#i have had a very productive weekend and the fic is almost done so i hope to be posting it soon

[mllekurtz]

"six"-sentence "sunday"

I was tagged a few [arbitrary amount of time] ago by @ariadne-mouse and @the-kaedageist for Six Sentence Sunday!

Rules: every Sunday, share six sentences from your current WIP and tag six friends.  Sunday is only a suggestion, please post your own any time in the week!

I'm finally doing this because I actually have a new wip I am excited to share with you all! I have been possessed by a shadowgast medieval AU that, so far, is 6k words of what I would call 'smut with atmosphere.' Have six-ish sentences from a flashback:

Drowsy and sated, Essek is wearing an unguarded expression that, by contrast, tugs at a recollection in Caleb’s faultless memory, one he hasn’t revisited in a while: Essek in the shadows of the Alhambra palace, to the left of the Emira, standing out among her scintillating cohort for grace and pride. The diplomatic affairs Caleb was entrusted with by the Bishop of Minden and, through him, by the Emperor himself were delicate and important, but his gaze was irrevocably drawn to the bright, kohl-lined eyes of the man behind the sovereign. And his intuition, which had saved his life again and again, proved correct once more: even without uttering a word, an arched eyebrow or subtle nods guided and nudged Caleb through the talks. It was only natural for him to seek out the man who had kept him from making a fool of himself, both to thank him and to find out what he would want in return for his help.

The six people I'm going to gently shake so that some snippets fall out: @saturdaysky, @tarydarrington, @canyon-wizard, @nellasbookplanet, @lakrisrot, @rainydaymonk

[roberrtphilip]

BUT WHAT ARE YOUR HAIR HEADCANONS????

ooooo let’s get into it !!

I think part of Giselle kind of regretted cutting her hair for the ball, simply because she was so used to it being longer. She got used to it after a while, but it took some time. It was especially hard because, like your Belle, she fidgets with her hair a lot. When she’s anxious, or feeling a little shy/self-conscious, she’ll twirl/pull on locks of her hair, but with it being shorter, it was a bit tricky. Like, she still could, but it wasn’t quite the same.

There was a small part of her that wanted to experiment with different styles, like she saw someone with a pixie cut and was tempted to try it out, but she knew the second she cut more off, she'd have a meltdown.

This kind of goes against canon a tiny bit, and I can’t really explain why my brain does this, but for some reason I imagine Giselle’s hair like. really, Really curly. and in the film, there’s definitely curls there, but idk my brain just. always gives her more?? like, Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman kinda????? so, there’s that.

and speaking of curls, Robert’s curls are so very important to Giselle (and me!!!). the first time she really looked at his bedhead, and realized he had very curly hair, she was blown away. she loves how they fall over his forehead, and curl around his neck, and she really, really loves playing with them. but Robert, the sick, sick man, he’s always hiding them with product 😔 she’s constantly begging him to please, please let his curls breathe, and sometimes he will, if he’s feeling generous. (Giselle has definitely taken his hair product, and stashed it somewhere he’d never look just so he’s forced to leave for the day with the curls poppin’)

one of Robert’s favorite things ever is Giselle’s bedhead. when her hair is just a huge mess of curls around her head,, yeah he loves that shit. it always reminds him of a lion’s mane 🧡

They both love having their hair played with, but for Robert that’s like heaven. His favorite cuddling position is resting his head on her chest while she plays with/strokes his hair. add in her yapping, or singing, and you can cure any problem that man has.

we know Giselle loves wearing flowers in her hair, and I think she’d love to stick them in Robert, Morgan, and Sofia’s, too.

and speaking of their kiddos !!!! back when he was a single father, Morgan came to him, asking if he could put her hair in pigtails, and also maybe braid it, too, and at first, he was very hesitant. He’d never done anyone’s hair before, and didn’t know the first thing about braiding. but he can’t deny his daughter anything, so he tried his best. I like to think he got a book on hairstyling, and they practiced over the weekend to make sure it was perfect. and maybe it wasn’t always perfect, but Morgan was always very happy 🤧

also worth noting, Morgan and Sofia have very curly, too. and Sofia likes to keep hers short. Giselle always cuts everyone’s hair, and one time Sofia asked her to “cut my hair like Daddy’s” and that just kind of stuck with her for a while. I picture her hair now being kind of like Bonnie's in Toy Story 3 😇 (but curlier, of course)

Oh, I can’t forget, Robert is suuuuuuch a diva about his hair. I mention it briefly in this fic, but that man spends forever brushing/styling it. when they first started dating, Giselle found it so amusing, and she often teases him about it. because he’s such a diva, he doesn’t like when anyone touches his hair, but Giselle is, of course, the exception.

one time, Robert got a hair cut and it was just a little shorter than usual, and Giselle… poor thing, she almost had a meltdown. There wasn’t nearly enough to properly play with, and she was so whiney about it. after that incident, she begged him to let her cut it next time. she just can’t stomach the idea of someone messing it up again!!!!

when Robert’s hair started going gray, Giselle was on cloud 9. Robert on the other hand… he hates it so much 😭 (she especially loves that his facial and chest hair start going gray too, but that’s not the kind of hair we’re talking about 🤭)

it’s such a small thing, but Robert loves when Giselle washes his hair. they don’t shower/bathe together often, because he likes his alone time, and Giselle often takes way longer than he does (and she makes the water way too hot). but when they do, Giselle always shampoos his hair, and he loves those little massages so much.

and also, okay kind of random, and it's not a headcanon, but it is related to hair. Robert's hair changes in almost every shot of the movie, and it drives me insane. because of that, I feel the need to show you how his hair looks to ME because well. it's important !!! to MEEEE

these scenes are the best it looks in the film, to ME... and it's important that we all know,,, this is how it looks in my mind palace most of the time.

[therealgchu]

Combined Snippet Sunday and WIP Wednesday

so, a little late, and a little early. thanks @fangbangerghoul for the tag!

i had a lovely 4-day weekend doing NOTHING but playing starfield, and then stuffing my face with texas de brazil on the 24th, and sushi on the 25th. i also, frankly, didn't get much writing done. i do have a chapter on the editing board, almost ready to be posted, but i wanted to wait until i have the next chapter at least drafted, which i did this weekend. plus, a bunch of outlines and notes. so, somewhat productive?

anyway, you can check out the prologue and first chapter of my fic, To the Shore over on ao3

without further ado, onto the snippet/wip!

Akila

Hwa was always a late riser, and today was no different. She and Sarah returned the previous evening at almost midnight after successfully retrieving another artifact. Hwa was thankful and pleased that she had her own room at the Lodge. Sarah reassured her that, yes, the room was hers to decorate as she liked, within reason. After the artifact was placed with the others, and she performed her perfunctory check-ins with the other members, she almost ran to her new room. As soon as she got in, she made sure the door was shut and locked. She threw her haversack on the bed and stripped down to only a skimpy tank top and panties.

This was the first time she had a bedroom all to herself in years. And, it was a HUGE bedroom. The bed was a king sized bed, full dresser and bureau, bookshelves, sitting chair, and even a safe. On Neon, only the very wealthiest, like executives at Ryujin or Syndicate heads, lived like this. However, she had since learned that, while this was larger and nicer appointed than most homes, homes in New Atlantis for average people were still quite a cut above anything in Neon. Even living accommodations in the Well, where she actually felt more comfortable, were nicer than Neon.

Hwa dumped out the contents of her haversack on the bed and started taking inventory of the treasures she found. There were a lot of Chunks food, which was great because they were hermetically sealed and could be squirreled away. She ate some Chunks chicken, and wrapped up the rest in a towel. While the safe was nice, she was more than cognizant of how easy it was to break into one. No, she thought, needed a better place. Instead she’d prized up a floorboard under her bed. It was here that she stashed her food supplies. Sure, it was cliched, but no one would ever think to look there, at least not these rich people; they’d check the safe, first.

She picked up the wooden duck and arranged it on the bench at the foot of her bed. The light planetarium was placed on one of the bookshelves. But her prize for the mission was down at the bottom - a ParsecPooch plushie. She shook it and giggled delightedly at the 8-bit music, and squeezed it tightly to her chest. Hwa kicked the haversack onto the floor, stripped naked, crawled under the covers, and curled up around the plushie.

[ramp-it-up]

It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One.  I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then.... 

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left. 

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact.  You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues. 

 It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down. 

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck. 

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace. 

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront.  It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network. 

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags.  And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere. 

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.  

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye. 

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.  

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you.  It just felt right. 

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic. 

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much. 

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.  

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together. 

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions. 

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success. 

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well. 

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again. 

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move. 

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.  

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about. 

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed. 

Kevin. 

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks.  Chris was in a rage for a week. 

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.  

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.  

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding. 

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else. 

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth. 

Maybe you too could be friends. 

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm.  He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond.  He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later. 

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play. 

----- 

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?  

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him. 

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris?  This is Y/N.  I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you. 

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry.  I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone.  You just never believed that Chris would really move on.  And you didn’t know why. 

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries!  Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed. 

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot. 

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You  were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him. 

And that wink. 

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed. 

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off. 

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology. 

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging. 

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin.  You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped. 

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.  

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option. 

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend. 

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics.  His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”  

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy.  Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered. 

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance.  Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set.  Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over. 

“What can I get you, Sir.” 

“I don’t need a drink.  I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party.  I need it to be extra special.”  

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see. 

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.” 

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.  

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin. 

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be.  You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills. 

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”  

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking. 

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN!  WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.” 

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban. 

“Listen to me.. Listen.  I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent.  You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him.  He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”  

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face.  Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”  

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”  

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.  

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred.  That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan.  Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great.  I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”  

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad.  Chris was so sweet.  You thought about him and you thought about Kevin. 

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?  

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.  

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.  

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.”  You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that  for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.  

“Word?”  You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand.  The one you knew he jacked off with.  You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm.  Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again. 

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

 Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.” 

 Then you snapped out of it.  

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.  

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him. 

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?”  Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.” 

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell. 

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”  

You looked at Kevin, too.  You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.” 

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him.  The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you.  “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?”  You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard.  Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.” 

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it.  He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”  

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe.  He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own.  He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue.  You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage.  He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him.  You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”  

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long.  You pulled it out with a pop.  

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X.  He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more.  His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.”  You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City.  He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.  

“So you want me to feel you up?”  He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you. 

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass?  Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game. 

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too.  It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult.  He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down.  Is it true?”  

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand.  Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris.  Only you.. Since you and I….”  Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.  

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again. 

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly.  He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!”  Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted?  You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh?  You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?”  He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.”  Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”  

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”  

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him. 

 “Please!”

“I know why.” 

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit.  He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly. 

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick.  He didn’t have to move.  Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him.  He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?” 

You searched his face.  He sounded like he was about to cry.  You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid.  You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris.  I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.  

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly.  You on your knees for him again was a dream. 

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”  

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you. 

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you.  It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought. 

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give. 

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet. 

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.  

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you. 

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done.  You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.  

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.” 

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor.  He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”  

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know.  None of that meant that we’re back together.  That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?” 

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own.  You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.”  You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”  

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove. 

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees.  He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.  

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body.  He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you.  He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”  

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

--- 

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.  

“We’re going to Aruba?”  

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching.  That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.  

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.” 

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower.  You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog! 

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou  @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain  @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ELEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: talk of sex and such, feelings Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: alright, this is terribly late again because im a depressed snail at heart, but its longer than usual, so i hope that makes up for it. If you read my fic at all, i love you. If you interact with this fic in anyway, i want to wed you. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

You woke up in a daze of fuzzy but pleasant memories. You were trying to blink the sleep from your eyes when Josh entered your line of sight. He had emerged from the hallway, completely naked save for the necklace he’d been in the night before, little water droplets slipping from his curls to his shoulders. 

You shot up in bed, and as you did, the comforter fell away from your body. It took you a moment for you to realize that it was the air hitting your bare skin that was making you feel chilled, but it didn’t last long. Your face turned beet red as you quickly picked the sheet back up to cover yourself. 

He was giving you an odd look - somewhere between amused and concerned. “Are you alright?” he tried cautiously, still standing there stark naked. 

“Josh! You can’t just walk around naked,” you complained, stuttering on your words as they came out. 

He snorted a laugh. “What? First of all, this is my room. Second of all, it’s a little late to try and protect your modesty.”

You rolled your eyes at him until you realized what he was talking about. “Oh my god, we had sex last night,” you whispered to him like it was a secret, a tiny smile on your lips. 

He nodded, breathing a laugh. “Yeah.”

You experimentally shifted in your seat before grimacing up at him. “That would explain why I’m sitting in a damp spot.”

You could only describe the laugh that escaped him as a cackle, honest and unabashed. “Gross.”

You had to say you agreed with him. 

There was a cautious moment, where you stared at each other, both unsure of what to say. 

“Are we good?” he tried quietly like he was a little scared of what you were going to say.

You patted the spot next to you and he clambered in as he was told. You leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Of course, we are,” you assured, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. 

“If it’s going to make you feel better to pretend it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be mad.”

You pulled away and looked up at him with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged, sporting a nervous smile. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You heaved a big sigh, shifting to look into his eyes. “Josh, I want you to listen to me really carefully, okay?”

He nodded.

You slowly reached up to cup one side of his face in your hand. “I don’t regret it - actually, I had a really nice night. I just think that it would be best for everyone involved if it didn’t happen again. We probably shouldn’t be romantic...or naked around each other.”

The expression he wore seemed like an understanding one, at least to you.

“You want me to make pancakes? Maybe chocolate chip banana?” you offered, giving him a cheeky smile. 

He couldn’t help but match it. “Yes. You’re probably going to want to put your tits away first though.”

“You first,” you quipped, smacking the back of your hand against his peck. 

+++

The rest of the weekend, the two of you spent watching Christmas movies on the couch (even though the holiday was more than a month away) while you worked on sewing the costumes. Josh had offered to ask the theater department if you could borrow a sewing machine, but you had been way too afraid of it to try and use it, so it sat in your room alone. That did, however, leave you to sew 26 costumes by hand. Well, more like 24, since Rachel had two of them mostly done. 

You were finding it oddly fun though, even though your fingers hurt by the fifth stitch or so. The hardest part was making sure you worked on the basics of every costume first - your instinct was to work on one at a time until it was perfect, but you knew you had to be smart about time management. Luckily, even though it was only near mid-November, Michigan’s weather was lovably unpredictable. The weather station had called for snow only through the weekend, but, in reality, it was Monday evening by the time it was done dumping snow - giving you a full three day weekend. 

