#her very being were mine and mine alone. She was my little mouse and I’d made sure she knew it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tobesobri · 4 years

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Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs.

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed.

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen.

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes.

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all.

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date.

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level.

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces.

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building.

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.”

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?”

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response.

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it.

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her.

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs.

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car.

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse.

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office.

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself.

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered.

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art…

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth…

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant.

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands.

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be.

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner.

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember.

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out.

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening.

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine.

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone.

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth.

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year.

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office.

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried.

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen.

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest.

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her.

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him.

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office.

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody.

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex.

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people.

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were.

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry.

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information.

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry.

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet.

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him.

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that.

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with.

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough.

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends.

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here.

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced.

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic.

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew.

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume.

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.”

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.”

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right.

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.”

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time.

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it.

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her.

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way.

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good…

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed.

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself.

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back.

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…”

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach.

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat.

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words.

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

#1dffvalentine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

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Tonight's Theme: Being Selfish

AO3 Link! argument fic but it's not my brand so it's a bad argument fic so I am not the least bit happy with how this turned out. and I cannot tell if I've contradicted myself in this story with what I said so I apologise profusely if I did. I also apologise for any grammatical errors. regardless, please enjoy and tell me what you think if you'd like!

***

The minute you stepped into Alcina’s study, the atmosphere changed. She knew why you were there and let out sharp exhale before lighting a cigarette.

Alcina took a drag, blowing the smoke out before she looked at you. “My answer still hasn’t changed, draga mea.”

You frowned as you walked over to her. “Why not?” You asked.

“Because it is far too dangerous for you to do.” Alcina replied.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Why do you even get to make the decision? It’s my body, it should be my choice.” You argued.

“Darling, if I let you make any and every decision you wanted to then you wouldn’t be standing here right now.” Alcina said. She had a point. You’d made a pretty reckless decision a few months ago and it’s made her even more protective of you.

“Look, it’s sweet that you’re trying to protect me, Alci, but I really am capable of making my own decisions, reckless or not.” You replied.

Alcina sighed. “Little one, I really don’t have the time to go over this right now. I am swamped with business.” Alcina said as she replaced her quellazaire with her pen.

“That’s always your excuse, that you’re too busy for me.” You were tired of her constantly brushing you off.

“I am never too busy for you. I simply don’t wish to have this argument with you, Y/N.” Alcina responded, rubbing at her temples. “The risks of taking the cadou are high, as I’ve told you. We’ve no idea what it can and will do to you and I’d rather not take the chance to find out.”

“But Mother Mirana clearly stated that it’s the only way she’ll bless our relationship and let us marry.” You replied.

Alcina laughed dryly. “Is that what this is about? You want to seek Miranda’s approval of our relationship?” Alcina asked. “You silly little mouse, Miranda doesn’t care about our relationship. She doesn’t care about you, nor me, nor my daughters, or any of the other Lords. No, Miranda only cares about obtaining a proper vessel for her darling daughter, Eva. I stopped seeking her approval on matters a long time ago so I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

Your frown deepened at her words. “That’s not what I meant, Al.”

“Then what did you mean, dear one? Hmm?” Alcina asked. “Is that not what you were implying? That you wish to get that thing put into your body so you can marry me? Do you not care about your own well being, that you’d just do without thinking?” Alcina abandoned her pen once again, but this time to pick up her glass of wine. "If you did, you wouldn’t keep hounding me about it. PPlus, your intent for the cadou is purely selfish, and that’s not a good look for anybody.”

You snatched the glass out of her hand before she could take a sip, the look of shock on her face making you regret the decision a bit. After all, the wine did help her calm down so you sat it down on the desk. “I don’t understand.” You said softly. “It may be a selfish reason, but you said I was your one true, the love of your life. And I can’t be that without the cadou, without the ability to be immortal like you and the girls. You say you love me, but you won’t let me do the one thing that’ll keep us together forever. And I don’t understand.” Your voice cracked as your eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, yes, please cry me a river. I know it’s a harsh reality, but I am doing this for your own safety, Y/N.” Alcina replied. “And frankly, I don’t care how my decision makes you feel, the answer is no and that is final. Am I understood?” Alcina asked.

You nodded your head and sniffled. “But I love you and if you loved and cared about me like you always say then you’d let me take it.”

“You say you understand my words, yet you still stand here defying my answer, trying to guilt trip me into changing it.” Alcina stood from her desk and headed towards the door. “Listen to me carefully, you ungrateful little mouse. You can go to Miranda and ask for that damned parasite of hers, but if anything goes wrong, do not come crawling back to me. You can beg, you can cry, you can scream into you’re blue in your little face, you will be dead to me and my daughters, and you will not be welcomed into my home. The decision is yours to make as you wished for it to be and what you do now regarding the cadou is none of my concern.” Alcina said rather calmly albeit the scowl on her face before leaving you alone in her study.

You broke down as soon as she left. Alcina had very good reasons as to why she didn’t want you to take the cadou, why she was being so hostile. But still, her words hurt you. It made her love for you seem inferior, but you refused to believe that that was the case. Alcina said she was doing this for your own safety and you were just going to have to trust her on this.

As you gathered yourself together, you left Alcina’s study. She’d given you an ultimatum, the decision should’ve been easy. You’d simply just have to forget about the cadou and live your life with Alcina until your dying day. Then she’d find someone else to replace you in heart, you grimaced at the thought, blocking it from your mind as you wiped at your eyes.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” A voice asked you. Daniela’s, you assumed.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.” You replied, your voice sounding a little scratchy.

“You don’t sound fine. And Mother looked awfully upset a few moments ago.” Daniela said.

You sighed. “We had a disagreement about something, no big deal.” You shrugged your shoulders as you continued walking down the hall.

“About the cadou, right?” You stopped and turned to look at her. “Mother may have been muttering about it to herself when I saw her.” She admitted. “Bela and Cassandra went to go and try to comfort her so I thought I’d wait for you.”

You gave her a small smile. “That’s sweet of you, thank you. And yes, it was about the cadou.” You replied. “It was a stupid thing to bring up again. I just, I fear for the day that I can no longer be with any of you, that’s all.3”

“Mother fears for it too, if it’s any consolation.” Daniela said. “She cares for you, Y/N, she really does. It’s been so long since Mother’s had someone around that she truly loves and she doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I understand that, Dani, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I took the cadou.” You replied.

“But if Mother lost you, it’d be the end of hers.” Daniela said. “I think Mother is saying no because she doesn’t want to risk losing it before she has to. She’d rather you spent your days with her until you’re old than to lose you before your lives together really started. Mother’s not the one to really wear her heart on her sleeve, but she intends to do well by you, Y/N. Even if it seems a bit selfish.”

You nodded your head. “Being selfish seems to be the theme for tonight.” You murmured to yourself. “Listen, Dani, it’s not that I don’t want to just spend my days with her until I grow old. I want to be with her forever, and I can’t risk losing her just like she can’t risk losing me. Will you take me to her?” You asked.

Daniela nodded her head, leading you to where her Mother was. “Just promise you won’t leave us, no matter what. You’re one of the nicest people here and I’ve grown rather fond of you.”

“I can’t make any promises, Dani, but I’ll try.” You replied. You let out a small exhale before knocking on the door.

Bela opened the door, a little surprised to see you. “Now’s not the best time, Y/N.”

“Please, I just... I need to talk to her for a moment.” You replied.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough talking with Mother for one evening?” Cassandra sneered at you.

Daniela pushed Cassandra out of the way. “Leave it alone, Cass. It’s not really any of your business what goes on between Mother and Y/N in private. Let them talk to her. Now.” Daniela said as she grabbed your hand, guiding you into the room. “Mother, Y/N has something they’d like to talk to you about.”

Alcina hummed before waving her hand in the air signalling for her daughters to leave the both of you. Daniela gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, Bela gave you a sympathetic smile, and Cassandra growled at you. You’re pretty sure Cassandra threatened you under her breath, but you could catch the small snarl she let out when Daniela hit her shoulder.

Alcina waited until the door was closed before addressing. “Come to provoke me even further, Y/N?” Alcina asked.

You’d taken a moment to notice the broken vanity in the corner of the room. Shaking your head, you walked to stand in front of her. “No. I came to... I came to apologise, Alci.” You replied.

Alcina raised her eyebrow, placing her wine glass on the table next to her. “Apologise for what, Y/N?”

“For being selfish.” You said softly. “Not that you aren’t being entirely selfish yourself, but I wanted to apologise for how I reacted. I did mean what I said, I want to be with you until the end of time, Alcina. It hurts me to think that one day I won’t have all of this, that I won’t have you just because I’m not immortal like you and I could die at the drop of a hat.”

Alcina raised her hand to your cheek, cupping it. “You will never have to worry about dying at the drop of a hat nor will you ever not have me. I am yours, as you are mine, draga mea.” Alcina replied. “You must understand that I simply won’t permit you to have the cadou at this time. It’s not safe after what happened with that wretched man-thing, iubirea mea. That’s why I said no.”

You looked at her in confusion. “It’s not safe?” You asked.

“No, my love. After what happened, Miranda’s had a bit of a set back with the parasite and it’s not... she can’t control it like she used to be able to. Her experiments have been complete failures, though she is finding success with it every once in a while. Once it is more stable then we will revisit the topic, but as of right now, I can’t let you take it.”

You hand came to rest on the one Alcina had over your cheek, squeezing it lightly. “I understand, Alci.” You said softly. “Thank you for talking to me. I know you tried to get me to understand back in the study, but I was so clouded by sheer will to spend eternity with you that I just didn’t properly understand what you were trying to tell me.”

“I’m glad you understand now, dear. I should’ve told you sooner about the instability of the parasite at the moment, I’m sorry.” Alcina apologised. “It was, like you said, a bit selfish on my behalf to keep such a thing away from you.”

You shook your head. “No need to apologise, Al, it’s fine. Besides, if you weren’t selfish, you would’ve given me to the girls to be a midnight snack a long time ago.” You said before pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. “Are we okay?”

“Yes, draga mea, we’re fine.” Alcina replied before glancing at the time. “It is getting close to the midnight hour; may I indulge in the idea of you being a midnight snack?” Alcina asked with a smirk on her face.

You laughed as she pulled you onto her lap. “You’re incorrigible, Al.” You rolled your eyes before pulling her mouth down to yours.

Selfish or not, it was your personal goal to spend the rest of your life with Alcina, and you'd wait for however long it takes for Miranda to get the parasite under her control again, but for right now you'd be content with being a midnight snack for her until the time came for you to cross that bridge.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #added tags #lady dimitrescu's daughters #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

ONE BOTTLE TO BLAME

Prompt: Requested, by the lovely @jazzy-bella02 (I’m sorry this took me so long to post it, but I hope you’ll like it and thank you so much for being patient with me, honey 😘)

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dom x sub dynamic, oral sex (male and female receiving / 69), dirty talk, name calling (aka degradation), kinda fluff (at the end), slight angst, breath play (asphyxiation kink)

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @marlananicole , @bellalutionn , @sassymox , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: I just want to put this out there (before it turns into a fucking commotion): I have NOTHING against Renee , ok? I think she’s pretty awesome tbh and this is for plot purposes only! Please be reminded that this is a FICTIONAL STORY, not real life!(*This is only addressed to those who aren’t mature enough to understand that difference). If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“Alright, Y/N it’s your turn” Darby said

“Again?” I whined

“C’mon, don’t be such a party pooper! Pretty please?” He begged, dramatically batting his lashes

I spun the bottle and to my surprise it landed on landed on Jon Moxley, the man I desperately had a crush on, but refused to admit it out loud

“I don’t want to play this anymore, thanks” I mumbled

“Don’t be so childish, Y/N. What’s the worst thing he can do?” Darby laughed, looking at Mox who smiled back

“She said she doesn't want to” Renee stated bitterly

“Leave her alone, she will play” Mox said to her as he looked at me

“That’s my man!” Darby patted his back “So, Y/N, what do you choose: the kiss or the question?” He asked

“The question” *I’ll be damned if I ever choose the first option* I thought bitterly

“Mox, go ahead” Darby grinned

“Hmm” Jon pretended to debate what to ask “Who in this circle would you really want to kiss, and why?” He smirked

*How does he know?* I thought to myself- and then while looking at Darby, realization hit me. I could see the fucker trying to hide a smile behind his cup. *Darby told him! Ooh I’m gonna kill you Darby!*

“I - ummm...Darby” I said quickly

“Darby?” Mox looked at me in disbelief, and I nodded

“Why?” He teased

“Because...I think he’s cute” I lied, oh so poorly

“Right” He chuckled “Of course you do”

“Alright Mox, it’s your turn” Darby cackled

Jon spun the bottle and to our surprise it landed on me, again!

*Oh God, this must be a joke* I thought

“What’s your choice: question or kiss?” The blonde man asked him

“Kiss” Those piercing blue eyes stared at me

“I don’t think this is fair, she just answered your question! Jon, spin the bottle again, please” Renee said

“He can’t do that! It stopped on Y/N, so she and Jon will play. It’s their turn” Darby spat

“It’s not fair-”

“Why? Because it didn’t stop on you?” Mox scoffed

She shot him a look that well, if looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ash, before saying “You’re not going to kiss her”

“Oh really?” He chuckled “And who’s gonna stop me? You? Please, Renee, don’t make me laugh”

“You have no right-” She began

“YOU have no right! We’re not together anymore, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want and that’s none of your damn business! What the fuck are you even doing here anyways? I didn’t invite you, Y/N didn’t invite you, nobody on this roster invited you. Just fuck off!”

“Don’t talk to me like that” She pretended to be upset

“Don’t fucking try me then!” He replied, almost screaming at this point

Renee stood up and quickly made her exit out the front door, with a heavy silence settling in as she left.

“So, where were we?” Jon suddenly asked “Oh yeah! My kiss” He looked at me and grinned

Darby laughed “C’mon Y/N, you know the rules”

Rolling my eyes I crawled towards him, and when I was close enough, he whispered quietly so only I could hear

“Yes baby, crawl to me”

Noticing my nervousness, he pointed to his cheek and I felt so relieved that I wouldn’t have to kiss him in front of everyone

I leaned forward to his cheek, and once I was close enough, he turned his head around and connected our lips in a loud smooch

I had never felt a greater urge to bury my face in the sand like I did in that moment.

“Hmmm, vanilla?” He asked, clearly referring to my chapstick flavor

“I like the taste, kitten” He said, licking his lips

And so the game went on, every time the cursed bottle landed on Jon and I he asked me questions that got more personal (or invasive) each time: ‘What was my favorite sex position?’, ‘The craziest place I’ve ever had sex?’, ‘Did I own a vibrator?’, ‘How often did I use it?’, ‘Did I like it rough?’, ‘Have I ever tried BDSM?’, ‘Was I a sub?’.

And before he could ask me any more questions, I leaned towards Darby and said I was going to one of his guest bedrooms. When he asked why, I simply lied, saying I wasn’t feeling very well. He nodded and I finally left that damned room and stupid game, leaving Jon Moxley behind me…

Or at least I thought so!

When I opened the guest bedroom door, there he was, sitting down at the foot of the bed, smirking at me

“Thought you could run away from me, little mouse?” He chuckled at my surprised face

“Unfortunately for you, it’s not that easy to fool me, sweetheart” He took slow, predatory steps towards me “You didn’t answer my last question, doll” He pushed my body against the door, making it close, he then proceeded to lock it as well

“What question?”

“Are you a sub?” He whispered to me

I gulped “I-I enjoy power play”

Jon smiled widely “I thought so” He leaned forward, deeply inhaling the bamboo scent of my conditioner “Everything about you screams submissive, the essence practically radiates from your soul” He looked into my eyes

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I shook my head

“Sex partner?” I shook my head once more

“Do you have a Dom, kitty kat?” He asked, softly running his fingers through my hair

“No” I panted

“Do you want one?” He smirked

“Yes, please, sir?”

Jon grinned, and the soft motions from his fingers were quickly replaced by a forceful grip

“You wanna have some fun, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir”

“You gonna be my good little slut?”

“Yes, sir”

“Gonna make my cock feel real good?”

“Yes, sir”

“Is that pussy going to belong to me when we’re done?”

“All yours, sir”

He smiled “Are you going to be my favorite whore of all time?”

“I hope so, sir”

One of his hands quickly wrapped around my neck, applying just enough pressure to make me feel slightly lightheaded

“Does this pretty little slut know how to suck a cock?”

I nodded

“Let’s see about that” He smirked “Take your clothes off”

When we were both naked, Jon laid down on the bed

“Come here, kitten” He cooed “Sit on my face and show me how good that mouth of yours can be”

I obliged and as soon as my core was close enough to his face, he wasted no time in devouring me

It all felt so good that I needed something in my mouth, to muffle my loud moans, so I leaned forward and began to suck him off. Thanks to the position I was in, I had the advantage of sliding him further down, without having to worry about my gag reflex.

Jon moaned around my clit, as he put two fingers in. The vibrations his humming was causing me were heavenly

“Fuck, feels so fucking good!” He said and slapped my ass “Y/N, I’m going to need you to cum right now” He said, slightly out of breath

“Yes, sir” I answered, with a string of spit still connecting me to his cock’s head

His sucking became harder and the pace of his fingers became rougher, and before I could realize it, my walls were pulsing around his fingers.

When I was down from my high, Jon quickly pinned me down on the mattress and placed himself behind me

“You sure can suck a dick” He chuckled on my ear “But how well can you take a cock, kitty cat?”

“Very well, sir”

“Oh” He laughed “That’s bold! I have high expectations now! You’re not going to disappoint me, are you Y/N?”

“No, sir”

“You better not” He teased, as he slowly entered me

“So fucking wet” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice

“Who made you this wet, baby?”

“You did, sir. You always do” I confessed

“Always? So you had thought about this before?”

“Every night, sir”

“And what do you do when those thoughts come to your mind, Y/N?” He increased his pace

“I touch myself and think about you, sir”

Jon growled “I would like to see that! Do you use your vibrator?”

“Yes, sir”

“Does it make you feel good, kitten?” He whispered

“Not as good as you do, sir”

“Great answer, sweetheart” He cackled

Placing his forearm on the back of my neck to keep me in place, Jon’s thrusting pace became almost too rough, but I was loving every second of it

“My good little whore loves cock, doesn’t she?”

I answered a muffled ‘yes, sir’

“Of course she does! Look how well she’s taking me”

“Am I stretching you good enough, baby?”

“Yes, sir”

“You’re gonna cum for me?” He asked, when he felt my walls my walls clenching tighter around him

I only moaned in response

“Cum, Y/N. Right now!”

