#got the sweater he did Not wear in public. the jacket he fucking lived in. the shirts she thought were cool.
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#max wearing billy’s clothes #the same way will does with his brother #with his MOM #i wanna die actually #‘or even mrs byers’s’ #nothing but pain #+ words #billy being forced into not only the big brother role but also the parental role #something about max seeing him as a parental figure #their relationship is so complicated and people who hate billy aren’t allowed to speak on it because they simply do not get it #it’s more complicated than just hating or loving one another #something about max finding comfort in billy even though he tried to distance himself emotionally for neil related reasons #i hate it here i hate it here #that sweater and that shirt were most definitely billy’s like there’s no other explanation #max keeping his brown leather jacket in her closet and not wearing it because it still smells like him and she doesn’t want that to go #max realising his cologne is starting to wear off the clothes she is wearing but not wanting to use up his cologne #to make them smell like him again so she just has to have a moment about it #:( (x)
Lucas On The Line // “For instance, the clothes she's been wearing lately have been... unusual. Old and oversize, and not in a good way. They remind me of Will's clothes, how he was always wearing something of Jonathan's, or even Mrs. Byers's.”
#i need like. several moments#its the fact that he died!!!!!!!!!! in her arms!!!!!!!!!!!!! on the starcourt mall floor!!!!!!!!!!!#surrounded by her and everyone else that knew exactly what was happening!!!!!#and she couldn't help!!!! she couldn't save him!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all she could do was watch!!!!!!!!! and cry!!!!!!!#and not tell anyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! except those who already knew!!!!!!!!!!!!#but then they moved on!!!!!!!! they moved on so fucking quick becos billy wasn't anything to them!!!!!!!!!!!#was just her dick older step brother!!!!!!!!! that she complained about and yelled at constantly!!!!!!!!! so like!!!!!!!#obviously she should be able to move on just as quick!!!!!!!! they weren’t even real siblings!!!!!! they made each others lives hell!!!!!#but she can't!!!!! cos it's not that fucking simple!!!! it's never that fucking simple!!!!!!#becos billys dead!!!!!! and he died in her arms!!!!!!! and not a single things been the same since!!!!!!!!!!!#homes changed schools changed the fucking weathers changed. so her closets changed too.#neil may have fucked off but max stole the shit she wanted first. even if it did cause her physical pain.#got the sweater he did Not wear in public. the jacket he fucking lived in. the shirts she thought were cool.#stole some other bits and pieces too. stuff that billy would've raised hell with if he saw her touching them.#saved them from whatever garbage neil would've thrown them in#anyway. i can not talk about this anymore i don't make any sense but!!!!!!!!!!! Emotions!!!! we HAVE them!!!!#billy x max#lucas x max#max mayfield
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HI. 1, 4, and 10 for hellcheer please <3
HI. sorry this took so long lol (and I got carried away so I'll put these under a cut -- number one got really long)
1 - Describe their first date.
Okay so I think maybe Chrissy would be the one to ask Eddie out first because even though he really wanted to he had kind of resigned himself to the 'what would a girl like her do with a guy like me' way of thinking. So she asks him out and says that since she made the move he can plan the date.
He really wants to Do It Right so maybe he asks Wayne for advice and Wayne (who hasn't been on a date since 1973) is like Boy I don't know. So Eddie is like Well Fuck and smokes a joint. Eventually he decides to go the safe route and take her to dinner. They dress up cute and go to dinner, he picks her up and pays for her meal, of course.
Afterwards, he's driving her home and he's so nervous he can feel his heart in his throat because he wants to kiss her so bad but he doesn't want to fuck everything up and jesus christ why did he wear so much cologne it's fucking suffocating--
He rolls the windows down a little bit for some air and Chrissy rolls hers all the way down and her hair is blowing in the wind and she's relaxed and she's beautiful, GOD!
He stops at a red light at an intersection and Chrissy opens her eyes. "Turn here," she says.
"What."
"Just turn here!"
So he does, because may God smite him into a pile of dust and teeth if he EVER says no to Chrissy Cunningham.
She gives directions and he follows them and when he stops and looks around he barely has time to process that the van is parked in the lot of the Hawkins Public Swimming Pool before Chrissy is getting out of the car and sneaking towards the fence like she's the Pink Panther.
He follows her and once he makes it to the fence she's already swinging her leg over the top of it and hopping down onto the other side.
Fucking cheerleaders, man.
She waves him on with this mischievous little grin so he grabs the fence and hoists himself over it, nearly breaking an ankle in the process. When he turns around (Christ, she's fast) Chrissy has already kicked off her shoes and dropped her sweater on top of them. She's standing right on the edge of the pool with her back to the water, heels hanging over the ledge. She doesn't say anything but smiles so big and holds her arms out to the side and falls backwards into the water with a loud splash.
Eddie lets out a surprised shout but then Chrissy resurfaces and she's still smiling and her mascara is running and she's even more beautiful than before. She swims over to the edge and rests her chin on her arms. "Come on, Eddie!"
Why can't he breathe? He strips off his jacket and shirt and shoes and digs his wallet out to leave with them and then backs up a few places. He gets a running start and launches himself into the pool, dousing Chrissy again as she shrieks with laughter.
She pushes off the wall and swims over to him, her dress floating out around her, and he catches her around the waist. She pushes his hair out of his eyes and he shakes it back like a dog and she laughs again and she's so beautiful and he tells her so this time and grins when she blushes. He was afraid before but he's not now and he thinks he might die if he doesn't so he asks, "Can I kiss you?"
She smiles even bigger and nods before leaning in.
He meets her in the middle and he's always scoffed when people talk about feeling fireworks or electricity but he must be caught in a goddamn lightning storm because all of his nerve endings are on fire and he could sink to the bottom of the pool and live there forever because why would he need oxygen when he's being kissed by Chrissy fucking Cunningham, y'know?
When they break apart, he feels like his chest is going to explode so he pulls her in again and smacks loud, obnoxious kisses all over her face and neck until she's laughing so hard she can't breathe and is pushing him away.
He lets go of her and kicks his legs up to float on his back, hand tangled in hers. He's looking up at the stars and the water is in his ears and tickling the sides of his face and Chrissy sinks down into the water until just her eyes and up are above the surface and she's slowly moving towards him like a little pink alligator and just as he turns his head to say something she opens her mouth and bites his bare shoulder.
He flails a little and chases after her as she swims away, and they carry on laughing and splashing and kissing until it's late enough that she has to go home. He has a hell of a time climbing back over the fence in his wet jeans, but he does it and waddles back to the van. When he takes her home he kisses her in the driveway because he can do that now, and watches her disappear through her front door.
He drives home with the windows down and a grin on his face and when he's lying in bed later and takes off his watch, he realizes he hadn't removed it before their impromptu swim earlier. It's frozen at the time he cannon-balled into the water (aka the best moment of his entire life).
He makes a mental note to get a new watch, but he thinks he'll keep this one, too.
4 - Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?
I think both of them are extremely touch starved and looooove affection but in my heart Chrissy is the main initiator.
To me, I think her mother would be very unemotional and not affectionate at all, so Chrissy just never bothered to try in the first place. With Eddie, though, she feels safe and knows he's always willing to reciprocate so she has no problem asking for what she wants, whether it's hand holding or kisses or hugs or cuddles or sex or whatever.
Eddie I think is equally touch starved but more, like. Afraid about it at first? Or not afraid, that's not the right word, but okay like he's a sweet emotional guy. Maybe when he was a kid he'd try to hug his dad and just get yelled at instead. Stuff like that. So he's internalized that and is more reserved and doesn't want to risk that type of rejection, especially from Chrissy. He lets her initiate everything and then once she does he's so into it. Eventually I think she would have to sit him down and talk about it and after that he would be able to start overcoming that mindset and then he's all over her all the time and they both love it.
10 - Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?
Okay honestly to me hellcheer are big parallel play-ers!! If they're not cuddling they're just doing their own thing together. I also think that they would have like. Adjacent hobbies but not exactly the same.
They're readers, both of 'em. Different genres maybe, but they both use it as an escape from the stresses of daily life. Maybe they'll just sit together and read silently, but I also think they would read to each other. Like maybe every night before bed they take turns reading a chapter of their book out loud to the other. Eddie likes this especially because he loves getting to see the kind of stuff Chrissy is into since she sometimes struggles to express herself and her interests outwardly. Chrissy loves it when Eddie does the voices.
Also crafting. Eddie is the kind of guy that would sit and meticulously paint his minis for D&D, or maybe he draws. Chrissy'll sit and embroider or paint or sketch next to him while he does that.
(They're codependent quality time kiddos)
Here's the link for the ask list in case anyone still wants to!
#hellcheer#eddissy#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#stranger things#my writing#ask game#ask answered#just r's thoughts#blondiest
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Helloooo love ur ficsss😌🤌can u maybe do one of the reader noticing Bakugou, Todoroki, kirishima, Sero, and Deku get boners because of the reader✨
a/n: hiiii!!! thank you <3 of course!! this is such a great request bye- i love this
all characters aged up 18+ au!!
headcanon: them getting a boner because of their s/o
key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk
warnings: swearing, fluff, boners, handjobs, lusting over u cuz the boys are simps <3, one mention of the reader wearing a skirt uniform/having boobs
nsfw under the cut!!
»»————- ★ ————-««
katsuki bakugou
»»————- ★ ————-««
You’re third years now. You’re older, mature, and you’ve grown.
Bakugou and you have been together since your first year, but now that your both almost 19, it seems like such a long time ago.
But as you’ve expressed to Bakugou, your third year uniform seem to have gone missing. Whether you’d misplaced it or lost it entirely-it was not in your drawer.
Pulling on the uniform you’d gotten your first year was a struggle. But it miraculously fit. A little more than you’d hope.
While you fit into the skirt, it barely hung past your mid thigh, and the shirt-with the first two buttons undone, had you slightly embarrassed. Hoping to hide it with a tie and your jacket-the only piece to your third year uniform that you’d managed to find-you struggled to find the courage to leave your dorm.
But you did, and you trudged into the class room, holding your back in front of your thighs, praying no one said anything.
You may have received a few teasing comments from your friends, joking about how awful the outfit looked.
But one pair of eyes never left you.
Bakugou’s.
Staring at you as soon as you entered the room, he was gripping the edge of his desk, blood running all the way to his dick.
It felt wrong to see you like this.
Legs exposed, thighs plush and on display for others to see. Your skin was damn near seeping through that shirt.
“Hey Katsu!” You smiled, sitting in your regular seat behind him. But as soon as you’d sat down, he was tugging you through the halls with him to the nearest lockable closet.
Shoving you inside he started to kiss you roughly, running his hands all over you until you glanced down and noticed the tent in his pants.
“Aw did someone get excited over lil ‘ol me?” You teased, running a hand down his chest, slipping it into his pants.
“Look at you. What were you thinkin?” He growled, lurching forward as your hand began to stroke his cock.
“I couldn’t find my uniform!”
“It’s in my dorm dumbass! You slept over Friday.” Bakugou groaned, locking his lips to your neck.
“Oh yeah, I did.” You giggle. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself at all, he was a mess.
With your hand working at his cock, he was bound to cum in his pants at this point.
But then your hand left, leaving him high and dry at his highest.
“Hey-”
“Stop being so horny.” You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Meet me in my dorm later.” You winked, leaving him to deal with himself after that.
»»————- ★ ————-««
shoto todoroki
»»————- ★ ————-««
Seeing you in his home made him smile. He was a pretty simple guy. You’d moved in with him after graduating from U.A. since his house was huge.
Perhaps warning you for something else
Okay so anyway, just seeing you lounge around his house in his clothes. Maybe you’re trying to get on at more agencies, or doing some work studies with pros, just seeing you sit on the couch talking to Fuyumi in his U.A. grad sweater and a pair of comfy sweat shorts makes him smile.
But when he comes home from either working, or perhaps cleaning up after dinner and sees you lounging in his bed in just one of his shirts he’s rushing to lock the door to his room behind him.
“Hey Sho-”
His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands running up your legs as he hovers over you.
You can feel his boner press against your thigh as he trails his kisses down your neck.
You’re smiling as you reach your hands up to touch your boyfriend, slipping them into his pants.
“I love you.” Shoto whispers as you begin to stroke his cock, a few whimpers rolling off his tongue as he hunches over you, your fingers teasing the tip of his dick.
He’s biting your shoulder trying to stay quiet as you jerk him off, and you know he’s close by the way he twitches in the palm of your hand and whines in your ear.
“What got you all excited?” You tease, slowing your movements to prolong his pleasure.
“Y-you.” He mutters, embarrassed. You smile and kiss his cheek, allowing him to finish in his boxers. He’s staring at you with teary eyes as you pull out your hand and lick off his spend from your fingers.
“Should I spend the night in your room tonight then?”
»»————- ★ ————-««
eijiro kirishima
»»————- ★ ————-««
You’re living together after U.A.
Between having friends over and work, he tries to keep up spending time with you too.
But sometimes he gets carried away.
He can’t help but dream of you at work, usually when he’s stuck doing paperwork or something dull.
His mind drifts to you, in his clothes, or completely naked.
So of course when you walk into his office completely unannounced in something sexy, he’s straining himself as his cock struggles in his tight pants.
“Hey Kiri!” You smile, holding a lunch wrapped in a shade of crimson similar to his hair.
“H-hey beautiful!” He’s biting his bottom lip as he stares at you. It’s hard to focus after the daydream he’s just had about fucking you, and now you’re standing in his office wearing something so-
“You forgot your lunch at home hun.” You say sweetly as you walk over and place it on his desk. He’s trying to scoot up further but you catch a glance of his excitement before he can hide it.
You can’t really place when the last time you actually had sex was, you’d both been so busy.
Standing behind him and leaning an arm down to free his cock from his pants, you place a few kisses on his ear down to his cheek.
“Are you free tonight?” You ask quietly as you begin to stroke his cock. Kirishima’s mouth hangs open as he grips the edge of his desk, nodding feverishly.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He mumbles, your fingers gliding over the head of his cock. You smile and shake your head.
“I can tell. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” You give him a few more strokes before pulling your hand away, moving to kiss him tenderly on the lips.
He whines as you pull away. He kisses back with a passion, wishing he could just take you over his desk.
“Wear the red one.” He calls to you as head toward the door.
“And thank you for the lunch.” He smiles.
»»————- ★ ————-««
hanta sero
»»————- ★ ————-««
Ah Sero, Sero, Sero.
This man gets hard at like simple things-KSFSKFK
It’s not a bad thing by no means, like
He just loves you it’s so sweet.
But particularly, during a movie night, you’re cuddled up on him, laying on his chest as he rubs your back.
You’re not wearing any pants, just underwear and one of his silly little graphic tees.
Your legs are warm, your head is on his chest. He’s foaming at the mouth because all he has to do is glance down your back and he can see your ass.
It makes him harder than a rock.
You can feel him get hard, but you decided to tease him.
Shifting just to tease his cock as it prods at your legs, he’s only wearing some boxers and a tee shirt too.
But he knows you know when you whimper as his cock ruts against you.
You’re sitting up and resting on his hips as you trail a hand down to his boxers, pulling his cock out as you begin to jerk him off.
You’re not even batting an eye as you continue to watch the movie, your boyfriend moaning underneath you as he palms at your hips, maybe reaching them up to tease your nipples or moving them down to squeeze your ass.
He’s cumming in a matter of minutes as you smile and glance down at him, feeling his spend run down your hand.
“So horny.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him as he grins.
“Only for you.” He responds.
He’s hard again when he watches you lick his cum off of your hand, and he’s ready for round two. This time it’s your turn.
»»————- ★ ————-««
izuku midoriya
»»————- ★ ————-««
Deku is quite easy to fluster, but he usually knows when to be serious if he’s in let’s say a public setting.
However, if there’s a lockable room he may not be as serious.
He’ll probably get hard in a similar way to Sero-that sounded weird i-
I MEAN LIKE the situation. please
You’re laying in bed listening to him talk about hero stuff or maybe about something he learned.
You’re laying on him, in one of his baggy shirts with nothing on underneath. In your defense you were getting ready to shower.
He pulled you onto the bed and tried to say on topic, but with you just looking so innocent as you lay on your stomach, your bare ass on display for him to glance at as he tells his stories, he’s turning red and fumbling with his words as his cock begins to strain against his shorts.
It’s so easy to tell he’s horny. He’s suddenly embarrassed to talk about things, or he finds it hard to maintain eye contact.
You sit up and can’t help but notice the tent in his shorts. It’s hard to not miss.
“Izu, are you okay?” You ask innocently as you position yourself between his legs, running your hands up his thighs until you can hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts.
“I-I I’m great! What are you-”
His breath is stolen as you begin to stroke his cock in your hand, bringing your lips forward to kiss the head teasingly.
He’s gripping the sheets as you jerk him off, toying with him as you call him horny and naughty.
“I love you.” He mumbles in between moans and whimpers. You reply with an I love you before he cums, making a mess all over his shorts and your hand.
“You should come shower with me.” You wink, pulling him off of the bed as you guide him to the bathroom.
“Yeah!” He smiles, his heart swelling a little more because of you.
»»————- ★ ————-««
masterlist
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#deku x reader#kirishima x reader#sero x reader#midoriya x reader#hanta sero x reader#eijiro kirishima x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou#todoroki#deku#kirishima#sero
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Delicate | Billy Russo
Summary: Billy takes you on a surprise weekend trip and is forced to face some truths about himself. [Fluff] [Alternate Timeline - Castle Family Alive] [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope]
Word Count: 4.4k
|Masterlist In Bio|
A/N: This is in the same universe as my fic Little Moments and Meet The Parents but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.
___
"I want to take you somewhere." Billy says walking into your shared office near closing time. He's got on a pair of jeans, a sweater and his boots. Not quite the usual work attire but you love his casual wear.
"A date?"
"No. More of a long weekend trip."
You raise your eyebrows and push away from your desk. A weekend trip is a big surprise. Not that you have plans or anything. "Where to?"
"England."
"England?!" You splutter. "That is not a weekend trip Billy!"
Billy gathers your jacket and purse from the hooks behind the door. "It is. The flight leaves in about two hours."
"Billy! I haven't packed a single thing, I-I'm not ready!" You take your items from him and run a hand through your hair. Weekend trips are like in-state or nearby. They're a night at a hotel and seeing a museum for two days or something. Not flying to England and doing Gods know what.
"You cannot be serious."
He wraps his arm around your shoulders. "I am serious. I've got your stuff packed. Don't worry."
"What did you pack me?"
"Clothes. Trust me, I know what you wear."
"Why the surprise? Why not tell me sooner?"
Billy chuckles. "Don't worry about it. You'll like it."
"Where are we even going?" You sigh as he walks with you out of the office and down the steps to the main floor. "London or Wales? Are we going for business or pleasure?"
"We're going to Devon."
"Where the fuck is that?"
"England."
You smack his back and he laughs. "You son of a bitch. Why?"
"Pleasure."
"Ugh why now though? Why not later?"
Billy opens the passenger door to his car as you approach it. He leans on the roof, gesturing you inside. "C'mon the airport is almost half an hour drive, and we gotta stop at the apartment for our stuff."
You sink down in the passenger seat and glare up at him suspiciously. He's being like this on purpose. You hate not knowing what is going on and he knows it. The last thing you expected to do after work was to be hurried onto a plane that is no doubt a multi-hour flight. But here you are and there he is, staring down at you.
"Get in? I'm not the one wasting time now."
"God you're beautiful." He leans in and kisses your cheek quickly. "And I know you're pissed." He closes the door and walks around to get in the driver's seat. "I promise it will be worth it."
You lean your head back and close your eyes as he drives out of the lot. "It better be. This is very spontaneous and off my usual rhythm."
"I know. But you'll love it. I know you will."
"Mmm." You turn on the seat warmer and relax into the lush comfort. "You're also lucky I love you, and trust you."
Billy chuckles as his hand finds yours, thumb stroking the tops of your fingers.
"I wouldn't let anyone else pack me a bag, let alone take me to a foreign country for a weekend." You scoff. "That sounds so wildly pretentious."
"It's alright. It is a little pretentious, but we've earned it."
"You've earned it."
"Hey." He squeezes your hand and you open your eyes to look at him. "This company is just as much yours as mine."
"Bullshit. It is not. My name isn't on the lease, it's not on the LLC, I'm just your assistant and girlfriend."
Billy scoffs and turns the car into the parking garage of his apartment complex. He lives close to Anvil, honestly you don't actually need to drive. He just likes to show off his car. It gets dark as you enter the garage but you can tell he's not having any of your shit.
"When I marry you, your name will be on all of that."
"What?"
"What?"
"When you marry me?" You swallow hard as he stops the car in a space. It's only been a about six months that you've officially been an item. A little quick to be thinking about marriage.
Billy kills the engine and pockets his keys. "Yeah, when." He opens the door so nonchalantly, like he hasn't just thrown you for a loop. He walks around and opens your door. "C'mon, up and attem sweetheart."
"You're joking right?"
"About what? Marrying you one day?" He puts his hand on your back as you head to the elevator. "You're absolutely going to be a Russo. No doubt about it."
"I don't have a choice then?"
"Of course you have a choice." He presses the button to the penthouse and puts in the security key to make it go. "You can say no."
