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saetoru · 1 year ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#rich boy! au #fics.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

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Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Jean Seberg (Breathless, Saint Joan)— Some of us watched À bout de souffle as a lil French undergrad and had the trajectory of our lives changed by Jean Seberg. She IS French new wave!! She is the moment!! She sadly had to work with a lot of shitty directors in her career but even so, she has this magnetic energy whenever she’s on screen. In her personal life, she was also very supportive of civil rights causes, and was even targeted/harassed by the FBI for financially supporting the Black Panther Party.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Jean Seberg:

anyone who plays Joan of Arc is kind of hot by default tbh

she's gorgeous, she's cool, she has the original blond pixie cut

She donated a lot of her money to civil rights organizations such as the NAACP and the black panther party as well as Native American school groups, as a result of this the fbi ran a smear campaign against her and a surveillance campaign which is thought to have led to her suicide tragically.

idk if this is propaganda but the COINTELPRO and the FBI are widely blamed for her death. If the FBI was after her for supporting the Black Panther Party you know she was good

#jean seberg #ava gardner #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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sscieloz · 1 year ago

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You overhear Karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

Over her

Yoo Jimin x reader

Warnings: a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals (? idk how to word it better than this).

Word count: 5.4k

Notes: I’m alive!!! sorry for taking forever to answer 😔. I think your message got cut off? so I got a little creative, I hope you don’t mind :). If you do, I can still cut out a few things n stuff. anyways, merry early christmas ig ^^ ps: I also didn’t know if this was supposed to be smut, so I only wrote a little and in the end.

You’ve always been utterly, embarrassingly, completely enamored with your girlfriend. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you for even a single second; you would always be caught staring at Karina with loving eyes, often going out of your way to simply please and spoil her rotten, showering her with kisses and gifts. For you, it was physically impossible to be without her for too long. Her absence made your heart ache, almost as if there were something missing from you. It was difficult to go on with your routine if you didn’t have her by your side. You missed your late night talks, walks at the park, parking lot dates, eating too much junk food together… You missed her, truthfully. All of her.

Naturally, you understood her duties as an idol: being away for shows, events, and photoshoots were part of her life just as much as you were. However, you knew Karina’s time was precious and scarce— which was why, whenever she was back in Seoul, you tried to spend as much quality time together as possible.

Even now, as the group’s busy with their latest Mini Album’s promotions, you couldn’t help but to feel glistening with happiness to have the four girls back in Korea, regardless of them still being so occupied with fansigns, program attendances and rehearsals for their upcoming stages and festival performances. Having them in town gives you the opportunity to join them backstage, which you absolute love; whether it’s the artistic atmosphere, or being able to understand how this industry truly works, with all the engines running frantically in the girls’ background to ensure everything goes as planned… And, of course, getting to watch Karina perform and be the astonishing, all-rounder, talented version of herself was the best part of it all. Anytime you look at her through the big screens, you realize how lucky you truly are— to be able to see all sides of her. To witness how sweet, shy and caring she could also be, once the cameras were not around.

You loved her so much.

“Congratulations, girls! You absolutely nailed it!” You praise the four girls as soon as they leave the stage, breathless from performing at a University Festival. They all smile back, trying to recompose themselves as best as they can, the adrenaline from being on stage slowly running out. You wait for them to calm down, too, before reaching out to give your girlfriend a big hug, in hopes to express yourself through your touches. You mean to tell her how wonderful she had done, but she ends the hug quickly, although her smile still lingers.

“I’m all sweaty, Y/n.” She explains, which you nod and take a step back to give her space. The two of you walk side by side, towards the big dressing room. “I don’t want you to get dirty, too.”

You shrug, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling that stood on your heart, with the lack of her touches. You understood, though. Karina’s just taking care of you, like the sweet girlfriend she is. So you follow her, without complaints, even though all you want is to jump from excitement and tell her how perfectly she performed, setting the public on fire. Instead, you force yourself to stay still and calm down, laying with the others on the couch as you watch them change into normal clothes and relax.

The cafe’s atmosphere is cozy and calm, a much-needed contrast for the girls after a whole morning of practicing at the company. The place’s barely occupied— lunch break is nearly over for most of the workers— and the only sounds that can be heard are the wind’s peaceful breeze and the girl’s voices, engaged in a nonchalant gossip.

“I’m so hungry.” Winter complains, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder. You all chuckle at the sight; she’s too cute, even when she’s whiny.

“Me too.” You nod, and reach out for your girlfriend’s arm, tugging it slightly to steal her attention from Ning’s excited storytelling. It takes a few moments, but she finally hums, acknowledging you. “Love, do you think the food will take long? I need to use the restroom, but I’ll wait if it’s coming soon.”

Karina frowns, looking behind you for a few seconds. After examining the balcony, she seems to think otherwise. “It might take quite a while, still. We’ve ordered a lot, and we just got here, too. You’re safe to go.”

You nod as you get up and excuse yourself, leaving the girls to their own conversations. Their reserved table, set in a pretty well-hidden corner of the cafe, is the reason you’re able to observe their faces from afar, once you make your way back from the stalls. None of them notice your arrival, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to your frame.

Giselle, Winter, and Ningning’s faces are uneasy as they listen to Karina’s rambling. Their fingers twitch on the table, and they shake their heads every once in a while, leaving you to wonder what’s gotten them so serious. Trying to understand the matter, you frown behind their backs, approaching the group in slow, unhurried steps.

“… She’s constantly all over me, too. I swear I don’t even have time to breathe without her on my skin, as if she has nothing else to do. It’s so fucking annoying, really. Like, you remember, right? And there was that time when we were all at the park and Y/n was just insufferab—.”

You decide not to eavesdrop on the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping your steps as light as you can, once you turn around and nearly run back to the restroom, ignoring the heavy pitch just forming in your stomach.

You only allow yourself to relax once you reassure your mind that none of them were aware of you listening to Karina’s harsh, hurtful words.

Instead, your hands go to your face, and you try to focus and take deep breaths to prevent the tears from coming. The moment they start, you know it’ll take long to stop. It was one of the things Karina always teased you about: how you’ve always been such a crybaby, drowning yourself in tears for absolutely anything.

Oh, Karina… how could she speak such things about you? You’ve always put on so much effort to be the best, supportive girlfriend you could, with extra care to respect your girlfriend’s boundaries and still express how much you loved her.

It hurt to know she found you annoying and clingy, specially since all you’ve ever meant was to reassure her of your love. Allowing your body to sink into the restroom’s floor, you reach to the ground, hugging your knees in hopes to feel some comfort.

Flashes pass through your mind like rockets, analyzing every single moment you’ve ever spent with Karina. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, your mind doesn’t seem to give you any relief, overthinking about each one of her touches, phrases, and actions towards you. Did she even love you? What was she doing with you, then, if she found your presence to be so suffocating? What have you done wrong?

Was your whole existence the problem? The way you acted, your bubbly personality…

The questions, now clearly etched on your brain, did nothing but deepen the lump in your throat, one that left saliva building up in your mouth, making it impossible to swallow. Even the simplest actions were difficult to be executed, just like it was when you were away from your girlfriend for too long.

Despite all, you couldn’t help but let a light chuckle, forcing yourself to get up and wash your face in the sink. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you stay in the cafe. No, that won’t do— you have to go home. Even if it means facing chaos herself.

And her friends, too. They must’ve been aware of Karina’s feelings towards you all along, yet they still let you smile and be all over like a fucking idiot.

You look up, trying not to ruin your mascara and risk having any of them finding out what you’ve just heard. Without rush, you force yourself to even your breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow movements, focusing on your body’s movements instead of giving in to desperation.

You feel like you’re at the bottom pit, and it fucking sucked.

After minutes of calming yourself down, you dried the remaining tears and got up, sighing as you excited the bathroom. Your hands trailed the walls as you walked without rush, looking for something, anything to provide some strength. Eventually, the walls of the hallway gave way to the open area of the tables, making you gulp. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt too weak, almost as if you were going to pass out at any given moment. Your usual confidence was all gone, and you weren’t at all sure you’d manage to speak to them without stuttering or crying.

“Thank fucking God, Y/n. We thought you got kidnapped or something.” Winter was the first to say, giggling. Giselle and Ningning smiled too, mumbling how you must’ve gotten lost or thrown in a portal to another dimension, perhaps.

Karina nods. “You really took too long out there, Y/n. I almost went looking for you.” Even though her tone is light, your girlfriend’s smile fades once she takes a proper look at your face.

You try your best to smile back at her, hands going unconsciously to your arms, scratching them nervously. You’ve always liked to be the center of their attention; the little moments where they’d ask you for an opinion or actively listen to your rambling… you thrived on them. It felt like they were spoiling you, giving up one of the things they cherished the most to focus on you: their time. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of being observed by them brought you a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of being someone important.