My body followed his order, releasing it all over his length

Jon quickly pulled out, and his hot cum landed on my ass

He cleaned both of us up with a warm damp towel. Laying down by my side, he pulled me up until my head rested on his chest. That was when he placed one finger underneath my chin and tilted my head up, so he could kiss my lips in such a sweet and delicate way that made me giggle softly

“What?” He asked, with a sweet smile on his lips

“I’m sorry, the switch in you made me giggle” I laughed softly

“What change?”

“You just kissed me so softly, but were fucking me mercilessly and calling me a good little slut mere minutes before that”

“I can be soft too, you know?” He blushed a little

“Awww, you’re so sweet” I pecked his lips “But I love the rough you as well, don’t worry” I winked

“Good, because I’m a man of my word and” He shifted on the bed so he could lay down on his side “That pussy is now mine...all mine!” He growled, in a teasing way

“Yes, sir” I joked

“Wanna grab some burgers when we wake up?” He asked, pulling me closer to him and resting his forehead on mine

“I’d love to”

I smiled, falling asleep minutes after Jon’s soft snoring sounds filled up the bedroom...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#jon moxley smut #jon moxley imagine #jon moxley x reader #jon moxley fanfiction #jon moxley one shot #jon moxley #aew smut #aew #aew fanfiction #aew one shot #aew wrestling #aew imagine

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wicked-mind · 3 years

Text

Soulmates: Part Four

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate when you’re about to meet them. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Drinking, a bit of violence, traumatic family story of Y/N involving murder and awfulness, a bit of sexual tension.

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Previously

Bucky kept his palms on the counter on either side of her legs, a crooked grin appearing on his features once they were alone. Being this close to her felt right, making his heart jump slightly. Everything about her in his eyes was perfect, even the infuriating bits where she pushed away their bond. It just made it more of a cat and mouse game for Bucky and he was determined to win. He didn’t need to respond to her words, he quickly placed his hands on her hips and swooped her up from the counter, leading her legs to wrap around his waist, “I think there’s more whiskey in my room.” He breathed into her neck while carrying her down the hall towards his room. The way her skin felt on his caused fire to corse through his body and he knew he was making Y/N feel the same way. He could feel everything she was feeling, all the desire and dare he say love?

Bucky steadied Y/N as she ripped off her jeans once they made it back to his room. He helped her slip on one of his t-shirts before pulling her into his bed. He didn’t want their first time to be when she was piss-drunk, even if she was teasingly kissing his shoulder non-stop once he removed his shirt. Bucky pulled her back against his chest, nuzzling his face into her soft hair. He could feel her breathing slow, slipping back into sleep. This was something Bucky never thought he would have, and even if the way she was around him wasn’t what he expected of a soulmate, he loved all the parts that made her Y/N. Even the ones that resisted him.

Chapter Four - Gemini

When rays of sunshine broke through Bucky’s window, Y/N blinked awake when the rays touched her face. He didn’t shut his curtains and she despised the brightness of the rising sun even if it made her warm. She pulled herself out of Bucky’s grip, standing and leaving his room quietly. She rubs the side of her head as she crosses the hall and returns to her own room, locking the door behind her. Y/N let out a deep breath of relief at the darkness of her room, the curtains blocking any light that would enter. It made her comfortable being in the dark, something that had developed from being a night owl in the line of business she was in. Being in the light felt too exposed, too comfortable and that wasn’t something that Y/N ever gave into to. She liked to stay hidden, on her toes at all times. Y/N collapsed onto her bed, welcoming the sleep that took over her body once again. She was tired and still a little drunk from all the whiskey she had drank and needed to sleep it off for a while.

Bucky had felt her leave him, but let her go even though his instincts told him to follow her, stay close to her. He knew she was the type that needed space. He could feel everything about her soul. She was wild, a free spirit that despised being trapped in one place. Bucky pulled himself out of bed once he heard her door close on the other side of the hallway, a smile set on his lips as he saw the imprint of her head on the pillow. Bucky went about his usual routine, going to train, showering, eating some lunch. He didn’t disturb Y/N, knowing she was still sleeping off all the whiskey she had consumed. Eventually Natasha came out of her room and floated into the living room to find Bucky sprawled out on the couch reading a book. He watched her rub her head as if she had a small hangover and chuckled, “Long night?”

Natasha’s eyes flicked to Bucky as he spoke, “I forgot how much she could drink.” She muttered out, taking drink from the water bottle in her hands, “I was just about to go check the decryption of the card if you want to come.” She said before disappearing up some stairs. Bucky was immediately following, curious of who had brought his soulmate into his life but also who was looking for information on him. Natasha scrolled through the tablet once she made it through the briefing room, scrolling through the information from the gold card Y/N had given them, bringing it up on the big screen. The letters kept switching until a name appeared on the screen, “Oh my god.” Natasha said suddenly as she stared at the screen.

“What?” Bucky asks, not recognizing the name on the screen. He looked at Natasha who was staring at the name, shaking her head and pursing her lips together, “Nat, who is it?”

Natasha slowly tore her eyes away from the screen to look at Bucky, “We can’t let Y/N know who it is.” She said in a steady tone, “She will snap and go on a crazy murder mission. We can’t let her know.”

“Not let me know what?” Y/N said, suddenly waltzing into the briefing room, a small smile across her lips. She had found them from knowing where Bucky was through their soulmate bond. She looked freshly showered and in clean black pants with a white tank top, “Oh, I’m sorry, is this like a secret super squad meeting?” Her eyes flicker between the two before resting on the name on the screen. Her features suddenly went emotionless at the name and she froze like she was stone.

Bucky observed Y/N. Even though her face remained like stone, what she was feeling was a different story and he could feel every ounce of the sudden pain, grief, and rage that was evolving inside of her due to the name on the screen, “Y/N.” He said gently as he walked towards her, wanting to comfort her and provide her safety, “Who is it?”

Y/N looked at Bucky slowly, tearing her eyes away from the screen. She still looked like stone, even though she knew he could feel everything she was at this moment, “I gotta go.” She told him before turning on her heels and quickly leaving the room.

Bucky turned to Natasha after Y/N left the room promptly, “Natasha, who is Gemini?” He asks again in a serious tone, walking towards her. He needed the information, needing to know what caused Y/N to feel the way she did.

Natasha swallowed hard, meeting Bucky’s gaze, “It’s the name Y/N’s twin brother uses for himself. She’s never told me his real name.” She told him, “I can’t tell you anymore, Barnes. I promised her I wouldn’t. But he is very dangerous psychopath. Just give her some time.”

Y/N immediately left the facility, walking out the door as she processed the information in her mind. Her own twin brother had hired her… And she had been looking for him ever since she left the Red Room Academy, trying to hunt him down for what he put her through. She went to the only safe place she knew, Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. She practically slammed the door shut behind her, causing Weasel to hurry and grab a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and place it in her usual spot. Y/N took a seat and stared at the whiskey, her face twisting into one of anger.

“Where’s your super friends?” Weasel asks from across the bar to Y/N in a softer tone. Nobody in the bar needed to know Y/N was hanging our the good guys- that could cause some problems.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to Weasel in a glare, making him hold up his hands defensively. Her nose twitched slightly in anger, but didn’t answer his question, “Give me my key. Now!” She hissed out at him, taking the key that Weasel promptly handed to her. Y/N grabbed the bottle of whiskey and stomped up the stairs behind the bar, returning to the safe place of her room that no longer had any of her belongings. She slammed the door shut behind her, quickly locking it as well. She slipped down against the door, staring ahead into nothingness as she thought what her next moves would be to deal with her brother.

Even though Y/N had left the facility, Bucky could still feel everything she was feeling. He could feel the anger grow which made him want to be close to her to comfort her. When Y/N didn’t come back for hours, he decided he needed to track her down and he knew right where she would be. Whatever she was doing was about to be reckless and he needed to protect her. It was dark by the time he made it to Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children, and the sight he saw when he walked in wasn’t what he was expecting.

Y/N had came out of her room as darkness fell, bringing the bottle of whiskey with her. She felt herself in Bucky’s eye line, but didn’t look up to meet his gaze. She was a little busy picking fights in the bar. She was on the back of some guy twice the size of her who pried her off and slammed her onto the middle of the pool table. Y/N grabbed one of the pool cues and swung it to hit the man in the face, causing him to stumble back. She jumped off the pool table and took another swing at the man, hard enough to cause the cue to break in half and the man to fall over. Within seconds, Y/N was on top of him landing punch after punch to his face. Weasel came out from behind the bar and pried Y/N off the man before checking for a pulse, “Still alive… Not for lack of trying. No winner.” He said giving Y/N a look.

Y/N shrugged simply, “What? I wanted to win the dead pool.” She hissed out at Weasel before looking up to glance at Bucky who was leaning against the bar watching the whole ordeal with the bottle of her whiskey in his hand. She walks over and snatched the alcohol from his grasp, “What’re you doing here?” She asks him.

Bucky watched her, a small smile curving onto his lips as she spoke to him. He couldn’t help it, even when she was obviously angry it made him smile mischievously, “Figured I’d come check on you. What’s the dead pool?” He asks curiously, looking over to a chalk board that had names and odds next to it, frowning a little when he saw how many people bet against Y/N. He noted the small splatters of blood on her white tank top from the fight, causing his eyebrows to raise a little.

Y/N took a small sip from the bottle of whiskey, “It’s like a game. People make bets on who’s going to die next whether it be from a job or from just pissing somebody off.” She told him, “I’m always the one that gets bet on because I have a habit of pissing people off, but I’m still around.”

Bucky couldn’t help that his insides twisted a little at her words. Y/N played dangerous games, deadly games. She led a dangerous life and he wasn’t overly fond about it due to the fact he felt the need to protect her, “That is an awful game.” He said, taking the bottle from her and taking a swig of it.

Y/N shrugs, leaning her back against the bar, “Yeah but it’s fun. Keeps us occupied and on our toes.” She said with a small smile before looking at him, “So you’re checking-up on me? Did our soulmate bond make you do that?”

“No, doll.” Bucky replied, watching her closely, “Well, sort of. I could feel the anger and grief when you saw the name on the screen. Natasha wouldn’t tell me much other than it’s your twin brother and he’s apparently a psychopath. I’m getting the feeling he’s the one that left you that nasty scar on your hip and I wanted to see how I can help you.” He said honestly. He did want to help her, be there for there in any capacity she needed.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Bucky, feeling small bits of anger flooding through her veins as he spoke about her brother, “Yeah, I could feel you getting closer and I could also feel your curiosity.” She told him, “We are going to need more whiskey if we want to get into that story though.”

Bucky smiled at her a little, “I have a lot more bottles back at the facility, and you don’t have to pay for it.” He told her with a small lick of his lips, sneaking a hand around her waist. It was like he was the flirtatious guy he was in the 40’s, attempted to steal her heart.

“Please take her with you. She doesn’t pay for anything anyway but that’s the third fight she’s started in the last hour.” Weasel suddenly interrupted the two, “And I’m running out of pool cues.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Weasel, “I only started two. The first one was because Charlie sent me a blow job shot, so technically it’s also sort of your fault for serving it to me, Weasel. I thought you were smarter than that.” She told him, “And I’m taking this bottle with me.” She said, snatching the whiskey bottle from Bucky’s hand before looking at him, “Let’s go, lover boy.”

Bucky escorted Y/N back to the facility, promptly leading her into his room for some privacy with his hand on her waist. As they passed Natasha before going into the room, she gave Y/N a look to which Y/N gave a simple shrug. He watched as Y/N threw herself on the bed facing the ceiling, causing her shirt to rise a little enough for him to see a bit of large pink scar on her hip, “So, doll, want to talk about it?” He said, leaning against the bare desk in his room.

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, “No. But I have a feeling I probably should given he’s trying to steal information on you and how you became the Winter Soldier.” She saw him unevenly shift at the name, “Yeah, I know all about it. I read really fast and got as much information as I could when I was downloading your file.”

Bucky looked down to the floor, “Not my greatest moments. Still haunts me, keeps me up at night.” He admitted to her.

Y/N got up and passed him the whiskey bottle, “Drink.” She told him, watching him untwist the cap and taking a swig, “I know it haunts you. When my tattoo first showed up, I couldn’t sleep for days. Having nightmares that weren’t mine, feelings of guilt and dread. Something I have never felt before.” She told him honestly. After her soulmate tattoo showed up, she would have the same nightmares he had. She saw who he was as the Winter Soldier, a pawn in the middle of a war he didn’t want to be in the middle of.

“You’ve never felt guilty for the people you’ve hurt or killed?” Bucky asks curiously, wondering how that could be. He felt guilt every moment due to the hit-list Hydra made him go through and yet Y/N had never had a nightmare about the things she’s done to people when their names came across one of her gold cards.

Y/N took the whiskey bottle from him, stepping closer as she watched his face, “Nope. I was trained not to feel. Plus usually the people I’m hired to take out or threaten are really awful people. People who sex-traffic young girls, serial rapists, stalkers, political figures that are wrapped around evil’s finger. None of them are innocent and would do more harm than good without me.” She told him then took a small sip of the whiskey, “Plus most of the time it isn’t a kill job, just threaten and seriously injury so they get the message or steal information to make them fall.”

Bucky nodded slowly. She wasn’t just a straight up hitman for hire, she was taking jobs to take down the evil people. That was at least something that calmed his worries about the type of work she did, “Well, at least you take care of the bad people.” He muttered, snatching the bottle from her, “How’d you end up at the Red Room with Natasha?”

Y/N tilted her head at the question, looking around the room, “I lost everything to my twin brother when I was thirteen. Figured out a way to be trained to take care of him. That’s how I ended up there.” She said, leaving out the important details.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her short version of the story. He wanted to know her, know everything about her. Y/N brought out a protective side of him he didn’t know he had and also lit a wild side within his soul. He gently put the bottle down on the desk before placing each hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him. He lifts her shirt a little to look at the scar, “And this?” He asks softly, running his thumb against the scar.

Y/N couldn’t help the small smile on her lips at his touch, pulling her closer. She follows his gaze down to the large scar, “That is from my brother. Large hunting knife.” She informed, looking back up at his face and seeing the small amount of anger flash across his blue eyes. She sighed slightly, picking up the bottle and taking a large swig before placing it back down on the desk and meeting his curious gaze, “I used to like every other little girl. I went to school, had a big family that was full of love, even had little streamers on my bike and posters on my walls of boy bands.” She chuckles slightly at the memory, “But my twin brother, he was nothing like me. He would just stare and you could see the evil workings of his mind. There were a few accidents, as my parents liked to call them. He broke the wrist of my little sister, Brooke, when she was six and said they were playing too rough and it was an accident. He killed my cat with rat poison and blamed it on the neighbor. I could tell from the look in his eyes after each accident, he craved more violence. He never uttered an apology and looked at any of us with empathy. One night, he just snapped I guess. I could hear Brooke screaming, crying and then silence. I ran to get my parents for help but found my mom with her throat slit and my father, I don’t even know how he died. There was too much blood. I hid under their bed, listening to my little brother and older sister scream until they were silenced.” She paused, staring off as if she was stuck in the memory, “I saw the door slowly open from under the bed and held my breath, trying to be as quiet as possible. But it was like he knew I was there. He dragged me out from under the bed and I was able to get away for a moment until I fell down the stairs from running to fast. He caught up to me and stabbed me with our father’s hunting knife. I held my breath and stared at him until he thought I was dead. Then he left with a smile on his face.” She looked back to Bucky’s horrified face, “I was found by the neighbor the next morning, barely alive. I was taken to the hospital and talked to the sheriffs about what had happened and they never found him, nor believed a thirteen year old was capable of something so evil. After a few months in foster care, I ran away, not being able to take the abuse there. I was taken off the streets, kidnapped by a foreign couple that took me to the Red Room Academy and the rest you already know.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment when she finished. Y/N had been betrayed by not only a member of her family, but her twin brother. His grip on her hips tightened in anger for her but also because he felt the need to protect her now more than ever. He leaned his head down on her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered against her skin.

Y/N bit her lip at his touch, feeling his anger and need to protect her from their bond. She lifts her hands to wrap around his shoulders and behind his neck instinctively, taking a deep breath. Nobody except Natasha knew the story but she knew she could trust Bucky with the truth, “Sometimes it still feels like I’m still laying there on the floor, watching the sun rise through the window and trying to stay awake and alive.” She whispers softly. This was a side of her she thought she lost the night her twin tried to kill her, the part that wanted to trust and be loved. Her soulmate bond to Bucky pulled the truth out of her, wanting to be honest with him. Let him see all the broken and torn up pieces inside her, “Sometimes it feels like the scar still burns, like it’s an open wound I can’t get rid of telling me I should’ve died. I hate it.”

Bucky frowned at her words against her neck, picking her up by her hips and moving to lay her on the bed. He crawled on top of Y/N, looking into her eyes with his stormy blue ones, “Darling, that scar proves you are a survivor.” He whispered down to her, lifting her shirt with one hand to expose the scar. He looked down it as he traced his flesh fingers along it, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin at his touch, “It’s a part of you, and it may be a dark part of you, but it’s still something that made you who you are. And as much as I hate that you went through that, I’m also grateful it made you a strong, bad-ass woman.” He smirks at her slightly, crawling down and brushing his lips over her scar, kissing the raised skin softly. He grinned when he heard a small whimper pass her lips, “My strong, bad-ass woman. And I will spend the rest of my life kissing this scar so when you look at it, you only think of me.”

_____________________________________________________________

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Taglist: @vibraniumqueen @thatoneperson5000 @dude-whatawave @buckypops

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic series #bucky fanfic #bucky fanficiton #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x reader

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oingo233 · 4 years

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Rapture is a Boy (5)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader (Neutral)

Warning: angst, cuss words, self-doubt and self-hate, mention of cheating, lotsss of angst in this one, maybe even more than before.

Authors Note: Now, this chapter is a bit on the longer side but it is my favorite one so far. We get POV’s from Remus, you, and Sirius(excuse how much there is of Sirius, it’s not entirely intentional he just owns my heart), each filled with ANGST. And the lack of communication and the full throttle of angst is almost painful, but oh so juicy. I hope you all enjoy it, only a couple parts left, or one, until the end yall! I love you so much! Sirius POV in italics.

Word Count: 3k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part Five

****Letters To My Love****

Remus POV

Breakfast was over by the time Remus made it back to his dorm, but he didn’t leave to go to 1st period. Because on the endless and lonely walk back, his mind began to spin. He knew he wasn’t a cheat, but he was a liar. He lied to you about his being a werewolf for years because he was petrified of what you’d think of him when you found out. That you’d stop seeing his scars as beautiful stories but rather the makings of a monster.