"Are you asking me right now?" You laugh and he turns, hands on your hips as he walks you into the wall, eyes locked on yours. "W-what's this about?"
Billy licks his lip and sets his jaw. It's not anger. He's making a decision in that brain of his. Is he asking? Is he teasing?
"You'll know when I ask."
"It's only been a few months. Don't rush."
"When you know you know right?"
"Billy, c'mon." You give him a look. "Using Frank's lines now?"
Billy steps aways, hands falling from your body and he runs a hand over his hair. "Sometimes that asshole is right about things."
You chuckle. "Sometimes."
"Enough about that. We have a plane to catch." The elevator dings and the doors open to the short hall before his penthouse. "Get your pretty ass changed and let's go."
"So pushy." You giggle and he shoves your shoulder. "Hey!"
"I'm pushy." He pushes again and you stumble into the door before he pins you against it. "You're so lucky we don't have time to mess around."
"Lucky?" You wiggle your ass against his waist. "Or unfortunate. Because any chance I miss to have-"
His hand comes up along your throat and you groan, tilting your head back. "Keep talking and I'm gonna make time."
"Or maybe we'd miss the flight."
"Little shit." He drops the hand on your throat and swats your ass before unlocking the door and ushering you inside. "Go change. Now."
"Okay, okay, good grief."
"We'll just join the mile high club." He calls out as you head to the bedroom to change. "I've always wanted to see how we'd fit in a tiny bathroom!"
"Those things are filthy! No!"
"Then you can ride me in the seat in first class!"
You pop your head around the door and he is grinning, leaning against the kitchen island. You narrow your eyes and he just raises his eyebrows. "Not happening."
"We'll see sweetheart."
"Whatever."
"Mmm. I'm very persuasive."
You roll your eyes and go back to changing clothes. If he thinks you're gonna do the dirty on an airplane he has a world of disappointment coming.
_________________
Billy always gets his way it would seem. Because less than half an hour ago you were on his lap, bouncing on his dick while he grinned oh so smugly. The flight was less than full for the first class seating, your nearest neighbor was across the aisle and six sections back. There were dividers between the seats, privacy walls. That's what really ended up convincing you in the end.
All that and you maybe sort of got off to the thought of being semi public about the whole ordeal. A kink you didn't know you had until Billy was whispering filth in your ear and making you squirm.
"How much longer?" You ask, curling into your seat and yawning.
"Three more hours. We'll land in Exeter."
"Seven hours to a spontaneous weekend? This is insane. When we arrive it's going to be dark. I assume you have a place for us to stay?"
Billy rolls his eyes. "Of course I do. We're not camping out in a train station."
"Oh fuck you."
"Get some sleep."
"I'd love to but I don't sleep well on planes."
"You fuck well on 'em."
"Billy!" You kick his leg and he grins. "Shut up!"
Billy puts his hand out and you take it. "We can go another round to kill the time."
You grab the complimentary earbuds in a little package and rip them open to stuff them in your ears. "Can't hear you."
"Bullshit."
"What?" You smirk, gesturing to the earbuds. "Can't hear ya."
Billy leans in and your eyes lock with his. "Maybe I should raise my voice then. And ask if YOU WANT TO F-"
You slam your hand against his mouth and he grins behind your palm. "Son of a bitch."
"You know I am." He licks your palm and sits back in his seat. He side eyes you, gauging your reaction to his childish move while nonchalantly opening a travel guide pamphlet.
You wipe your hand on his thigh and he chuckles. Whatever awaits in Devon in three or four hours better be good because he is really dancing on your last nerve. What has got him so wound up, you have no idea.
____________________
Devon is... breathtaking. It's the English country side on the ocean. The town you drove through was all cobblestone homes and shops and it looked like a fairytale honestly. Places like this didn't actually exist in your mind but here you are. It's so radically different than New York, even the country side of the state. You're stunned silent for the majority of the drive to your destination. Even in the evening it looks incredible.
Billy turns onto a road with a gate through a dense wooded area. The gate is open and he slides the rental car through carefully as not to scratch the sides on the narrow stone walls along the roadway. The path winds and winds until it opens up, the drive lined with a shorter stone wall as it leads to a large beautiful house.
"Where are we?"
Billy turns the car into the dirt and rock parking area in front of the door to the house. "We're in Dartmouth, just outside of it actually."
"Why? This place is beautiful, don't get me wrong. I'm just confused why we're here."
He looks over at you and brings your hand up to kiss. "I told you I was taking you on a weekend vacation."
"So you rented this house? Or does someone live here that we're staying with?"
"I bought it." He looks up at the door from beyond your window. "It's ours."
You turn and look at the house. "What? Billy you don't just buy a house! What on Earth is going through your head?!"
"What's going through my head is that I saw an opportunity and I took it. A friend of mine, Martin, had this place here after he got out of the Marines. His wife was English. Anyway, the family moved recently, and left everything behind because it is too expensive to haul across the ocean to Texas where they were relocating."
"So you bought a house with someone else's whole life inside?"
"Well, they took their personal belongings. It's furnished and decorated but we can change that."
You look over at Billy and lay a hand on his chest. "This is insane. Why would you buy a house in England?! What could you possibly want to do with it?"
"Live in it."
"Billy. Anvil is in New York. How do you propose to move here, bumfuck nowhere England, and run the company?"
Billy smiles and kisses your cheek. "Semantics. C'mon let's go see the house."
"Billy!"
He climbs out of the car and walks around to open your door. "It's beautiful, you're going to love it."
You step out with his hand in yours and he pulls out his keys to unlock the front door. As the door swings open you're hit with the smell of cinnamon, warm earthy spices, and vanilla.
"Come inside." Billy pulls you in gently. "It's incredible."
Inside is far more than incredible. It's like a dream, a home from some show book. The floors are dark natural wood, there are stairs with intricate banisters by the door, three archways to various rooms that are just the epitome of a country house. It's rustic, traditional like a farm house that's been updated to the modern century but kept it's charm. You feel like you're in a fairytale still, but it's real. It's so real and the house is so beautiful. You've never seen anything like it with your own eyes.
"Billy...this is...why?"
"You're very attached to that word y'know." He chuckles and rubs your shoulders. "Stop asking why and start enjoying."
"I will, I mean but- this is...I don't know what to say."
"Stunning right? So different than the penthouse or your apartment."
"Radically different."
"Come explore with me." He takes your hands and walks backwards leading you into a dining area.
You look around at the empty china hutch, shelves with various pots and pans for storage and decor, the huge wood table that looks like it was handmade by someone many years ago. "You're going to propose."
"What?"
"You're going to propose to me here aren't you?"
Billy laughs and steps close, cradling your face in his hands. "Maybe."
"Maybe?!"
"Yeah, maybe." He kisses you softly. "And maybe I just brought you here to get away from everything. Work, family, obligations. We can be us here. You and me, no one else."
"Billy we can be us at home, in the penthouse."
"I know, but this is a good place. The air is cleaner, life is simpler, everything is just easier here. We can unwind."
"You really bought this place?"
"Hundred percent. I've got a few payments still but it's almost paid off." He leans on a counter and you step between his legs. He gathers you close, hands on your sides. "It's got five bedrooms."
"Expansive."
"I think if...well..." He ducks his head in a chuckle, eyes refusing to meet yours. "If kids were ever, y'know, on the table. It'd be a good home."
"William Russo, you cannot be serious about that. You've thought of having kids? You?"
"No! No, fuck no. Maybe. I don't know." He pushes away from the counter and you'd stumble back as he walks into the enclosed patio off the side of the kitchen. "I'm just saying, it could accommodate kids."
You step down into the patio and look around. It's a simple screened in area, a sitting area and a terracotta chiminea sit on the right. "You'd have to marry me first."
"First?"
"Before I have a kid."
He laughs, leaning on the door to the outside area. "Of course."
"I thought you were afraid of having kids. Didn't want them to end up like you."
"Yeah well, I told myself a long time ago I'd never mess my kids up like I was messed up if I had them. I'd love 'em every day, make sure they know their dad loves them." His voice cracks and you cross the patio to lay a hand on his arm. "I won't have my kids wonderin' if their dad loves them. I won't."
"Hey, hey, you're not your parents okay?"
"I know. We'd be good, learning from our fucked up childhoods." He laughs joylessly and gathers you into his arms. "We'd have the happiest kid ever."
"We could. Maybe. One day."
"Lotta maybe's goin' on today." He bites his lip and puts his hand in yours. "It's late. We should go to bed."
"We've got a few days right? We can explore the house and grounds tomorrow."
"Absolutely."
You slide a hand over his jaw and pull him down for a kiss. "I do love this by the way. It's very romantic."
Billy smiles against your lips. "I'm not all hard edges and sharp wit." He kisses you slowly, pulling your lip between his teeth. "I do love you."
"I know." You bump your nose to his. "And I love you too."
_____________________
The sound of rain wakes you and you open your eyes to an unfamiliar room. It takes a moment to remember where you are. England. In a house Billy bought. Right. You rub your eyes and yawn big.
"You awake over there?" Billy asks, voice heavy and raspy with sleep.
"No."
"Yes you are." He reaches over under the blankets and wiggles his fingers up your side. "Little liar. How long you been awake?"
"Few moments."
"Mmm. It's raining. Can you hear it?"
"Yeah." You roll onto your back and Billy lifts his arm up so you can snuggle into his side. "It's nice."
Billy's hand finds your hair and twirls a piece between his fingers. "It rained the first time we met, remember?"
"It did?"
"Mmmhmm. The day you interviewed for the position at Anvil. It was pouring rain, I remember because when you came in you had on bright orange rainboots that you changed out of in the main room before coming up to do the interview."
You look up at him and his eyes are closed like he's picturing that day. "You saw that?"
"Of course I did. I see everything in Anvil."
"That's been so long ago, it seems like ages."
"Almost two years now."
"Crazy how things have changed."
Billy's hand leaves your hair and joins your hand on his chest. "Things will continue to change. Always."
You hum in agreement. He's right, logically, things will always change. But you feel he means more by that. "Billy, if you were to propose to me, how would you do it?"
"There is no fun in telling you."
"There is. It's healthy to discuss this in a relationship. So, how?"
Billy sits up a bit and you slide down his chest, face on his stomach. "Now, that's not fair. What about you? How would you propose to me?"
"I think, well, I think you're too smart. I think you'd figure it out before I could get it set up. I'd have to be blunt, slap a ring on the table and ask if you wanna do this."
He laughs, hand going to his chest as he struggles for words and air. "That is a hell of a proposal sweetheart!"
"You're a hell of a pain in the ass."
"Oh baby I know." He drops a quick kiss on your head. "I know. Now for me, I like to think I'd be a classic man. Dinner, dancing maybe. I'd get on one knee in a doorway somewhere and ask you, surprise you."
"You like to think? What's the reality look like then?"
"Reality is that you'd probably find the ring before I could plan something. You little snoop."
"Hey! You gave me free reign of the penthouse. No secrets."
"Yes yes. Alright, maybe I'd just surprise you. On a walk or something."
You rub over his chest and he hums. "I'd like that. But you don't wanna marry me yet. It's too soon."
"It's not too soon if you know."
"Yeah...let's get up. We have a house to explore." You sit up and he follows. "Maybe we can go into town for some breakfast too."
"Sounds like a plan."
______________________
The house is huge, well cared for, and beautifully designed. It's nothing like the apartments you grew up in your whole life. You never had a house, always dreamed of one. You like to think this one is exactly the summation of all those dreams. Like somehow Billy knew exactly what you wanted one day before you even knew yourself.
The gesture is lovely, the intent is good, but you cannot help but wonder why. Why now? Why this house? Why this place? Surely you shouldn't be one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but damnit you and Billy have just begun living together at his penthouse. You've not even settled the lease on your apartment. Now he's gone and bought a house in another country. It makes you worry, it makes you suspicious.
You don't want to push him. He has made it clear he doesn't want you to ask why, but to just accept it. That's not like you though. You can accept up to a point.
"Billy, I want to talk." You say as he sinks down in a chair beside the pool in the back area. You've gone out there post dinner for a swim after the rain.
Billy sets his phone on the side table and raises his eyebrows at you. "We've been talking all day sweetheart."
"I want to talk seriously. No antics, no sarcasm."
"Yeah, okay." He runs a hand over his hair. It's his nervous tick. A dead giveaway that he is truly listening to your words. "What's goin' on?"
You take a seat opposite him and take a deep breath. Where to begin. "Why did you buy this house?"
"I told you. Martin's family was moving and-"
"No." You say softly. "No, you didn't have to buy it from them. You chose to. Why?"
"I liked it."
"Okay. A house like this is a lot of money I presume. And yes, maybe the family gave you a discount or something, none the less it's a major expense for it to be a place you only come to now and again. What is the plan here?"
Billy chuckles and looks back at the house. "The plan is to live in it. Obviously. It's a house."
"Billy."
"What?"
You stare at him, lips pursed.
He looks away.
"We've only just moved in together, back home in New York. Do you plan on moving everything here? I'm just not understanding how this works Billy."
"Maybe someday we could move here. I suppose that's the end goal."
"You're thinking long term then? That I will surely be in your life for the rest of it?"
"I don't like where this is going." Billy's eyes harden and you know that look too well. "Don't do this."
"I'm not doing anything. I'm just saying that we're still very new into this relationship. It's been about six months, and a year of aqaintance-ship before that. I just feel like maybe you're making some very big moves and it's a bit much."
Billy leans back on the chair and closes his eyes. "I knew this was a bad idea."
"No, hey, no. I love this place, it's beautiful."
"I should have waited but I was just so excited about it."
"Honey."
"No, listen I don't know how to be in love. I've never been in love before, I'm sure of it." He looks over at you and you reach out and grab his hand. "I wanted to do this for you, to start putting things in motion because I don't want to lose you. I know that sounds so ridiculous, how does buying a house make you want to stay with me? I don't know honestly."
You squeeze his hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere I promise."
"I've never had something like this." He gestures to the house. "A stable home, a loving family. When we started dating, I knew I loved you. Hell. I blurted that shit out that night in my apartment. You had every right to be freaked out, to leave and quit Anvil. I was half shocked you didn't."
"I do love you Billy. The feeling was a hundred percent mutual. Don't doubt that."
"I don't. But I doubt myself all the time. Am I in love with you? Or do I have love for you? Over the last few months I've sorted out that I'm in love. I don't know how to be in love. I don't know what steps to take, how fast things should move. I can count on one hand the number of relationships I've had that were more than sex, and they obviously didn't end well. If the house is too much, we'll wait. I don't care if it's years, we'll wait to move here. Or if you don't want to then we don't have to."
"I'd like to, one day."
"I just-" his lip trembles. "I think I bought it because I wanted a better life for us. We both had messed up childhoods. I had a messed up early adult life in the military, did shit I didn't want to because I had to. This house is our chance to start over, to be new people."
Your eyes widen and he threads his fingers between yours on the hand you've been holding. "What about Anvil?"
"I can relocate. Or just...do something else. Anvil seemed like a great idea when I got out of the Marines. But now it's tethering me to my past." He brings your hand to his lips. "I want to be more than a dog of war. I want to be a normal guy with a wife and a kid or just a dog is fine too. I never pegged myself as one to want the white picket fence life but here we are."
You lay your hand on his cheek and he leans into it. "Three years. Give us three years together and if you still feel the same, and we're still together, we'll do it."
Billy leans in, bumping his nose with yours. "You drive a hard bargain."
"Learned from the best."
He smiles big, lips meeting yours for a quick kiss. "It's a deal. But I do still want to come here for vacations, long weekends and the like."
"Absolutely." You hold his face, his beard scratchy under your palms. "It'll be our private getaway."
"Mmhmm." He guides you up as he stands. "Now, time for the fun we actually came out here to indulge in."
You glance at the pool and he plucks at the sleeve of your tee. "It's our pool."
"Yes it is."
"It's very private." You giggle. "Not a neighbor for a few miles."
Billy lifts your shirt hem. "That's right."
You step back and pull your shirt off, pushing your pants down quickly. Billy quickly shucks his own and you both laugh at how ridiculous you look. You jump in and he follows suit.
"I've never skinny dipped before. It's so strange, like I shouldn't do it."
"It's freeing." Billy says, floating up to you and cradling your face. "Revel in it. Feel alive."
You press your lips to his. "I've felt alive since the day I met you."
"Me too." He presses your foreheads together. "Me too."
__________
end
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As It Should Be - A Raymond Smith One Shot
Raymond is the perfect gentleman, with a perfect home, and very settled habits. One of those habits had become to cancel dates at the last minute; and in stead spend the night in with his girl.
Now, she's had enough, and decides to challenge him on it, doing everything she can, to get on his nerves. The result is much more interesting than she'd anticipated.
Hell hath no fury like a girlfriend of a gentleman gangster, who has been stood up one too many times.
Ray had given me a key a few months before, during dinner at our favorite steakhouse – his backyard. We’d been celebrating 6 months together, and he’d handed me a small wrapped box, with a pretty bow tied around it. He’d most likely used a ruler to get the paper and the ribbon exactly the sizes he needed, to make it look as perfect as possible. His perfectionism both drove me mad, and turned me on immensely.
My hands had been shaking, partly in fear – I was no near ready for any diamond rings – but Ray had given me a slight smile. “Don’t worry, darling”, he said. “Nothing near as serious as you’re worried it might be”. “You telling me we’re not serious, Raymond?”, I replied snarkily. “Just open it, love”, he said.
Inside the tiny packet lay a golden key. “It’s for the house”, Ray said. “I want you to be able to come and go as you please… Just don’t try to break in to any locked freezers”. I raised a brow at him. “Is this because you don’t like my flat?”, I asked. “I know you have issues with council estates…”. “You spend most nights here anyway”, Ray said. “Look, I’m not asking you to move in… Unless you want to of course”. I laughed at his amused expression. “You wouldn’t last a week with me in the house!”, I said. “First time I use the wrong glass for red wine, or leave water stains on the bathroom mirror; you’ll go mad”. Ray blinked – his little adorable tick. “No, I won’t”. I tugged at his beard, and smiled. “Yes you will”.
Ray pressed the key into my hand. “Just… keep this, alright? The house feels more like a home when you’re here”. I leaned towards him, and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I didn’t get you anything…”, I blushed. “That’s alright”, Ray smiled. “You can give me head in the shower later”.
I had used the key on more than one occasion – admittedly preferring Ray’s more comfortable bed to my own lumpy mattress in my one-bedroom rental. And both Ray and me had enjoyed when I’d been waiting for him in it, naked and ready to help him relax after a tense day of whatever it was Mickey had him doing all over London. Tonight, my plan was different.
Ray had cancelled four dates in a row, just as I was about to leave the house. He’d call just as I would be about to put on my shoes. “I’m so sorry, love. Work ran late. I’ll have Bunny pick you up, drop you at the house, yeah?”. And once again, I’d end up waiting for Raymond in his house, in my pretty dress; until he’d show up – an hour later – with a bouquet of roses or a pair of earrings too expensive for the queen, takeout from some fancy restaurant; and an apologetic smile on his face.
I was beginning to wonder whether Ray didn’t want to be in public with me. I wasn’t the kind if woman he’d usually meet while wining and dining lords and ladies all over England. Maybe my teacher’s salary and fondness of things like public transport – he’d practically begged me to let him get me a car, which I’d declined vehemently – was becoming too lower class to him. I decided to challenge him on it – and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to punish Ray just a little bit, for cancelling our plans for the hundredth time.
This time, I was ready. Ray called, on cue, just as I was about to slip on my shoes. “I’m so sorry, love…”, he began. “It’s alright, Ray. I understand”, I said. “I’ll pick up dinner on the way”. Ray paused for a moment. “I don’t want you waiting in some restaurant alone”, he said. “Don’t worry, babe. Bunny will be there”, I replied. “Tell you what. You can pick up the wine”. “Ripasso?”. I heard the smile in his voice. “You know me, I’m not choosey. Just make it red”, I said. “See you soon”, Ray said, and with after a few more warm words, we said goodbye, and hung up.
Bunny gave me large grin as I jumped into the back seat of the large Mercedes, dressed in leggings, a hoodie, and a smug expression. “Hello, Bunny”, I said. “We need to make a stop”. “Of course, miss. Where?”, he asked. “McDonalds drive-through”, I said. Bunny’s smile became impossibly bigger. “Ray is in for it, isn’t he…?”, he asked. “You fucking know it”, I smiled, and leaned back in my seat.
Once inside the house, I began my preparations. My first stop after kicking off my shoes and setting down the bag of food in the kitchen, was in Rays closet. I checked to see Fletcher wasn’t hiding in it, as he’d done once before; and then went through the collection of shirts. I chose a white Armani, shrugged of my hoodie; and put it on. For an extra touch, I left the closet door open, mussed up the sheets on the bed, and threw the duvet and a pillow on the floor. Next up was the bathroom. I opened the lid to the toilet, washed up – making sure to spray some water on the mirror – and dropped the towel on the floor, once I’d wiped my hands.
I dropped my hoodie on a chair in the hallway, and made my way to the kitchen. Being a big fan of Rays espresso machine, I made myself an americano, poured it into a tea mug – drank half of it – and left the mug in the sink. I took out two plates, carrying them over to the coffee table. I chose the actual silver silverware from the drawer, and put it by the plates.
