tease us." Patrick says and starts his car, pulling out and exiting the car lot to get onto the road.

The drive to your house was almost the same as the ride Joe gave you to the school, but it wasn't an awkward silence that filled the car but rather a pleasant and calm one.

After about 10 minutes of driving Patrick pulled into your driveway. Both of you got out, as Patrick had insisted on walking you to your doorstep.

"Thank you, Patrick. I had fun with you tonight."

"Yeah, of course. I had fun with you too." Patrick smiles.

You grab onto Patrick's shoulders and lean towards him, gently placing a peck on his cheek, pulling him into a hug after.

"Goodnight, Patrick. I'll talk to you later on, okay?" You say, burying your face into his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Y/n. I'll talk to you later." Patrick says, placing a kiss to your temple.

You two break the embrace and you turn around to open your door, walking into your house and closing the door.

All of the lights were off and it was silent, so you would only assume that your dad was already asleep.

You take off your shoes and take them in your hands and walk into your bedroom.

You close your door and change out of your clothes, throwing them into your hamper and changing into your pajamas.

You smile to yourself as you recall the events of the night, only to be interrupted by a knock at your door.

"Yes?" You shout before opening your door.

"Your friend Andy is on the phone right now, he wanted to talk to you. Here, can you bring it back to me when you're done?" Your dad says, handing you his phone.

"Yeah, of course, dad. Thank you." You say before going to sit onto your bed.

"Hey, Andy, what's up?" You say, holding the phone to your ear.

"Where are you? We've been looking for you for like 15 minutes now." Andy says worriedly.

"I'm at home right now, Patrick drove me. Why didn't you call my cell?"

"Because when I called you I heard your phone ringing in your bag. You left your bag and jacket over here and we thought you were still here because it was left here on the bleachers." Andy scolded.

"Shit! I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean to worry you." You apologize.

"It's fine. But I'm kind of upset you didn't say bye to me. Do you want me to drop your stuff off later?"

"I'm sorry, I should've said bye. I'll make it up to you, Andy I promise. But if you could bring my stuff for me later on tomorrow that would be awesome."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Andy. Thank you."

"No problem." Andy says, hanging up.

You shut the phone and get up, walking to your dads room to put his phone onto his nightstand and walk back to your room.

You close your door and pull your covers up and slip into your bed, immediately falling asleep due to the exhilaration of the night wearing off.

3:00 ─────────ㅇ 3:00

AN; I think I started this in early December and now it's already the third of February so it's been a process. I'm sorry this took me so long to post but it's probably one of my longest works and because I also kept hitting parts of the story that I had no clue what to write. I do hope that you enjoyed it, though. I also have another Patrick Stump x Reader fic that you could find in my masterlist.

#patrick stump #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump imagines #fall out boy #fob #from under the cork tree #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley #AU #dance dance fob #dance dance mv

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years ago

Text

Snow - Patrick Stump x Reader

Prompt: S: Snow (How do they like the snow?) (from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Word Count: 1 096 A/N: I think i’m getting sick...

Patrick was rarely ever grumpy. In fact, Patrick prouded himself in not being a grumpy person. He loved laughing and smiling too much to be grumpy on a regular basis. But thick snowflakes, which he usually loved, falling from the sky just as he was about to drive home after a long day, might get him to furrow his brows unhappily.

It was even worse because he really enjoyed snow most of the time. But now the snowflakes came down in a thick layer, making it impossible to see further than the next two cars in front of him, making the street slick, and driving all the more dangerous.

He was tired. He had been up since far too early in the morning, had left before your alarm clock had even rang. Patrick hated leaving without having had a calm breakfast together with you, but you needed your sleep, so he had only pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before he had snuck out. Since then he had spent the whole time in the studio.

Things weren’t coming together the way he wanted them to, which frustrated him endlessly, and after almost ten hours he had eventually given up, hoping to get home quickly and falling into your reassuring embrace. You always knew how to make him feel better, a few calm words, the reminder that he was only human and needed breaks too, your fingers running through his messy hair… But instead he was stuck in this stupid snow storm.

By the time he turned into your street, it was already growing dark outside. The snowfall had not let up, and the lesser used streets were covered in white. In a few front yards Patrick spotted the first snowmen, and kids were already battling each other in snow ball fights. But today Patrick did not smile to himself at the picture book like scenes. He just wanted to get home.

The pavement in front of your shared house was covered in less snow than the rest of the neighbourhood, making Patrick suspect you had begun clearing the snow away before giving up and surrendering to the weather. Careful not to slide on the snow, Patrick steered the car into the driveway and got out. The cold was worse than he had imagined, cold wind biting his face and hands, hurting in his ears and driving snowflakes in his face, blinding him. More feeling than seeing, Patrick manoeuvred to the front door, quickly letting himself in.

The warm air of the hallways was like a hug as he stepped inside and quickly threw the door shut, keeping more snow from fluttering inside. In the mirror Patrick could see that snowflakes had already begun dusting his hair white, and quickly he shook them out before they melted more than they already had done.

Throwing his jacket onto the clothes rack and his shoes next to the door, he quickly made his way into the living room, his eyes flickering over the furniture in hopes to find you. But there were no lights burning, which meant you were somewhere else. Too tired to search the house for you, he called your name, waiting for an answer, which came just a moment later from the winter garden.

Following the sound of your voice, Patrick stopped at the entrance to the winter garden, taking in the scene for a moment, that made him wish he had left the studio earlier.

Curled underneath a blanket, you were sitting on the small sofa that allowed a great view into the garden. Your hands were curled around a cup, from which you took a small sip, before you turned to face him.

“You’re home,” you smiled, reaching a hand out for Patrick, asking him wordlessly to step closer.

Quickly he closed the distance between you, giving you a welcome kiss to the lips, which made you smile happily.

“Come join me,” you asked, an invitation you did not have to repeat before Patrick shuffled underneath the blanket, cuddling up against you.

Shifting, you adjusted your posture so you could be closer to Patrick and offered him your cup with sweet fruit tea.

Now that Patrick’s eyes were getting used to the dim light in the room, he could tell that you had lit up the candles in the lanterns outside. Through the thick snow that still fell from the sky, he could make out the orange specks of light in the increasing darkness of the early evening. Trees, bushes, flower beds and grass were already covered by thick layers of white, and only your by now already almost hidden traces in the snow hinted at it having been you who had lit up the candles, and not some mysterious winter magic.

Patrick handed the cup back to you, after having taken a few sips of the hot beverage, before a sigh escaped his lips when you nuzzled your nose against his neck, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin.

“Bad day,” you asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. God, he knew why he had wanted to come home so quickly. Your kisses were innocent, but made him feel so loved, so at home. He pulled you in closer, once again, like so many many times before marvelling at how perfectly you fit against him. As if you had been made to fit together.

“Not bad per se,” Patrick answered, not daring to speak louder than a whisper, as if it would ruin the magic of the moment. “Just not as productive as I had hoped it would be.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sure it'll work out in the end,” you mumbled. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“I’m glad I'm home too,” Patrick smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

How lucky could one guy be, he wondered. Not only did he get to do a job he loved even on the bad days, but he got to come home to someone like you, someone who cuddled him, someone he could still feel himself blushing at whenever you made him a compliment, someone who had absolutely stolen his heart and yet made no attempt at running away with it.