He was more of a beast than he was a man, and for one night each month, a beast was all he became. How could you love him knowing that? Remus had yet to stop pacing the length of the boys dorm, ignoring the way little sticky notes on the walls with prank ideas came twirling down with every gust of wind Remus’s sharp turns created. He was a storm.

He repeated this thought for the better part of 1st period. How could you love him? You won’t love him, he tells himself, you never will, Lucy said it herself, he was just a disturbing truth. The thoughts made his stomach lurch. You will never love him again. These horrible, tantalizing thoughts were accompanied by beautiful moving pictures on his wall, which his eyes darted to every second despite how miserable they made him.

One picture was a large polaroid of the two of you laying on the common room floor, while your friends are all laughing around you, your arm was wrapped securely around his shoulders and he is laying his head on your chest. He was fast asleep, but a ghost of a smile was painted on his lips, your head was leaned back in laughter. While the picture moves, you only seem to laugh harder and Remus shook, his smile growing ever larger as he awoke to the sound of pure joy.

You will never love him again. With that heavy thought, and another glance at the picture he rushes to the bathroom, just in time to find the toilet, as he vomits into it. Utterly sick and riddled with anxiety and self-hate, but so much anger filled him. Why did Lucy have to ruin everything? Why did you have to leave him? Why did he have to be such a fucking monster? Why’d he have such god awful luck!

Sirius finds him in the bathroom, sobbing for not the first time that morning nor the last. Sirius rushed over to him, patting his back as he choked up extra pieces of last nights dinner. Sirius forgetting to retrieve his class book he forgot this morning, and was excused from class to quickly get. Herbology can wait, Sirius wasn’t going to spend his future with plants anyway.

“Remus, what’s wrong? What can I do?” Sirius knew it was about you, but why was he so sick? Little did Sirius know, that love and heartbreak is both the enlighting of the heart, and the sickness that plagues so many.

Remus was not immune to such poison, his strength lies elsewhere, it lies in the mornings after full moons and the steadiness of his hands before. It lies in his courage, in his determination and empathy. It lies in his silver tongue, but his strength does not belong to his heart because he gave his heart to you so long ago. And perhaps you gave him the greatest strength of all, love. Love, love, love, you gave it all to him and more. Now he was left empty and he felt it now in his stomach as much as he did in his heart.

“I am alone Sirius. I was alone in the room, then I saw our picture, (y/n) was laughing.” His voice cracked, fighting a sob. “They are the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen Pads...Pads do you think I told em’ that enough? That I love them?” Remus then turned to Sirius with the most gut dropping look of remorse, with a breath to match. Sirius nodded fervently, not sure how else to comfort a person in such a state. He rubbed circles on his back and reached for a tissue.

“Yes Moony, we all heard you say it a million times. But...Moony it isn’t over. Lucy lied to them, if you are honest -and I mean fully honest about everything- you two will be one again. Practically married again. So, gather yourself Moony. I will wait with you till the bell rings, yeah?” Sirius hands Remus the tissue and smiles down at him, trying his best to be encouraging Remus knew, it was the same smile Sirius gives him after hard full moons and the whole lot of them want to stay in bed.

But it did not work, Remus’s whole body sank into the floor as he wiped at his mouth. Sighing at the mess he was, flushing the toilet he stands.

“No. I can’t tell them-”

“Remus-”

“No! Leave it alone Sirius, you don’t understand. (y/n) deserves better than...than this this thing that I am, and will always be. This monster.” Remus throws the tissue down and storms out of the bathroom, back into the expanse of their room and now flouncing his arms around as he speaks. Voice thick with emotions. “Do you think they’ll still love me after they know the truth?” He sneers, almost laughing humorlessly to himself. Sirius stared at him in horror, still in the doorway of the bathroom.

“They’ll leave me Sirius, I would lose them twice. Twice! No,” Remus shakes his head, “Better I let them go now, I’d rather not go through this whole ordeal twice.” He motions to his vomit lined collar and messy locks. “Better (y/n) hates me for a lie, than the truth.” And that was the end of it. Remus turned his back on Sirius and began to pull clothes from his drawers, deciding that it would be best to go to second period. If he was to get over you, he must start soon.

Sirius was left speechless. Remus was angry, that was clear to see but he was often the only one who could get himself out of these ruts of self-hate. Him and you of course. So Sirius got his almost twice forgotten book and left. Before he left the room completely he turned in the doorway to say something to Remus, but he only watched as Remus softly tore the photos of you off of his wall, Sirius shut his mouth and left.

Your POV

The bell to second period rang through loud and clear, yet it wasn’t until the movements of the students around me, rushing to be free from History of Magic, that I began to move myself. Even then my movements were slow, sluggish and reflected the droopy feeling of my heart hanging loose in my chest. Like a portrait hanging sideways on one of the hallways, knocked loose by a groping couple, but my heart was knocked loose my the image of Lucy and Remus I’ve spun up in my head. Oh, I can just picture them together, so clearly.

His large hands roaming the plains of her back after making love, tracing words mindlessly as he has once done to me. His lips glued sleepily into the crook of her neck, as they cuddled after a long school day...just as he once did to me. It’s only been a day but my fingers are twitching to cling onto his and never let go. To hug and grip him, and my lips...well they tingle at just the thought of his kiss. My whole body abuzz with the idea of Remus, it has not yet caught up with my head, it does not yet seem to realize that Remus is no longer ours to hold and feel. He is no longer mine.

I finish packing all of my belongings into my satchel and hug it to myself instead of around my shoulder and waist like I usually have it. I thought this class would be much harder than it was, considering it is the only one I have with Remus today, but he never even showed. Coward, the bitter side of me thought, fucking coward. But I nonetheless picked out double the pages of parchment, and never once raised my head from the block of wood that is my desk. I was too focused on taking double the notes, both just copies of one another.

Now, as I walk out the door, not missing the way our professor seemed to pity the sullen look on my usual bright face, my only thought is on finding Sirius. Things have been tense between me and all The Marauders, but I like to think Sirius and I, though on very tense terms since our fight, are more amiable than James or Peter and I.

I was knocked off focus, and quite literally, by a blushing first year girl. “M’ sorry,” She mumbles, looking up at me like a scared mouse. I quickly glance up just in time to catch the retreating figure of a running Lucy, knocking even more people along the way.

“S’ alright, wasn’t you,” I smile sweetly at her and that seems to calm her nerves, she walks off with a little smile. But I was left with a rather large frown, was Lucy off to see her boyfriend, Remus? Is that what they are now? The thought made me sick, and the words made me even sicker. But there was little time to dwell when in the dwindling crowd I caught sight of a tall man with the messiest bun I have ever seen. Yet, Sirius pulled it off, I almost wanted to roll my eyes, he can pull many hairstyles off (many of which, I myself can not).

“Sirius!” I call, flapping a stack of paper in the air while trying to make my way through the crowd and towards him. He tells some friends of his from 1st period to go ahead, and waits for me with a tight smile.

“(y/n),” He greets, rather stiff. As if this whole thing was my fault, and we didn’t just have our whole friendship break through last night.

Sirius was staring down at you, soaking in the sadness of your eyes and the exhaustion shown through crinkles on your forehead. He took quick notice of the wrinkles in your outfit, and the totally clashing colors of the clothes underneath your robes. He wanted to frown, usually your outfits are well put together. But then again, Remus stormed off in his pajamas this morning, guess heartbreak makes you do even crazier things than love itself. But either way, Sirius felt awful after your argument last night and was having a rather difficult time expressing his emotions, so instead of apologizing like he knew he should, your presence just made him feel uncomfortable. A reminder of how he failed both his mates when it came to this whole breaking up thing. He regard the stack of papers with a raised brow.

I shove the papers into his chest, he cups them stiffly with one hand, peering down at them quickly and titling his head down at me in a frown.

“(y/n)...” He starts, but I cut him off.

“Before you start Sirius, you should know that Remus missed a very important class this morning,” I say, rocking on my heels and oddly nervous. A person can only take so much rejection and emotion in one day.

“But...why? If you think he cheated on you, I mean,” Sirius uncomfortably held the papers, waiting for me to respond. But I drew up blanks, why did I write him notes? Why did I go through the trouble of writing till my hand ached and protested? Was it because I still loved him? Yes, but also it was the way I dreamt last night of our first kiss and then the way he stumbled up the stairs with James, crying. It was guilt. But then I was angry, fuck this, I think, he doesn’t deserve to pass History, prat should re-take the whole boring class ten-fold!

“Nevermind Pads, just give them back,” I growl, tearing the papers from his hands and nearly ripping them. But then the wind seemed to remind me of how it is the season of the N.E.W.T.S and Remus so long ago said that maybe History of Magic will aide him in his test. I growl again and shove the papers back into a surprised, and quite frankly annoyed Sirius. His chest was really starting to hurt.

“No, you must take them. Give them to him...” I can’t bring myself to look at Sirius, oh what he must think of me. Such a silly girl to tend to Remus after all that he has done to me.

Sirius glanced down at the papers, your handwriting clear as day and neat. You clearly tried to make it easy to read, and the notes were well taken, informative. He looked between you and the papers and fought a smile. Even a blind fool could see how much you still adored Remus, but then he thought back to the conversation he had with Remus this morning. His heart overcame with something that felt all too much like real, physical pain. Sirius hands began to shake, how could Remus let you go. You’re one of the best things that happened him. Then another thought occurred to him, how was Remus to get out of the dorm again, or even smile again after reading your notes? It would break his heart all over again.

Sirius shook his head at me, placing the papers into my hand and ignoring the dumbfounded look on my face. “Merlin (y/n), are you trying to bloody kill him?” He says, addressing my notes and the sweetness behind the gesture. Perhaps it was too soon. But I was prepared.

“Oh, shove off it Sirius. My name isn’t even on the parchment, he won’t know it’s from me. Just say ya got a friend to take ‘em for him, yeah?” Sirius still looked uncomfortable by the matter. I cut him off before he even began, I could see him thinking. “Don’t want him failing N.E.W.T.S do ya?” Sirius takes a deep breath and tucks his lips in a disapproving frown wordlessly taking the papers and stuffing them in his bag.

“ave’ a good one!” He calls over his shoulder, almost wincing as he spoke, it was second nature to call such a thing in parting with a friend, but he was unsure of your friendship at the moment, and it was quite clear you weren’t going to have a good day. He turned to you with a tight smile, and loosened up at your own large smile. You finding the situation with an almost bitter sense of humor but humor nonetheless, he thinks to himself “good lad.”

The both of you part ways, reminiscing on easier times and missing them dearly.

Remus POV

Remus sat in his bed to study, which none of the boys do because they’ll fall asleep, and they usually did it together on the floor in a heap of papers, books, and spilled ink. But tonight Remus grew rather somber as Sirius handed him a collection of notes from 1st period. “aye, a friend wrote em’ for you. N.E.W.T.S comin’ up n all.” Sirius muttered, slowly placing them atop Remus’s chest, not looking him in the eye. Remus sat up in his bed to examine the papers, his hands shaking and crinkly the edge. He knew.

He quickly grabbed his parchment, and book, quill and ink before closing his bed curtains. He then proceeded to cuss and scream(more of a groan) under his breath. Of course he knew the notes were from you, it was silly of you to assume he wouldn’t. He long ago memorized every curve and line in your handwriting. Why did you have to care about him still? Why did you have to be so sweet and perfect? His heart wanted to run away to you, but he tried to focus on other things. But his mind went back to you once again, like a broken record. He remembers all the letters you’d write him, all the things you’d say.

He first memorized your handwriting over the summer after first year. He got several letters from James and Sirius, one or two from Peter, and one every 2 weeks from you. You adored hand written letters, and so he came to love them too. Then again 2nd year, then 3rd and 4th your owl came to his window time and time again, always sent off with a letter of his own writing. But 5th year, the year you two started dating, your friendly letters changed to love letters and it was those ones he clipped to his wall or kept in a special drawer, never throwing out one.

On particularly difficult nights, like ones before and after a full moon, when his body was drained and he was desperate for the warmth of friends and the dull ache to leave his body, he would pull out the letters his friends wrote him and read them. Then he’d pull out every love later you sent him and read it. He’d walk over to his bed and re-read them a million times, relaxing into his comforter and sighing with the memories of you that overcame him with each word like tidal waves. He’d hug them to his chest, then pull the next one out to read, all with the softest smile.

His pain long forgotten, he’d fall into a peaceful slumber with parchment and letter sprawled all around him. All greeted with...

My love,

And all signed with...

All my love to you,

(y/n)

Remus traced over your handwriting and hugged the notes under his chin and deep into his chest. As if they would become apart of him, and in that way you will always be with him. But you were, you were everything to him. I won’t part from my love, he thinks, my love is apart of me.

He decided then, that he would do anything in this world to win your affection back. He would bare his soul naked to you, just for the word “love” to slip from your lips and into his being. He was no longer afraid of your rejection, he just craved the chance to see what you would do, of what good could come from his truth unfolding itself before you. He craved your acceptance of all that he was, and above all he craved for you to love him once again.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess @1975weasley @nicodoesntexist @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain @yoyoitsbella @ftwert @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @blackpinkdolan @holdenviolet @katie-lupin05

#remus lupin #young remus imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #young remus lupin x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter #harry potter fandom #angst #sirius black #remus lupin fic #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #young marauders #young remus x reader #remus angst #romance

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Chapter Three

Hiiii, all you cool cats and kittens 😂😂😂😂. Okay but seriously, imma just word vomit all the things I need to cover in this author’s note — that I can remember.

I’ve been writing this chapter for like a week, I’m super nervous about it, I’m really sorry if this angst is upsetting you, I am gonna do my best to make it all right in the end, the angst is gonna continue though for a bit longer, yes this fic is only 10 chapters, yes I still want your comments even if you’re upset, my eye is still having trouble so I can’t look at a computer screen for too long because it physically hurts so I’m editing on my phone and there is a high chance I’ll re-edit these chapters after my eye isn’t all Heltor Skeltor anymore.

Okay I think that’s everything, I very much am gratefully for all the feedback I’ve received and I hope you all continue to read this fic.

Peeta stayed for hours after that. He smiled and laughed and, for a while, made me forget all about my unbearable loneliness, how empty this home feels, how uncomfortable I am with the prospect of my mother moving on with her life, how much I really miss my sister right now.

How I miss my sister more than anything.

He still makes me feel safe, I realized, as we sat on the couch and ate our third helping of the chocolate cake he’d baked for me. He knows how much I love chocolate from all the meals we shared on the train.

“Actually, from the time you decided to just eat the chocolate fountain by itself,” he had corrected. Off my quizzical look, he added, “At Snow mansion? We were there for a party?”

“Our engagement party?” I amended, teasing him a little.

My attempt at levity works as I watch his mouth contort into smirk in response. “Sorry, I guess I forgot what party it was.”

“They did drag us to a lot of them,” I agreed, not foreseeing the jab he was about to throw.

“And you pigged out at every one of them.”

I pretended to be offended for a moment but his proud laughter made me lose the facade far sooner than I should have. The joyful glint to his gaze, the way his body language was relaxed and open, the way he seemed to remember small details of our shared past now, I just couldn’t hold even a false grudge against him. I just couldn’t help giggling alongside him.

But he had to leave around dinner time, having an appointment to get the construction for the new rebuilt bakery approved and in motion.

As soon as he departs, and I’m left once again inside a void, hallow house that only emphasizes the greatest loss of my life—the one I’ll probably never go a single day without feeling the ache of—I decide I need to leave too. I decide as soon as I glance around the empty place that it’d be in my best interest to get out as well, to prolong the inevitable despair the deserted home brings come nightfall.

My first thought is to drop off the liquor I picked up for Haymitch a few days ago at the train station. He was passed out drunk and I was already there and it seemed at the time like a good bargaining chip when he was feeling particularly caustic towards me. Which lately had been often.

Now it just poses a good excuse to go talk to the sour man, to perhaps pick his brain about Bailey Robyn. To perhaps see what he knows that I don’t about the mysterious girl who blew into both our lives.

And only evidently disturbed one of them.

He has clearly has gotten to know her better than I have, and he’s quite transparently taken quite a liking to her. If I want to know this girl, or even begin to understand what Peeta sees in her, it only makes sense to get Haymitch to share some details in exchange for his favorite liquor.

After all, our entire relationship has always been a series of bargains, one way or another.

Throughout mine and Peeta’s entire time together—which amounted to the whole afternoon—he had never once mentioned Bailey. He hadn’t said she was waiting for him or what she thought about the cake or if she even knew he would be at my house today.

And for some reason that led me to assume she was busy in town somewhere. That she was working on the salon she mentioned wanting to start up, that she was out doing things herself, that she wasn’t even concerned with Peeta celebrating my birthday today.

That she wasn’t sitting on Haymitch’s counter, talking to him about that very subject.

“It just doesn’t make me feel great, you know?” Her clear and high voice rings out from the window right as I’m gearing up to barge my way inside the pig sty. “I want to go with him, in case he has an episode or something, and he tells me no. Like flat out, full stop, no.”

I slip in through the unlocked front door, quiet as a mouse, eavesdropping like I know I shouldn’t. Like I know is a complete violation of privacy, both for Bailey and for Haymitch. And maybe even Peeta, since he’s the one they’re conferring about.

“He’s stubborn,” Haymitch agrees, sounding more sober than I’ve heard him in months. Sounding more sober than I’ve seen since we were in Thirteen. “Try mentoring him in the games.”

Bailey scoffs at that. “No. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

They share a laugh and I feel my hands tighten around the bottle, as an extremely uncomfortable sensation settles into the pit of my stomach.

They sound like old friends. They sound happy and pleased to be hanging out and conversing. And if I’m being honest, it gives me one more reason to instinctively dislike Bailey, despite the fact that I’m trying hard not to.

Because in the short time she’s been in Twelve, she’s slid into my place in both Peeta and Haymitch’s lives with complete and utter ease. Even beyond taking my place, she’s outrankedme in both men’s lives and entirely knocked me out of the saddle.

That’s what disturbs me above all else. Because—even though I’d never admit it about Haymitch—they were mine. They were my family. They were all I had. They were my haven from the darkness surrounding my entire life. The three of us were a team once.

And now it feels like she didn’t join the group, she kicked me out of it entirely. Haymitch has never had me sit on the counter of his kitchen—not that I really wanted to, the place is absolutely filthy—and talk about my problems. He’s always mocked my feelings and troubles, when they didn’t pertain to the war or rebellion.