With a few final touches, and after touching up my makeup, I sat down in one of leather recliners, and put my feet up – waiting for Raymond to come home. It wasn’t long before I heard his keys turn in the lock, and I readied myself for a potential catastrophe. I heard his footsteps in the hallway, and got up to stand. “Darling?”, he called out. “Something smells… deep fried”. I heard him stumble for a moment, probably over my sneakers on the floor. “I’m in here”, I said, and went to meet him in the kitchen – knowing his usual route when he got home.
Ray looked as dapper as ever, in a tweed jacket, a vest, and a pair of dark grey slacks. He looked mildly annoyed about having tripped over my shoes; and was holding a bottle of wine in one hand, and a wrapped box from Selfridges. When he saw my relaxed attire, he looked confused.
“I love when you wear my shirts, but that’s…”. “Armani. I know", I said, and tugged at it. “It’s very comfortable“.
Ray shrugged, put down the wine, went over to slip an arm around me, and kissed me deeply. I was finding it difficult to keep my composure, as I stood pressed against his firm frame; and inhaled his scent. “I brought you something… to apologize", he said, and handed me the beautifully adorned box. “You didn’t have to, Ray", I said, and suppressed the urge to open it; in stead tossing it on the kitchen island. He looked at me with narrowed eyes, and I kissed his cheek. “Dinner’s ready. Go wash up". Raymond stole another kiss, and squeezed my bottom, before going back out into the hallway, and towards the bathroom.
“Is this your sweater in the hallway?”, Ray called out to me, as he passed it. “Probably”, I responded. “You don’t usually wear hoodies”. “You could hang it…”, he said. “Never mind, I’ll do it”. I smiled to myself, imagining his grumpy face as he hung my 15 quid hoodie, next to his own Burberry trench on the coatrack.
Once Ray returned from the bathroom, I was sipping some of the delicious red wine, from one of the cognac glasses. Ray didn’t say a word about the state I’d left his bathroom in, but he did twitch at my choice of glass. “Something wrong?”, I asked sweetly. “Nothing at all”, he said, and tried for a smile. I handed him a glass of his own, and he struggled with not holding it in his palm, as he would have, had it been filled with brandy. I clinked my glass to his, and smiled. “Everything alright with work? What made you late?”, I asked. “A meeting with some people… Nothing that would interest you”, Raymond said, and turned towards the counter, noticing the half full mug of coffee in the sink. “I’m happy you’re making yourself at home”, he grunted, and peeked out the corner of his eyes at me. “Well, you told me to…”, I said, and linked my fingers with his.
Rays eyes twinkled, and he leaned in for another kiss; parting his lips, to deepen it. His tongue probed for entry to my mouth, but I pulled back. “Let’s eat”, I said, and walked towards the living room area. “I’ll set the table”, Ray said. “I already did”, I smiled. He looked confusedly at the dining table. “We eating outside?”, he asked. “No. I set us up over here”, I said casually, and threw myself on the couch; patting the seat next to me. Ray looked flabbergasted. “I have this lovely dining table…”, he tried. “Bring the wine”, I said, ignoring his words.
Ray sat down next to me, and filled my glass. I picked up the paper bag of food, and began distributing burgers and fries on the plates. “I got chili cheese tops and chicken wings as well”, I said. “Eat up”. I picked up the knife and fork, and began cutting into my burger. “That’s a … salad fork”, Ray said, his voice choked. “There’s salad in the burger”, I shrugged. Ray looked at me incredulously, as I dipped a few fries in my ketchup, and then – deliberately – let some of it fall and stain his shirt I was wearing. “Woops”, I said, and grabbed a napkin, beginning to dab at the stain. “Fuck, darling. That’s dry clean only!”, Ray sighed. “I’ll get it out… maybe some bleach”, I said. His eyes widened.
“What’s going on with you?”, he asked. “Nothing", I said, feigning confusion. I took a big bite from my burger, using the silver salad fork to put it there. “Yum". Ray took the fork from me, just as I was about to take another bite. “What are you doing?", I frowned “Why are you testing me?”, he demanded. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean, babe", I said. “I’m just enjoying a date with my darling”. “In a stained Armani shirt, and leggings?”, Raymond said. I shrugged. “It wasn’t like we were going out anyway". “I had reservations at…”, he began. I blew a raspberry at him, catching him completely of guard. “Like there was ever a chance we’d use those", I said.
Raymond’s eyes finally lit up in understanding. “You’re angry that I was late, and we had to change plans tonight". “Tonight?”, I sneered. “Try the last… five dates we were supposed to go on". Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath. “I see… This isn’t how I’d seen the evening going either, love". “Sure it was", I said, getting up from the couch with my cognac glass of wine in hand. I took off my socks, and walked over towards the door to the yard. I opened it, and threw my socks outside. Ray got up behind me, in shock. “Its fine, really. I don’t mind the fact that you don’t want to be seen in public with me. That I’m not worth enough to be taken out somewhere nice”. Using a chair as a step, I walked onto the dining table, and made a little catwalk back and forth. Ray looked equal parts terrified, astounded and enraged. “This way, I can show you how truly at home I feel here".
“Please get off the table", he croaked. “No”, I said, taking a sip of my wine. “Please", Ray tried again, obviously trying to control himself. “Not happening", I said. I stopped my leisure stroll back and forth, and looked Raymond square in the face. We were both quiet, and it was like a standoff in one of those old western movies. “Get off the fucking table, or else…”, Ray said, patience clearly wearing thin. “Or else… what?”, I challenged him.
Though enjoying my little game, I was also beginning to fear that I was digging myself into a bigger hole than I could get out of. Raymond’s eyes were on fire, but I thought I could see something behind the rage – something quite intriguing. I decided to keep my game going. Either Ray would kick me out on my ass, or something else would happen; something much more fun. Either way, I’d have some sort if closure. “I will spank you six ways from Sunday", he said. I hadn’t expected that. “Is that a promise?”, I asked, not sounding remotely as confident as I’d hoped to.
As I lifted the glass to my lips again – all the time keeping my eyes on Ray’s – I shifted my fingers, so that I was palming it in my hand. Ray blinked again, twitching from my teasing.
Suddenly he made a jolt forwards, as if launching himself at me, and I almost fell of the table as I stumbled backwards. Looking down myself, I realized some of the red wine had splashed onto his shirt. “You made me spill my wine!”, I said. “Last fucking chance, darling”, Ray said, walking towards me; almost on the prowl. “We gonna dance now?”, I said. I walked to the middle of the table again – downed my drink – and used my toes to push the bowl of fruit towards the edge. Ray caught it just as it toppled over.
He walked over to the kitchen island, put down the bowl, and calmly took of his jacket; before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He walked over to the head of the table, cleared his throat; and set down his palms on it – his eyes dark. “Right. This is going to hurt me more than it will you”, he declared, before pouncing on me; catching my legs, and throwing me over his shoulder. He gave me a hard spank over the ass. “Will you behave now?”. “No!”, I yelled. He set me down, and turned me around by the shoulders; forcing my upper body down over the table, with a hand pressed down between my shoulder blades. I could honestly say I’d never been more turned on in my life.
“I asked you nicely, and you still acted like an imp”, he said. He used his free hand to pull down my leggings, exposing my panty-clad bottom; and as I kicked my legs, he removed them completely. “Impish behavior demands punishment”. He delivered a hard smack on my left cheek. “Ow!”, I yelled, trying to wrestle myself away from him. “You’re spanking me like a child, now?”. Ray leaned to hold me down with his whole arm. “Well, if you’re going to behave like a child…”, Ray said, and spanked my right cheek. His hand rubbed over my skin afterwards, almost soothingly. “You’re the one who should be punished!”, I growled. “You’ve been cancelling all our plans lately”. Ray spanked me on the left cheek again. “That’s what you’re doing? Punishing me?”, he asked. He gave my right cheek another smack. “When all I’m doing is keeping you happy… getting you flowers and presents; telling you to make yourself at home in this nice house… Oh, no; love. I’m a fucking prince to you”. “Yeah, I’m really feeling my princess Di fantasy here!”, I scoffed.
Raymond began spanking both my cheeks in turn. I let out yelps and whimpers at each hit; as they sent signals straight to my core. “This is for the silverware (smack)… This is for throwing the towel on the floor (smack)… For the glasses (smack)… For leaving your shoes about for me to trip over (smack)… And this (smack), is for walking all over my dining table on your bare feet (smack)…”. I was struggling in vain to get free; and at the same time wanted this torture to never end. His fingers ghosted my covered folds, and I drew in a short breath. Ray pulled me up to stand, and raised a brow, as he looked down at me. “Now, will you behave?”. “Not in a million fucking years”, I said.
Before he could catch me, I sprang towards the kitchen island, crawling on to it. Ray caught my ankle, but I managed to get free; and got down on the other side – the island now a barrier between us. I smiled wickedly. I grabbed the half full mug form the sink, and held it up as to spray the coffee at him. “Careful, Raymond. I know how you dislike getting dirty”, I smirked. “I’ll show you how fucking dirty I can get, babe", Ray growled, and sprang over the island, making me drop the mug back into the sink in pure shock.
Ray pulled me into his arms, pinning my arms down at my sides, and attacking my lips with a feverish kiss. I didn’t struggle now; my body responding by completely giving in to lust. After a moment of passionately kissing me, Ray let me go; and ripped open the shirt. “You ruined my shirt”, he growled, and pulled it off me; leaving me in my bra and panties. He was still impeccably dressed himself. The mix of his warm body and the cool fabric of his vest pressing against my naked skin was heaven. I began leaning against Ray, and bit my lip with a smirk. He shook his head. “You want to use things the way they’re not supposed to be used? Fine. Get your ass on that counter”.
My jaw dropped. Sex with Raymond was always thrilling, and we’d enjoyed these sessions, not only in his – and a few times my – bed, the backseat of his car, and in the shower; but also, one time in a fitting room, where Ray had come with me to help chose a dress for a job interview at a private school. I made the mistake of bending over with my back to him; and suddenly found myself pressed against the wall, with Ray covering my mouth with his hand, to muffle my moaning as he screwed me into oblivion. I hadn’t gotten the job, but I did gain a memory for life. In spite of this, we’d never had sex in his kitchen. Ray had this obsession with keeping everything in his home as it should be, and I had a feeling that it might be because he needed to control at least some things in his otherwise quite unpredictable life.
I gave myself a second to feel bad for having disrupted his perfect home base; before he lifted me up to sit on the kitchen island. He snatched a pair of scissors out of a drawer, pulled out the fabric of my panties, and cutting through them at my hips. “You bought me these!”, I said. “I don’t care”, he growled. “I’ll get you some new ones”. He ripped the ruined panties of me, and looked down at the apex of my thighs. The cool wooden surface against my bottom made the sting from the spanking subdue, and I shifted to get more comfortable. The moment seemed to drag out forever, as Ray just looked at me. He took a deep breath. “Don’t move”.
Ray left the room for a moment, and then returned; having poured himself a proper glass of probably very expensive scotch. Leaning back against the counter opposite me, crossing his legs; he took a sip of the drink, and commenced his staring at me. “I have to say, that is the most appetizing piece of meat laid out in my kitchen in a long time”, he said. “Ray…”, I said, feeling myself melt under his gaze. A wicked smile ghosted his face, when suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket. He leisurely took it out, and picked up the call.
“Yes?... Handled it this morning. Meeting’s set up for tomorrow afternoon… No, you didn’t interrupt anything, boss. Just preparing dinner…”. He began strolling calmly around the kitchen, and I didn’t dare move. “I was about to ask her, but she’s a bit preoccupied at the moment… I’m sure she’d love to, count on us…”. He took another sip of his scotch, and then held the glass to my lips; seemingly for me to taste. As I opened my mouth, he pulled the glass back, and dribbled some of the amber liquid down my chest instead. I frowned, and parted my lips to speak; but Ray set down the glass, and held a finger to my lips. “Will we be needing extra security…? I’ll take care of it… Yes, of course, I’ll wait…”.
With the phone still to his ear, Raymond licked the trail of scotch on my skin, from my collarbone, down to the top of my breast. My breath hitched at the sensation of his hot tongue. Just as he was about to move the cup of my bra down, to go for my nipple, he stepped back again. “Yes, I’m here… Did he…? Well, he’s a right cunt, but consider it handled… I’ll keep you in the loop. Goodnight, boss. Give my best to Rosalind”.
He hung up the phone, and put it on the counter next to me. His fingertips travelled over my thighs; avoiding my warmth. “Sorry about that, but you know how it is”, he said. “Now where were we…?”. “You were wasting a 1000-pound scotch on my tits”, I jeered. “1500”, Ray said. “And I wouldn’t call it wasted”. He took another sip of the scotch, but before he swallowed it, he put his lips to mine; letting me have a taste. “What was that about you not being worth enough? I usually don’t baste my meat in expensive whiskey”.
He put his hands on my ass, and made me scoot forwards on the counter. His fingers travelled down my belly, and finally met my folds; dipping in between them. I drew in a ragged breath, as he slid his fingers up and down. “Let’s have a taste”, he said, and removed them again, putting them into his mouth. “Sweet, bit tangy, perfectly moist”. He dipped his fingers again, this time letting one of them dip in to the knuckle, and crook upwards. I threw my head back, and closed my eyes. He removed the finger again, and I groaned. “Quit with the games, Ray”, I complained. “You started this, love”, he said. “I’m just finishing it”. “Then, bloody finish it!”, I retorted.
Raymond stepped back, corrected his glasses, and clicked his tongue chidingly. “Now, now. No need to be greedy. We’ve got all night. As you said, dinner plans are out the window”, he said. “Fine. I wasn’t hungry anyway”, I said. He raised a brow at me. “No? Let’s see if we can wake that appetite”. He thrusted two fingers into me, and used his free hand to get me to lie back; before moving it down to brush against my clit. “Please…”, I whimpered. “Please, what? Forgive me, Ray? I’ll never be a brat again, Ray?”. He thrusted his fingers upwards, touching my sensitive spot inside, as he began rubbing circles on my nub. “No…”, I said, not wanting to give in. I struggled to keep my composure, but as Ray began thrusting harder, and stroked deliciously at me, I was soon too far gone to speak. “I’m…”. “That’s what I thought”, Ray said calmly. I clambered to hold on to something, put found nothing but a rolling pin; which fell to the floor, making a clanking sound to accompany my own cry of passion, as I came.
Ray gently withdrew his fingers, wiped them of in a handkerchief from his pocket; and took my hand for me to sit up. “All good?”, he asked, his face not giving away an ounce of emotion. His pants were giving away enough, though; as the bulge on the front of them had grown quite a bit. “Living room”, he ordered, and as I got off the counter, and walked towards the door, he turned around, and quickly washed the mug in the sink. “Tea mug for coffee. Honestly…”, I heard him mutter.
As I stood in the dimly lit living room alone, waiting, I shivered from the chill entering through the still open door to the back yard. “Ray?”, I called out. “Coming, darling”, he responded, and he came through the doorway; walking over to the patio door, and closing it. He gestured at me to get over to the couch. “Knees”. He was carrying the whiskey-glass, and refilled it. “Don’t I get one?”, I asked. “No… I said; knees”. He sat down on the couch, legs spread casually, and looked on, as I got down on my knees in front of him. The elitist machismo in the room, was thick enough to carve with a butter-knife. “How’s the appetite?”. “Getting there”, I admitted. “Well, bon apetit”, Ray said, and gestured towards his crotch.
I rested my elbows on his thighs, and unbuttoned his pants; pulling down the zipper. Ray made no move to help me unwrap his erection, so I went on to pull down the elastic of his boxer-briefs as well. He let out a silent grunt, when I wrapped my hand around him; and I smiled at his respond to my touch. I began stroking the velvety skin on his hardness; and Ray took a sip of his drink as he watched me. I stuck out my tongue, and flicked the tip over the sensitive spot under the head; before flattening it, and sucking him into my mouth. Ray tasted as good as he looked and smelled. A perfectly expensive taste, with an undertone of something animal – dangerous even. I bobbed my head up and down, hollowing my cheeks to make my pull on his penis tighter. Putting my hand into his bowers, I managed to get his testicles over the elastic as well. This made me able to massage them gently; rolling them in my palm the way I knew he liked.
My vagina was still sensitive from Rays former treatment, so when he leaned forwards, ran a hand down my back – between my cheeks – and slid a finger between my folds; I almost came from just that second of contact. Ray sat back again, and continued his viewing of my work on his cock. “Don’t stop on my account”, he said. I made a swallowing movement, and another stifled groan came from him. I hummed slightly; making vibrations to add to the sensation. I added pressure to his testicles, and felt them tighten in my hand. Apparently, Ray was even more impacted by my treatment, than his face gave of. I released him from my mouth with a pop, and smiled sweetly up at him. “Enjoying yourself, Raymond?”, I asked. He cupped my chin. “You know I am, darling”, he smiled. “But it seems to me, you are as well”. I nodded, and bit my lip.
I went back to sucking him off, while he finished his drink. I could tell he was struggling not to grab on to me, so I took his free hand, and put it on my head. At first, he simply ran his fingers through my hair; but then held on to it, and began controlling my movements. I let go of his testicles, and held on to his thighs, as I let him take charge of me. Ray led me to take him shallowly; then pressed me as far down as I could take him. After a few minutes, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, and let out audible grunts and gasps, accompanied by a series of fuck, babe and that’s perfect, darling. With one final deep push, his cock twitched; and he came in my mouth – holding me there until he was completely finished. He let go of me, and I sat back on my heels; swallowing.
Ray took a moment to calm his breathing, before getting on his feet, and helping me to stand in front of him. He put himself back into his pants, and led me in front of him, towards the bedroom. I knew we’d end up there at some point; and suddenly felt a chill down my spine, when I remembered the state, I’d left the room in. Before he could open the door, I stopped him. “Ray… Uhm…”, I started. “What?”, he asked. “I sort of left a mess in there… The closet…”. “Fletcher wasn’t in it again, was he?”, Ray growled. “No, nothing like that…”, I said. He gently pushed me out of the way, and opened the door; stepping inside, and turning on the lights. “The fuck…”, he said from inside. I moved up behind him. “At least I didn’t spill ketchup on anything…”, I tried.
Ray began removing his vest and shirt, not saying a word all the while. I was worried – and at the same time hoping – that I was in for another spanking. I went to sit on the bed, and heard Ray open his belt behind me. “No", he said calmly. I turned to face him, and saw he was shedding his pants and boxer briefs. Undressed, Ray was no less regal. He might as well be wearing a dinner jacket, and holding a glass of port. As it was, he was naked as the day he was born, standing proud and fit. I sent a thankful thought to his personal trainer; or, Coach, as I knew him. Ray put his clothes in the hamper, removed his glasses, and placed them on the dresser in the spot he always did.
“Seeing as you’ve thrown half the bedding on the floor, we might as well start there”, he said. “But the bed is right there…”, I said, slipping an arm around his torso. I ran my hand up his chest, and back down, running my nails through Rays pubic hair – as always, well groomed, and blonde as his head. He raised a brow at me, and caught my wrist, as I was about to take a hold of his penis. “And the red wine glasses were right within reach too, but you still chose something else", he said. “You asked for this, love. Its upside down-day".
With a swoop of his arm, Ray had me on the floor, and he patted my hip to make me roll onto my stomach. Once there, he gave me hard smack over my bottom. “Lift", he ordered, and when I did, he took the pillow; putting it under my hips, so my ass was raised in the air, and my chest against the duvet covered floor. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Ray kneeling behind me. The view of my bottom and wetness had made him hard again, within record time; and he stroked himself a few times, while he probed my entrance with his fingertips. Stroking my cheeks with his free hand, he then gave me one more hard spank. With a firm hold on himself and one of my hips, he pushed into me; bottoming out with the first thrust.
“Oh, my… fuck!”, I cried out. Ray stroked my back up and down gently, and then spanked me again. “I thought my spanking was over”, I whimpered. Ray leaned over me, to kiss my neck, and speak into my ear. “Why would I stop, when you keep making those delicious little squeaks every time I do?”. He smacked me one more time, and I whimpered loudly. “There we are".
He began moving his hips, the blunt tip of his cock rubbing perfectly against my front wall. I rolled my lower body, and with the pillow under my hips, my back was perfectly arched to make the sensation of Ray inside me more intense than ever. Ray kissed and nibbled at the sweet spot on my neck, as he moved in and out of me. “You taste better than a Big Mac, any day of the week”, he chuckled. His warm breath against my skin, sent small jolts to my warmth, and I moaned wantonly. I clenched the muscles in my tunnel around him; knowing that it was one of his favorites among my tricks. “Fuck, you know what that does to me, love…”, he croaked. I repeated the action, and Ray let out a choked moan.
He placed a hand on either side of me, and held himself up to thrust shallowly, before bottoming out again. I craved his closeness, and tried lifting my body to have his chest against my back; but Ray pushed me down. He took each of my wrists in one hand, holding them behind my back, and grabbed a handful of my hair – holding on tightly, as he forced me against the floor. I was completely at Raymond’s mercy in this position. I couldn’t move my arms, lift my back or my head; and he had placed his knees between mine – making it impossible for me to put my legs together. All this brute dominance, and his casual upper-crust demeanor, had me feeling like I was in sex-paradise.