His eyes wandered over the snow covered garden beyond the glass of the windows, searching for the now more visible lights of the lanterns. Really, with a life like this, with a person by his side like you, he had no reason to be grumpy, not even about snow storms.

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @casmustdiee @cmtryghoul

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tonycries · 5 months ago

Text

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him.

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat.

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath.

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember.

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care.

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did.

It’s so unfair.

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago.

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see.

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple.

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to.

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away.

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you.

Saw - only from a distance - those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful.

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was.

Perfect.

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips.

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else.

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted.

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before.

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster.

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.”

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt.

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss.

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely.

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you.

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection.

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length.

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene.

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck.

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out.

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine.

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring.

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back.

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru.

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds.

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?”

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him.

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours.

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.”

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive.

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever.

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?”��

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.”

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle.

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over.

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure.

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember.

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots.

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach.

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now.

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape.

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure.

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind.

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock.

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive.

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth.

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly.

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo x reader #tonywrites

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finelinefae · 2 months ago

Text

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things.

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket.

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go.

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week.

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people.

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything.

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’.

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket.

She read his bio beneath.

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it.

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words.

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric.

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :)

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message.

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it.

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay?

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay.

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end.

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really?

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something.

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !!

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi

. . .

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering.

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did.

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure.

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving.

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?”

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company.

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people.

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi.

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head.

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office.

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about.

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath.

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office.

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?”

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?”

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card.

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds.

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car.

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring.

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally.

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.”

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped.

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel.

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy.

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did.

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered.

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean.

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went.

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door.

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?”

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.”

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto.

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy.

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers.

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him.

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone. But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . .

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary.

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled.

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb.

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

3K notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 2 months ago

Text

SEVEN DAYS

x2!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: desperate!logan, eating reader out, fingering, squirting?

masterlist

the mission was only supposed to last for two days. forty-eight hours and he would return home to you. instead it was dragged out much longer than it needed to be.

logan wanted nothing more than to be home in your arms instead of a motel room alone, painfully hard, trying to tune out scott snore on the other side of the wall.

so, on thursday afternoon when him, scott, and storm returned to the mansion, logan wasted no time hunting you down. he could smell you the second he walked through the front door; you were in charles office. charles, hank, jean, and you were meeting to discuss a new experiment when logan bursts through the door.

"logan! pleasure for you to join us." hank announces.

your head snaps up from your scribbling to see that your lover has returned safely. he looked like a lion ready to pounce on a naivë little lamb.

"just came by to pick something up." logan answers, ignoring everyone else in the room as he made a b-line for you.

"hey, baby–"

within seconds, logan lifts you up over his shoulder and out of the leather seat. you squeal, dropping your notepad and pen. your kitten heels kick his abs as your squirm in his arms.

"logan!" you hiss, swatting his toned back as he turns around to walk out of the room, unphased. "what the hell! put me down!"

he ignores you, pulling down your dress to cover your behind from your co-workers. no one was shocked by logan's actions. the man wasn't a patient person by any means. they all watched as you left over logan's shoulder, face blushing with embarrassment.

when logan finally shut your guys bedroom door, he placed you down on the edge of your bed; yet to say a word to you. instead, he falls straight to his knees in front of you. his big callous hands, rubs the soft skin of your inner thighs, opening your legs.

logan couldn't help but moan when he saw the pretty lacy light blue panties you were wearing. you could see the neediness in his eyes as he licked his lips. before he can remove your underwear, you cradle his face in your much smaller palms.

"you alright, baby?" you ask, looking down at him.

similarly to a cat, logan rubs the scruff of his beard against your thigh, pressing his nose against the thin panties; inhaling the scent of your arousal. you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp softly before your fingers tugging on the kitten tuffs, making him whimper against your pussy.

"mhm..." he manages to say. "i missed you."

"aw, i missed you–"

"missed your scent, your lips, your mouth..." his words are muffled as he kisses you messily over the lace. "missed this fuckin' pussy so much."

you gasp when he pulls down the soaked material and moves back for a second to look at you. he spreads you apart with his thumbs, watching you twitch and clench at the cool air hitting your pussy. she was warm, wet, and welcoming to him. logan couldn't imagine a better way to spend the rest of his day.

"there's my favorite girl." logan smiles before spitting right on your button and latching his mouth onto you. you moan loudly as he talks to your pussy, acting as if you weren't even in the room.

"you've missed me too, huh, pretty girl?" he moans incoherently as his tongue runs over core.

it's a struggle to keep your eyes open but it was worth the sight of logan's head in between your legs. the noises he made with your slick were unbelievably lewd.

"must've missed me a lot." you giggle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps your legs around his head.

"you've got not fuckin' idea." he mumbles into your folds. spit and slick pooled onto the sheets that laid under you as logan feasted.

logan looks up at you and fears he might cum just from the image of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly parted as you sing his praise of 'right there, logan!', 'such a good boy for me'.

the 'good boy' comment threw logan's mind into a frenzy. he needed to hear you. he needed to be surrounded by your presence. two of his fingers dip into you, fast and rough. your thighs squeeze his head, threatening to pop it right off his body.

there was no time to warn him before your high hit. logan slurped up every bit of honey you had to offer him. you reach down for the hand that wasn't busy locating your sweet spot and place it on your tit. logan could feel your heartbeat and it only sent him further on his spiral, adding a third finger and repeatedly hitting that spot that made you see fireworks.

"i c-can't, logan" you mewl, wiggling back from logan's tongue. he catches you, latching back onto your button. "it's too m-much!"

"she's takin' me just fine." his voice is muffled against you in the dirtiest way possible.

the pressure builds in your tummy. there were no words in your brain at this point, moaning and babbling about nothing.

"that's the spot, huh?" he groan, smirking up at you. logan's fingers twist up, slamming against that gummy spot deep in your walls.

the motion caused you to let out more slick than you ever had before, gushing on logan's face. you can hear him curse as he licks you clean.

“it’s only been seven days, you know?” you giggle, trying to catch your breath.

he climbs up your body to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself. you moan into his mouth, as logan grinds down on you, needing more.

“seven days too long, sweetheart.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

a/n: just something short n sweet before i post part 2 of dad!logan x teacher!reader <3

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classyrbf · 4 months ago

Text

HE'S SUCH A (HOT) LOSER! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons about loser!choso bc I can’t get him out of my head after righting that drabble about him

INFO...loser!choso x fem!reader, socially awkward, virgin!choso, jerking off, virginity loss, sexual acts, creampie,