I don’t get what is so special about this girl that the two most important people in my life are willing to just let her in. Are just willing to let her take me out without a second thought.

“I mean, is it odd that I wanted to be included?” She inquires genuinely and to my surprise, once again, my old mentor gives her a pretty thoughtful answer. For Haymitch Abernathy, at least.

“They’re both a little weird. War messes with people. Especially kids,” he murmurs and then grunts uncomfortably. “Don’t get worked up over nothing. Just let whatever happened go and try to be happy.”

For some reason, even without hearing my name mention specifically, I’m fully convinced that they’re conversing about me as well as Peeta. About our afternoon together, void from Bailey’s presence. Without hearing my own name, I still know in my bones I walked in on a talk about me.

Bailey wanted to come today and Peeta told her no? Peeta told her an unequivocal no? Because he wanted to spend time with just me?

That satisfies me beyond measure. That makes me even happier than the carefully handcrafted birthday cake did.

Suddenly, for the first time since she’s arrived in Twelve, I don’t feel like Peeta put me on the back burner to make her more comfortable. I don’t feel like I’m being slided so she can be accommodated to her liking. And that’s a better present to me than anything else I could have asked for.

“But I’m his girlfriend,” she states quietly, before sighing deeply and setting down a glass that she must have been drinking from. Risk-taker, she is. “And I just feel like every day all he thinks about is Katniss. He’s either worried about her or afraid of her.”

Now that catches me completely off-guard. Peeta’s afraid of me? Is he telling Bailey something I don’t know? What did I do that he’s so afraid of?

Please, I internally beg to no one. Please tell me he doesn’t still think of me as a mutt. Please tell me he doesn’t feel the same way about as he did in Thirteen.

No, I venomously refute. That wouldn’t make sense. If he still thought of me that way—the way Snow tried to brainwash him into—he would surely not be baking me a cake and spending an afternoon alone with me.

At least, I don’t think so.

But I’m always wrong nowadays and I long ago learned to stop trusting my instincts because they don’t any good for me in the end anyway and I just end up more jumbled and confused and stressed than I started out.

I take a deep breath to calm myself down just as Haymitch mutters, “That description isn’t a far cry from the kid I met two years ago on the tribute train.”

Evidently, I breathed out too loudly almost immediately, Haymitch barks out, “Is that you, girl?”

Realizing I’m caught, I rip off the bandaid and step out of the corner of the entryway, where I was hiding. “Sorry, I just got here,” I quickly explain. And then, despite my atrocious acting ability, I throw out for good measure, “I didn’t hear anything you guys said, I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Neither of them believe me. In fact, they both appear pretty disgusted with me now. But when I pass Haymitch the bottle of liquor, his features shift and I feel him lightly pat me on the head as he passes me to grab a bottle opener.

“Haymitch,” Bailey murmurs unceremoniously, as she hops off the counter with a grace I have no dream of ever possessing. “I’m going to head on home.”

Her eyes meet mine for a split second before flirting away, and all I see there is irritation.

I hope she doesn’t try again to make nice in a day or so. Quite frankly, there’s a reason I never made many friends. Social interactions aren’t my thing and they just wear me out unnecessarily. Especially girls, who only want to gossip about other people or share clothes or irrelevant life tips. I’d much rather be left alone in solitude than have to yo-yo with Bailey’s mood swings.

Haymitch has always empathized with this trait of mine. More than empathized. He embodied it to the fullest, in a way I never even have. That’s what makes it so startling to me that he’s found such a friend with Peeta’s new girlfriend. It’s downright shocking how pleasant he is towards her.

When he returns now, she’s already gone and he’s right back to his surly self.

“No one clears a room like you do, sweetheart.”

But I’m not interested in swiping back and forth with one another. “Why are you hanging out with Bailey Robyn?”

Haymitch rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at his still unwashed kitchen table.

I mean, if Bailey wanted to help clean in here, that’s where I would have suggested to start.

“The better question, Katniss, is why are youhanging out with Peeta alone? How do you think that makes his girlfriend feel?”

“He’s my friend,” I argue, infuriated by the implication that I have to go through a random stranger to be around Peeta now. Infuriated that it’s Haymitch making the implication nonetheless.

“But he isn’t!” The old man snaps back. “Peeta isn’t your friend, Katniss. You look at him like he hung the moon and you do it right in front of his new girl.”

“No, I don’t,” I retort sharply, because I definitely don’tand I repel the accusation.

“Anyone with eyes can see your stupid little crush,” he exclaims and it stings. The words sting for some reason and I feel the ache in my chest come back once again, because apparently I’m stepping over a line I didn’t even know was there and I’m once again the root of every problem and it’s all becoming too much.

Evidently, Haymitch just doesn’t care if he hurts me today. “Just back off of the boy. Let him be happy for once.”

I uncharacteristically spit an unkind name at Haymitch as I slam his door in my furious wake.

Through his still open kitchen window though, I hear him chuckle. “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before, sweetheart.”

Read More On AO3 Where The Italics Actually Work

#everlark #thg #hunger games #everlark fic #my writing #dancing on my own 💔👸🏼✨#fic #fanfic #creative writing #idk what else to tag

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your-fuccked-up-dad-volume61 · 10 days

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You're in her DMs, I'm plotting the murder of every other man who's ever looked at her. 🔪🌹

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worldsover · 4 years

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No More Drowning ft. Olivia Hye

length ✦ 7138

genres ✧ drunk hookup; outercourse; roommate!Olivia

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Perspiration deluges your white Taekwondo uniform. You make it fit loose so that it doesn’t stick to your skin. A refreshing breeze now annoys you as it whistles through your damn window that never sealed completely shut. At least you didn't need to turn on a fan today.

“Hey Captain,” you greet the commander of none. Hyejoo lies on a small blue couch, the only pristine spot in the living room. Her outfit suggests that there would be the usual cool air expected of the season but the fall is humid and stuck in the climate of a couple months past. It’s incredible that there is not a bead of sweat formed on her face. You study her and somehow she’s handsome in your eyes which is probably not a word others would use to describe the stunning woman reclining with her feet up.

“Wassup,” she says.

“You gonna-”

“Clean up? Yeah, yeah, lemme finish this round.”

Her face is welded to her screen though her eyes dart around maybe holding a hint of remorse at the clothes that litter the cramped living space and the dishes in the sink.

“I’m not an impostor! Ahhh!” Hyejoo shouts into the screen. Certainly none of her actions follow through on that guilt.

“How'd this even happen? You got pyjamas on the floor, shirts on the chairs. You a camgirl or something?"

"I'm a camgirl? I can see your tits dude.” Cover your pectoral cleavage in faux shame. ”Yo, I swear I just saw green-"

"And all these energy drinks? Come on Hyejoo, no way your heart lasts more than a year.”

“Wow, meanie.”

You look at your watch. “It’s like 9:40.”

“Shit, right, the marketing test.” Hyejoo’s fingers show no pretense that she’ll stop playing. She definitely didn't see your disapproving face. “Oh relax, I still got time,” she says anyway.

Finally, she looks up at you and her brows crease. “What?” you ask.

"You look good today."

Your heart floats just a little. You always appreciate the little compliments she gives. They were just ones that friends, good friends, would say but you’ll take anything to keep you going. Well, it’s enough to get you to clean up for her again.

“It’s gonna be a long shower by the way.” She giggles and you step over empty cans and bottles when you walk to the bathroom.

“No prob, I’m heading out soon,” Hyejoo says.

“Sure you are.”

Her exaggerated yawn seems not so exaggerated by how she stretches her entire being before putting her phone away.

“Oh, soon means now. How long’s it going to take?” you say.

She shrugs her shoulders. “One, two? I dunno.”

In a rush to get all her supplies in her bag, a series of metallic clangs sound out when finished beverages fall over like dominoes.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry about that, I really am. I can buy you lunch if you want something?” Hyejoo starts picking up a few of them to set aside in the corner and you help her.

“Nah, I’ll still be in the shower by then.”

Hyejoo scoffs. “If I'm addicted to caffeine, you're addicted to water. A sandwich sound good?”

“Yeah sure. I got a lot on my mind, Captain.”

“That include me?” A dismissive puff of air exits your lips. No, no way. She walks up to smell your uniform. Your acute awareness of her distance or lack thereof causes you to ignore her pupils' subtle drift downwards.

“You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

"Get to your shower stinky."

You wave Hyejoo off then enter the bathroom. The scurry of little steps and a slam from the front door echo the whole apartment. Never any privacy in here. These sounds give way to the jet engine of your shower with its pressure betraying the bargain rate of your rent. Soap washes away your muscles' ache and the sun’s beating on your skin. It's been unusually warm since the leaves turned brown. Water builds up in the tub.

Something's not adding up. There it is again. That plunging in your heart. Sparring always helps a bit after your early morning manual labor carrying bags of sand. However, it does not stop the resurfacing of your every mistake as there's nothing but your mind in the shower. You don't have a plan and your future is void because money and work hours kill you as much as school. You're not even getting all the wages you earn and there's nothing you can do about it. Past choices bubble up in that unkind way. The cup fills and clear blue liquid engulfs you.

Lift yourself out the tub to catch a breath that you don't deserve. Deliberate respirations do nothing to slow down your heart rate. The only thing that can is a captain. You could wander the ocean on a raft with her alone but you have no idea if she felt even close to the same. Maybe she's just the most important friend you've ever had. Light from the small window hits the tiled floor. Unplug the drain. Right, you left your clothes in your room so wrap yourself with a green towel you find hanging from the doorknob.

Shit! There's not a mouse in sight but you shriek like there is one when Hyejoo materializes in the confined kitchen. Hyejoo expresses no surprise herself as she sits cross legged on the miniature wooden dining table playing yet another mobile game. Laundry baskets and garbage bags hold all the previous mess. Your surprise at her appearance transforms into surprise for her proactiveness. You want to give her thanks but no words escape your lips.

"You gonna put on some clothes? Perv. That’s my towel too."

Your hands push off invisible blame. The hands of the wall clock reads five minutes before noon. "Woah, woah, wait a sec. What happened to the midterm?"

"Walked out in the middle of it. Couldn’t deal. Dropped."

"Wait, what about the refund?"

"Sunk cost dude.” Hyejoo sniffs a wide white shirt hanging from a chair next to her. “This yours or mine? Ehh, it's clean either way."

You catch the shirt and smell it. A little vanilla. It's hers. “Thanks Captain.”

“Even sniffing it? Really a perv.” You almost forget a single piece of fabric separates full exposure of your genitals but the realization makes you blush anyway.

“Nah, you smelled it first and. Whoever smelt it, dealt it.”

“That’s not what that saying means.” Hyejoo gets up from her awkward seat.

Incredible how many new ways she can throw you off like when she bumps into you with her eyes are still on her phone. Hyejoo's clumsiness will be your death as the towel slips down and hangs solely from your half erect dick. Cool, you're just a clothing rack now. She turns you around with one hand and snatches the large shirt with the other. Your bare moon is in full view.

"You gonna put this on or just stand there?" she says with no qualms about the absurd sight of your newly cleansed rear. You scramble to wrap the towel tightly around you to tame your erection but there's no way she hasn't noticed by now.

"Y- yep, I, I will do that, for sure." Turn back around and take the shirt to put it on carefully. It’d be oversized for her but it fits you snug. Your ears must have joined your cheek’s redness because your nipples poke through the thin white fabric.

Hyejoo takes a single glance away from her screen at your makeshift towel skirt and laughs. "Actually, you look cute like that. Just keep the towel on, it's less to clean."

Wide-eyed, you say, "What if ahjumma barges in?"

"What if? Whatever, no fun." She sticks her tongue out then gets comfortable on the couch while her diligent and nimble fingers peck at the screen.

Return to the restroom and deal with your erection before it becomes a problem. You’ve seen hints of her comely body before and it helps you undress her layered attire in your imagination. Instead of the black button-up long sleeve and track pants she wore just moments ago, you picture a crop top, her hair tied up and white panties, and it's that latter image that affixes to your mind. On a particularly balmy day, Hyejoo wore only her underwear because she had nothing else to do but game and it hasn't stopped plaguing your fantasies ever since. Your hands are Hyejoo’s, soft and loving just for a moment.

"You taking another shower in there or what?" Hyejoo shouts, “I’d definitely hear from here!”

Reality smacks you in the face. She had no fear of you, no worry that you’d take advantage of her. Were you even a man? Stop your jerking and get up.

Open the bathroom door absentmindedly and thump. It smacks her head. You don’t even think about why she was standing right next to the door, instead sweeping aside her hair from her face. Red doesn’t come from where you hit her.

Simultaneously, you and Hyejoo say, “You okay?”

“Um, I’m, look-”

Her blush grows but she interrupts your blabbering, “I didn’t hear you respond and thought you, uh, died in there or something.”

Nearly reached la petite mort if that counted but instead you say, “No, I just. Had a lot to consider.”

“Sure.” You’ve never seen her this flustered since it’s enough for her to scurry back to her room. Hopefully things wouldn’t be too awkward.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“I fucking hate you!” Hyejoo yells.

“Oh yeah? Same!” you retort, probably too loud.

Her tone goes down. “Were those the lines?”

“Ehh, as long as we get the gist of the argument down.”

Hyejoo and you stand on the stairway up to your rooftop apartment in your rehearsed spots. She looks a little confused on how to start what she wants to start but you poke at her when you see the landlady walking towards the stairs.

“Chill out!” she yelps.

“Chill out, you’re telling me to chill out?"

"Seriously, oppa," that's about as strained as a human can say a word, "You’re such a slob!”

“Shut up, look at me straight in the eyes and tell me you’re not just as bad,” you say, trying not to laugh but Hyejoo’s punch knocks the wind out of you. Your pain is only half acting. Her sympathetic look does nothing to soothe you.

"Ya!" The elderly woman interrupts and forces you two apart. “That’s enough! I get you’re cousins but even I don’t fight this badly with my family.”

Hyejoo whips her pupils towards you as though to ask the same question you had, if you sold the illusion too hard.

“I get that living with your kin is tough but at the very least, no murders on my property. Not until one of you graduates.” The old lady squints and turns to each of you saying, “Promise me. No hitting. Not in my sight.”

You nod then Hyejoo’s sigh becomes an assenting nod when the landlady smacks her wrist nearly black and blue. Satisfied at her hard work reconciling family matters, she walks back down her stairs to do her usual wandering around the neighborhood. Hyejoo and you take a second to stretch and relax.

“Ha. Do as I say, not as I do,” Hyejoo says as you both sit on the concrete steps.

You caress your tender rib. “Or don't do at all. Ow. You wanna be a Youtuber? They do boxing and gaming, and you'd kill doing both." Hyejoo's laugh is rich and all that it takes for you to forgive her. You exhale. "Hopefully that gets her off our backs for a while.”

“How do you even manage Taekwondo? You’re so fragile and-" Her sentence is interrupted when she looks at your built arms.

"No way they hit as hard as you, Captain." You miss her carnal look when you close your eyes and think about the nickname that you aimlessly threw out one day.

She stands up. Your eyes violently spread open at her “Kya!” Hyejoo’s fighting stance and shouts masquerading kihaps are totally off. As much as Hyejoo could kill you, a Taekwondo fighter since your childhood, she could also be incredibly cute too.

You tsk. "All that power and no technique."

Hyejoo sits back down none the more ashamed and scratches her head. "You think it would’ve been easier if we came clean?”

“Ahjumma could never allow two strangers to live co-ed. No way. I’m still surprised you came up with that so quickly.”

“It just came out so naturally, oppa!” she says in a deriding high pitch. “Yeah right I ever call you that again.”

Ring ring. You answer the call and Hyejoo's quizzical stare turns concerned at your breathlessness from the words that drill into your ear. They slam, they crash and their volume could break your eardrums even though they’re said as calmly as possible. The hole in your raft grows bigger and leaks more so even when you reach the abandoned shore, you're marooned.

"Fuck, fuck, god."

Sprint for the next bus. Pay no heed to the girl chasing you. Dammit, this can't be happening. Every problem gets fucking magnified because you can't have anything good and if you did, never could it last for more than a goddamn millisecond. You embark on the most anxious ride of your life even though you already know exactly what's going to happen. Transfer buses. The skyscrapers hover over you and gloat about how you’ll never enter their doors. Asphalt and glass swelter you when they reflect radiation down the sky. Your skin hurts. You get off the bus and arrive at the headquarters of the construction company. At the front of the building stands your boss.

Slap. "Did you not get the message? Were you under a tunnel?"

You get on your knees and bow. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"No one else is going to hire a goddamn delinquent like you."

"Please. I thought you understood." You nearly prostrate yourself

"I have no idea what you're talking about. There's a lot of assault on your record."

You stop yourself from blurting out that you fucking know. Defending yourself from bullies is assault? He already knew this was bullshit since that's why he hired you in the first place but now he's backtracking like a rat.

"I'll do anything to work here." He shakes his head while you hold back a tear. "Please. Just. Just tell me why?"

"You got greedy."

"Greedy?" You raise your head and then your tone. "Getting paid for the work that I do is greed?"

"You're on your knees and wanna talk back? Get out."

Bang. A closing door. Your head slumps back down and not a single person on the bus would misunderstand your emotions. You take the longest way home, unsure if you even deserve to go back. Any time, you could give up. Ponder your choices. Never going to get a job again. Never going to school. Never will have a chance to learn or a chance to improve. Never going to have money and never will have a place to live. Never going to see Hyejoo again. You have to give up.

One missed phone call from your polar opposite. She can do so much better. The longest way home turns longer when it goes straight to the sea as you decide to live life as a fisherman with your uncles. You were always invited. You wasted your time in the city. There's no stress here.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

There's no happiness either. Weeks passed even though only days passed. That’s life on the water. Everything spins. Fortunately, you manage to keep your stomach in not wanting to inconvenience the bus driver, the only other person in the vehicle.

You look at your watch as you near Hyejoo's home. She must be asleep by now but you carry each foot heavily when you walk up the steps anyway. Apologies, excuses and petitions that you wrote in your head blank away when you open the door when you see a woman asleep on the couch with earbuds on. Her unconscious head bounces to a slow rhythm. Your lungs fail your mouth's movements to form words because of all that creamy skin covered only by a green towel that creates an outline of her captivating curves. Hyejoo's legs beg to be licked and her collarbones direct your gaze to the bulging flesh poking from the top of the towel with her nipples an inch from your sight. Any other day and you’d ravage her on the spot. Stupid brain tells you to leave and stupid you follows.