He went back to shallow thrusts, and then one deep one, trying to make me reach my climax by stimulating my g-spot. Soon after, he was successful; heat rose from my feet and all through my body, and I felt my walls contract. I cried out in extasy. I heard Raymond groan, trying to hold back his own orgasm; apparently not finished with me yet.
After I’d settled around him, Ray pulled out. “I’d love to shag you in the backyard now, but its late, and cold; so, if you don’t mind, let’s go for the bed", he said. “That works", I agreed, though my body was still convulsing. Ray leaned down and left small kisses up my spine. “Do you need to stop?”, he asked softly. “No! Please…”, I pleaded. I managed, with Raymond’s help, to get onto the bed; my legs shaking, and breath ragged. Ray grabbed the pillow and duvet, and quickly made the bed up properly; an impressive feat, as my exhausted body was splayed out on it. He got under the duvet with me, and gently spread my legs, to lay between them.
Hooking a leg around Ray’s hips, I pulled him towards me. “I think you’ve learnt your lesson, now”, he smiled, and stroked my cheek gently. I put a hand behind his head, and lifted my head to catch his lips with my own. Our tongues stroked softly against each other, and I let out a content sigh. “Soft finish?”, I smiled. Ray lifted his head, and raised a brow at me. “Fuck no”, he declared.
Suddenly, both my knees were hooked over his shoulders, and he pushed into me with a groan. My eyes rolled back into my head, as Ray began thrusting hard and fast into me; without mercy. Every thrust felt like it reached the deepest parts of me. Gone was the well-groomed gentleman dom. Ray was a wild animal, his jaw clenched, and pupils blown. His hands were holding on to my breasts, making his arms force my thighs together. I was sure that I would have bruises on both my breasts and my thighs from his attack, could not give less of a fuck; from the extreme orgasm that was building in my core. Crying out wasn’t enough; I screamed Ray’s name so loud, I was sure his neighbors would show up with noise complaints. In his current state, I was convinced he’d probably meet them in the door naked, telling them to either get in and enjoy the show, or fuck right off.
I grabbed his biceps, and dug my nails into his skin, leaving my own marks on my lover. My legs stretched out, and every muscle in my body tightened, as I exploded. Ray growled from my walls tightening around him, and the pain my nails were surely bringing him. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes burrowing into mine. My orgasm was at its peak, and my voice hit a pitch I didn’t know it could. Ray kept thrusting, and the feeling was getting so intense, I was unsure whether or not I’d pass out before long. “Please… I… Too much!”, I whimpered; as my body was thrusted back and forth from Ray’s movements. “Almost, baby. Keep going…”, he growled.
Just as I began thinking this is it. I’m going to die from too much orgasming, Raymond pounded into me three final times, and came inside me with a roar.
I was shaking as Ray dropped my legs from his shoulders, kissed my unmoving lips; and pulled out of me. He laid down next to me, and gave a me a crooked smile. “You still with me?”, he chuckled. “I just came… a lot!”, I croaked. “I could tell…”, he said, and moved a lock of my hair out of my face. “You’ll be happy to know, that so did I”. I laughed hoarsely.
“I should get cleaned up, before I get cum all over your Egyptian cotton sheets”, I sighed. “Fuck it. They were on sale”, Ray shrugged. I shook my head in mock confusion. “Excuse me?”, I said. “You bought something on sale?”. “Just keep it between us, love”, he said, and pulled me close, to kiss me. I tugged at his bottom lip with my teeth. “I still have to go pee”, I said. I crawled out of the bed, and made my way towards the door. “Please put the towel back on the hook, when you’re done washing your hands”, he called after me. I smirked at him over my shoulder.
Once I’d finished my business, I made my way back to the bedroom. Ray had already fixed up the bed, and left his spare robe for me over a chair. Putting it on, I searched for him; finding him clearing up the mess I’d made around the house. I leaned against the doorway, watching him. “I’m sorry”, I lied. “No, you’re not”, he said. After having put the plates in the dishwasher, he walked over to me, taking my hand and pulling me with him, to sit down on the couch; where earlier he’d been enjoying my lips around his cock. “And as much as I enjoyed screwing you senseless just now, I’d like to know where all this came from”.
I looked down at our joined hands. ”You’ve been avoiding going out with me”, I said. “I know I don’t fit in to your posh lifestyle, but…”. “That’s what this was about? Getting back at me?”, he asked. “Partly”, I admitted. “And I suppose I wanted to… make you see what I’m really like. So, you could make a decision to either accept me, or…”. “Finish it”, Ray finished my sentence for me. I nodded.
He sighed deeply. “Darling… First of all, the fact that you don’t give a shit about which fork to use, and throw your clothes around, annoys the hell out of me; and makes me love you even more”. I met his eyes, and let out a short breath. Raymond had never used that word before. “Love…?”, I whispered. “Fuck yes, I love you”, he smiled. “And you not only fit in my life, you’d leave one hell of a hole, if you left. So no, I don’t want to finish it. You’re not getting rid of me by feeding me fast food, and throwing your socks in my yard”.
I frowned. “Then, why are you always working late? Cancelling our plans?”, I asked. “Well, that is the second part of this conversation, I suppose”, he said. “I knew we’d get here at some point, but I’ve been putting it off… You know what I do, isn’t exactly legal”. “Of course I do”, I said. “It’s not normal to sleep with a .48 in the drawer of your bedside table”. Ray brushed his thumb over my knuckles, and continued. “We’ve been having some issues with another… organization, in town”, he said. “They’ve been making some threatening moves… I’m worried, that of you’re seen with me, they’ll try to use you to get to me”. My jaw dropped. “As in… They’d kill me?”, I croaked. “I don’t think they’d go that far, but I’m not willing to take that chance”, Ray said firmly.
I took a few moments to think. “Ray… you can’t keep me locked up in this house”, I said. “I’m more than happy to do what you ask me to keep safe; but at some point, I’d like to get out… make all those posh cunts jealous of my arm candy”. I tugged gently at his beard, winking at him. “Who says you’re not the arm candy, darling?”, he smiled. “What, in my 20 quid H&M dresses, and worn shoes?”, I scoffed.
Ray stood up, and led me into the kitchen. He grabbed the wrapped box. “Actually, that’s why I got you this”, he said, and handed it to me. “Now, that was quite a bit more than 20 quid, but I’m sure you’ll look just as lovely in it, as you do in everything else you wear”. I blushed, and began unwrapping the box, opening the lid, to reveal a beautiful cocktail dress; in my exact size. “I don’t have anywhere to wear this!”, I said. “And it’s too expensive to keep at my flat. I’ll get robbed. I had to buy a lockbox for those earrings you got me”. “Michael has a birthday-party coming up next weekend. His wife will have my bollocks, if I don’t show; with a date”, Raymond said. “So, I can’t cancel on you this time”.
I took out the dress, and held it against me. “Bringing me as your date for your boss’ party… that’s pretty official, love”, I smiled. “It is, and it’s about time”, Ray responded. “And as far as where to store it…”. He tilted his head, and looked pleadingly. “Please leave that rat infested hell hole of a flat, and move in here permanently. I have to take a shower every time I come home from that place”. “It’s not that bad”, I said. “My next-door neighbor bakes me cookies every Christmas”. “And the one further down the hall, sells smack out of his trunk”, Ray retorted.
I bit my lip. “You really want me here? With my novelty mugs, and sneakers littering the hallway?”. “Absolutely”, Ray assured me. “Gives me ample opportunity to shag you on every surface we didn’t make it to tonight”. “Even the table in the backyard?”, I grinned. “We’ll have to make sure the grill isn’t so hot, you burn your perfect ass”, he said. “What do you say…?”. “Fuck it. Why not…?”.
Ray smiled warmly, and wrapped me in his arms. “Just for future reference; I prefer Burger King over Mickey D’s”.
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#raymond smith x reader#ray smith#raymond smith#Ray smith reader#Raymond smith x oc#Ray smith x oc#the gentlemen#Raymond smith smut#Ray smith smut#Raymond smith fluff#charlie hunnam
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i’m sorry
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summary: Harry dates you because he knew you were interested, and well, he needed a good fuck.
warnings: Mentions of sex, a bit of fluff, a whole lotta angst, and a shitty ending
“Stop!” You laughed as Harry blew raspberries on your bare tummy. It tickled profusely and there were no signs of him stopping anytime soon. You kicked your legs in an attempt to shake him off, but as he had been doing this from your left side on the bed, you truly just ended up moving the down comforter around. He just pushed up his t-shirt that you were wearing further up to your chest and blowing more raspberries on your skin.
Your head fell back in laughter and smiles and you then felt his lips move off of your body. When you stopped laughing, you looked to your stomach to see Harry resting his arms and head on it, looking up at you with a dimpled grin on his face. “What?” you asked, smiling at him.
“M’just so lucky to have you s’all.” he mumbled, not breaking eye contact.
Your cheeks heated up and you bit your lip in an attempt to stop the biggest smile from reaching your face. “I feel the same, lover-boy.” You said, reaching down to play with his hair. He simply planted a kiss on your stomach before closing his eyes as you continued to mess with hair, relishing in the calmness of your morning.
You weren't living with Harry, the two of you had yet to say those three words, and the two of you barely got time off of work, but when you both had time off, it was domestic bliss. You had been dating for a little over 6 months, and you wanted to spend every waking moment with him. Today, he was having a few friends over and you were going to visit your friend who had come to London for a work trip, and she just had one free day.
After a few minutes had passed, you stopped running your hands through Harry’s hair and you swore you heard him whine. “I have to go back home and get ready.” You said softly, dragging your hand through his curls one last time before sitting up in his bed. He slowly got up as well, planting kisses to your nose, cheeks, and lips before rolling out of bed, and you did the same.
You slipped on the sweats you had come over in, and hesitated taking off his shirt. “Wear it t’day,” He said, looking at you before looking back to his closet. “What?” You asked. You knew he enjoyed you wearing his clothes around either yours, or Harry’s respective home’s, but in public? “Wear m’shirt today, that way it’s guaranteed y’come back here tonight, and then I can take it off you.” he said, smirking at you. You just laughed a bit and rolled your eyes before putting your bra on underneath the shirt. “Always so cheeky,” You grinned before slipping on your jacket. “So you want me over tonight?”
“Always want y’over pet, but yes, can y’come around 9ish? That way y’can meet some of the guys but not have t’be around them a really long time, y’know?” He asked, taking some trousers and a sweater out of his closet, laying them on his bed.
“Yeah, sure H, I’d love that.” You smiled, walking over to give him a kiss goodbye. You bit the words “and you.” back and opted to just kiss all over his face before reaching his lips. You felt him smile into it and you did too, pulling away. “I’ll see you tonight, bye!” You waved back to him walking out of his room. “See you, love! When y’get here, just walk in!” You yelled back a “Got it!” before leaving his house.
By the time you had driven home, gotten ready, and met up with your friend Lorelei, it was around 1 p.m.. The two of you sat in a nearby coffee shop, catching up and talking about your lives, and of course the topic came up about relationships. “So,” She said your name. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Um, yeah actually, he's really sweet and we've just had our 6 month anniversary a few days ago.” You said, smiling, thinking back to the surprise dinner he had made you. Obviously the two of you hadn't gone public yet, and only your families knew, so you were hesitating on whether you should tell her his name or not when she asked.
“Edward.” You said, deciding on using his middle name. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Lorelei, but you didn’t trust her friends, or the people in this cafe who could overhear. She simply nodded in response, taking a sip of her tea before you asked her about her love life. The conversation extended from there, and you were happy she didn’t prod anymore. The two of you went to go get lunch until she had to go to a late meeting, and you went home around 4, passing the time by making dinner and reading.
Soon it was 8:45 and you decided to start driving over, there was no harm in being a bit early. By the time you got to Harry’s, it was a few minutes before 9 and you let yourself in, just like he had asked. As you shut the door and made your way to the voices in the living room you heard your own name. You should have walked in there, not stopped and listened, but who wouldn’t be curious to what Harry would say, when asked how the two of you were?
“It’s good, not what I planned on to be honest.” You heard your boyfriend say, and your brow quirked up at his response. What did he plan on, you thought. “Y’mean being in an actual relationship?” You heard a voice you didn't recognize ask.
“Yeah, I mean you all know I just wanted a good fuck,” He said, and your eyes widened. “It was obvious she liked me, was all over me, so I jus’ started fucking her, and now we had our six month anniversary a few days ago, so it wasn't how I really wanted things t’go, but she’s cool.”
Your chest clenched at his words and your bottom lip began to tremble. He used you because he could tell you were interested, then proceeded to use you, and stayed with you because why? You were a good fuck, and cool? Not wanting to be embarrassed anymore when you weren’t there to defend yourself, you walked away and left his house silently, driving yourself back home and sending him a text explaining your absence, not like he would care.
Pretty tired today, I’m just gonna stay home, but I hope u had fun with ur friends!
Almost immediately he responded which just made your heart break a little more.
:( You sure? I can come by yours instead and just sleepover?
You sighed at his words. You knew he just wanted to have sex now, his secret was out. It couldn't stop you from wondering that if you just held out for a couple weeks would he leave you? You pursed your lips at your own thoughts and shook your head.
I’m about to fall asleep rn haha, I’ll drop the shirt off tmw before work, night H.
You put your phone to the side and decided not to check it when you heard the buzz, and instead drifted off, thinking about how the relationship you built with Harry was based purely off of sex, and not a mutual like for each other. When you woke up the next morning to your alarm around 8:30 you hit snooze on your phone and your eyes came across his text to you.
Ok angel, I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams <3
As you decided not to respond and get ready, you couldn’t help but think about how annoying it was. Why was he acting so sweet when he knew he wouldn't be getting any today? Eventually you had to push that thought to the back of your head and you grabbed his shirt you had worn and folded it before stuffing it into your bag. You drove to Harry’s house which was coincidentally on the way to your office, and quickly walked up the stairs to his pink door. You knocked and almost immediately did the door open, revealing a shirtless and pantless Harry, only brief-clad and with a smile on his face.
“G’morning pet.”
You smiled at the nickname and started to dig through your purse. “Morning H.”
You held out the Rolling Stones t-shirt and when Harry didn't make a move to grab it you got confused. “You should keep it, I just wanted an excuse t’see y’today.” He admitted, his cheeks flushing. It took everything in you not to yell as you pushed the shirt in his hands, and his cheeky smile diminished a bit. “I have to go, but just take it for now, yeah? I’ll see you in a few days when you’re done recording.” You said.
“Okay love,” He said, leaning in to kiss you, which you swiftly swerved and you ended up with a kiss on the cheek instead. “I’ll see y’soon.” He said, holding the t-shirt loosely, and you could practically read his thoughts based on his face.
“I’ll see you.” You smiled, turning around and hurrying back to your car. He watched you drive away without a single glance back to him, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the mere hours of yesterday and today. Usually you wouldn't leave without a kiss, especially when it would be a few days, but you had left today with nothing, and dipped out on him last night.
He shook off his thoughts and went to continue getting ready, ignoring the way the shirt smelled just like you, now. You went to your office, and he went to the studio, texting you every break he possibly had, of things that reminded him of you, or just saying he missed you already. It wasn't out of the normal, he had been doing this for months and only now did it ignite a flame in your chest. How dare he want you for just a fuck, but continue to lead you on like this? It was torture, you were sure. You hadn't responded to any of them, unlike what you would usually do, and it was making him miss notes and be particularly antsy.
When your shift ended, and you responded with an overall “Haha, so sweet.” He had had enough. He hit all the notes and was done in just a mere 30 minutes, and the next destination was your house.
You had changed into your pajama pants and a t-shirt when a knock was heard at your door. You were confused, but opened it regardless to see Harry standing outside your door.
“Harry?” You asked, letting him in and shutting the door behind the two of you. “Is everything okay?”
He shook his head and answered with a simple “No,” before sitting down on your couch to which you did the same. “Is everything okay?” He asked you instead, green eyes meeting your shocked ones.
“Everything’s fine.” You shrugged, still confused on why he was here. “No, is everything okay with us, I mean. You’ve been ignoring me all day, and this sounds terribly desperate, but I didn't see y’last night, and y’left this morning without a kiss.” He elaborated. You truly weren’t ready to have the conversation today, and would find any way out of it. “I was working H, it wasn't on purpose.”
“It never stopped y’from replying before, but what about everything else?” He pushed.
“I was tired, I told you.”
“But I just don't understand-”
“I actually did come over last night. When you asked me to,” You interrupted him. His eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t hear you, didn’t see you either.” Was all he said. “Probably because you were too busy talking about how you got with me for just a good fuck and how you used my feelings towards you for your advantage.” You snapped, scooting further away from him on the couch. You could tell he wasn't expecting that and when he was silent you took this change to say more. “And, I knew I shouldn't have stayed and listened, but when I heard my name and someone ask how we were? God, I was expecting a different fucking answer, but I wish I didn't stay back to listen.”
“Love, I am so sorry. Y’don’t understand, it was like that at first, the first couple weeks at most, but then I got feelings for you, and I wanted more with you.” He said, his hands fumbling together.
“Certainly didn't sound like it.” You retorted.
“I promise, I promise it’s not like that.”
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I was-god Harry, I was actually falling for you. I was going to tell you I loved you soon, because I already knew I did a few weeks ago.” You admitted softly, the tears streaming down your face. His lips trembled as he heard your words, he couldn’t believe that he was about to loose you. he wouldn’t let it happen. “I fell for y’too. I want to be with you, I don't want anyone or anything else, please, I just want you. I love you.” He begged, moving closer to you and grabbing your hands.
“Please don’t lie.” You shook your head. “I stopped lying the moment I asked you to be my girlfriend, love. I love you, so much. I was scared, and I wasn't ready to admit it to my friends, much less myself. I wasn't ready for a relationship originally, but then I found myself in one with you, and I wouldn't want anything else.”
His words just made you cry more, and he engulfed you in a hug, his eyes watering. If it was the last thing he did with you, it would be this. “Just,” you sniffled. “Just, I’m not, I can’t have sex with you again. Not soon at least, I love you, but I need to know you aren't using me, I'm sorry.”
He hugged you tighter and shook his head. “I don’t care, I just want you, that’s it.”
And in that moment you knew that maybe things would work out. Maybe.
#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles boyfriend
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dance me to the end of love (i)
word count: 4.3k
warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show
series masterpost: here
a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x
Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.
Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.
☼☼☼☼
The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.
Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.
“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.
The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”
Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”
The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”
She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.
“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”
Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”
Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.
“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”
“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”
“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”
Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”
“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.
“Who’s Gravy?”
If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.
The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.
A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”
Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”
“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.
The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.
It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.
Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.
“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.
☼☼☼☼
“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.
Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.
“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.
The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”
Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.
There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.
Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”
“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”
The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.
Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.
“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”
Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.
“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”
The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.
“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”
Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.
It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.
“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”
The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.
Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.
Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.
“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”
Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”
The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.
The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.
“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.
“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”
He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”
She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.
☼☼☼☼
Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.
“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.
“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”
Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”
There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”
“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.
Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.
There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.
“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.
If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.
“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.
Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”
The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.
A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.
“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.
The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.
It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.
“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.
Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.
Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?
☼☼☼☼
additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!
☼☼☼☼
taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)
#ryan graves imagine#ryan graves x oc#ryan graves fic#colorado avalanche imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fic#hockey imagine#hockey fic#cwrites#dmtteol
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『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 5 』
· Sept. 29th → Habit is Second Nature ·
Characters: female!reader, Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi (+ bonus characters: Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Testurou)
Prompts: A. best character development + B. patterns and habits
Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, headcanons, patterns and habits, best character development
A/N: I haven't done any character x reader stuff for this challenge yet because I tend to do NSFW stuff. But I thought I'd do some fluffy stuff about the characters with the best development and their habits as your boyfriend! (Plus a couple of bonus boys, because I couldn't help myself!! 🥰)
All my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts will be SFW, but I have NSFW stuff on my blog too. Feel free to take a gander. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ Imo~
Haikyuu × reader / patterns and habits
☆ Kageyama Tobio ☆
Gets up at 5:30am to go for a run every morning but forgets to send you a 'good morning' text don't be upset, it just doesn't really occur to him
Gets all giddy when he receives one from you, though literally cannot stop smiling. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Often forgets his pencil case and comes by your class to borrow stuff
When he buys milk from the vending machine, he will start buying some for you as well without you asking he's trying to show he cares
Milk makes him happy, so it should make you happy too, right? 😭
Frowns and blushes when you start hugging and nuzzling him in public he'll start stammering, too, if you took him by surprise
But then he pouts when you stop 🤭
Is embarrassed about asking you to touch him my poor touch-starved baby 😭
Blushes and looks at the floor whenever he talks about something romantic or intimate
Leans his forehead against yours when he wants to express how he feels but doesn't know how I might be crying...
He loves hearing the sound of your voice, so he often falls asleep while in the middle of a late-night phone call with you you can hear the soft sound of his breathing through the receiver 😭😭
Writes down important dates you tell him because he just knows he's going to forget them
Discretely interlaces his fingers with yours when he feels vulnerable prOTECT HIM
Lots and lots of hugs from behind because eye contact can be a bit much for him, and he's sometimes nervous about you seeing his face
Can get angry and shout at you without warning when he's stressed or upset, and he feels terrible after
Writes out his apologies on reams and reams of paper and rehearses them a million times in front of the mirror but somehow still forgets most of it?