Kate had been sending you pictures of the pieces of the set she had taken home with her to work on, and you couldn’t hide how impressed you were with her work. You would almost be offended at how good it looked if you hadn’t known she was an Art History major with a heavy side of sculpture work. 

In the last two weeks before the production, you barely got to see Josh. He would walk you to school, but then you usually wouldn’t see him for the entire rest of the day. You tried to wait up for him on Thursday night, but you ended up falling asleep on the couch, and woke at 1 am to him gently patting your shoulder. 

“Hey, you should get up and go to your bed.”

You blinked up at him, sitting up and brushing your sleep-mussed hair from your eyes. 

“You’re home so late,” you scolded half-heartedly, pulling your borrowed sweatshirt closer to your face. 

“I know, sorry. There’s still a lot to do, especially after we got snowed in last weekend,” he replied, sitting gingerly on the armrest. 

“I told you that I’m happy to help however I can.”

He smiled at you, but you had to admit that he looked over-tired. You’d been watching him burn the candle at both ends for three days straight. “It’s a lot of stuff that only I can do. Like going over the music and making the final set diagrams.”

You hummed in understanding as a response. 

“Want me to carry you to bed? You can come sleep in mine if you want,” he offered through a crinkly-nosed smile. 

You grinned back at him, genuine at first, but it quickly turned melancholy. “Josh,” you said under your breath. “I’d love that, but I don’t think it’s good for us to share a bed anymore.”

His expression fell, face turning blank. He nodded at you, standing and giving you a disappointed smile. “Sleep well,” he wished, patting your shoulder again once before retreating to his room. 

You stayed on the couch for a while, your knees tucked up to your chest, as you sat in your guilt. You had known it was stupid of you to have ever let things turn anything other than platonic with him - it had been undeniably fun, but he was your roommate, for fuck’s sake. You had to see him every day, eat your meals with him. Had you not selfishly let yourself go there in the first place, you’d be cuddled up beside him tonight. 

It had been so lovely having any kind of affection - platonic or otherwise - that you let yourself get carried away. 

When you finally got up and went to bed, Josh’s light was still on, his door shut for one of the first times since you moved in. 

+++

Kate took you out for breakfast on Saturday morning to a local hole-in-the-wall that she swore had the very best pancakes she’d ever eaten. She had shown up in a puffer jacket that looked so warm, it made you jealous. 

You’d been chatting easily about your classes and the play, but when you had finished your first cup of coffee, there was a lull in the conversation. 

You hadn’t meant to say it, it just bubbled out. “I slept with Josh.”

She glanced up at you through her jet black lashes, stony-faced. “Yeah,” she replied, way too calm, sounding like she was wondering why you were even telling her.

You blinked at her for a moment. “Did you hear me? I had sex with Josh.”

She nodded. “Do you want me to pretend like I’m shocked?”

You grimaced at her, and in a whiny tone, responded, “Yes, please.”

A nervous laugh escaped her as she fixed her features to display a surprised expression. “You did what?!” she asked - purely for your benefit. 

You groaned at her. “Okay, I get it. I feel so bad about it, Kate.”

Her cherry lips shaped into a puzzled frown.  “Why?”

A deep sigh filled your ribcage - you had been hoping it would clear your head, but no luck. 

“Because I desperately miss being able to be platonically intimate with him and it not being awkward. Before this, I was sleeping in his bed from time to time when I got too cold and we would cuddle.”

“Why can’t you go back to that?” 

“Are you listening? I slept with him,” you groaned. “All I can think about is him on top of me now.”

She scoffed, her chipped nails tapping against her glass of diet Coke. “Imagine how he feels - Josh had real, honest to god feelings for you, I think. Like for a while.”

“You said that, but I don’t know. How do you know that he didn’t just want to sleep with me? Like not in a conscious way, but what if he just wanted affection? What then, Kate?”

She had one dark eyebrow raised at you as she sipped at her straw. “Because I know that’s not true.”

“How would you be able to know that? Because you see him sometimes at school-” 

She cut you off with a confident smile. “I know because I talked to Jake about it.”

You almost blew past it - that is until you realized what she had said. The two of you shared a long, silent moment as you stared at each other. 

“You’ve been talking to Jake?” you asked, trying to keep your tone even so she didn’t know how excited that made you. 

“I have talked to him in the past, yes. He said that he already knew, but he was able to pry it out of Josh when he was drunk once.” 

You stared at her. “Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here right now, I think we can both agree with that. But can we start with you and Jake?” 

She huffed a disbelieving laugh as she set her hand on yours on the table comfortingly like she was trying to cushion the news. “Josh has some feelings for you - the real kind.”

In an effort to prolong the moment that it was time for you to speak again, you picked up a bite of your breakfast and popped it in your mouth. The moment always comes though, no matter how long you try to put it off. 

“I can’t,” you said quietly, shaking your head in disappointment. Then when she prompted you with a confused look, you finished. “I can’t risk it. I mean, maybe there could be something there, but he’s my roommate. And my best friend - there’s no way I’d ever get lucky enough again to find someone I connected with like that if things went sour and I had to move out.”

She licked her lips absently. “My advice would be to think about it - for literally as long as you need to. I’m confident that you’ll figure out what you want.”

You nodded, not entirely convinced one way or another. “It’s hard because he’s so fucking cute,” you said in faux disgust. 

“And sweet,” she added. “Don’t forget that.”

You shot her an accusatory look. 

After a long pause, a smile found its way to your lips. “How cool would it be though if we were both dating one of them?” 

She laughed, picking a syrup-covered strawberry off her plate and chewing it with care. “Not me, I can’t be tamed. Jake is really hot and everything, but I got shit to do, you know?”

You scoffed at her. 

“I’m definitely keeping him in my contacts though,” she said with mischievous eyes. 

+++

 You didn’t directly see Josh for the rest of the weekend, though he left evidence of his presence scattered through the apartment. He had left his hair mousse out on the sink and the toothpaste cap off of its tube in the bathroom, some crumbs of a sandwich he packed for lunch in the kitchen, and a note on his bedroom door. 

Can you please feed Penny a couple of flakes for dinner? If you have any time today, I’d appreciate it if you could spend some of it with her. See you sometime soon! - J

You plucked the paper off the door where it was barely hanging by a thin strip of green floral tape and smiled as you read it again. 

His bedroom was dim, hid away from the sun by his closed blinds. The desk by his door was covered in books - textbooks, music books, books for his English lit class, and one you’d seen him reading for fun on more than one occasion. On the hardwood floor next to his bed was a stack of papers, and even though you knew you shouldn’t you crouched to peek through them. 

They appeared to be rough drafts of plans for the play - nothing too exciting, but they were charmingly eccentric. He had done little doodles of his ideas for sets and props, even a whole sheet of costume ideas that caught your eye. You pulled it from the messy stack and folded it into your pocket. 

Careful not to spill any water, you moved Penny in her globe to your bedside table, but as you stared at her through the glass you frowned. 

You pulled your phone out and snapped a picture of her, trying to make sure you got an accurate portrayal of her size. She looked at you, sticking her lips out of the water in search of food. You remembered Josh’s warning about overfeeding her the first day you’d met him and it brought a genuine smile to your lips. You promised her you’d be back, holding your finger just above the water and letting her press her mouth to it. 

On the ride over to Petsmart, you had called your mom, asking if it would be okay if you borrowed some cash, to which she agreed to after her usual line of questioning. When you pulled into the parking lot, you checked your bank account just to make sure it transferred okay, always nervous that you’d get to the register and your card would decline.

You spent longer than you should have reading articles online as you studied the tanks, all set up in rows for purchase. They weren’t as expensive as you’d expect a water-sealed glass box to be, and after you were confident you had picked the right one, you still had plenty left in your budget for the dressings. 

You picked a couple of fun decorations - a fake log for her to hide in if she wanted to and one that looked like part of a broken Greecian statue. The part that took you the longest was picking out the healthiest-looking plants. You had read that goldfish often like to eat live plants, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy fake ones - the plant lover in you knew it was a cardinal sin. 

A very kind cashier agreed to help you carry your haul to your car, even helping you shift it all correctly so you could make it fit. You left him a secret tip, even though he denied at first, and thanked him profusely.

Getting the tank into the apartment was the hardest part. You realized just how lucky you were that you didn’t live above the first floor. 

By the time you got the tank situated back on his dresser, your muscles - especially in your legs - were protesting, but you weren’t done yet. You grabbed an empty ice cream pail and started to fill the tank, one trip at a time until it was about 3/4’s full of water. 

The decorations had to be shifted multiple times before you liked their position enough to start pouring in the gravel around them. A Youtube tutorial taught you exactly how much of each chemical to add and how to put together the filter, and then you left it to cycle as you returned to your room.

Perched on your bed, you pulled the sheet of costumes from your pocket and studied it. You pinned it to your corkboard. Undeniably, the cutest design he had come up with was for the door mouse - grey fabric, huge ears, and a rope tail. 

The rest of the unfinished costumes were in a cardboard box by the side of your bed - you hadn’t moved it anywhere because you knew you’d be back at it before too long at any given time. You bent down off the side of your bed and rummaged through the different fabrics until you found the one you were looking for - a grey-blue faux suede deal. You were pretty sure you had enough to make it work. 

You fished your phone out from where you had buried it under the covers when you shifted and called the one person that could help. 

“Hello?” Kate mumbled, sounding like you’d just woken her up despite it being noon. 

You giggled at her. “Hi, I’m playing my best friend card. I know you’ve helped so much, but can you please please come work on these costumes with me?”

She hummed and then went silent for a good, long moment. “Give me ten to wake up and get dressed.”

A beaming smile spread across your face. “Kate, I love you so much. I’m going to Venmo you money to get coffee and donuts, okay?”

“Hmm, I do like donuts.” She sounded pleased.

“Good! Bring Jake too.”

+++

The knock on your door came a half-hour later. You jumped from your bed, racing to let them in. Jake was dressed in the softest-looking flannel shirt you’d ever seen, a drink carrier in his hands that housed three drink cups. 

“Okay, so there are three jobs that need to be done. Measuring and marking, cutting, and sewing. If we each take one of those jobs, I’m confident we can finish a couple of the costumes today. I’ll let you guys pick first,” you informed as you lead them into your room. 

“I’ll take cutting,” Kate said, prompting Jake to reply that he’d like measuring. 

You handed Jake the notebook of measurements with a grin. “Rachel,” you started with a sneer. “Did a lot of the calculations for us, thank god. All you have to do is measure out the fabric. The tricky part is making sure you do it in a way that will leave enough fabric for the rest of the costumes.”

“Not a problem,” Jake responded with a smirk. “And I think her name is just ‘Rachel’, not ‘Rachel’.”

Kate shot him a look on your behalf. “I think she was just making a referencing the fact that Rachel left your brother with a huge ass list of things to do completely alone, not that she was jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” you asked accusatorily, a scowl painted on your face. 

Jake put both of his hands up in defense., but he didn’t appear apologetic in the slightest. Smugly, he said, “I’m just saying-”

Kate reached out and smacked his chest. “Jake, shut up. Okay, what one should we start on?”

“I’m going to have Jake start with this one.” You turned to the page in the notebook that showed the measurements for the door mouse, laying it out by him. “This is the main fabric. Kate, I have a lot of the Queen of Heart’s fabric measured and marked already, so I’ll have you start cutting that. There’s a lot of little pieces to that one.”

Kate looked at the six different fabrics you’d laid out for her, one eyebrow cocked at you. “Have you been getting any of your own homework done at all?”

Your cheeks flushed as you nervously rubbed at the back of your neck. “Let’s stay on track, shall we?” you replied, pretty much answering her question. “We’ve got one week until the production, and I know the costumes have to be done at least a day ahead of time.”

They both just stared at you in varying stages of disbelief. 

“Don’t look at me like that. We can do this,” you assured, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than you actually were. “Now let’s get to work.”

+++

When Josh got home, you were nearly sleeping on the couch, the remains of your current project in your lap. You peeked at the clock.

10:54 pm. 

“You’re home so late,” you whispered, for no particular reason. 

“I know,” he agreed, wiping his hand over his face after he took his jacket off. 

“Come sit with me a minute,” you requested, shifting so he would have space. He gave you a grateful smile, immediately crossing the room to do as he was told. 

After a moment, he cautiously wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly. 

You gave him a smile. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

You knew he must have been tired because he wasn’t talking a mile a minute like you were used to after not seeing him for long. 

“Are you hungry?” you asked.

He hummed, sounding like he was close to passing out. “I am, but I can make myself something.”

You scoffed, “Absolutely not. You got get into bed and I’ll bring something to you in a second.”

He reluctantly got up off the couch and clambered into his room. You waited patiently for him to notice the surprise, grinning to yourself when you heard him gasp. 

You listened as you made him a sandwich, and you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but you knew he was talking to Penny just by the tone of his voice.

As you rounded the corner into his room, he turned and gave you a smile as bright as the sun. 

“Did you do this, or did Fish Santa come early?” he asked, his finger pressed against the glass of the tank. 

“Well, kind of both,” you responded through a laugh as you sat next to him on the bed and delivered his sandwich to his lap. “You can consider it your early Christmas present.”

He stared at you for a long beat, looking like he might cry. You knew you’d never be able to handle that, so you pulled him in for a hug, tightening your arms around him when he hugged you back. 

“You’ve been working so hard,” you whispered. “I miss my best friend.”

He turned his face, pressing his nose into your cheek in a move that felt a step or two farther than friends.

“I’ve put everything I have into this,” he admitted, and you were too scared to ask if he meant the play or something else. You sat like that with him for a long moment before he pulled away, giving you a thankful smile. 

“I’m sure you need time to decompress, so I’ll leave you be. Eat and then get some sleep, okay?” You stood and headed for the door, turning when he called your name. 

“Thank you,” he said.

[the-witty-pen-name]

It Was the Kid’s Idea

Valentine’s Day Imagine 

Pairing: Mando x Reader 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none; pure fluff 

Request: “Hi! I saw that you wanted to inspo for Valentines fics! What about if Valentine’s Day is a really big thing on the reader’s planet and Mando is trying their best to impress them or make them feel at home since they’re always traveling? 🥺🥺 something like that!!” 

A/N: Thank you so much @poeandstuff​ for the inspo! I couldn’t stop thinking about this all weekend- just the imagine of Mando and Grogu making homemade Valentine’s and decorations got in my head and just ughh it’s too cute to put into words. 

I hope you all enjoy!! And thank you so much for reading!! 

“I was hoping you’d know how to do this,” Din grumbles, frustrated as he messes up for the millionth time to cut out a perfect heart from the red paper in front of him. 

The child only coos in response, his little hands covered in glue and glitter and he looks up to Din. “Oh no,” Din says at the sight of the little monster, “Come ‘ere you.” Scooping up the child, he brings him from their seats on boulders outside and into the ship, to clean the little guy’s hands. 