You're outside when you hear Hyejoo say, "Hey! Motherfucker, where'd you go you son of a bitch?"

She steps out with no regard to her state of dress and you spin around watching for any witness. You notice her hold back when she hits you but her consecutive punches send a message anyway as each strike punctuates her words, "What, makes you think, you can worry me, like that?"

"Woah, you should. You should get back inside your house," your voice breaks and you back away.

"Hold on now, you're really about to go? Like this?" Hyejoo says.

"You. You look busy. I have to go."

"I'm sorry, I was just messing around with you. Come on, you're really telling me-" She notices your tumultuous expression and sighs. “Fuck it, we'll worry about it tomorrow. First of all, come in. With me. Into our home.”

You follow her into her apartment. She quickly returns from her room in a simple white tee and red gym shorts revealing the supple shape of her ass.

“I'm not gonna ask, okay? Tell you what. When you have a problem, the only answer is late night soju, beer and?” she says.

“Chicken, it’s gotta be. Come on, I see the bones right there.” You point to the countertop dishes. “I’m surprised this place isn’t messier."

"I can handle myself, thank you very much. And that. That was leftover, dry, sober chicken. We're going to munch down on that good crispy skin and we're doing it goddamn wasted." You can't help but match her smile, more radiant and genuine than yours.

Hyejoo pulls out all the alcohol from the small fridge while you call for delivery before both of you step outside the home. It’s night but the heat would make you believe the moon disguises the sun with how it shines on the green roof. What a weird fall. Only the trees remind you of the season. A short plastic table as the only furniture easily moved outside means that you’d have to sit close together on the floor, not that you minded.

Her silence confuses you but she becomes her usual self after you both down glasses of mixed beer and soju and especially after she sees the delivery man bringing an absurd amount of plastic bags for two people.

“Let’s. Go!” she shouts sloppily.

The poor worker looks at you so you give him a knowing nod and point to the beer and soju cans strewn about. His thumbs up as he walks away beguiles you. You look at Hyejoo and realize all the cleavage she’s showing with the shirt she chose. It's as revealing as the towel she wore earlier. Did she not put on a bra? Stand up quickly and search for the guy but his motorcycle revs and he’s already out of sight. That fucker probably saw something he shouldn’t have. You’re never gonna order from that chicken spot again. You bite angrily into the spicy crispy wing. Alright, maybe you just won’t order at this hour or whenever that dude works. Hyejoo chows down with drumsticks on each hand and it’s clear she’s responsible for a majority of the finished carcasses. The stains on her shirt would not make her look any less goddamn cute.

“Cheers!” Glasses clink. How many drinks, how many, burp, were you down? She burps too, you burp together. It’s funny. There was a lot of conversation but it slips you.

"I said I wouldn't talk about it, but Doyun and Michael, worried sick. They came here, everything.” Hyejoo garbles her words.

"Just ‘cause I don't show up to the club for a few days?"

"I'm telling you, a lot of people care. For you. I know I do."

It’s been a while since you started your little escape. All the food’s gone. You’re more sober now. You swear. The nighttime is so comfortable that Hyejoo brings out her blanket to lay on, along with a spoon and a watermelon.

"You're gonna have to wash this later," you say.

“Alright fine. Don't. Don’t rest yourself besides a pretty lady.“ Stab. ”On a perfect starry night.” Stab. “And don’t have some of this delicious watermelon."

One more stab at the watermelon she splits it open. Her devilish look suggests she might do the same to your rib cage if you don’t acquiesce. Lie down next to Hyejoo on the flimsy layer of cloth. You share pieces of the fruit and notice water spilling down her mouth. Definitely sober by now. She’s maybe half a meter away.

"Starry's a strong word to use.” You twirl your finger at the scarce lights in the black backdrop. “Lady too with the way you eat-" She playfully covers your mouth and flicks your forehead.

You don't know when your laughter and banter slow down, or when you start inching closer to her. It doesn't matter.

“Fishing is boring. They make it look all dramatic on shows and you’re just waiting. The night sky’s much clearer though.”

“You gotta. When you do something like that, gotta lemme join in at least.”

“You’re really fine on going on a trip with a man, alone, faraway on the sea?”

“If it’s you.”

“I don’t count, not much of a man at all. I just run away from shit and-”

"Shhh,” she shushes you loudly. “You can count on me.” Hyejoo says and you don’t let her voice project into empty space.

“I will.” It sounds a little forced from you.

“You will,“ she sounds so sure of herself, ”you’ll be okay.”

Your head lays in her neck. A finger in a cup, breaking surface tension so a drop escapes past the rim. You have no outdated sentiments on displaying emotion but you held back often pretending your tenacity was as strong as your body. Not this time. Your cup overflows.

Only moonlight refracts on your tears and Hyejoo wipes them away. You have no idea what she’s thinking as she gazes into the few stars visible in the city. Turn on your side and Hyejoo does likewise to face you then puts a couple of fingers in your hair. Cup her face in return and it wears many emotions, such as impishness, meekness at a few times, and an often impenetrable focus, but above all it’s the standard for beauty in how it assumes no blemish. Her triangle mouth is distinct, welcoming, but you hesitate. Her minute sugary fragrance overwhelms the variety of smells in the air. Crickets and distant occasional traffic. Hyejoo’s head tilts forward then places her lips light on yours and your world is silent. Your heart’s pulse slows so it doesn't interrupt.

“Captain,” you exhale out when she finally retreats her mouth. The name sounds ridiculous in this setting. “Ma’am?”

“Whatever sounds right to you,” she yields, though the subdued caresses on the definition of your arms, and less subtle grabs on your black shirt, convey that she’s in charge even if it’s a gentle direction. "Just Hyejoo is fine."

It's like she’s teaching you how to spar for the first time though neither of you are virgins. Hyejoo gives another kiss then turns you recumbent. You could not and would not stop her now especially when she straddles your denim covered thighs. Take off your shirt and her hands rush to aid you.

“But I’d prefer we don’t think at all.” Is she drooling?

“That’s what got me into trouble. Thoughtlessness.” Your eyes somehow wander away from the woman and her sumptuous yet clothed ass grinding on you.

“What do you think of me?

“Huh?” you say and your eyes snap back to her.

The underside of her shorts warm your groin. “I said, what do you think of me?”

“I think, ugh,” her weight striking a sensitivity in your pants makes you moan, “I think, you’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

“What a player. Well, that’s all you need to think.” Hyejoo rocks back and forth. “Fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lay your hands on her hips and Hyejoo takes your right one, lifting herself just enough to let your dick breathe.

“Why do you need that hand?” you say.

“Feel this.” She takes your hand to knead the thin cloth under her mound and you feel just the tiniest hint of moisture build on your palm.

Pull away to take a base whiff of your slippery fingers. It’ll be a new addiction. The smell of alcohol and the most delicious fried chicken in the world couldn’t compare.

"It's been like this around you since the day we met." Hyejoo bends down and etches every word of the confession into your eardrums, her tone even raspier. "This is all for you."

“Really?” You give her a peck and it turns frisky when tongues join the mix and teeth nibble at lips.

“Mhm.” Her lips vibrate on yours. Hyejoo gropes your crotch over your jeans. “I know it's going to be perfect.” She unzips and pulls down your pants to your knees. You take them off your legs completely and she searches for your wallet.

"I just lost my job and you're gonna rob me?" She breaks her serious character with a snicker. You sniffle and your mood lightens, “And how’d you know I had a condom in there?”

“Just had a feeling.” She winks.

Not an implausible cold reading but you can't count out the possibility of her snooping through your personal effects. You don't mind her proclivities this time. Hyejoo traces your every muscle’s curve with her index and middle finger and focuses especially around your pecs.

“I have to concede. I love these muscles of yours. Ever since that first day I met you at the open house. Maybe I’m just a simple woman.”

“Simplicity is sophistication.” Her fingers draw a line down your torso.

"Indeed. But I'm most interested in this hunk of meat right," she frees your cock from its confines, "Here." Hyejoo licks her lips.

“How is it?”

You’re already hard but Hyejoo's hands deftly work your shaft stiffer. “It’s so thick and this vein right here. It’ll hit just right.”

"Fuck, Hyejoo," you utter when she spits a little on your cock before she unrolls the condom on your erection. Hyejoo slips aside her shorts.

You don't get a view of her pussy with how she sprawls herself on top of you, but the slickness of her lips and the warmth that she emanates from between her legs immerses your senses enough. The missionary with her on top lets her control by the way she guides your cock and presses down on you.

“Oh god, I was right, fuuck,” Hyejoo proclaims when she sinks herself carefully into you and, on the next bounce, smacks her butt right into your waist. Her snugness clenches and quakes on your cock. Willowy arms share a similar hold of your body when she embraces you. You need her as badly as she needs you. You take heavy breaths, especially through your nose. Even her sweat is so alluring. The velvet texture that surrounds you keeps taut on your dick no matter how forcefully she rides herself on top of you. Squelches and quiet moans to a higher power pepper the warm night air.

Hyejoo removes her shirt and slings it away before bowing back down to lick your ears "God, your tits are perfect," you say even though your hands squeeze her buttcheeks in time to her thrusts. Her perky breasts recoil back and forth as they rub your chest while hard nipples juxtapose their softness.

No chance someone would come up to this little rooftop at this hour or have a good view though your cheeks flush at the thought. What if you had extra chicken coming? Or what if the landlady decided to check in on you two late at night? What if-

Hyejoo nudges her forehead against yours. She knows your habits. Your worried face is too familiar for her not to react so she nuzzles your neck and surrounds you with kisses.

Her husky voice vibrates your whole face. "Just focus on me." She makes out with you before her tongue dips into every crevice of your face the same way your cock does in her pink pussy.

Your dick slips out for a second and you take the time to admire her beauty and your fortune.

“Telling me not to drown and you’re going to inundate me,” you say in between her smooches, "With all these kisses."

“Well. Mwah.” Another peck. "You're so delectable.”

“So I’m just chicken to you then.” This deep kiss is probably to shut you up. You’re fine with that.

Regret on her mouth that she pulls away from you. One of you rips off her shorts, the last piece of clothing obstructing you two from total symmetry. Who cares who sees. You’re both fully naked with not a woe for the surrounding world. Delicate hands splayed across your upper body grasp tightly and again, your pecs get particular attention while she fondles your nipples.

She adjusts her back straight up and now she’s on her knees seated on your erection. The cowgirl stance allows her to find a new cusp of your cock head inside her. Hyejoo gyrates on you and you notice the understated lubrication of her pussy begins to overpower everything else in existence. Her musk vaguely reminds you of the ocean while its pheromones have you just as wobbly. It’s enough that, even though you're on your back, you have to hold her waist to avoid keeling over. Nails dig into your chest.

“God, yes, you, your cock, everything, just fuck into me.”

Hyejoo relaxes her body weight and relinquishes the rhythm to you. Pick up a new wind in your sails when you hear her gasp as you pinch her nipples. The momentum has you use all your stamina as though your rigorous fitness had one culminating purpose. You would make Hyejoo cum with only your cock. Rotate and circle your pelvis in pursuit of her most tender spot and an uncharacteristic high pitched wail confirms the location of the treasure. It’s difficult holding yourself up to reach the sensitive wall but she realizes your shared interest.

“That’s, that’s the spot. When I touch myself and think of you, it’s right there, fuck, it’s right there.” There’s no speed or power in your movement, only deliberate jabs and graceful nudges at the softest flesh. Sure it’s work, but damn did you get paid for it since she somehow sops even more between her thighs. Truly the reciprocating delight of friction and silkiness on your dick’s tip is worth it. Your name mixes profanities and wet slapping noises as Hyejoo bucks her hips in climax. Prized juices cascade all over your lap. Her highest vocalizations pierce your ears and her pussy tries its best to milk you but Hyejoo keeps as still as she can to hold your cock’s ideal positioning. Smear the fluids that coat her thighs slick with your hands and lick at your fingers, thirsty like you’re stranded.

Those thighs, by smothering your cock and removing your condom, soothe the pangs of when you pull out. Hyejoo is still in her cowgirl position reeling from her climax and her contorted face is yet more polished than any art you’ve consumed.

Seize the opportunity. Bend your dick forward. The topside of your shaft now rubs on her well-formed ass cheeks, moisturized by the wetness on your cock. Its cradle is different from her pussy's with perfect round cushions in her buns and a tight asshole that greets and tempts your shaft every time you thrust. It’s a siren call you’d have to answer another day. Fucking her bare buttcheeks satisfies you plenty enough.

She lifts up to let your erection return to its idle upward stance and you fuck her thighs in response. Her labia gnaws away at the bottom of your shaft and it begs you to shove it back in especially with how its liquor intoxicates your dick. You don’t forfeit, already overwhelmed by the thickness of her legs and her saliva dribbling from her mouth to help her juices. Hyejoo squirms as you repeat fucking her ass cheeks and fucking her thighs, and it makes the both of you feel heady. Alcohol and lack of sleep would probably do that too.

“Please. Hyejoo,” you implore, flexing your cock to scrape by her pussy lips.

“You want to?” She teases your bare tip but even just the spread of her satin pink on your head makes you shoot just a little. “I. I dunno.”

“Can we?”

“No.” You regret your loud sigh and feel selfish since you already had more satisfaction than one man could ever experience in his life. ”No, not no. No, as in no thinking.”

Plunge back into her wetness. Your cycle in and out continues with you eager to make her climax a second time. Maybe it’s the third time? The only thing you can recall is that this round, you can feel every corner of her pussy on your shaft tensing and relaxing without the latex protection. All of everything is a blur. Hyejoo could be clutching and ogling your muscles. She might be kissing your neck or maybe she’s bobbing up and down to show off her tits and her tummy. God, that midriff would look perfect coated in your cum. You could live forever with Hyejoo mounted on your cock and riding. A ringtone interrupts forever once again. It’s from that number. What was that number? Fuck it, no thinking. Her bouncing tits hypnotize you away from substantiality.

She snaps her fingers. “Hey! Hey. This is, fuck that feels so good, god your cock is just right. Ah fuck, I really think you should answer that.” You take an eternity to slow your boat. Hyejoo points to your phone on the table next to you. Work. She’s right. Both of you take a second to stabilize your breathing. Try to push her off but she refuses, shifting her mass onto your lap and keeping her pussy’s hold tight and warm on you.

“Really?” You groan, “You’re the one who told me to answer it.”

“It’s so late and they haven’t stopped calling.” She rests her head on your chest and yawns. “Your cock is sooo big in me. Don’t even need to move.”

Channel your practice silently jerking off to keep your cool though years of doing that couldn’t prepare you for this. Your hands certainly tried but never could imitate her pussy’s plush tightness. Really wish you didn’t have to but finally, you answer your phone after minutes of ringing. The voice on the other side mumbles a greeting. Didn’t expect to hear him. “Joonho. Why the fuck are you calling now?”

“It’s me! Joonho.”

“Yeah, I know. The hell you calling for?”

“Now that’s no way to speak to your boss, is it?”

“Huh?”

“I said that’s no way to speak.”

“I got that!”

“Hyung. That asshole, management fired him.”

“You telling me-”

“Yeah, they caught him stealing.”

“How the fuck?”

“Dude got too big for his britches and aimed up with his theft too. Mr. Son really didn’t like that shit.”

You cheer in your head. It wakes up the girl resting on you. Guess that wasn’t in your head. “Fuck man.”

"I know right. Fuck him!" You're not on speaker but Hyejoo must’ve heard him say that. You massage your ringing ear.

“Ow. But thank you. Seriously, it’s so late. You could’ve called me tomorrow.”

“I’m drunk as shit man. Sounds like you are too.” You don’t even realize how much you’re slurring your words. “Should I pull up, maybe we drink a little more?”

Stare at the woman still holding your cock in place, fluttering her lashes at you. Hyejoo mouths if you’re gonna take much longer. “I. I don’t think I will. We’ll have to meet up some other time, okay?”

Understanding that you’re winding down your call, she gets back upright and starts bouncing again. “You gonna pass out or something?” Joonho says.

“Something like that” Hyejoo teasingly drops her waist into you and waits, then lifts herself. You purse your lips. “Listen, ah.” And again. Purposeful slams into your cock too loud not to be picked up by a phone. “God. I gotta go, I’ll text you again tomorrow aight goodbye,” you rush your words.

She holds her hair up in pleasure and her profane cries let everyone living below know that you’re fucking the most gorgeous girl with more energy than you’ve ever had. For all the pressure on your sensitive nerves, it’s that image of Hyejoo satisfying her need with your cock that brings you closer.

“I’m almost there! Fuck, fuck.” You pull out and despite her drowsiness, Hyejoo diligently takes your dick with both hands, scoots back and bends down, slobbering on it with her mouth while her fingers stroke the skin of your shaft.

Hyejoo’s lips pop when she releases your cock’s tip. “Where do you wanna-”

“Those fucking perfect abs,” you shudder.

She takes advantage of your previous thrusts’ zeal on her thighs and repositions herself in cowgirl one last time to bend back and choke your cock with her toned legs. One single motion is all it takes. A tsunami and a storm clash. Didn’t remind her that you hadn’t cum at all away at sea as you explode. You call out, “Hyejoo, god, yes, fuck, Hyejoo, yes,” at every wave of pleasure. Shove desperately and Hyejoo’s eyes grow big at how much semen streams out of your slit because the volume of cum nearly rivals the fluid she ejected from her wetness. Her inner thighs, her lap and her stomach all soak in stickiness. She holds onto your arms as she finds enjoyment not only from your cock’s throbbing on her clit, but at your biceps and other curves. An inquisitive pinky takes a sample of your cum to lick up then, to your surprise, she collects all the cum she can with both hands and swallows it down.

“Ahh,” she presents her tongue to you.

Finally, you sit up and no amount of exhaustion would stop you from nibbling her neck as thanks.

“Relax, you hungry beast. You just came all over me and now you’re trying to tell the world we just fucked.” She gives you a little suck on your lips instead.

“I don’t mind.” You clash at her mouth and your teeth click. She smiles and gives you a deep but final smooch. Both of you breathe stiltedly and take time to readjust into the world once again.

“Me neither, if I didn’t have a presentation tomorrow.”

You fall back and feel everything aching in a good way. “Ah shit, school.”

“What did I tell you earlier?”

“Hmm?”

Hyejoo falls flat next to you and clasps her hands into yours. “You will be okay. I called them with an excuse. Speaking of which. You’re gonna find out sooner or later that a certain cool as fuck girl blew the whistle on that son of a bitch.”

This whole thing feels like it should be temporary, like a one-time thing. Any more and it’d be weird, yet her confidence makes you reroute all that anxious energy in your heart’s pace into something good. It’s not love but, “Thanks. I just. Thank you.”