Smiles like a literal angel when he does something to make you happy that's all he wants, y'all 😭
Will try his best at everything, whether it's trying new things with you or doing the same old stuff he's always done
Nuzzles the back of your neck when you're spooning, and kisses his way across your shoulders and down your back as a way of saying, 'I love you and you're mine'
☆ Hinata Shouyou ☆
Says the cheesiest, most romantic things to you with a straight face, but blushes and hides his face when you return the favour
Bounces around the room when he's excited
Always asks you how your day was and is genuinely interested
Rests his head on your shoulder when you're sitting together
Shouts really loudly at random moments because of surprise/frustration/excitement/any sudden emotion, really 😅 gives you mini heart attacks
Always sneezes really fucking loudly??
Sends you adorable cat videos when he knows you've had a bad day
Subtly presses his leg against yours whenever you're sat together, especially when you're both supposed to be studying 👀
Wipes your cheeks and kisses the end of your nose whenever you've been crying
Sings in the shower because he thinks you can't hear him
Will give his gym towel to you with a smile whenever you get soaked in the rain rather than dry himself off
Treasures every little gift you get him
Is fine becoming a human hot water bottle by little-spooning every month when your period comes around he runs at a really high temperature, and actually really enjoys it. So cute 😍
Runs down the halls to your class every break to bring you your favourite drink from the vending machine
Loves sharing cakes with you and feeding each other it sounds cringy, but he makes it so cute and natural
Always pulls goofy faces when he Snapchats you
Leaves you cute voicemails when he wanted to talk to you but you're busy
Shows up unannounced at your house when he's troubled because he just really needs to see you
If he just sees your face, then he knows that it's somehow going to be alright
Y'all, I can't 😭😭🤧
☆ Tsukishima Kei ☆
Teases the crap out of you on a regular basis just to see you all pouty and frustrated
Pretends not to remember your birthday/anniversary/etc. every year so he can drop by your house later that day and surprise you with a gift
Pulls your cheeks when he thinks you're being too cute
Kisses the ends of your fingers when he wants to show affection but doesn't know how
Flicks your forehead whenever he thinks you're being stupid or irritating 🙄
Lowkey blushes every time he sees you cheering for him in the stands I SEE THAT LITTLE SMILE, TSUKKI
Makes you sit on his lap all the time for no good reason other than to tease you bruh
Often ends up taking the teasing too far and winds up feeling rotten because you're now genuinely upset
Sucks at applogies, but will always try to set it right if he's at fault, even if it's awkward
Gives the biggest, warmest hugs when he wants to which isn't much, but hey. Take what you can get
Always sends you a text to make sure you've got home safe, but it's never in those words. It's always under the guise of something else Tsukki, pLEaSE
Grumbles to himself out of jealousy whenever you show attention to other guys, especially his brother
Deliberately gives you his sweaters and hoodies to wear after a shower because he thinks it's super cute, but acts like it's nothing you ain't slick, Tsukki 🤣
☆ Yamaguchi Tadashi ☆
Reaches for your hand first whenever you're together
Nose and forehead kisses when he sees you in the morning
Hand-picks a bunch of flowers for you every Monday because he knows you hate Mondays 🥺🤧
Waits for you at the gate after school every day
Always stands up for you, no matter what he may be soft, but he's not a WUSS 😠
Asks to borrow your other earphone whenever you're listening to something
Wants to spoon with you whenever he's feeling down and you'll never refuse
Always arrives 15 minutes early for every date despite changing his outfit several times out of nervousness
Blushes in pride whenever he lends you his jacket because you're cold adorbs
Sends you little pick-me-up messages when you're busy so you can read them when you're free
Helps you tie up your hair for gym class, and is surprisingly good at making pretty hairstyles
Traces his fingers over your palms and other body parts whenever you're curled up together
Has your name saved on every social media and contact list as something cute like 'My Sunshine 💛' or 'My Honeybee 🐝'
Twiddles his hair around his finger a lot, especially when he's daydreaming about you let's hope he doesn't start balding 😭
Will rush to your class with an umbrella on rainy days in case you forgot one
Loves sitting on the swings with you whenever you pass them on the way home, and making you giggle by pushing you higher and higher
(Bonus boys)
☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆
Sends a stream of soppy hype-texts every morning for you to wake up to
Will stop by your house and pick you up for school, even if you live literal miles away from him he just wants to see you
Grabs you by the waist and picks you up at least once a day, often in front of a crowd of people he's a fan of PDA
Peppers you with kisses when he sees you for the first time each day
Hypes you up to no end. Literally cannot sing your praises enough
Is constantly looking for compliments, and is not-so subtle about it
Gets easily depressed when you don't notice he did something differently etc.
Will kiss you in front of everyone when he wins a game and you come down to congratulate him literally doesn't care. He's too proud of you
Is constantly asking for massages, whether or not he needs them, because he enjoys the contact
Sometimes you want to staple his mouth shut because he has a habit of getting too excited and talking with his mouth full 🙃
Doesn't stop texting you and sending you Snapchats
Is kind of oblivious if he's done something that upset you, and starts freaking out when someone Akaashi finally tells him
Doesn't plan or rehearse his apologies, because he literally just says exactly what he means 100% of the time
May start choking up and crying if what he did was bad enough, because he just feels so, so guilty
Constantly reminds you when you said you would make him a lunchbox because he loves it so much and wants to boast to his friends
Likes you sitting on his lap while you do stuff together I mean...👀
Calls you 'puppy' and 'kitten' etc. unabashedly in public boi, pLEASE
Insists on giving you piggyback rides whenever your feet hurt 🐷
Saves every single selfie you send him. He treasures every single one, and tears sometimes come to his eyes when he scrolls through them he's so whipped for you, my gal
☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆
Stays up all night texting you he might be getting bags
But it's fine. It just adds to the emo look
Takes your bag and carries it for you without you asking him to
Facetimes you randomly
When you ask what it's about, he says he just missed you/wanted to see your face smooth mf
His hand always finds its way around your waist whenever you're walking together
He scrolls through your old conversations when he misses you
Will ruffle your hair to tease you just so he can spend the next 20 minutes brushing it for you
Steals food from your lunch every day he's lucky he's pretty
Stands outside your house with a boombox blasting love ballads like a giant nerd when he wants to surprise you just imagine it for a second. Let the image sink in
Ends up stroking your hair when you're cuddling together
And subconsciously cradles your stomach a lot because he really wants to start a family with you Testu!!! 🥺😭🤧
Always sends you 'Send This To Your Crush Without Context' videos, despite the fact that you guys have literally been dating for years no caption or anything, either. Just the video
Will probably continue to do it even once you're married, tbh
Always, always, always walks you home
© imo-chan-imagines 2020
#imo chan imagines#haikyuuweek2020#haikyuu!!#hq!#fluff#headcanons#haikyuu headcanons#kageyama tobio#hinata shoyou#tsukishima kei#yamaguchi tadashi#bokuto koutarou#kuroo testurou#haikyuu x reader#kageyama tobio headcanons#kageyama tobio x reader#hinata shouyou headcanons#hinata shouyou x reader#tsukishima kei headcanons#tsukishima kei x reader#yamaguchi tadashi headcanons#yamaguchi tadashi x reader#bokuto koutarou headcanons#bokuto koutarou x reader#kuroo testurou headcanons#kuroo testurou x reader#haikyuu fluff
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Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15
Hey to anyone reading!
And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.
The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)
-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-
1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)
-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-
I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart.
2. Alexander McQueen
-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-
Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.
3. Brock Collection
-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-
Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.
4. Marc Jacobs
-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-
If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out.
5. Miu Miu
-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-
We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway.
6. Vera Wang
-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-
Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.
7. Burberry
-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-
Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.
8. Etro
-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-
Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.
9. Dolce & Gabbana
-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-
D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.
10. Gucci
-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-
Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!
The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.
Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!
Lauren x
#front row#frontrow#fashion#fashioninpo#fashion inspo#style#style inspo#designer#gucci#vera wang#burberry#label#miu miu#runway#fashion week#mood board#ysl#saint laurent#runway trends#ss21#lookbook#vintage#outfit#marc jacobs#Alexander mcqueen#runway fashion#high fashion#haute couture#trend#collage
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Strangers ch. 45
Your fun night with BTS is interrupted by some familiar faces.
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Actress!Reader
Word count: 2.8k
Genre: fluff, angst, idk
Warnings: Strong language, bit o’ trauma
|mlist|
<–– Prev Next ––>
You knock at the door, your heart hammering in your chest. You were extra careful getting here – the paparazzi can’t know you’re still going back to the group’s apartment after the ‘breakup.’
Hoseok opens the door and lets you in, his usually wide grin somewhat muted. “Y/n-ie! We’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too, Hos-oof!” You half-laugh, half-wheeze when Jungkook comes barreling out of nowhere and crushes you in a bear hug. “Hey, Kookie!”
“Guys!” Jungkook calls elatedly, his long bangs falling in his eyes. “Y/n’s here!”
Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jimin join you in the hallway. Looking around, you notice someone’s missing.
“Where’s…” You blink, snapping your mouth shut. You won’t ask. You don’t care.
“Seokjin hyung is in the kitchen,” Jimin supplies helpfully.
“Ah, okay.” You check the time– 8:30. “Is dinner ready? Can I help?”
There’s a chorus of protests, with the boys insisting you settle in the living room. You’re about to race for Yoongi’s favorite chair, but – argh. Why would you, when he’s not there for you to annoy?
“I’m sorry. You don’t understand. I can’t.”
You snort. Hasn’t he always asked you to be honest? Hypocrite.
“Y/n-ie?” Hoseok sits next to you on the couch, speaking quietly enough that the others can’t hear him. “Do you want to take your coat off?”
“No, I’m–” cold. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“Look, Y/n…” Hoseok reaches out and places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry about Yoongi hyung.”
You muster up a smile. “It’s fine, dude. Like I said, it wasn’t real.”
“Nah, just because you weren’t really dating doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. I don’t know exactly who this new girl of his is – seriously, all of us woke up surprised, including PD-nim. But something’s up with hyung. He never comes out of his studio anymore and doesn’t say anything during rehearsals.”
You stay silent. You don’t want to talk about Yoongi.
“Anyways, I was wondering if you were okay? With… you know.” Hoseok gestures down at your left leg, and you flinch automatically.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hyung told me about that night you got hurt by some sasaeng.” Hobi looks deep into your eyes, his brows knit together. “We all care about you, Y/n. You got hurt because of us, and that’s not okay. I know Yoongi hurt you too, but I hope you remember the rest of us are still your friends. And we’re all here if you need us.”
You smile, knowing it won’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Hobi.”
Hoseok nods seriously before scooting back. “By the way, is that what you’re wearing?”
You look down at your jeans and sweater. “Yeah…?”
“Girl, didn’t I tell you we were going out tonight? Taehyung!”
Tae pops out from the kitchen. “Wassup?”
Hoseok waves at you and your outfit. “Fix our girl, please.”
Taehyung’s eyes alight. “Ooh, yes.”
“I- what- but I’m cold!” You protest as Taehyung drags you down the hall.
“We can accommodate that. Come on, Y/n, it’s been ages since I’ve styled anyone!”
But what if I get cold? Seoyeon could hurt me. Lisa could disappear. Next time it could be my head, not my leg. I could die. I can’t be cold. I can’t. I can’t.
“Y/n-ie?” You snap to attention, realizing Taehyung is staring at you with concern etched in his pretty eyes.
“I– yeah, sorry. Go ahead.”
Taehyung leads you into his and Namjoon’s room. You realize with a start you’ve never seen it. The walls are covered in posters, photos, and scribbled notes. Unsurprisingly, Taehyung’s closet is gigantic, and you see him rummage through it with intense focus.
“Okay, so. You’re cold all the time. No dresses, then? No shorts or skirts?”
You shiver, remembering the outfits you wore for the commercial with Wonho and for the lipstick photoshoot. “No, thanks.”
“Hm… We could try…” You hear Taehyung’s voice change. “It would be good publicity… I’d have to ask producer-nim.”
“What?”
“Ah,” Tae withdraws from the closet, his cheeks blooming red. “Well… the public isn’t supposed to know yet. But I’m, er…” He scratches his head sheepishly. “I’m releasing a fashion line. We created a lot of demo outfits to pitch investors. And there’s something I want you to wear.”
You muffle a laugh. “Tae! Really? That’s so cool!” For a moment, your worries are numbed in support of your friend. “Let me see!”
“I don’t know if it’ll fit you, but…” Taehyung pulls out a box printed with KTH in cursive font. “And, for some heat…” he hands you a cropped black fur coat. “Try them on.”
You take a deep breath as you walk into the hall bathroom, nervous to peel off your layers of warmth. You open the box, and- “Woah.”
As you reach to try on the outfit, your phone buzzes.
Wonho: Hey, the commercial aired! Was wondering if u wanted to do smth to celebrate? Hope you’re doing ok. W.
You quickly text back saying you have plans with friends and place your phone facedown on the counter.
Ten minutes later, you can’t help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You feel… “Y/n?” Taehyung knocks at the door, his voice nervous. “Does it fit?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“Come out, let me see! I want-”
You unlock the door and step into the hall. Taehyung stops mid sentence, his jaw falling slack. “Holy… I don’t care what PD-nim says, you’re wearing this to the club tonight! Guys!” He pulls you into the living room. “Check her out!”
The other five members file in, Jin pulling off an apron. When he catches sight of you, he laughs in surprise. “Our Y/n-ie, all grown up!”
And you look grown up – Taehyung has dressed you in a black leather bodysuit to go perfectly with your black boots. It’s tight, but not suffocating, and most importantly, it’s warm. The long sleeves and legs feel protective. The only skin you’re showing is the adventurously deep neckline. The fur coat goes perfectly with the outfit, and you feel yourself standing up straighter as the guys express their admiration.
“Shut up,” you smile as Hoseok pretends to faint. “It’s Tae’s handiwork.”
“You look gorgeous, Y/n darling,” Jin hums. “Now, if the rest of you could start drooling over the soup instead of Y/n, that would be great.”
~~~
“D, remember how you said these fangirls have like, backup accounts? Shit under a different name?”
“Yeah, why?”
Yoongi chews on his fingernail. It’s a habit his managers always scolded him for when he was still a trainee. “What about Lisa? Does she have any?”
D clicks his tongue. It’s the first time Yoongi’s seen him in person for years, but he couldn’t be at the apartment knowing that Y/n would be there with the others. “Shit, man, maybe. I’ll find out.”
“Thanks.”
“Yo, did you see that commercial with your girl?”
Yoongi rubs his temples. Thinking about Y/n hurts. “No. What?”
“Nah, I’m asking cause she looks fire. She’s all over this guy. What are they even selling, right?” D slides over his laptop, Fierce’s new commercial already pulled up. It shows Yoongi’s old friend Wonho, shirtless, muscles bulging. When it cuts to a new scene, Yoongi nearly chokes. It’s Y/n as he’s never seen her; terrifyingly perfect and irresistibly seductive. He can’t tear his eyes away as she strides past Wonho. In the commercial, Wonho lifts the bottle of cologne and raises his eyebrows at Y/n, who stops with interest.
The next scene leaves something hot burning in Yoongi’s chest: Y/n sits on Wonho’s lap, pressed against his shirtless chest, and the camera zooms in on her mouth as she leans in to brush her red lips against Wonho’s cheek. Almost unconsciously, Yoongi clenches his fist, nails digging into his palm. It’s just a commercial, just a job. He wonders if guys like Wonho are Y/n’s type. Not like it matters anymore, Yoongi thinks. Fucking Lisa. Fucking Seoyeon. “Fuck!”
D jumps. “Gloss! What was that?”
“I forgot – Seoyeon. I’m late.”
“Who cares, man? She’s insane.”
“I care. She wants to go to a club, maybe she’ll tell me where Lisa is if her guard is down. Or give me the names of anyone else she’s working with.”
“Ooh, sneaky. Okay, I’ll be online all night if you wanna text. Let me know if you find out anything.”
“I will,” Yoongi replies, throwing on his suit jacket. “And D, keep an eye on my location. She’s dangerous. I’ll keep a bodyguard with me, but just in case…”
“I gotchu, man.
Yoongi takes a deep breath. His driver is waiting outside. Y/n is having dinner with the guys. And the image of her draped over Wonho is seared into his memory.
Back into the fray.
~~~
“I’m surprised we’re not driving in a van or something,” You say, peering around the limousine’s interior in awe.
“Some perks of being celebrities,” Namjoon says with a grin. The guys all look amazing, decked out in dressy but effortless outfits. Back in your ARMY days, you would have been swooning. Even now, their good looks are a welcome distraction.
“It’s been so long since we’ve gone out,” Jimin bounces excitedly. He’s wearing a purple silk shirt that flutters with the movement. “Since Yoongi-hyung started filming and doing his new mixtape, and with Tae-ssi’s clothing line, our schedule has been lenient.”
“Speaking of schedules…” Jungkook turns to you. “I heard yours is gonna be busier lately! You’ve signed with FYP, right?”
You smile, shoving down your guilt. You need to move on. “Yep, they said they’d email me the contract today.” Now that you think about it, it’s past ten. When are they going to send it to you? You’re sure you haven’t received any work-related emails since coming out of your meeting with Mr. Park.
“Ah, almost there!” Hoseok hands out glasses from a minibar. “Soju bombs, everyone!”
You swallow determinedly. You’re moving past Lisa; Yoongi can’t hurt you anymore; Seoyeon… well, she may have won. But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost.
You’re going clubbing with BTS, wearing an outfit designed by Kim Taehyung. Nothing can go wrong tonight. “Cheers!”
And together with the members, you gulp down your drink as the limo slows to a stop in front of Club Xyon.
Immediately, you’re ushered by stoic men and women in black suits to the front of a line of people who look more famous than you can ever imagine. “Oh my gosh,” you hiss to Hoseok, “I think I recognize her from that movie! And why are we skipping the line?”
Hoseok laughs. “Y/n, I know to you we’re just friends, but to everyone else, we are global superstars.”
You swallow. Right. In a place like this… “Should I be seen with you guys?”
“C’mon, we pay good money for security to keep paparazzi away from this place. You’re safe.”
The seven of you file in: music is blaring, people are dancing, and you’re absolutely starstruck. You’re quickly led to a private room stocked with alcohol. Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok stay on their feet while Seokjin and Namjoon rush for the liquor. Taehyung sprawls on the luxurious couch.
“We’re gonna go dancing. Y/n, wanna come?”
You nod, blinking through the sensory overload. So much is going on, so much to think about.
“Wait, wait.” Namjoon pours you a shot. “To Y/n, well and truly on her way to stardom!”
You laugh, accepting the shot. Thank goodness for your friends, thank goodness you didn’t lose them as well as Yoongi. The liquor burns your throat, and you relish in the feeling.
“Come on, Y/n-ie!” Hoseok tugs on your hand. You toss your coat onto the couch next to Taehyung and follow the dancers out, listening to their excited chatter. The dance floor is big, and multicolored lights flash everywhere. You swear you’ve seen the DJ featured in some magazine. Every person in Club Xyon is almost inhumanely beautiful, and you suddenly feel a nervous shiver making its way down your back. Almost as if they can sense it, the three men flank you.
“Hey, you belong here as much as anyone, okay?” Hoseok whispers.
You look down at the bodysuit, and think of how much power you felt when you tried it on. “Yeah. Let’s dance.”
Jungkook whoops, and Jimin bounces on his heels. Hoseok merely winks and leads you into the mass of flawless bodies; so many of them have clearly been trained in dance, moving with such fluidity that you do endless double takes.
“Exactly what you need, I think,” Hoseok murmurs into your ear as you begin to move to the music.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shoot back playfully.
Jimin and Jungkook appear to be having a dance battle. Their fame and the intensity of their movement has created a hubbub among the stars present, and they form a circle around the two. The crowd’s movement jostles you, and you lose track of Hoseok.
“Hobi! Hob- ah, sorry!” You say quickly, having bumped into someone as you’re pushed to the edge of the dance floor. “My b- wait, Wonho?”
Wonho grins. “I thought it was you! Funny, I texted earlier because I wanted to invite you here. Who beat me to it?”
“I’m here with BTS,” you reply. Then, seeing Wonho’s confusion, you correct yourself. “Some of the members of BTS. As friends.”
“I see. I’m sorry about Yoongi, I didn’t know he had it in him to act like that.”
You clench your jaw. You don’t know the half of it. “It’s in the past.”
“Well, if you don’t have plans for the next song, want to dance?”
“Sure.” Wonho is cute, and he was kind to you when you worked together. The black mesh shirt he’s wearing certainly helps.
“Did you see the commercial?” He yells over the heavy bass as you dance. Over his shoulder, you see Taehyung talking to the DJ.
“No, I’ve been busy,” You shout in reply.
“My agent sent it to me. It turned out well – you looked great!”
Your cheeks flush. Wonho is one of those men who just looks physically perfect, and muscles like his don’t usually come with such a thoughtful demeanor. To receive praise from someone like him gives your ego a boost. “Thanks, I’m sure you did too.”
The song ends, but you still find yourself full of adrenaline. Wonho is an amazing dancer, and you’re finally beginning to relax.
“I’m gonna get a drink, want anything?” Wonho shouts as another song comes on. With their popularity, you’re surprised you haven’t heard any BTS songs yet.