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

loser!choso who literally has no friends, is the epitome of socially awkward and always ends making the conversation weird when he opens his mouth

loser!choso who has never seen a woman naked in real life, he just goes on porn sites and jerks his dick until it feels like it’s about to fall off, cum painted on his toned stomach

loser!choso who has sex toys in his closet, fleshlights, pocket pussies, whatever you call them—he has at least two, one of them even vibrates

loser!choso who is (you guessed it) a total virgin, he’s never even gotten close enough to lose it, yet alone have his first kiss

loser!choso who is forced by yuji to go on a dating app and try to find a girlfriend, and he ends up matching with you

loser!choso who stays in his room, playing video games, or goes to the gym, otherwise the poor boy has no social life (like I said, he has no friends)

loser!choso who finally goes on his first date with you and he’s sweating, stumbling over his words because you’re smiling at him, grabbing his hand and making jokes all while looking like some sort of goddess. He was starting to wonder if he’s dreaming

loser!choso who is absolutely stunned when you express how cute you think he is, how nice his hair looks, and he doesn’t know how to react so he just stands there and smiles at you like a complete idiot

loser!choso who drives home after the date and he genuinely can’t wait to get home to jerk off to the thought of you, so he pulls into an empty parking and pulls his pants down right there, tip already leaking precum when he remembers the way your tits were popping out of you dress

loser!choso who thinks the date went horribly wrong until you’re texting him the next day, already planning the next time you meet up, weirdly inviting him over to your place

loser!choso who is obsessed with titties (clearly) no matter what size. He imagines himself getting a hold of pair and just grabbing them, sucking them, it turns him on so bad

loser!choso who thinks nothing of going over your house until he gets his one wish, getting a hold of your tits in his hands, and he’s star struck, just groping, squeezing and without thinking he’s sucking on them

loser!choso who ends up losing his virginity a few minutes later with you bouncing up and down on his cock, pussy gushing around him. He’s in literal heaven and can barely think, brain turned to mush

loser!choso who realizes real sex is better than porn fairly quickly, and lets just say he becomes more obsessed with you than ever cause it’s so much more intimate when you’re holding him, praising him, calling him a good boy

loser!choso who cums in your pussy so many times that night, and the aftermath leaves him stuck in the same spot on your bed while you cuddle up to him and tell him how much you like him even if you’ve only known him for two days

loser!choso who now has his first ever girlfriend, his first everything with you and he can’t wait to brag to yuji about it because you’re absolutely gorgeous

loser!choso who shows you off on his social media despite the twenty followers that he has, he just want to show off his girlfriend to whoever he can

loser!choso who gets weird stares in public from other men when he’s out with you because he knows you’re way out of his league, but just to make them jealous he grabs you and kisses you in front of them

loser!choso who doesn’t develop a sense of fashion until he meets you, going to countless stores as you pick out outfits that’ll look good on him, and he won’t lie, you’ve done a very good job because he’s gained much more confidence in himself

loser!choso who goes on and on about his special interests and you sit there smiling at him, listening intently. He’s lowkey a nerd but you love it

loser!choso who hangs with no one but you, missing you constantly and randomly showing up at your house when he feels like you’ve spent too much time apart

loser!choso who wants to learn how to pleasure you more so he looks up videos on how to eat pussy and watches all the porn he can to study their movements, but when he tells you, you just laugh and say how silly he is, showing him a hands on tutorial, instructing him on what to do and what you like

loser!choso who constantly asks if he made you cum, poor baby doesn’t want you to go around unsatisfied so he doesn’t everything in his power to make you feel good no matter what

loser!choso who is (obviously) the quiet type, so he studies what you like and what you do by watching you and when he grabs your exact fast food order without you saying anything, you’re standing there confused and he’s looking down at you like “what?”

loser!choso who has a glow up because of you, and girls that have rejected him come crawling back into his life not knowing about you, so he just hits them with the “my beautiful girl who I love very much does not like you talking to me bye” and blocks them

loser!choso who is actually very sweet despite his awkwardness, he might look stand offish in person and act weird around others, but when he’s comfortable with you hes a different person

loser!choso who gets you anything you ask for, spending countless amounts of money on you even if you don’t ask for it, he just loves you so much he wants to show his appreciation in every way whether that’s spoiling you or making you cum

#—☆classyrbf #anime #anime smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso x reader smut #choso headcanons #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso kamo headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk choso #choso kamo

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bwabys-scenarios · 8 months ago

Note

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO PERV ILLUMI i do not think there is enough perv illumi content on this app

He’s a perv

Perv!Illumi x Fem!Reader

A/N: sorry this is short and may resemble my other perv writings… but I hope y’all like it! Join my server

warnings: pervy Illumi, yandere behavior, masturbation, panty stealing, he’s kind of yucky, breeding, pregnancy

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Illumi had never experienced sexual attraction before. Had he gotten some morning wood once or twice? Yes, but he rarely felt the urge to jack off.

That was… until he met you.

He wasn’t quite sure what made you so appealing. You looked ordinary, at least… you should have. Illumi had been surrounded by the worlds most beautiful women since he was but a boy… yet here he was, getting hard over a girl he had barely met.

Maybe it was your soft curves, or the ways your hips swayed when you walked… it could have even been your sweet voice, and those pretty, glossy lips that made him want to pull you in and taste the shiny lipgloss you were wearing…

Whatever it was, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Illumi’s body had been acting strangely. Even a whiff of your perfume could have his cock twitching, standing at attention and ready for you… it was quite embarrassing, or it would have been if Illumi had any shame.

No, the only reason Illumi his his overwhelming desire for you was because he wanted these feelings to go away as quickly as possible. He couldn’t fall for some nobody Hunter with nen weaker than all the other applicants that had passed with you. No, Illumi was supposed to marry the best of the best, a woman whose womb could bear a strong heir.

But… that didn’t stop him from acting on some of his urges…

Unfortunately, Illumi couldn’t seem to let you out of his sight. It was annoying, following you around as you did your little daily chores in town. He could hardly get any work done when you looked so cute. You didn’t even realize your panties were showing when you bent over to pick up a coin…

When he couldn’t be constantly watching over you, Illumi would steal little trinkets from your home to… keep him satiated. Used panties, your lipgloss, and clothing items that smelled like your perfume.

He’d wrap your panties around his cock as he jerked off, your cardigan pressed against his face. If he really focused, he could imagine your pussy tightening around him, your plump thighs pressing against him as he bounced you on his cock…

He’d cum buckets into your panties, then break into your apartment and drop them off on your floor, like a cat leaving a dead mouse as a gift.

After a while, his urges grew and grew, until your panties just weren’t enough for him anymore.

Wooing you wasn’t too hard, and getting into your pants was easier than he would have though. The fact you were a virgin was very surprising… but welcomed. After all, he was a virgin as well.

The second his cock sunk into you, he immediately knew that he could never let you go. To hell with a strong heir, he wanted you, and only you. You were the only one that could make him feel this way… soft, vulnerable, and so goddamn horny.

Poor, poor you, having Illumi fuck into you for hours on end, unable to pull out of your pretty, warm cunt. He fucked so much cum into you that you felt so swollen and full…

Even after he was done, he didn’t pull out. Instead, he held you close, kissing the top of your head. “You’re all mine, darling. I’ll have wedding preparations ready within a week.”

You were much too exhausted to argue… and you weren’t sure you could say no to Illumi Zoldyck… so you just slept, accepting your fate. You’d be taken care of, and would never have to worry about anything ever again.

Shortly, Illumi would have his now pregnant wife in his home, where she would be safe, and where he could ravish her whenever he felt like it.

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amourane · 6 months ago

Text

flustered and blushing

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff so much fluff that it's insane

w/c: 1.7k

summary: in which you're a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it.

warnings: none!

a/n: *screams* i just combust every time i write for theo but this piece especially has me just screaming at the cuteness!!!

Everyone who went to Hogwarts knew who Theodore Nott was. It wasn’t hard to miss the dark chestnut hair that would fall in his eyes and the charming smirk that he always wore. Theodore Nott was gorgeous and he knew it. His popularity often led to him being the topic of most conversations and a receiver of many love confessions. Girls would flock to him and try their best to twirl their hair and flirt with the Slytherin but all they were met with was indifference.