“You are always welcome.” Her lips curl up.

“So. You a snitch now, huh?"

"Relax,” she hisses the end of the word. ”Maybe I snooped through the construction company records, maybe I didn’t. You didn’t hear from me, ‘kay?" She nudges your side with her elbow.

“Hey!” You laugh a little, ticklish in that spot. “Okay, okay. How’d you manage that anyway?”

“Joonho didn’t mention it? Well, I have my connections,” Hyejoo says.

You breathe out and you deserve it. “You really are the Captain.”

“Damn right. Guess you’re stuck on this boat a little.” Yawn. “Longer.” Her eyelids slowly descend.

Watch Hyejoo fall asleep and realize she’s nude and still a little sticky. You decide to make a smart decision just once by putting away all the garbage in your apartment. She giggles reflexively when you clean her up and you struggle but manage to put on her previous outfit.

After you get dressed yourself, you lie next to Hyejoo and watch the few lights in the sky all distanced from each other. You feel a little reticent but the old lady shouldn’t fret if the outdoors is a better bedroom for one night. Close your eyes. Drift away into the best sleep you’ve ever had even if it’s only you and a blanket separate the hard concrete rooftop from the atmosphere. Dreams of water are gracious for once. The ocean lacks bounds and you smile for it. Who cares about tomorrow? It’s made of sticks and rope fashioned from whatever bamboo you could find but the raft holds two. That’s all you need.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"A college roommate scenario where the male reader is living with LOONA's Olivia Hye and she's attracted to him sexually since he moved in due to his physique. Then one day, he got home all stressed and the two hooked up eventually." - @optimisticwritersworld

AFF, AO3

Pretty sure this was supposed to be all casual but then I started adding to explain the co-ed living scenario and the stress, so here we are. Watch out for more LOONA though no promises on timelines

#kpop smut #loona smut #request #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

From Eden: Two

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Yo, so here’s part 2! I hope you all enjoy. As before, there is a transcript at the end for anyone having issues with the images.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

I called Dr. Tisha this morning. I told her about the neighbour. She said it was nice of him to help with the garden but ignored me when I mentioned the broken gate. I don’t know if she believed me. It didn’t seem like it.

She’s coming by tomorrow to check on my progress. That means I can’t keep those magazines on the dining table anymore. The last time she made me throw half of them out. She didn’t listen when I told her some were so old they were priceless. Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t listen to me at all. Well, what do I pay her to do then?

I haven’t been back outside. I should water the garden as it’s only getting hotter but I don’t appreciate the unwanted audience. An intruder!

Later

I still haven’t found the courage to venture out. I made sure the bike lock was still in place from the front door. It is. Though, if that man’s metal hand could break the old lock, it will likely shred the chain lock.

Thinking about it makes my heart race. I should go lay down. I’m dizzy and the humidity is making me sick to my stomach. Or maybe it’s something else.

Monday

Dr. Tisha came by early today.

I showed Dr. Tisha where I kept my medicine in the bathroom cabinet, the pills divided into the days. I check off each day on the calendar so I don’t forget either. She said that was good. The last time she was here, it was because I’d stopped taking the pills so I hope this made her happy.

Then she walked through the house, she said she was happy to see the top of the table this time. I laughed but it wasn’t really funny. Then she went to the kitchen and checked all the drawers.

She found some books hidden under the sink and asked if I’d ever read them. I mean to but haven’t yet. She took them to the guest room where she found the bins of books stacked in the corner. Better than last time when they were a pile on the carpet.

She said I have too many things. Too many things that aren’t mine. She says it’s okay to be sad about grandma but that holding onto all her stuff won’t bring her back. Like I don’t know that! I do know! But she left me these things so yes, they are mine.

Then we went to grandma’s old room. It’s the same as it was. As it’s always been. Dr. Tisha frowned and went to my room next.

She asked me about the broken bed frame. I told her it was nothing. I made sure to replace the duvet I’d dragged out the couch to sleep without threat of rolling onto the floor in my sleep. Not that I sleep very much.

She opened my closet and found the magazines. That didn’t impress her either.

We had tea in the kitchen and talked. She asked me how I was feeling. About side effects and all that. Besides the occasional bout of nausea and vivid dreams, I’m fine. She agrees.

Then she asked about the tall shelf of vinyls in the living room. Which one is my favourite? I told her the old Vera Lynn record reminded me of grandma and it was still on the needle.

Then we argued. She wants me to get rid of the ones I don’t listen to. And the magazines in my closet! And she wants me to go through all the books, too.

She also suggested that I think about redecorating. I told her I didn’t want to do any of that. I like the house the way it is. Who is it hurting if I have a few extra books laying around?

She calmed me down after I raised my voice. She made me count my breaths and explained that I don’t have to get rid of everything, just a little. She says it would help with my progress. And, she said, I could probably make a healthy profit off a yard sale.

Well, I don’t care about the money, I don’t want to have a sale. I don’t want to deal with people and them thumbing through grandma’s thing for pennies.

Dr. Tisha said she’ll make some signs and we’ll have the sale on Saturday. My task for the week is to decide what to sell and prices. We argued again but not very long.

When she left, I started crying. Everywhere I look, I see grandma and this place is empty enough without her.

Tuesday

Lorena showed up today.

I gave her my list, it wasn’t very long. She asked about the bike lock and I asked if she could stop by the hardware store and get a new mechanism. She asked me if I even knew how to fix it. I said I’d figure it out.

I told her about Dr. Tisha’s idea for the yard sale. She said it was a great idea. I still don’t agree but she offered to help me sort through the guest room. I shrugged and asked her how long she’d be at the store. She said the usual and left.

I waited by the door. I watched the front gate for her return. She had the combination to the bike lock now and could let herself in. I just wanted her to come back and drop everything off so I could be alone.

When she did return, she wasn’t alone. I saw her at the gate, fumbling with the lock. As the gate shifted open, a metal arm reached past her to push it all the way. The man held a paper bag in his other arm as Lorena carried the other.

He was smiling as he spoke to her and let her pass. He followed her to the door and he saw me before I could back away from the slated window in the door.

“Open up,” Lorena called as she tapped the door.

I didn’t know what else to do but open the door. When I did she handed me her bag and reached for the one the man held.

“Sorry, but… I can’t let you inside.” She said glumly. “But thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He glanced past her and I tried to hide behind her but he’s taller than her. He’s very big up close. “You have a great day. Both of you.”

“You, too.” Lorena said and he strode away.

When the gate clattered closed I waited until I was sure he was gone. I dropped my bag and rushed to check the lock. He’d secured it. Good.

I went back to the house and locked the door too. Lorena already had both bags on the table.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” She said as she unpacked the groceries. “He was just helping me so I figured--”

“You shouldn’t have let him in.” I told her.

“He was only in the yard. He didn’t come into the house.”

“I could have helped you.” I said.

“When’s the last time you went past the gate?” She asked as she pulled out a small plastic bag and slid it across to me. It was the new lock. “That should fit, if you can figure it out.”

“That’s not the point, Lor,” You slapped the table. “You let him into my space. A stranger!”

“He’s your neighbour. I’ve talked to Dr. Tisha and you know you’re supposed to be working on your socialising. This yard sale will be a good first step.”

“This yard sale is bull shit,” I was so angry I could have yelled. “I like being alone. I like it here. This is my home and these are my things!”

“Calm down.” She set down the carton of milk and neared me. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve asked before I let him past the gate.”

I felt so tired. Suddenly weak, like the air had been let out of me. I felt bad for being so mad with her after she went all the way to town for me.

“I’m sorry I got upset.”

She forgave me and I forgave her. She convinced me to fill one bin for the sale before the end of the day. She left shortly after. Her and Shelby are going to see a movie. I’m watching one too. An old black and white movie Grandma had on her shelf of cassettes. It’s interesting but the edges are fuzzy and the audio is muffled.

Oh, well, I’m tired. And I’ll be sleeping on the couch anyway.

Wednesday

I tried to fix the lock today. I haven’t been outside that long since last week. The garden needs to be watered.

I took out grandma’s old toolbox, the tools half-rusted but intact. I got what was left of the old lock off easily but the new one was more of a task to get in. I had to open the gate to get it in. The holes for the screw were off-kilter but I couldn’t turn the lock enough to get them to line up.

Then he showed up. That man. Bucky. The lock slipped out as he scared me and my screw driver hit my shoe. My toe still hurts.

“You need some help?” He asked.

I shook my head and tried to close the gate on him but he was already picking up the mechanism and screwdriver.

“I can do it.” I sound like a dying mouse. I reached for the lock but he didn’t even seem to notice. “Hold the door steady and I’ll just--”

“I can do it myself,” I said louder but he still didn’t seem to hear me. Or chose not to.

He reached around the gate and pulled it closer to him. I grabbed the bars and he slid the lock into place. His metal fingers shifted it and aligned the holes.

“Do you have the screws?” He asked.

I found the box on the bunch of rocks just beside the gate. I handed him each long screw and he easily twisted them into place.

“There ya go,” He gave the screwdriver back and smiled.

I closed the gate, as good as pushing him out of the yard. He let me but looked confused. I took the key from the box and slid it in the slot. I turned it and the click slowed my racing heart.

“I still don’t know your name,” He said.

I didn’t tell him and left him there. You think he’d get the clue.

Thursday

It’s not even 5am. I woke up in a sweat. The fan is dead and the house has grown stolid, even as the night air slips through the open window.

I thought I’d closed it more but it is wide open and the power is out. There is an eerie silence as the buzz of the fridge is entirely gone and the house is pitch black.

I swear I saw something move in the window. Maybe a bird?

I tried to get back to sleep but it’s too hot. I guess I’ll just sit and wait for the sun to rise. It’s already starting to.

I want to go out in the garden today. I just hope that man doesn’t bother me again. I hope the lock is still in place.

Friday

Well, yesterday was fine. The power came back on at noon as I watered the garden and trimmed some overgrown plants. The freesias had grown despite my neglect.

Today was just as boring. I read at the patio table for a while but then the phone started ringing. Dr. Tisha was checking in. She said she put the signs up yesterday and hoped the turn out would be good. She asked me how much I got done. I lied and said a lot.

Now I’m going to go sort through the guest room and toss a few records on top to get her off my back. I guess I’ll just have to hide under the table tomorrow.

Saturday

Everytime I think I’m doing better, it all goes so bad!

Dr. Tisha and Lorena arrived early to set up the yard sale. They unfolded a table just inside the gate, leaving it wide open, and helped me arrange everything on top of it. I was nervous and tired. I didn’t sleep very much.

I waited nervously and the first customer showed up. Gladys, an old friend of Grandma’s. She bought an old pin cushion and the Miles Davis record. I should have kept that.

I watched mostly as Dr. Tisha and Lorena took the money and helped people, both familiar and not.

Dr. Tisha made me introduce myself to them at least. I hated it but they were mostly friendly. A woman with two children, I think she said her name was Essie? She said she liked my shirt. That was nice.

But then he showed up! I ignored him at first as he played with the ornamental cowbell. He took that and a few records from the table. He didn’t even seem to notice Dr. Tisha or Lorena as he came to me.

I kept my head down as I lined up the thimbles beside the painted sewing box.

“How much for the records?” He asked.

I didn’t say anything and went to the other end of the table. He followed and I turned back and went back to the other end again. He followed me. Again.

“Now,” Tisha stopped me. “What are you doing? He asked you a question.”

I looked up and blinked dumbly. “What? I didn’t-- I was--”

“Bucky,” Lorena greeted him as she neared. “Tisha, this is the neighbour who helped with the groceries the other day.”

“Oh, hello,” She held out her hand as she blocked me from getting away. “I’m Tisha.”

She introduced me then and told me like a child to say hello. I did, quietly.

“Are you… the one who gave her the flowers?” Tisha asked.

“I did.” He smiled. “But I guess she already has enough.”

“She’s shy,” Tisha lowered her voice. “She’s working on it. Now,” she turned to me, “how much do you want for the records… and bell?”

I didn’t know what to say. The man watched me and I felt as if I would melt.

“Come on.” Tisha poked me. “We talked about this, right? This is your sale.”

“Ten dollars each,” I doubled the price. “And twenty for the bell.”

“That’s a bit pricey,” Lorena said. I shrugged.

“Sounds fair to me,” The man took out his wallet as he leaned the record on the table beneath the bell and used his leg to keep it from falling. “I’ve never listened to these bands before and I’m trying to expand my library.”

He held out the money. Tisha had to elbow me to get me to take it. I snatched it from him and counted it. Another elbow as Lorena kept me from turning away.

“Thank you,” I said to him.

“I hope you enjoy the records,” Tisha offered gently before she pulled me aside.

She took me closer to the house as Lorena watched the table. She lowered her voice. “What’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I lied.

“Nothing? Why were you so rude to him?”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him.” She insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

“Look, I know you’re uneasy around men, but he was nice. And he’s your neighbour. You’ll be seeing a lot of him so I think you should at least try to be friendly. And remember what I said about friends?”

“My only friend is dead.”

I was so upset I ran inside. And now I’m locked in my room, waiting for them all to just go away.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #from eden #agoraphobia #mcu #marvel

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voidofwords · 3 years

Text

hopelessly devoted

here’s a short wlw story i wrote! ngl i came up with everything, including the characters, as i went, but i ended up pretty happy with it!

Her grin is so bright when she looks at me. “Syd,” she says, beaming. “You won’t believe it!”

He said yes. I smile at her and tell the sinking feeling in my stomach to fuck off. ��What?” I ask, with as much excitement as I can muster.

Jasmine turns her phone screen towards me so I can see the messages between her and Brandon, but she’s waving the phone around excitedly and it’s impossible to even get a glimpse of what the messages say. Fortunately for me, and I would like my sarcasm here to be noted, she is kind enough to also tell me the news herself:

“He said yes!” She squeals, grabbing me by the arm and shaking my whole body. “Brandon said yes to go on a date with me! I’m going on a date with Brandon.”

For a moment, my brain is so fixated on the fact that Jasmine is touching my arm, it forgets how to do anything else. But I manage to kick it back into action and plaster on my most convincing I’m-so-happy-for-you-and-not-at-all-screaming-inside smile. “Jas, that’s great! That’s amazing!”

She nods eagerly, her deep brown eyes looking into mine. “You have to help me prepare for the date. I don’t even know what to wear!”

That actually makes me grin for real. “Come on, Jas, we both know you have way better style than me.”

She giggles and shakes her head. “Shut up, I love your whole, like, tomboy thing. Your style is amazing. But I just meant I want you there for emotional support.”

“Oh. Right.” Did Jasmine just tell me she loves my style? I am fighting so fucking hard to keep my brain from going into overdrive. I try to smile, but I think it’s more of a grimace. “Of course I’ll be there,” I tell her. “That’s what friends are for.”

I don’t want to move. I don't want to get up. The alarm on my phone went off five minutes ago to let me know it was time to go to Jasmine’s house, but I think I might just lie here forever. What’s the point? She probably won’t even care if I come. She’ll be too fixated on her date with Brandon later to even notice if I’m there or not.

Brandon is popular and has abs and is apparently super hot and charming - I don’t get it, but sure - and I’m just Syd, the tragic gay idiot, in love with my best friend. If this was a movie, Jasmine would be the main character. Of course she would. And I’d be the edgy queer-coded friend who’s mostly there for comic relief and emotional support. My life is a fucking joke.

Because I might as well give the merciless gods watching my tragedy unfold something to laugh about, and because I’d be an asshole if I stood up my best friend right before her big date, I get up. There’s no point wallowing in my self-pity any more than necessary.

Jasmine’s arms are around me the second she opens the door. It’s a signature Jasmine hug, tight and squeezy and enthusiastic, the kind that leaves me out of breath for more than one reason.

“Syd! I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come.” She takes a step back and looks at me with her puppy-like eyes and I ask myself how the hell I’m going to get through today.

I shoot her what I hope looks like an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I’m here!” I take in her worn-in sweatpants and oversized Mickey Mouse t-shirt. She still looks fucking amazing - this girl could literally wear anything and still look like a goddess - but I highly doubt this is what she’s planning on wearing for her date with Brandon.

“I take it you haven’t found out what to wear yet,” I say. “Or is the date more of a Disney-themed pyjama party?”

That makes her laugh. “No you silly goose! Brandon is taking me to dinner, and then to see a movie.” She takes my hand, and I freeze up as she pulls me inside the house and toward her room. “I need your input on what to wear.”

“You’d probably be better off without it, you know.” I smile as I imagine Brandon’s face if Jasmine showed up to their date in my battered jeans and too-big flannel. But I quickly chase the image away, because the thought of Jasmine wearing my clothes is too much to handle right now.

Jasmine picks up two dresses from her bed and holds them both out to me. “Which one do you like the best?”

I have seen her in both of them before, but they’re usually what she wears around her older conservative family members, not when she is out having fun. Both of them are very modest, while still being pretty.

“What happened to the other ones?” I ask, because I know her favourite dress is either the sleeveless floral one or the cute flowy one.

Jasmine shrugs and smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Brandon texted me saying he doesn’t want me wearing anything too revealing, since we’ll be out in public.”

What the fuck. “Brandon is telling you what to wear?”

“No. He’s just giving me some pointers on what not to wear!”

I stare at Jasmine, who is still smiling like she actually thinks this is fine. “Jasmine, that’s still shitty behavior. He doesn’t have the right to do that!”

She shrugs again. “It’s fine. I don’t mind! It narrows down my choices, and you know it’s hard for me to decide what to wear. Besides, I like these dresses too!”

“Jas.” I sigh. “Are you sure you wanna go out with this guy?”

Jasmine laughs, as if in disbelief. “What? Of course I do! It’s Brandon.”

“I just…” I’m definitely overstepping here, but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t get what you see in him.”

“Oh, well, you know. He’s handsome and funny and… popular and…” She trails off for a second before looking up at me. For once she isn’t smiling. “I just like him, okay? I’m sorry your standards are so impossibly high. I’ve never even seen you express interest in a guy!”

Is she kidding me right now? “I don’t…” Now it’s my turn to be speechless.

Jasmine sighs, like she is giving up on me, and picks up one of the dresses again. “I’ll just go with this one.”

I’m worried she will change in front of me like we did when we were younger, but she goes to the bathroom to change. Thank fuck; there’s only so much I can handle in one day.

When she comes back out, her brilliant smile is back. Her eyes look a little red, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s because she has been crying. I open my mouth to say something but before I can, she spins around to show off her dress.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.” It is nice, of course it is, that’s not the problem. The problem is, it isn’t the kind of thing I know Jasmine likes to wear. But this time, I don’t say anything.