“I’ll come with you.” You do want something to drink, but you know better than to let someone you barely know bring you something. Wonho nods and leads you to the sleek bar, staffed by skilled mixologists – they add bottle tricks to every order.
“Whiskey, please,” Wonho says when a mixologist turns to him. “And whatever she wants.”
You raise a brow. “You don’t have to pay.”
“C’mon, let me be nice!”
You laugh. “Fine. A raspberry cosmopolitan.” You keep your eye on the mixologist as they make your drink. “Thanks, Wonho.”
“Hey, I’m just glad I got to run into you. You were definitely one of the more human actresses I’ve worked with.”
“How so?”
Wonho shrugs. “You guys pretend to be other people for a living. It’s nice to meet someone who feels so genuine.”
You nearly choke on the drink the mixologist has just handed to you. “Oh my god,” you say, shaking with laughter. “That’s… thanks, man.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nah, just – first time in a while I’ve been called genuine.” It’s a nice change.
“I can’t believe that. You seem really cool, Y/n–?” You’re taking a long draw of your drink, so all you hear is his voice suddenly changing your name into a question. When you lower your glass, you see him staring in surprise behind you. “What are you doing here?”
“The same thing as you, Lee.” His voice is hard and cool, so uncharacteristic that it takes you a sentence to register. When you do, you swing around, almost unconsciously backing closer to Wonho. “Y-Yoongi?”
“Oh my gosh, look who it is!” Your blood suddenly turns to ice and you grip Wonho’s sleeve like a lifeline. No. No. No.
“Y/n, sweetie!” Kang Seoyeon says, blood-red lipstick matching her hair. Her hand rests lightly on Yoongi’s shoulder. “It’s been so long!”
#bts#bts au#bangtan#suga#yoongi#min yoongi#bts suga#bts yoongi#fluff#bts fluff#bts angst#bts drabble#bts series#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi drabble#yoongi au#idol!au#actress!au#yoongi x reader#idolverse#idol!yoongi x reader#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfiction#bts fic#yoongi fic#suga fic#angst#suga au#friends to lovers
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request: Ok this is something that’s been on my mind for a couple of days now, and it’s SUPER CHEESY but plz bear with me haha. I’ve been watching a lot of ANTM and it inspired me to think about an au where Bakugo is a pro-hero and Y/N is a upcoming top model visiting Japan to walk and display a new line of lingerie based off of Pro-Hero’s costumes (kinda like for a Victoria’s Secret fashion show) She’s chosen to wear the Ground Zero lingerie and she gets permission to shadow Bakugo for a day or two to get a read on his personality so she can base her walk off of him. Thing is, off the catwalk, Y/N’s personality is free-spirited, laidback and even a little shy, so when Bakugo meets her he’s like “why the fuck would they choose an extra like her to be me?” but little does he know on the catwalk her personality does a complete 180 and is outrageously fierce and confident. Pro-hero’s got a free invitation to the fashion show so with some convincing from his friends (and maybe because he was curious to see how the hell she was going to pull this off) he goes to the show and his reaction to when she steps on the catwalk… Lol I want to leave it up to you. Wow that was wayyy longer then I expected it to be. I’m sorry to spam you like that 😂 I feel like ppl are either going to love or hate this idea so if you don’t want to write it I honestly don’t blame you haha. Either way I love your posts! You’re writing style is very fun to read!
a/n: hellooo! hope you’re doing well! sorry for the late update, but i hope that this is an alright imagine!
warnings: description of lingerie(??)
masterlist
You were exhausted. The airport had always been a stressful place, but now you were jetlagged aswell. Flying to Japan wasn’t an easy task, but it was worth it. You carefully pushed the sunglasses you were wearing up the bridge of your nose. It was a weak disguise, but you really couldn’t care less.
“The car’s waiting outside. Let’s hurry up.”, your manager spoke fast. You grabbed your bag and followed after her. The paparazzi were flooding the exit, luckily they had put up fences. This was one of the reasons you had to look atleast a little bit dressed up on airports. Which was the most uncomfortable thing ever, but you just had to live with it. By “dressed up” they usually just meant “don’t wear sweatpants”. So you could still wear your comfy pair of jeans and a nice sweater or something of the sort.
“How do you feel after travelling so much? From New York, to London, to Paris and now here in Tokyo. How do you cope?” The same questions were popping up everywhere, but you didn’t stop for any of them. The only time you did stop was when you saw a few fans getting strangled against the fence. You hurried towards them, got their things signed and made sure they got back to safety.
“Let’s go, Y/N.”, your manager warned.
“Coming!”, you sighed and kept walking.
The next day you were driven to the place where you’d be messured for the lingerie.
“Y/N? Over here, honey!”, the designer said. He got you into a chair as soon as you arrived.
“What do you have for me today, Ray?”, you smiled kindly.
“So, heroes are a big thing. So we’ve made a line of hero-inspired lingerie, we think it’ll be a hit.”, he said with a big grin and showed you the sketches, “We’ll get them ready as soon as possible, but we need to match the right hero to the right model.”
“Alright, I trust your judgement.”, you looked through the sketches, “Give it to me, Ray.”
“Okay, okay. Since you’re the most charesmatic of the girls, we want you take care of the hothead.”, he pointed at one of the sketches, “Ground Zero.” You looked at the sketch. The top was some sort of dulled down orange color, in a lacy material. That wasn’t that bad, it was the usual, but there was a leather harness on top of it... a leather harness that connected to a leather choker. The bottoms were high-waisted and in the same lace material but black. But that wasn’t it. There was a pair of leather, knee-high, boots along with it.
“It’s... extreme.”, you sighed, “But, sure... I’ll do it.”
“Oh, thank you, Y/N. You’re a life saver, no model in Japan wanted to take the roll.”, he chuckled, “Here I’ll show you what we thought we should do for the face.” He showed you a face with cat-eye eyeliner, a simple nude lip and some sort of explosion looking thing behind the ears. You guessed that was a part of Ground Zero’s hero costume.
“Looks great, Ray.”, you smiled.
“Go get yourself meassured, your manager is booking you a meeting with Ground Zero so that you can study his personality.”, he said calmly and started to walk away.
How had you gotten yourself in this mess? To be honest, you didn’t know anymore. Everything happened so fast and now suddenly you were in the lobby of a hero agency, waiting for Ground Zero to go on his lunch break.
“Y/N Y/L/N?”, a rough voice asked behind you. You turned around to see a pair of crimson eyes staring into your soul. His hair was messy and he was just wearing jeans, a hoodie and a leather jacket. You didn’t know why you thought he’d show up in his hero costume.
“I’m guessing you’re Ground Zero?”, you stretched out your hand.
“You can say Bakugo.”, he scoffed and ignored your stretched out hand. He instead put his hands in his pockets.
“Are you ready to go?”, you asked.
“Why else would I be here?”, he sighed and walked to the exit. This was gonna be an exhausting week.
Bakugo walked as if he had just proven a point, or like he had just won an argument. To say the least, there was only pure confidence flooding in his veins. You hated it, but you simply had to see this as a job. You weren’t in your body, you were only watching from the audience.
“Are you just gonna sit there looking at me? You’re not gonna talk?”, he quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Fine then... um... what kind of music do you listen to?”, you asked innocently.
“Music?”, he bursted out into laughter, “That’s it? You really are just another extra!”
“Listen, man, you’re the one who wanted to talk. So talk.”, you kept your calm, you didn’t want to make a scene out in public.
“Eh- this place sucks, let’s go to my apartment. We can talk there.”, he shrugged and walked faster.
“Your apartment?”, you squeaked.
You were just supposed to follow him around for a while every day, but now you were in his apartment. This was only the first day! His apartment was nice though... it kind of had an oldschool aesthetic to it. Like he came straight out of a private school in England during the 1980′s.
“You asked what kind of music I’m into or something?”, he sighed and walked over to a record player after taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. You stopped for a second. Didn’t he just make fun of you for asking that? You watched as he flipped through a few records.
“Yeah, I did.”, you answered cautiosly and hung up your coat next to his jacket.
He effortlessly handled one of the vinyls and quickly put it on the record player... it started playing and-... was that The Beatles? Bakugo sat down on his couch as if it wasn’t extremely shocking for him to listen to this.
“You listen to The Beatles?”, you asked as Paul McCartney started signing the first verse of Yesterday.
“Who doesn’t?”, he sighed, “C’mon, sit down.” You sat down in one of the armchair’s and finished listening to the song.
“You don’t seem like you listen to this kind of music.”, you commented as the next song started playing.
“I don’t only listen to this, idiot.”, he snarked, “This was the first thing I found.”
“Whatever you say.”
A few days went by and you’d go through the same schedule. Wait for Bakugo to go out for his lunchbreak, walk around for a bit, go to his apartment and go home when he had to start his next shift. He started making you lunch, and he was a surprisingly good cook.
For the last day he stopped you before you parted ways.
“Wait-... can I meet you at your hotel later tonight?”, he actually looked a little bit nervous for once.
“I mean, yeah... but why?”, you gave him an unsure smile.
“I’ll take you out for food, something spicy... unless you can’t handle that.”, he grinned, his confidence was suddenly back.
“You wanna bet?”, your laughed.
“Alright then, it’s a bet.”, he chuckled, “I’ll meet you around 7 in the lobby.”
“For sure. I’ll see you!”, you waved goodbye and so did he.
Just when you were about to sneak out to the lobby your manager walked past.
“Where are you going?”, she asked.
“I was just uh...”
“And why’s Ground Zero in the lobby? He’s starting a commotion! We don’t need that, we need you to rest for the show tomorrow!”, she sighed.
“Please, I just wanted to-”
“No, Y/N. You can’t go out tonight, you have a damn show tomorrow.”
“Well, please just tell Bak- I mean... Ground Zero that I can’t come... and that I’m sorry.”, you pleaded, “Please.”
“Fine...”, she agreed.
The next day you woke up early to go to the fitting, so that you could later that day go to the show. Since they had your measurments, it fit perfectly.
“Hey, Laura!”, you stopped your manager as she passed by your make up station.
“Yeah, what’s up? Need anything?”, she asked.
“No-... I was just wondering if you know if Ground Zero would be here tonight.”, you asked.
“I don’t know, honey.”, she sighed, “He hasn’t said anything about it.”
“Alright, thank you.”
You got a moment alone in your changing room before you were going backstage. There was a harch knock on the door, which prompted you to go over to it and open the door.
“Is it time to come out n-”, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Bakugo in front of you.
“Hey.”, he said quietly.
“Hi.”, you responded, “How did you get back here?”
“It’s not that hard for a hero of my status.”, he grinned and puffed up his chest a bit.
“Okay, okay...”, you chuckled and wrapped the silk robe you had on tighter around you, “Well, I’m happy you made it.”
“Y/N! Showtime!”, you heard your manager shout.
“Coming!”, you answered.
“Good luck... on the show...”, he muttered.
“Thank you! I expect to see you in the crowd.”, you grinned and ran up to the backstage area.
-
Maybe he should’ve tried to see what she was wearing. He really hadn’t thought about it at all...
The show was in alphabetic order, so he’d have to sit there for a bit before she’d come out. He really didn’t care much for the other models and he might’ve fell asleep for a few minutes here and there... but that was the chair’s fault! It was too comfortable, it even had armrests! How could he not fall asleep? Just for a bit...
“Ground Zero!”, they shouted, making him almost jump out of his seat. Eijiro, who sat beside him, let out a quiet chuckle.
“Shut up, man...”, he whispered before glueing his eyes to the runway. He didn’t even recognize her at first. Y/N was... different... and it wasn’t just the clothing... or more like the lack there of.
Her whole aura was different when she walked she was like a whole new person. She was fierce, confident, simply the embodiment of a goddess of war and destruction. Katsuki’s eyes were glued to her, every curve and edge, and his mouth was slightly agape in shock. He didn’t even realize that people were taking pictures of him.
After the show Katsuki made his way backstage, where he met up with Y/N who was now wrapped up in her silk robe again.
“What did you think? Did you like it?”, she grinned.
“I-...”, he looked around at the people around him who were all watching, “It was alright.”
“Alright?”, you laughed, “Okay then, you diva, I’m gonna go get changed!” His gaze followed her form as she walked away from him to her changing room... until he noticed that people were staring at him.
“Oi! What are you looking at!?”
-
The next day you were already at the airport early in the morning, which was way to early since the plane didn’t leave for another hour. So you decided to look at the articles about last night.
You scrolled quickly through most of them until you saw a picture of a familiar face. It was Bakugo! Looking absolutely star struck as your figure strutted down the runway. A smile spread across your lips and you took a screenshot of the photo.
“Hey, do we have Ground Zero’s buisness email or something like that?”, you asked your manager.
“I can get it for you. Why do you need it?”, she quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Oh, I just wanted to thank him.”, you smiled sweetly, “Also, do you know the next time I’ll be working in Japan?”
“In a few months or so.”
“Perfect.” You couldn’t wait.
-
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#katsuki#bakugou katsuki#Katsuki Bakugō#katsuki x reader#bakugo#bnha bakugou#bakugo x reader#Ground Zero#bnha#bnha fanfiction#bnha x reader#mha#mha imagines#mha x reader#boku no hero fanfic#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero headcanons#boku no hero x reader#my hero academia#my hero academy fanfiction
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c-can you write a haechan smut where he tortues y/n in public or something like that? btw i LOVED your mark ff it's one of my favorites i read so far and let me tell you i read a LOT. love you work!!
“Haechan, this doesn’t seem like a good idea,” you whined. Your boyfriend was excitedly lacing up his shoes as you stood by the front door waiting. You had a lot of things to do now that the weekend had finally rolled around and the last thing you needed was for Haechan to come up with any wild ideas but alas, here you were.
You wriggled around, feeling the cool metal of the vibrator he had asked you to wear, rub against your clit. The sensation alone was already causing knots to form in your stomach.
“Hey, we had a deal. Don’t tell me you’re too scared to go through with it...” he taunted. He was right. You guys had made a stupid bet earlier that week over the plotwist in a drama you had been watching together. Haechan barely seemed to pay attention to the sappy show but still somehow managed to predict the season finale. You weren’t sure what pissed you off more, the fact that you had lost the bet or the fact that the ending of your favourite show was so much different than what you had hoped for.
You sighed deeply. Probably both. “Hurry up, I have a lot to do,” you groaned. Haechan smiled up at you as he finished up with his shoes before standing up again and planting a kiss on your forehead.
“This is going to be so much fun,” he sang. “Yeah, for you maybe!” you grumbled as the two of you stepped out of the door into the hallway of your apartment. As expected, Haechan couldn’t wait to get started. He had both arms shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket as you entered the empty elevator and the second the doors closed you stumbled back against the wall as you felt the vibrator spring to life, buzzing silently against your clit. You let out breathy moans, trying your best to act normal because of the camera that was placed in the corner, directly across from you.
Haechans eyes twinkled with excitement as he smiled at you from the other side of the elevator. You met his gaze with an angry yet equally sultry look. “H-haechan, could you seriously not wait until we got out of here?” you snapped at him, trying your hardest to hold back your moans.
You let out a loud gasp as you felt the intensity of the vibrations increase — forcing you to hold on to the wall as you clenched your legs together. “Baby, you should really watch your tone when you speak to me,” he warned as his eyes narrowed at you. You were whining softly in the corner as you dropped your head down away from the view of the camera and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to find the strength to power through the stimulation. You finally reached the ground floor and before the doors could slide open, the buzzing stopped.
You were still gasping softly for air when you felt Haechan rope his fingers between yours, before stepping out of the elevator into the lobby and waving to the concierge on your way out, as if nothing had happened at all. All you could do was hold onto his hand and lean into his arm, trying your best not to lose your footing as you kept up with him, already feeling weak. This is going to be a long day, you thought to yourself. And you were right.
The entire duration of the car ride consisted of you leaning back in the front seat, moaning over the sound of the radio. Thank God you had tinted windows because there was no way other drivers wouldn’t have noticed you writhing around in ecstasy. “Haechannnn,” you whined as you pulled into a parking space outside of the grocery store. Your boyfriend had the most mischievous look on his face as he clicked away at the settings on the mini remote control that he had in his hand. He drew your face towards his. You couldn’t help it. As frustrated as you were, you were turned on beyond belief.
You dove into the kiss, moaning into his mouth as you slipped your tongue right past his lips. You were devouring his face and began to groan as he slowly started pulling away. “Holy shit, y/n... slow down,” he laughed. You had lifted yourself up off your seat and were halfway into haechan’s as you tried to bridge the gap between your bodies. The vibrator still buzzed at your core, and you couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m going to c-cum,” you stuttered in the passenger seat. You turned to Haechan hoping for some sort of empathy but he didn’t even reach out to kiss you or touch you again. Instead he sat back, watching you. “Alright, come for me, right...” he bagan as he fumbled around with the remote before turning it up onto the highest setting, “...now.”
You let out a sound that was a mixture between a moan and a scream as your orgasm hit you. Your hands gripped at your crotch over your jeans as you squeezed yourself through the fabric, clenching your legs. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you swore as you felt the wetness seep out of you as Haechan watched. His mouth hung slightly open and you could see the growing erection in his pants as he reached out and palmed himself gently, watching over you as your body shook next to him. He was enjoying the show far too much. Tears started to pool in your eyes as you pleaded with him to turn off the device, and he finally did... clicking the off button as you collapsed back against the seat, drawing in heavy breaths as your eyes fell shut.
You felt Haechan sprinkle soft kisses on your head as he whispered. “Good girl... you lasted so long,” he cooed as he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open to find him hovering dangerously close. “Keep it up and I promise that once we get home I will fuck you so well that you won’t even be able to walk afterwards,” he seethed as he squeezed himself through his jeans. You whimpered at his words as your legs clenched again.
Haechans expression changed almost immediately, catching you off guard and scaring you a bit. “Okay, lets go in. We ran out of eggs by the way so let’s get those first before we forget,” he said casually as he opened up the door and hopped out of the car.
You sat in the passenger seat staring out the window after him with wide eyes, completely in disbelief at the change in his demeanor before clambering out after him. How the fuck was he acting so normal?
The shopping trip was short and sweet. It seemed the both of you were growing impatient after Haechans little comment and were eager to head back home. Haechan was a bit more generous this time. There were lots of people around the store so he refrained from torturing you too much — but of course he didn’t stop completely.
Whenever the two of you would end up in a more deserted aisle in a less populated area of the store he would switch on the vibrator again watching as you gripped the shopping cart tightly between your hands, whimpering quietly. You were so glad you had worn a longer cardigan and dark pants because you were almost certain that you had soaked yourself at this point. You stood in an isle as you looked for new cutlery to purchase when you felt the familiar buzzing return. Haechan stood directly behind you this time, wrapping his arms around you and dropping his head down to whisper in your ear as you let out soft moans.
“You look so sexy right now,” he cooed. Your cheeks had been permanently stained a soft pink colour since you had entered the store because of your arousal. Your lips were also plump and bruised red from all the biting you had done to hold in your moans. Haechan dropped kisses down your neck. “I want you to cum for me again right here,” he ordered. You shifted your gaze to either end of the aisle to make sure no one was around. If anyone did pass by, the two of you would look like any other young couple romantically shopping. “H-haechan—“ you began to protest before you felt the buzzing increase once more to its maximum setting
“Oh... OH” you gasped as your body fell backwards into your boyfriends arms as another orgasm rolled through you. You could do nothing but clench your legs and let out deep breaths in order to refrain from causing a scene. This time you could really feel the wetness pooling between your legs as you regained your composure and tugged at your sweater, hoping it was covering you up enough.
Haechan stood back and giggled a bit as he watched you frantically attempt to compose yourself before you continued to push the shopping cart towards the front of the store in a huff. Haechan drew you into his side and planted a kiss on your cheek before whispering “sorry, couldn’t help it. Let’s get out of here though, I need to be inside of you as soon as possible.”
You had cashed out in record time and decided to abandon all the other errands you planned for the day. Haechan’s little game had completely thrown you off of your routine. Even though you had already cum two times already, you didn’t feel like you could function properly until you had every inch of your boyfriend buried inside of you. The thought alone was driving you insane as you rushed out of the car with a bag of groceries in hand. You greeted the concierge once more as you waited for the elevator.
Once it arrived you both entered and once again you felt the vibrator spring to life. You leaned back against the wall again as the doors began to slide shut, just as a hand interrupted its action — sending the doors opening up again. Haechan shot you a surprised look as someone entered the elevator with you. “Sorry!” they said. It was one of your neighbours, an older woman who lived a couple floors below you. You thought haechan would have stopped the device but you met his gaze once more as he shot you a wink and turned up the setting. You let out a soft whimper as your neighbour looked over at you concerned.
“Oh, is everything okay?” she asked as she watched a bead of sweat slide down the side of your forehead as you let out shallow breaths. You nodded, trying your best to hold it together. “Y-yeah, just not feeling too great,” you stammered.
You felt the vibrators intensity increase as you let out a full on groan. “Ah— gosh, I have a MASSIVE headache,” you lied as your neighbour went wide eyed once more. “You look like you’re burning up. You may have a fever. Make sure you take something right away!” she advised as the door dinged open on her floor. You couldn’t even respond, simply nodding your head.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her!” said haechan as the elevator shut once more, leaving only the two of you inside. You reached your floor a few seconds later, as the buzzing continued. Haechan had refused to turn the device off as you were in the final stretch.