Theodore Nott would tune out their obnoxious laughter and shrill squeals. He would stare blankly at them, reject their advances without a care in the world. Word got around that the infamous Theodore Nott was seemingly unreachable. His unattainability only made him that much more interesting to everyone else.

You were blessed, as some would say, to sit next to Theo during Charms. Flitwick had randomly assigned the seating at the start of the year and you got stuck with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t bad at the subject by any means it just got a bit overwhelming with all the stares and whispers that were directed at your partner. You weren’t one for attention or drama, always preferring to hide in the shadows and not be seen. Sitting next to Theo didn’t exactly grant you that freedom.

Theodore Nott was handsome. So so so handsome. You couldn’t deny your attraction and as much as you tried to push it down you often found yourself staring. The slope of his nose and the angled jaw. His eyes that pulled your attention away from anything else. You would watch as he scrawled his notes onto the parchment. His quill would glide effortlessly without hesitation and you often would forget to take your own notes. You couldn’t help but feel your heart pound whenever he spoke to you or whenever he would offer you even the tiniest smile.

“Hey Y/n you free after dinner tonight?”

The boy beside you drawled with his chin in his hands. He looked at you expectedly and you blinked at him confused.

“Sorry?”

“Were you not listening? We have an assignment together, I was asking if you were free so we could get started.” He smirked as if he knew you had been watching him all this time. You felt your cheeks heat up and you spluttered for words. Theo chuckled as he shoved his things into his bag, still waiting for your answer.

“Yeah I’m free tonight.” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. You felt your heart race and you gulped. “Wait where are we meeting up?”

It was then that you realised looking up was a huge mistake because Theo’s face is mere inches away from yours and you felt yourself flush scarlet at the proximity. You blink like a deer caught in headlights trying to calm your own rapidly beating heart. Theo grinned. He tilted his head to the side as if he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Words died on your tongue and your eyes locked with his and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

It was all too much. Way too much.

You cleared your throat, backing away in your seat as far as you could. Theo bit back another smile as he finally leaned back into his seat again. You felt lightheaded from what had just happened and you looked over at the Slytherin only to find him already staring at you causing your eyes to bulge out of their sockets and for you to turn away quickly.

“W-Where did you say?”

“The library of course, I’d bring you to my dorm but don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for that principessa?”

Even if you couldn’t see Theo Nott you definitely could imagine his trademark smirk that would spread across his face whenever he was feeling smug with himself. His words registered in your mind finally and you let out a squeak at the implication before quickly throwing your stuff in your bag and saying a goodbye.

You darted down the hallway, desperate to get away from your seatmate and to your dorm. Theodore Nott had always been like this with you. All smiles and suggestive comments. Your heart couldn’t take his charming grin and angelic laugh. Ever since you had quietly greeted him back in September he had stuck by you and you really didn’t know why. You weren’t popular by any means and you had no pureblood connection that would be of any use so you weren’t sure why Theodore Nott had taken such an interest in you.

His words filled your head once more and you felt your whole body heat up at the memory. You flopped down onto your bed, groaning into the pillow as you tried your hardest to calm yourself down. You just knew tonight was going to be so much worse.

“-and I was thinking that we could also talk about non verbal spells since- are you listening to me Y/n?”

You snapped out of your thoughts only to see Theo’s brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a frown. The library was fairly quiet and the two of you had picked a secluded corner to ensure no one would disturb the two of you. Your eyes drifted to the textbook in front of the two of you and you blinked blankly towards your partner.

“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention, what were you saying about non verbal spells?”

Theo smiled and you felt your heart flutter at the sight. His eyes seemed to twinkle more in the warm lighting and you told yourself that you needed to stop having these ridiculous thoughts. Everyone knew that Theodore Nott had no interest in dating anyone much less you.

“You seem to be daydreaming a lot today Y/n, I’m honestly hurt that you haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been saying.” Theo pouted but you could see the mirth that spread across his face. He leaned towards you and your eyes widened. “What’s got you so distracted today hm?”

He was so close to you. Too close even. You could smell the familiar citrusy scent that he always wore. It felt warm, you didn’t know if that was possible, but he smelt like what you imagined home would be. The slightly sweet but earthy scent invaded your senses and you felt your brain melt.

Your eyes search his face. The sharp cheekbones and jawline contrasted with the smooth curve of his lips. His dark tousled hair that you couldn’t help but imagine running your fingers through his curls. His long eyelashes framed his beautiful grey eyes. The soft glow of the lamp highlights his complexion and you continue to stare, completely mesmerised.

“Nothing…I just have a lot on my mind.” You replied awkwardly, hoping that he didn’t sense that you were lying.

“Hmm…well I’m always here to talk.” Theo folded his arms as he leant onto the wooden desk in front of the both of you. He buried his head into his arms before turning to the side to look at you, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “But I guess we’d just be talking about me, wouldn’t we?”

Immediately you burst into flames and you tried to stutter out an excuse. You knew he had noticed your staring. There were only so many times you could get away with not paying attention in class. Then again, it was still mortifying to get caught.

A group of girls decided that that was the perfect time to walk past the two of you and you froze as they saw you and Theo together. They looked at you and then the Slytherin beside you. Your jaw hung open, gaping like a fish, unable to comprehend the multitude of events that were thrown at you. The girls mirrored your expression before scurrying off whispering loudly.

“Are they dating?”

“No way I didn’t actually think he was capable of liking someone.”

“Who is she anyway? I’ve never seen her around.”

You felt your heart race and you deflated in your chair, head in your hands. This was not meant to happen. You felt a tap on your shoulder and you looked up to see Theo. His smile wasn’t on his face anymore, now replaced with a worried look.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Of course not!” You cried out softly. “Everyone’s going to think I’m your girlfriend and it’s going to spread across the whole of Hogwarts by tomorrow morning. And and…” You groaned, putting your head back into your hands, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening.

Silence spread across the two of you.

“Would that be so bad?” Theo’s voice broke the quiet. You looked up, startled by his words. “Dating me, that is.”

“T-That’s not what I meant-” You stammered, scrambling for an apology, but Theo interrupted you.

“I don’t smile and flirt with just anyone you know. You’re special to me Y/n. I like you, a lot.”

He was looking at you now, his eyes filled with a warmth you had mistaken for amusement. His gaze was soft and filled with affection, a small smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks heated up at his unexpected confession. Your heart pounded, and you gripped your fingers, searching for the right words to say.

“Do you like me too?”

Try as you might you couldn’t find any words to express your emotions or your feelings towards Theodore Nott. All you could muster was a nod as an answer to his question. Theo laughed as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He tugged you closer to him and once again you were face to face with Theodore Nott.

“I want to hear you say it principessa. Tell me how much you fancy me.”

He was doing it on purpose. He knew exactly what to do and what to say to get you completely flustered and a blushing mess for him. And you would be a fool to say it wasn’t working.

“Theo I...” You whispered finally finding your own voice. “I really like you Theodore Nott, I really really like you.”

A bright beam graced Theo’s face and he pressed his forehead against yours, hugging your body close to his. You wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his touch. Theo pulled back as he placed a kiss on your cheek. You blinked before you felt yourself heat up at his affectionate action. You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed at your flustered state.