“I actually need to go, now.” You mutter, grabbing your stuff whilst refusing to meet your girlfriend’s piercing gaze.

Karina’s already aware something is wrong, though. She knows your body, your expressions, your mannerisms… she’s more than capable of telling when you’re off, much to your discomfort.

“Is everything ok? What happened?” Her hands grab a hold of your elbow, and you nearly joint, throwing your phone and sweater in your purse as fast as you can, to escape from her fingers on you. Her touch hurts, electrocuting your skin as if she were a storm set on a windy, loud night. You couldn’t stand it.

“It’s just a family emergency, don’t worry.” You take a step back, with your wallet in hands to pay for your drink. Bowing slightly to acknowledge the pain you were bringing onto the conversation, you add. “Please keep up with your lunch. I’ll make sure to update you about it soon.”

Karina’s hands rest on top of yours, taking the card from between your fingers and back to the wallet.

“It’s ok, I’ll pay.” Her voice, calm and soothing, is much different from her previous, livid tone. She gives your hand a squeeze, getting up herself. “Do you want me to go with you? Manager unnie will understand.”

The girls nod, their faces also filled with worry. However, you dismiss your girlfriend, diverting your gaze to the ground as you inhale deeply. You’re unable to face her by any given means; you’d fall apart in front of them if you did as such. In fact, you find yourself unable to face any of them. They’ve made a fool out of you for too long, and that single thought is enough for bile to rest in your throat, threatening to spill. You can’t deal with that, not at the moment.

“I mean it: I’m sure I can handle it.” Your muscles tense, and you don’t even notice your body’s backward steps. It was clear you wanted to leave, which was mostly the reason they didn’t pressure further, watching as you hurriedly made our way out.

Karina’s eyes were the most trained, her mind racing with thoughts that left her wondering what had gotten you so shaken, visibly out of place. Clueless, she stared at your frame until you’ve reached the door. Only then, you returned her stare.

The watery look in your eyes is more than enough to make her shiver, gripping her chest to get rid of the heaviness that had installed in her heart. Everything was fine, Karina told herself. You’d soon deal with your incident, and be back by her side as fast as you could, as always.

With that in mind, she relaxes, turning her attention back to her friends’ conversation.

Karina doesn’t understand why your distance hurts so much. She should’ve been relieved: you’ve stopped spamming her phone with updates of your day, no longer sending thousands of pictures and videos of things that, according to you, reminded you of herself. She doesn’t have to deal with your constant neediness, nor does she have to reassure you that you were loved, and she missed you. It’s all she’s ever wanted— to not be disturbed at all, being able to focus on work and just have a good time, overall.

Instead, she feels awful; as if something’s missing. Everything feels wrong; she’s unable to concentrate at all, her skin itches and her thoughts constantly linger on you, wondering.

“Hey, Jimin unnie.” Ning looks up from the ground, stretching herself out on the floor. “Is Y/n coming soon? She always brings the best snacks.” Resting on the couch, Karina lets out a long sigh, looking at the clock displayed above the dance room’s door.

“She’s not stopping by to watch us today.” The oldest explains, shrugging. She tries as hard as she can not to sound affected by it. “It’s Nutcracker season. She’s rehearsing until late, most likely.”

“Most likely? Haven’t you talked to her today to know that?”

Giselle’s sharp tone hurt, specially since Karina’s phone was currently burning in her pocket, with a lot of unread messages she had sent you. Karina twists her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands on her face, in a tired manner. “No, I haven’t. Like I said, she’s busy. We haven’t talked much since this morning.”

“Wow, this is serious, then.” Giselle’s lips turn into a smirk, as she brushes the sweat out of her face. “Y/n’s never missed a pre-comeback rehearsal of ours. Like, literally never. Not even if she had her own rehearsals to attend. Have you ever attended any of hers, by the way?”

Karina grits her teeth. She knows Giselle means well: she’s friends with you, and is simply curious. Knowing that doesn’t keep the girl from wanting to punch the Uchinaga for annoying her, though. With the engines running inside her head, Karina tries her best to focus on exhausting her body, in hopes of having the burning sensation ease her troubled mind. Still, she couldn’t help but constantly wonder what was going on in with you. Why were you suddenly so distant?

The questions clouded her head, making it difficult to focus on the choreography they were learning. It seems like she wasn’t making up stuff, after all: Giselle’s questions made it clear you were different, weirdly so.

Nodding, Karina added, “Yeah. It’s not like herself at all.”

Giselle meant to continue the conversation, but the dark look Karina shoots her is enough to get the Uchinaga to gulp, focusing back on her movements, along with the melody of their upcoming song. It was none of her business, anyway.

Once the girls make their way back to the dorms, Karina decides she’s had enough of whatever you were intending to do. She’d stop by and confront you, finally. It frustrated her, having to guess your feelings, specially since you’ve been dating for quite a while — now. But she’d do it, if you were so willing to be petty. She’d be the one to reach out first.

“Thank you, girls. I’ll see you in a bit. I won’t be late, promise.” Karina’s words reverberate through the car, as she waves goodbye to her friends.

Her three bandmates were, as always, more than quick to encourage her to reach out to you, after the distance between you lingered for weeks. Even though it would cost her hours she should be spending in the recording room, they’ve immediately told Karina to talk to you, urging to have both of you in good terms once again.

Ever since you’ve become a shell of the caring, sweet girlfriend you once were, Karina’s been jittery; she was easily irritated and often picked arguments over the simplest things. It was clear the situation was taking a toll on her, in ways she’d never admit. Karina would die before confessing how much she missed your voice, your care, your touches. She’d never admit it. After all, she did constantly complain about how clingy and annoying you were— it was only fair she lived up to her words.

With a sigh, the girl enters your Dance Studio, tugging at the tiny Christmas decorations that hang through the reception area, the doors, and the walls. She realizes she’s never actually been inside the massive building for more than three, maybe four times. Usually, Karina would just wait for you by the car, never bothering to get to know the place you spent the majority of your time, whenever you weren’t attending your classes. Karina mutters a curse under her breath, silently punishing herself for not paying enough attention to you, as she smiles at the receptionist and asks about your location.

“Second four, third door on the left. She’s booked up a private room for a few hours, but they should be near the end, now.” The woman told her, as Karina bowed her in recognition, making her way towards the elevator.

Once she’s walking through the hallways, a big, colored paper with numerous names catches her eyes, standing out in the sea of decorations and adornments. It’s a casting list, and Karina’s chest fills with pride as she reads your name: first in line, cast as the lead dancer. She vaguely remembers of one of your rambles months prior, the low tone of your voice exposing how ashamed you were to confess about your nervousness to audition. At that time, Karina had been so focused on her own stuff she barely gave your topics any attention at all, dismissing them with a few hums until you focused on her rants again.

Now, Karina desperately wished she had paid you more attention. She urged to be active in your life: to know what was happening in your routine, your troubles and whatever was making you happy at the moment. Filled with guilt, the dark-haired girl slides the door slowly, delighting herself in the sight of your perfectly arranged frame, stretching yourself by the bars.

“You haven’t told me you got cast as Clara.” She says, quietly, staring at how precise and eloquent your moves are, even though the music that comes from your phone is faint, nearly inaudible.

You take a look at your girlfriend through the mirrors, trying your best to look indifferent. In reality, the first thought you’ve had as soon as you got cast as the lead dancer for the company’s Winter play was to call her, screaming in excitement for accomplishing something you’ve wanted for so long. But her words were still livid on your mind—which is why you simply shrug, going on with your barre routine, back straightened and arms arched. Once again, it was difficult to act like her stare didn’t burn, consuming you completely, but you reverberated through it.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I only got it because Seowon unnie is injured, anyway. She didn’t even audition.”

“I see.” Karina says. Her eyes examine your body so intensely you gulp, reaching out for your water bottle. She follows your every move, like a fox out for a hunt. “Do you want to have lunch? We can finally have some time for us, then. You’ve been so busy.” Her tone is sarcastic, and you know she’s fully aware of the distance you’ve been putting on between them. Her message is clear: she’s done playing and waiting for you to gather your thoughts and come back to her on your own, as you’d usually do whenever you argued.

Only you weren’t backing up or apologizing, this time.

“I can’t put on weight. I have fittings in 3 days.” Karina frowns, approaching until you were unable to continue your moves.

She looks at your body, eyes searching for any flaws with such hunger, you instantly feel heat invading your cheeks.

“You’re good.” Leaving no space for denial, she turns around and holds the door open, motioning for you to go first. “Now, let’s have lunch.”

“Is it something with your family?” Karina is the first to break the awkward silence that lingers on the lunch table, in hopes to stir anything inside you to make you stop playing with your salad and look at her face. It works: you look up, genuinely confused.

“What? No, they’re good.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, clearly not enjoying the date. If anything, your moves are mechanic, hesitant.