She grabs a box of her nicest makeup stuff and sits on the bed. “Will you help me with my makeup?”

“You want my help with your makeup?” I let out a laugh. “Jas.” I know how to do makeup decently, but I never wear it, so I don’t have anything close to the kind of practice she has.

“Syd.” She laughs too. “It’ll be fun! Just like old times!”

That is true. When we were kids, Jasmine used to “borrow” her mom’s makeup, and we would take turns making each other look “beautiful”. It was a disaster, but the best kind.

“Alright,” I say. “But I hope Brandon won’t be upset when you show up to the date with lipstick smeared across your face like a clown.”

I sit down on the bed with her and help her pick out what I think would look good with her dress.

It goes smoothly, until I have to do her eyeliner.

“This is a bit tricky,” I say, moving closer. “Please don’t be mad if I do a bad job.”

“I’m sure you’re doing a great job, Syd.” She smiles with her eyes still closed.

“Stop talking, I’m trying to concentrate.”

By some miracle, I manage to make it look good and symmetrical. I’m actually kind of proud of myself. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

But I’m not prepared for when she actually does, and I realize how little space there suddenly is between us.

Our faces are so close I can smell her minty breath. Her eyes are locked with mine, and I have officially forgotten how to breathe. I think time might have stopped, just for us. And then, she fucking looks at my lips. There’s no mistaking it. She is looking right at my lips, with her own slightly parted.

And that’s when I make the stupid, idiotic, wonderful mistake of kissing her. Fucking hell, it may be a mistake but it’s the best one I’ve ever made. Her lips are so, so soft. Holy shit. Is this how I die? Am I actually going to die kissing Jasmine? I think I’m okay with that. I think that is how I want to go.

But before I even have time to register what a bad idea this is, she breaks the kiss and moves away from me on the bed. She is staring at me with a mix of shock and betrayal. Well, shit. She reaches up to touch her lips, like she can’t quite believe they were actually touching mine just a moment before. “Why would you do that?” she whispers, her brown eyes as puppy-like as ever. Though this time, it’s more like a puppy that has been kicked by its owner.

“I… I don’t know,” I choke out. “Fuck. Jasmine-”

She shakes her head and stands up abruptly. “I have to go.” Her voice is shaky. “My date is waiting.”

Fuck this shit. Fuck the universe and fuck Brandon and most of all, fuck me and my lack of impulse control.

I have successfully ruined everything. Yay. Not only have i completely screwed up my relationship with my only real friend, I have also probably ruined her date with the guy she likes.

At this point, all I can do about it is go outside and touch some grass. There is an old park in our neighborhood that no one visits anymore, and it’s the perfect place if you want to be alone with your misery and self-loathing. I guess you could say I come here often.

I sit down against the trunk of a tree and look up at the sky. It’s cloudy, but the kind of cloudy where the clouds look like bunnies and hearts and shit. I guess looking at clouds is a better use of my time than replaying the events of today over and over and hating myself more with every passing second.

I don’t even know how much time passes but suddenly, I feel another person close to me. I start, convinced I’m about to be murdered or kidnapped, but when I turn, I see Jasmine.

She sits down next to me and offers me a shaky smile. This time she definitely has been crying. She kinda still is.

I don’t know whether I should say something, so I just sit there and look at her. She looks down at her own hands, and doesn’t speak for a long time. I’m about to open my own cursed mouth, when she finally speaks.

“I’m so sorry, Syd.”

I stare at her, my brain not computing. “You’re sorry? What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was a total… a total dingus earlier!” If I didn’t feel so fucked right now, I would have smiled at Jasmine’s adorable inability to swear, maybe even gently teased her about it. But I don’t. I sit quietly as she continues: “I have been for years, haven’t I? Completely clueless.”

“What?” I don’t know what she is on about, but if she means clueless about my embarrassing crush on her, then yes, she has been. I can’t blame her, though. I mean, I did try to hide it, and for good reason.

“I left the date with Brandon early.”

I feel like an ass for it, but I’m happy to hear that. Not because I’m naive enough to think it means anything for me, but because Brandon is such a punchable fucking idiot, and definitely not good enough for Jasmine. “Oh,” is what I say. “Did you not have a good time?”

She finally looks at me. “I left because of you, Syd.”

Fuck. “Jasmine, I’m so fucking sorry. I never should’ve-”

“Stop,” she says, and I do. “I left because I realized you were right. I don’t like Brandon.” She lets out a shaky laugh. Her eyes are brimming with tears. “It probably shouldn’t have taken you kissing me to realize it, but… Yeah, well, I’m an idiot.”

My heart and brain seem to have made a collective decision to stop functioning. I stare at her, not sure if any of this is really happening. Maybe I’m misinterpreting what she is saying. Yeah, that seems like the only logical-

My half-panicked thoughts are cut off by Jasmine leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. She is still teary-eyed, but she is also smiling softly as she moves close enough that our shoulders are touching. “I don’t think I even like guys at all,” she whispers. “And… well. I’m pretty sure I like you. A lot.”

She is looking at me expectantly, but I am stunned into silence. My brain short-circuited long ago and left me useless and unable to do anything other than stare at her in disbelief.

“Syd.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Please say something, I am freaking out over here!”

“Shit. Yeah. Sorry.” I shake my head, slowly kicking myself back into action. “I like you a lot too. But I probably made that pretty obvious earlier, didn’t I?” I chuckle nervously, meeting her eyes. My heart is still going haywire, has been since she fucking kissed me. I don’t think I’ve fully processed that yet. “Sorry, this is… a lot.”

Jasmine grins. “Yeah, tell me about it. Twelve hours ago I thought I was the straightest person ever and that I liked Brandon? And now it turns out I’ve been a lesbian the whole time! God, that feels weird to say, but… Also like such a relief? Like part of me has known for way longer.”

I almost don’t have the courage to do it, but I reach out and take her hand. Our fingers interlock. When she puts her head on my shoulder, I almost start to tense up, out of habit I guess, but I tell myself to relax.

The moment feels so precious, so uniquely ours, that I’m afraid I’ll ruin it if I speak. So I close my eyes and savour the way Jasmine’s soft body is pressed against mine, and I pray that this moment never ends.

#full discloser: halfway thru writing this i realized it has a lot of similarities to the series 'i am not okay with this'#i promise no similarities are intentional!#original writing #queer fiction #lgbt fiction #short story #lesbian #lesbians #lgbtq+#writing #writeblr #queer #queer short story #comphet #wlw #i rly hope i didnt accidentally call brandon 'brad' somewhere in this asdfgh i did that while writing oops

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

#only posting this now bc ive been in a funk the past few days #and i need some soft over romantic fluff #also when i made my masterlist i realized there were 6 posts #and the number 6 is a huge trigger for my ocd i hate it #also this was already written haha so yeah #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #dolan twins fanfic #grayson mj

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gagmebucky · 5 years

Text

a little out of my depth on this one. don’t be too harsh! 😅

anonymous asked: pls dont shame me for this lmao 🥺 but could you write something about bucky masturbating with the reader’s panties? like he found them on her floor or something and he took them and jerked himself off with them and nutted into them oof 🥴 imma pass out

[neighbor!bucky. masturbation. doll.]

But he’s fueled by the euphoria tunneling into his very being by working your silk up and down his cock, clinched like a vice with corkscrewing motions; he’s fueled by the knowledge that hours before this, you’d been laid up in that luscious bed, legs spread, a dainty hand shoved between them—his name probably on your lips as you rubbed your fingertips against your cloth-clad clit until you doused it with your sticky essence.

in which you drive bucky to do something he ever thought he would. (includes neighbor!bucky, bucky’s pov, dirty talk via reader, masturbation.)

do not repost.

—

Bucky Barnes doesn’t do cat and mouse. Because, at the end of the day, he’s a wolf and catching a lamb is a mere matter of flashing his teeth.

There’s no need to chase because his charm is effortless. Dames are already lining up, begging him to take them to bed, so he’s never believed in needlessly pursuing another. To some guys, it’s a sport, a way to boost their ego, but to him, it’s a waste of time and he isn’t that insecure.

Until now. Until you moved in next door with your seductive looks, enthralling smile and cheeky remarks. There’s too much about you to pinpoint one specific aspect that draws him in like a ship into a storm.

Maybe it’s because when he flashed you his baby blues and rumbled your name with a naturally husky edge and laid a surefire pickup line on you but you just laughed and shook your head. Maybe it’s because he sees you everyday, getting your mail, lounging by the pool, or purposely changing in the window across from his and a figure that sexy is driving him mad. Maybe it’s because he watches the way you bewitch and throw away your many suitors in the same manner he does.

All he knows is that he wants you. On your knees, on your back, on top of him. And while he’s never had to try before, he’s positive you’ll fall like the rest. In no time, he’ll utter a few filthy litanies that’ll have your head spinning and your panties dropping.

That’s what he decides on a particular Saturday night when the speakers from your place vibrate over to his. It’s low enough that he can ignore it, but it’s loud enough that it’s not weird that it coins his attention. So fuck the former because he’s a man on a mission, and he refuses to fail.

Once he’s checked his stubbled jaw and half-hearted chocolate brown bouffant looks in the mirror, he throws something expensive and stylish on before he strides on over with determination ladening his combat boot-clad steps.

The stars are outshines by the extravagance of your little shindig. Your two-story is lit up completely, in both lights and populace. People are filtering in and out through your opened front door, laughing and smiling with the faint scent of liquor lingering in the air.

Women and the occasional guy pay him greedy glances, too intoxicated to give a damn about how obvious they’re being. Other than a cocky tilt of his lips, he gives the vaguely familiar faces no recognition. His mind is on one thing—you—and there’s a flurry of tactics he’s considering to reel you in with.

He weaves through the throng and locates your kitchen where the drinks are being handed out. Not by you, but a girl he remembers you’re pretty close to, and she blushes every time she sees him. And right now is no different.

Her cheeks burn red as he’s next in line. “H - hi, Bucky,” she breathes and nervously tucks a stray of hair behind her ear. “What would you like? There’s wine coolers, beer, vodka. . .” her voice trails off when she looks behind him, giving a nod before wordlessly scurrying off.

“Crashing my house party, Barnes?” your musically simpering voice calls and turns him around; greeting him is the sight of your alluring form adorned in a short dress. You click your tongue in a tsk and shake your head disapprovingly. “Not very neighborly of you.”

“Not inviting me to your house party? Not very neighborly of you, doll,” he retorts smoothly, the riposte matching your tone’s fluctuation while his eyes drink you in. The satin wrapped around your skin is cut low, giving him an eyeful of your décolletage, and it stops at the middle of your thighs; suddenly he’s aware how easy it would be to do away with the flimsy fabric.

You fail to suppress a smile. “Considering you fucked most of the guests here, I thought it’d be bad taste.”

His eyebrow lifts, and he casts a glance around to acknowledge he had, indeed, fucked most of your friends. “Haven’t fucked them all.” He shrugs and regards you with a confident half-smirk, adding, “Not yet, anyway.”

You titter and fold your arms, inadvertently jiggling your breasts in the process. “In your dreams.”

He licks his bottom lip and shamelessly admits, “I do dream about you, doll. A lot, actually.” Stepping forward, he crowds you against the wall. He flashes his teeth as he stares you down. “Under me, begging and moaning my name, wrapped around my cock while I pound your little pussy drippin’ full of me.”

For a moment, you‘re stunned, and he knows his words have you throbbing—the look on your face is familiar, one he‘s invoked within woman after woman. Your breathing hitches, and your eyes dilate with unmistakable desire. “Y - you wish,” you finally say in a lame attempt to laugh it off and push past him.

He catches you by the wrist, his fingers dwarfing your tiny limb, and tugs you gently in place so your back is flush against the upright surface once more. This time, both of his hands splay at the spaces between your shoulder and head, cornering you with only an inch separating your bodies.

“Yeah,” he agrees because he does—his advances are proof of that—and he’s not afraid to own up to it. “But you do, too. You want me every bit as much as I do you.” His eyes drag over your body slow and deliberate as if he can see through your very soul. “It’s obvious. The way you look at me, how your nipples are always hard, when you squeeze your thighs together and think you’re being subtle. You aren’t.” His nose almost touches yours. “Just stop it with the charade and admit that you want me, and I’ll fuck you until you’re crying and can’t stop cumming around my cock.”

You’re wavering. A battle rages in your narrowed irises, mouth slightly ajar like you’re trying to form a response. It takes a minute—going over the reason for your nonsensical resistance and debating the necessity of it all—but you figure one out, and he doesn’t know where the composture comes from when it grips you.

Your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, and you breathe a strong, “No.” Tables turned, he falters backward somewhat in astonishment, but on that same exhale, you confess, “I do want you. I want you in every way under the sun. I think about it constantly. What your hands would feel like on me instead of mine. . . if it were your fingers rubbing me to an orgasm instead of my own, or knuckle deep inside me. If I’d be able to take two of your thick fingers, or if I’d be too tight.”

Each word hits him like a punch in the gut; the sentences ooze wanton honesty, syllables drawn like honey, spoken to fan against his lips tantalizingly. Gaze transfixed on him, he can see the kaleidoscope of sinful fantasies flitting through your mind. He’s sure you can see the feral flame igniting within his.

Of course, you don’t stop. “I think about how’d you cock looks. . . feels, buried inside me, or fucking my throat. I think about how’d I’d want you to take pictures so I can see my cheeks stuffed, eyes glossy, lips wet with spit and your cum,” you say so simply one might assume you’re talking about the weather. “Most of all, I think about how I know that once you start, I won’t want you to stop even when I tell you to. I’d want you to keep going until I physically can’t, until the only thing I have to ability to do is seize up around your cock, again and again.”

Your voice has taken on a libertine rasp, translating into a sound that sends a shiver down his spine as you toss your head back and laugh. “God,” you whisper before pushing to your tippy toes, in tandem with fisting his shirt, to speak into his ear. “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you. Really high end ones no good ‘cause I’m soaked thinkin’ about what you’d do to me if you got the chance—if I gave you one. Matter of fact, soaked one just this morning thinking about you. It’s why I’m not wearing any right now.”

Adrenaline and raw hunger flood his veins rushes to his dick. His heart thumps like a jungle drum while concupiscence roars demandingly between his ears; air expels harshly through his nostrils like a bull before charging. He follows the instinct but you dart out of reach knowingly.

“But no.” You smirk, several feet away now, preening at the way he palms himself uncomfortably through his jeans, and how his jaw ticks. “Those are just fantasies. You won’t ever get to learn what I sound like in the throes of an orgasm, James. I don’t care if I have to abuse every sex toy I have but I am not fucking you. So I suggest you pick someone else around here to be another notch on your belt and fix that—” You nod to the swelled bulge straining against denim, and you declare, “—cause it won’t be me.”

Without so much as a goodbye, you disappear into the mass of grinding bodies, leaving him painfully hard and alone.

He can’t get it out of his head. He can’t get you out of his head. An hour later, and your encounter throbs at the base of his skull in unison with an erection. Every line, the tone and the twinkle in your eyes as you said them play like a mantra but instead of calming him down, it only drives him further insane.

There’s been plenty of interests thrown his way, offers to “help” him with his not-so-little problem caged in his pants, and as tempting as they are, he can’t bring himself to. It’s pathetic, and he nearly punched a wall because seriously when did he become the type of person who’s spurred on by rejection—bittersweet rejection, as yours was.

That speech, laced with provocation though it was, should’ve been it. Right? He should’ve left, and his dick should be flaccid, and your face, name and existence should never cross his mind again. Yet, here he is, locked in your upstairs bathroom, (because there’s a line otherwise, and he ignored the sign saying do not cross in front of the stairs), unsuccessfully trying to jacking himself off.

“Fuck!” he just about snarls as his body refuses to give him relief. His third try, and he’s still hard as a rock. Being wound up is only making it worse but he can’t help it; you’re just as teasing in his mind as you are in real life. “Fuck it.”

He tucks himself in perfunctorily, shirt ruffled and button and zipper undone, and swings the door open haphazardly. He’s gonna fuck one of your friends and pretend it’s you—that it’s you who’s finally given in to let him play as pleases. And he’ll give his best performance, pull out all the stops so she’ll rave to you in the morning.

That brings a faint smile to his lips. The thought of your best friend ranting to you about how good he fucked her with every detail down to the second has him giddy, and the possibility that you'll masturbate to the hypothetical story suddenly strikes him.

Mid-walk in the hallway, intention on returning to the party and enacting his plan, he stops. He whirls around, and there, he spots it. The master bedroom—your bedroom, and your innately sultry voice echoes, “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you.”

And he takes that as an invitation.

Because you explicitly stated not to go beyond the first level and you apparently trust the herd of drunks below, your door is unlocked; so all he has to do is twist the knob and push in, revealing your sleeping chambers in its almost immaculate glory.

Cream walls encase a room bigger than his with similarly toned furniture sitting against it. In the middle of mahogany dressers, a grand vanity and a flat screen television is your bed, framed in dark brown wood with a king-sized mattress on top, made neatly in a fluffy white comforter and throw pillows.

While everything else seems to be pristine, surfaces shining without a speck of dust in sight, items tidily put away, your floor isn’t. Although it does have a mopped sheen, it’s littered in clothing. Yours, clearly, a trail of them leading to the connected bathroom. Amid various dresses and bras, there’s a single pair of panties straddling the threshold; black cotton is displayed with the inside of the triangle panel flipped up, and dark cotton is lightened with a shimmer of residual wet.

Before Bucky can think about his next move, he’s already picking them up. He clenches the black silk in his hand and instinctively brings them to his nose. Inhaling deeply, a groan wrenches out of his throat from the scent of your feminine musk.

The olfactory sensory neurons fires to his brain until he’s left with feeling like he just took a shot of the finest liquor. It rattles him to the very bones and electrifies his insides. Smarting shocks needle across his skin while every part of him vibrates with excuritating arousal.

“Goddamn,” he half-chokes, half-growls, his chest falling and lifting raggedly because you smell so fucking good he can practically taste it. It’s uniquely you, but unmistakably stained with the universal scent of cum, and otherwise confirms what you said earlier, that you had drenched them because of him.

And he doesn’t even try to stop as he hurriedly snakes his cock from its confines. With one hand, he holds onto the doorframe; the other, with your used panties webbed across his palm, pinches himself at the girthy base. No lubricant is needed because his tip has been weeping ever since he first saw you and hasn’t stopped dribbling down his well-endowed length.