“You’re so adorable.” Theo chuckled as he embraced you tightly. “I really really like you too Y/n L/n.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #fluff #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott #theodore nott x y/n #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut #theo nott smut

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mightystumpmachine · 6 months ago

Note

Can you write a comfort fic with patrick?

Like after being broken up with or something like that

Any era, i love him in every one. I’m so obsessed with this man its scary

Heyy There! I loved your request. Hope you like the result <3 Since you didn't specify pronouns, I decided to use feminine ones.

So sorry for taking so looong, English isn't my first language so it took me a bit to translate it and make sure it was grammatically correct, so... enjoy your Patrick comfort-fic!!! Hope you come back with more ideas soon :3

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Warnings: Honestly, none, this is the sweetest and calmest thing ever!

Genre: Fluff, comfort, idk, I think this doesn't fit into romance.

Patrick era: WHICHEVER YOU WANT! God, we love this man in all his eras.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Don't worry, I'm here with you (Patrick Stump x Female Reader)

It had been several days since the breakup with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

You spent your time locked in your room, with the TV on even though you weren't paying attention to it. The bluish light flickered on the walls, creating restless shadows that reflected your mood.

You were sunk in melancholy, remembering all the moments of that loving relationship that were breaking your heart into pieces.

That day, when you woke up around one in the afternoon, you didn't want to eat anything. You just lit a cigarette and played some music. It had been a long time since you smoked, but at that moment, it was the only thing you thought would quell your anxiety. The smoke swirled in the air, mixing with the soft notes of a sad song.

You didn't want to talk to anyone; you didn't have the energy for anything. However, when the doorbell rang, you went to the door hopefully, believing that maybe, your now-ex would be there to apologize or try to fix things.

But when you opened the door, you were met with thick glasses and eyes as blue as the ocean, looking at you with concern.

His eyes stopped at the cigarette resting between your fingers, and almost unconsciously, he made a disgusted face.

"Hey ____," he greeted you. You looked at him for a few seconds before responding.

You were surprised; he definitely wasn't the person you expected to see, but Patrick was always welcome in your home, even in the worst moments.

"Patrick..." slipped from your lips, almost without realizing it.

He maintained eye contact for a few seconds, waiting for you to invite him in. But you were simply static in the doorway.

Patrick looked at you again, now carefully, from head to toe. He knew you too well not to notice that you had been crying until recently.

He approached you, just a shy step closer, and took your hand.

"You haven't been answering the phone for a day and a half. The calls go straight to voicemail. What's wrong?"

Unnoticed, tears welled up in your eyes again. As if that question had finally broken you.Your friend didn't wait for an invitation but entered the apartment, closing the door behind him, and then hugged you tightly.

"Patrick," you repeated, now between choked sobs.

"Okay, okay, it's alright... just breathe, I'm here," he said in a soft whisper, right next to your ear.

You simply collapsed under his touch. At that moment, you felt like you had needed to see him during all those days when you shut yourself off from the world.

Patrick had always been your safe place. He was always there, giving you the best advice and the best hugs. He always gave you what he thought was best for you, and at that moment, you felt guilty for worrying him, for not answering any of those calls.

They stayed there for a while; he didn't say anything because he felt he should give you your time... he would wait an eternity if necessary.

He loved you so much that he didn't mind your tears soaking his favorite shirt. Although he also wouldn't deny that he was getting impatient to know what was wrong with you.

You, on your part, were curled up against his chest. You felt the scent of his cologne, which, along with his heartbeat, brought you some calm after a few difficult days.

You could never explain it; Patrick just had that effect on you that no one else ever would.

"Do you want to sit down?" he dared to ask, still holding you in that embrace. "I'll stay here until... until you want to talk, I have all the time in the world, okay?".

You pulled away from him gently and wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, trying to control the mini-spasms in your body from crying.

You just nodded. You felt a lump in your throat that prevented you from speaking normally.

Both of you sat down on the couch. The first thing you did was get rid of the cigarette that had gone out while Patrick hugged you.

You looked up and again found those bright eyes hidden behind the glasses.

You wanted to tell him what had happened, but you didn't know how to speak without crying again in the attempt.

Patrick took your hand again, his warm hand contrasting with your cold hand, sending a shiver down your body.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say with a sad smile, "I must look ridiculously bad, and... you took the trouble to come here... I-I didn't mean to worry you, Trick, I really am sorry." Your voice trembled slightly.

Patrick smiled slightly, stroking your cheek. "Don't say that... I'm here because you matter too much to me. It's not a bother at all." He paused briefly before speaking again, squeezing your hand a little tighter. "Do you want to tell me what happened?".

Your brow furrowed, but you nodded.

"He and I broke up... and it was so sudden that..." there were your tears again, but now Patrick was wiping them away with his thumb on your cheek. "The arguments were becoming more frequent, so we decided that it was best not to continue... you know... together," you managed to say.

Patrick looked at you and absorbed every word you said. At the same time, he caressed you, as gently as if you were a fragile glass doll.

You were at your most vulnerable moment, yet you felt protected; that was the special calm that only Patrick could make you feel.

He didn't need to say a single word for you to feel accompanied; he was just there, pampering you and listening to you. And that was just what you needed.

"I feel like I didn't do enough, that I could have prevented this... when he said it was best to break up... I did nothing but nod and say that maybe that was best," you tilted your head. "But I miss him, and I feel like every part of me is disintegrating every day I'm without him."

Patrick pressed his lips slightly, seeing you like this was the last thing he wanted because he was sure it was the last thing you deserved.

Silence settled in the room, only interrupted by your sobs and the soft murmur of the radio that you had forgotten to turn off.

"You know," he said softly, "I know how you feel right now... I've been through this, everything is gray now, and you feel like the world has ended... but it hasn't." Patrick took a few seconds as if measuring every word to tell you. "Sometimes it's necessary to be at the bottom of the pit, to allow ourselves to feel... and then find ways to heal."

You looked at him, with a spark of curiosity. "And how am I supposed to heal?" you asked, your voice still trembling.

Patrick smiled, a warm and reassuring smile. "One step at a time."

You raised an eyebrow in question after hearing that phrase that you thought sounded like it was from a self-help book.

"I have an idea," said Patrick, standing up without letting go of your hand. "Have you had breakfast? Or lunch?"

You shook your head, remembering that the only thing you had done since you woke up was smoke a cigarette.

"Perfect. So, how about we go to the park for a picnic? I think some fresh air would do you good."

"Patrick..." you said with a tone of reproach, hesitating.

"Come on," he insisted with an encouraging smile. "I won't take no for an answer. I promise you'll feel better."

You made a pensive face, but the idea of going to the park was starting to sound appealing. Finally, you nodded slowly, with a spark of interest. Patrick's smile helped you accept the proposal.

You got up from the couch, still holding his hand. Before leaving, you quickly glanced at yourself in the hallway mirror. You looked tired and disheveled, but that didn't matter too much at that moment.

You saw Patrick walk to your room and noticed he turned off the radio. When he came back, he had your jacket and a scarf in his hands.

"It's freezing outside," he commented as he wrapped the scarf around your neck and helped you put on the jacket gently. "I want to make sure you don't get cold, okay?"

You couldn't help but smile. Although you knew he had always been a bit overprotective of you, this seemed like an exaggeration, but you wouldn't deny that it comforted you.

They left the apartment and walked to the park, buying a small cake (your favorite) and coffee on the way.