The seocnd you had unlocked the door and entered the apartment you had dropped the bag of groceries and kicked off your shoes, dragging Haechan by his collar into the room in a rage.
“You asshole —“ you muttered as you weaved through the hall towards your bedroom. Haechan giggled as he trailed behind you. Once you had shut the door behind you, you had pulled your pants down, letting the vibrator fall to the floor, buzzing against the hardwood. Haechan had begun undressing himself too as you pushed him backwards onto the bed, climbing into his lap and immediately positioning him at your entrance.
You slipped his entire cock right into your dripping hole as you let out a sweet soft moan. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to ride you for hours,” you groaned as you rotated your hips in circles, as your clit dragged against his abdomen. Haechan dropped his head back as he allowed you to use him for your own pleasure. Your knees began to go weak as you felt your orgasm approaching. Haechan leaned up flipping you over to be on top as he spread your legs before burying himself into you again. He dropped kisses down your neck and suckled at the flesh as you lay there motionless in complete bliss, savouring the feeling of him slipping against your wells.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,” you whimpered in his ear. He drew your mouth in for a kiss as he pulled at one of your legs, forcing it up higher to rest around his waist as he pistoned his hips forward, slapping against your flesh and hitting the deepest parts of your core. You moaned into eachother’s mouths as you felt his hips jerk, releasing spurts of warmth into you. Your orgasm hit you just as you felt his cum begin to seep out of you and he continued to thrust himself against your body as you both rode out your high. He collapsed against you soon after, still remaining inside you as your insides contracted and you felt him begin to go soft — leaving only the sound of the buzzing vibrator on the floor and your deep breaths to fill the silence of your bedroom.
#nct#nct smut#nct au#nct dream fanfic#nct dream blurbs#nct blurbs#nct drabble#nct dream smut#00 line smut#00 line#nct 127 au#nct 127 smut#haechan smut#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#nct haechan#nct hard hours#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#nct donghyuck
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situation #22 sentence #24 steve harrington
Hi anon! I hope you enjoy some hella jealous Steve 😊
Warning: There’s a whole lot of swearing and Steve kind of beats himself up a little about not being as smart as Billy, but it all works out in the end!
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Steve was annoyed, and that annoyance was quickly working towards outright anger.
He couldn’t deny it anymore. He was jealous. Jealous of Billy Hargrove, no less. Robin was going to have a field day when she found out. Granted she had chalked it up to homoerotic tension or some shit, but Steve wasn’t gay, or bisexual, or whatever terms she threw his way.
As Steve was busy glaring a hole through the lunch table, mentally recounting all of the reasons he was jealous of Billy, the man himself walked over to his lunch table and sat down right across from Steve.
“Don’t think too hard Pretty Boy. Might hurt yourself,” Billy said with fake concern.
“Fuck off Hargrove,” Steve growled.
“Oh Pretty Boy! You wound me!” He tacked on a hand to his chest and swooned backwards as if he were a damsel in distress, which just led Steve to roll his eyes.
“Oh piss off. I’ll see you in English,” he snapped, quickly gathering his lunch and pushing off to go find somewhere else to sit. Before he could stand up though, Billy snatched his wrist and tugged until he was leaning over the table towards the blond.
“I don’t think you want to leave until you’ve heard my offer.” Billy whispered before letting go of Steve’s wrist to shoot back down and resume eating his lunch as if nothing had happened. Steve considered the boy in front of him for a minute, taking in the small, delicate gold hoop in his left ear and the ocean blue eyes he cou-girls could get lost in. Billy’s air of nonchalance had Steve’s interest peaked, so he slowly sank back into his seat.
“Alright Goldilocks,” Billy’s head shot up at the nickname, but Steve pressed on. “What’s your offer?”
“Well, Bambi, I couldn’t help but see your last test score in Mrs. Jager’s class and I thought I could be of assistance. I’m assuming you need to pass this last test?” He asked the question with a raised eyebrow and a growing smirk.
“You’re- You’re seriously offering to tutor me?” Steve wasn’t prepared for this.
“Yeah, Pretty Boy. That’s exactly what I’m offering.” Billy sat back and flashed Steve a smile that was all teeth, clearly expecting an answer.
Steve mulled it over. One of the top things on his Jealous of Billy Fucking Hargrove list, yes he had a list, was his brain. The guy was fucking brilliant. Never seemed to study, but always got A’s no matter the subject.
But he was also a certified asshole. This could be the perfect ammunition against Steve, the proof that he was stupid and nothing but a pretty head of hair and bullshit. Ever since his fall from King Steve, it seemed that most of the school’s population was out for his blood and this would be like opening up a buffet for public enemy number one.
Fuck it. What else did he have to lose?
“Sure. My house, 5 o’clock.” He shot out, before he could lose his nerve.
“Wow Pretty Boy, so excited to have me all to yourself?”
“You wish Hargrove.”
-
It was 4:45, and Steve was deeply regretting his decision. Why had he accepted this? He knew he had a D in Mrs. Jager’s class, and needed to pass to graduate, but was it worth letting Billy Hargrove in his house?
Rather than getting sucked into a cycle of negative thoughts, he readjusted the snack bowls he had laid out on the coffee table. A spread of pretzels, grapes, chocolates, and popcorn set in a line of tastiness. God he was turning into a suburban housewife. Before he could scrape the bowls though, there was a loud knock from the front door. Show time.
Billy was wearing the same clothes from school, a pair of dark wash jeans that fit his sculpted thighs perfectly, and an equally tight Metallica t-shirt partially obscured by his infamous leather jacket. Made Steve feel entirely underdressed in his sweatpants and oversized sweater, which was stupid because it wasn’t like this was a date or some shit. Steve wasn’t gay, he could just appreciate Billy’s aesthetic and dedication to working out. Right?
He led Billy into the living room, expecting at least some form of ridicule from the snack layout, but Billy merely set his bag down next to the couch and flopped onto it. He looked up at Steve from where he had sprawled out.
“Ready Pretty Boy? Or you need another minute to gawk?” The mocking didn’t hold the same venom as at school though. It seemed playful instead, as if being away from their peers softened Billy’s edges.
“Ready when you are Goldilocks.” He pushed Billy’s feet off the couch and took a seat where they had been, pulling out his math textbook as Billy did the same. Steve also pulled out a beat up notebook, but Billy made no move to do the same, just opened up his textbook to the pages due tomorrow.
“Aren’t you going to pull out your notes?”
“Don’t need them Baby. Got it all up here,” he said, pointing to his head. Steve felt jealousy begin to flare up again at the clear boast. How could he have no written notes, whereas Steve needed pages to barely understand the problems. He stamped it down though, deciding to focus instead on the problem at hand, or rather the problems.
By the two hour mark, Steve only had five problems to show for all his hard work. Billy had, of course, finished all twenty problems in the first thirty minutes and then spent the rest of the time helping Steve, but with every explanation he gave, Steve’s jealousy and impatience only grew until he finally blew up. They had been working on the same problem for twenty minutes when Steve shot up from his seat, bumping the coffee table and sending everything on it flying.
“I’m done. I’m over it. I’ll fucking fail, it’s fine!” Steve said, getting louder with every word until he was shouting.
“Pretty Boy, it’s fine. You’ve almo-”
“Don’t you fucking finish that sentence Hargrove. I don’t ‘almost got it’,” Steve mocked, “and I wish everyone would stop saying that shit. I get it, I’m fucking stupid. I’m nothing but a pretty boy, going nowhere in life, with no future beyond being a fucking ice cream boy or some shit! I’m bullshit.” He spat the last word with all of the venom he could muster, hearing Nancy do the same almost as clearly as she did that night. “It’s fine Hargrove. I release you from your tutor shit or whatever.”
Steve didn’t realize how close to crying he was until he said the clear dismissal. Great, now not only would Billy be able to say how stupid Steve Harrington was, but also that he was a crybaby.
He expected laughter, mocking retorts, even just for Billy to pack up and leave but what he got instead was Billy silently standing up and walking over to Steve, carefully avoiding the debris on the ground. Once he got to Steve, he carefully put a hand under his chin and tried to raise his head from where it had bent over in an attempt to hide the tears.
“Steve, look at me. Please?” Billy said softly. The gentle tone in his voice, as if he were afraid Steve was made of glass, ready to shatter at the wrong move, sent Steve over the edge. His head snapped up and he shot the coldest glare he could make at Billy.
“Let me go.”
“Not until you tal-” Steve lost it. All of the jealousy and rage and frustration and self-pity reared up. Steve pushed Billy back with all his might. He flailed in the air for a moment before catching himself on his back foot. Once Billy regained his balance, he looked directly at Steve, a challenge in his blueblueblue eyes.
“So that’s how you want to play it, Stevie?” He said, lunging towards Steve, who had frozen in shock at the fact that he had pushed Billy. They both fell to the floor and proceeded to wrestle for a few minutes before Billy finally pinned him down, arms held above his head and Billy straddling his thighs. They were both panting, clothes rumpled and hair a mess. Billy got his composure first, and leaned into Steve’s face.
“Now you have to listen to me Bambi,” he said, breath ghosting over Steve’s cheekbones, sending a shiver down his spine.
“No I don’t. Get the fuck off me.” He struggled, trying to pull his hands out of Billy’s tight grasp, but Billy only put more pressure on them.
“Not until you fucking listen to me Steve. You are not just some dumb bumpkin pretty boy. Yeah, you may be gorgeous, practically pretty enough to eat,” Steve scoffed at the statement, but quickly shut his mouth with a glare from Billy. “But you’re so much more than that. You’re kind, and patient, and a great fucking babysitter. Max never shuts up about you. You’re an awesome captain for the team, a fantastic leader. You’re strong and brave and sure, you’re not the brightest, but you understand people Steve. That- That’s incredible.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“Because, I never want you to feel like you’re not good enough. You amaze me Harrington. Every. Damn. Day.”
Steve broke eye contact to glance down at Billy’s lips, and for the second time that day threw caution to the wind.
“Can I- can I kiss you?”
“Fuck yes. Please,” Billy almost whined. Suddenly, Billy wasn’t pinning him down anymore, hands leaving his wrists to frame his face as he leaned down to give Steve a sweet, tender kiss.
“Been wanting to do that since Halloween baby.” Billy whispered.
“Why didn’t you?” Steve said, matching Billy’s whisper.
“Didn’t think you wanted it.”
“I definitely want it now Tiger.” Billy growled at the nickname, and Steve’s world was a blur for a few seconds as he was manhandled onto the couch, this time on top of Billy.
“Show me how much.”
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So, uh, yeah! Let me know if y’all enjoyed it! I’m hoping to get the rest of these prompts out tomorrow but we’ll see...
#harringrove#harringrove ficlet#tay writes#steve’s not the smartest#but he has so much else to offer#harringrove fic#tutor au
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Merry & Married {7}
SUMMARY: It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone. Enter Bucky Barnes, the best friend you’ve ever had. You fill him in, and of course he agrees to go home with you. What are friends for? Never mind the fact that he’s desperately in love with you. And if you hadn’t sworn off men forever, you might just find him … attractive. So there you are, surrounded by love, bridesmaid dresses, champagne, and no less than one hundred sprigs of mistletoe. What could possibly go wrong? WORD COUNT: 2800 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Emotional angst, presumably unrequited love, friends to lovers, fluff, happily ever after, written for the @heamarvel Holiday Movie Challenge
Masterlist
“I just don’t understand how you can be that damn stupid!” “I’m not stupid!” “Oh, really? You were there last year! You saw what he did, how bad it hurt her. How could you even think of inviting him?”
You stepped into the room to see Carol, Hope, and Natasha surrounding Darcy. Your mother and aunts were huddled in the opposite doorway, trying to stay out of it, whispering to each other. You sighed, and Hope held out her arms when she saw you.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. We had no idea.”
Darcy looked to you, green eyes wide. You walked to Hope and let her embrace you, looking to Darcy and shaking your head.
“Why did you do it? Why did you invite him?”
Carol gave an exasperated, muffled shriek.
“He shouldn’t have been able to step foot on the property! Much less have an invite to the fucking dinner.” “We had to invite his parents! I couldn’t just not invite him.” “Oh, yes you could!”
Three voices rang out in unison, and you looked from Hope to Carol to Natasha, all of them angrily glaring at Darcy. You sighed again and Darcy shook her head, eyes filling with tears.
“I— I didn’t think he’d come.” “You should have known he’d come. He loved those stupid dinners and the notoriety he had for being with Y/N. He always loved a show, didn’t he, Y/N? Of course he’d come last night.”
You blinked at Natasha, and Darcy closed her eyes, bowing her head.
“I messed up.”
Carol scoffed.
“Yeah, you did. I just don’t know how someone so smart can be so damn stupid.” “I’m not stupid!”
Darcy glared at Carol, then turned and ran from the room. May broke away from her sisters and rushed after her daughter. Hope pushed a hand through her hair as you sighed. You met Natasha’s eyes, then walked in the direction Darcy and May had just gone.
“Honey?”
You glanced back at your mom, shaking your head, continuing in your walk. You stopped outside the bedroom Darcy had always claimed, taking in a breath and letting it out when you saw May with her hands against the closed door. You swallowed, laying a hand on her back as you spoke.
“Darcy, it’s me. Will you let me in?”
You didn’t hear an answer, but when you tried the doorknob, it opened easily. You smiled at May, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. You leaned against the door and Darcy turned to you, tears rolling down her cheeks. She shook her head, rushing to you.
“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. You have to believe me.” “I do, Darce.”
Darcy shook her head, putting her face in her hands. After a moment, she lifted her head, tear-filled eyes meeting yours.
“How could I have done that? How could I have invited him, not only to last night, but to the wedding, too? It never even occurred to me that you’d have a problem with it.” “You didn’t ask me, Darcy.” “I haven’t seen you.”
You met her eyes and she shrugged.
“I get it. You had to get away from here, but … Peter isn’t the only one you left, Y/N. Do you know how stupid I felt emailing you and asking you to be a bridesmaid? But I didn’t know if you’d answer if I called.”
You blinked.
“I didn’t … I didn’t think about that.”
Darcy nodded, looking down at her hands.
“I know I’m not Carol or Natasha, but … I love you, too. And I’ve missed you this year.” “Can I ask you something?”
Darcy nodded again, and you walked to sit on the bed, swallowing before you spoke.
“Why did you carbon copy my wedding?”
Darcy came to sit beside you, giving you a smile.
“Because your wedding last year was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Everything was gorgeous and perfect and I told myself that if I ever got married, I’d want to do it just like you.”
You couldn’t help but smile. Darcy had always wanted to be like you. You and Natasha and Carol has always been thick as thieves. Hope was a bit older, Darcy a bit younger, and while you loved your cousins, there was always a closer bond between you, Carol, and Natasha.
Darcy shrugged a shoulder, looking down at her engagement ring.
“You didn’t deserve what Peter did to you.”
You never did know what to say to that, so you just nodded, looking down at your hands.
“Y/N, did … did it hurt your feelings for me to copy your wedding?”
You lifted your head, waiting a moment before answering.
“Yeah, Darce. It kind of did.” “Why?” “Because everywhere I look I’m reminded of what last year was like. How happy I was, all the dreams I was dreaming. And how it all came crashing down.”
Darcy closed her eyes, face falling as more tears spilled from beneath her lashes. She blinked her eyes open and shook her head.
“That never occurred to me. I didn’t once think of how this might make you feel. What kind of person does that?” “Darcy.” “No, I … I’m so selfish. Normal people think of these things. What’s wrong with me?”
You shook your head, reaching over and taking her hands.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” “Yes, there is! You heard Carol. How stupid can I be?”
Darcy yanked her hands away from you, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, and you sighed.
“Carol was angry, Darce. She didn’t mean what she said.” “Well, maybe she should have.”
Darcy walked to the window and stared out, crossing her arms again. You licked your lips, speaking softly.
“Do you remember that summer little Peter came to live with you?”
Darcy didn’t turn around, and you smiled.
“You loved him, but you did not want a brother. You spent the night with me … at least once a week. And then you and I came out here and stayed for a couple of weeks.”
Darcy glanced over her shoulder and you smiled at her.
“When I got your email and saw the date, I didn’t want to come. But all I could think about was that summer and how much fun we had together.”
Tears came to her eyes again.
“That was the best summer of my life. When you and I were like you and Carol and Nat always were.”
She shook her head, voice going soft.
“I’ve always wanted to be like you, Y/N. So kind and gentle. So loving. But I’m not.” “Honey.”
You stood up and walked to her, turning her to face you, taking her hands.
“Look what being me got me. I got left at the altar, broken up with in the most public, most humiliating way. You need to be you, Darcy. Not me.” “But look at me! Basic decency somehow escapes me and I never even realize it until someone points it out. How can anybody live like that? How can Ian want to marry someone like that?”
She shook her head and you pulled her close, wrapping your arms around her.
“That’s the wonderful thing about finding the person you’re supposed to spend your life with. You fit together like the only two pieces of a puzzle. Everything you lack, he has.”
Darcy moved her hands to your back, pushing you closer. You moved a hand to stroke her hair and she spoke softly.
“You really believe that?”
You nodded.
“It took me a while to get there, but that’s something that made me realize Peter and I never would have made it. We didn’t complete each other. I was over here and he was over there, and we couldn’t meet in the middle.”
You were struck with a memory of how Peter hated mushrooms, something you loved. While you’d been willing to sacrifice eating them, he wouldn’t budge. If he found a stray mushroom on his plate, he’d refuse to eat.
Bucky didn’t like mushrooms, either. But he ordered them on pizzas, and he’d pick them off his slices and give them to you to eat.
You took in a shaky breath.
“Y/N?” “I’m okay. Are you?”
Darcy nodded. She leaned back, keeping hold of your hands.
“I really am sorry my wedding is bringing up bad memories for you.”
You smiled.
“It’s not all bad. I am enjoying the mistletoe, how happy it makes the little ones.”
Darcy grinned.
“I’m just ready for you and Bucky to get stuck under some.”
You felt your cheeks flush and Darcy laughed softly.
“He seems like a good one, Y/N. Much better than Peter.” “Thanks, Darce.”
She gave your hands a squeeze.
“Are we okay?”
You nodded.
“We’re good, bridezilla.” “Hey! I’m not a bridezilla!”
You giggled, and Darcy just stared at you for a moment before she started giggling, too.
Bucky glanced over his shoulder, smiling when you came walking down the stairs. He took in a breath and moved a hand to his chest. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, adjusting the three-quarter length lacy sleeves of your black dress.
“I don’t look like I’m going to a funeral, do I?”
Bucky snorted.
“No. You look gorgeous.”
You rolled your eyes, fluffing the curls in your hair.
“Nat’s a wizard with a curling iron.” “I see. Very nice.” “Very hairsprayed.”
Bucky gave a quiet laugh. You turned to look at him, at the sweater he was wearing with a suit jacket over it. You smiled, pretending to fix the lapels of his jacket.
“You look nice, too.” “Oh, I say you’re gorgeous and all I get is ‘nice?’”
You laughed softly, laying a hand against his chest.
“Handsome?” “Keep talking.”
Bucky looped your arm through his, walking with you to the section of the property where the rehearsal dinner would take place.
“Hunky?” “I feel that you could do better.”
You felt a smile come to your lips when the two of you reached the rehearsal. You leaned over, whispering to him.
“Panty-dropping.”
Bucky’s eyes widened as his cheeks flushed and you laughed to yourself as you opened the doors and walked inside. He rushed up behind you, gently pinching your side.
“Not cool!”
He hissed the words into your ear, straightening and eyes widening again.
“Wow.”
The room was a winter wonderland, with multiple Christmas trees peppered throughout. Tables were set up with white tablecloths, fancy plates with silver edging, and tiny Christmas trees as centerpieces. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he looked around, feeling for some reason like he was inside a snow globe, just without the snow. He turned to you, hand automatically reaching for yours.
“Y/N.” “It’s—“
The breath hitched leaving your throat and you shook your head. Bucky stepped closer and you laid a hand against his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing under your palm. You took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly. Bucky leaned forward, his forehead bumping yours.
“Is this how it was decorated for you?”
You nodded, pushing a smile onto your lips.
“Not exactly. Some of the details are a little different. But it’s very close.”
You closed your eyes when Bucky pressed his lips against your temple. You gave his hand a squeeze.
“The good news is, the dinner will be a thick steak that will melt like butter on your tongue.” “Oh, really?” “Yeah, I think I signed you up for the vegetarian version, though.”
Bucky’s blue eyes narrowed.
“You take that back right now.”
You gave a soft laugh and he squeezed your hand. You looked over the room again, exhaling and nodding as you led Bucky outside to where the ceremony would take place.
“So it’s like a rite of passage? Everyone gets married here?”
Scott nodded, taking another sip of his beer.
“Hope and I did. All their moms did. Cassie’s even told me she’s getting married here, and I told her sure, when she’s forty.”
Bucky smiled, drinking from his beer. He looked across the room and saw you with Cassie and little Morgan, the girls each holding one of your hands as the three of you danced. Morgan looked up and tugged on your hand, and when you looked up and saw the mistletoe, you smiled, picking her up and kissing her cheek, making her giggle as she threw her arms around your neck.