Slicked up, he grits his teeth and works the worn attire along his erection. Somewhere in his mind, he expects to fail again at self-pleasure like before, but it seems having your orgasm drenched silk swathed around him helps tremendously with that.

A tremor wracks his body, hips jutting forth in a consequential thrust. “Oh, f - fuck,” he rasps at the warm feeling prickling from the tips of his toes to his fingers. To think, he can have a harem of women on their knees for him but instead, he prefers getting more satisfaction this.

If it didn’t feel so fucking good, maybe he’d feel embarrassed—have some sort of shame for such a depraved act.

“S - shit,” he moans the curse. His forehead falls onto the doorframe, and his nails engraved crescents into the painted wood. Though he may try to muffle them with his plump bottom lip stressed between his teeth, throaty sounds wrest out of his chest and fill the room, an erotic soundtrack in junction with the wet squelching of his hand pumping his cock.

You besiege his mind, rule with an iron fist while he desperately fucks his own in lieu of you. Your face, your body, and all the turpitude he’d inflict on you because he’d want to consume you in the same way you’ve done him. He’d—he will—show you things those other guys can’t even dream of; you’ll be hooked on him like he is on you.

A fever is building rampantly within him; he heats like leather in the sun, lava boiling under his skin in preparation to explode. Every defined muscle in his body is coiled with escalating tension while his strokes are becoming sloppier and sloppier. More concentrated at his sensitive tip, he’s coated your black silk in lurid splashes of precum, sluicing your used panties so thoroughly his palm is swamped by the almost-translucent fluid.

In an embarrassing amount of minutes, the crux approaches at the speed of a comet. A mental imagining flickers through his psyche, snapshots of you, completely undone; tits bouncing as he drives inside you, your inviting lips opened in an o as you exude the prettiest moans and whimpers, his thumb strumming your clit like instrument string as he pummels your channel, the look on your face when he finally blows his load.

That thought does it.

“Shit, shit, shit—!” Sensations coalesce, and warmth frays his nerves. Your name tears pass this lips, strangled and breathy, while his hips thrust forward in completion. The volcano erupts, and stream after stream spills into the thin material for what feels like forever.

His senses skew, blurring as he rides out the highest relief he’s ever felt. Shuddering, he milks every last bit before the intensity dwindles, and he returns to reality; the reality that, yes, he had just experienced a mind blowing orgasm thanks to a measly pair of panties—your used panties.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters to himself, softening as he tucks himself away and shoves the silk into his pocket. “I’ve really got it bad, don’t I?”

[masterlist / feedback]

#bucky x reader #bucky x you smut #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x you #this is very.... ? to me because i literally cannot tell if it's hot or not or if it just comes across awkward #??#anyway i'm gonna go 2 bed for a lil bit but i wanted to post this!!#i understand if no one really interacts w this because i don't think i did it right? idk i'll try to dabble with it in the future to perfect #but for now! here we are

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years

Text

Kairi Prompt

* !!!SPOILERS FOR MELODY OF MEMORY WARNING!!! *

This happens during Kairi’s exam, where Aqua was trying to prepare her but suddenly, a new enemy began to threaten some uncharted worlds.

Worried this could mean something bad is happening with darkness again, Aqua, Terra, and Ventus go to investigate through the door to darkness, while Roxas, Axel, and Xion state they’ll try looking around in the world of light.

Kairi wants to journey too, but wonders if she should go alone...

Thinking this may be from the data world, Mickey can’t abandon his research, and Goofy and Donald are sent there.

Kairi... is once again alone.

She hadn’t really snuck onto the gummi ship, she just wandered into it and no one seemed to notice.

She wondered if she should talk to Master Yen Sid... but something told her she already knew what to do.

She continued to walk over to the main chair of the ship... in the middle and in front of the other two.

She placed a loosely-bundled fist up to her chest, looking down a moment. “Why... am I here?”

She could feel something... calling... and closed her eyes.

“Sora... you’re with me, right? Hehe, I should have known.” She smiled and lowered her hand down, looking more determinedly towards the windows of the gummi ship. “If you heard what was going on, you wouldn’t just sit back and wait... for someone else to direct your course... would you?”

She tilted her head, under the impression that maybe if his voice couldn’t reach her where he was... that her voice still could.

“Right, let’s do this! Together!” She summoned her keyblade, pointing it out as it began to glow at it’s tip, and the gummi ship began to activate.

“Ohh!” Startled by the sudden wind, Queen Minnie and Daisy turned to see it floating up and a lighted beam shoot out from it. “Could it be..?” Minnie had to wonder a moment, “No, it’s Kairi! Kairi..!” She waved, joyfully wishing her off.

“Your majesty!” Daisy reached up and dropped her hand, “Should you really be so relaxed right now? She’s going off on her own!”

“I know,” Minnie smiled to her, then gently placed her hand on Daisy’s which had lowered her arm from sending Kairi off on her way. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Daisy looked amazed, her beak opening to say something, before shaking her head and smiling politely to her. She let her arms drop and remain poised in the front of her, down and over one another, “You’re right... It is...” She looked up with hope in her eyes and faith that Kairi was ready, and that she may find something the others couldn’t.

“Besides,” Minnie began, still watching the gummi ship take off in a large burst that rippled the wind back and made the two girls brace themselves. “Hmhm, she’s never alone.” Minnie placed her hands together, as though saying a silent prayer, and then with a touch of magic, her fingertips started glowing and gathering light around them.

“Ah! Your highness!” Daisy seemed to recognize this power. “A-are you sure!?”

“I’m very certain... Kairi may not need it, but I’d feel awfully worried if I didn’t at least give her a... oh, a pick-me-up! That’s a fun thing to call it!” she giggled once more in her glee and raised one hand away from the other, shooting a star up into the sky that trailed after Kairi.

“A royal blessing...” Daisy commented, and lowered her head in respects. “Ohh... without that blessing though, who’s going to guard you?”

She seemed to be hinting at the magic being somewhat a shield of somekind, but it wasn’t certain.

Minnie turned around and winked to her, and stated, “I’ll be alright! I’ve got Mickey home at last. Though he’s hard at work, I don’t want to seem like I’m slacking either.” and again, her eyes turned back to where the gummi ship was far out of sight now... the shooting-star’s trial of stardust was all that twinkled to show which way it had headed. “It’s up to Kairi and the lingering spirit of Sora’s presence in her heart to carry out the rest.” She nodded with certainty. “And if anyone can teach Kairi what she needs before taking the mark of mastery, it’s definitely going to be from a journey with Sora.” She amused over the idea, “What a lovely date they’ll have!” She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, realizing she was being a bit nosy, and turned around to think her mischievously charming thoughts to herself. “Come along now, Daisy. Let’s tell Mickey what we’ve done...”

“Y-yes, your majesty.” Daisy sighed, walking after her, “Oh bother... Do we have to take the stairs?”

Kairi went to many Disney worlds that Sora and the gang haven’t ventured to before, previously. However, many of the characters seemed to know Sora, or at least, friends of Sora by some degree.

Kairi also came back to other worlds he had visited, finding that their stories were far from over, and there was--in fact--something influencing darkness and evil in the worlds... it strengthened their foes or new ones...

For example, Kairi learned from Merida that one decides their own fate, whether it’s by their hand or some magic, you always can choose your fate... if you’re brave enough to seize it.

“This time...” She watched the ghostly wisps beckoning her to where the bears were fighting. She summoned her keyblade, gripping it strongly as though with an iron fist, “I’ll decide where my fate starts.” she took off, ready to help Merida and her mother.

In Dumbo, Kairi realized that it wasn’t her keyblade, her own personal strength, or even her friends that necessarily gave her all the power she ever needed. It was also faith in herself, what she already had, that would bring her the greatest powers yet to come.

“And you gave him that faith to fly, didn’t you?” She looked at the little mouse as it took off it’s ring-master hat and bowed to her. “And Dumbo...” She giggled, “It was never the feather that you wielded. It’s power was always your own... I think I understand now.” She looked over at her keyblade, “All my strength... or at least, the strength that I’ve always had... I’ve just yet to realize it.” She smiled, finding some confidence in herself. “I bet that’s how Sora and Riku once felt... I thought, if I could be a Keyblade Master, maybe... I don’t know,” She lowered the keyblade, looking back to the little elephant and it’s mouse friend. “I still gain so much strength from their faith in me... but I see now that I need faith in myself, my own abilities, to really succeed at being my own kind of keyblade wielder... Thank you for that, both of you.” Dumbo wiggled his ears, elated to have helped as she had also helped them so much. “Now, let’s make sure your mother’s okay.” Dumbo jumped around in a cycle, full of glee at that idea, and took off as the little mouse gripped it’s hat, ran in the air a moment, before darting after him.

“Heheh... Well, I be done seen about everything.” She laughed to herself, and for a second, her heart took her to a moment long ago lived... where Sora and Riku were laughing beside her on the dock back in Destiny Island. Riku swung a hand into Sora’s face and he tried to fight back, causing the two to tumble into the sea...

“Sora... Riku...” She gripped her heart again, “...I will join you, once I’m ready. You don’t have to worry about this world anymore... I’ve got it covered.” She nodded with a sincere wish that they could trust her with this task, and continued her journey to find the mysterious force causing so much problems.

In Lady and the Tramp, she followed a puppy with a dog muzzle on it’s mouth. Later, she helped a stray into the zoo to help follow the other dog, and watched as the two seemed to have gotten separated by the dark-influencer. They seemed to be asking her to help them escape the dog-catcher, and did so.

“These... interesting dogs... are mine, sir!” she stood between him and the two, what appeared to be in love, dogs as the dog-catcher waddled his way up to her in a goofy manner. She stood her ground though, as he commented back, “Their be laws in this fine city, Miss! Put a collar and leash’em! Or they’re heading straight to the pound!” He wiggled his finger up above her, but Kairi just sweetly nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmph!” He stomped away, and Kairi narrowed her eyes and turned to whisper back at the dogs.

“I’ve faced scarier things than him!” She joked, as the dogs yipped in thanks. “Now, you two should get out of here... I don’t know if you belong to anyone... but I can see now that you belong with each other.”

They both snuggled up in their iconic hug, and looked back to Kairi. “What a fine lady you have there.” Kairi smiled, remembering how she had offered Kairi her paw in greeting.

Lady barked with approval. “Oh? Is that... That’s your name, right?” She nodded, “I could feel it... in my heart.” She looked to the other dog. “Keep her out of trouble... ya here?”

Tramp also barked in agreement.

“...Take care of each other...” As they took off, Kairi couldn’t help but think of Sora. “...I’ll keep you safe... Sora.” She decided this world still had a mystery to solve, and continued on.

Later, She found that a Lion knew Sora, and that his daughter had gone missing. Stopping some feuding prides, she learned a valuable lesson about not judging by one’s past... She may had been sent to Destiny Island against her will, used for a terrible fate in summoning the true Kingdom Hearts, “But love find’s a way!” She knew that to be true, “And I’ll find my way!” She prepared to fight the Lioness of the Shadow lands, and finally met the misty dark presence...

“Who are you? Why are you causing so much chaos in these worlds?” She demanded to know, but it took off, and she hurriedly followed it in the gummi ship.

Pocahontas had the last key she needed to fully unlock her true potential. The dark influencer was giving strength to the fear in both people’s hearts, and while Pocahontas raced to save the man she loved, Kairi returned to grandmother willow, asking sincerely how to help.

“Listen... with your heart... you will understand~” Grandmother Willow sang, but Kairi couldn’t just sit and mediate.

“There’s a war, Grandmother Willow! And I don’t have a compass to point my way like Pocahontas does! Please, I’m begging you, why can’t I summon my keyblade here? I must help them!”

“Let it break... upon you like... the waves upon the sand~” She kept singing, as Kairi was panting from her long journey through the woods filled with the dark-influencers presence and creations, having their contentions manifest as new dark creatures she had never seen before.

“My... heart... waves... sand?” She spoke through her heavy breathing, and taking a deep breath to try and calm herself, she looked within...

Her heart seemed to open up, and she was standing before Sora... upon the stainglass of her story.

“I don’t understand,” She admitted, gesturing to him while his face looked sorrowful at her plight. “I know you can’t answer me... but you can hear me, right?” she was holding back tears, and then... withdrew her hand to crunch her torso in and shake her angered fist. “I don’t know how I lost the power to summon my keyblade... I don’t understand why! In such a critical moment where I’m needed... it’s never been this bad in the other worlds, I’ve always found some sort of solution, but the settlers won’t listen to me! I don’t have Kiara to help me reason with them, and faith in myself isn’t going to help John Smith escape execution! They’re all too afraid of each other for me to get through to them over bravery alone! I don’t know... I don’t know what to do!” She gripped her head, still struggling to not cry.

“Sora... how have you been able to go through so many worlds... face so many challenges that a keyblade can’t always solve? I don’t understand... I’ve tried everything within my power, but a man’s going to die and I can’t just sit by and watch it play out!” she fell to her knees, “Sora! Sora, just take over! I don’t know what to do anymore! They need you! Not me... I’m still too weak! I... I can’t pass my training...”

As she shook her head, she revealed the true fear that had lingered in her heart.

“I... Don’t know if I can live up to the expectations you and Riku gave to these people... to their worlds... I... I’m just me.”

Feeling a bit hopeless, she finally saw Sora’s form move.

It advanced towards her before he dropped to a knee and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“So... you’ll help me?” She looked up into his eyes.

He squinted his eyes slightly, looking into each one of hers.

“...Listen... with your heart...” she scrunched her face up to avoid crying, and placed her hand by her heart again. “And you will understand...”

The setting suddenly changed to Destiny Island, and Sora was a child...

She had gotten Riku and Sora out of the water, and began actively teasing them about not fighting so much, “If you’re real friends, you should treat each other with a lot less rough-housing! Though, it was pretty funny.”

“Give us a break, Kairi...” Sora scratched his head, looking apologetic.

“It’s a boy thing.” Riku hooked his arm around Sora’s head, and pulled him over to him as Sora struggled.

“R-right... hey, Riku!”

Kairi giggled, “I guess... if you really fought, I’d have to pull you out before you drowned yourself.” She knew they had a rivalry, but put her hands behind her back. “Alright, that does it!”

The two boys looked to her new declaration, seeing as her voice had pepped up quite a bit.

“From now on, I’ll make sure you two don’t fight..! Or bicker behind my back...” She grinned then, “Cause you’re not gonna leave my sights!”

“H-hey!” The two didn’t really complain, but they refused to rough-house since she would intersect herself, saying that if they were gonna fight, they’d have to contend with her too.

“...I’m...” Kairi opened her eyes, looking up at Grandmother Willow. “I’ve always been a mediator... I’m not meant to just be a fighter!”

“Go, my child! Your course is set, and the compass of your heart spins and guides you!” The wind rustled by fiercely and Kairi felt a surge of power come upon her.

She turned as the large sails of the mistaken clouds of the sky lightly glided behind her.

“You know your path, now, Kairi! Take it!” Leaves of differing color spun around Kairi as her hair beat against the wind, the light sparkles suddenly trailed down her arm with the leaves and Kairi summoned a different keyblade...

She raced through the forest, and as Pocahontas cried out, “Stop!” She threw her keyblade up to the chief’s staff.

He was a powerful man, and for a moment, Kairi saw in her mind’s eye the glitching reality of Xenanort, then back to the chief.

She continued to strain, letting Pocahontas speak, and hearing for the first time... the words that no one uttered, but that were meant by their hearts.

She spoke them after her, and from what she learned at Pride Rock, taught the same lessons. “We are one... all of us!”

She knew what Simba had meant when he sang to Kiara now... and what Kiara learned after her journey. “Can I also... trust in my own heart?” She felt Sora’s light, and knew that she could.

“Can you trust yours?” Kairi lowered her keyblade... and the chief looked settled. “We don’t need to fight.”

However, she did finally confront the Dark-Influencer, realizing he was the lingering will of the dark-side of Kingdom Hearts...

“You... You just aren’t completed. But your hatred... all the loathing of the heart, it’s insecurities that we all felt during that battle at the keyblade graveyard...” she took a deep breath, “Now, I will set free those awful feelings... and the last of the lingering feelings we’ve had then... will finally come to an end!”

She fought with everything she had, as it morphed and changed into many of the silhouettes of her friends, their fear that she thought Sora had defeated... but it was exactly Sora’s lingering heart within her that had guided her to the Dark-Influencer.

As she fought it, it would shift at intervals between her friends and allies, even the foes and their lingering spites or sorrows... but then...

After defeating the dark silhouette of Master Aqua, the dark silhouette transformed into a figure looking like Sora...

It staggered, before regaining slowly itself into a powerful stance.

It swiped out the kingdom blade and began powering up.

“Sora... this is it, isn’t it?” She saw a light begin to shine from her heart. “You trust me and only me to defeat the last of your fear from this world... the last thing holding everyone back from living at peace again, right?”

She also threw her new keyblade up to the sky, then slowly lowered it to have a crown appear below her.

“Sora... if I can... please... lend me your strength!” she felt a surge of power, light shining from the crown as the shooting star spiraled down to the crown and filled it with magnificent power, granting a keyhole to appear.

“Ah..!” not sure what it was, but knowing it was going to temporarily grant her some help, she trusted that if she unlocked this... Sora might be given a second chance to aid her. She stepped back, flying slightly in an arch before unlocking it, having the shooting-star’s dust fly out and glitter against a new form...

A light-figure of Sora slowly arose from a kneeling position... the same that he had when she was in her heart... he reached up and grabbed her hand to help her glide back down safely...

“Sora..?” She held his hand a moment... and it squeezed it.

She nodded to it, not knowing quite how this magic worked, but knowing she could fight with him against this powerful foe just like beforehand... when he had gathered the petals of her crystal lotus heart and they fought the greatest evil together.

This... was truly like before, but the foe was now their own emotions... having gathered under Kingdom Hearts... and having the last of it’s power leak life into them...

She looked to the dark figure, “You’re no longer a part of us!” she swiped her hand out, as the Lighted Sora silhouette got into battle position, letting go of her hand as a one-sided wing appeared on both their shoulders, matching the other.

“I will act as the light from my friends! This is where Kingdom Hearts ends, for good!”

With their hearts as one... they beated the lighted wings once behind them to propel them forward, holding their keyblades back to attack the last of the darkness that still plagued this world...

Like the fight between the nobodies, darkness, and her friends, the light... she would not let this end... with savage emotions.

#sokai #sokai prompt #kairi prompt #melody of memory #kh spoilers #cutegirlmayra #sora and kairi #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts melody of memory #kh #khmom #kingdom hearts prompt

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