“I just don’t understand why it’s so messy,” he grumbles, helping the little guy. He began to start feeling stressed, because he knew you’d be back to the ship at nightfall and nothing he planned was ready. 

For the past two weeks of your travels, you’ve done nothing but talk about this holiday Din had never heard of but was the biggest day for celebration on your home planet. You babbled on and on about the origins and the traditions, and he knew you were homesick thinking about not being there this year. He may have faked annoyance, but he did love to hear everything you wanted to share with him. He made mental notes of every detail you described. 

Now he’s desperately trying his best to get the ship ready to surprise you. The last stop before this planet, he picked up all the supplies he thought he would need. Pulling things together would be easy, he thought. Now, the man is feeling foolish because an impressive bounty hunting resumè and growing up under Mandolorian Creed, doesn’t teach you about frivolous holidays- Nevermind the crafting skills to make the decorations yourself. 

He received the weirdest looks from the people selling in the market, when a fully armored Mandolorian and a green baby were buying red and pink paper, glitter, string, lace, candles, and everything else you mentioned people would decorate with. If he kept it simple, he thought he could decorate the ship when you were away and surprise you when you returned. 

The actual day arrived and Din sent you into town to receive parts he had ordered for the crest. He knew it would take several hours and figured he’d have plenty of time. But now, every heart he tries to make is lopsided and he can’t keep the kid out of the containers of glitter.  

The image of the ship in his head he was trying to achieve for you involved hanging strings of lights outside and around the inside of the crest along with strings of pink and red hearts. The lights were no problem and they were already done. He had soft yellow lights hanging from the outside door of the ship and also around the walls of the inside. 

Now his finished string of messy little hearts would have to be good enough. He had just finished putting it together when he caught the little guy covered in the mess. Once the kid was cleaned up as best Din could get him, he’d need to make sure to ask you how to clean up the glitter mess in the ‘fresher. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to get it all. You’d know what to do, he thought. 

Now he brings the kid back outside and places him on the grass. He had cut out a red heart and hands it to Grogu, also giving him some other supplies. “Make (y/n) something nice,” Din instructs and then stars hanging up the many strings of hearts he’s made. He places some in the nearby trees and then places them around the ship. They hang from the ceiling and look like they are somehow magically floating there. 

Despite the hearts being wildly inconsistent in size and shape, Din actually was feeling proud of himself. He couldn’t wait but see the look on your face when you see he tried to bring your home planet to you. The Mandolorian harbored feelings for you for a very long time and as you told him about this holiday, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to show you how he felt. 

“It’s really all about showing someone how much you care for them and appreciate them,” you had explained. “It’s a day of celebrating love.” 

He even went out very early this morning before you awoke and bought several large bouquets of white, yellow and pink flowers. You said when you have someone as a Valentine you got them a gift, lots of times flowers and chocolates. Din had no idea how many flowers were needed to satisfy tradition so he decided to play it safe and get at least 10 dozen from the flower vendor. He figured that would have to be good enough. He had hidden them on the other side of the ship, so when you left you wouldn’t see them bunched up outside. 

Now he went back and forth from his hiding place, bringing the flowers up to the front. He used them to line the ramp of the crest and still had two bunches left over, one he could give you and one he could have the kid give you. Looking back at his son, Din sighed, seeing the heart was covered in a mound of glitter and ribbon shreds at least the same height as the child. Picking it up and dumping the loose product into the jar carefully, it looked like a heart again, a heart that had been decorated by a toddler with three fingers. 

“You did good, kid,” Din says, patting the little guy on the head affectionately, before bringing it over to a rock to dry. He looked up, seeing that the sun was beginning to set and you’d be back soon. He was incredibly nervous, and he began to doubt himself. He felt responsible for you not being home to celebrate and he wanted to see you happy. If he could’ve, he would’ve gone off course to bring you home. For a while, he was trying to do make it happen. However, the most recent puck was too much to pass on. He hoped the little thing he threw together here would be good enough for you.

He scooped up the child before he caught the frog he had been chasing. Holding him tightly in one arm, he grabbed the homemade valentine in the other. He had planned his entrance for when you would get back. He’d just be casual, and walk out with the kid like nothing was happening. He also figured this way; he wouldn’t have to face you and he could watch your reaction from the safety of inside the ship. It was stupid, but he was so nervous. He was so worried he’d be rejected. He had no idea if his feelings were reciprocated. In his head, this was the perfect plan, but now his heart is in his stomach.

“Din, I’m almost back,” your voice rang in his ear from his Commlink. “I’ll be able to see the ship just about… whoa.”

Panicked, Din froze in place for a moment. He was too scared to walk out and face you, until he felt the kid hitting at the chest plate of his armor. He pulled himself together and mustered out the courage to go out and face the consequences of his foolish actions.

“Din, what is this?” you ask, marveling at the beautiful decorations- your own little Valentine’s Day celebration in the middle of the forest. You were almost convinced it wasn’t real and you were hallucinating.

“I mean, it was the kid’s idea,” Mando said hurriedly, trying to play it off. The little guy babbling nonsense like he was swearing to his father’s lie. He waved the red card in his hand frantically, more glitter falling off and getting everywhere.

“Oh really?” You say with an eyebrow raised, placing your packages from town down on the ground. “And was he the one who put this all together?” You ask, seeing how as soon as Mando releasing him, he just walks in a circle, fascinated by his own little shadow.

“Yeah,” Mando responded tentatively, “I mean it kind of just appeared. I don’t know.”

You couldn’t contain the smile forming on your face. You were beyond touched that he would do this for you, even though he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. You knew this was difficult to him, matters of emotions were never his strong suit. He spoke by using his actions, he always had, and you always noticed.

You noticed when he would protect you on missions before looking out for himself. You saw him when he would get up and tend to the kid at night, even if was your turn. You noticed that he would give you his full attention when you would talk to him about anything. He would carry you home on nights where you felt like your legs wouldn’t work. You pick up on how carefully he would help you dress your injuries after a bad run-in.  No small gesture he made went unseen and you loved everyone of the silent confirmations of his true feelings towards you. And now he just outdid himself in a way you could have never imagined.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” you say softly, unable to look in his eyes but settling to rely on the good faith he was meeting your gaze under the helmet. Of course, he was. He was watching every move, every facial expression as always. “Din, I absolutely love this.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, looking around nervously. His eyes follow the green trouble maker wobble over to you to be picked up, his gift for you in hand. You scoop him up in your arms and take the heart from him.

“Is this for me?” You ask with a big smile, looking at the kid. He erupted into a fit of happy giggles when you planted a kiss on his wrinkly head. “Thank you, I love it,” you whispered to him. He coos and snuggles himself into your chest. You chuckle at the little guy’s actions before looking back to Din. “I think he likes me,” you joke.

“He loves you,” Din says, smiling at the two of you. His little family. He walks over and wraps his arms around your waist, relieved you can’t see how much he’s shaking. You can tell he’s nervous. Embracing both you and the kid he whispers, “And he’s not the only one,” he admits softly, “I do too.”

“I love you too,” you reply, sighing contently. You feel the butterflies and nervousness in your stomach mixed with a feeling of relief. Months of dancing around the feelings and the never acknowledging the tension between the two of you was finally over, and in his own way, he’s shown you by all this how much he cares.

“There’s just one problem though,” you say, just as you feel begin to relax. He immediately stiffens.

“W-what?”

“You didn’t ask me to be your Valentine…”

“Gods,” he mutters, shaking his head. He frantically removes his helmet and presses his lips to yours in a kiss, before you even register that he just took his helmet off for you. His hand holds the back of your head gently, as his lips move against yours. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours.

“(y/n), will you be my Valentine?” he asks, his beautiful brown eyes looking into yours for the first time without the helmet hindering his vision of you.

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, bringing a hand to his cheek, propping the child on your hip so you had the free hand. You completely miss the question, too in awe of the man in front of you. “What about the Creed?” you ask worriedly.

“You’re worth it, cyar’ika,” he mumbles, “I’d have left it all if you had asked me too. You and him are the two most important things in my galaxy. The moment him and you arrived in my life, the Creed became second.”

“Din,” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you so much, cyar’ika.”

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

[anneshirlei]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by @marycontraire, thank you!

favourite colour: yellow. I LOVE yellow with a passion, I think it's just such a bright happy color and it makes me feel good. I also love wearing yellow, it matches my skin tone and I feel cuter when I have my yellow cropped on.

currently reading:  technically I am reading Anne's house of dreams, but I didn't start yet. But the last book I read was She Said by the journalists who unconvered the Epstein cases of sexual abuse in hollywood and let me tell you, that book is amazing!

I am also reading tons of fanfics, so that totally counts, right?

I had plans to read three books before February so I can get ahead of my 'at least one book a month in 2022' but I moved out and had a lot going on, feeling lazy included, but I want to get started this weekend. Hopefully.

last song: Don't take the money - bleachers

last series: my roommate and I are watching Pose and I had no idea it was that good. The acting? Perfect. The production? Amazing. Literally everything? ON POINT. Does Angel deserve Papi? We'll find out but so far, nah.

sweet, savoury or spicy: SWEET. All the way, no questions asked. My brother calls me little ant cause I find all the sweets he hides from me and eat it all. But I also do love spicy food. But nothing beats sweet. Chocolate >>>>>>>> literally everything.

currently working on: I am working on two fics at the moment, my kanej multichapter and the first chapter is almost done (pls let me finish this, I need people's opinion on it otherwise I'll lose my mind) and my Big Bang fic for Six of Crows Big Bang and I'm very excited for that one cause it's unlike anything I've ever written.

tagging: these two strangers I know nothing about: @stilesssolo and @ronsweasley and whoever wants to do this :)

[violetnotez]

Ok... Can I request how Suga, Hinata, and Nishinoya (separately) would be where the reader's their S/O and they're quarantined with them and the reader likes to paint? If this is too specific you can take some of the details from the request away. ^-^

I recently painted outside for the first time in a while, and it was honestly one of the most theuraptic things I’ve done in a while...something about painting a sunset at sunset is just so nice, ya know?

Characters: Suga, Hinata, Nishinoya (HQ)

Masterlist | Kofi | Request a Fic | Commission Info

Suga

You two had been stuck inside for weeks now, only venturing out if absolutely necessary

So it’s been a long few weeks of just eating ramen and cuddling on the couch, browsing Netflix for hours on end or studying together for online classes

But this weekend you decided it was time to pull out the paints and do something a little productive

You both thought it would be cute to decorate some rocks and lay them in your flower garden you two were growing

It was one of those just perfect days that were sometimes rare to get-the sun was lazily sitting in the sky, warm beams of delicious golden light illuminating the air

Everything was bathed in gold, the sky a clear ocean blue and the wing soft and pleasantly cool

Soft, acoustic music was playing, somebody near your home cookingsomething up inside, the nostalgic smell of charcoal wafting through the air

It just felt peaceful

Suga was humming to an acoustic track, vocalizing the notes as he busied himself with his project

You had come to learn to Suga was meticulous about many things, just by living with him- he liked putting his attention into one thing and one thing only until it was completed to how he liked it

This was the case for even this little project, Suga being uncharacterically quiet as he worked on the little painting. He was only this quiet and calm when he was studying, so it was strange to see him so focused on something other than that

But you weren’t complaining much, as it was perfect opportunity to just unapologetically watch him do his thing

He just look so damn pretty, it was unfair-the sun was making his gray hair glint silver, the strands almost taking on a glow

His button up was rolled up past his elbows, exposing the faint veins of his callused hands, the pain brush fitting so perfectly in his grasp, beauty mark in full display as his tongue poked gently out of the corner of his mouth

You took a break from painting your own rock, settling to just lazily stare at him...because why paint when you have a masterpiece right in front of you?

Nishinoya

, doing anything together just instantly turns CHAOTIC

Coupled with the fact that Nishinoya is antsy from staying inside for so long, it’s practically like taking care of a 5 year old

A very clingy 5 year old

He’s so bored, he’s practically latched to your hip just for some comfort and something to do

If you’re making food, he’s right beside you insisting to help

Even if it’s instant ramen 💀

Or if your on the couch he’s sprawled our all over you, giving you puppy eyes to pet his hair how he likes it

He literally will literally sit in the bathroom as your taking showers and just talk to you just because he’s that clingy

So when you pull out your paints he’s obviously like I GOTTA DO IT TO 😁😁😁

It’s actually really cute, he’s face goes from ☺️ to 😆 the moment he realizes you guys are gonna be doing some bonding timeeeee

You had been really bored, and always wanted to sit and fully do a Bob Ross video with your undivided attention-so this was the perfect time to do it!

You would think Nishi would be really messy with the paint, but he’s not which is soooooo surprising

He takes great care in his project, cause he knows what you guys are painting is going to go up somewhere in

It’s just little canvases but goddamn it he’s gonna out it up in his home cause it’s CUTE

He was really excited at first, but honestly got REALLY bored

He’s hyper, his body is not meant for stillness and calm 💀

Probabaly starts drawing werewolves in his picture and saying it adds “flavor”

Whatever the fuck that means 😂💀

He’s just a total prankster, so of course he starts messing with you as your painting

At one point he just swipes so paint on your cheek-

And he’s just like “Oops!” With the most sh it eating grin everrrrrrrr

It’s onnnnnnnnn

Long story short, you both look like kindergarten paint projects from a paint war 💀

Hinata

Like Nishinoya, just so HYPERRRRR

and also incredibly clingy 💀

He’s just so BORED

He has no friends to play volleyball with (except you), he cant go and workout-he has no where to put his energy

So get ready for Hyper Hinata but like times 1000

Will always be doing the weirdest shit to burn off some energy, like he ordered a whole ass VR set one day just cause

That kinda entertained him for like a week-

Until he found some zombie game that had him freaking out and screaming like a girl

Wanted to be cuddled ever night after that it was kinda funny

Also you’ll just walk into a random room and he’ll be in there stretching in wierd poses and or just running in place

I’m telling ya, the mans got ALOT of energy-it’s like having a grown 5th grader 24/7 💀

One day you pull out your paints thinking it would be a good thing for the guy to burn off some energy

He honestly gets SO excited, cause thank god soemthing new to do!

You both go outside, him waiting patiently in a criss cross position as he watched you set everything up

I’m telling ya, he’s like a 5th grader

Once you have everything, he immediately jumps up and can’t wait to start

Until he has no idea what to actually paint 💀

For a bit he just sits there and watches you paint-

Cause you just look so cute, and really pretty so concentrated on one task but so calm at the same time

But then he wierdly starts getting jealous of the canvas-

Like why did it have so much of your attention? Why can’t he have some of that?