Bucky felt a pain in the center of his chest and he absently lifted a hand to rub it. He finished off his beer, taking his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture of Morgan’s head on your shoulder. He smiled at the photo, eyebrow raising when Morgan whispered in your ear. You nodded, putting her down on the ground, and Bucky watched her run on her tiptoes to him. He knelt down, taking her hands when she reached him.
“Hi.”
Bucky smiled.
“Hi.” “Y/N needs a boy to dance wif.”
Bucky’s smile widened.
“Oh, she does?”
Morgan nodded, tugging on Bucky’s hand. He stood up and let her lead him to the dance floor, where you sighed and looped an arm around his neck. Morgan squealed as her dad came up behind her, picking her up and carrying her across the floor. Cassie ran over to Scott and you sighed again as you turned to face him. Bucky smiled as he murmured to you.
“You good?”
You groaned softly, both of your arms around his neck as Bucky’s hands went to rest at your hips.
“Those little monsters are exhausting.”
Bucky laughed and you rested your head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, tilting his head to rest it on yours. The music playing turned slow, and you watched as Hank pulled Janet to the floor, Uncle Phil smiling as Nadia took his hand. You smiled when May wrapped her arms around your mom, both of them laughing as they started to sway. Pepper and Tony were dancing, a sleeping Morgan resting between them. Darcy and Ian were lost in each other’s eyes, her friend Jane almost hidden in the arms of her huge fiancé. Hope and Scott were barely moving, one of his arms around her, the other on her belly. Natasha and Clint were sitting in a corner, her legs over his lap, his arm around her shoulder. Carol was at the bar, smiling and talking to the bartender, a dark-skinned girl with a big smile.
“Y/N?” “Hmm?” “You okay?”
You leaned back to look up at Bucky, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly. You moved a hand to brush your fingers through his hair.
“It wasn’t like this last year.” “Really?”
You nodded.
“I don’t really remember what it was, but there was some kind of crisis. I didn’t even dance at all. Peter was so quiet, so pale, and absolutely worthless with … whatever the problem was. I think Carol and Uncle Hank finally got everyone to leave.”
You sighed.
“That should have been a sign.” “Honey, you wouldn’t have seen it.”
You met his eyes and he smiled at you, adjusting his arms, pulling you closer. You stared into his eyes for a moment, then smiled back at him.
“You’re right.” “I know.”
You gently punched his arm and Bucky laughed. Carol stepped over to you, a smile on her face.
“It’s getting late. Bridesmaid slumber party for Darcy’s last night of single maidenhood.”
You gave a quiet laugh, then nodded. Carol glanced up and you gave a quick shake of your head. She rolled her eyes, sticking her hands in her pockets as she walked away. You turned back to Bucky and he smiled at you.
“Slumber party, huh?”
You smiled.
“It’s a tradition. We did it when Hope married Scott, did it last year, even though that didn’t turn out well.” “Did you sleep well last year?”
You shook your head.
“No, I didn’t. Something else that should have been a bright red flag.”
Bucky gave a quiet laugh and you sighed.
“It’s awful, but I’ll be glad when this is over.” “I know, babe. But it’s almost done.”
You nodded, leaning in and wrapping him in a hug. Bucky closed his eyes, hugging you tightly. You leaned back and smiled at him and you closed your eyes when he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”
You nodded, watching him walk away, feeling a tugging in your heart to go with him. You swallowed, turning towards where your cousins had gathered, closing your eyes when Natasha put an arm around you, pulling you close to her side.
TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @walkingchemicalfire, @eileenalone, @mrsalh32611, @alexxcorona113, @ivoryhazlewood, @chaoticfanatic, @rhapsody-in-flannel, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall, @captainchrisstan, @ninaminaromina, @geeksareunique, @allsortsofinterests, @nerdy-bookworm-1998, @misplacedorphan, @chrisevansgirl, @whimsicalatbest, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @isaxhorror, @redhairedfeistynerd, @n3rdybird, @the-ss-acklestan, @moonlessnight14, @momobaby227, @what-is-your-plan-today, @pinknerdpanda, @smolandrare-coffee-bean, @supraveng, @becausewhyknotme, @the-jer-bear
#merry & married#heamarvel#mhea holiday movie challenge 2019#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#marvel au#mcu#mcu au#mcu fanfiction#marvel reader insert#mcu reader insert#reader interactive#bucky barnes fanfiction
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Jeon Jungkook- Warm Welcome
REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (Hey! I also write for anime too...so fucking request for sum anime fucc)
I didn’t have the heart to go through with my first draft of this because it would have gotten me into HUGE trouble. Like there was nothing wrong with the original draft but...it got a little too extreme. So I went ahead and re-wrote it.
Also still working on that writing playlist, it’s way longer than I expected it to be omg.
Plus yall know I had to play into my Sugar Daddy fantasies too mkay? Y’all already know!
Also! You guys, when you choose prompts, I might change the phrases up to fit it, love you!
Leggo!
...
“Where are you now?” you stared out the window over the city. The lights were buzzing and you could almost hear the hum of the city.
“I’m at the airport. But there’s a bit of a problem so getting out of here is getting difficult” Jungkook said on the other end of the line. “Does my baby miss daddy?” you could just hear the smirk on the other end of the line. It had been months, of cucking course you missed him.
“What do you think?” you mumbled, almost whining. “Hurry up.”
“Are you at the penthouse?” he asked. Jungkook being the man that loves to waste his money on you purchased a penthouse at one of the most expensive hotels in the city. What was the occasion? Because you told him you might have had to move some of your stuff to a storage units. So his solution was to get a fucking PENTHOUSE. It was private and practically security protected.
“Hm yeah.” you said, wandering around the living room. “I’m also wearing your favorite set.” you teased. Jungkook loved buying lingerie for you. It seemed as if you ended up getting something new every week, not that you complained. Who didn’t love a good expensive bra and panties set to prance around in. However it was a cold night, so you wore a large sweater over it.
“Hm oh are you?” you heard him whisper. He was in public so he obviously couldn’t say much. “I want to rip it off you.”
“Hmm but it’s so nice and you paid so much for it.” you whined. “Why would you want to tear it??”
“You know good and well fucking why.” he chuckled. “Don’t make me have to say it.” he said.
“I dare you.” you replied. “I dare you to say it.....daddy.” you pouted. You knew what calling him that would do to him and it drove him mad. “Won’t you tell me?”
“Well, my bratty little sexy devil...When I tear those panties off that sexy little ass of yours, I intend of fucking you so hard to make up for lost time.” he growled into the phone. “I’m gonna walk into that penthouse and throw you onto the first couch I see and-”
“I am not a brat!” you whined. “I just know what I want.”
“So tell me babygirl...what do you want?” he asked.
“It’s a secret.” you teased. “I’m not gonna tell you.”
“Oh really? Well let’s see if you know when I get there.” Jungkook sighed.
“I dunno Jungkook...I’m feeling a little slow today. I just might not know.” you shrugged, making him laugh.
“Well If I get there before the fucking morning, maybe I’ll help you out..”
He hung up, leaving you feeling warm inside. You were jumping with joy. You had missed him while he was away and he was coming back to you. To do whatever you wanted. You skipped off into the bedroom, excited.
...
The front door swung open and a sweaty Jungkook stormed in. He yanked off his jacket, throwing it onto the floor and slammed the door closed. He searched the area for you, but you weren’t in the living room. His breath heaved. You were probably in the bedroom.
He walked into the bedroom, stopping when he saw a plate of cookies on the coffee table next to a card that read ‘WELCOME HOME!’
He laughed at how childish you were, shaking his head, but it did make him happy knowing you waited up for him. He would definitely eat thos eocokies later though, you were a great cook. He ran a hand through his hair tiredly, kicking his shoes off, eyeing a picture of you and him on the coffee table. It was you and him on the beach.
He went to call your name but you had walked out of the bathroom, stretching your arms over your head. You were pretty tired and about to give up and take a nap when you noticed you weren’t alone. You looked at him from across the room.
“Kookie!” You squealed running towards him. You practically jumped into his arms but thanks to his strength he was able to lift you up and wrap your legs around his torso. “You’re back! W-when did you-”
“Just now.” he heaved, digging his head into the crook of your neck. “It took me forever to get out of that fucking place.” he growled. “I missed you so damn much.” he inhaled your scent. “Is that my sweater?” he suddenly asked.
“Maaayybbeee...” you giggled. “I got cold and my jackets aren’t as warm.” you mumbled sheepishly. “Okay can we not talk about my habit of stealing your clothes.”
“Fuck Y/N.” he growled. Jungkook walked backwards towards the bed and practically threw you onto the bed. “I missed you.” he crawled your you, not hesitating to crash his mouth onto yours. “It’s been way too fucking long.” he said, yanking his shirt over his head. “Daddy couldn’t function without you. I was so miserable without you.”
You couldn’t reply because he had kissed you again, trailing his hands up your thighs. You tangled your hands in his hair. His body was like a furnace. His hands snuck under your sweater, roaming his hands along the slopes of your body. A low growl erupted from his throat seeing that body he missed so much right under him, squirming and begging for some sort of release.
Your tongues clashed. You already knew better than to try to challenge Jungkook. He grabbed the waistband of your panties and yanked them down.
“I’ll have to take care of you later, baby girl. I just need you now!” he growled, yanking his pants down. “I missed you so fucking much.” he groaned. “H-hey, ride me.”
You looked up in surprise, he had never asked you that before. Before you knew it you were straddling Jungkook. “Ride me just like this, wearing my sweater.”
You felt his cock up against your slit, causing him to let out a almost high pitched moan. “F-fuck, d-daddy needs you.” He held onto your thighs, helping you lower yourself onto him.
Hearing your lewd water sounds as you rocked your hips forward, sending him crazy.
“K-kookie.” you whimpered and Jungkook’s hips bucked upwards, thrusting him length deep into you. You held yourself fall forward, pinning your hands on either side of Jungkook’s head to keep yourself up. Jungkook’s arms hooked around your thighs as he thrust his hips upwards.
“Do you like riding daddy, baby?” he asked, lifting his head up to sink his teeth into your neck. “Fuck I missed this.” he groaned. “I missed you-”
He dug his member deep into you, making it impossible to keep your arms steady. To your surprise [and delight] Jungkook had flipped you over so you were laying on your back. You arms could have given out at any moment, so you were relieved. Jungkook drove his cock deeper and deeper into you, his groans of appreciation drowning your your needy whimpers. You could see the sweat dripping down his face and neck.
You felt his warmth inside you, coating every part of your walls as you came and spilled your own water all over his dick. You arched your back and bucked your hips, trying to anchor yourself from the sensitivity you felt from just having him inside you the way he was.
A shallow laugh escaped Jungkook as he leaned down to push your hair out your face. “How’s that for a welcome back.”
“...S-shut up. Meanie.” you pouted. “You- AAH.” you felt Jungkook taking his sweet ass time, slowly slipping his cock out of your tightness, letting you feel every inch of his girth.
He laid down, pulling you close to him.
‘How about I take you out shopping tomorrow.”
“If I can even walk tomorrow” you mumbled as you laid your head on his chest. You didn’t care either way. Jungkook was back and you would have all of his undivided attention.
“Mhmm, get some sleep.” he mumbled. “I’ll take good care of you in the morning.”
You couldn’t wait.
(I’ve been waking up super late as of lately, I’m sorry that my posts are late af, forgive meeee. I wanna want to get more than one post in a day but my mojo had been in a downward spiral. I hope to fix it soon.)
#kpop imagines#namjoon smut#jimin smut#jungkook smut#seokjin smut#taehyung smut#yoongi smut#hoseok smut#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts au#bts smut#imagines#smut#namjoon imagines#taehyung imagines#yoongi imagines#seokjin imagines#hoseok imagines#jimin imagines#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#daddy jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook imagine
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All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU
{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}
Chapter Twenty-Five - Shelter from the Storm
The trip hadn’t gone too well. Only a few more days in, they’d spotted someone who looked like the Bald Man, and not wanting to take any chances, they slid two towns over, hoping to throw pursuers off their trail. They were now hiding in an old barn on the edge of town limits, sheltering from the rain that had begun a few minutes before, and while Bertrand checked the perimeter, Beatrice spread out their map, pushing her hair back as she drew with a pen to show Quigley their new route.
“It’ll be a bit difficult, but we might be able to make up for lost time if we go diagonally this way.” she said.
Quigley leaned over, and shook his head. “No. That city has a very high population.”
“Means it’ll be easier to blend into a crowd.”
“Yeah, and public transportation will be more crowded and quickly filled-up, which will slow us down. If we go around…” he took the pen from her, and made a light half-circle around the city. “This way, it might mean a longer journey, but we won’t have to deal with long waits or overcrowded buses.”
“Fair point, but we don’t want to wander into an area with too low a population.”
“I think this area should be fine. If we go this way, we can reach that last bus stop in about three days; God knows how long it would take us the other way way, what with finding all the right areas, getting on all the right transports- also, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sleep in an alley in the city.”
Beatrice glanced down at him, her gaze softening. “I don’t like doing that, either. It’s… very dangerous.” She sighed. “I like your plan, Quigley. We’ll go this way.”
“Really?”
“Really. You’re right, the city will be more dangerous. Besides, if we go around this way, we should be able to restock our food supply for a bit cheaper.”
“That’s a good idea.” Quigley nodded, and then laughed a little. “I think I packed too many almonds, I’m getting sick of them.”
“Bertrand and I can’t get sick of any food.” Beatrice shrugged. “We eat what comes our way.”
“What about your kids?” Quigley hoisted himself up on the table, kicking his legs. “Are they picky? I’m picky.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘picky.’’ Beatrice sighed, and then sat beside him on the table. “They have some sensory issues with certain foods, so we try to avoid those unless we don’t have any other choice. Klaus more than Violet, I’d say. And Sunny just likes to eat hard foods.”
“Sensory issues.” Quigley repeated, running a hand through his hair. Then he said, “Like when Violet makes a ponytail? Cause her hair’s a sensory issue?”
“Yeah.” Beatrice nodded. “She can’t think when her hair’s in her face, distracting her.”
“I can think fine with hair in my face,” Quigley said, considering, “But there’s a lot of clothes I can’t wear, cause they feel horrible.” He coughed a little, and then giggled and ran his hands through his hair again.
Beatrice looked very soft again. “Lemony was the same way. Couldn’t wear some things without going absolutely insane. If you put him in wet socks…” she laughed slightly, pushing a hair behind her ear. “God.”
Quigley kicked his legs more, watching them move through the air. “Jacques never mentioned Lemony.” he snorted. “Well, I guess he never mentioned a lot, but…”
“Jacques and Lemony had a… bit of a falling out a few years back.” Beatrice sighed. “So Jacques wouldn’t- besides, we don’t know who else knows that Lemony’s… not around anymore. We don’t know who knows and who doesn’t and…” she trailed off, shutting her eyes.
“It must be horrible.” Quigley muttered. “You didn’t even get to go to his funeral.”
Beatrice shook her head. “Well, you couldn’t go to your parents’, could you?”
Quigley stared at the floor, and admitted, “I don’t even know if they had one.”
Carefully, Beatrice put her arm around his shoulders. “Neither do I.”
Before they could do anything else, the door slid open, and they jumped, turning around quickly. They relaxed quickly as Bertrand entered, kicking the door shut behind him, sopping wet.
“Well,” he said, “Perimeter is clear, but it is raining quite a bit.”
“Oh, come here.” Beatrice sighed. She slid off the table, shrugging off her jacket and moving back to her husband. While he let out a small protest, she tossed her jacket over his shoulders, rubbing slightly to try and dry him off faster. “You’re going to freeze.”
“I’m going to be fine. It’s just a little rain.”
“Sit down.”
“Beatrice, come on-”
“Sit down.”
She dragged him to a bench shoved into the corner of the barn, forcing him to sit before seating herself beside him, using her jacket to dry him off some more. He sighed and eventually resigned himself to this, letting her fuss over him for a moment, while Quigley busied himself packing up the map into Beatrice’s bag. He coughed again, and then yawned, trying not to pay attention to the adults being all affectionate in front of him.
“Put different clothes on, these are too wet.” Beatrice eventually said, tossing her jacket aside to dry.
“There’s no place to change.”
“Toss a blanket up.”
“Bea.”
“At least change your shirt. You look like someone dumped a bucket of water on it.”
“Well, no, but I was standing under a tree when too much water gathered in the leaves, and-”
“Fucking hell, Bertrand.”
“Okay, fine.” Bertrand smiled slightly as he flipped his bag open, pulling out a sweater. “Don’t pull that face.”
“What face?”
“That ‘concerned wife’ face, it just makes me feel bad.”
“That’s the idea, honey. I’m guilt-tripping you into self-care.”
“Do you do this to the children and I’ve never noticed?”
“It doesn’t work on them, I have to resort to threats. Which I will do to you if you don’t at least put on a new shirt.”
“Okay, okay!”
Beatrice stood up and shot him a playful glare, and Bertrand sighed and tossed off his shirt, hanging it on a loose nail to dry, before shoving the sweater on. “There. Happy?”
“Happier.”
“Good enough.”
Beatrice laughed and put her arms around him, kissing his cheek. “Bea.” he sighed, though he was beaming.
“Bertrand.”
He carefully sat back down on the bench, and she leaned on his shoulder, letting him play with her hair for a moment. She shut her eyes, humming against his sweater sleeve, and he smiled down at her a moment.
Then he looked up.
Quigley was carefully approaching them, his eyes locked on Bertrand. His face had gone a bit pale, and Bertrand immediately felt his smile drop. He carefully tugged on Beatrice’s hand, prompting her to open her eyes and look. She then sat up, opening her mouth, trying to figure out what to say.
Quigley slowly stood in front of them, and then grabbed Bertrand’s hand, holding his arm up.
Bertrand realized quickly what he was doing, and said, “Quigley, I-”
Not listening, Quigley pushed the sweater sleeve back, and stared down at the bruises and scars.
The Baudelaire parents froze a moment, unsure what to do. Quigley didn’t move for a while, either, just looking down. Then he let Bertrand’s arm drop, and he turned to Beatrice, his eyes flickering to her longer sleeves as well.
They were silent, and then he said, “Are those from Olaf?”
Beatrice and Bertrand shared a terrified look for a moment, while Quigley stood still, waiting for his answer. Carefully, Beatrice tugged her own sleeve down, and Bertrand said, “Um… most of them.”
Quigley didn’t say anything.
Beatrice shut her eyes, and then scooted away from Bertrand, patting the spot between them. Quigley shut his eyes and sat down, and as he did, his calm faded for just a second, and they could see him start to shake. He recovered himself quickly, but not quickly enough for them not to notice. Beatrice put her hand over his, and Bertrand leaned over so he could look Quigley in the eyes.
“We got hurt, yes.” Bertrand said. “By Olaf.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” Quigley said, his voice going blank. “I- I assumed, but-”
“But you only just saw.” Beatrice whispered. “It only just hit you?”
Quigley fell silent again, and Bertrand said, “Quigley, I want you to know something. We’re okay now. He can’t hurt us anymore.”
“Yes, he can. If he catches up-”
“He won’t.” Bertrand grabbed Quigley’s hand, squeezing it. “We’ve avoided him for fifteen years, won’t be hard to keep going. And Quigley, listen to me.” He waited until the boy met his eyes, and then he said, “We will never let him get anywhere near you. What happened to us will never happen to you. We will protect you with our lives if we have to.”
Quigley stared at him, shock bursting through his otherwise blank expression.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Quigley.” Beatrice promised. “Or our kids, or your siblings.”
He hugged himself, and then said, “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You don’t have to.” Bertrand said. “We’re the adults here, it’s our job. We’re going to protect you, alright?”
“I-”
“Alright?”
He sighed, and then smiled. “Alright.” he hesitated, and then said, “When we find Isadora and Duncan, we can probably help you. Duncan’s a great researcher and journalist, we can probably find something to clear your-”
“No.” Beatrice shook her head. “No, it’s too late for us.”
“We’ll find you and your siblings and our kids somewhere safe.” Bertrand said. “That’s what matters.”
“But-”
“No buts.” Beatrice smiled, putting her arm around him. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“But I worry about a lot of things! You guys are hurt and my siblings and your kids are alone and my head’s been hurting for a couple days and-”
“Are you drinking enough water?”
“Yes, I just… I just don’t want…”
Bertrand paused. “Don’t want what?”
Quigley opened his mouth to respond, and then paused.
“Quigley?”
Quigley tried to say something, and then he leaned over and vomited onto the ground.
Beatrice leapt to her feet, and Bertrand immediately put his hands on Quigley’s shoulders, maneuvering around to look him in the eye.
“Quigley? Quigley, are you-”
Quigley gasped, shut his eyes, and then passed out onto Bertrand’s shoulder.
Beatrice screamed and leapt forwards, and her and Bertrand managed to lift Quigley, laying him onto the bench. Beatrice felt his forehead and said, “Shit, fuck, he’s got a fever, holy shit…”
“Get the first aid kit.” Bertrand said, his words coming out fast. “We swiped one in the last town, right? Or- or am I remembering wrong?”
“No, I’ve got it- fuck.” Beatrice ran to the bag, digging through. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Thunder clapped outside, but Beatrice had a feeling the storm wasn’t quite so big a worry at the moment.
#asoue#asoue netflix#asoue au#a series of unfortunate events#runaway baudelaires au#asoue fanfiction#my fanfic#mine
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