If it were any other day, you’d be talking until you had to grasp for air, filling Karina in every detail of your life for the second or third time, probably. She thinks she’ll go insane at the sight of you, sitting idle on the desk, with big, sad eyes.

“Good. It’s good they’re all well and healthy.” She says, then adds, lifting her brows. Even though she tries not to express how irritated she is by the situation, Karina’s not good at hiding her expressions. “What is wrong? You’re clearly different, but keep acting petty and not telling me what it is.”

Your mouth opens in a perfect “O” as the words leave your girlfriend’s mouth. Does she think you’re that immature? She must simply not care about her own words, then. You’re sure of it. “I’m not fucking petty.”

Karina stares at your arms, tightly crossed against your chest, and at your pout. She almost laughs, thinking about how adorable the sight is, but the fire in your eyes reminds her of the current situation. She leans back on the chair, motioning for you to do something. Anything.

“Talk, then.”

She infuriates you. Just sitting in front of you, so sure she’s done nothing wrong, as if you’re the only one to blame.

“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” It takes some deep breaths to not point a finger at her, so you just let out a dry laugh. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

“What do you mean by that?” Once again, she looks genuinely confused. Before you get to answer, thought, Karina’s phone rings. She picks up immediately, not at all pleased with how you rolled your eyes at the interruption. It’s Aeri, calling to say Bada had already arrived, and she’s the only one missing for them to start cleaning the choreo.

You get up before she has the chance to say anything, with a fake smile as you wait for her to call the waiter and pay for your date.

“I have to go, too.” You say, walking up slightly faster than her. When it’s time for you to actually part ways, though, you stop, unsure of what to do. You would rather not touch her; it still hurts, and part of you was indeed petty enough to deprive her of your touch, after her complaints.

Karina beats you to it, however. Before you register, she seals your lips in a delicate kiss, one you can’t help but melt on.

“See you soon, Y/n. I love you.” She says, before entering her company’s car and being driven away. She doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge the situation, and you’re happy for that.

Huffing in frustration, you make your way back towards your studio, in hopes to keep your strained relationship out of your mind, even if just for a few hours.

As much as Karina thinks it through, she can’t fantom where she’s gone wrong. You’ve just distanced yourself so suddenly, and it has left a hole in her heart, along with a lingering itch on her skin that makes her want to scratch her arms until they’re red and sore. She’s busy, and she knows you’re busy, too, but she’s had enough of this. She misses you, and she hates herself for complaining about how you’ve always shown her nothing but love. She took it for granted before, but she won’t anymore.

Her palms are slippery as she knocks on the dressing room’s door, not waiting much until she’s given permission to enter. She’s not surprised to find you alone— your friends told her you were usually the last one to change into normal clothes, as crowded spaces made you breathless and anxious. She is, though, surprised to find you looking down at your hands, so small and filled with sorrow, despite having performed flawlessly not even an hour ago.

You’re surrounded by stuffed animals, letters, and gifts from your friends and family, yet it still seems so… empty. And you know what’s lacking.

The girl standing by the door knows it, too.

“You looked beautiful on the stage tonight.” Karina says, carefully placing the huge bouquet she bought you on the empty part of the table, the one your hands rest. “As always. My beauty.”

You nod, gripping your chair as you try to ground yourself. Even your body navigated towards her; it was hard not to run into her arms and forget how hurt you were.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You truly didn’t, even though you had sent invites to her and the girls, they were always so busy— they’ve never attended, before.

It’s Karina’s turn to be hesitant — now. Trapping her hands in her pockets, she adds. “I don’t want to be absent from your life anymore.” The statement, all you’ve wanted to hear for so, so long, makes your heart nearly joint. You try to speak, but she’s still immersed in her words. “I miss you. And I have no fucking clue of why you’ve been so distant lately, but I miss your laugh, your touches—fuck, I miss everything about you. I know I’ve been so fucking selfish, and I’ve never realized you were the only one making efforts for us for so long.” You’re still looking at her through the mirror when she places her head on your shoulders, hands playing with your leotard’s thin strap to have something to occupy herself with. “I’m sorry.”

You gulp, looking at the beautiful flowers she got you. Being without Karina had turned you into a mess, but you still feel just as uneasy in her presence. No matter how much you try, you can’t seem to forget her words. How irritated she sounded, at the time, as if you were such a bother.

Your girlfriend was still waiting for her answer, so you take some flowers into your hands, as you ask, hesitant. “Don’t I suffocate you? I’m too much, I guess.”

Karina shakes her head. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?” Her hands move to your waist, subtly, her light fingers barely noticeable as they brush your covered skin.

“You can stop lying, you know. Just tell me if you do.” Your voice cracks, and it’s enough for Karina to realize how hurt you truly were, by the affirmation.

It comes to her, then, that you weren’t being petty, all over the past weeks. You were just hurt, and needed some time. She feels guilty for being the reason for such feelings.

Hugging you with a strong grip, she decides to be honest. “There was a time… where I felt like it, for a bit. I was overworked, and annoyed at everything. But then you vanished, and… it felt like there was something missing, I guess.”

Her face is all red from the confession, making you smile. It’s a rare occurrence, for Karina to talk about her feelings, and even more for her to confess anything. It’s the real proof she missed you; the girl’s willingness to be vulnerable, even if for a small moment.

You missed her so, so much. As always you’re the first to give in, no longer fighting the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to distance yourself and leave Karina.

“Let’s go home, ‘Jiminie.” You murmur, humming as you feel her hands all over your body, groping and twisting your skin, touch starved for anything you could provide. You whine, looking at her through her lashes. In this love bubble, your drunken state is enough for Karina to kiss you, her sweet taste marked with hunger.

“I don’t want to wait, though. I’ve missed you for too long.” She looks at you dead serious, adding, “Far too long.”

You nod, a moan escaping your mouth when Karina pushes all the makeup and the gifts onto the ground, her lithe hands gripping your thighs and urging you up on the vanity with ease. Once again, her fingers try to get through your leotard, huffing when she’s met with tights instead of bare skin.

You grab her wrists, giggling at her urgent moves. “Don’t.” You warn, turning your head when Karina meets your lips for another breathless, hungry kiss. Her mouth meets the corner of yours, instead. You’d forgotten how much you loved to tease her. “I have to perform tomorrow, and for weeks after that. Don’t ruin them.”

She retreats completely, then. Stepping back, she places her hands up, following your demands. Her body language is relaxed, but her voice is strained, stating how she truly feels. “You better take them off — now. And give me a show.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of sweetness, but another sharp look from Karina and you’re quick to do as told. Her attention is solely on you, admiring your precise moves. You’re just as graceful and beautiful as when you went on stage, and Karina drinks on the vision.

Without rush, you unbutton your costume until it falls from your body, lifting yourself up to let the fabric dangle on the ground. Your body is exposed to your girlfriend’s touch. You’re drenched, desperate to have her after so long apart. You can feel the heat on your skin, as you reach out to have her close once again. It lingers, only deepening with the hungry, messy kiss you and Karina share. Her hands meet your neck, and you gasp the moment you feel her fingers blocking your airways. The dizziness, along with her wet mouth on your chin, then marking your neck as she has her share of you, just as starved. You’re too light-headed to complain about the bruises, being so quick to turn into a moaning, breathless mess.

“I missed you t-too much.” You murmur, drawing your head back as she licks her way down on your body. You watch, starstruck, as she falls down on her knees, hands spreading your thighs with ease.

You take a hold of her long, dark hair, but don’t motion to force your girlfriend’s face into your cunt— you know better than that. Instead, you wait, eagerly, as she parts your folds. Her other hand comes to collect your juices, proving on your sweetness.

“I’m obsessed with you.” She mutters, breath hot on your cunt. Her eyes meet yours, and she’s just as breathless. “Fucking obsessed. Do you understand? This is all mine.”

Without a warning, she licks a big stripe of your pussy, her nose bumping onto your clit without much pressure. The action, though not rough, is more than enough to have lewd, loud sounds come out of your mouth. The only thing on your mind is your girlfriend. Her touches and the pleasure she was always so eager to give you.

“I’ll worship you because you’re mine.”

Perhaps your relationship was built on empty promises. But as for the moment, the only thing that matters is Karina’s hot, warm breath on your skin, and how right it feels.