Lmao clingy Hinata 😂💀

So he just blurts out “Can you paint me?”

And your just like-huh?

He then clarified by pulling his shirt sleeve up to his collarbone,

“Can you paint on me?”

And you’re like ohhhhh 😯

You were a first a little worried, cause you didn’t know if the paints were toxic or not to skin-but once you made sure you weren’t, you agreed!

Happy Hinata 😌

Once you scoot over so close to him, he feels his cheeks get warm and his heart quicken, loving how your hand ghosted over his skin

He told you to do whatever you wanted as long you painted his whole arm, so you decided to just paint a sunset full of clouds

He was such a baby at first tho, complaining about how cold the paint was 😂💀

But after awhile he becomes very accustomed to it, and he is so calm and relaxed

You swear you’ve never heard him this quiet

Probabaly almost falls asleep and jolts himself back awake before his head totally hits the concrete 💀

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Comfort and Care

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

Blurb: Dominique comes over to help the reader feel a bit better after a bad week

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: so this is very self indulgent! I haven’t been doing too well mentally and that isn’t really portrayed in the fic but I wrote this because of that... I hope you enjoy! (Also I may write more lost girls content? We will see what happens! Let me know what you’re all vibing with!)

You cried yourself to sleep. You could barely focus on your studies and you didn’t even have the strength to brush your teeth. 

You wanted it all to stop. The feeling to pass. You hated it and you hated yourself for it. 

You didn’t want to get up and move, but you knew you had to. 

—

You groaned and got up from your bed. Your reflection was sad— reflecting your current state— your hair was oily, a sign you needed to shower, Your skin was breaking out again, and your pajamas looked wrinkled and worn from you wearing them for days on end. 

You didn’t have the strength or energy to change and make yourself presentable, but you had plans to meet your friends at the boardwalk. 

You didn’t want to go. But you had to. They’d be upset you canceled on them. You hadn’t seen them since last weekend. 

“Ugh! Fuck it!” They probably wouldn’t care anyway. 

You went to the kitchen to grab the landline and dial-up the Emerson’s home phone. 

If Grandpa hasn’t wrecked it yet. 

It rang. It rang, and it rang, and it rang, and it—

—it stopped. 

“Hello?” 

“Michelle?” You asked. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! What’s up?” 

“Oh um, I don’t… I don’t feel good… I don’t think I’m gonna go to the boardwalk tonight.” 

“Okay… I’ll tell the others. Do you want Dominique to come over? She’s gonna be pissed you didn’t show.” 

A wave of guilt flashed over you. You hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a week… 

She was going to be upset, and you didn’t want to upset her, but you really didn’t want to go out.

“Um, I’ll see her tomorrow…” 

“Okay. Hope you feel better!”

“Thanks…” you put the phone back on the hook and went immediately back to your room. 

You turned on your small tv, not bothering to see what was on, and buried yourself under the covers, and tried to fall asleep to the sounds of the television. 

—

“(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” 

You groaned as you slowly awoke. “Hhhhhhhh…” You rubbed your eyes and opened them. 

Above you was Dominique. She was straddling your lap, her hand cradling your cheek. 

“You’re up.” 

“What— what are you doing here?” You asked. 

“Michelle said you didn’t feel good,” She stated. 

“Yeah, but—“ 

“I brought you snacks, some blankets, your heating pad you left at the cave, I even brought some movies from Darcy’s collection.”

“Thanks...” 

Dominique frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired. Tired of everything. I’m so overwhelmed but I don’t do anything! I feel so alone all the time. Which is stupid as hell, but—“ 

“Oh, Kitten, it’s okay… I get it…” 

“It’s so stupid. I’m stupid. I wish I got to see you more often,” You frowned. “My parents are just arguing all the time and I’m worried they’ll drag me into it. I don’t know if I can take it.” 

“Where are they now?” She asked. 

“My mom went to her sister’s and my dad is at my grandpa’s. It’s just us.” 

“Come here,” Dominique helped you get up and lean against your pillow. “It’s okay. This feeling will pass…”

“It feels like it never will. I was doing fine for so long and now I’m not! It’s pathetic.” 

“No. You are not pathetic. You are amazing and strong and doing your absolute best.”  

Dominique tried to give you a kiss, but you flinched.

“What is it?” She asked. 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth today… my breath probably smells awful.” 

“I don’t care. Pumpkin, I’m dead. My breath smells bad all the time. My eyebrows disappear when I vamp out. I kill people.” 

“But still… I’m disgusting. My skin is breaking out again and I look like an oily rat.” 

“When was the last time you showered?” She asked. 

“I don’t even remember. Maybe Monday? I don’t know…” You felt so helpless. You felt so embarrassed in your girlfriend’s arms. 

“How about we take a warm shower? That sound good?” 

“Okay.” 

Dominique led you into the bathroom and helped you strip out of your dirty pajamas. “Have you eaten today?” She asked. 

“Yeah. I had some peanut butter and apple slices.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Coffee.”

Dominique frowned, tossing her shirt off and throwing it with your clothes, “Coffee isn’t a meal, kitten.” 

“Yeah, but I needed the caffeine.”

“After your shower, I’ll make you something to eat. Come on.” 

Dominique stuck her hand out to see if the water from the tub faucet was warm enough. When she decided it was, she pulled the diverter valve, letting the showerhead run. She held your hand, helping you into the shower. 

You stood directly under the showerhead, letting it beat down on your hair. Dom grabbed your shampoo bottle, squirting some product into her hands, before lathering it into your scalp. 

Her body pressed against yours. It was cold. Her hands in your hair were just as chilly. 

You had become used to the feeling, but you still shivered. She was a stark contrast against the hot water coming down.

You rinsed out your shampoo and applied conditioner to your ends. You thought about shaving, but Dominique said that could be done another time. 

You ran your fingers through your hair, washing the conditioner out of the ends when you noticed Dominique’s mullet no longer styled. 

“Oh, your hair!” You cooed. “It’s all soaked.”

“It’s fine.” She waved off. “I’ll fix it later.” 

You turned the water off and Dominique grabbed a towel for you. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” You both dried off and looked in your room for some clean clothes. 

“Here’s one of your sweatshirts…” You sheepishly handed over. “I think I have some of your sweatpants too…”

Dominique chuckled. She gave them to you to keep, you didn’t have to be so shy about it. “Thanks, Kitten. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno…”

Dom restated her question. “What do you have?” 

“Uh, I think chicken strips…”

“Pumpkin…” She warned. 

“What?”

“You cannot eat chicken strips for every meal.”

“I didn’t! I made pasta this week, and I even had a vegetable!” 

“Good! Good, I’m proud. Sit at the counter and I’ll find something to make.” A small smile snuck its way onto your face as you got yourself an empty glass and filled it with water. You sat down, watching Dom look through your fridge and cupboard. 

“Want me to make salmon? Or was your mom saving that?”

“Oh, um, if it’s in the freezer go ahead.” 

You watched Dominique take out a baking tray, and place a piece of foil over it. She poured olive oil over it and added some spices to season the bottom side of the salmon. She cut up a lemon into thin slices, placing some on the pan and saving the rest for the top of the fish. She placed the salmon onto the tray and added more seasoning. 

“I’m going to steam some veggies too. Can you get them out for me, Pumpkin?” 

“Yeah,” You got up from your seat and opened the fridge. “We just have carrots and broccoli… um, there’s also some rice leftover from… I think Thursday…?” 

“Get it out. I can reheat it.” 

You placed it all on the counter for Dom to have access to. You sat back down and continued watching her cook as you absentmindedly sipped on your water. 

As Dom steamed the carrots and broccoli, heated the rice, and cleaned up, she just had to wait for the fish to finish cooking in the oven. 

She turned her attention to you. 

she cupped your face with one hand gently, “You look tired.” 

“So do you,” You teased. 

Dominique squinted her eyes. “Are you trying to cause trouble?” 

“No…” You had to hold back a giggle. She rolled her eyes and kissed your forehead. 

“Lemme get you some more water.” She took your cup and refilled it. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mhmm,” Dominique glanced at the oven timer. There was a little less than two minutes left for the salmon. 

“I’m going to see if it’s done. It probably is.” She opened the oven door and—

“Use an oven mitt!” You reminded her. 

Dom almost scoffed, “Kitten, my skin will heal in a week—“ 

“It will smell like burnt flesh for weeks if you don’t use an oven mitt. And I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Dominique found it sweet how much you cared about her, even if it was in a minuscule moment like this. She grabbed the nearest oven mitt— yellow, with a sunflower design all over. It clashed with her aesthetic for sure, but safety before fashion. 

Dom pulled the salmon out and poked it with a fork.

“yeah, I think it’s done. I’ll take it out and let it cool. Get yourself a plate.” 

You did as you were told, and you filled your plate up with vegetables and rice and your piece of salmon. 

“Are you going to eat anything?” You asked Dominique. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You sure?” 

“If I want some food, I’ll take it from you later, and besides, I only need blood to survive.” She reminded you. 

“Have you drank lately? Do you need to? You can have some of my blood while we watch a movie, I don’t mind,” You told her as you took your plate and headed to your bedroom. 

“I’m fine, pumpkin.” She shut the door behind you, put a random movie in the tv’s tape player, and made herself comfortable on your bed. 

“Besides, I don’t want to drink from you right now, it will affect your mood… and I want you to get better… Okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Dominique stroked your cheek, “Don’t feel bad, (Y/N). I can get blood from anyone… but I can only get one of you, and I want you to be happy. You’re my girlfriend, I care about you a lot.” 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or not. 

Dom wasn’t always the best with words, and she had a bit of trouble saying “I love you”, which you didn’t mind. She showed she loved you in other ways than just words. Like coming over with movies and blankets because you said you weren’t feeling good, or washing your hair for you, or cooking you dinner. 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

“Mhmm,” She wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead. 

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Random Fics (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

all the light we cannot see (ao3) - uselessphillie

Summary: "Hello, we met for two minutes at a party last weekend and I left because I assumed you were a twat but I’ve been stalking you online and have realized the error of my ways. I’m entranced by your portraits and am desperate to know what it’s like to be photographed by you also you have nice eyes and the memory of your smile helps calm me down so I think I might like to get to know you better would you also like that?"

or, the one where phil is the only person to have ever really seen him.

Come Closer (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: It's the 19th of October, 2009.

This is Phil's story.

Dan Doesn't Like Harry Styles (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: At a big awards event Dan and Phil find themselves alone in a room with Harry Styles. Harry seems to enjoy flirting with Phil while Dan's blood boils, he wants Phil- Harry can't have him, but he keeps his mouth shut and watches the relationship happen.

Demons And Diners (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: A broke Dan, on the run from his previous life, finds temporary shelter in an abandoned diner...for the night? (Dan POV)

feel foreign (ao3) - paladumb

Summary: things that are foreign & familiar

flashlight in the dark (ao3) - cuddlydreamsonrainydays

Summary: Daily, Dan is bombarded with fleets of thoughts that aren't his. They show him the vilest side of humanity. No wonder he doesn't hold his species or himself in particularly high esteem. He has accepted that there are no truly good people in the world.

But then there's Phil, who just won't bow down to this rule. It's annoying, really. And Dan doesn't like it at all. Why would he?

Fresh Paint (ao3) - freckliefeeling (orphan_account)

Summary: "It’s just a house, they have to keep reminding themselves. Just a house, but it feels bigger."

I Know You Really Well (And Like You Anyway) (ao3) - abriata

Summary: At the time, Phil had rather liked the idea of playing matchmaker for two of his friends, especially when one of them was Dan, who seemed like he might like a little support in the dating arena.

In Phil's defense, he'd only known Dan about five weeks. He hadn't learned yet.

it's no good (unless it's real) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: The first time it happens is an accident.

(Or, the one where Dan accidentally starts reverse-dating Phil in the midst of executing a foreign tour, sharing the world's tiniest mattress, and generally failing at Amish table-making.)

kissing on the kitchen floor, our friendship up against the ropes (ao3) - glasseslouis

Summary: it's 2009, dan still can't fully comprehend that he's sat in phil's bedroom filming pinof, and they decide to indulge themselves.

much-a-dough about muffin (ao3) - tinydragon (tiny_dragon)

Summary: Dan is the best baker in his apartment building until his new neighbour shows up and threatens his position (and his dignity). It turns out that actually, he might have a competitive streak.

Professionally, Yours (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: Dan is an overworked, underpaid, very homosexual uni student in need of an easy job. Phil is a successful, rather lonely businessman in need of a housekeeper. This is their story. Fluff/smut, 31.2k, written for the Phandom Big Bang 2016

take my hand (take my whole life too) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: The only reason that Dan even says it in the first place is because he’s drunk and they really, really need a new toaster.

(Or, the one with the accidental proposal and almost-accidental marriage.)

The Anatomy of Your Umbrella (ao3) - KittyCatriona (War_Worn_Lipstick)

Summary: Phil starts meeting Dan in his dreams, and Dan misses the way the rain used to make him feel.

the laws of geometry (ao3) - snsk

Summary: But after the next lesson Phil was fine and touched Dan’s horn hoodie easily and teased him about his wet curls, and Dan wondered when the simply wanting to drop to his knees and suck him off as he explained Byrne v. Boadle had turned into wanting to turn his head and kiss the pads of his fingers.

What He Wants (ao3) - bestelitecouple

Summary: Dan Howell always gets what he wants.

From the car he was given on his sixteenth birthday, to the job as president of the Drama Society in Year Ten, Dan has everyone wrapped around his finger. He likes to do things a very specific way, his way, and he’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even if it means fucking Phil Lester until his ass falls off in order to keep the auditorium for the Drama Society. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself. (Or in which Dan and Phil are both presidents of different honors societies that have to share the school’s auditorium and work together for the production of the spring musical. Dan, being a brat, comes up with a dumb plan to get it back, which works fine, until his feelings come into the mix.)

What They Don't Know (ao3) - TwistedRocketPower

Summary: Phil shouldn't have done it. He realizes that now. But, he felt pressured and he didn't know what else to say so it just slipped out. And now he and Dan were going to be spending three weeks with his family. His family who, because of Phil's nervousness and inability to think properly, all thought Dan and Phil were engaged.

Xeno's Dichotomy (ao3) - KittyCatriona (War_Worn_Lipstick)

Summary: Dan’s been thinking too much—so much that everything seems impossible. But eventually he realizes that to move forward, you just have to take a step. OR: The one where Dan and Phil rebrand, and the author is an insufferable know-it-all.