The cold breeze made you shiver, but the warmth of Patrick's hand in yours gave you a sense of security.When they arrived at the park, Patrick chose a spot near a beautiful fountain. The sound of running water was soothing, and the quiet atmosphere of the park helped clear your mind.

Patrick spread a blanket on the grass and arranged the things they had bought there.

"Come on, sit down," he said, inviting you to join him on the blanket.

You sat down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, and in that position, they stayed for a long time.

You felt calmer and more cheerful. The attention he had paid to every detail since he arrived at the apartment made you feel special... and loved, again.

Now it just seemed like a normal day; everything you had cried about that day and the days before seemed distant next to Patrick.

While enjoying the cake and coffee, they talked about everyday things; Patrick told you some anecdotes with Pete, Joe, and Andy, related to the band and the small shows they were doing.

You talked to him about your studies, and also about how things were going at work.

Between laughter and kind words, little by little, the weight on your chest lightened.

"Thank you for everything, Patrick. Really," you finally said, looking him in the eyes. "I didn't know how much I needed this."

He noticed a very particular sparkle in your eyes, which made him smile, looking at you with tenderness.

Patrick put his hand on yours again, drawing small circles on it. "I'll always be here for you, keep that in mind next time... you're not alone... Okay?".

Now it was your turn to smile; you felt immensely happy to have this good and tender man by your side.

Regardless of the circumstances, Patrick always made you feel that he would be there, that he loved you, and that he would move heaven and earth to make you feel better.

He had never disappointed you. You were sure you had never met anyone like him, and you were also sure that men like him were extinct. And you felt lucky.

Patrick opened his arms, inviting you to cuddle up to his chest. You accepted almost immediately; you loved the perfume he used, his warmth, and everything that was a synonym for him.

The last rays of the sun slipped through the trees, tinting the sky with golden and orange tones reflected in the water of the nearby fountain.

You looked at the scene, and for a moment, you felt that everything would be fine. Patrick was your anchor, and at that moment, you knew that nothing bad that could happen to you would compare to what you felt when you were with him.

#patrick stump #fob #patrick stump imagines #patrick stump x reader #Patrick stump fanfic #Patrick stump x Female Reader #fall out boy #Fall out boy imagines

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americas1suiteheart · 1 year ago

Text

Better Off As Lovers

Patrick Stump x Reader

This was also posted on Ao3 if you prefer that platform, this whole text is the link. :)

[

Summary; You and Patrick have been friends since middle school and have been going to tours with him and the band to watch their shows. At one of the shows, Patrick decides to play one unreleased song he just so happened to write for you to confess his feelings. (I dunno this is kinda the summary but I'm also dumb as shit and can't make a correct summary).

Notes; I felt like writing a little something for him as I've been wanting to for a while now, and here it is! And honestly, guys, if I end up wring more Patrick x Reader fics they're all most likely to be song fics or fics based off of some of the music videos, sorry but man I'm a sucker for song fics.

Warnings; Some cursing and some bickering back and forth between Pete and Y/n over stupid stuff. Really really cheesy and unrealistic ig. Also Y/n is kind of really fucking stupid as well, but for the sake of the fic.

Word Count: 4,068 (This is literally the longest fic I've ever written oh my gods.)

<Playing- Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy>

1:32 ────ㅇ────── 3:31

God, why are these tour bus seats so uncomfortable? You'd figure that because they were meant for people to sleep in, they would be more comfortable.

You get up and stretch, heading to the cupboard where the band keeps all of the snacks to look for your hidden stash in the back.

"Where the hell are they?" You say, muttering to yourself.

You continue to scrounge through the cabinet to try and find your two twin packs of Twinkies, only to give up and walk to where the boys were hanging out.

"Hey, did any of you guys eat my Twinkies?" You call out as you walk to where you can hear the boys talking; a curtain was the only thing acting as a door for the area.

Just as you open the curtain to the "room" (aka the six loft beds that were separated by just a curtain), you see Pete and Joe munching on your beloved creme-filled cakes.

"Are you kidding me?" You say, your mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

"I told you guys so."

The two boys look at each other and then at you, a twinge of fear apparent on their faces, the creme filling on the corners of their mouths, and the wrappers thrown onto the floor.

"You two so totally owe me two boxes of Twinkies, I mean it! One box from each of you two! How did you find them?! I hid them!" You flail your arms about towards the boys, the guilt becoming more apparent on Joe's face.

Pete and Joe shuffle in their spots, licking their fingers and corners of their mouths to get the creme off from their messy way of eating.

"Honestly, you're kinda bad at hiding stuff; it wasn't that hard to find them," Pete says with a shrug.

Patrick kicks his shin from where he was sitting from across, earning a hiss of pain and a dirty look from Peter.

"I'm gonna eat all of your fucking Blow-Pops." You say, leaving the sleeping area and heading back to the snack cupboard. You can hear Pete's shouts, telling you not to touch them.

Opening the cupboard, you immediately spot a party-size pack of Blow-Pops with a large piece of duct tape stuck on to the bag, big bold letters drawn with a black Sharpie reading 'PETE'S LOLLIPOPS!!! DON'T TOUCH!!!'

Pete really liked those things, and he would individually count them to keep track of how many he had, so that way, if someone decided to take one or two of them, he would know. Which is kind of insane of him now that you think about it. Actually, scratch that, Pete was insane—PERIOD!

You grab the bag and grab three handfuls of lollipops, shoving them into your hoodie pockets and putting the bag back into the cupboard.

"Give them back, Y/n!" Pete says, grabbing your shoulders just enough to keep you from moving.

"Hell no! Buy me back my Twinkies and then I might just give you all of them back." You say putting one hand into your pocket to take out a Blow-Pop.

"Those Twinkies were practically begging to be eaten by someone, man; come on, those were in there for days without being touched."

You unwrap the lollipop, pulling your hand up to pop it into your mouth, Pete's mouth falling agape as you do so.

"Was that one of the apple ones..."

You nod your head, taking it out of your mouth. "And I've still got more. And as I said, I'm not giving them back until you buy me back, my Twinkies,"

"God, fine! But promise not to eat anymore until we get to a gas station! Especially not the Apple ones!"

"Will do," You pop the Blow-Pop back into your mouth as he lets go of your shoulders, looking defeated as he walks back to the room all of the others were still in.

You smile to yourself, sitting back into the seat you were originally in.

------------------------------

You and the boys get out of the bus, heading into the gas station as the drivers fuel up. You immediately head for the drink section, looking for a can of Arizona tea.

What the hell man, where are they?

You continue to look for another minute or so until you finally give up, heading to the soda section where Patrick was.

You had somewhat of a crush on Patrick. You always have to be honest.

You went to high school with Patrick, so you've known him since sophomore year. You had a lot of classes with him too and often hung out with each other both inside and outside of school, making you closer to Patrick than you were to any of the other kids and considering him your best friend.

When he first started playing with Joe and Pete and officially being in a band with them, you started going over to practices with him, getting to know the two better, and when Andy joined the band, it was the same with him.

Now that you think about it, you have no clue how liking him could have been avoided. He's sweet and smart—a little awkward at times too, but nonetheless an incredible guy.

I mean, the whole reason why you started looking into learning some music technology was so that you could be with him more often. A lot of what you started doing was to get to hang out with him more often.

"Boo!" You say, grabbing Patrick's arm gently.

"N/n, there you are," Patrick says, turning around to look at you, holding out two cans of Arizona tea to you.