#sol writes #sol’s works #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina aespa smut #karina x reader #karina smut #karina aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x yn #aespa x you #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x reader

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terresdebrume · 3 months ago

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This is something I think about when I read posts like this one by @thediktatortot (which makes a true a very good point) because the need for younger fans to (re)learn how to be proactive in fandom participation is real and it's also true (imo) that new fandom, even if we all about-faced and started being active again without caring about making our fanworks as fast as possible, would still have trouble maintaining itself because of the way TV (in my experience a Huge source of fandoms) is being handled right now

I think I want to point at the elephant in the room today

The problem when we have the ever more frequent conversation of how to keep a fandom alive after the show it's based on stops airing is that we tend talk about it in a way that ignores the very real differences between the juggernauts of old fandoms like Star Trek and newer shows like Dead Boy Detectives, namely:

1. The difference in amount of material

2. The accessibility of said material

Part of the reason why Star Trek or The X-Files still have active fans so long after they aired is because those shows had multiple seasons with an average of 20 episodes each. For the X-Files' 11 seasons that's about 200 episodes each with their own storylines, themes, interesting ideas and frustrating mistakes right there to inspire Fanart, fic, meta, and any number of fanwork. I'm not even going to do the math on Star Trek: this show got about a bazillion shows

Dead Boy Detectives, and a lot of genre shows nowadays have like... Eight episodes. Ten, if we're lucky. Fandoms for procedurals or more broadly appealing shows fare better (Lone Star comes to mind, or sitcoms for example) because networks tend to keep them online longer, but genre series get ever shorter with ever fewer opportunities to really grow an audience... Think of all the shows that got popular on Tumblr in the past few years and tell me how many got a proper season? Shadow and Bones was cancelled. My Lady Jane: one season. Gentleman Jack, two (three?). Good Omens: maybe 3, depending on how the network handle the Gaiman situation. The Umbrella Academy got four seasons. Stranger Things, with 5 seasons and 42 episodes managed to equate roughly 2 seasons of the X-Files (probably not even that if you account for episode length). The Witcher currently has 3 seasons for 24 episodes.

Contrast this to shows like Dead Boy Detectives with, again, eight episodes. Maybe 16 if we get really lucky, but I'm not holding my breath. This is just materially WAY LESS soil for a fandom to grow in. It's not that people aren't motivated, it's that as much as you want to keep it going, there's only so much to say about 8 episodes! George Rexstrew, who plays one of the leads, even recently admitted that he's running out of things to say about his performance, and who can blame him? So after a while, you gotta turn to AU which by definition are always going to be potential hits and misses, since they diverge from what brought people to the show in the first place.

I know we're all real good at spinning yarn but sometimes it gets really hard not to run out of fiber.

As for accessibility: the Big Olds benefitted from two things. One, they were broadcast on much wider-reaching channels, if not from the start, then when they eventually made it on public networks. They had a regular play time, and you could stumble onto them by accident, this getting interested and picking it up. And two: the popular shows had a decent chance of getting tape or DVD sets, which made them easier to own and show to your friends so they could binge the story and join you in the fandom

By comparison, look at the barrier of access for Dead Boy Detectives:

Need to have a Netflix account

Need to see it somewhere in your recommendation (good luck if you come in more than a month after it released)

Need to see people talk about it as they binge (need to be in the right place at the right time)

Need to keep paying for a Netflix account if you wanna rewatch, or figure out how to do a piracy, which is getting more difficult and riskier every year

Need to be willing to get invested in a forever unfinished story

And when on top of that the writing in the first episode is, let's say it frankly, far from the best, that is a LOT of obstacle to overcome for a pretty small sandbox

So like, yeah, sure, we should be willing to keep making a fandom happen after a show ends, but at some point we can't ignore that the effort it takes to keep fandoms alive is getting way more intense than it used to be

#On Fandom #meta #my meta #I think also that on top of the capitalistic aspects of that change we discuss often (ie studios want an instant cash cow #and won't give a show time to find its audience bc it takes too long)#there's an element of studios don't care about indirect revenue unless they can be sure it'll be assive and easy to get #so the argument that seems reasonable to us ('get a niche but dedicated fandom and we'll buy your stuff forever')#sounds bad to them because they're just thinking about the initial cost of launching say #a funko figurine #and deciding that actually the potential sales for it won't yield enough profit for it to be worth it #sigh #anyway #It's weird to have gone from a big lurker to someone on the more active side of thongs #*things #twenty years ago I would not have gotten the amounts of followers I have now I think #I keep to myself too much and don't talk to people as much as I could #except what was a very small thing then is much more interactive now that the tiktok generation is coming on tumblr and only liking stuff #sometimes if the wond is good #(it's a weird situation tbh)

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fushiguruuzzzz · 1 month ago

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𑁤 Cherry Waves

Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Words — 2.3k

Cw — rockstar au, yes the title is a Deftones reference, mentions of alcohol (no use this time! Yay!), written in one sitting, not proofread, sort of situationship to lovers????? I’m not even entirely sure that’s a secret between them ig, chappel roan reference, lmk if there’s anything I missed !! All you long for is Megumi Fushiguro to love you when he’s sober. All he longs for is to have the courage to show you he does. These two dreams tend to clash when paired with insecurities and desperate secrecy, and the question is: will you be able to work it out?

a/n — this was fun to write tbh, I love rockstar Megumi baddddd and just wanted to get something out for him I fear. This won the poll so Gojo fic out some other time, in the meantime I’ll probably post Kilby girl prologue :3

Being famous had its perks, but with them came many downsides. One that you would consider the most pesky was the lack of privacy. Every secret you kept so precisely hidden was uncovered somehow, sometimes ones you weren’t even aware of yourself. Sometimes it was an old video of you found in the darkest depths of the internet, sometimes it was a song you hadn’t released yet. In your case, it was… whatever you had going on with your bandmate. Honestly you weren’t sure what exactly it was, neither was Megumi. But there was something, far too many glances that lasted just a beat too long, the graze of your fingers as you passed him his guitar that seemed to set you alight. The drunken kisses you’d share in the back of a crowded club that you were both eager to leave, the ones you wouldn’t talk about when the morning came. You’d share glances over the breakfast table that grew less awkward and more knowing as your rituals continued, the weeks going by and your dynamic never changing.

Sometimes months would go by without those moments of solidarity when your desperation bubbled over and came out in bursts. He never dared to voice it, but it killed Megumi. He loathed the way your touch would be all consuming, and then just a few hours later he’d been imprisoned by the lack of label between you, your distance heart wrenching. You were everything, and then nothing. You came in waves, not steady like the rise and set of the sun, but like the tide, unpredictable and heavy and undeniably passionate. You despised it equally as much, but you had the self control to contain it. Until you were on stage and consumed by nothing but the music, the songs you wrote about him, that is.

Your fingers were nimble and quick as they strummed the guitar, your lips ghosting over the rough wire of the microphone with every lyric. The rhythm reverberated through you, your heart beating in sync with the unsteady beat of the drums. This was it. This was life. Life was impending hearing loss and callouses on your fingers, it was red lights and the screaming of a crowd and the lingering knowledge that who might be the love (or loss) of your life is just a few pages behind you. The energy emitting from your body picked up his own every instance without fail, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as soon as he walked into the room. Paranoia? Maybe. Soul ties? Also maybe. That secret wasn’t yours to know, as it seemed.

Everything felt blurry, your consciousness only ever going up to half capacity on nights like this. You figured that if you were fully present, you couldn’t handle it all. It was a defence mechanism you’d made for yourself to handle the constant attention, the haunting awareness that you were being constantly perceived. Every shift of your eyes as they wandered to your black haired bass player was recorded, forever on the wide world of the internet. So you had to be careful, tread lightly at all times. They were everywhere, it seemed. You never really got used to it. This was your job, though, you signed up for this. You knew that, so you put up with it. You just wished you could love in peace.

You panted, chest heaving as you took in gasps of warm air. Not all that refreshing, but oxygen nonetheless. The last instrumentals of the final song faded out, the only noise being the dull chattering of the crowd. You felt their eyes on you, but one stuck out far more than any others. Him. His emerald eyes in the dim light were piercing, having such a deep effect over you even when they were out of sight. You were suddenly all too aware of the sweat sticking to your forehead, and the faint aftertaste of coffee on your tongue. You’d chugged three cups beforehand, figuring you’d need it to get through the night. Maybe it should’ve been four.

“Thank you so much for coming out, folks! That’s all for tonight!” you said, putting on an overly cheery tone that you were sure reeked of bullshit. With that the crowd began filtering out, the rows becoming gradually more empty with every passing minute. You, Megumi, and the others fell into the same old routine of packing up your instruments and getting ready to head out.

When the equipment was away and you were officially free to go for the night, Nobara spoke up. “Anyone in the mood to get drunk off of shitty overpriced vodka and hope we don’t get cancelled?”

As you walked to your respective vehicle, you couldn’t help but laugh. Your eyes flickered to Megumi for but a brief moment, but long enough for him to catch it. Something lied in the air between you then, the acceptance of what would happen the moment the alcohol took its toll and you were left alone. But as you met the sight of his raw eyes shining with what almost looked like expectation, something shifted. You didn’t want to be something that he only loved when he was drunk, you didn’t want to be the girl that was always just there when he needed you. The smile slowly faded from your face, being replaced by something softer; something more fake.