[jamilelucato]

hi!! I just followed and saw your open request for hp fics!! congrats btw!! I was wondering if you could write for me either a Fred Weasley x reader or Sirius Black x reader with Enemies to Lovers? If y/n could be a hufflepuff that'd be awesome too lol ❤️❤️ also I'm here for the banter + unresolved sexual tension 👁️👄👁️ thank you!!

Gryffies and Puffies [F. W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: Fred and [y/N] were never close, in fact, they hated each other, but Angelina is determined to change that.

A/N: Hi! Thank you, really! I tried to follow your request as much as I could, sorry if the Hufflepuff portrait is not much Hufflepuff like, I’m not one and I don’t have many friends that are, but I tried to keep it as I knew. Hope you like it! (gif not mine)

Last chance to send a request! || Harry Potter Masterlist

Although, generally, [y/N] doesn’t bother doing her homework way earlier than needed, this time she knew she had to start soon if she wanted a good grade.

Professor Snape wasn’t very fond of the Hufflepuff’s students, so, as a proud member of her house, [y/N] felt like she had to prove the Professor wrong, and show the authoritarian how smart Hufflepuffs can be.

It was the third book she had got from the Library, and this one specifically was just about the subject — Ageing Potions — but [y/N] seemed more lost than before while reading it. Sh even asked, politely, to the Librarian if the book was in English because she couldn’t understand a full paragraph.

“Having trouble there?” asked Angelina Johnson before sitting down in the chair next to [y/N]’s.

[y/N] smiled at her long-time friend. Angelina’s mom was a great friend of [y/N]’s mom, and so, they grew up together, as a weird but cool duo. Angelina had a more explosive personality, when [y/N] was generally softer and prefered to talk instead of punching.

“A lot, actually,” [y/N] sighed. “Have you started yours yet?” the sixth-years Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors shared Snape’s classes, so [y/N] knew Angelina had the same assignment as her.

“Oh, haven’t even started,” answered Angelina, catching one of the books in front of them and flipping through it.

“Angie! Professor Snape already has something against you, don’t give him an extra to work with!” [y/N] retorted, genuinely worried for her friend.

Angelina chuckled. “By something against me, you mean because I sit with the twins?”

“Exactly!” the girls burst into soft laughter.

Angelina knew that [y/N] was out for the Weasley twins ever since third-year when they painted the whole Hufflepuff common room black for one week. Professor Flitwick had to step in to help get rid of the magical paint.

But that wasn’t just it. It seemed as if whenever [y/N] got into trouble, the twins, and more specifically, Fred Weasley, was around.

“So... Hogsmeade this weekend. You comin’?” asked Angelina when the laughter calmed down.

“Nope, got this to finish,” [y/N] sighed, pointing to the parchment blank. “Or gotta start it.”

Angelina protested, “come on, you never come!”

“With you, I don’t!” [y/N] frowned. “You always bring them!”

“They’re my best friends!”

“Ouch,” [y/N] pretended to be offended, but only gained a shove from Angie before her best friend started laughing again. Those two were always laughing.

“I promise they’ll behave,” Angie sparkled her dark brown eyes towards [y/N], and seeing a pit face, [y/N] knew she had lost.

“Fine,” the Hufflepuff agreed, closing the books in front of them, knowing very well that no preparation in the world would make her homework worthy of a good grade in Snape’s eyes. “But you owe me one.”

“Put it on the account,” smiled Angie.

***

“Here she comes, the Hufflepuff princess,” smirked an inpatient Fred Weasley, watching with a brow raised as [y/N] finally got out of the train.

Without staring the identical redheads, [y/N] apologized to Angelina, “sorry, got stuck with Bryan and Clary, they were tellin’ me about the...”

“No one cares, puffie,” Fred whispered, in a voice that sounded almost like a whistle.

“Shut it, Weasley,” [y/N] warned, with a tired look. If her visit to Hogsmeade was going to be like that, she did not know if she’d be able to honour the motto of kindness and forgiveness of her Hogwarts House.

“Oh, she acknowledges I’m here,” Fred smirked again, “finally.”

[y/N] rolled her eyes, wrapping her arm around Angelina’s, while she murmured apologies. The two girls took the lead, while the twins followed, and [y/N] could swear that every announced turn she and Angie decided to take, she could hear Fred sighing in complain — and she was loving that.

“First stop: Honeydukes!” [y/N] shouted, stating the way.

Angelina stopped when she noticed Fred had stopped too.

“No way — Zonko’s first,” he debated.

[y/N] turned around, facing the redhaired boy — really facing him, like she had not done yet. She sometimes forgot how cute he was.

Well, any boy taller than her, she considered cute really, because she loved how they leaned down to look at her — and Fred had a lot of leaning down to do.

“Honeydukes,” [y/N] said, hoping her voice sounded as scary as Professor Snape because he was the one she was trying to imitate.

“Look, you can eat later, puffie, but the good products will sell out if George and I don’t go to Zonko’s now,” he continued his pledge.

“You two go then — I’m going Honeydukes first,” [y/N] was trying her hardest to stand her point, but when Angelina and George puffed next to them, she lost a bit of her posture.

“You expect George and I will let you two girls walk around alone?”

“I don’t need a bodyguard!” [y/N] shouted, crossing her arms.

“If that’s supposed to be your scare-people-away face, then yes, you need bodyguards,” Fred argued.

“Let’s go to Zonko’s first, y/N. It’ll give less time for the chocolates to melt,” Angelina stepped in the argument, knowing that the two would continue to argue all day if they could. In fact, Angelina had already witnessed them arguing two whole hours about which team was better at Quidditch — and it seemed to be horrible to [y/N] offend Angelina as a player just to win the argument.

Puffing the whole way and not daring to face Fred, [y/N] followed them to Zonko’s. It was easier to avoid looking at him when the boys entered the store (already crowded) and got lost from the girls in the middle of the shelves, their eyes shining with new and classic products.

Taking advantage of the momentary peace, [y/N] wandered around the store, looking for something that could be used for good fun, like some board game. She didn’t realize that Fred was right behind her until he opened his mouth.

His voice a whisper so close to her ear, that it shivered all over her: “you should buy it if you can’t stop staring,” he smirked.

She turned around to face the boy way too close than she expected. Trying to step away, she bumped into the shelve, but fortunately, nothing fell.

“I don’t want a stupid...” [y/N] battled with herself if she should say or not the next word, “furry bear,” she ended up saying because she hated leaving phrases unfinished.

“Yeah, okay,” Fred pretended to believe, puffing his chest.

“I don’t,” [y/N] stated again.

“Sure, if you say so,” he continued his little game.

“Just because Hufflepuffs are kind, it does not mean we like all cute and fluffy and soft things, okay,” [y/N] tried to prove her point using of more complex sentences, but noticing his smile, she thought she only contradicted herself.

“Not all Hufflepuffs are the same,” Fred tried to help her.

“Exactly,” [y/N] crossed her arms.

“But you like the fluffy and plushy,” Fred raised an eyebrow, but he did not look into her eyes.

“Yes,” [y/] agreed, before even realizing what she was saying yes to. She only had time to listen to Fred burst into laughter, she could no longer take back what she said.

But for a second, it didn’t matter; his laugh was worth it. Until it wasn’t.

“So you like plushy, huh,” he repeated non-stop.

“Oh, for Helga’s sake,” [y/N] she puffed, desperately trying to get away from the ginger boy.

***

When the boys had finally bought all they wanted from Zonko’s, [y/N] and Angelina were already outside waiting. There weren’t many things that the girls founded interesting there. Angelina favours Quidditch stuff and, [y/N], as pointed out by Fred himself, prefers fluffy things.

“That took a while,” you pretended to whisper when actually you spoke loud enough for the twins to hear.

“Oh, did we make you wait, puffie?” Fred teased, but [y/N] just rolled her eyes, not ready to fall into his traps again.

“Well, for fairness, it’s you girls’ time to pick a place,” George said, and [y/N] involuntarily smiled at the more delicate Weasley twin.

“Honeydukes!!” [y/N] shouted before Angelina could say anything, but it didn’t matter. The three Gryffindors immediately started giggling at the girl’s excitement to visit the candy store.

Angelina and George got themselves involved in a talk about the new best broom in the market, leaving Fred and [y/N] behind. They both played Quidditch too, but George and Angie made no effort to include them in the conversation.

“See,” [y/N] decided to tease Fred since they were closest, “if we had gone to Honeydukes first, you wouldn’t need to carry those many bags around.”

Fred almost forgot how to walk. He was generally the one that started the teasing — [y/N] wasn’t much of the provocative kind unless she was provoked. However, Fred liked it.

“You would be the one carrying the bags then, genius,” Fred pointed out, turning his face sightless to the right to get a glimpse of her reaction.

“How many sweets do you think I’m buying?” she asked, analyzing the three plastic bags in his left hand and the two others in his right one. She compared it to the three chocolate bars and a couple of chocolate frogs she had in mind, and she was sure it would be just one bag.

Fred shrugged, letting out a soft chuckled. [y/N] might have had a point, but he was not going to admit it.

When they finally arrived at the candy shop, Fred lost sight of [y/N] because she fastly ran inside. Angelina entered the shop too, but George and Fred had so many bags they were afraid to walk in, so they decided to take turns inside.

Fred went in first, excited to see how [y/N] would be in her environment, but he didn’t like what he saw. As soon as he walked in, he saw her in a corner on the left-back, surrounded by some boys. At that distance, Fred would not guess they were Hufflepuffs.

His first instinct was to suppose she was in danger, but then she laughed. Really laughed, in the sweetest way possible, in a way she had never laughed to his jokes.

He knew she was alright, but he wasn’t. He rushed out of the store, surprising George.

“Back so soon?” George asked.

Fred was not in the mood to tell his twin that might have caught feelings for a certain uneasy girl, so he lied.

“Yeah, had no money left. I mean, if I still want a butterbeer,” Fred said, shrugging and taking his brother’s place as the guard of their Zonko’s products.

George said no more, glad to have the chance to buy something sweet for himself. In the middle of the night, after running around with Fred, George loved having a chocolate frog to recharge his energies.

“Next stop,” said Angelina, once the three got out of the candy store, “Three Broomsticks.”

Everybody agreed with ununderstanding whispers. [y/N], as she planned, got out of Honeydukes with only one plastic bag, that she teasingly raised towards Fred, who rolled his eyes, with a troubled expression.  

His reaction wasn’t the one [y/N] was anticipating. She wanted him to make a quick remark, mess with her bad eating habits, anything like that. But ignore a clear chance to mess with her — she did not expect that.

She rushed to Angie’s side, happy to get a chance to gossip with her best girl about what the boys she had met in the shop had just told her.

“So, Luke told me that Cormac McLaggen is chasing after your friend Alicia, is that true?” [y/N] asked.

Angelina turned her face to her best friend, confused with such a question. Not that the two never gossip before, but [y/N]’s tone was generally less invasive and judge than this.

“Why? Are you interested?” Angie asked, raising a brow.

[y/N] almost choked.

“Interested? Me?” she puffed. “Please.”

Behind the girls, one of the twins was paying very close attention to the conversation.

“He’s not really your type, is he?”

“I’m not interested in him,” [y/N] debated. “I could be, but I ain’t.”

Angie turned her face to the front again before pulling the door of the Three Broomsticks. The four got in, and George was looking around for an empty table when [y/N] asked: “what are you guys taking?”

“Butterbeer,” the three Gryffindors answered together, causing the girl to smile at their synchronization.

“I’ll get it; you go sit down,” she was actually being nice because, of all of them, she was the one with fewer bags.

Being friends with Madam Rosmerta had its privileges, such as [y/N] was first attended as soon as she reached the counter.

“Hey, Madam Rosmerta! How’s it goin’?” [y/N] asked, working extra hard her charm. The whole counter was staring at her, half angry, half not believing, that she was being served before them.

When the woman finally gave [y/N] her drinks, she headed to the table her friends had picked, noticing with an exhalation that the only chair left was in the middle of Fred and George.

“That was fast,” pointed out George, getting his butterbeer with a smile and tossing you a sickle.

“No need, it’s on me,” [y/N] said, giving George his coin back. “Actually on Rosmerta, but that’s supposably to be a secret.”

Angelina smiled, reaching for her cup and savouring the butterbeer as if it was more tasteful because it had been free.

Fred looked at you without exactly turning but grabbed his drink anyway.

“Thanks,” he whispered, this time Fred’s tone had no sign of banter.

[y/N] was scared they would remain in that dreadful silence, bt Angelina took her chance to tell everyone about her father’s newest accomplishment and how it would affect them — he had a bought a summer house near the beach. She was sure he would allow her to bring them for a weekend.

“Wow, Angie, count me in! Would love beach day!” [y/N] beamed.

Angelina chuckled. “I’ll see if we can go next holiday.”

The whole table cheered in excitement, and George was so happy that he decided to buy them the next round of butterbeer.

When the day in Hogsmeade was over, [y/N] and Fred got back to their usual bickering. George knew that would happen, but Angie was, in fact, hoping for them to finally develop a real friendship, better than the day to day teasing.

Days and months went by. [y/N] ended up getting the better side of Professor Snape, after all — he said her essay was the best one from that class.

Angelina kept trying to connect Fred and [y/N], but it was like she was running from him. Fred seemed neutral about it all, and that was a first.

“So my father got back to me...” Angelina started telling the twins as soon as the Quidditch practice was over.

“And?” George was genuinely enthusiastic.

“And we can go for the Easter holiday!” cheered Angelina. “Unless your mom doesn’t allow you to come...”

“Molly will be pleased to have two less in the house,” admitted George.

“Is [y/N] coming?” Fred asked, raising his voice so he could be heard since he was in the back of the tent.

Angelina exchanged looks with George before answering, scared that he wouldn’t like her answer. “Yes, she is, and I hope you behave.”

“Are you saying that to her?” Fred retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t the one who messes with her,” Angelina tilted her head towards Fred, who just shrugged, puffing as if he was innocent. “Well, gonna invite Alicia and Katie. See you later.”

***

Part of [y/N] wondered why she had said yes. Sure, Angelina Johnson was her best friend of all times, but still, as her father drove you two to the beach house, all she could think of was that it would be a house filled with Gryffindors and she would be the only outsider.

She wasn’t friends with the others. She could become friends with Alicia and Katia, she guessed, and George was somewhat of a colleague, but Fred? Oh, Helga, she signed in for a nightmare.

Since the Hogsmeade trip a couple of months ago, things without explanation kept on happening with [y/n] more often than before. Clothes coloured in bright pink, her cat turning in with two tails instead of just one, and she even received letters with nothing written on — those were the most confusing of the pranks. Again, she was almost sure it was Fred’s fault, but since the pranks were harmless, she never confronted him about them.

Angelina and [y/N] had time to settle themselves down in a room just for the two — Katie and Alicia were getting another one, and Fred and George the one far most at the end of the corridor.