"What the hell, I just spent like, two minutes looking for these; where the heck did you find them?" You chuckle, taking one of the cans.

"I'll never tell.." Patrick chuckles, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, thank you Patrick. I appreciate your kind gesture very much."

Andy and Joe run by you and Patrick, with Pete doing the same shortly afterwards. Some screams and laughs came with that as well. You could see the cashier trying their best to make it through all the noise, with a look on their face that could only be explained as exhaustion and frustration, clearly not wanting to be at work.

You look at Patrick and sigh, knowing that you'll have to yell at the three once again as if they were children, regardless of the fact they were all older than you and Patrick.

You walk to the snack aisle, where you can see Joe and Andy crouching down, assumingly hiding from Pete for whatever reason, and walk up behind them. Andy had a bag of skittles in his hand and a sprite in the other, while Joe carried a twin pack of Twinkies—just as you asked him for—and a bag of chips and diet coke in his arms.

"What are we hiding from?" You whisper to the two, who jump slightly and look back in response.

"Pete," Andy replies quietly.

"Well, we've gotta go; you guys will have to finish this up some other time, preferably when we aren't in a public place."

You hear footsteps from behind and stand up, turning around to see Pete walking slowly, putting a finger up to his lips as to say "don't say anything," and you shake your head and mouth, "No."

"Come on guys, go check out we need to get back on the road," you say, turning back to Andy and Joe.

Pete groans and fully stands up, Andy and Joe doing the same.

"God, you're such a grump all the time, no fun," Pete says, walking up to the cashier.

Patrick comes up from behind you, putting his hand on your back. "Is everyone ready to go?"

You blush from the contact, nodding your head in response, and walk to the register where the boys were checking out.

"No, I paid the last time. It's Andy's turn to pay now, remember?" Pete argues. The cashier looked like he was about to snap; if it was a cartoon, steam would probably be coming out of his ears right now.

"I'll pay, fine dude, just chill out," Andy says, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier his credit card.

The cashier puts their items into a plastic bag, and Andy grabs it and leaves with the other two.

You and Patrick walk to the register, putting your items down on the counter.

"Sorry about them by the way, they get rowdy sometimes," Patrick says, attempting to break the awkwardness by making small talk, leading it to get worse.

"Your total is $9.34," the cashier says with a deadpan look on his face.

The two of you pull out your cards and look at each other. "Let me pay for it, please; you had paid the last time, and it was almost 20 dollars," Patrick says with puppy eyes.

God, this guy always knows how to get his way with that look.

"Alright then, Pat. Thank you," You thank him, putting your card away.

Patrick pays and the cashier puts our stuff into a plastic bag, handing it to him, with him thanking the guy and telling him to have a good day.

You two walk back into the bus, and Patrick places the bag on the couch in the lounge.

"Do you want both of these in the mini fridge?" Patrick asks, taking one of the tea cans out of the bag.

"I'll have one now and save the other for later, if you can put one in though, that'd be awesome."

Patrick nods and puts one can and one of his sodas in the mini fridge plugged in next to the counter where the broken toaster sat. Now that you think about it, how long has that thing been broken? Why haven't any of us bothered to replace it?

You open one of the cans, walking into the bunk area, and sit on your bunk at the top, letting your feet dangle above the middle bunk.

"Y/n, here you go," Joe says, handing me two twin packs of Twinkies.

"Thanks, Joe. Here are your Blow-Pops back dickhead," you say, taking the wrapped cakes and taking all of the blow pops out of your pocket, handing them to Pete, who was sitting next to Joe.

"Jesus, dude, how many of my fucking Blow-Pops did you take?" Pete exclaims.

"A couple handfuls, I think," you reply, taking a drink of your tea.

-----------------------------

"Alright guys, we've got a couple more songs to play; are you ready?" Pete shouts into his mic, earning cheers from throughout the crowd.

The boys continue playing a couple more songs.

The band had been playing for an hour and a half now, playing some of their newer songs from the newest album they were working on, those of which you had the pleasure of getting to listen to before they played them for others, as well as songs from Take This To Your Grave and From Under The Cork Tree. The crowd was singing the lyrics along with the band, enjoying all of it.

"This is the last song for tonight and is another one from the album that we're currently working on; this one me and Patrick worked on together is called Bang The Doldrums!" Pete says, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead.

Patrick adjusts the strap of his guitar slightly, walking up to the mic. Him and Joe begin to play together, with the rest of the band joining in.

You listen to it for a bit, you hadn't recognised the name but you figured that they had probably changed it.

'I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out,'

What the hell? I haven't heard this one yet.

'I couldn't bring myself to call, except to call it quits,'

This is great; why hadn't they shown me this one? They all sound amazing.

Patrick looks at me as he sings the next verse; his face tinted a slight red, maybe from how out of breath he was getting? God, he always looked so pretty like that.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You listen to the lyrics; why did he look at me like that in that exact verse? Maybe I'm just going crazy.

'Racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow-checkered cars,'

You continued to listen, enjoying the sound of the way they were playing.

Then once again, Patrick looks at you, looking less nervous and giving a slight smile as he sings the same verse.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You can feel your face rapidly becoming warm, oh?

You think for a bit, your mouth slightly agape as you stand still. You just hope what you think is happening and what he's implying is actually what it is. No, no way. You guys have just been friends since high school; there's no way.

'..in the back of yellow-checkered cars. You're wrong, are we all wrong?

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers!'

The song ends, and the band thanks the crowd before exiting the stage, allowing the stage technicians to begin striking and taking everything down.

You were still standing there as the crowd began to clear out. Shit, you should get to the boys. What do I do about how Patrick looked at me? What if I ask him about it and I'm totally wrong? Oh god, I'm screwed.

You begin to head to the door that lead to the backstage lounge, a security guard protecting it from letting anyone else in. The guard immediately notices you and lets you in.

You nervously walk to the same area that the boys were in, knocking on the door and hearing Joe shout, "Come in!"

You open the door and smile at the boys, who were sitting down, drinking water and using towels to dry themselves off.

Where's Pat?

"Hey guys! You sounded awesome tonight, what was with that last song though? I'd never heard it before." You greet, sitting down on one of the metal pull-out chairs across from everyone else.

"Thanks! We were going to show you Bang The Doldrums when we were first working on it, but about halfway through writing it Patrick had said something about waiting to play it at a gig instead, something about surprising you, I dunno," Pete says in response, taking a chug of his water bottle.

"Where is Patrick, by the way?" You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

"I think he went to go and look for you actually; try ringing him or go and look for him; he's somewhere around here," Andy says.

"Shit really? I'll go try to find him now. Do you guys need anything that could be outside of this room?"

"Can you get us some more water? I'm still totally parched man," Pete asks, taking the towel he had on his shoulder to wipe his face off.

You nod and get up, leaving the room and closing the door to go and look for Patrick.

How on earth do you know where every place in this theater would be? This place is huge..

After searching around, you finally decide to go outside to check if he was in the tour bus by chance, only to see him sitting on a curb next to the door hidden from all of the different fans still exiting the venue.

"Pat? What're you doin' out here without a sweater on? It's freezing right now." You speak out, walking to where he was and sitting to the left of him.

"Oh, I went to look for you, and when I came out here, it was way cooler than it was in the theater, so I stayed out here to cool off a little bit," Patrick says, straightening his back and looking at you.