“I’m spent, I’m not gonna join tonight. Call me, yeah?” you asked, giving a small nod to the group as you lowered yourself into your drivers seat. Megumi’s eyes followed you inch by inch, taking in every subtle shift of your face, the soft crease between your brows as you put the keys into the ignition and made an eager escape. You were doing this on purpose, you were avoiding him. Why? Was he not enough, was he too much? Was this the end of whatever sick dance of passion and indifference that you were playing? But Megumi wasn’t stupid, in fact, he was an academically gifted boy. He knew that if he loved you when he was sober, you’d be willing to get drunk. It made something in his chest clench unfamiliarly, and he hated it. Hated the way you made him feel, hated the way he made you feel. He just… hated.

He hated the way the sound of your engine faded as you drive further and further from him, because it felt like you were leaving him in more ways than one.

Your fingers strummed impatiently against the steering wheel, though you weren’t sure what you were waiting for. You had nothing to wait for, no one. Maybe you were waiting for the moment your screen would light up with Megumi’s name, that he’d magically overcome whatever emotional blockage that was keeping him from you and learn to love you properly. You shook your head. Be realistic, now. It’s Megumi.

Pulling into the darkened parking lot of your apartment building felt like the nail in the coffin, the break in the inconsistent pattern you’d been following for so long. And as you stepped into your apartment, the falls felt oddly empty. It was missing something that had never been there in the first place, something that seemed to fit so perfectly, yet you didn’t. Maybe that was the case. Megumi fit into your life, he fit whatever love you held for him, but did you fit him? Maybe not.

You felt exhausted, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You tossed and turned uncomfortably in your sheets for what felt like hours before sighing in defeat and trotting out to your kitchen.

As you sat on your counter, tentatively sipping an icy cup of water, your mind wandered. You wondered what type of lover Megumi was. When the lights were soft, would his touch be, too? Would the scrambled urgency of his lips against yours turn into something calmer when he knew you had the time? His rough hands calloused by his passion, would they hold you as delicately as they cupped your face in his moments of weakness, as you escaped from the crushing reality of your status? Your heart ached at the realization that you didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to. Maybe someone else would, someone that fit.

A firm knock on your door pierced through the walls more than it should have. There was an empty sort of quiet that followed, as if the person waiting to enter didn’t have the courage to fill it. You slid from the cold marble, socked feet hitting the ground as you placed your glass next to you. There was barely the sound of shuffling as you padded to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole in your sleepy haze.

When you swung the door open, he looked nearly as shocked as you did. Of course Megumi had been the one to come here in the first place, but he half expected you to be asleep or just ignore him entirely.

“Megumi?”

He blinked at you for a moment, eyes unfocused. “…hey,” he said, voice hoarse as if he was the one who’d spent the night singing.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out?” you asked, standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

He paused. “You didn’t go.”

That statement meant a lot more than its words. You didn’t go, so he didn’t. He wanted to see you, to be with you.

“Can I come in?”

You looked between you, suddenly remembering that he was standing outside in the hallway whilst you were keeping him there. You shuffled to the side, motioning for him to enter. He did, no words shared in the silent moment. You fell into step, taking the few strides across the apartment and plopping down on the plush cushions of your couch.

You stared down at your fidgeting hands, debating whether you’d break the silence or not. He was the one who showed up here, so shouldn’t it have been him? But deep down you knew Megumi, he wasn’t one to speak unless spoken to. Not usually.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again, voice softer. He lifted his head, the black spikes of hair shifting with every movement. He looked particularly disheveled, like he’d spent his night tossing and turning as you had. “You and I both know why I’m here.”

With a soft exhale through your nose, you nodded. The thing was, you didn’t know the exact reason for his appearance. Was it to put an end to whatever you had, or the opposite? Because whether you liked it or not, it wasn’t casual. You didn’t know if they ever had been.

“What am I doing wrong?” you blurted. Your eyes widened, surprised by your own words. Damn your mouth and its tendency to act before your brain could, because it put you in situations like this.

His expression mirrored yours, confusion and something else, something more unrecognizable. “What?” he said, throat suddenly dry. “I never said you did anything wrong. You… you didn’t.”

That only puzzled you further. If you’d done nothing wrong, what was it that kept him from you? Perhaps your actions weren’t wrong, just you were. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, unable to find the correct words.

“Why would you think you’re doing something wrong?” he pushed.

“Because you don’t like me.”

A silence fell over you, and Megumi felt more flustered than he had in his life. “I’ve given you some pretty clear implications denying that,” he murmured.

“But you don’t like me when you’re sober, Megumi.”

A heavy silence fell over you, swirling with unspoken words and the quiet desperation for closure. You just needed him to confirm it, you couldn’t spend any longer clinging to the last bits of drunken hope residing in you.

“I’m sober now.”

“Yeah, well-“ you were about to shoot back, but then he was tilting your chin up and pressing his lips to yours. Your lips were captured in his as he inhaled every bit of you, the taste of your lips overtaking his senses. Cherry. He swallowed every claim and rebuttal rolling off of your tongue, rough hands cupping your face as he kissed you with a mission to prove himself. Megumi had never been one for words, opting to show his intentions through action. He sure got his point across.

He panted into your mouth, brow bone ghosting over yours as his eyes drank you in, deep and curious. Not an ounce of alcohol swirled in his bloodstream, but he felt completely drunk off of you. Maybe he couldn’t ever love you when he was sober, for your every breath intoxicated him, drew him in.

Your mind was spinning, wondering if you were in the midst of a fever dream. Megumi tasted of nothing but espresso and mint, no traces of vodka bleeding into your mouth as it interlocked his. He was completely present, and he was kissing you. He held you with a delicacy you weren’t aware he was capable of, hands that were once in tense fists now cradling you like fine china.

“Are you saying…” you breathed.

“Yeah. Now shut up, will you?”

You huffed, but it did little to hide the eagerness in your actions as you took him by the collar and pulled him in once again.

As you felt his lips on yours, you realized that they were perfect; like puzzle pieces reunited. The thing about puzzle pieces is that it was never one fitting in the other, it was that they fit together, reciprocated. They were two parts of a whole, equal, mutually connected. Megumi filled the empty walls of your home, and you filled his heart, and that felt pretty damn equal to you.

Tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniya @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @lizbix

#jjk #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smau #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #꩜ on replay :: mergurmur

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strwbabydoll · 11 days ago

Text

The Feeling Came Late (I’m Still Glad I Met You)

Chapter Four: To Kiss in Cars and Downtown Bars

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

chapter summary: No matter how frustrated she gets, she just can’t give up on the hope that she can change him, help him. Her best friend offers her a distraction to keep her mind fresh and off of the stress of tutoring him, the bar is just the perfect way to do that. After several shots, she falls into the arms of the one person she didn't want to see tonight, and just their luck he has to be the one to take care of her for the night. What better way to end the night than with a mistake that might just change everything as much as he hates it.

series summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 4/? (wc: 6.7k)

001 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

- - - - -

She knew logically there was no reason for her to be upset, especially not about something so small and more than likely had nothing to do with her. He was just being him, he was in a mood and just didn't want to be there. Deep down she wanted everything to go differently, she wanted to see if there was a chance he could maybe not like her a little less, he might crack a smile or at least talk!

The whole time he was silent aside from the hums and grunts he would answer with that she had a hard time deciphering. She had to fight back a smile every time they made eye contact but the small moment was ruined when he'd look away and huff.

The following days after their study session seemed to drag on for Y/N. The days' they go to school haven't changed, she tries to approach him to discuss when to meet next or to ask him if he has any questions, and he ignores her. He'll carry on with his conversation as if she's not standing right there and she's left to walk away with her head held down and a sad smile on her lips.

So she stopped trying, she stopped texting him about the worksheets he has, she stopped trying to talk to him in between classes, she hated the way he treated her and she's tired. She figures that he'll come to her whenever he's ready.

So she went on with her normal routine and didn't focus on him as much, and if he never comes back then it's not her fault. She continued with all her studies and preparing for her own exams, spending time with her friends and making short trips to her favorite meadow.

She's always found the breeze blowing against her skin, the silence of the field aside from the couple of birds chirping and the insects that have made the grass their home, comforting in a way. She loved being outside even as a young girl, it seemed to be the only place she could go to escape the chaos and loud feelings of her life. She never hesitated to step outside whenever her parents began to raise their voices, or after a long day filled with stress.

As she sits against the tall oak tree, the leaves shading her from the heat of the Florida sun, she can feel the stress of the past few days leave her body. She smiles happily as the grass tickles her skin, and at this moment she feels at home.

- - - -

The next couple of days, she still hasn't heard from Harry about their next session and midterms are coming soon and she'd hate to be the reason Harry fails. The only thing coming into mind is to make her way to the principal's office and demand that he comes to sessions but she knows that won't work. It'll just cause Harry to hate her even more if that's even remotely possible. She sighs as she walks out the school doors and down the steps, a slight pep in her step and a soft smile placed delicately on her lips.