When the six kids were all together, things started getting, well, exciting. There was no way Fred and George were going to let that trip be a bore.

Without parents around, you six stayed on the beach until 4 a.m, watching the sun rising far away. Alicia had brought some firewhisky, but since it was only two bottles, the group decided to save for later.

When [y/N] woke up on the second day, she found herself lying in a mattress-shaped floater, tossed in the middle of the pool.

“WEASLEYS!!” she shouted, waking the whole house up.

With no wand around, [y/N] had no option but to jump in the pool and swim to get out of there. When she managed to cross half of the backyard, Fred and George appeared at the door, and you took a glimpse inside the house, where the girls ate breakfast like nothing was happening to [y/N].

“Morning-swim, huh?” Fred crossed his arms, smirking slightly.

“You’ll pay for that, Fred,” she replied, shaking, the coldness of the water that soaked her combined with the wind of the beach was not doing her good.

“Cute pyjamas, puffie” he continued teasing as she passed him by — his eyes following her back as she went upstairs. The nickname was not something she was quite fond of, especially because she knew he used it just because of her house.

George nudged his twin. “Don’t ask why she doesn’t like you,” George said, leaving his brother at the door and sitting down next to Alicia.

“What? You helped,” pointed down Fred, sitting too.

“Yeah, but she likes me,” George raised a brow, his confident expression did not even shake at the dark look his twin cast.

*** When the night came, [y/N] was sure she had gotten a tan, but after she got in the shower and took a good look in front of the mirror, it was like the tan was gone. She wasn’t hurt, though, so it wasn’t all bad.

Getting downstairs, she noticed that the group hadn’t been able to keep themselves away from the firewhisky any longer, because the only two bottles were displayed in the middle of the table set outside in the backyard.

[y/N]’s white dress was practically sparkling in the dim light of outside, and for a minute, Fred was out of breath, staring at her in a way he had never before.

Well, actually... Never before since they arrived. But Fred was not gonna mention the other thousand times she left him breathless by her looks.

“Where’s Angie?” [y/N] asked before sitting down, noticing that her bestie was the only one left.

“Still showering. Angie says she can feel the sand everywhere yet,” explained Katie.

“And who’s to blame...” [y/N] wondered aloud, trying to provoke the twins who had been fighting everyone in the sand earlier.

Even though Fred teased her the whole afternoon — how she would never win him in the fight, how she was laze, how he was fast — she didn’t give in, preferring to get sunbathed. It didn’t work though, but at least she didn’t have sand in all weird places now.

Angie finally got outside, wearing a beautiful set of shorts and a floral blouse.

“Let’s start the game, come on, I really need it,” she said, and the whole table agreed.

They played an updated version of beer pong, the muggle game, and [y/N] was losing badly to everyone else. That meant that she was the one drinking more, and, for Helga, she was not used to it, but with time, the effects seemed to disappear.

When the game was over, [y/N] had been sitting for minutes at the edge of the pool, wetting only her feet. There was a cup of firewhisky in her hands, but even if not drunk, she knew she shouldn’t keep drinking it.

Someone found a way to play muggle music, and Angelina, Alicia, Katie and George were having the time of their lives in the improvised dance floor.

Fred was walking, as silently as he could, towards [y/N]. He wasn’t very fond of the music playing, and he wasn’t as drunk as the others. Generally, he would have pretended to be, like George was doing, just for the fun of it, but watching [y/N] all alone, he knew he had to something about her.

“Hey,” she smiled softly, noticing the boy sitting down next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, but she never answered. She put the cup down though — Fred thought that was a good sign. “I’m sorry about the pool earlier.”

[y/N] stared back at him, this time trying to analyze every aspect of his face. Like how he had moe freckles on his left cheek then the right. How his nose was big but yet perfectly pleasant to look at. How he was leaning towards her even though he wasn’t noticing. But she did. And she leaned in too.

“You know, if you wanted my attention, there were other ways to get it,” she said, surprising herself with the bravery to speak up.

Fred froze.

“You could have apologized to my cat, that would’ve been nice, for starters,” she said, this time surprising him, who laughed it off.

“He didn’t like the extra tail?”

“He actually did,” she joined him in the laughter, remembering her pet playing with a smile in her dorm room because he now had two tails. “Hey, how did you found out that he was my cat and not any other?”

Fred smiled in the dim light.

“He was the fluffiest,” was his answer. [y/N] elbowed him, pretending to be angry, but she knew that, unfortunately, her cat was the furriest cat Hogwarts had ever seen.

After a moment of silence, [y/N] decided she better get back to her room — and she hoped this time she would wake up there too. Getting up without warning, she ended up scaring Fred.

“Where are you going?” he asked, getting up too.

“Back to bed,” she said. “Better get a good night sleep before tomorrow — it is our last day after all.”

Fred wrinkled his nose. He knew she was right, but he also knew that it was his last chance to do something with her, at least, under the spark of the moon.

But she seemed so far away...

“Well, at least let me accompany you,” Fred offered [y/N] his arm, which she took with a smile.

They walked in silence — the rest of the group didn’t even notice they were gone.

[y/N] was about to get to her room when Fred stopped her.

“Wait,” he was confused whether it was the best time or not, but it was his only time so... “wait here, I’m gonna grab something for you.”

He walked to the end of the corridor, rushing to his room. Fred was rummaging through his suitcase, looking for what he wanted to give her.

[y/N] waited patiently — and quite anxiously — for whatever Fred was going to give her.

“Here, ” he said, giving her something he had hidden in his back. [y/N] grabbed from his hands, surprised with the texture of what she got. “I don’t know if Angelina ever mentioned me and my brother want to open a joke shop, and well, this product... You kinda inspired me to do it.”

She studied the hairy, yellow ball in her hands. Thankfully, she held it gently, because when she turned the thing over, she noticed that two little blue eyes were staring at her, startled.

“Oh my Helga, Freddie, is this alive?” she asked, but the answer didn’t really matter because she was already petting the small furry ball.

“It’s she, actually,” he smiled, noticing how happy she was with the gift. “Has no name, though.”

“What is she?” she asked while playing with the pet, noticing she was warming up to [y/N]’s touch.

“George and I named it Pygmy Puff — a miniature Puffskein,” Fred explained, petting the furry ball too. “They are generally pink or purple, so yours was made with a lot of care.”

[y/N] looked up from the yellow Pygmy Puff to Fred and tilted her head, uncontrollably smiling.

“Guess the Pygmy Puff has something to do with me too,” [y/N] teased.

“The whole thing has something to do with you,” Fred let out, blushing immediately, but [y/N] didn’t notice. Fred fake-coughed. “So, what will you name her?”

[y/N] thought about it for a while. “I guess it would only make sense if she was named Gryffie. After all, her creator is a Gryffindor,” [y/N] blushed but avoided looking at Fred, focusing solemnly in the Pygmy Puff.

“It makes sense,” Fred looked from the pet to the girl and bit his inner cheek. “Two houses come together for an invention.”

“That’s the Hogwarts spirit,” [y/N] laughed it off. “Thank you, Fred,” she said before leaning on tiptoes to place a kiss on Fred’s cheek.

The Pygmy Puff enjoyed the time with no attention and walked from [y/N]’s hand to her shoulder, and Fred stared at the fluffy thing while [y/N] kissed him.

And somehow it felt like the pet was trying to say something.

[y/N] stepped away and said good-night, entering her room with a sad look. She didn’t want the night to end. So, after placing Gryffie on the bed, she turned to the door, ready to open it again. But Fred was faster.

They stared for a full second before both rushed towards each other, locking their lips in a soft but potent kiss.

Fred’s hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as closer as Fred could — close as he always wished she was. [y/N], of course, ran her fingers through his hair, something she had been wanting to do for a while now, and she was glad to find such fluffy and soft hair.

They were breathless, but neither wanted to pull away. Fred leaned to her neck, finding her sensitive spot right away, and there was nothing better than hearing her moan so close to his ear.

Behind them, the Pygmy Puff made some sound weird, but they just laughed it off and pulled each other closer again, as if they could be closer than they were.

The Pygmy Puff cried again, and this time non-stop, so [y/N] had to pull away. She was the mother of that pet for only a couple of minutes, but she was very protective over it already.

“What is it?” she murmured towards the fluffy ball at the same time Fred cleared his throat, making [y/N] turn to Fred again, who was looking at the stairs.

“Hi, little love birds,” giggled a very drunk Angelina.

Fred and [y/N] were instantly red, from head to toes, but Angelina and the rest of the group didn’t even care, they just couldn’t giggling and bumping into each other.

“Hey, George, I think I’ll better sleep in your room,” Angelina spoke again. “I believe you’ll have an empty bed.”

“Good idea,” George said, locking arms with Angelina to protect her from falling — she could do it at any moment now. “Good-night, love birds. Or should I say love puffs?”

The four teenagers were laughing out loud, they could wake someone up if only someone were sleeping. George and Angie closed their door as soon as they walked in and winking at [y/N] and Fred, Alicia closed the door of hers and Katie’s room.

“Well, I guess I just lost my bed, puffie” Fred sighed, pretending to be upset, leaning on the door frame.

His eyes sparkled in the dim light of her room. [y/N] smirked, pulling him by his collar, suddenly very aware of her Femme Fatale powers.

“Good thing I have an extra one here,” she said, kissing him again, and again, and again...

[bookishofalder]

Just Breathe

Pairing: Adam Driver X Reader (GN!Reader)

A/N-In this fic, AD is single. Inspired by my own love for makeup and the alternate life I’d have enjoyed as a film makeup artist. I also think this ended up with the reader being gender neutral!

Warnings: Mutual pinning. Kissing. Caffeine addiction.

——————

You took a long, deep breath, focusing on clearing your mind and settling yourself into professional mode. This was a routine, which used to simply be automatic for you, until you started working this new movie trilogy and your world flipped.

Just breathe.

You had been ecstatic when you got the call-key makeup artist for the new Star Wars movies! It was an absolute dream come true, after years working hard as a makeup artist for smaller films and television shows, building your experience. Now you were the lead, which meant you were going to be working with main character actors, a chance to really prove yourself, under the direction of the production designer. You would get to design concepts for their appearances and execute the approved designs.

And not to mention, you were a huge Star Wars geek, having grown up watching the films with your dad, who was an original geek. You would watch them every year on his birthday together, a tradition that you carried out regardless of where in the world you were working from on set, you would stay up all night and video call him while watching, if you had to. You never missed a single year.

But now, it was years later and you were working on set of the final instalment, which was bittersweet in so many ways. You just needed to breath.

Because since day one of production on these movies, you’ve been in love with the lead actor, and it’s been chipping away at your soul. Because it’s one thing to imagine being with someone unattainable for fun, but when you spend a lot of time in that persons presence and over time realize how perfect they are to you, it can drive you up the wall.

Adam Driver was kind, funny and serious. He and you hit it off really well when you met, he was always keen to hear your thoughts on his characters appearance, and he’d even asked you recently to join him on the next press tour as his stylist and makeup artist. That in itself was an amazing opportunity, one that would continue to launch your career into orbit. You adored working with him, and spent a lot of your down time missing him, his corny jokes and soft looks and overall presence. Because that man took up a lot of space, which seemed to affect you in many ways, all good.

You felt like that character in Love Actually, played by Laura Linney, who was in love with Carl. Except, you were sure you hid it well, and you were always the most professional colleague. However, pining over a celebrity felt too ridiculous, too common, and you were hard on yourself constantly for it. You convinced yourself every morning that it was simply a crush, one that would fade if you kept yourself focused and reminded yourself daily of the type of person he could date, if he wanted to.

Yet, here you were, needing to breath, because he was on his way to the makeup trailer for end of day cleanup and you needed to get your head in the game, figuratively shoving your feelings down. Daisy had finished and left already, while your makeup assistant Bailey was hurrying about tidying the trailer, avoiding your station, and moving some of the equipment into the storage area. Soft classical music was playing on the Bluetooth speakers, and the smell of peppermint tea you had brewed was calming you somewhat.

Glancing in the mirror, you adjusted your hair, smoothed down your apron and internally chastised yourself for bothering to check. Setting down your tea, you looked over your set up, ensuring you had everything needed, though end of day was always the easier part on this set for you. You didn’t exactly envy the hard work that the SFX make up team had on both sides of the day, but you were always beyond impressed with their beautiful work.

The door to the trailer opened and immediately, you felt his presence. Adam stepped inside, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair and face still fully set to Kylo Ren’s appearance, which always made you smile, as the contrast was hilarious.

“Evening, y/n, Bailey.” He said, nodding to you both before sitting down heavily into his chair. He smiled at you warmly, looking tired. You quickly set a headband on his head, pushing all the hair from his face carefully.

“How are you, Adam?” You briefly met his soft eyes, which were fixed on your own. If you didn’t spend so much timing beating yourself up for liking him, you might have noticed his eyes often following you, or his soft smiles, or the way he sometimes stiffened when your hands ran through his hair or down his face as you worked on him.

But you never did seem to notice. “I’m good, tired today, this week’s caught up with me.” He rumbled. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart rate pick up every time he spoke. Although, it had been like this for years and he hadn’t complained yet. Or he’d grown used to it. ‘Shut up, brain’, you thought.

“I’m not surprised, after the fiftieth take of this scene I got tired watching you!” It was true too, having to be on set at all times during filming meant a lot of time spent watching the actors at work, and since Adam insisted on doing his own stunts, a lot of the scenes he was in were physically gruelling. You didn’t know how he did it, and despite his words you knew if he was called back to set for any retakes, he’d spring from the chair full of energy and ready to work.

His dedication was an astounding trait that impressed you from the start, never wavering. His serious, hardworking personality only had you falling harder.

He chuckled at your words, his eyes closing automatically as you spritzed his face with a gentle solution you liked for removing the prosthetic scar. He kept them closed as you worked, peeling off the wound with delicate fingers. You didn’t know that he kept them closed because when you were really focused on something, you bit your lip in a way that made his blood warm, in a way that gave him trouble with tearing his gaze away.

“I saw Bailey sneak you a latte, though, which I’m pretty sure means I’ve won our bet.” Your hands stilled at his words, and he peaked up at you, a devilish grin quickly spreading across his face freckled, handsome face.

You faked offence, scoffing “I don’t know what you mean, it was decaf.” Adam gave a bark of a laugh at your lie, shaking his head.

“Just admit it, you’re a caffeine addict.” He’d been teasing you for years for constantly having caffeinated beverages within reach, and you’d recently, stupidly, agreed to a bet where you would stick to one a day for a month. If you won, he had to forever leave you alone about it, and if he won he could continue to tease you for infinity.