You nod in a way of understanding.

"How'd you like the show, though?" Patrick says, after a few seconds of silence.

"It was great! You guys never have a boring gig; everyone was loving it. What was the last song about though? I had never heard you guys play it up until just now." You say excitedly.

Patrick shifts slightly, looking away from you as his face flushes, now looking slightly embarrassed.

"I mean, it's not that it sounded bad or anything; it sounded great, but, during that chorus, you kept looking at me and, well," You say awkwardly, avoiding saying what you actually wanted to say.

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds before Patrick broke it.

"Sorry about that, I don't know if it made you weirded out or anything." Patrick says quietly.

"'Weirded out?' Pat I don't think you can really do anything to weird me out honestly. I didn't mind the contact all that much really." You lightly laugh, quietly mumbling the last part.

After saying that, you notice Patrick relax a bit, as if he were relieved and a little bit of a weight was off his shoulders.

"Y/n, can I tell you something?" Patrick says looking down at his shoes, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, of course," You reply, anxious for his words, yet somehow excited at the same time, wondering what they might be.

"This is going to sound so stupid, gosh. Um," Patrick chuckles, trying to calm his nerves as he twiddles his thumbs together, then proceeding with what he was saying. "I uh, would you hate me if I said that I really liked you, and not in a friend sort of way but um,"

You stay quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. You're glad that it was dim in the little corner you two were sitting at so that he wouldn't see how red your face was turning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi-" Patrick apologises before getting cut off by you.

"Patrick, don't be sorry," You say.

Patrick furrows his brows, creasing his forehead slightly, turning to look at you with confusion clear on his face.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I've waited for you to say something along the lines of that," You continue, grinning widely.

Patrick's face softened, a small smile appearing onto his face.

"So, does that mean that, well, you know," He says, looking at some cracks in the concrete, kicking at a pebble aside.

"Yeah, it means exactly that, Trick," You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back.

He looks back at you, smiling, his eyes that you looked into so often seemed to shine brighter underneath the dim light that the venue had over the door in the back that barely showed any light where you two were sitting.

Patrick brings a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch, doing the same as he did.

His eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, quickly returning to your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" Patrick asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod your head and lean in as he does, fluttering your eyes closed.

Patrick closes the gap between the both of you, his breath warm. The kiss is soft and sweet, not pressed too hard against each other but still with passion. Your lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, as if they were made specifically for the both of you and just the both of you alone.

You two pull away, pressing your foreheads together, panting ever so slightly from the lack of oxygen the both of you got during the kiss.

There was a peaceful silence for a few seconds, you swear that if it weren't for the muffled music and talking of the crowd outside Patrick would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"God, if I knew this would be the outcome I would've told you years ago," Patrick chuckles lightly.

You smile, now realizing that this wasn't a dream and that your best friend since high school really confessed what you dreamed he would for years now. That you two really kissed and it wasn't some guy that you pretended to love in hopes of letting your feelings for Patrick disappear, and you were so glad that your mind and heart didn't let that happen.

"Oh my god finally, you two are idiots," Pete says, standing on the steps that lead to the door to get backstage.

You and Patrick quickly pull away from each other, your face burning up quickly.

"What the hell do you mean 'finally'?" You say, looking at Pete in confusion.

"We've been waiting for you two idiots to finally say something to each other for years now,"

You look at Pete for a few seconds, the cogs in your head turning.

"What?"

"I mean, you two were so painfully obvious, I'm honestly surprised that you two didn't figure it out way earlier man. Oh! Wait, wait, who confessed first? Was it you Y/n?"

Joe and Andy walk out and stand next to Pete.

"Did it finally happen? Who said it first, do you know?" Joe asks.

You and Patrick stare at each other, completely baffled.

"Was it Patrick?" Andy asks.

You flush even more, looking back at the three, then quickly looking away.

"It was totally Patrick, I called it! Come on pay up you two,"

Joe and Pete groan, taking out their wallets.

"Did you guys place bets on us?" Patrick asks, getting completely ignored by them.

"How much was it again, I don't remember it's been like 5 years now," Pete asks, looking at Andy.

"I think it was either ten or twenty,"

"Can we just say it was ten? I don't have a twenty or two tens on me and I don't want to go to the ATM tomorrow morning." Joe says, rummaging through his wallet.

"Sure that works," Pete and Joe both hand Andy one ten dollar bill each.

"What the hell, was Andy the only one that thought I would confess?" Patrick says. He seemed more upset at the fact that Pete and Joe put their bets on you confessing first rather than him.

"Come inside, it's freezing out here and we still haven't gotten our waters yet," Pete says, holding the door open for Andy and Joe.

You get up and gesture for Patrick to do the same, walking to the doorway.

"I fucking hate you and I hope you know that," You whisper to Pete jokingly, proceeding inside with Patrick and Pete behind you.

"Love you too N/n.." Pete says sarcastically, walking to the table where a load of plastic water bottles were, grabbing three of them.

"I hate him," You say, looking at Pete walk away and disappear into the room the three were in before.

"Me too sometimes but honestly if it weren't for him I probably would have never said anything," Patrick looks at you.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that organized the whole plan of playing Bang The Doldrums and not showing it to you until earlier during the show," Patrick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Huh, he told me you said something about not showing me until now. You know, maybe I don't hate him as much anymore now."

Patrick laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the table, grabbing two bottles for himself and you.

You smile to yourself, looking at your entangled hands then at him as he walked you to the room the boys were in.

You couldn't have been happier in all the years of your life up until now, and you wouldn't change or trade it for anything in the world. You were happy that you finally got to be like this with Patrick, the boy that was always so nice to everyone no matter what, the boy that knew exactly what to say if anyone was ever down, the boy that never left you no matter how difficult or bad it got.

This was the boy that you fell in love with since the moment you saw him, and he loved you back.

3:13 ─────────ㅇ─ 3:31

This took me forever to finish, and thank gods that I hyper fixated on FOB again (more than many times throughout the making of this fic,) because if not it wouldn't have ever gotten finished. I think I might end up writing more fics for Patrick, let me know if you would like for that to happen, send in some requests if you would like as well! Thank you for reading this seriously, regardless if your new or if you've been a follower since I started posting my fics on here, I appreciate you all for continuing to read my stuff because it makes me truly feel like I'm getting better and that people enjoy my stuff.

#patrick stump #patrick stumph #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump imagines #fob x reader #fall out boy #fall out boy x reader #fob #infinity on high #post hiatus fob #song fic #Y/n is kinda stupid #one of those oblivious towards one another types of fics i dunno man im a sucker for that shit #kinda cheesy but sweet ig #if you were looking for something more realistic then you wont ever get that with band fic i dont know what you expected man #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley

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ladysharmaa · 6 months ago

Text

Heir

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant

It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.

They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.

Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.

Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.

After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.

"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.

Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."

The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"

"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.

Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.

"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"

"How lucky I am."

"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."

Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.

Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.

Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.

However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.

Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.

"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.

And since then, they've never brought it up again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"

She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.

However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.

"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.

When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.

"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"

Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."

Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.

Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.

"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."

"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.

Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.

However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.

And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.

Pregnant.

She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.

And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.

"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.

"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.

"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"

Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.

With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."

"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."

"Anthony, be nice!"

"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.

"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.

"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"

"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"

"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."

"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.

"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."

A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?

"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"

"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"

"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.

When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.

Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."

And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.

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