She skips over happily to the bike rack and unties her own, slowly pulling it backwards until she's a good distance from the rack. She stops briefly as something catches her eye. With one hand shielding her eyes from the harsh sun as she scans the crowd, she smiles brightly as she lands on a familiar figure, the loose curls gathered in a pony tail and the leather jacket are all too familiar to her, so without thinking she begins to move towards him. Her legs carry her through the crowd of students until she's standing directly behind him. Her hand comes up to tap gently on his shoulder, stepping backwards so he can turn around.

He turns around, scowl already forming on his lips as his eyes meet hers. His fists clench at his side and he shakes his head. He quickly turns back around and opens his car, not caring about the conversation he was in the middle of. She frowns slightly before walking behind him as he aggressively opens the door and gets in, making sure to glare at her when her hand reaches out to rest on his door.

"What the fuck could y’possibly want?" He asks and she frowns slightly.

"You've been ignoring me." He scoffs lightly at her response as he sticks his keys in and starts the car.

"Get the hint then, lala." He gently begins to tug on the door, just because he's an asshole doesn't mean he's just gonna let her get hurt physically.

She frowns as she keeps her hand on the door.

"Just because it was one bad study session - keep in mind it was only bad because of you - doesn't mean you can be even more of an asshole to me. I know you don't wanna fail, you wanna get the hell out of here as fast as possible." He stares at her blankly as she speaks.

"I don't care if you like me or not because frankly I don't like you right now. I've tried to schedule sessions and all I get is radio silence. If you want this to be over as soon as possible, then you need to try. You need to work with me, not against me. If you wanna pass, I'll be at the library in the same spot all week. If you don't, then you better tell the principal you canceled our study session and whatever bullshit you need to say. I want you to know that if you fail, you can not blame me because you did this yourself." She says as her grip on the door loosens. He furrows his eyebrows as he stares at her intensely, his frown prominent as his eyes size her up.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he shuts his eyes and turns his head slightly, his curls tickling his neck as they slide over it.

"Fucking fine, two days from now I guess we can meet up and study some more. Is that all?" His voice lacks any eagerness but that doesn't deter her from cracking a big smile at him before she skips off towards the bike rack. His eyes never leave her retreating figure even after she pedals out of the parking lot and down the street.

He's so stuck in his brain that he doesn't hear his friend Alex walk up beside him, the feeling of a hand slapping him on the shoulder startles him from the trance he was in. He snaps his head around and nods his head once in acknowledgement, Alex smiles at him briefly.

"Wassup man, why're you being weird?" Harry shakes his head as a frown quickly begins to form on his face.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Harry asks and Alex chuckles, a hand flying out to grasp Harry's shoulder in response.

"You've been staring into space since what's her face left." Harry shakes his head in response as he chuckles.

"Nothin' like that. S'all taken care of." Alex nods once before releasing his hold on Harry's leather clad shoulder.

"Me and a couple of buds are going to the bar tonight, you wanna come?" Harry nods once in agreement before they say their goodbyes.

- - - -

Y/N sits on the couch beside her closest friend, Leya, aimlessly scrolling through the channels on the television. Their phones are discarded on the coffee table in front of them as they make small talk as they search for something to watch. The day's been boring for both of them, Y/N went to school and then headed over to Leya's house where her friend's been cooped up all day.

"We should go out tonight." Leya says after settling on some cooking show.

She sets the remote on the table before turning to face Y/N beside her, her eyes meeting confused ones.

"It's a school night... Why on earth would we go out?" She asks and Leya chuckles.

"We won't be out late, promise. Just tired of being cooped up inside and we haven't hung out outside of these four walls in forever it seems. You've been busy." Y/N smiles softly as she tucks one leg underneath her as she bites her bottom lip.

She knows her best friend's idea of “not late” is much different than hers, they're more than likely going to be heading back to their places around one in the morning, meanwhile Y/N usually only stays out until eleven p.m. since she has early morning classes. She sighs before turning her gaze to her best friend, eagerness and excitement is written all over her face and she can't help but to return the excitement. A bright smile forms on her lips before she nods her head.

"Where did you want to go and we're only staying out until midnight at the latest, I have to get up early." She can't help but smile at her friend's excitement.

They both turn their gaze to the television, smiles etched on their faces as they focus on whatever the man on the screen is cooking. She knows this isn't a good idea because she knows they'll be out much later than intended simply because time won't matter once they're having fun. No one will be checking their phones and she doesn't even know where they're going!

She knows she hasn't had much time to properly hang out with her best friend because she's been doing a lot more. She's been juggling school with tutoring two different students and trying to snag some hours in at the local library for a little side cash. She can't help but to feel bad, but there's nothing she can do about it now and she's sure her friend understands why.

Leya goes on and on about a bar nearby that's under new management and is supposed to be so much better and how she wants to try it.

"They have a better selection of drinks, live music! This sounds like so much fun I promise you won't regret it. Please say you'll go, you have to! I'm afraid I'll die if you say no." Leya says, placing a hand on her forehead to feed into the dramatics as she rests her upper half over the couch armrest.

Y/N can't help but to laugh at her friend as she rolls her eyes playfully.

"You're silly. You know I was gonna say yes regardless, you deserve a proper fun night out." Leya's face might be broken with how hard she's smiling, white teeth showcased fully and her eyes barely showing as she quickly shortens the small distance between to embrace her best friend into a tight hug.

"I could quite literally kiss you right now, you're the best friend ever! I'm so excited, thank you thank you!" She squeals before pulling away to plant a sloppy kiss on Y/N's cheek causing the girl to laugh as she wipes it away with the back of her hand.

A comfortable silence falls over them as they turn their attention back to the television, the man's voice playing in the background as he talks about whatever dish he's making for the day. Her head lays on Leya's shoulder as they continue to watch tv, a happy smile on her face as she enjoys the company and peaceful bliss.

- - - -

Several hours later, Y/N finds herself standing in front of the standing floor mirror holding two different dresses. She takes turns in holding the dresses up to her body as she tries to decide which one she wants to wear. She doesn't wanna put too much effort in her appearance since she knows it'll all be sweated off by the end of the night.

She ends up choosing a simple black dress, one that hugs her curves nicely with lace detailing around the edges and stops mid thigh. It's plain enough so she won't stand out too much, but dressy enough to show she actually put some effort into her appearance. After she slips it on, she applies some light makeup and styles her hair and decides to leave her curls to flow down her back.

She walks out of Leya's room and into the living room where she's met with her best friends' figure leaning over the kitchen island as she applies a pink tinted lipstick over her lips, the burgundy dress compliments her caramel skin, hugging her curves but flaring out towards the bottom with an open back and stops mid thigh. Her hair has been pinned back as it rests in the matching burgundy hair clip. She can't help but to smile as she watches her friend add the finishing touches to her makeup before choosing to speak up.

"You look super pretty, Leya. Is that dress new?" Leya turns around and smiles just as big as she nods.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, you look to die for! Spin for me baby!" Leya exclaims and Y/N can't help but to giggle as she does a spin, her white heels clicking against the tile floor with every step.

They both laugh as they embrace each other in a tight hug before walking out the door and towards Leya's car. The soft breeze blowing against her skin and she smiles as she steps inside the car. Leya hops into the driver seat and starts the car making sure to roll Y/N's window down as she drives down the street. The trees and houses turn into a blur, the breeze fanning her face as she lays her head on the open space on the car door.

- - - -

The smell of weed quickly fills Y/N's nose as she steps out of the car and lets her eyes sweep over the building. There's a couple of guys huddled in the far side of the building, she can only assume they're smoking the weed by how clouds of smoke keep blowing in the air every couple of seconds. She can see the side profile of one of the guys and she can't help the small gasp that escapes her lips when she realizes that one of the guys is Harry.

He's dressed like normal, a white dress shirt halfway unbuttoned to show off his swallows tattoos and his toned chest, a pair of black skinny jeans and his signature brown Chelsea boots, his hair resting right at his shoulders instead of his usual bun. She can hear Leya clear her throat from behind her and she turns around to meet her gaze with a sly smile.

They don't say anything to each other before Leya's grabbing her hand and heading towards the entrance and she laughs as Leya yells.

"Party time baby!" The sound of her friend's voice causes Harry and his friends to look over and she catches a glimpse of his signature frown beginning to form.

She refuses to let him ruin a perfectly good night so she sends him a sarcastic smile before she's dragged through the door and directly to the bar, she staggers behind her friend as her heels clack against the wooden floor. She quickly apologizes to everyone she bumps into as she tries to make herself as small as possible, earning a few nasty glares in the process. It doesn't take long for the two girls to reach the bar and they quickly hop onto the bar stools, the leather squeaks underneath with every move.