“I believe the terms of our bet allowed for one slip up, actually.” You pouted, jutting your chin out slightly. You continued working, getting his skin cleaned and recovered from the makeup, pretending to be unbothered by the fact that he had noticed Bailey sneak you the latte on set. And you tried not to overthink why he would have been looking at you in the first place.

Adam considered your words for a moment, “Yes,” he said slowly, “But today is only day two of this bet, and you’ve already slipped up.” You were smiling now, the joy evident in his tone was contagious. Still, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m only human, you know, but I am competitive.” You hoped you sounded convincing. You weren’t sure you cared about winning the bet, really.

He continued to grin at you, but made no response. You settled into a comfortable silence together as you made your way through the end of day skin care routine you developed for Adam during the first movie. You had one for each of the main actors, and they’d all impressed you with their dedication in following them. You weren’t good at giving yourself credit, though. Everyone knew a skin care routine curated by you was priceless.

“You need me to stick around, y/n?” Bailey asked, popping out from the back of the trailer where the storage area was. She gave you a pointed look, which you promptly ignored.

“No, go on ahead and start your weekend, Bailey, I’m almost done here, thank you.”

“Night, Bailey!” Adam waved. Bailey bid them both goodnight and left, leaving you alone with Adam. You cursed yourself, feeling foolish. You meant to be genuinely nice to Bailey, who worked hard and deserved the break, but usually you kept her around at times like this to ensure you weren’t left alone with the object of your daydreams. When no one else was around, you had no witnesses to any comments that Adam made that you might consider flirtatious. And while you assumed handsome celebrities like him would probably inherently flirt with others as second nature, you never understood why he would flirt with you. It confused you entirely.

You felt your nerves suddenly rear up, and your hands shook very slightly as you removed the calming sheet mask you had placed on Adam. His eyes followed your hands, but he said nothing. You’d been alone plenty of times before, but every time you would turn into a nervous, silly mess, overanalyzing every comment he made and every word you managed to sputter.

You didn’t know it, but Adam always wished for more time alone with you. He knew you well, and could recognize your nerves and always wondered why being alone with him made you nervous. He hoped it was because you liked him, but he was helpless at flirting, and didn’t know how let you know how he felt. He didn’t want to overstep, or make you uncomfortable. You were both technically working, and he felt you probably had much more appealing options for partners outside of work.

Tonight, though, for the first time, you were both exhausted, under caffeinated and, though neither of you would openly admit it, lonely. Years of longing the other, feeling hopeful, was going to catch up to you both tonight.

“Okay, head froward for me please,” He complied, and you expertly ran your hands into his hair, pulling smoothing serum through the thick locks with gentle care. As you focused, applying liberal amounts, you noticed Adam’s hands clench the chairs arms. “Is that okay?” You worried you’d hurt him.

He tilted his head back and met your eyes. He was so tall that even sitting in his makeup chair, his eyes were level with yours. It was nice not needing to adjust his seat, as you needed to do constantly for most of the actors, but it also meant a lot of time face to face, learning to read one another. Your hands were still in his hair. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice of reason was telling you to calmly remove your hands and step back. But the look he was giving you had you frozen to the spot. You’d never read that expression on his face before, his eyes were dark, serious.

His eyes searched yours for a moment longer, “Yeah, y/n.” His voice came out quiet, soft. You think maybe your heart would stop working, because he wasn’t looking away. You couldn’t understand his expression, he seemed to be searching for something in your own.

Finally, you managed to pull your gaze away. Quickly removing your hands, you stepped back, smoothing down your apron nervously, “I-I mean, you’re all set, Adam, unless you need anything else from me?” Why was your voice so quiet? And your face, it felt hot.

You needed to get out of this trailer, away from this man-he was having such a strong affect on you. You rationalized that it was simply because you were tired, you really had cut down significantly on caffeine and this was the result, your sleepiness was lowering your defences and he was noticing you were acting strange. That was all it was.

Adam stood, frowning slightly, but didn’t move away from you. Now, he was right in front of you and you had to tilt your head back just to see beyond his chest. You glanced up at him, and his eyes seemed to soften.

“You’ve really been cutting back on coffee, haven’t you?”

You nodded, “Told you, I’m competitive.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d been running. What the hell was wrong with you, you wondered.

Adam smiled, “I know, I love that about you.” You thought maybe you were now hearing things, and simply stared up at him in surprise, his words genuine, warm.

“Thank-um, thank you, Adam, that means a lot, coming from you.” Now, you were basically whispering. Yet your voice sounded much too loud.

He tilted his head, took a careful step closer, the gap between you nearly gone now. His overall hugeness as he stood over you made you feel safe, and a jolt ran through to your core. “I love a lot of things about you, y/n. Like, how you’re face gives what you’re thinking away, if the person knows you well enough, and you know that about yourself so you try to hide it. You look away, before someone reads you-but I’ve gotten pretty good at catching your expressions,” The low timbre of his voice was doing things to you, and you couldn’t look away from Adam now, “And right now, I think I do know what you’re thinking. Can I test my theory?”

He was asking permission, for what you didn’t know, but at this point you’d have given it no matter what. So you nodded, “S-sure.” You saw the look in his eyes shift, his gaze moving to your lips.

Despite noticing this, it still caught you entirely off guard when Adam leaned down, his hands moving to your face, gently, and caught your lips with his own. So off guard, that you immediately moaned in surprise. You felt Adam freeze, and wondered if you’d messed up, but before you could open your eyes to check, he pressed you against the wall behind you and resumed kissing you with renewed fervour. You felt yourself returning the kiss, mirroring his movements, entirely caught up in him. His tongue ran across your lips and you parted them, allowing him to taste you as he deepened the kiss.

And you tasted him, his breath minty and overwhelmingly him, you felt drunk, dizzy. You moaned again, and he pulled away, still holding your face, “Sweetheart, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He breathed, his pupils blown, face flushed. His gaze was intensely affectionate.

You had to catch your breath, “I didn’t think...I’m just a makeup artist, Adam, I-��

But he cut you off, shaking his head, “Don’t do that, how do you not realize how amazing you are, y/n? You take my breath away every time I see you, and it’s not just because you’re beautiful,” He punctuated his words with a peppering of kiss along your cheeks, “It’s how funny you are, how hardworking, your talent and vision, the way you take care of me and the others, how kind and sweet and goofy you are-I’ve been in love with you for a long time, for a million different reasons.”

Tears threatened at his words, and you had to work to blink them back, “I think I’m dreaming.” You breathed, feeling silly, but he grinned, and shook his head. You returned the smile, gazing up at Adam in wonder, before reaching up with both hands to caress his face, the gesture so much more intimate than it had been when you worked on his skin. His eyes closed briefly, but opened again when you spoke, “I love you too, you know, always have.”

In an instant, his lips were on yours again, this time the intensity was burning, smouldering. Entirely too much and yet no where near enough. You pushed your hands into his hair and he groaned against you, his hands gripping your face and it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. He dropped one hand to your waist, pulling your body flush to his, then slid his other into your hair. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, fully ablaze in each others arms, but you never wanted it to stop.

When you did break apart, breathless and flushed, Adam was the first to speak, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, “Would you like to come over to my hotel?”

You nodded, still standing close against him, “I’d really love that.” And you leaned up, on your tip toes, to plant a chaste kiss on his nose, unable to stop smiling.

Adam hugged you close again, planting a few affectionate kisses to your cheeks and hair, before stepping back, watching you as you gathered your things quickly. He took your bag from you as you pulled off your apron and threw on your coat, and you followed him out, feeling giddy.

“We might have to end our bet, by the way.” Adam held open the passenger door for you, when you reached his car, and watched your confusion at his words.

“Why’s that?”

He leaned down, his eyes dark in a way that had you mesmerized, “You’re going to need a lot of caffeine when I’m done with you, sweetheart.” He murmured softly, his voice laced with cheek, and yet you shivered.

You met his gaze, grinning, while internally you had to remind yourself to breath.

Just breath.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Solace

note: this is for @cnnownsme who requested a soft, comforting Chris fic, I hope you like it! xx

words: 1.9k

warnings: mild swearing, angst, bit of smut (nothing too graphic though)

enjoy :)

You were startled awake by the sound of breaking glass. Groaning softly, you looked around, unsure what exactly had happened. It was dark, only the glow of your computer screen was illuminating the kitchen. It seemed like you fell asleep sitting on the dining table and accidentally knocked over your glass of water, which now laid shattered on the ground.

"Shit!” you swore under your breath and carefully got up to turn on the light, trying to avoid the shatters of glass littered around on the floor.

You were in the midst of cleaning up the mess you made when you heard soft footsteps coming closer.

“Baby, it’s the middle of the night, what happened?” The sleepy voice of your boyfriend asked. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, dressed in only pajama bottoms, his curly hair tousled from sleep. His eyes squinted against the light, and he looked so cute that you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and follow him to bed. But you couldn’t.

“I was still up working on that article, fell asleep and knocked over my water glass. Go back to bed, Chris, everything is alright.” You replied, tiredness and frustration evident in your voice. You didn’t want to argue now, you knew you weren’t getting enough sleep, but the work had to be done either way.

“Y/N, please come to bed with me, I promise you’ll be much more productive after a good night’s sleep.” Chris tried to convince you, reaching out to put his huge arms around your smaller frame and pull you against his chest. You resisted the temptation to just snuggle up to his warm, comforting body, wriggling yourself free from his embrace instead.

“Chris, I told you, the deadline is next week and if I don’t have a first draft ready by tomorrow my boss is going to have my ass.” You snapped, starting to grow annoyed, the lack of sleep and stress were taking a toll on your mood. “Go back to bed, please.”

Chris looked taken aback, but he yielded, pressing a kiss to your forehead and murmuring a quick good night before disappearing into the direction of your bedroom again.

You felt a flash of guilt, you knew he only wanted what was best for you, but you were in a position at work that didn’t allow for any mistakes. You were one of the youngest members of the team, and your strong opinions that you weren’t afraid to voice made you a thorn in the side of your boss. You had a target on your back, and you were not about to give them any reason to fire you.

Uttering a deep sight, you made yourself some coffee and continued working.

+++

A week later, things had spiraled out of control for you. Your boss was giving you so much heat, criticizing you and your work whenever he could. You were running on only a couple of hours of sleep during the last days, your appetite was almost gone, replaced by a constant queasiness in your stomach.

Between your job and Chris’ show, you haven’t been able to spend any quality time together, and on the rare occasion that you saw each other, you were tired and easily angered. Chris went out of his way to shield you from stress and tried talking to you multiple times.

He told you that he was worried, that you looked unwell and that you should consider taking some days off. But you had your walls up, dismissing him. He couldn’t understand the position you were in, he was well established as a journalist while you were still at the very base of the food chain. You had to put everything you had into this job, or you would never reach the top.

Still, you could see how your behavior hurt Chris and felt incredibly guilty about it. He was your rock, the most important person in your life, and you wanted nothing more than just crawl into bed with him for a week, or fly to a desert island, just the two of you. But talking about your emotions and fears had never been your strong suit, so you were just eating everything up. But you could feel breaking point approaching, and as usual, it hit you when you least expected it.

It was Friday evening; you had handed in your finished article a couple of hours before and were now preparing for what was hopefully going to be a more relaxed weekend. You currently were in the kitchen, trying to make dinner. Chris was still at work, but you wanted to surprise him and spend an actual evening with him, to make up for everything you put him through the last week.

Suddenly, your phone was ringing, your boss’s number showing up on the screen. You thought about just ignoring it, it was a Friday night after all, but maybe something important came up.

You instantly regretted taking the call. Your boss was basically tearing the article you gave him apart, disagreeing with so many of your arguments. He was calling you a failure and threatening to fire you if there wasn’t a completely revised version on his desk by Monday.

You managed to hold the tears at bay while you were still on the phone, but right after you hung up, you collapsed. Your body just slumped against the wall of the living room, sliding down until your head was between your knees.

The tears were flowing steadily, sobs wrecking your body while all the anger, stress, fear and pressure of the past weeks came crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You curled up against the wall and just cried, the world around you going blurry. You had lost track of time when you sensed rapid footsteps coming towards you. Chris was home.

“Babe, what is wrong?” his concerned voice barely came through to you, and you were crying to much to give an answer. Suddenly, you were picked up by a pair of strong arms and as soon as you felt the comforting presence of Chris’ warm body, the floodgates really opened.

He laid you down onto the sofa, covered you with a soft blanket and just held you while you let out all the repressed feelings that have been eating you up. His large hand was softly stroking little circles across your back while you cried your eyes out until there were wet patches all over his shirt.

When you finally calmed down and looked up at him, his eyes were full of worry.

“Talk to me, Y/N, please. I don’t know what is happening, and I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. I’m not able to just sit back and watch you fall apart in front of me.” His voice was stained with emotion, and it was breaking your heart to see him so affected by the situation. He was the more empathic part of your relationship and had a keen intuition for other people’s feelings, and you had given him such a hard time, constantly pushing him away. But you knew that now was the time to fess up, you couldn’t continue like this anymore.

So you talked, about the amount of stress you have been under, about how you snuck out of bed when he was asleep to go back to work so you wouldn’t worry him, how your boss was almost bullying you recently, giving you immense word loads, impossible death lines and throwing insults at you at every chance he got. You told Chris that you could barely stomach any kind of food anymore, and that the sole thought of going back to work on Monday almost made you vomit.

When you finished, Chris was speechless. Then he reached out and just gave you the biggest, tightest hug, peppering little kisses to your hairline and stroking your back. You allowed yourself to relax for what maybe was the first time in weeks, sinking into Chris embrace. You just felt safe in his arms, like nothing bad could ever reach you as long as he was holding you.

When you looked up to him, his eyes were so warm, open and full of love that you could feel yourself tearing up again.

“You.” Chris said, putting your face between his hands and bringing it close to his. “are the most brilliant, kind, dedicated and resourceful woman I’ve ever met. You are intelligent, gentle, caring and so committed to everything you do. And the fact that those people at your work managed to take away your joy makes me so incredibly mad. But this is not about me, this is about you. You have to get your perspective back, and your love for what you. I don’t know why you kept all this from me, but I don’t care, I just want to see you smile again.”

You were crying again now, but this time it was from being totally emotionally overwhelmed. You loved this man so much, and all that stress paired with your own stubbornness had clouded your judgement and prevented you from seeing that the help and support you desperately needed had been right in front of you the whole time.

“I love you so much, baby.” You sobbed, “and I’m so terribly sorry for the way I treated you. I just wasn’t able to see the horizon anymore, I feel like I am drowning, and I don’t know what to do.”