The music is loud and Y/N can feel the vibrations through the stool, even though she just walked in the heat from all the dancing bodies enveloping her, wrapping her in a warm hug. The bartender comes over and sends both of them a flirty smile as he leans on the counter top.

"And what can I get for you lovely ladies?" He asks and they both let out a giggle. Leya's the first to answer as she smiles back.

"I'd like a sex on the beach please!" The waiter nods in response as he gathers everything he needs and begins to make her drink.

Y/N doesn't know what she wants to drink, she's never been a heavy drinker, she doesn't like the bitterness of beer or the burn of tequila as it flows down her throat. She usually sticks with water or tea, something non-alcoholic or something sweet when she's out so she turns her head and pleads with Leya. Wide eyes begging for help to make herself feel better about her decision which causes her friend to laugh softly before nodding her head.

The waiter comes back with a smile as he hands Leya's drink to her and turns to Y/N, flashing her a flirty smile as well.

"And what can I get started for you, pretty?" Y/N smiles politely back at him before Leya interrupts them.

"Do you by any chance have anything fruity?" The bartender nods and quickly mixes her drink and hands it to her, it's orange and looks just like orange juice and she can make out a few ice cubes floating around.

She hesitantly brings the cup to her lips and takes a small sip, expecting to feel the burn in her throat or taste the bitter aftertaste that'll linger on her taste buds. Surprisingly she doesn't taste any of it, it's sweet and tastes just like orange juice. She licks her lips before taking a longer sip and nods.

"I like this! What's it called?" She asks and the bartender chuckles softly before he replies.

"It's called a screwdriver. It's orange juice and vodka. I'd be careful with that, because it's so easy to drink it'll get you pretty tipsy fast. Don't just drown it, small sips." She nods gingerly as she turns to Leya.

"Want some?" Leya shakes her head softly as she sends a smile to Y/N, one full of love and happiness she can't help but to send a reciprocated smile back.

The bartender leaves them to chat idly as the music plays, loud enough to cause them to lean into each other to make sure they're heard correctly. Leya talks about how she can't believe that Y/N is out and drinking, making jokes about where has her friend gone because the girl she knows wouldn't be caught dead in a bar, let alone outside her apartment at this time. Y/N chuckles before playfully pushing her friend's shoulder and taking another sip of her drink.

As their eyes glaze over the crowd full of dancing people, Leya nudges her softly causing her to turn her head briefly where she's met with a smirk.

"You know Harry's here?" Y/N chuckles before nodding.

"Saw him outside before we came in. Didn't look too happy to see me." She shrugs before taking another sip of her drink. She watches as her friend shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Still nothing huh? I don't even understand why he dislikes you so strongly. You said you confronted him in the parking lot? Did nothing happen?" Y/N can feel her frown beginning to form at the thought of her outburst at him.

"No, he just stared like a statue the whole time before he very reluctantly agreed to another study session. I hate to feel like I'm forcing him but I refuse to let him fail under my watch you know? I know he can do better." Y/N takes another sip of her drink as she begins to drum her fingers on her thigh to the rhythm of the song playing.

Leya smiles as she sips her own, she loves that most about her best friend. The fact that no matter what she's always seen the best in people and never treated them the way they treat her.

"Let's play a game." The smirk is back on her lips as she sets her drink on the counter behind her.

"What could we possibly play at the bar Leya?" Her curiosity is getting the best of her, she always had fun with her and this wouldn't be any different.

"Let's see how many people end up fucking tonight. You take a sip if you end up losing your guess, and the other person takes a sip if you guess correctly." Y/N can't help the shiver of excitement that runs through her body at the game description and so she nods her head excitedly as both eyes trail over the crowd.

- - - -

Several wrong guesses and a couple correct ones, Y/N can feel the warmth of her cheeks and she's a giggling mess. She's never felt more at peace as she leans her head on her friend's shoulder. They've left their multiple glasses behind as they sway lightly and slowly to the very upbeat song, not caring about the nasty glares they're receiving or the way the bass of the song vibrates in her chest. They've forgotten the game a while ago, after Leya's guesses got more incorrect and Y/N's guesses became slurred words and giggles.

She's never been a heavy drinker so she considers herself a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and at this moment it shows. Y/N's more gone than Leya is - she's borderline tipsy, still able to form sentences and can kinda walk in a straight enough line if she concentrates hard enough. So Y/N leans her weight on her friend as she wraps her arms around her waist and snuggles her face into her neck, neither girl caring about her makeup that will definitely leave a stain as they sway.

"Leys.." a giggle escapes her lips at the new nickname coming from her before she turns her head upwards to gaze at her best friend.

"Yes, honey bunny?" Leya brings one hand up to her head and softly runs her hand through Y/N's curls as she laughs softly, she can feel Y/N begin to relax in her hold and she chuckles softly.

"Love you." She mumbles and she can feel a soft kiss on the top of her hair and the tightening of Leya's arms around her shoulders.

"Love you too sweets. Are you feeling okay?" Y/N softly nods her head against Leya's chest.

A couple seconds past, a comfortable silence looming over them before Y/N gasps and pulls away.

"What? What's wrong?" Leya's face is laced with concern, eyebrows raised and eyes wide as she stares at the drunk girl.

"You're my best friend!" She exclaims and lets out a small giggle. Relief floods over Leya's face and turns into a loving smile.

"And you're mine, forever and always." She breaks into a big smile, one that makes her cheeks hurt and shows off all of her teeth, one that seems to brighten up the decently lit building.

The music has seemed to fade away into the background, it doesn't seem as loud anymore but she can still feel the bass vibrating through her body as she very clumsily dances alongside her best friend. Hands, arms, and sides bump into one another throughout her time shared on the dance floor, she can't bring herself to care about any of that. The only thing that matters at the moment is that she'll be happy and she's having fun, she can't remember a time she's felt so loose.

She stops her dancing around to stumble over to the bar once more, their glasses cleaned off and the bartender already ready with a medium sized glass cup.

"Are you thirsty?" He says as he pushes the cup towards her, the condensation leaves a wet trail against the wooden countertop and she shakes her head.

"New cup please, no drugs." She giggles slightly at herself and sets her hand on the table. She focuses her attention on the bartender as he pours out the water and rinses the cup. He quickly pours her some fresh water and she giggles as she thanks him, their fingers brushing over another as she grabs her cup from him and takse a sip.

She's managed to lose Leya in such a short time, her eyes flitting over the crowd but she can't seem to focus on finding her friend when her eyes land on Harry's signature curls and leather jacket. She giggles before taking a big sip of the water and sets her cups on the counter as she hops down from the stool and begins to clumsily make her way over to Harry. She bumps into a couple people on the way over, saying excuse me before she bursts into small fits of giggle with every bump.

She almost trips over someone sitting near Harry, her hand coming out to grab onto the closest thing to her and she quickly grabs onto someone's chair.

"Watch it!" The guy yells at her and she quickly pushes herself up and apologizes, a soft laugh coming out from her lips as her eyes lock onto Harry's. His face is bare, no frown placed on it but his hazy eyes show just the hint of annoyance. His eyes wander over her body as she just stands there before he leans forward and his eyes flick up to hers as his hands slowly come up to her frame. He ever so gently and very carefully takes the end of her dress and tugs it down from its resting position from at the top of her thighs to the middle of her thigh.

After he's satisfied he quickly pulls back and grabs the joint from Alex's hand and takes a hit, he enjoys the burn in his throat as he inhales and watches the smoke as he exhales. He finds that her presence isn't as infuriating like this, his eyes travel down her frame - taking in the way her hair flows, and the dress and just how well it compliments her curves, the way she plays with her fingers and the slight sway she has as she stands in place.

She then quickly breaks out into a big smile and stumbles closer to Harry.

"Hi!" He frowns slightly before nodding to her in acknowledgment.

"Have you seen Leya?" She hiccups softly before letting out a small laugh. He shakes his head before turning to his friend.

"Seen her friend?" His friend shakes his head as well and he turns his gaze back to her.

"Go look around. Couldn't have gone too far. She shouldn't have left you like this anyways." She frowns at that before shaking her head.

"I left her, got thirsty. The nice bartender gave me water with no drugs." She giggles before turning around and pointing to the man standing behind the counter, his eyes already fixed on her.

Harry leans slightly to stare at the man before looking back to her and sighing in annoyance as he stands up. He tells his friends he'll be right back as he walks the couple steps to stand in front of the intoxicated girl.

"C'mon then, let's see if we can find her." His voice gruff as she turns around and begins to stumble her way through the crowd, bumping into a guy and causing him to spill his drink.

"Fucking bitch. You owe me a drink!" He watches as she flinches slightly at the already drunk man's tone.

Harry can't help but to frown as he steps forward and stares at the man with anger clouding his eyes.

"Talk to her with fucking respect, douchebag." He says as he steps back and reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet, opening it up and grabs a couple dollars and roughly hands it to him.

"Now shut the fuck up and get your drink." He says and walks over to Y/N and lays his hand on her shoulder as he pushes her to the bar gently. The girl giggles and thanks Harry for saving her from the 'scary man' as they make it to the counter.

"Are you ready for another one, pretty girl?" The waiter asks and she shakes her head softly. Harry can't help but to clear his throat in an attempt to get the attention off of the girl beside him.

"We're actually looking for her friend, have you seen her?" The bartender's eyes flick back and forth between Y/N and Harry before nodding his head.

"Yeah, she went into the bathroom with some guy a little bit ago." Harry scoffs as he grabs Y/N's hand and leads her to the door.

She squeals before she smacks Harry's hand.

"Hey! Harry! Slow down! Wait! She's in there!! Can't leave her!" She yells, but Harry shows no sign of stopping. His hair flows in the air behind him as he drags her to the door, the sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor just barely audible over to the sound of the drums on the stage. He doesn't stop until they've made it outside the door and he stops abruptly and runs his hand through his hair.

"Can't leave Leys, Harry. Love her. She's my best friend! We gotta go back!" She huffs and he shakes his head.

"No can do, lala. Your best friend is hooking up with some random fucking guy instead of making sure you're okay. M'taking you home. What's your address?" He takes out his phone and opens the *Maps* app, she does nothing but glare at him.

"Don't want you, want Leya." She says as she turns around and heads to the door.

He rolls his eyes as he moves to stand in front of her and softly places his hands on her shoulders.

"C'mon Y/N. M'not gonna hurt you. Just let me take you home." He says, his voice surprisingly soft and she shakes her head and crosses her arms.

"You're not Leya." He rolls his eyes at this.

"M'doing both of us a favor by continuing these sessions, it's the least you can do. You're drunk off your fucking ass and your best friend doesn’t seem too worried about you. C'mon and let me take you home. Can you not be so stubborn for once, you're in no condition to be anywhere but in your own bed." Her bottom lip juts out and begins to wobble and he sighs.

"Leya cares 'bout me, she's worried right now. Let me inside, you don't care. Just gonna hold this over my head tomorrow." She says as she reaches into her purse for her phone.

She quickly grabs it and unlocks it, her finger clicking on the phone icon and clicking on Leya's name and clicking the speaker icon. The phone rings several times and Y/N bites her bottom lip nervously, the time taking forever with each second that the phone doesn't click and her friend's voice comes through. After a while the phone goes to voicemail and she can't help the few tears that fall from her eyes and onto her cheeks. She dejectedly nods her head and follows Harry to his and she only manages to bump into a few cars along the way.

Harry sighs before coming next to her and ever so gently wraps his arm around her waist, not touching her but enough to keep her from stumbling too much and setting off someone's car. It's almost too easy for her to melt into his hold as her head comes to rest on his shoulder and wraps her own arm around him, she's too far gone to take note of the way his body tenses up underneath her touch. It takes the both of them longer to get to his car than it would if it was just him because of the way she keeps stumbling over cracks in the road or just her own two feet. He opens the door for her and allows her to get in and sets his jacket on her lap just in case, he's careful when strapping her in - trying his best not to touch her too much and announcing his every move for her to nod and giggle.

- - - -

After a couple wrong directions from Y/N talking over the voice coming from the speaker, Harry manages to pull into her driveway and parks the car. He gets out after telling her to stay put, walking around the car to her side, opening the door and unbuckling her, being gentle with her as he helps her out of the car and towards her house. When they reach the front door, he taps her on the shoulder and nods to the door.

"You got your keys?" His voice comes out softer than usual, taking on a more gentle tone with the girl and it only confuses him more. He hates that he’s trying to be gentle with her, how he can see that she’s more vulnerable now and doesn’t want to upset her. Y/N nods before reaching into her purse and surprisingly fast she pulls out her keychain, the various keys jingling against each other as she uses the other hand to pick at each key.

Right when her fingers begin to wrap around her house key, they slip through her grasp and make a loud jingle as they hit the floor.

"Whoopsie." She giggles as she bends down, Harry follows suit as his own hand reaches out to grab it and he manages to beat her to it as his right hand wraps around the keychain. They both stand up at the same time causing them both to hit their head against the other, she frowns as one hand comes up to rub her head. Harry can't help but to crack a smile at the sight before he shakes his head and unlocks her door, opening it fully as his arm wraps around her waist.

His fingers are just barely touching her dress as he guides her in the house, quietly shutting the door before asking him to lead her into her own room. She giggles softly as she nods, her own hand coming to rest on top of his as they walk into her room. Harry's not disgusted by her room, in fact it reminds him of earlier years, the various posters of plants and paintings, post it notes with words of encouragement and a decent sized calendar line the plain white walls, her beige comforter set contrasts the soft pink carpet that rests underneath her bed and he can spot a flower vase full of various flowers sitting on top of her dresser accompanied by other small decorations.

Her room just screams… her, it's something that you'd expect to see from her and he can't complain. For as long as he can remember she's always been so predictable when it comes to anything really, and so as he leads her to the bed her door catches on the leg of her dresser causing her to begin to fall forward. She squeals as she prepares for the hard impact against the floor but it never comes, Harry's arms are wrapped around her securely, his fingers digging into her waist as he pulls her up.

"For fucks sake, slow down will you. I need you alive so I can pass this stupid test. Don't want you to damage that useful brain of yours huh?" He can't help to add a teasing tone to his voice and she shakes her head.

"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks and she shakes her head.

He quickly heads to her dresser and waits for instructions that never seem to come, so slowly he opens one of her drawers - wary not to open one he definitely does not want to open, and he's met with a collection of hoodies and large shirts. So he quickly grabs one and tosses it to her, not bothering to look back as he speaks.

"D'ya need shorts or anything?" He's met with silence and he turns around to see her gaze on him, her features soft and a hint of smile plays at her lips.

"Y/N. Did ya hear me?" He says and still no response, so he steps closer and bends down so they're eye level causing her to break from her trance.

"Huh, what?" She slurs as she blinks fast, her breath fanning over his face so he quickly leans back.

"D'ya need shorts to sleep in?" She shakes her head as her cheeks fills with heat.

"What were you staring at?" He knows he doesn't care but his curiosity gets the best of him.

"You're jus' really pretty, s'all." She replies, her mouth moves before he brain can process what she’s saying.

He shakes his head at her before heading to her door.

"M'pretty now? Be careful Y/N or someone might think y'like me. But thank you, I guess one might say you looked pretty tonight as well, not me though." He says as he walks out the door and closes it behind it. Her head is swimming as she stands up and begins to tug her dress off her body. It takes her a couple of attempts but she finally manages to drag the garment off her frame and she tosses it onto the edge of her bed before slipping on the shirt Harry tossed at her.

She quickly sits on her bed and grabs the closest thing to her to help cover her bare legs, resulting in his jacket covering the upper half as she tells him to come in. The door squeaks as it opens and he sticks his head in before walking inside. His eyes flick to his jacket covering her bare thighs and one hand clenches into a fist.

"Harry?" His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of her voice and he opens his eyes to stare at her.

"Why don't you like me?" She tilts her head forward as she gathers her hair into a bun.

"Never said I didn't lala, don't go into that big head of yours." He leans backwards against her door frame and watches as she takes a big breath.

"You always get irritated in my presence and you're more mean to me than anyone else." She begins to fiddle with her fingers as she ducks her head down.

Harry sighs before coming to sit next to her on the bed, choosing to sit on the farthest side to protect anything from happening.

"All I'm gonna say is I don't not like you. Now come lay down so I can leave." He says and stands up, pulling her blankets down and helps her get into bed, making sure she's covered fully. His head is tilted down as he finishes the last touches and she turns her head to the side to tell him thank you and apologize but she's met with the softness of his lips. It's quick and most definitely was an accident by the way he jerks back as if he got burned.

Y/N lets out a nervous giggle before she sits up, her shirt beginning to slip down her shoulder and Harry frowns.

"I'm sorry, so sorry! I actually wanted to apologize when I turned. So uh sorry about everything, fuck I'm sorry." Her mouth is moving a mile a minute, the words slurring together as they spill from her lips.

Harry shakes his head as he exhales a shaky breath, he quickly walks out the room and attempts to make his way into her bathroom, opening up one cabinet to grab the small bottle of pain pills and walks into her kitchen. He opens all the cabinets and searches for a spare cup, quickly spotting it as he fills it halfway and heads back into her room, quietly setting both items down on the wooden bedside table and makes his way out the door and into his car.

His mind is racing the whole drive there and the only that he can think of is how pretty she looked and the way her lips felt against his, he knows he's fucked up by choosing to help her and now look what happened. As his foot presses down onto the gas pedal and the car begins to drive faster, cursing himself the whole ride there and he hopes she won't remember any of this in the morning.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #— 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

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