“You need to get out of there, Y/N. I know you poured your soul into this job, but it’s breaking you down and I won’t let that happen. I am going to help you with finding a better place to work. I won’t stand by while you lose your passion and your enthusiasm. I love you too much for that.” His voice was calm, but heavy with emotion. He was being serious, and deep in your heart, you knew he was right.

You just nodded, to worn down to utter another word.

He pressed a tender kiss to your mouth, and the warmth that spread to your body when you felt his lips on yours was like a bright burst of light after walking around in darkness for days.

“We are going to make a plan and talk everything through tomorrow, baby. For now, let me take care of you.” Chris said, stroking your hair and planting small kisses along the side of your face, down your jaw and neck.

His hands were stroking your sides softly and you sighed, leaning back into the sofa cushions, just enjoying the warm feeling of Chris’ love and attention.

His hands and lips were slowly making their way all over your body and you were getting softer and more pliant with every inch of skin he was exposing to his ministrations. When his feather light kisses finally found their way between your legs, you let out a breathy moan, burying your hands in his curly hair. His tongue and fingers teased and caressed you until you came apart under him, his name falling from your mouth over and over like a prayer.

Afterwards, he held you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings against your skin, how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, that he would never leave you alone. You soaked up everything, feeling a bit less broken and hurt with every word. You fell asleep in his embrace, at peace and knowing you could take on anything in the world as long as you had Chris by your side.

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 10 - Confessions

Summary: You start ignoring George, not knowing what to do. After he fails getting a straight answer from you, he decides to pour his heart out and he finally tells you how he feels

(I read the potion idea in a fic a long time ago, it gave me inspiration to this chapter and the whole series :) )

Warnings: Angst, few swearwords, Fluff, Fluff, Fluff

Word Count: 2.9K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

You woke up feeling miserable. After you opened your eyes you didn’t get up immediately; you just lay there, thinking through yesterday in every single detail. You decided to skip breakfast and George had detention today so if you’re smart enough you can avoid him all day. Get food from the kitchen, spend the day in the Room of Requiremnet. That’s it.

You felt guilty for planning on how to avoid George but you had no other choice. You had to think things through. You thought of yesterday’s Hogsmeade trip as a test and you felt like you’d got your answer. You had believed — or at least had hoped — that if something happened, it would be in Hogsmeade. You had spent a whole day together for God’s sake!

But nothing happened. You were talking, you had fun, drank a few butterbeers but nothing more. You were too scared to do anything — but you’d hoped he would do something. Kiss you. Or just hold your hand. Anything. Yeah, you were messing around the snow but that was just a game. A stupid game. A small voice of hope in your head said, ‘But he was calling you all those names. Darling. Love. What was that?’

A horrible thought started forming in your mind. What if — what if he was just teasing you? He didn’t mean it, of course he didn’t mean it. Why would he? He probably has pet names for all the people he talks to. He was just making fun of you. Would that be it? Was he just playing around, not caring about how much it hurts you? How much his wordplays hurt you? Was this just a joke to him?

Well, it didn’t really matter at this point. He hadn’t confessed anything to you. Fred  had misinterpreted a lot of things, apparently. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anymore. George had made his choice — did he even have to make one? You felt horrible, thinking about how you were longing for him and he might had never thought of you as more than a friend.

You were on the verge of crying, but you stood your ground against your tears. Instead, you took some deep breaths. You musn’t let things go out of control. You still have your exams. You have to focus on those. You do your best. You will study in every free minute you have, write your exams perfectly, and over the summer you forget about the ginger boy.

Over the summer. The sentence made your heart ache. You closed your eyes. Every spring was like a torture to you. As the weather started getting better and better, the inevitable summer ‘vacation’ was looming over you. After this year it was more horrible than ever. You didn’t want to go home — but you felt like you were also unable to stay here with George.

There was no other way — you had to distance yourself. Right now. It’s gonna be horrible. But in order to get over him, this was the only solution you had.

You spent the day in the Room as you planned — and then the day after, and the day after, and so on. First, George didn’t seem to notice; you were always pretending to be in a hurry, only talking a few words with him at every meal, running to your next class. But as the second week of April had ended, he seemed to be a bit more persuasive.

“Come on, Y/N” he said one day at lunch. “I barely see you. Do you wanna go to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, eating as fast as possible. “I am lagging behind. I need to study.”

“Then go up to the astronomy tower again? Just for an hour?”

“Sorry,” you said, this time more quietly. You locked eyes with Fred who had a very disapproving look on his face.

“You’re avoiding him!” he said one day when he caught you after Charms. “He’s a mess! Driving me crazy, seeing him like that! He thinks he messed up something.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I have a thousand things to attend to. I have my own life, Fred.”

“At least talk to him, tell him something. Don’t you see he feels horrible?”

Of course you could see it. George seemed hurt. You were hurt, too. Every time you rejected his invitations to somewhere, you saw him break a little. He looked just like how you felt.

And then one day, he had enough. You were studying under a tree by the lake when a shadow appeared on the grass next to you. You looked up and your stomach shrinked into a small ball at the sight of him.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I sit?”

Should you just run away? You put down your books and said a quiet ‘sure’.

He sat down next to you, watching your face. You couldn’t look him in the eye.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. “Bit tired. Studying a lot.”

“Mm,” he said, nodding. Then suddenly you heard the saddest, most miserable voice. “Why do you hate me?”

You jerked your head towards him. You were stunned.

“I don’t hate you.”

He had the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Then what is it? Because you haven’t talked to me in three weeks.”

“George…I… I can’t.”

He nodded.

“It’s killing me.”

You pressed your lips together tight before answering.

“You’re using such big words.”

“That’s how I feel.”

When you didn’t answer, he continued.

“Please tell me if I did something.”

You kept quiet.

“Did I hurt you?”

Nothing.

“Did I make you feel bad somehow?”

Quiet.

“Y/N. Please. I miss you.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you blurted out. It was true, though, he didn’t do anything. But in terms of how he meant it, you had to keep him in the dark. Otherwise you’d have to tell him everything. “You didn’t do anything, okay? I have a lot on my mind lately. I have all these exams, and when I’m done with them I can pack my stuff and go back to my parents for another wonderful two months.”

“I told you, you can come to us any time.”

“That’s not the point, George.”

“I know,” he said. “The point is that you don’t see that we’re here for you. I am here for you. And you’re ignoring me, because somehow you decided that you don’t need friends anymore? How’s that? At least you could tell me why.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“No, we can’t.”

He was right, though. It was not nice what you were doing to him. You sighed. At least you can make him suffer less.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You’re right. I am ignoring you. I was. But it’s not your fault. It’s — it’s something I have to deal with by myself. I just — I cannot tell you what it is. Not now. Maybe later. One day I will tell you, I promise.

“Can I help you with it without knowing what it is?”

“No.”

“Does Fred know?”

You dodged the question.

“Ginny does.”

He nodded.

“Are you sure I haven’t done anything to you?”

Well, technically…

“Yes. You haven’t done anything.”

——

If the talk with George made you change anything about your new routine, it was that you were willing to spend more time in the common room now while studying. Even though you didn’t have another conversation since the lake, he seemed a bit more relaxed seeing you around. It’s been seven days since that day; you weren’t ignoring him anymore, but you still hadn’t made any progress on processing his absence that was about to come in the near future of your life.

You were just about to finish a Transfiguration essay and start a Divination one when you heard the unmistakable voices coming from the Fat Lady. You looked up and a second later the twins arrived. Fred sat down onto the table opposite you, holding a box in his hands, while George took the spot next to you on the couch.

“Do you have a minute?” George asked.

“For what?”

“It’s a new product,” said Fred with mischievous eyes. “We just tested it, but we need to make sure it’s working.”

“I don’t really have time for anything right now —,” you started, but Fred interrupted.

“It’ll only take a minute. Promise.”

You hesitated. George spoke very softly.

“Please.”

You sighed.

“Fine. But make it quick. I’m not joking.”

“Brilliant,” said Fred and opened the box. He took out a small vial with a wooden cork in it and gave it to you. “Here you go.”

You took it, not sure what you’re suppose to do.

“…Yes? What do you want me to do with this? Drink it?”

“No!” said George, panicking. “Open it. And smell it.”

“Why?” you asked, more suspicious by the second.

“We already tested it ourselves but we need a female’s opinion.”

Fred shrugged like it was no big deal, but you felt that something was up with the two. You looked at the pinkish liquid in the vial. As long as you don’t have to drink anything…

You opened the bottle and held it closer. The twins leaned closer eagerly. You snapped at them.

“What? What is it?”

“Just smell it, Y/N!” said Fred impatiently. “We don’t have all day!”

You shot a sharp look at him then smelled the liquid. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It’s so familiar. What is this?”

“What would you say it is?” asked George.

You shook your head and smelled the pink stuff again. You just… you just couldn’t wrap your head around it. Was it like… Was it something like fire? But it somehow also reminded you of water. And… you also felt something else… like perfume… or… or…

Or cologne.

You almost dropped the vial as you held it far away from your nose.

“What?” said Fred with great anticipation. Then grinned. “Was it stinky?”

George shot an angry look at him but you didn’t see it. You were staring at the liquid. The pink liquid.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh, fucking hell.

“So?” asked George eagerly. “What do you feel?”

“No — nothing,” you lied. Very badly, actually.

“Don’t lie!” scolded you Fred. “What is it? What does it smell like?”

Oh, no. What should you say? What should you say?!

“I… I can’t,” you said. “I can’t do this.”

“What?” George looked taken aback. “What is it?”

“I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”

You stood up without looking at them. You kept your head down as you hurried to the portrait, leaving the common room.

—— George was staring at the part of the couch you were just sitting. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t believe it. This cannot be happening.

“George?” asked Fred in a careful tone. “You’re okay?”

George didn’t answer, didn’t blink, even. He was just staring.

“George?”

Would it have been so hard? Giving an honest answer, putting him out of his misery?

“George, we can talk to her again when she comes back.”

He had enough. He had enough.

“Georgie…?”

George stood up, suddenly. He made up his mind. This was it. Months have passed. It was enough.

“I’m ending this bullshit, right now.”

And he ran.

——

You were leaving behind the corridors like an animal running for its life. You didn’t know what to do. This came out of the blue. Of course the twins did it again. And Fred! Fred knew! Was this just an evil game to them? And what should you say when they — oh, they certainly will — ask you again?

You needed air. You needed to be alone. You needed to get to someplace where you could think.

You headed towards the astronomy tower and ran up the stairs as fast as you could. You were out of breath by the time you reached the top. You opened the door and stepped outside and…

“George!” you yelled, looking at the panting boy standing in front of you. “How — ”

“Hello, love,” he said, a hand on his side. “Give me a minute, I just ran through the whole bloody castle.”

You were stunned. You couldn’t move. What the hell was going on?

“George, I really…” you paused before continuing. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did you smell me?” he said, standing up. He hesitated. “Or — or did you smell Fred?”

“Wh — what?!” you felt more outraged than emberrassed. “No, I didn’t smell Fred, what the hell?!

“Oh,” he said, breathing normally again. “Good. Was it me then?”

Oh, God. Oh, God, no. It’s over. He’s gonna find out. He already knows! Shit. Oh, shit!

“I… I am —”

“Cause I smelled you.”

First you didn’t even understand what he just said. Then your jaw dropped in confusion.

“Wh… what are you talking about?” your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He stepped closer, not taking his eyes off you for a second.

“I smelled the potion. We’ve been brewing it for a long time now. I know it works cause when I smelled it… it was like butterbeer. And vanilla, which I assume is your shampoo. Also that gummy candy you’re always eating. So… yeah. I wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N. I can’t take it anymore.”

You looked him in the eye, still unable to speak. Was he telling the truth? Was he playing with you? You had to make sure. Because if it was real…

“Are you…” a relieved smile appeared on your lips. “Are you serious?”

George casted down his eyes. He took both your hands and gently squeezed your fingers.

“Please, don’t laugh at me.”

You shook your head.

“No, I mean… this isn’t a joke, right? You’re telling the truth?”

“Why would I joke with this?”

“Just tell me.”

A sad smile appeared on his face. He started nervously rubbing your fingers. And he finally looked at you.

“I’m serious.”

You laughed.

“Alright, then.”

You let go of his hand but only to cup his cheeks. You pulled him down and pressed your lips on his. He let out a surprised moan. He froze for a second. Then he reached for you to welcome you in his arms, closed his eyes and completely melted into the kiss.

It was like all your troubles had faded away in a second. You kissed George with everything you were holding back for the last couple of months. Your heart was beating incredibly fast. He tasted so sweet. His lips were hot. He was holding you so close. You smelled his cologne again and you felt like you’re going mad. You wanted more of him, you needed him, and you couldn’t think of anything but his lips on yours and his hair between your fingers.

When you two pulled away, gasping for air, he rested his forehead on yours. He was panting and you were too. You couldn’t help but smile. You were gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, finally looking at him. He looked at you, dazed.

“Hi,” you said.

His eyes looked like melted chocolate. A smile was hiding in the corner of his lips. He softly brushed his nose against yours.

“Hi.”

You leaned towards him again, this time giving him a small peck on the lips. He was holding you strongly in his arms, making you feel goosebumps on your back. Your heart was really beating, maybe for the first time in your life. You heard your blood running wild in your ears.

“You know…” you said, whispering. He looked deeply in your eyes, drinking your words, “I want you to know I smelled you, too. I… I smelled fireworks and rain… and your cologne which also reminded me of the forest. I’m… I’m so mad for you. I have been for months.”

“What?” he said, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was so scared,” you gently tucked a lock of his long hair behind his ears. “I didn’t wanna loose you.”

“Witty, you wouldn’t have lost me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I wanted to. Really. I was just an idiot. As Fred told me so.”

“Wait — Fred knew?”

“Yeah. He figured it out in a second.”

“He wasn’t lying then?”

“Lying?” he looked at you, confused. “Did he tell you?”

“He knew I liked you. He told me I should talk to you because it might end well.”

You looked at each other in disbelief. If you had just talked to each other months before…

“Well, I guess we have to make up for the time we lost,” he said, leaning closer again.

“You think so?” you asked teasingly.

“Mm,” he said and kissed you again, this time tenderly, like you were a flower that’s about to break. You smiled into the kiss and when he realized, he did too.

After his lips let go of yours, he leaned down and burried his face into your neck. He kissed you gently while still holding you close.

“George…” you said, whispering. You were stroking his hair. You had never felt more alive. He kissed your neck again, making you shiver.

“Do you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me — ?

“Yes…”

“— as my girlfriend?”

“…Yes.”

His mischievous smile returned. All that concern and hurt had disappeared from his face. His eyes were shining under the night sky. He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose and said,

“Alright, then.”